#something about sun I swear it's so hard to think of poses

[crow-with-a-pencil]

Sunnyyyyyy

[boobearymuch]

His Ghost on Film

Summary: Leon never talked much about his past, so it felt odd to see remnants of his life before you knew him as one of the government’s top agents. Before he ever faced off, again and again, with the world’s most dangerous minds and their monsters. You’re in awe of the younger Leon in your hands, and you quickly pick up another photo in hopes of seeing more. Tags: Leon S. Kennedy/gn!reader, older!leon kennedy, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcoholism Word Count: 1.5k Read on AO3

Notes: finally writing bc I'm sick and sniffly and gross !!1 hoping to get more writing out soon, I have so many ideas sitting in my docs 😭

The photos spilled out on their own, you swear. It’s not like you made it a habit of sifting through Leon’s personal belongings anyway – you respected him too much for that – so this small transgression would surely be forgiven. However, nagging curiosity kept you from returning them right away. Tucked away in the back of a sock drawer, the photos came tumbling out when you put laundry away and fell to the floor in a scattered flurry. You quickly lowered yourself to scoop up the unruly pictures, but a dazzling smile stopped you in your tracks. It was Leon’s smile. 

He posed alone, raising a hand to salute cheerfully at the camera while the other rested on his hip. The uniform he donned suggested the photo took place back when he trained as a police recruit, not for the DSO. Leon never talked much about his past, so it felt odd to see remnants of his life before you knew him as one of the government’s top agents. Before he ever faced off, again and again, with the world’s most dangerous minds and their monsters. You’re in awe of the younger Leon in your hands, and you quickly pick up another photo in hopes of seeing more. 

There are other recruits in this photo, each of them laughing and smiling like they were sharing a drink at a bar and not caked in sweat and dirt. Leon is laughing just as hard, clutching his stomach with a muddy hand. You can’t believe how young and carefree he used to look; the agent’s demeanor is a lot more serious now, hardened from years in the field. It’s difficult to imagine this version of Leon angry or upset, or a scowl ever gracing those pink lips. As you thumbed the photo, you admired the fullness of his cheeks, the haunted look in his eyes missing. In fact, they even seemed to sparkle.

“Having fun?” Leon’s rough voice is a murmur over your shoulder, and you start at the sound. The baritone in his words is rough with sleep from his nap, something you banked on lasting at least another hour or so. Leon’s hands settle over your shoulders, rubbing down your arms as he too kneels to the floor to peer at your hands. Heat rushes to your face instantly. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop.” Your tone is truly apologetic, but Leon doesn’t say a word as he reaches forward to thumb the film of him smiling in your hands. His lips are stretched impossibly wide, teeth visible, and eyes squinted in what appears to be a moment of pure joy. You can’t remember a time he smiled that big. He analyzes it quietly, perhaps remembering something. “When was this taken?” You ask softly.

“1998.” He replies, and suddenly regret consumes you. Perhaps he felt you tense up because his hand promptly smoothes over the curve of your back. “This was early spring, I think. Can’t remember what was so funny.”

“You’re adorable.” You can’t help but say. You could practically feel Leon roll his eyes. 

“I suppose it’s better than the alternative.” He mumbles.

Feeling slightly better about getting caught, you pick up another photo. This one is of him squinting in the sun, t-shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal pale shoulders. “Your farmer’s tan…!” You say it with the utmost adoration for the discovery, but Leon only groans.

“Hmph.” Leon’s snort of disapproval only eggs you on.

“Was this the same year?”

“No,” He responds, “That was 2002.” There’s a beat before he hesitantly adds, “This was South America.” The apprehension he says it with tells you everything you need to know about the photo. It’s not a good memory either. You hum in acknowledgment and gently pick up another picture. 

“Oh my god? Is that the president?”

“And his daughter Ashley.” Leon adds casually, as if he hasn’t been keeping the most insane piece of information about himself from you. 

“How…How do you know the president and his daughter?” You’re ogling at the photo, but once you’re over the shock, you can’t help but appreciate how sharp Leon is dressed for this picture. Hell, his hair is even gelled back. You’ve never seen him do that to his hair for anything, not even the fancy banquets the DSO makes him attend. You whistle jokingly at the photo of him. “But more importantly, who is that fine gentleman on the right?”

This makes him scoff out a laugh, flustered by your antics. “I…did the president a favor. Let’s leave it at that.” His reluctance to reveal more sobered you a little. Now you looked too closely at the photo, at the way fists clenched at his sides, the heavy furrow of his brow, those tired, dull eyes. This couldn’t possibly be the same Leon from before, the one laughing in mud. “I hear Ashley is a researcher now.” He remarks kindly, “Hope she’s doing well.”

You only nod, unsure what else to say. Leon picks up the last photo on the ground and flips it over to reveal a fairly recent image. “DSO?” You question, and he hums an affirmative. You recognize the people in the photo as Leon’s coworkers and friends. There hasn’t been much opportunity to get to know each other well, but Chris and Claire do come around every once in a while. Leon wears a suit – jacket discarded to hang over his shoulder – but gives the camera a tight smile. The others in the photo are dressed just as nice, their smiles just as forced. 

“Our first banquet. Mandatory banquet.” He emphasizes with a chuckle. His hand then gives your arm a light squeeze. “This was just before I met you. We were practically running on fumes. I had just flown in from Europe, if you couldn’t tell by the dark circles.” You huff lightheartedly at the comment, but your eyes linger on his false smile. “Hell, I think Chris and Jill had just arrived from Central America too. Needless to say, it wasn’t terribly fun.” 

There’s a beat before Leon finally collects the pictures from you and stands before offering a hand to help you up. He didn’t talk much about his past, so you knew if the opportunity slipped by you now, you’d never muster the bravery to ask again. “Leon,” You say, grabbing his attention as he gently tucks the photos away in the drawer face down. 

“Hm?”

“Why do you keep them?” You ask softly, and he tilts his head at you. “I mean, they seem sad in a way. I know you don’t talk about these things much for a reason, so…why keep the reminders?”

The silence only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like it stretches for minutes. He seems to consider your question seriously though, taking the moment to tap on the closed drawer before exhaling through his nose. “In this line of work, we all have things we’d rather leave in the past.” His gaze remains low, eyes watching his blunt nails pick at the wood of the dresser. “And there was once a time I was so desperate to forget, I nearly…it just got too much.” His sobriety was not new information. You learned about it early on in your relationship, wanting to support him any way you could. But it seems there is more to the story than you originally conceived. “As much as I wanted to forget, I couldn’t. It took a while but I realized…if we don’t remember, then who will?” His palm now lays flat against the drawer, as if he could feel the magnitude of the photos that lay within. “I…owe it to everyone in Raccoon City.” 

Now, you understand. You understand why he doesn’t talk about his missions or his early days in the field. When he’s on the job, it’s all he does. Remember. And you can’t help but admire him all the more for it. The work is demanding – it takes much more than it gives – but Leon’s made peace with it. “Why are you looking at me like that?” His tone is self-conscious suddenly, and he’s trying to mask it with a teasing lilt to his words. 

“I don’t know.” You tease gently, “I think I’m in love with you. Just a bit.”

The corners of Leon’s mouth lift up into a boyish smile, and suddenly it’s like you’re staring into the same, sparkling eyes of that rookie police officer back in 1998. The Leon in the photographs never left, you think. He’s here, scarred and bruised, but grinning like it’s your first date. “Oh, really?” Leon mumbles as he pulls you into his warm chest to rest a pair of soft lips against your forehead, “That’s unlucky.” You pinch his hip playfully. “Ow.” His laugh is a rush of warm air against your skin, and he quickly soothes your anger with another kiss to your head. “I think I love you too. Maybe.”

You hide your smile in his broad chest. “You’re so annoying.”

Leon practically burns with adoration. “Only around you, sweetheart.”

[ikkosu]

Earthspark bumblebee is currently rotting my brain from the inside out so could I ask for so fluffy fem shyer human and bumblebee who are crushing hard for each other but keep both of them keep prolonging confessing to the other the terrans realize what's going on and take it upon themselves try to get them to confess their feelings to each other

SUNSHINE

bumblebee x shy!fem!reader

a/n: tfe bee is so big brother energy 😭 he reminds a lot of what rid bee could be. I had a lot of fun writing this ! totally didn't rewatch all the bee scenes to get his character right,,,,,totally didn't. (I don’t write fluff often so i treid my best I swear)

[i]

"When are you gonna suck it up like a man and confess?"

Twitch startled you from above as the whirs of her fan hummed gently, hovering around you in her alt-mode.

"C'mon! What're you gonna say, huh? Turn away from the problem like you always do?"

Gloved hands, scathed with dirt, halted in the midst of pulling out a persistent weed. You feel your temple burn, a nervous laugh bubbled from your throat as your fingers plunged into the soil once more, pawing around to find the root of the problem.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!".

"I don't know what you mean."

When you did find the source, delicately you curled your fingers into the crevices, balling the soil then, with a huff, yanked the roots out. You're careful not to damage the nearby flowers.

When confronted at the baselines of your problems, you often churn into a sputtering mess. Sometimes, you have to clarify that no, you’re not angry, or no you’re not daunting — that’s your facial expressions constricting. Because if you don't. You're going to cry. And you're going to cry lots over matters daintier than an atom.

"Wuss."

"Twitch. Really you are trying." You sigh when the drone nudged your back.

A quick zip-zap of metallic whirs and she’s in her usual form, yellow eyes ablaze, arms crossed, leaning over with a scowl. Her hips jutted out, sassed-esque — a pose Dorothy used often when she's mad.

"I appreciate your concern but—"

“Dont even try to push it away. I'm not stupid." She prods, getting up to your face. Really, this adorable thing is half a step away from making you ostrich-dunk your head into the soil. "Oh, let me guess : tongue, tied? Busy thinking about a certain someone? Someone, or a bot so yellow like the sun, it’s blinding your eyes?”

You don’t even know where to begin. So, you look into the soil really hard, like you’re trying to find something worth focusing on. Oh, look. A worm. Bingo.

"I'm going to eat that worm if you're not going to look at me."

"Twitch—" You began.

Then, she’s shoved away.

"Sorry, you see. Wh-what she's saying is that, well, you know—" Thrash nudged his head into view, twiddling his thumbs as a demure, placating smile eased on his soft face. "...it's high time you...tell 'im how you feel?"

This time you want to plunge your head into the soil. It’s not a want, it’s a need. The scent of earth was purging strong, beckoning you with it's heed, as you, yet again, choke back another sound. You laugh, nervous. God, this earthworm! So, interesting. Haha. So...so...er. Hm.

"Pshh. How I feel? I feel fine."

"I mean...about your, uh, crush on bee."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Twitched groaned, rolling around the grass all the way from the stack of hays to the tip of your boots. Then, she repeated the motion, each rant about your supposed love life —also, none-existent, if you will— becoming more fervent. That is, until Thrash had plucked her up by the arm pits and she fell limp like a doll in his hold.

" You said you’d be nice about it."

"What’s there to be nice about?! They’re being so smushy mushy , oh darling so lovely, it's giving me the critters!” She growled, clawing the air

You stood up with an uncertain hunch in your shoulder. You’re still holding the clump of soil in your rubber gloves, back taut and jaws slacked. The earthworm was gone, buried in the soil somewhere. You hoped it had a a nice stay unsurfaced for once — and you really should keep twitch away from Wheeljack. She's even swearing, now. She swears!

“Come on, now Twitch. It isn’t so bad.” You say quietly, not trusting yourself to yell at the skies in full volume. Really, you’ll disentigrate.

“You don’t get to talk, wuss.”

“Twitch!’’

“What?”

“Mom said be nice. A person’s word is like a kni—“

"Yeah, well she's a liar!" You shrunk asher digit juts your way. "That's gotta breach the fifteenth rule, right? A whole machete stab?"

Thrash seemed surpise. "You actually remember the rules."

You're exasperated. "What rules? And, what on earth are you both talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me!"

"Really, I'm not." Oh my god, are you really having a verbal spar with a — with a child of all bots that's half your size?!

"Oh, yeah? Then why you're nervous, huh? If you're not nervous then you've got nothing to hide."

"I'm not nervous." You said, blinking profusely.

Twitch made a face. "You're gardening."

"The grass looked bad."

"You garden when you're nervous."

You feel your lungs gave out. Your inner you's are bouncing around in your skull, panicking and screaming in disbelief. Alarm signals, blaring inside. How did she know?!

"N..no? I garden when I'm....happy." You kick the ground sheepishly. Bad call. The soil tipped over a your hold, little dots of brown mingled with the grass. Oh, dear.

"Happy? Please. You're nervous because big 'ol bee didn't have the spark to confess to missy sweet spark with barely any roots to hold herself." Twitch huffs. She's getting to sassy for her own good — "And so are you, wuss."

"We're friends!" You said, though the term was lacking. "Normal friends. Buddy, even. Buddy friends...haha...."

Thrash stiffens.

Twitch deadpans.

Both at the same time uttered : "Really?"

[ii]

They're hiding in a bush. A bush of all places. No, not the tree, obscured by the leaves and a leverage with the branches. Or, whatever hiding place is deemed suitable for this operation. A bush. Can you believe that?

Fluffy Ears nestled herself on the grass, curious eyes skimming over the several Terrans peeking over the bush. Thrash brought it upon himself to hide in the barn because, as per his words, a good spy needs a good hiding place.

The only good thing about his 'prowling' tendencies is the fact he falls asleep during these so-called covert operations. Which is why he gets most of the ranks during training. What a scammer.

Jawbreaker was too large to hide behind a,ugh, bush so he was demoted to simply standing a few meters back, loitering by the fence.

Twitch feels something poking her rib plate. Can't the spot get any more cramped? "Nightshade, I swear to Primus—"

"Hush! There he is! The first move. Hashtag, commence operation : video!"

"That's not even—"

"On it!" Hashtag wrangled out the most, honest to Unicron, humongous camera in existence.

Silence veiled the three Terrans as they spot the yellow black approaching their resident gardener-who-normally-comes-at-the-weekends-and-bee-is-distraught-over-that-fact, tending the newly planted flowers by the hedge.

"So, I was wondering..." He's stretching on his toes, not exactly looking at you.

How could he? Everytime he so much as to catch a glimpse of your face, he feels like tripping over his own pedes and burrowing himself into the ground until comets rain, the world in flames — and god knows when would Primus let him out again.

"You need something, bee?" You swivel up, pawing your apron to get off the dirt from your gloves.

But he looks confused, optics lowered downwards, brows furrowed. You look as well, then up.

"Yellow, huh." He looks away, pointing to your torso.

You look down again then realized what he meant. Your face burns with a vengeance.

"My other apron broke." You try not to stammer but it's proven futile as an amused smile eased over his face. "A-alex decided to give me his, well, you know one of his precious merch which...is typically your...um face on it. If it makes you uncomfortable—"

"No! Gosh, no. You can wear it all you want. I'm just surprised, that's all. You never really... Besides, it's nice...." He looks down and kicks the grass a little, servos behind his back. "It...suits you well."

At the compliment you look up, hoping not to make eye contact, but he does as well and you're both held at a stalemate. His round almond optics droop. For a moment, his lips part, then it shuts. He looks down, avoiding your gaze.

Is he... flustered? At that thought, you fisted the apron, bunching it a little. You look away, hiding the way you smiled a little. " ...It's a pretty color. Yellow, I mean. Honeybee. I love bees."

He looks back up, blue optics flared, and into your eyes. His chassis did those little backward flips and, he swears to Primus, he'll simply disintegrate. You're a lovely color too.

Bee flinched the moment you turn to him at break neck speed, sputtering, eyes wide and face, all the more flustered.

"What?"

"What?" He said that out loud. He said it. Out. Loud. He held up his servos. "I-i meant it's a lovely color. As in, you know, you're a lovely color so like when you said yellow was a lovely color. I thought— What I mean by that is— Oh, forget it." He lets out a deep vent. "It's been a long day. Sorry."

"You're fine. It's fine, I mean." You said. When silence veils over you both (Twitch really wants to strangle you, right now) you speak up again, quietly. "You were going to ask something...?"

His door wings pike up in surprise, much to his chagrin.

"Oh, right. Forgot about that." He coughed and cleared his throat. " I was wondering If you were...you know..." Gosh, what's that word. "Freethisweekend?"

It was so quick and quiet, you didn't really grasp much of what he uttered. “I got free— what's the next—"

"This weekend." He said, then trailed off. "Free... this weekend."

"Oh..." You look to the ground, hands primly folded behind your back.

"To... ah,” Just ask her out. Just ask her out. Worse she can say is no and no. No is fine! If you don't ask, you'll never know. That's what Elita said, right? Right? He sags. She said a lot of things.

He decides to go in for the kill but the moment he met your eyes, your pretty eyes, your temple grew warm, like really warm. He feels his own face burning and he starts stumbling over his words. “Free to. To go. To, um, a, well, a...d—dah, dah, duh, die, no! A, ah, diversion! Yes! Right. Diversion."

A domino effect of forehead slapping commenced. Bee, you fool! Twitch was wrangled back by Hashtag from leaping over the bush.

"Diversion?" Your face furrowed.

"With the....Terrans!" He snapped his servos. " Right, the Terrans. You know, a new lesson I made. Figured you'd be there for support. It's all about the essence of....diversion."

You stand there, mouth opening then closing. "...Sure, I guess. What time?"

"Anytime you're free." He says it, almost breathlessly.

You blink. "I thought it was a scheduled lesson."

His door wings pike up again. He groaned internally. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, uh. Yeah. Right. Schedule….schedule…So, how's ten tommorow? I'll round up the kids by then."

"Sounds good."

"Good. Good. See you....later."

You wave, then turned around, rounding the corner of the house. The moment you did, your face crumbled and you hid your face into your palms, a whine seethed inside your throat. Bee, however, pressed his helm against his servo, sighing.

How did I messed that up so badly?

Meanwhile, in the bush.

"Cut the film, Hash." Twitch resigned.

"But he could push on!"

"I highly doubt that." Nightshade was already crawling away.

Jawbreaker clicked thought the comms. "I saw yellow leaving. Is everything alright?"

"Nothing. Is Thrash dead? Thought so. Saw his head peeking out from the barn. Someone get him, please."

And, while they're all about to regroup. Twitch just had the perfect idea. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.

[v]

Night plunged the skies, freckled with stars reflecting off his windshield as he rolled underneath the veil of darkness.

"Bee quick! Come to the barn! A problem just came up!"

"Twitch?" He was about to scale another ramp when he halted midway, changing course immediately. "C'mon talk to me. What's the problem?"

"Just come! It's urgent!"

Seeds of inky doubts blotched into his mind. The little runt had a lot of tricks up her sleeves. Sure, she's a heavy hitter but also a decent liar. Last time she pulled off the same shtick he was pushed into a hole....filled to the brim with mud. He walked around the vicinity and stank like cow feces for days.

He really should stop letting twitch mingle with Wheeljack.

His wheels rolled up to a stop in front of the barn. The trees, inky black, loomed around the farm, towering above him. He felt a shudder up his spine. Leaves rustled. Crickets chirp. All was quiet. Too quiet.

"Twitch? Kids?" He slid the barn door aside, joints whirring with every step. Hay crunched under his pedes. " Ugh, not this again. Guys, seriously. If, if this, Primus who littered this place? If this is one of your jokes I swear to— huh?"

The basement door was open. A gaping hole, black and swarthy greeted his eyes. Who left that open? He took a step closer. "Guys? Are you in there? What's going on?"

Another step. Then another.

"Look, you can come out now. This isn't funny."

The hole grew bigger, bigger and— Footsteps pattered behind him. It was gentle but it drew alarm as Bumblebee whirled around. And, there she was. Twitch stood before him, a wide, chesire grin on her face. The moonlight illuminated her from behind, casting an ominous shadow that loomed In front of her figure.

"Adios!"

He sputtered in confusion and felt two pedes connecting with his chest and he's sent stumbling back down the steps of Nightshade's underground lab. His shout of surprise was quickly drowned out when Twitch pulled the door shut.

"There! That'll do it." She grinned, fists on her hips. “You got that hash?”

“All on tape. Even his face too! Did you see how he looked like?” Hash stepped out of her hiding place, literally behind the hay. The original culprit of hay litter-er. "They're gonna be there for hours! Trapped in each other's embrace! Oohhhh this is so rad. You've seen those rom-coms, right? It's going be so funny when they come back out.”

"With result." Nightshade chirped, coming up beside them. "It's been awhile something has transpired. A change of the usual routine. Oh, the bore of waiting so long. As a scientist myself. I admit — it can get a little bothersome. Let's only hope the heat from the generator can keep them warm."

Silence. Hashtag feels two optics on her.

"Generator, what generator?"

"....Hashtag." They begin slowly. Twitch looks mortified.. "....Please tell me you didn't cut off the generator when I said only to cut off the vault."

Confusion furrowed her brows. "How else would the door be locked if I didn't?"

Twitch groaned, head into her palms.

Nightshade stares at the closed vault. "....Oh, dear."

[vi]

"Unnfh!" His helm collided against the floor. Great. That’s just great. Mentor student. Mentor student! You don’t do this to your mentors! Annoyance bubbled inside his chassis and he grits his teeth. That is it. That is it. He’s had enough of her tomfoolery, her jokes, her tricks! Tommorow, he’s going to put her through hell and back—

“Bee?” He feels something warm touching his shoulder.

His helm swivels up, then his optics widens in surpise when your nose is inches away from his own. You make a flustered sound, suddenly falling back on your ass to put space between you both, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d uh be that close.” Was a soft mumble. “The fall looked like it hurt. You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m fine.” He breaths out, scrambling up to sit properly. He’s not sure what position, so he curled up his knee plates to his chassis. Your eyes are too…impossible to look at. “Think I broke a joint there.”

“You break joints too?”

He huffs a laugh, “You don’t think we do?” “I mean as in,” You gesture to his body, “ You know, cracking joints. Is it equivalent to me popping my knuckles? I saw you did it this morning when you stretch.” You trailed off, then shake your head. “Sorry, it’s a stupid question.”

“It’s fine. It’s not stupid. You’re not….stupid.” He clears his throat, “We also experience cramps. Tension in the joints when, well, like how a rusty hinged door won’t open up all the way.”

“Oh, that’s one way to put it.” You scoot a bit closer, pressing up against his leg. Bumblebee stiffens, servos moving over to stiffly cup your back to keep on you warm. The air was unusually chilly today. His quick scans showed the generator wasn’t working. Did the lights went out? His servos graze over your shoulders, massaging it a little, then behind your neck.

“And, and that one time. I don’t think you know him yet, he’s an old friend back during the war," He starts rambling for something to say anything to keep the conversation going, “His name’s Ratchet. Old bot forgot to oil up his pistons and couldn’t move for an entire day! Can you believe that? We had to carry him everywhere we went. Once, I was caught in the crossfire. Bullets were raining. Full on barrage. Nonstop. And he’s just like that, a plank of wood in my arms as I ran. You should’ve seen the look in his face!

“I can imagine he’s not happy,” A giggle bubbled in your throat. His audials perk up. “Yeah, I can tell. He’s a lot less crass in his manners when he dealt with me,” Bee leans a bit close, the servo skims down to your torso. “After all the bedgruding looks I’ve gotten from him — he’s got no choice but to give me special treatment of letting me off a few scolding.” “Oh? Why’s that,”

“I’m not exactly the prim and proper type.”

“My, my is bee the rebellious type?”

He lowers his voice into a playful whisper. “I had a phase, okay? Everyone does. Mine, though, it’s just worse than Arcee’s. She’s unhinged too but waaaay less moody. But don’t tell the kids that. I’m not going to have my name sullied, you hear?”

“Noted, officer. But I really can’t promised I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

He groans then a digit nudges your ribs. “No, really I’m serious. They’re going to kill me with that. I don’t want another incident to tarnish my reputation. Ive got Jawbreaker pestering me about how I made a mistake choosing my first alt-mode, I don’t need another slander. My feelings,” he says with a servo over his chassis, “they’re fragile.”

“Come on,” you leaned forward, cheek against his leg plate. Bee looks away, holding himself back from, well, squishing that…squishy part of your face. “It’s not so bad. The beetle looked adorable.”

“Beetle. Really? Beetle?” He looked almost offended you termed it that way.

“Isn’t that what it’s called?” He leans over and flicks your head. “I’d prefer it if you called it something else.”

You laugh. “I’ll bite, then. The Beatles?”

“No,” He said the words too fast, “Honey.”

You freeze. He freezes.

He did not just say that. Oh, no. He did not. He did not. When you look away that’s when he panicked. No! He’s not going to let the past few minutes go to waste! “As in yellow! Honey as in yellow!” He backpedaled, raising up his servos. “You know when I— when you said that, I was—" What’s up with him today? Then, he sags, muttering defeatedly. “It’s not what you think I meant to say.”

He’s blown it. Thrown it all down the drain. All his hard work now crumbled at the mere touch of his fingertips. You speak up after a moment, “What if…I wanted it to be what I think you meant?”

He looks at you again, surprise. He felt his spark clenching. This time you held firm eye contact despite your hands that were shaking. Think about gardening. Think about gardening. This is like that! Like he’s a flower. Gentle to hold. You steeled yourself and stood up on your toes, palms on his knee plates as you leaned in close.

“What did you meant?” You said softly.

His servos reached out to cup your cheek, curling his digits around the back of your hair. You leaned against his touch, closing your eyes. It was warm. His touch was warm. Pulsing and thrumming against your face.

“What I meant is that you’re someone important to me.” Then, he pulls you close, his optics flickering back and forth nervously. “So important I….think about you a lot. Like, a lot. I can’t….really stop. Even when I want to….its hard.”

Your face burns but you’re not letting that deter you. If god decided to kill you today, you’d steel on, wading through his comets. Think about the garden! You close the distance and your lips find the crook of his nose, pressing a gentle kiss to it, then his cheek. Your palms rested on his shoulder. Bee blinks, choking back a surpised sound at the touch but his servos manage to find your waist, curling his digits around the fabric of your shirt and pulls you close. He tilts his head so his lips would find yours.

“I think about you too.” You mumble against his lips.

[accio-victuuri]

March CPNs

this month’s banner theme is tennis boyfriends! lol. when i saw it, i knew it would fit, cause this month was also when WYB went for the lacoste show and most interviews was him talking about tennis. and who is the other actor who mentioned this sport too? another coincidence! why is it always them? 😂😂😂 from new au pairings, coins, similarities and kadian drama— this month delivered the goods to us!

time to review and look back at the delicious candies we ate this month:

• the bone necklace potentially getting replaced because of some anti rumors and what it means.

• circle elements in xzs vlog is a nod to cpf comments that have yellow circles

• lacoste and bjyx

• yibo shows cpfs some love at chanel pfw

• here are some other pfw minor clownery. 🌸

a nice detail seen in his clothes/jacket are red and green flowers. you all know how we feel about red and green in this fandom. yeah, this must be a stylist’s choice blah blah blah but that just how cpns work. and it’s so cute too!

descendants of the sun parallel! please! you all know i’m weak for this shit. chenwei will always reign supreme, but what if chen yu decides to go full on army or whatever.

i also found it funny how fans are noticing the difference with their clothes. xz was revealing in his own way & wyb was all covered up. of course these are two different brands so the clothes and everything will not be the same. but that’s actually what’s good about them, how different they are. and yet— they complement each other really well and have the same values in life. they try and learn what the other person’s interest is so they can have a better relationship. 🤍

posing with their female seatmates 🤣🤣🤣

• a similarity we noticed too was that wyb was on his phone before the lacoste show, and it reminded us of how xz was doing the same at gucci mfw. i think we went 👀 because for xz, we were already clowning that he was messaging wyb or reading message from him then something similar happens to wyb. it could be a completely different thing and who can blame them for checking their phone while on “downtime” — but let us be with our fake story from these two incidents 😌😌😌

• on 3/5 chang feng po lang released a new character poster for wyb’s character wei ruolai. because of it, a new AU pairing was born. wei ruolai x patient #5. i swear. their characters look good together! some also pair wei ruolai up with xiao sa or chunsheng 😂😂😂

i have to say younger chunsheng before he went to military and ruolai match so well together!

• same answers on fashion week interviews: comfortable dressing & the color black

• another perspective on the coin that appeared in zz’s vlog - relation to wei ruolai and war of faith trailer this is further “proven” when wei ruolai’s character posted was revealed and he was tossing a coin. look, i know it’s highly unlikely that the whole concept was a way to tease us with WYB’s drama. but it’s a nice double meaning and more! 🪙🪙🪙

• since there is a new character out for one of them, another new AU pairing was born! wei ruolai x xiao chunsheng 🤍🤍🤍

• the two of them being featured at vogue website as stand outs during their respective fashion week appearances. it’s not really cpn but more on them being the power couple 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 and i’m just so proud of them. years later, they still shine so bright and it has no signs of even fading.

even with weibo engagement, both of them were on top during their respective events. no one could even come close. and why, it’s so hard for them to work together, or why no one would allow that to happen cause it will be game over. lol.

• our dearest tennis couple 🎾 ; this has become more prevalent in the fandom because of wyb’s lacoste ad!

• the inception possibility - tbh i’m just desperate to relate this movie to them and a cpn 😂😂😂

• the collab between cotti and dove - this is most likely a business movie that has no input from xz and wyb. these are big brands that take care of their company but what’s sus is how cotti posted the announcement of this collab at 10:05. you would think dove would be the one to do that since xz is their endorser. or they could use 10, 10:10 or 10:30 posting time which are equally usual time slots for brand announcements. but no. it feels intentional on their side to use that association. of course it led to some drama but we still made some lemonade out of it by going through some old endorsement CPN examples that was funnily enough, dug out by solo fans who are clowns themselves.

• some are clowning (slightly) over WYB’s alleged kadian a day after the cotti drama when he FW the post for olympics because it read a (14:38) lifetime zhanbo. but you all know how picky i am with kadians. the vcr was shared 14:30 so i guess he only had a narrow window to share, not sure if intentional or not. for me, personally, not everything is kadian. considering the topic too, this is a national/international event. i don’t think it should be used for cpn. i’d like to think WYB is more professional than we are. but who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️

• this bts video from war of faith! it shows wyb being active — moving around and doing some exercises. reminds us so much of how xz was like during SBMS bts that was released. they are so similar!

• GG’s weibo post the night before WoF premiere

• adding this to the list of brands they both use for their wardrobe: NANS. as usual disclaimer, these are clothes used in brand shoots and may have been chosen by hired stylist of the brand or their own. who knows. i just like archiving stuff like this, especially for lesser known brands that seem to only be worn by them. some examples below:

lesser known because XZ/WYB are so popular so you would expect them to wear name brands. if not, a company that the general public likes. on weibo, the brand only has 132k followers which is pretty low and they don’t repost photos of celebrities who used their clothes— nothing about WYB or XZ or anyone else.

• 3/21, premiere date of WoF, WYB shares a new trailer for the drama. The weibo account of WoF posted @ 9:58 and WYB on 10:06. So the CPN is, did he miss? was this supposed to be 10:05? considering what XZ did the day before with his post. Personally, i’m relieved that he didn’t do it 10:05 to prevent drama with his so/os because this time is crucial. we can’t afford these sensitive ass fans turning away from him and not supporting his work. he is too smart for that, he knows all too well how these things go.

I like this interpretation from cpfs that he didn’t miss, it’s yibo, if he wants to do it 10:05 he will. but he has limits right now, those who know (us cpfs) will get the meaning and understand him. and we do. we always do 💛

•xz molsion live show clues: lego/puzzles, camping and chasing dramas

• xiao zhan calling wyb lai lai ( fake rumor )

• 3/25 XZS post where the 380 yuan fan makes an appearance and the 8th picture significance

• 3/26 fake rumor 🗣️🗣️🗣️

wls wants xls to call him “gege”, xls didn’t, so wls tickled him, xls had no choice so he called wls “gege” softly, after he said it he blushed so hard, and wls didn’t allow us to look 👀.fake rumor don’t believe it

• 3/27 IQIYI livestream/ watch-a-long event with WYB and him smiling when the host said side by side in the snowy mountain part one . part two 💛💛💛

• 3/28 we got to see a VCR of ZZ and his style looks similar to Bobo’s

• new lounge wear brand cp! bananain x miiow 😍😍

• a cute coincidence that in episode 21 of WoF it is revealed that in his hometown, Wei Ruolai has a nickname: “gou gu zai” = Definition: Jiangxi dialect. Refers to a child who has just entered his youth. Young people, they are not deeply involved in the world, but they are full of energy. like a puppy, lively and noisy.

it is exactly like gouzaizai but that one is from Chongqing. i know this is a script and fiction, but the director himself said that when WYB went in as Ruolai, he was inspired by WYB’s personality irl. It also means we were all right, looking at Lai Lai as a puppy during the show.

it’s just so nice to know that GG already found out what WYB’s personality was like early on. that he is a puppy — and feeds more truth to the cpn that GG was the one who gave the 🦴 necklace. a bone for a puppy.

• XZ’s xinxiangyin live “clue” on what activities they do spending time outdoors

-END.

P.S: and that’s the 1st quarter of the year done! just like that! actually, a lot of things happened in the fandom and i’m happy that both the boys continue to be active and we always have content. i also wanna take this time to thank everyone who supports both of them + cpfs who interact with me & my posts i appreciate you! <3 i hope the community here continues to grow and we all have this safe space to be cpfs 🤍🤍🤍

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[pisupsala]

One for The History Books [Chapter 6] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words] 3.9k

[Index] All Chapters | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Epilogue

[Library]

One for The History Books - Chapter 6: Adrift You sleep restlessly that night. Your brain is overtired from everything that happened—the sudden orders to ship out, Lt. Bradshaw coming to you, Lt. Bradshaw cumming for you. The bottom line is: this is more than a temporary lapse in judgment and making out in the parking lot. This is premeditated, and considering you are entering the crucial part of the mission, namely the actual execution, this would be a very bad time for anyone - Riks for example—finding out about your... fling.

No. Fuck session? No, that's not it. Hot, steamy, desperate I-might-die-soon-sex. Something to that effect you suppose. The moment this assignment is over, you need to recuse yourself, regardless that it's a bad move for your career. You cannot be involved in any further research, and you cannot risk anyone finding out you compromised your impartiality for a fine piece of naval fighter pilot ass. Like, really fine. You giggle as you think of explaining to your boss, a retired marine colonel, how, sure—you broke a cardinal rule of documentation and research, but have you seen Lt. Bradshaw? And just present his picture as evidence. Your boss might actually murder you for that. Ultimately, it's moot if Lt. Bradshaw will actually call you or not. As far as your job is concerned, the damage is already done, and all you can do is to keep it under wraps and finish this as soon and as well as possible. The insane rule-bending ways of TOPGUN are rubbing off on you. You really want Lt. Bradshaw to call you, though. And that's the crux of your dilemma. You've worked so hard, for so many years, to get where you are. You love what you do. Are you really about that throw that away on a man? Because he's charming, good-looking and a good lay?

It's not like you—at all. However, you cannot, just fucking can not bring yourself to regret having sex with Bradshaw. Perhaps you will come to bitterly regret it, but for now, you just want to continue in these feelings of being wanted. Needed. Not because of what you can do for someone, fix their problem, but just... for you. And it feels so good. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As the squadron is on their way to the USS Roosevelt that is coming to pick them up somewhere off the coast of Hawaii, there is no morning brief to sift through. Simpson and Bates left with the squadron (presumably to keep them in hand), which leaves you with no unexpected requests. That's actually kind of nice, you conclude. So you spend the morning packing files for transport to the Pentagon. Each time you stretch your left arm, you feel the dull ache of the bite mark on your collar bone. A shiver runs down your spine as you think of Bradley marking you like that.

When you were getting dressed that morning, you realized that the bite mark—a hard-to-miss purple—posed a somewhat logistical problem. It would peek from under the collar of most shirts you had, so you were resigned to wearing blouses, buttoned-up high in an almost matronly fashion. It's exciting. Hiding dirty evidence of dirty, delicious deeds. Your eyes keep going to your phone—while you usually keep it in your purse, you've perched it against some books on your desk. As you move around the office packing papers, you have a clear view of any incoming calls and messages. Truly, it's like you're back in high school. Every time your phone buzzes, you lunge for it, disappointed to see a notification from your email, app updates and recommendations. Ugh. It's kind of pathetic how starved you are for his attention. It's almost dinnertime when your phone buzzes in the pocket of your slacks. You get immediate butterflies. It's him. You just know it is. You duck into a quiet hallway just before the chow hall entrance, back to the route full of personnel on their way to and from dinner. You take a deep breath as you fish your phone from your pocket with trembling fingers. A notification from your message app. Sender: BB.

Your heart is doing somersaults now. You click the notification and start to hastily enter your code. You are so excited, you actually mistype on the first try. God. Calm and easy. It's a text. As the app finally unlocks, the message pops up in the chat.

“all hands safely on deck” What the fuck? Another message pops up. “no visual. opsec” You imagined many different things Bradley could send you. This...was not among any of the scenarios you envisioned. What in the ever-loving fuck is this supposed to mean? Another message. ;) He's fucking with you. You snort out loud. Shit, of course he would. You went straight into overthinking. Not bothering with any grace period for answering—god knows how long he'll have signal or time to talk— you write back. “All is quiet on the western seafront” You think for a second, and continue, deliberately copying his style of writing: “no visual. chow hall” You feel giddy and you see the three dots appear in the bottom left of the screen. He is typing. “hah, clever. love a good movie reference” You're bouncing on your heels. “Are you into old movies?” “the classics, sure. more of a music guy tbh” He continues: “but i'm open to recommendations” Your heart flutters. He's actually interested? “You bring the music, I'll bring the movies” You type quickly. You cannot remember the last time a text conversation made you this excited.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Willams?” You yelp loudly and nearly drop your phone in surprise, fumbling and catching it just in time. Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest—not the sexy way, but in the scared shitless kind. “What do you want, Riks?” You say testily, shoving your phone in your pocket. “Why are you standing here? Aren't you going to eat?” Y He sounds bored, and you wonder why he even bothers talking to you outside of work. “Yeah, on my way, had some personal business.” As the words leave your mouth, your phone vibrates. Damnit.

“Go ahead, I'm coming up right behind you.” You hope you don't sound as impatient as you feel. Riks just quirks an eyebrow, and to your relief, turns and starts walking into the chow hall. As soon as he's a few steps ahead, you grab your phone and unlock it. It opens on the messaging app. “as long as you bring yourself” You flush. Shit. Fingers trembling from giddiness, you reply. “I could be convinced to come” The reply is immediate.

"i know ;)"

You are just about ready to melt into a puddle. “WILLAMS!” Riks is standing in the chow hall doorway and looks actually pissed. Jesus, like he's your teacher. Quickly, you leg it after him to dinner, your phone just about burning a hole in your pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You eat quickly, although you can barely finish your meal. Eating with your phone in your hand with Riks across from you would be too rude (why did he even want to eat together today of all days, he's just droning on about unimportant work stuff). Not that you particularly care about being rude to him, of all people. It's that, as misfortune would have it, Riks is far from dumb. Annoying, cock sure and overconfident in his abilities at work—but he's clever. Especially when it comes to weaseling his way to information that could benefit him personally or get him one over on others professionally. You stuff the candy bar you got yourself as your desert in your pocket, not really wanting to sit around the chow hall longer than necessary. You walk, hopefully casually enough, back to your barracks room, fingers drumming on your phone in your pocket.

Once you're satisfied you're far enough, and Riks is not following you, you grab your phone again.

“Sorry—had to take evasive maneuvers against a blue falcon”

You hit send, stupidly hoping Bradley didn't think you left him on read. As adults, surely he wouldn't take it personally... right? “he's a pesky one" The answer arrives promptly, quickly followed by another. “coast clear?” “All clear”

You kick off your shoes and the door clicks closed behind you. Throwing your phone and candy bar on the bed, you unbutton your slacks and step out of them. It's growing dark rapidly while you rummage around for your pj's.

You keep an eye on your phone from the corner of your eye. No new notifications. You pull your hair in a bun, and grab your laptop—seeing no use in grabbing a book, as—how could you focus on reading tonight? You lay down on top of your covers in an oversized shirt and shorts, unwrapping your candy bar, and scrolling through one of the many tabs you keep open to distract yourself. Of course, the moment you have taken a big bite of your chocolate —too big, because you're alone in your room, and who cares about manners when you're eating a candy bar in your pj's on a weekday? — your phone buzzes. Except it doesn't stop buzzing. Stopping mid-chew, your brain connects that it's not a text coming in, it's a call. Oh god. You clasp your hand over your mouth as you force yourself to chew faster, seeing the caller ID on the screen.

BB. Of course. He did say he would call. Chew, chew, chew! Swallowing heavily, you pick up your phone. “Mwhello?” Yikes, well, close enough. An amused chuckle greets you from the other side of the line. “Am I interrupting?” His voice sounds quiet, like he is trying to keep the conversation private. You assume that if he's on the ship already, there's probably not that much privacy. Mouth finally clear of chocolate, you push away your embarrassment. “Hah, no, just an evening snack.” You say lightly. “How are you?” “Tired, mostly.” Bradley's voice still sounds amused. “What about you? No bird of prey circling?” “Oh no, thank god.” You chuckle dryly. “I gave him the slip after dinner.” “You could just tell him to fuck off, instead of stealthing around base.” Bradley laughs.

“And give him the satisfaction that he got a rise out of me?” You question. “No, no, the less attention, the better. He's barely worth more.” “Such a rational approach.” He teases you. “What would you have done? Punched him?” You quip playfully. “I probably should have that time at breakfast for yelling at you.” He sounds matter of fact, although there's an edge to his voice. “Although I admire your stoicism.” You flush—he sounds so protective. A warmth fills your stomach. “Well, I certainly do appreciate the sentiment, lieutenant.” You smile. Normally, the nerves would have reduced you to a blushing, babbling puddle, but Bradley is so easy to talk to. Maybe it's because you're on the phone, your brain can actually focus on words, rather than his tall, tan and muscular physique.

You continue talking about light topics—Bradley promising to send you music recommendations, talking about your favorite movies and fun stuff to do around Miramar. The conversation turns to life on a ship. “So you're back on a regimen of peanut butter and jelly?” You giggle.

“If I'm lucky, I won't be out on sea that long this time.” Suddenly, he lets out a deep sigh. You can almost feel his mood change.

“The atmosphere is weird on the ship. Everyone is on edge—more than usual.” His voice is low and serious. “Do you feel more on edge than usual?” You ask softly. “Yeah - fuck, I don't know.” He sounds frustrated. “It's not like I'll be flying the mission anyway.” You sit up in your bed, frowning. “What makes you say that?” You don't remember reading anything pointing to Bradley not getting chosen—hell, you haven't seen anything about any possible mission team members. Mitchell, who would be making the decision, was keeping his card close to his chest. Nothing even specifically stood out from reports as much better or worse in the assessment of Bradley's flying skills—he was cautious, but all candidates had flaws that held them back from being successful in training. “Maverick has it out for me. He's going to bench me.” He sounds definitive in his conclusion. But you can hear the disappointment in his voice. Flying is his purpose and getting picked for a mission, no matter how insane, is a matter of honor and pride—a testament to unparalleled skill. “It sounds like that is about more than just the mission.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bradley closes his eyes. Your voice sounds soft and soothing, but your perceptiveness cuts through. He hadn't wanted to talk about this, he wanted to have a fun, flirty, maybe sexy conversation to get his mind off things. But his temper got the better of him.

And you just sit there listening and being kind and understanding, making it so fucking easy to just unload. “He pulled my papers from the Naval Academy.” Bradley says bitterly. “He did what?” The sharp disbelief in your voice feels like a validation of all the resentment Bradley's been holding on to. The things he never really wanted to tell anyone about—the years of anger and pain of the betrayal—suddenly come tumbling out. “And all he tells me, is that I wasn't ready.” Bradley seethes. “A lot has changed since then.” Your voice is calm, and soothes some of his anger. Bradley sighs, trying to calm himself down. “Maverick set me back 4 fucking years, and he'll keep holding me back.” A note of defeat in his voice. “I know it's a small consolation, but it will be just this mission—you won't be under his command beyond that.” You try to encourage him. “Ultimately, you can't change what happened, but you can choose how to move forward from it.” “I'm sorry.” Bradley says softly, tiredly. His anger subsiding. “What for?” He notes the surprise in your voice, like you don't even think it's strange to compassionately accept his anger. “I didn't mean to bring this up, burden you with this.” He says slowly. “This was supposed to be a fun call.” “Please don't worry.” Your voice sounds hurried. “You needed to blow off some steam, and I hope I could help a bit.” Bradley smiles. Your acceptance of him gives him a warm feeling in his chest that he hasn't felt in a long time. He's been attracted to you since he saw you dunk that beer at the Hard Deck—first just kind of impressed by you dunking that beer in the first place, but also the cute flare of your temper to just shut the whole table up. He felt intrigued as you stumbled and blushed around him, but then suddenly would tease and meet him beat for beat. “I could think of a few other ways to blow off steam...” Bradley teases, voice deliberately low, grin on his face. The strangled little squeak on the other end of the line makes him grin broader. He can just imagine you blushing so delightfully as he throws you this curveball.

“Ah- ehm- I-” He chuckles as he listens to you struggle to form a sentence. “Darlin'...” He croons softly, laying it on thick. “I don't have much tim - jesus fucking christ!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You nearly fall off the bed as Bradley suddenly swears loudly. Your face is burning and your heart pounds, so loudly you can barely hear the other end of the line. “Bradley?” You ask, hesitantly. On the other end, you hear a muffled voice. Bradley's annoyed voice cuts in, closer than the other voice, but he's clearly not talking into the phone. “I swear to god, Bob, don't fucking sneak up on people like that. I'm having a private conversation here.” The other voice is talking hurriedly—you still can't make out what they are saying. “Yeah, yeah, I'll be there shortly.” Bradley's voice is dismissive. “Sweetheart-” His voice has taken on a softer quality again. “I have to go. Rain check on where we left off?” You swallow heavily. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” You say somewhat breathlessly. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you grin. “You owe me one now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In the next two days, comms between you and Bradley are sporadic. He's out a sea now, so you know his reception will be spotty at best, never mind that he is probably busy with the final preparations for the mission. It's 48 hours until the mission is planned—weather conditions permitting. That means that today, Mitchell should have assembled his flight team and announce his picks. You have a strange feeling in your stomach—not quite nerves, but a foreboding feeling. You have not really examined your own feelings on the possibility of Bradley getting picked for the mission—he wants to do it, obviously. You almost feel like it's not really your place to have an opinion on it—sure as hell not as a professional, let alone personally. In your heart of hearts, the whole thing terrifies you. So when you are handed the morning brief containing the definite mission team, you don't open it immediately. Steeling yourself, willing your fingers not to tremble, you flick through the pages. Your eyes scan for the attack formation. Dagger 2 - Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw You slam the folder shut. Shit. You should be happy for him, but... but what? You chastise yourself. It's what he wants, it's what he does—and your opinion on it doesn't matter. You're not his girlfriend. Pushing your feelings on the matter away, you grab your phone and shoot Bradley a quick text. “Congrats :*” He probably won't see the message till late, but it's the thought that counts, letting him know you are thinking about him. The uneasy feeling in your stomach has only gotten stronger and doesn't leave the rest of the day. Late that evening, when you are in bed, you are forcing yourself to read your new book to get your mind off that strange feeling. It only works so-so as every few paragraphs you get distracted by errant thoughts about Bradley and the mission. No. It's really not something you should be overthinking this much. It's not about you. You tap your phone, no notifications, but it's nearing midnight. This would probably be a good time to go to sleep—the mission time is going to happen in the middle of the night local time, so getting as much sleep as you can beforehand is probably a good idea.

You flick off the light on the nightstand, curl up, and start looking for a video on your phone to listen to while you fall asleep. Clicking a random long video, you nestle in and close your eyes. You are not quite asleep, but dozing. Somewhere, from far away, the sound of the video is replaced by buzzing. Why is it buzzing? It's not supposed to be buzzing. How annoying. Flailing, you sit up in your bed—your phone is ringing. In a panic, you scramble for it in the pitch dark of your room. You don't even have to look at the caller ID, only one person would call you this late. “Hi” Your voice is thick from sleepiness. “I'm sorry, darlin', were you already asleep?” Bradley sounds apologetic. You clear your throat. “No, no, it's okay, don't worry about it.” You say quickly, betraying your eagerness. He chuckles. “I know it's already late back there, but I just wanted to hear your voice for a little bit.” You blush, not actually knowing what to say. “I have been thinking about you today.” You admit. “Have you, now?” His voice takes on a teasing quality. You swallow. “I meant...” You start, flustered. “With the team being announced today.” “Let's not talk about that now, darlin'.” Bradley's voice is low and smooth. “I'd rather hear how you've been thinking about outside of work hours.” Your mouth is dry. Is he serious? You're about as much turned on as you are embarrassed. Which is a lot on both accounts. You stumble over your words, reaching for something to say—something sexy, preferably. “I—I've never done this before.” Your voice trails off in embarrassment. Way to go, very sexy. “That's okay, sweetheart.” Bradley's voice is deep with desire. “I've been thinking about you so much - fuck, you cumming on my hand while moaning my name keeps me awake at night.” Heart beating loudly, you are wide awake now. Your fingers wander over your collar bone to the mark Bradley left on you. It's slightly faded, but still tender to the touch. You inhale sharply and close your eyes. “You marked me.” You utter breathlessly. “I can feel you with every move.” Licking your dry lips, you continue; “I have to hide it, and it's such a massive fucking turn on.” “I'll mark you as mine as much as you'll let me.” He's practically purring. God, that voice alone sends shivers down your spine. “I can't wait.” You rub your thighs together in anticipation as you lay back on your pillow. “I want to feel you on me.” “Tell me, darlin', how wet are you for me now?” You hum in reply, and your hand, as if it has a mind of its own, dips into your shorts. Just from the short conversation, you are already soaking. You moan softly. On the other end of the line, Bradley lets out a grunt. “You have to tell me, darlin', I'm not there to taste you.” “Fuck -” You let out a strangled sigh. “You make me so wet, I need—your touch.” “I want to hear you make yourself cum.” He's commanding you again. It's sending waves of heat down to your wet pussy. Your fingers start to stroke up and down your slit, spreading your juices. “Are you hard for me, baby?” You moan out as you softly run your fingertips over your clit. You hear Bradley swearing under his breath. “Hell, darlin', how could I not be with you moaning so sweetly.” He replies, voice thick. You start rubbing harder. “I want you to eat my pussy so fucking badly.” You say bravely as your breath hitches. “So much better than just fingers...” “Look at you talking dirty and swearing.” Bradley chuckles. “I want to find out how loud I can make you scream, eating you out.” “I'll ruin you for everyone else, darlin'” The possessiveness in his voice is doing strange things to you. You plunge two fingers into your cunt, the heel of your hand rubbing against your clit.

“I - I want no one else but you.” Your eyes are screwed shut from the overwhelming sensation of his words and your hand. “Your hand on my throat...” “Keep going...” Bradley grunts out. “There's so much I want to do to you—suck you off 'till you forget your own name. Cum over your cock over and over...” You are more moaning than talking. Bradley is breathing heavily. “Shit, sweetheart, I'm so close.” Your fingers move back to your clit and start moving erratically. “If you ruin me, I'm taking you with me, baby.” A heavy grunt comes from the other end of the line, followed by the dull sound of what is probably his back hitting a wall. He is panting and softly swearing. You are close now, the budding orgasm tightening the muscles in your abdomen. “Bradley...” You breathe. “I'm going to cum...” “Keep going, sweetheart.” His voice is hoarse. “Give the sweetest send-off I could ask for.” And with that, you fall over the edge, moaning his name like a prayer. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[note] Yikes, was so busy at work, this took a bit longer than anticipated. I can't wait for TGM to come out on stream, I've only seen it once and I know I'm missing a ton of story beats that could make the dynamic more interesting, but I don't quite remember in which order they happened—oops. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! [taglist]@ponyboys-sunsets | @thatchickwiththecamera | @littlewhiterose | @katieshook02 | @straightforwardly | @zazzysseoul | @rororo06 | @datingbtr | @notalxx | @fresh-new-yoik-watah | @gretagerwigsmuse  | @swthxrry | @joshkiskasbunion | @caelipartem | @blackbrownie | @yanak324 | @unluckymonaghan | @letusbewildflowers | @ticklish-leafy-plant | @alana4610 | @eg-dr3amer3 

[moonkkives]

— ( THE LOVE CLUB! ) ft. carlos sainz

pairing: charles leclrec x fem!reader ft. carlos sainz ( tiny bit )

summary: you weren’t interested on formula one at all, but bonding with the fiery ferrari boys on a golf club certainly brought the heat up.

warning: swearing, friends with benefits, smut ( dirty talk, praise, kinda rough, masturbation, cocky!charles, exhibitionism if you squint ), ferrari boys🥵, tiny bit of carlos thrown in the mix

word count: 2.2k

them: the love club by lorde

author’s note: sheesh, that was hard. i could not stop thinking about this plot and i wouldn’t focus on anything else until i rote it down so it started to become a problem lmao. also, i’m in my carlos era🌶 so excuse me for putting him literally everywhere.

the monte carlo golfing club was a green paradise lined with blue between the sea and the sky. it was also the the perfect place to find rich bachelors hoping for a perfect match. or a fuck buddy, whichever happened first.

the sun was beaming high through your overly expensive sunglasses as the wind blew softly, short white skirt lifting almost teasingly and leaving little to imagination as your long toned legs stole the show and caught a few eyes. you had a relaxed smile on your face: chin always high and a posed stand. a complete nepotism baby. you let out a breath before hitting the ball with a swing full of precision, ball lifting into the air and landing a few inches closer to the hole.

you hummed in satisfaction, wiggling her manicured fingers inside her gloves and becoming aware of your surroundings. the light chatter around the golf course was suddenly interrupted by her brother’s loud voice greeting someone. you turned around, long hair swinging as she watched a certain monégasque man you knew very well smile at your brother.

charles was accompanied by who she could recognize as his teammate, carlos sainz. you watched him smile and put his hand inside the pocket of his shorts, whilst charles introduced him to your brother. carlos eyes wandered around the place, taking in the scenery before his eyes got caught in the french beauty standing a few feet in front of him. he couldn’t help but bite his lip, taking you in.

“good to see you back man!” her brother exclaimed with a smile, “we missed you around here.” he patted charles’ back.

your heart started beating faster as you watched charles intently. you allowed your eyes to travel lower, appreciating the way his white shirt hugged his body. hard chest bulging out and strong legs confined in perfectly tailored pants. you couldn’t help but bite your lips as you remembered eagerly taking off his pants whilst he roughly pushed you to your knees and had you suck his cock in the club’s bathroom a a few months ago.

whilst continuing your admiration and, like your body was waiting for it, you suddenly felt a heat travel through her. looking up, you catched charles looking directly at you. his eyes sparkled with desire and he winked teasingly, his brother too busy talking his heart out with carlos whilst looking for something on his phone to realize his best friend couldn’t keep his eyes off of his sister.

charles smirked and you couldn’t help but raise a brow, the corners of yours lifting and reciprocating his. you rested your golf stick on the fresh grass in front of yourself, both arms holding onto it as you supported your body weight, long legs crossing. you gave them a smile, before turning back to your game.

that not only brought the attention of charles, but of carlos too. thankfully for them, your father came by and interrupted her very talkative brother, needing his son’s presence for a few minutes.

as your brother walked away, carlos would help but let out a sigh. “dios mio, what a beauty.”

charles’ chest bubbled with jealousy and he had to contain himself very hard so as to not punch his teammate. mattia certainly wouldn’t appreciate that, “careful with those eyes.” he said lazily, but with a tone that couldn’t be mistaken as a warning.

carlos’ eyes widened, looking at him in realization, “fuck mate, is she your girl? sorry, i didn’t know.” he mustered the most sincere apology he could but damn, it was so hard to stop looking at that face and— fuck, that body, he thought, as she swinged the golf ball.

“she’s not.” he chuckled. lies, “but she is my friend’s sister. your certainly don’t want to get involved in that.”

“mierda. what a shame. she’s beautiful, man.”

charles hummed in acknowledgment, “she is.” he simply said: he knew you were beautiful. and you were also his. his beautiful girl.

before carlos’ could say anything else your brother arrived and once again engaged in a conversation with the drivers. however, charles’, and now carlos’ minds were somewhere else.

charles couldn’t keep his eyes out of you and almost had to resist a groan as his eyes raked through your body; the nails that were coated on a pretty white color that had left marks on his back, the legs that had been wrapped around his waist and the mouth that had once been around his cock and lips, moaning his name. he couldn’t wait to put his arms around your body, again.

you peeked over your shoulder and couldn’t help but chuckled as charles jumped slightly, completely startled as he was asked a question about a conversation he clearly wasn’t a part of. you turned back around as charles patted your brother’s shoulder before leaving him talking to carlos. the spaniard he threw his teammate a confused glance when he saw him approach the girl.

you felt a sudden presence behind as one of his arms wrapped around your waist. his big hand spread on your stomach as he held you close, “hello, mon amour.” charles purred, lips brushing your ear. you bit your lip in hopes of suppressing a smile and your head turned over his shoulder, discreetly looking past to see if by any chance your brother or father were close: thankfully, your brother was too invested in his conversation with carlos and your father was nowhere to be seen.

charles tutted, firmly grabbing your jaw with the hand that wasn’t pressed on your stomach, “eyes on me, babygirl.” he said in a low voice. you finally met his honey eyes.

“i thought you weren’t coming this week.” you replied hoarsely, eyes never leaving his.

charles hummed, slowly moving the hand that was spread on your stomach traveling up your torso, fingers teasingly brushing your breasts and stopping on your collarbones, “i wasn’t supposed to—” he applied slight pressure on the base of your neck.

your let out soft gasp and the hold on your jaw disappeared, charles’ hand on your neck bringing you colder face closer to his face, “but i was going crazy without you by my side.” he whispered, noses brushing softly with a feathery touch.

‘are you watching carlos?’ he thought, almost wanting to turn around to see if the spaniard had his eyes on them. however, with the beauty in front of him, it was almost impossible to look away. he wanted you to know you had his full attention.

you gave yourself a mental slap, pulling out of the state of hypnosis you always found yourself in whenever his hands were on your body, “you know..” you started, seductive voice dripping with longing. and craving. and lust.

your hand found his, still holding onto your neck. you put your hand on top of his, slowly sliding it back down your body. slow. slow. slow.

“everyone’s talking bout you. the hometown hero,” their fingers travelled back down through the middle of your breasts, “the town’s heartthrob.”

charles chuckled, “what about it, baby? are you jealous?” he smirked, a smug look on his face.

you breathed out a small laugh and smiled teasingly, “maybe,” you directed their hands to go lower and lower, reaching past your lower belly and going down your upper thigh. charles’ fingers dug into the material of your skirt, bunching it up on his fist, “actually, sometimes i do,”

“—but then i remember those girls have never and will never be fucked by you.” charles’ jaw clenched, eyes darkening and never leaving your mischievous ones. you smirked at his reaction, once again grabbing his hand and this time leading it up. towards your center.

“sadly,” you pouted, “they’ll never know how you fuck as good as you drive.”

charles let out a breath, resisting the urge to press his mouth into yours and fuck you right there. as much as they didn’t care that they were in public, your brother was a few meters away and they couldn’t risk it. although charles wondered if that would make carlos take the hint.

with her hand still on top of his, charles roughly cupped your pussy. you could help but let out a moan, finally breaking eye contact and throwing your head back on his hard shoulder.

“it seems like a week without my cock made you turn into a brat.” charles growled. you felt your body on fire, legs tingling as his finger pressed harder into your cunt through your panties, wetness seeping through the thin material, “how cute.” he chuckled darkly. your own fingers tightened on top of his as he applied more pressure and started rubbing into circles.

“fuck” you whined softly. charles pressed your bodies closer together, making you feel his hard cock poking through his pants and onto your short skirt.

“it seems like i’ll have to fuck the brattines out of you, mhm?” he asked with a smirk. he watched his sensitive baby desperately writhe and whine into his arm. you kept your fingers clutched to the hand that was rubbing your pussy, lips red from your own biting in an attempt to keep your moans down.

charles chuckled, fingers finally leaving your pussy and letting you take a breath, “i think we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t you think ma chérie?” his eyes sparkled with amusement. maybe even something more. but you were way too eager to kiss him to even think about the repercussions that that would bring.

you turned your body to face him and he gripped your waist in a possessive manner. you angled your head up and smiled at him. “we do.”

charles couldn’t see it since he was facing the other way, but you catched the jealous eyes of a certain spaniard. hands craving to touch you.

you moaned as your hands slammed on the mirror of the club’s bathroom, looking for anything to hold on to whilst charles had you bending over the sink counter. he held your waist in a bruisingly strong hold, finger digging into her skin whilst he roughly pounded into your with jagged breath.

“fuck baby,” he growled, lifting the skirt higher up your ass, watching as his cock disappeared inside of you, “such a tight fucking cunt. mérdé.” he said, slapping your ass repeatedly, making you moan louder and leave dark red imprints on your soft skin.

they hadn’t even bothered removing your skirt, eagerly taking the rest of their clothes off trying as much as possible to keep their lips together in a sloppy, desperate kiss, before he turned you around over the sink and buried inside you.

charles roughly grabbed your shoulders, making you stand upright and pressing his chest into your back. he slowed his pace, thrusting hard and deep. “holy fuuuck.” you said gasping for air, mouth and eyes wide as your eyebrows furrowed. your body was overwhelmed by pleasure.

he pulled your head back by your hair and spit on your open mouth before smashing your lips together in a bruisingly hard kiss, teeth clashing together.

he didn’t stop pounding as he pulled back from the kiss, “you’re such a beautiful baby, aren’t you? huh?” he grabbed your waist, before sliding his hands up and groping your tits. you mewled at the feeling, body feeling hypersensitive. “look at these beautiful tits. fuck, i have been think all week about them.”

he let his hand wander further down, completely intoxicated by you. he grabbed your hips once again, his thrusts becoming faster, “and then i come here and see this legs.” he slapped you thigh. “in the shortest fucking skirt ever. that was just for me, right sweetheart?”

you moaned, nodding desperately and thrusting your hips back to meet his cock. “yes baby. it’s all for you. only for you.” you whined, letting out a high pitched moan. charles kept thrusting into you, and with you head completely filled with immense pleasure, you didn’t hear the door opening. except charles did.

he smirked devilishly, locking eyes with the person looking at them with wide eyes before sliding his hand down the girl’s clit, “are you sure baby? or were you trying to impress someone else?” he kept pounding into you.

you shook your head fast with your eyes closed, moaning louder and as his hands rubbed rough circles on your clit. charles hummed, “i don’t believe you, you dirty girl.” he slapped your clit, making you jump at the impact.

carlos was really trying to kept the composure, but the bulge in his pants was difficult to ignore. he was desperate to pull his cock out.

“maybe you were trying to impress someone else. someone like my teammate.” he rubbed your clit harder, charles eyes not leaving carlos’ darkened ones. “someone like carlos.” you couldn’t help but clench at the thought, letting a loud moan. you mind hazy with desire and eyes closed as you imagined carlos’ hand around your throat.

charles laughed, “oh, you’d love that, would you? what a little whore.” he teased, “you’d love carlos fucking your mouth while a fuck your pussy, wouldn’t you? or maybe the other way around.”

you moaned back, eyes finally open catching your wrecked reflection in the mirror and, standing behind charles and you, was the most surprising sight you’d ever seen: you saw carlos shorts unbuckled while he fisted his very hard cock, darkened lustful eyes focused on your face. you bit your lip unashamedly.

charles noticed, smirking widely, “now baby, why don’t you show carlos just what a good girl you are, mhm?” he teased.

[the-void-writes]

78

Ooh, this one made me really happy so thank you 💖💖💖 I think I accidentally changed the context of the song by making it platonic, but the vibes of it are huge inspo lol. Also I can’t remember if I’ve posted this part of the story before, but I rewrote it a bit so that should be fine.

Freaks of Preston - Lost On You

Bluebrook Memorial was a large plot of garden tucked away in the furthest corner of Preston, right where the town blended into the forest. Originally, the memorial was just a plain cemetery, sectioned in half to accommodate Humans and Freaks to “keep the dead from rising,” or whatever the ridiculous rumor was at the time. Of course, as Preston started burying more Freaks than Humans, it was impossible to keep the plots separate. Landscapers took the opportunity to brighten the whole place up with rose bushes and ponds, so visiting Humans didn’t have to think about sharing the park.

They weren’t so concerned about it, though, after a certain death in Preston…

Will followed the stone trail through a tunnel of willows. The flowers in his hand still felt wet from their time in the market, freshly misted by the clerks. Lydia strolled behind him, burying her nose into her jacket like a makeshift mask.

“I swear,” she said, “the smell gets stronger each time we come here.”

“Makes sense,” Will said. “If the flowers weren’t here, you’d be smelling something else.”

“Right, gross.” She shook her head. “Still, you’d think they’d choose something more pleasant.”

“I think you’re the only person I know who hates the smell of flowers.”

“I like real flowers, not whatever these things are. They’ve got chemicals and stuff.”

“Well, it can’t smell any worse than that raccoon Maddie brought home yesterday.”

“You thought that was a raccoon? With that skinny little tail? That was a possum.”

Will shook his head. “It’s not the same head shape.”

“What, you think Maddie took the time to shave a raccoon’s tail before taking it home?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Lydia sighed and ran a hand through her tangled orange hair. “I still say possum.”

“Suit yourself,” Will said with a shrug.

“Really, you’re just giving up?”

“I don’t feel like arguing with someone who thinks the sun is smaller than Earth.”

Lydia glared at him. “Hey, I was young. I understand now.”

Will couldn’t help but smile. “You do?”

“It’s just the distance that makes it small.” She posed triumphantly. “So technically, it’s the same size as the moon.”

He laughed and walked ahead of her. Lydia chased after him.

“Take their pictures, they’re the same size!”

The siblings took a turn past a cozy little garden of succulents. At the end of the path, under the overgrown moss of a giant tree, sat the grave they were looking for. The busy sounds of Preston were almost nonexistent in this corner of the park, blocked off by unruly clusters of ivy and thorns. It was a beautiful location, but Will always felt his chest tighten whenever he neared it, like he was caught in a vice.

In the last few years, he had visited the grave many times, a vast improvement from the whole days he spent when they first laid down the body six years ago. As a child, Will had even slept beside the grave, in the crook of the tree’s roots that surrounded him like large bird wings.

Will stopped, placed his flowers in the special vase, and read the stone marker.

Jason Theodore Rhodes

August 27 1974 - June 2 2007

Always and Forever

It was a nice headstone, all smooth and polished, though Will was still upset about the name. He and Henry had fought so hard to make it “Jason Prescott,” but the engravers insisted on using his legal name, regardless of the fact that he was disowned by his parents. For people who wanted nothing to do with him, they refused to let anyone else have the final say in his funeral arrangements. They wouldn’t even believe he was a godfather, at first, until Mary straightened them out. Their compromise was to let Will choose the epitaph, the one part that his parents didn’t care about. Always and forever… It seemed like a joke now, but he valued those words deeply.

Lydia patted the stone softly. “Hey, Jason. We miss you.”

Will took a deep breath. He had done this dozens of times, but that didn’t stop the tears that threatened to run down his face. Lydia smiled at him.

“I’ll be over there,” she said. “Take your time.”

“Thank you.”

She walked back down the path, leaving Will with the headstone of his dearest friend. The clouds felt dark over his head as he stood over the spot. Gloomy weather, Jason would have called it, the perfect time to be sad. Even the birds were in mourning around him. Their chirps were akin to someone in hysterics— laughter turning into sobs, back and forth until they finally fell silent.

Will let himself speak, his voice unable to move past a whisper.

“We’ve started choosing our classes for next year. One of our science teachers is offering astronomy. You’d be so jealous.”

He chuckled to himself, already blinking back tears.

“Henry and I found a recipe for mint chocolate cake. I still don’t know if it’s the icing or the cake that’s mint.” He shrugged. “Thought it would be nice for your birthday.”

Will reached out and brushed some dirt off of the headstone. His hand lingered against it, as though it would disappear the minute he moved away.

“You were the best father in the whole world, Jace. I just wish we had more time… I’m so sorry.”

He could see Jason in his mind, smiling softly, telling him to cheer up. Not in the condescending way that most adults said it, but in the kind and sincere way that only he seemed capable of. Will let his hand fall to his side, and he walked back over to Lydia, who was eagerly watching a ladybug.

“All good?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

She stood up and swung her arm around his shoulder. “You’re doing better, you know. We’re all proud of you… and he would be, too.”

“Thanks, Lyds.”

“Come on, let’s go grab Maddie and head home. She’ll prove that I’m right about the sun.”

Will smiled weakly. “Whatever you say.”

He let her drag him back down the path into town, listening patiently as she continued to explain how she was right. She was as goofy as she had been all those years ago, but Will was just happy to still have her in his life. He prayed that he wouldn’t lose her— or the rest of their family— the same way he lost Jason.

[master-of-stringz]

Miss You.

i have a lot of these persona 3 one-shot thingies prepared to post. this is cringe i know, but hey. i think its cool. this one's short, but i think it ain't bad. i think--

any feedback is appreciated!

Some Context: This would be set around the end of 2010, maybe 2011. Makoto/Protag-kun is dead and gone; and some people still think about him... almost daily.

Takeba was sleeping well at her dorm. That day was a simple one, like most had been since *that* night. Go to school, go along with the day; maybe chat a bit with some of her classmates, get annoyed by Junpei’s shennanigans; the usual. It wasn’t night-time yet, but the sun was slowly but surely going down.

Lately, she had noticed a feeling of… emptiness? Like, 2009 was for sure a crazy year, and a lot of the time it was also a REALLY hard one. But there were so many things that pumped her up back then… The thrill of fighting shadows, the power she could feel channeling through her veins; the will to protect the others and the world. The will to stay by his side… She truly misses those moments. Today may be a better time for the world, but her heart has a big hole that has yet to be filled up.

Yukari dreams, deeply. She has had many dreams since Nyx, and always remembers to write them down every morning. Mostly for herself, but sometimes she may find the time to share these with Mitsuru or someone else. There is some running “themes” with her dreams. She sees her Father a lot in there; but that only brings her joy. As a sweet reminder of what they all accomplished, you could say. She also sometimes has nightmares with things such as the Nyx Avatar, or the Magician’s Shadow that attacked them so long ago. But, most of the time; she dreams… about him.

The man that changed their lives. The man, who they themselves also changed. That boy who gave them hope in his own gloomy and sarcasctic ways… She recalls even calling him “Mr. Perfect”, and God; that is just so funny now.

But well. She sees him. On this weird, subconcious, some may say cognitive space. He’s there. As always, doesn’t really talk too much. But just seeing his smile and “talking” with him is enough for her. She clearly doesn’t know how any of this really works, but she does know for a fact that those dreams are… long. She just, keeps on talking. Sometimes resting on his lap or his shoulder, sometimes resting in bed… She just tells him how everything’s been going. Updates him on school, how their Senpais are doing on college; on how much cornier Junpei has got, or how Ken is doing on middle school.

One day, though; she opens up more than usual.

--“You know…”--. Yukari was sitting on a bench with Makoto, at what looked like a beautiful garden. –“You’re probably not the real one, for all I know. But talking here… knowing where I’m at and still getting to stay here, with you… It’s so comforting.”--. Makoto had a smile on his face, and he posed his head on Takeba’s shoulder. –“God dammit, Yuki. You could at least try to say something… You’re making me nervous, douche.”--. She said, getting redder by the second. She took a deep breath… --“Ah… I’ve already told you this, but seriously… we miss you. I miss you. I swear, that… someday, we’ll find a way. We… I… I will see you again. In person, like it should be. I know Yuki is not hearing this, but i need to get it out of my system. Again…”--. A little tear streamed down her cheek. The Fool’s thumb cleaned it off her face, with the usual look of no emotion that he had in the real world… but with those blue eyes, full of hope that she remembered so well. –“I know you’d call me stupid for saying this. But I really do… need you, down there. Everything is so much… dull, and boring; without you. It’s been a long time already, and I only feel worse every month.”--. She had a sad expresion on her face, looking at the flowers around them. –“Kind of ironic that of all things, it’d be a lack of YOU that would make everything boring, huh?”--. She had a melancholic smile on as she spoke. –“I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t still be grieving like this. I’m such a dumb idiot for indulging in stuff like this…”--. The “dream” Makoto stood up a little bit, approaching Yukari’s ear with his lips. He, for once; spit out some words. –“Everything is going to be alright… just, live. Be happy, I know you can.”--. That was followed by a kiss on the cheek, one that wasn’t normal to see from the boy she knew. Still, she shortly gasped on surprise. It was not often that this “dream” partner of hers spoke. The poor girl didn’t know how to respond. The boy grabbed her hand, holding it tightly… to then, just calmly fall asleep on her lap.

It rememberd her of the moment they… “found” him. When they noticed he wasn’t breathing… when they noticed he didn’t have any pulse, when his heart suddenly stopped. She remembered the feelings that coursed through her brain. The anguish, sadness, the anger. She even blamed him, Aigis; herself… It felt like her Dad, all over again; but even worse. But this time… it was weird. Weird because, even if he was replicating that grim moment… she felt happy. She felt serene, with herself and with the world. It was like his words and actions were still helping her through everything, even from beyond the grave.

--“You’re good at making a girl feel special. Have I ever told you that?”--. She said, playing with Yuki’s hair. –“I love you, dork.”--. She mumbled to herself, falling asleep in the dream itself; waking up on her bed.

--“I will always love you, too…”--. An angelic voice echoed through space, unhearable for any human on earth. –“Take good care of everyone… I rest my trust on you.”--.

[xurory]

DARLING

"the first time i learned real world super-powers live in three words, they revitalize my fraying bones."

OR

how hsr men love youuu !

pairings. dan heng, blade, aventurine x fem! reader (separate)

cc. modern-ish au w/ dan heng . not proofread so lmk for errors . fluff . kinda rushed

DAN HENG has never been the one to be good with expressing his love through the use of words. so instead, he shows how much he cares for you over actions.

he knows you know that for every time he goes silent after telling him you love him and then pulling his closer to him, that was his way of saying i love you more but through the way his actions suddenly shifts.

your lover is aware that you do not always need to be reassured that he loves you and all that, but whenever he's extra clingy during your alone time with him, you knew this was another one of his way of saying that he missed you, and he loves you dearly.

though, of course, there would be times where he feels the need to return your sweet words, not with actions — but with his own voice.

"baby?" you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder as you heard him hum back in response. "i love you so much. i appreciate you for staying."

he went silent for a good minute. and truthfully, you didn't really bother to think about it too much.

as long as he was there with you, alive and breathing, you were okay.

the two of you watched the sun melt from the beach, admiring the pretty orange and pink hues that painted the sky. the sound of the ocean waves sounded like the peaceful life you've always been craving for.

"i love you too." more than you know.

his words surprised you, in a good way. it felt so good hearing his voice, it's like the sound of your lover was the only way to cure the entirety of the pain you had.

a huge smile grew on your lips, dan heng slightly glanced to his side to see your gorgeous smile, earning a small one from him.

what a beautiful moment this was.

BLADE isn't a man of many words, just like dan heng, he relies on acts of service. wether it's putting your hair up with his hand while you eat your food, opening doors and pulling out chairs for you, or putting his hand on every corner you are near to whenever you crouch down to get something.

and you appreciated every one of them.

you cherished the way he'd always have something up his sleeve to make you feel cared about.

and maybe sometimes you can't help the feeling of wanting a verbal partner that constantly reassures you through literal words, but that idea of yours get shot down immediately just by how your man looks at you.

if his gaze could be compared to daggers threatening to stab their eye to others, then for you, the look in his eyes showed nothing but softness. all for you.

he lets you do stuff to him, no matter how silly it is. wether it be styling his hair into cute hairstyles or making him try different hand poses whenever you want to take a selfie with him. (it takes a lot to actually convince him to do these)

early into the relationship, it's common that he would have a hard time expressing himself. but further into it, he'd grow to be more comfortable around you.

he lets you see every part of him (👀) because he trusts you with his entire heart. he shares everything you want to know, his past? every detail.

it continues to be hard for blade to be affectionate, he's not that type of person. but if it's you, he's willing to make an exception.

you silently laid on your bed, feeling awful to the core. until you felt the opposite side of your bed sink with the weight of someone. making you sit up.

"blade.. i swear to the aeons i will kill myself tonight if this goddamn headache doesn't go away." you groaned, scratching the side of your head.

"sure you will." blade replied, making you roll your eyes. he laid back in the bed, pulling you on the waist with him. "im not kidding, it hurts."

your lover grunts, reluctantly sitting up and welcoming you in his arms without a word as the side of your head pressed against his chest. "it'll pass. did you even take the medicine kafka gave you earlier?" you nod.

he continuously caressed your head, making you fall into slumber under his gentle touch. ah, he was a completely different person behind closed doors with you.

the softest snores were soon heard, with your beloved guarding over you as he planted a small kiss on the top of your head for his own comfort.

and it felt nice, you know, to not have to pretend.

AVENTURINE loves you like there's no tomorrow. i said what i said. this man would be HEAD OVER HEELS for you!! whenever you flirt with him, he'd be right up your ass. one simple i love you from you makes him crazy and all over you the rest of the day.

but in all seriousness, he doesn't limit himself with what he gives you.

he'd return every gesture of yours knowing it means so much to you whenever he does so. and he, your lover, wants nothing else but to be enough for you.

the first thing he does every morning if obviously admire you, duh. he just loves the way you look absolutely gorgeous under the sunlight even though he knows you'd be complaining once you wake up because he didn't close the curtains.

AND he loves doing things for you! like heck yeah he could buy you flour that you needed to bake. he wants you to know that during your times of need, you could always count on him.

"honeeyyy! could you help me here please!" you yelled from the kitchen, alerting the blonde man who was up in your shared bedroom doing his own thing, now rushing downstairs.

he instantly sees you by the counter, prepping your freshly made cupcakes that earned a grin from him. "that f'me?" he asks, appearing behind you as his arms snaked around your waist.

you turned around with a cupcake and your hand and a sweet smile that could light up his entire day. offering your boyfriend to bite one as he did so with a pleasant look on his face that you could easily tell you rocked that cupcake.

"like it?" you ask.

"i love it."

with that, a grin appeared on your lips.

and then, he kissed you. roughly but tenderly. he still had some icing on the corner of his mouth but who cared! this was his way of saying he LOVED whatever you baked for him.

he appreciated you, so much.

likes & reblogs are vv appreciated, mwah! 🍓

[feza-errata]

Episode 9: I Think Covert Ops Are Supposed To Be Stealthier Than This…

Open to RAIKO taking a casual stroll down the street, doing that reclining elbows-up pose protagonists love to do in anime

RAIKO: Ahhh, it feels nice to get out of the house every now and then! Man, I’ve spent so much of my life here, it’s hard to think that I’ve never been able to just walk around the city on my own until now…

Her relaxed tone shifts to contemplation

RAIKO: Geez, they kept me locked up in that joint for how long? And when I finally did get out, I got locked away somewhere else.

Then it shifts into frustration

RAIKO: Still can’t believe those bastards threw me under the bus like that! I swear, they only kept me around for my ability!

And then sorrow

RAIKO: Maybe that’s just the way it is. I mean, even the crew I’m running with now only brought me along because I seemed “useful”. Hell, the only one who even bothered to hear me out was Mizuro…

And then she tries to circle back into relaxation

RAIKO: Oh well, no point in dwelling on it now. Guess I just gotta deal with it…

But falls back to frustration instead

RAIKO: But why me? Why am I the one who has to deal with this?! Everyone else gets to go on walks, see the sun, feel the wind! How come I can only do that stuff now?!… Am I still trapped?

RAIKO hears a voice come from behind her to answer her question and stands there in shock when it says…

VIKTOR(smug): Nah, you’re free as a bird right now, but I'm sure we can still find a decent cage for you!

RAIKO quickly turns around to see who it is, but becomes even more alert when she realizes that no one is there. Then she hears him from behind her again

VIKTOR: Oh, but don’t worry about staying with us for too long though! Once we’ve confiscated your power you’ll be free to go again!

Tension rising, RAIKO looks around frantically trying to find the source of the voice, and then she looks up to see a man in a trench coat sitting above her on the roof of the building, dangling his right foot without a care in the world

RAIKO: Who the hell are you?!

VIKTOR: That’s not important right now. Instead of worrying about who I am or why I’m here…

VIKTOR jumps down from atop the building and lands right in front of RAIKO. When he pops back up from his landing position he leans in closer with a menacing grin on his face, unsettling her a bit

VIKTOR: you should be worrying about how you’re gonna beat me.

Cue intro

RAIKO takes action, stepping back and then going in for a right hook. VIKTOR dodges her first attack and effortlessly catches both of her subsequent attacks, which are left and right hooks respectively. RAIKO tries to shake loose, but VIKTOR’s grip is too strong

VIKTOR(still smug): Woah! Hey! Calm down! Why don’t we just talk this out like civilized adults? I’d rather not have to hit a lady.

RAIKO: Get the hell off me, CREEP!

RAIKO releases a sudden burst of electricity to repel VIKTOR, but he stands there unphased by it as if it had simply bounced right off of him

RAIKO: What the-?!

VIKTOR: Surprised?

RAIKO tries once again to blast him away, this time using a far more potent attack, but once again VIKTOR just tanks it like it was nothing

VIKTOR: We’ve got all your info in the database, Raiko Akemi, so coming up with a countermeasure for your power was child’s play! A drug that gives my skin partial rubber-like properties is more than enough to completely nullify your ability!

VIKTOR pulls RAIKO into a headlock; his left arm holding both of her arms behind her back and his right arm wrapped around her neck

RAIKO: Ahg- what is this bullshit!?

VIKTOR: Now now, no need to get upset! Look, I’m just here to capture you and your new friends is all, but let me tell you something; if you get sent back to P.Corp, they’ll rip your power from you. Y’know, the “one thing that makes you useful”? The “only reason they brought you along”?

RAIKO: What the fuck!? How long were you listening to me?! There’s no way that shit’s legal- you can’t do that!

VIKTOR: You forget one thing, Ms. Akemi; you’re a wanted criminal! The law doesn’t care about you! You can cry all you want, but no one’s gonna help you out here.

RAIKO tries to call for help, but as soon as she opens her mouth VIKTOR morphs one of the metal finger guards he’s wearing into a steel muzzle to cover it. RAIKO struggles to get loose, but VIKTOR’s hold is too tight

VIKTOR: Y’know, I understand where you’re coming from. I also sometimes feel like those around me only see me as an asset. A tool. Something they can use however they see fit and put away when they’re done. So how about we make a deal? You tell me everything you know about the other three you escaped with, and I’ll see what I can do about the whole “power stealing” thing, okay? Maybe we could get you a job a P.Corp instead, eh? You’d make a pretty good guaaaard~! We need another one anyways after what you guys did to Zach.

VIKTOR reshapes the muzzle into a finger guard to let RAIKO speak again

RAIKO: You’re fucking crazy if you really think I’d sell them out just to keep my powers! There’s no way in hell I’d put them through that!

VIKTOR: Oh don’t worry, their powers are safe. We just wanna study them is all! We’ll run some tests on them, do a couple of experiments, maybe open them up a bit, but at the end of the day, they’ll be fine! The only one who stands to lose something here… is you.

RAIKO thinks about her options for a bit, reconsidering her current values. Should she really be looking out for these people? She’s only known them for about a week or two. They only brought her along for her power. Topping it all off, KASAI’s constant presence is pretty annoying too

RAIKO: Well, if that’s how it is, then…

Cut to YANZO chilling on the rooftop of HEMAL’s Facility, drinking some apple juice, when suddenly the bright and sunny sky is blocked out by massive dark clouds. An ENORMOUS lightning bolt strikes the middle of the city, and a startled YANZO spits out his apple juice while scrambling down the stairs as rain starts to pour down from the clouds. Cut back to RAIKO and VIKTOR with smoke rising off both of their bodies, RAIKO still trying to break free from VIKTOR’s grip

VIKTOR: Still trying to fight, huh? Nah, I get it, loyal to the end! I’m the same way! Guess we’ll just have to torture the information out of you instead. Didn’t want it to come to this, but you leave me no choice.

VIKTOR starts reforming his finger guards into multiple sharp objects which he then begins to tauntingly flourish in front of RAIKO’s face

VIKTOR: Last chance, little birdie! Sing for me…

VIKTOR slowly glides one of the morphed finger guards down RAIKO’s face, letting a drop of blood escape her cheek

VIKTOR: …or I’ll make you cry.

KASAI: Little birdie? I dunno, she seems more like a shark to me.

VIKTOR: Huh?

VIKTOR turns around to see KASAI, MIZURO, and YANZO standing there, ready to fight. He grabs a nearby pole and reforms it into three large metal bands that forcefully bind RAIKO to a nearby wall

VIKTOR: Well what a surprise, you brought them all to me! Of course! That wasn’t an attack, it was a beacon! Man, this makes my job so much easier!

MIZURO: Who the hell are you?

VIKTOR: Well, seeing as we’re all here and I’m about to take you in anyway, I might as well introduce myself! My name is Viktor Raizen, and I’m here to put you back where you belong.

YANZO: “Back where we belong”? You wanna rephrase that?

VIKTOR: I know what I said!

RAIKO: Can you guys cut the chit-chat and beat him already?

KASAI: On it!

KASAI dashes in while heating up his hand, intent on delivering a burning blow to VIKTOR’s face, but VIKTOR ducks under the punch and delivers one of his own to KASAI’s gut. VIKTOR’s hand stays there for a moment before his finger guard suddenly extends into a long metal pole, launching KASAI back and further injuring his gut. KASAI stumbles back a bit while clenching his stomach before steadying himself between MIZURO and YANZO

VIKTOR(smug): Careful! You shouldn’t just blindly rush into a fight against someone you don’t know anything about! If I wanted to, I could’ve ended you right there!

KASAI(through gritted teeth): Oh yeah? Try me.

KASAI nods to MIZURO and YANZO, and they nod back. MIZURO starts gathering as much of the water in the area as he can into a pressurized ball, and YANZO quickly forms some hardwood armor for protection as he and KASAI both rush VIKTOR at the same time. YANZO reaches VIKTOR first and goes for a left jab to his face, but VIKTOR simply places his hand on the torso section of YANZO’s armor and makes it form a wooden fist that hits YANZO square in the jaw.

He tosses YANZO behind him as he refocuses on KASAI, who’s starting to understand how VIKTOR’s power works. Just before he reaches VIKTOR, KASAI tosses a fireball at his left foot to distract him, but VIKTOR counters KASAI’s move by kicking him in the chest with the foot he was aiming for. VIKTOR then swings his pole and lands a clean hit to KASAI’s face, forcing him back once again

KASAI(thinking): Shit, this guy’s good. His reactions are honed to a T, there’s no way to get through!

KOAL: You’re holding back.

KASAI(thinking): What?! No I’m not! Why would I hold back here?! He’s got Raiko hostage!

KOAL: You won’t win like this. Why not do what we did last time?

KASAI(thinking): NO! WE ARE NEVER DOING THAT AGAIN! HEROES DON’T KILL!

KOAL: Then we are doomed to fail. He moves too fast for us to dodge his attacks normally, and the rainfall would put you out in an instant if you were to flame morph. It was nice knowing you, Kasai.

KASAI(thinking): No, I’ll find another way.

YANZO: KASAI, MOVE!

KASAI, bewildered by YANZO’s shouting, looks around and notices that while YANZO was on the ground he gathered enough vines to grip VIKTOR’s legs and hold him in place. He ducks out of the way as MIZURO unleashes a heavy torrent of water on VIKTOR, who cuts through the vines quick enough to just barely evade the stream as he turns to face YANZO

YANZO: Damn it!

VIKTOR: Clever thinking, but not clever enough I’m afraid!

VIKTOR goes for a left kick to YANZO’s face, but YANZO grows a tree underneath himself in an instant, dodging VIKTOR’s kick and causing him to full force slam his shin into the tree

VIKTOR: Ah! Shit!

VIKTOR’s kick leaves a sizable indentation on the tree, but also seriously hurts his shin. MIZURO forgoes the long-range combat idea and shifts into mid-range, forming a sort of water whip in his left hand and stepping forward

MIZURO: (to KASAI) Stay on the offensive, I’ll cover you.

KASAI: Got it!

VIKTOR quickly turns to see KASAI and MIZURO approaching, then firmly grasps a section of the tree. He reforms part of the tree into a decent-sized club and separates it from the tree, then he chucks it at KASAI and kicks the tree in the vacant spot where he had formed the club from, causing it to snap and fall. MIZURO cracks the club out of the air with his water whip and keeps going. VIKTOR gets out of the way of the tree as it topples over; bringing YANZO, who lands right in front of MIZURO and KASAI, down with it. Stopped by the fell lumber, they help YANZO up as VIKTOR takes a moment to stretch a bit

VIKTOR: Y’know, you guys are pretty tricky, but you’re way out of your league here. Look, we could end all of this right now if you would all just hand yourself over to P.Corp, okay?

KASAI: Fuck that!

YANZO: Wait, P.Corp? Those are guys who captured us?

VIKTOR: Oh, you didn’t know? I assumed you were well aware of exactly who you’re dealing with.

YANZO: No, that doesn’t make sense. P.Corp doesn’t just take in anyone who gains a power, they capture criminals! Why the hell did you guys take US in?

MIZURO: Well I can’t speak for the two of you, but I know I’ve never committed a crime in my life!

KASAI: I haven’t done anything either!… Well, nothing that they would know about anyway!

VIKTOR: Huh, guess that IS kind of odd. Oh well, my job is to capture you, not to question the word of our CEO.

KASAI(thinking): Tch, this is getting us nowhere! What do we do?!

KOAL: You could always stop holding ba-//

MIZURO: I’ll handle it from here.

MIZURO steps in front of KASAI and YANZO, brandishing his water-whip. KASAI and YANZO both look at MIZURO, then nod to each other and back off

MIZURO: He’s an excellent fighter and a quick thinker, but in this weather, I have the advantage. You two just stand back, that way I can focus on taking him out.

YANZO: You got it.

KASAI: Give him hell, Zamu!

RAIKO: Be quick, the rain’s gonna clear up soon!

VIKTOR: Ah, a classic, one-on-one fight! Now THIS is getting me excited! Alright, chosen champion, show me what you’ve got!

MIZURO: Huh, I guess this could be likened to a champion fight! In that case, I’ll make a special note of this duel in particular.

MIZURO flourishes his water whip while he speaks, pulling it taut as he finishes

MIZURO: Help me see what a proud warrior getting his shit kicked in looks like, would you?

A cheeky grin stretches across VIKTOR’s face

VIKTOR: If you insist, water boy!

And his respirator mask suddenly closes

VIKTOR reforms part of the toppled tree into a baseball bat, and then he reforms some of his finger guards into a studded metal covering for the bat. VIKTOR does a fight-provoking gesture to MIZURO with the bat, and MIZURO readies his whip. There’s tension in the air as both warriors stand there for a moment, reading each other.

MIZURO makes the first move, cracking the whip to the ground and kicking into the air as he approaches VIKTOR, spinning viciously with the whip. VIKTOR uses his bat to guard against the whip, which then grabs his bat and attempts to rip it out of his hand. VIKTOR quickly morphs one of his remaining finger guards into a covering for both his hand and the bat’s handle, making it impossible for MIZURO to get the bat out of his hand. VIKTOR pulls back on the bat, bringing MIZURO towards him. He swings it at MIZURO’s head, but MIZURO just barely dodges the swing. 

VIKTOR quickly brings the bat over his head, but when he tries to slam it down on MIZURO he manages to catch the bat with both hands. With his free hand, VIKTOR goes for a palm strike to MIZURO’s chest, but MIZURO blasts VIKTOR away with a high-pressure burst of water from his mouth.

As VIKTOR stumbles back, MIZURO quickly pulls a small wave of water from underneath VIKTOR’s feet, causing him to fall over. MIZURO then encases his fist in water to add extra weight to it and goes to land a knockout blow to VIKTOR while he’s down, but VIKTOR rolls out of the way in the opposite direction of RAIKO, who notices that he has started to make some distance between them. In one swift motion, VIKTOR rises from the ground

RAIKO(Thinking): This whole fight he’s been sticking near me to make sure the others don’t go for anything extreme, but now he’s trying to get away! Wait, then that means-

RAIKO: Hey, Mizuro! I think his drug wore off! Get him over here so I can zap his sorry ass!

KASAI: You ever try NOT blurting out your plans!?

RAIKO: Shut it, brightburn! C’mon Mizuro, we got this!

VIKTOR: Oh yeah!? Let's see you try!

VIKTOR holds the bat out to his side and reforms it once more. The bat becomes thinner and longer as the metal studs and pieces gather at the top and form a curved blade. Once fully formed, VIKTOR flourishes his new scythe a bit before reentering his battle stance

VIKTOR: From the intel we gathered, we were able to piece together that you guys have a sort of revival technique. We also concluded that they’re most likely tied to the powers you got from that space rock; otherwise, Hot-Head over there wouldn’t even be here! With that being said, I think it’s about time I stop holding back!

YANZO: Careful Mizuro, he means business now! You can’t give him any leeway, otherwise, you’re dead!

MIZURO: Tell me something I don’t know!

Recreating his water whip in his left hand, MIZURO gathers and condenses some water into the fingertips of his right hand, loading high-pressure ranged attacks into each one. Just as VIKTOR did, MIZURO also flourishes his weapon and gets ready to fight one last time, determination burning in his eyes

MIZURO: I’m ending this fight, right here, right now!

Cue outro

To Be Continued…

[leejungchans]

scored! : l.c

word count | 12.4k (SORRY idk why i do this to myself either)

pairing | lee chan (svt) x female reader

warning(s) / includes | swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, food mentions (lmk if i missed anything!!)

genre | fluff, humour, university au, enemies-to-lovers au

notes | uh i don’t really know how game season works bc it’s not really a thing in unis here (?) so ;-; please forgive me for any (inevitable) inaccuracies hghhghe also this is my first time making a moving banner so shhh just ignore how bad it is gwhsha

summary: lee chan should really stop winning so many games for your university, because as the resident writer for the sports column of the student newsletter, you’re starting to get really sick of having to cross paths with him all the time.

a/n: happy birthday to my boyfriend (/j) chan who’s also a loser (affectionate ig) bc he never pays rent for living in my head 🙄💗 also just thought everyone should see this clip that kinda inspired this whole fic okay bye—

WEEK NINE.

You love writing for your university’s student newsletter, you really do; you just hate the person you have to write about.

“Stupid Lee Chan and his stupid wins,” you grumble, stomping across the football field with your notebook grasped tightly in your hold. Seungkwan kindly got you one with a hard cover for the new school year, because he will never forget that particular afternoon last year when you stormed into Wonwoo’s office and slammed down a crumpled sheet of recycled paper onto his hardwood desk, with LEE CHAN’S STUPID INTERVIEW #4 messily scrawled across the top of the page.

Something about the look on your face that day told Seungkwan you didn’t particularly care if Chan saw the title, written in all caps with a black marker. Hell, you probably wanted him to see.

Thus entered the hard-cover notebook so no other innocent sheet of paper would have to meet its unfortunate demise at the hands of your never-ending feud with the star player.

“Well,” Mingyu begins, easily catching up to you thanks to his long legs, “they don’t call him the ace of the team for no reason, you gotta admit that those goals he scored at the game were pretty awesome. Redstone U stood no chance.”

You hate everything about the soccer field; the dirt that gets trapped between the grooves of your soles, the occasional rogue ball that comes whipping at your head at light speed, the jock who’s currently waiting for you at the bleachers…

“Yeah, he’s a good player, I guess. But I think he let all the attention get to his head.” You lift your free hand to shield your face from the late afternoon sun, beads of sweat already forming along your hairline. Damn you for always forgetting to apply sunscreen before heading to the field, Minghao will have your head when he finds out. “Every time he poses for you while you take his photos, I just want to throw up.”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Mingyu singsongs, “people don’t throw themselves at him for no reason either. Plus, I think that blonde hair he has going on right now suits him really well.”

Your lips purse together as you swallow down a bitter remark about how you absolutely do not find Lee Chan attractive, especially not with the new hair colour he got done over the summer. Who cares that a compliment from Kim Mingyu, most-eligible-bachelor-on-campus extraordinaire, means you’re undeniably hot with a capital ‘H’ and the trademark symbol? Certainly not you.

“Whatever,” you mutter, annoyance rising upon spying the bane of your existence in the third row, seventh seat from the left, “let’s just get this over with.” You don’t notice the smile that creeps its way onto your photographer friend’s face as he trails behind you, amusedly observing the way you stomp over to Chan.

“Glad you finally showed up, Y/N,” Chan says with that insufferable smirk of his, “you can never get enough of me, huh? Who knew you’d still be writing for the sports column despite claiming to hate my guts.”

“Because I actually enjoy writing about the other athletes at Pledis U who don’t walk around acting like people worship the ground they walk on.”

Chan places a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “You really know how to hurt a man, don’t you?”

“Only if it's you.”

“Aw, I didn’t know I was that special to you.” He has the audacity to lean in, his cocky grin unwavering as the afternoon sun accentuates all the sharp angles of his face. “You find me irresistible, Y/N, admit it.”

Mingyu, sensing you’re only minutes away from bursting a blood vessel, graciously cuts in. He’s always been on friendly terms with Chan, anyways. “No practice today?” he asks, nodding towards the athlete’s casual wear as opposed to the team uniform he usually dons whenever he’s on the field.

“Nah, Coach gave us a few days off. If this is your way of asking me to hang out, I guess I can make some time for you guys, especially for Little Miss Reporter over here.”

“No thanks,” you snap, “I see enough of your face already, and the same goes for Mingyu since he has to edit your stupid photos for the column all the time.”

“Suit yourselves. So… the interview?”

You really should’ve known that Lee Chan would never make your job easy, because you’re only at your third question when he lets out a scornful chuckle.

Your eyes narrow as your hand subconsciously tightens around your pen. “What now?”

The boy leans back on his hands, still watching you with that shit-eating grin on his face. “You ask the same questions every time, it’s kinda boring, don’t you think?”

“And you give the same answers each interview, but you don’t hear me complaining,” you shoot back, “it’s not my fault that people want to read these things about you.”

It’s true. For one of his interviews last year, you decided to mix the questions up a bit just so you could get a change of scenery, only to later have people come up to you in lectures asking why you left out the riveting part about Lee Chan’s workout routine.

You almost screamed, and after that Minghao started getting you to meditate with him.

“Ah, I see... Well then, please continue. Wouldn’t want to disappoint my fans.”

“I don’t know how you can still stand up straight with that huge head of yours.”

“I was just joking. You’re cute when you’re all grumpy like this, by the way.”

“I have a pen in my hand, Lee Chan, I would try being less infuriating if I were you.”

The smirk that tugs at his pretty pink lips burns your insides with anger, a clear sign that he did not find you threatening in the slightest. “See? Cute.”

Unfortunately, your woes don’t end with the interview. Having Kim Mingyu as the newsletter’s photographer is a double-edged sword, because while his photos always come out looking like he plucked them from some high fashion magazine, his need for perfection also meant that you have to sit through 20 minutes of Lee Chan’s posing.

So you settle for doodling flowers in the margins of your notebook while you wait on the bleachers, hoping it will make you appear occupied while keeping the temptation to watch at bay.

“It’s a little hot, do you mind if I lose the jacket?”

“Sure. Wait! Drape it over your shoulder like thi—yeah, yeah, yeah, like that! Okay, hold still…”

Against your mind’s warning, your gaze tears away from the page to where Mingyu is currently taking Chan’s photos on the field, mentally slapping yourself for gawking at the way his white T-shirt clings to his figure.

Much to your embarrassment, your eyes meet when he looks away from the camera momentarily, and the ever-growing grin on his face tells you it’s far too late to avert your gaze and pretend you haven’t been staring.

“Like what you see?” you hear him call out.

“You wish!”

“I don’t blame you for looking!” Chan yells back, and it just makes you want to bury yourself in a hole before someone else can hear him. “Let me know if you want my shirt off too!”

“Fuck off!”

You want to take his denim jacket and fling it into the sun where it can burn like your extreme dislike for him. (“Hate’s a strong word, Y/N,” Minghao always says.) You also hate how Mingyu’s looking at you, like he’s trying very hard not to say something that will have you chasing him around whacking his head with your notebook.

Hm, maybe Seungkwan was right to get you one with a hard cover. You make a mental note to thank him later.

“You sure you didn’t want his shirt off?” Mingyu asks teasingly on your way back to campus.

“No, I did not.” It’s just the heat that’s making your cheeks burn. Just the heat.

“He’s totally into you.”

“He flirts with everything that walks on two legs. Plus, he was definitely doing it just to piss me off.”

“Whatever you say,” your friend hums, so engrossed in clicking through the photos he took that he would’ve walked right into a pillar if you hadn’t pulled on his sleeve to steer him away. “Anyways, these are some pretty cool shots, especially because of the sun! Ugh, I love golden hour. Wanna have a look?”

He wags his camera in your face, to which you gently push it away with a scowl. “Absolutely not. Now watch where you’re going.”

WEEK SIXTEEN.

“No.”

“But it’d be a fun team-building activity for all of us!” Despite putting on your sweetest smile, your editor doesn’t seem convinced.

“I know you’re just trying to get out of doing the sports column for a bit because the soccer team won another game,” Wonwoo reveals as he pushes his glasses up, “I know you don’t like Lee Chan, but he’s not all that bad. I’ve spoken to him before.”

“W-Well, he’s different with you guys than when he’s talking to me! Anyways, swapping columns would be so fun even if it’s just for a few issues! Like, imagine me taking over Michelin Shua!”

“‘Take over’?” Joshua whines, “Michelin Shua is doing just fine and you don’t know the nuances that come with it!”

“You go to restaurants outside campus and review their food! What nuances can there possibly be? Ugh, fine. What if I do Project Vernway?”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Vernon teases, pretending to check his nails like a haughty socialite, “Project Vernway is serious business.”

“You rate students’ outfits on whether or not they’re related to The Simpsons, Powerpuff Girls, or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!”

“Precisely. It’s a very serious business that requires someone with an eye for fashion to handle.”

You whirl round to face Seungkwan, the newsletter’s resident advice columnist who also happens to be your last hope. He’s always been the most sympathetic to your predicament with Lee Chan, the two having butted heads quite often from their time in elementary school.

He beats you to it before you can even present your case. “Sorry, Y/N. I love you, but I wouldn’t trust you with giving advice to anyone.”

“Rude!”

“Minghao told me you once almost fought a squirrel in the quad,” he deadpans.

“It hissed at me! Plus, he was the one who told me I needed to start asserting myself more!”

“I don’t think he meant doing it to a glorified rat with a bushy tail!”

Vernon gasps, utterly scandalised. “Hey! You crossed the line with that one!”

God, you need new friends. Like, right now.

“Aw, don’t look so down, Y/N,” Joshua coos, smiling brightly despite your obvious despair, “we all know you like him more than you let on.”

“Yeah, and don’t think I didn’t catch you looking through the photos I took for him from his last interview,” Mingyu chimes in, shooting you a pointed look from his desk in the corner of the room. He’d been so silent the entire meeting that you almost forgot he’s in the room with you all.

“I—I was doing quality control!”

“Liar,” Vernon coughs, quickly raising his hands in mock surrender when you swivel around to give him your best death glare. “Sorry, just a tickle in my throat.”

“Anyways, we’re not doing the column exchange,” Wonwoo concludes. The steely gaze he sends you through his wire-framed glasses tells you it’s not up for debate, hence effectively ending the conversation. “You’ll be fine, Y/N, the people like what you write for the sports column, and besides, this will probably be the last piece you write on Chan before winter break.”

A heavy sigh pushes out of your chest. “Fine.”

•••

It’s not fine.

mingyu 🐶 [15:23] okay don’t kill me but

mingyu 🐶 [15:23] sth came up with the photog club and i can’t come :(

y/n [16:01] WHAT

y/n [16:01] IM LITERALLY ALREADY AT THE BLEACHERS

y/n [16:01] I CANT DO THIS ALONE MINGYU PLEASE

mingyu 🐶 [16:03] YES YOU CAN!! I BELIEVE IN YOU!!!!

mingyu 🐶 [16:03] c’mon i’ll buy you ice cream later 🥺

y/n [16:03] ……..fine

“Your muse has arrived.”

You look up from your notepad with a scowl as Lee Chan walks up the steps to where you’re sitting, wrinkling your nose upon taking note of his damp hair and uniform. It physically pains you to admit that despite it all, he still manages to look good.

“Trust me, you do not inspire me in the slightest,” you sneer, putting some distance between you two when he unceremoniously plops himself into the seat next to you. “But thanks for agreeing to do this during your break.”

The wink he flashes you makes you almost regret thanking him. “Anything for you, Y/N. Where’s Mingyu?”

“Busy. He’ll text you later to schedule your photos.”

“Aw, why the sad face? Missing him already?”

“So what if I am?” The challenging cock of your eyebrow wipes the mocking pout off Chan’s face as his heart involuntarily beats a little faster, unable to help himself from secretly wondering if you were serious.

He huffs in mild aggravation, miffed at the thought of you and Kim Mingyu being a thing. As much as he’d like to deny all chances of that happening, it’s impossible to ignore how much sense it makes—you spend so much time together on the newsletter, who knows what looks are shared or what touches are exchanged in the editor’s office when Jeon Wonwoo steps out for TA duties?

It’s a horrific seedling that’s been sowed in his mind ever since the two of you first approached him a year ago for an interview much like this one; a seedling Chan would like to leave out to die in the blazing afternoon sun.

“Whatever, let’s just start. My break’s gonna be over soon.”

You don’t know what’s caused such a sudden shift in the athlete’s attitude, but you don’t like it one bit. His answers become increasingly clipped, which definitely won’t give you much to work with when you start on the column in between essays later. You don’t comment on it, though, wanting to maintain your last shred of professionalism around him.

“Okay, next question… what are your personal goals for—”

“Chan! Coach said two more minutes!” Choi Yeonjun yells from the base of the bleachers. “Better wrap it up with your girlfriend!”

You barely know the blue-haired boy, yet something compels you to abandon all self respect to screech back, “I’m not his girlfriend!” He hardly seems fazed, simply shooting you a sheepish smile along with a shrug of his shoulders.

Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, and much to your alarm you find the seat that was occupied by Chan just seconds ago abandoned, said boy already making his way down the bleachers towards his teammate. You spring to your feet. “Wait! Lee Chan! I’m not done asking! He said you have two minutes!”

He doesn’t spare you a look, blonde hair bouncing with each step he takes away from you. “Yeah, but I’m done answering!”

“But—”

Finally, he tosses you a quick glance over his shoulder. The sneer tugging at his lips has you seeing red immediately. “You said I give the same answers all the time, right? Just whip something up yourself!”

Defeated, you can only watch dumbly as he continues his descent before huffily grabbing your bag and shovelling your things into it with more force than necessary.

You hate him, you really do.

WEEK SEVENTEEN.

“Wait, she really said that?”

“Who said what?” you ask curiously, throwing your backpack onto the nearest surface with little regard as to where it lands. “And why is Gyu’s face as red as that time when Joshua got drunk?”

“Hey! I’m right here, you know!”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes teasingly. “They were talking about this girl who’s going to be in the coming Project Vernway, basically—”

A loud groan rumbles from Mingyu’s chest as he buries his face into his arms. His voice is muffled when he asks, “Can we please change the subject?”

“Nope,” Vernon says, popping the ‘p’, “anyways, I asked her if we could feature her because she was wearing this super cool Powerpuff Girls shirt—ten out of ten, by the way, you guys need to take notes—but yeah, after Mingyu took her photos she asked him for a goodnight kiss before bolting away. And that’s not all: right after that he said he would’ve given her one if she hadn’t run away.”

Another embarrassed howl erupts from the photographer. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he sulks, crossing his arms over his chest, “she was cute.”

“Okay, okay, before Gyu actually starts crying, I just wanna check up on everyone’s progress,” Wonwoo says, “remember your parts are due three days before winter break ends so I have enough time to edit everything and send them to Professor Nam.” He goes around the room, nodding in approval as each of your fellow column writers confirm that they’re in the homestretch of their pieces.

You shuffle nervously when the editor’s eyes land on you, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. A soft utterance of your name leaves Wonwoo’s lips, and his eyes are gentle as he asks, “Do you need help with yours? Because you know you can always tell us, right? I’m sure any of us will be happy to help.”

You smile gratefully as your friends nod in agreement. “Thanks, guys. It’s no big deal, it’s just that… I didn’t really finish the interview with Chan because he got called away, and since he kept whining about how I ask the same questions over and over again I actually added a few new ones this time, so I can’t exactly make up answers for him…”

“But winter break starts next week,” Wonwoo frowns, “you might not see him again until after, which is past the internal deadline Nam gave us.”

“Maybe she can text him the remaining questions,” Joshua supplies helpfully to ease your growing panic, “that way they won’t have to physically meet up during the break for the interview.”

“Except Lee Chan is notoriously bad at responding to texts.” Your heart practically drops to your stomach because you know Seungkwan’s right, and for a reason you cannot fault Chan over. “Something about random students asking around for his number and blowing his phone up. Honestly, I don’t envy the poor kid.”

“It’s okay, guys,” you reassure, yet your tone betrays your absolute lack of confidence, “I’ll think of something.”

•••

The ‘something’ is what led you to the doorstep of Seo Changbin’s house where he’s throwing a big bash right before winter break starts tomorrow. His end-of-semester parties are always lavish, and while they’re not as exclusive as one might expect, you’ve never found yourself at one of them.

Until tonight, because you happened to be scrolling through Instagram when you saw him on one of the partygoers’ Stories.

The doorbell chimes loudly as you run your hands up and down your arms to warm them. In your haste to get to the party you had forgotten to grab a jacket to wear, leaving you vulnerable to the biting cold thanks to the sheer sleeves of your dress.

The blue-haired athlete who answers the door has your shoulders sagging with relief. At least Choi Yeonjun’s somewhat of a familiar face. “Hey! Y/N, right?” he greets brightly as he steps aside to let you in. “I didn’t know you liked coming to these parties, not that it’s a bad thing, though! I always see you running around interviewing people for the newsletter, so it’s good to let loose once in a while. You look great, by the way!”

You laugh shyly while smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles on your slip dress, a timeless number the colour of champagne that was one of your many 3am impulse purchases. “Thanks, Yeonjun. I’m not really here to party, though, I’m looking for Chan—oh, don’t give me that look!” you whine, shoving lightly at his shoulder as he cackles, “I just need to ask him a few questions.”

As the two of you head deeper into the house, you quickly realise that all those rumours about Changbin’s legendary parties are indeed true; the marble floors are so shiny that they’re no different from mirrors, the open kitchen you just walked past had shelves upon shelves of what you assume are expensive wines, and you’ve lost count of how many crystal chandeliers you’ve already walked under.

You have to practically yell over the loud music and the chitter-chatter of the crowd just so Yeonjun can hear you. “Wow, Changbin really is loaded, huh?”

He chuckles into the rim of his cup before taking a large gulp. “That’s the biggest understatement of the year. Do you want a drink?”

You refuse with a gentle smile and shake of your head. “It’s okay, I have to go after I talk to Chan since I’m taking an early bus home tomorrow.”

“Ah, that’s a shame, but I can assure you that there’ll be lots more parties like this, so—”

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

Speak of the devil.

You tear your gaze away from Yeonjun and come face-to-face with none other than Lee Chan. Despite a majority of the partygoers’ choice of fancy attire, he dons an oversized letterman jacket over a snug black shirt with ripped jeans and sneakers, it shouldn’t work so well on him, but it does. His wine-stained lips purse tightly together as his eyes flit between you and his blue-haired teammate suspiciously, and you can’t help but feel small under his intense gaze.

“Oh, okay, got it,” Yeonjun mutters, already beginning to inch away from you, “I’m just gonna go look for Binnie. See ya, Y/N.”

Your heart hammers violently against your rib cage when Chan takes a step closer to you and leans in to speak into your ear, his breath fanning across the shell. “You never answered my question.”

You take a shaky step backwards, plastering an expression of indifference onto your face and resolutely ignoring the dizziness that resulted from your proximity. “I came here to look for you, actually,” you say coolly.

“Me?”

“Yeah, did you forget that we haven’t finished our interview?”

A disbelieving scoff pushes past his lips. “You mean to tell me that you got dressed and put on that,” he vaguely gestures to your dress, “just to talk business with me?”

“Yes, because there’s no way I’m showing up to one of Seo Changbin’s parties in my pyjamas.”

“You could’ve just waited until after the break.”

“My internal deadline is before that.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you as he nonchalantly takes a sip from his cup. “And why should I care? You’re the one asking me for a favour, need I remind you of that?”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t walked off! Please, I just need five minutes!”

His lack of response is truly maddening, reaching a tipping point where the frustration coursing through your veins brings along a newfound burst of confidence, prompting you to wrap your hand around his wrist before pulling him along with you through the throng of tipsy students. You have no idea where you’re headed, but you figure there’d be a spare room upstairs where you could talk without having to yell over the noise.

A crisp clacking sound echoes off the marble as you march up the stairs with Chan in tow, and you breathe a sigh of relief upon reaching the second floor, already finding it much quieter with the party downstairs reduced to mere buzzing. Your streak of good luck persists when the first door on the right opens to an empty bedroom, which you immediately pull Chan into, shutting the door behind you.

You clumsily reach around the dark for a light switch, brightness flooding the room in seconds as you press yourself against the smooth wood of the door. “Five minutes,” you repeat firmly, “and I swear I’ll leave.”

“It’s not that, Y/N,” Chan says softly, “the guys on the team will be looking for me soon, there’s no time. Look, you can write the interview however you want, okay? Make me look like as much of an asshole as you want and all that. I don’t care.”

“But I do.”

Your voice comes out a whisper, so quiet that for a second you fear he didn’t hear you. “I care about my column and believe it or not, I care what my interviewees have to say.” You can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, your gaze instead trained on the carpeted floor as you continue, “I want to be a journalist after graduation, and I take the column seriously because everyone else on the team certainly does, which makes it even more worthy of my dedication. Can I at least text you the questions so you can answer them over the break, please? I’d really appreciate it if the response came from you, even if it’s all bullshit.”

You wonder if he’s listening, what a blow to your pride it’d be if you were to find him completely zoned out and bored. You will never be able to show your face around him again if that’s the case.

Hesitantly, your eyes find him again. His expression is unreadable, but his stare is piercing, intense, boring into you in a way that has your heart almost leaping out of your chest. Before either of you can speak again, muffled voices outside in the hallway cause the two of you to freeze.

“—Mina said she saw him head upstairs with a girl.”

“Then… shouldn’t we head back?”

“Let’s just try first. Yo, Chan! Are you there? Rocky’s starting Just Dance in five!”

Your head whips away from the door as you stare at Chan with wide, panicked eyes.

He’s the complete opposite, unfazed and composed, when he asks you in a hushed voice, “Are you going home for the holidays?”

You nod.

“Okay, well, where do you live?”

“Excuse me?”

“Just answer the question, please.”

You supply your general area through gritted teeth, bewilderment growing at his chuckle. “I live, like, a fifteen-minute drive away from you, Y/N. How about this: we meet over winter break at some place—a café, park, wherever you want—and I’ll finish the rest of the interview with you. Sound good?”

You blink owlishly at him, mind reeling as you process the offer he made you. “Really? Y-You’d do that?”

Chan shrugs. “Sure, it’s not like I have anything to do. Plus, I do feel kinda bad that you came all the way here just for me to turn you away.”

“I’m so touched.”

He throws his head back in laughter at your dry delivery. It’s a contagious chime, one that has a smile unwittingly tugging at your lips. You feel like you can breathe easier now. Who would’ve known that you and Lee Chan would come to some sort of an agreement for once? Certainly not you.

“How are you getting home?”

“The bus, probably.” You grimace, the thought of standing in the cold waiting in your thin dress highly unappealing.

“Please tell me you have a jacket somewhere.”

Chan rolls his eyes at your telling silence. “My God, Y/N, you’re going to freeze out there,” he mutters in disbelief while shrugging off his jacket before drawing close to you so he can drape the garment over your shoulders. You pray he can’t hear the thundering of your heartbeat as his cologne overwhelms your senses, intoxicating notes of fresh linen and jasmine flooding your system and threatening to make it go haywire.

He gives you a pointed look when you remain unmoving, and you realise that he won't be satisfied until you put your arms through the sleeves. So you do, already feeling much warmer with the thicker material enveloping your arms.

It’s a peculiar combination, his letterman jacket and your silky dress. You peer down at the ensemble with amusement. “What an odd mix.”

The fluttery sensation in your stomach only intensifies tenfold at his grin; it feels like a thousand elephants are doing cartwheels inside you. “Really? Because I think it looks quite nice on you—almost as good as it does on me.”

“You’re actually the worst.” Your words, however, don’t hold any hostility this time around.

“I just gave you my jacket!”

“… Touché.”

WEEK EIGHTEEN.

True to his word, Chan meets you at a cute café you used to frequent with your high school friends. It’s a quaint little place, with potted plants lining every windowsill, fairy lights strewn across the walls in various designs, the smell of freshly-baked pastries wafting through the air. You like that it’s tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city, you like that it’s not trying to be perfect with its wobbly tables and overgrown plants that dangle just inches from your head, you like that it feels like home.

It feels weirdly intimate to be somewhere like here with Chan, someone you once considered a loathed enemy, especially when the owner, a kind lady in her sixties who treats every patron as though they were her own grandchildren, brought over a slice of chocolate cake for the two of you to share after recognising you from your teenage years. Neither of you have the heart to tell her that you’re not a couple as she strokes your cheeks and reminisces about how much you’ve grown, not wanting to drag down her spirits during the holiday season.

“That was a nice place,” he says when you step out into the freezing cold, regrettably no longer in the comforting warmth of the café, “and the owner was really sweet too. I can see why you used to come here a lot. Thanks for bringing me here.”

You smile. “You’re welcome, and thank you for coming. Honestly, I was a little surprised when you told me you don’t have much to do over winter break, I thought you’d have more places to go, what with being Mr Popular and all.”

Chan matches his footfalls to yours as you wander aimlessly through the icy streets. “Nah. I already spend so much time on practice and games that I’m ready to just relax and sleep until noon. Plus, I miss my family.”  

“That’s fair, you’re always so busy.”

Your cheeks grow warm when he playfully nudges you with his elbow. “I mean, so are you with the newsletter. What about you? Any fun plans for the break?”

“Mm, not really. I’ll probably just stay home for the most part to spend time with my family, and maybe meet up with some friends from high school. Minghao and I did plan on going ice-skating so he could teach me, but his parents were in town a week earlier than he expected so I told him to spend time with them instead. The rink is open all year, anyways.”

“I can teach you, if you want,” Chan blurts out.

“Wait, you know how to ice-skate?”

He nods, “Yeah, my dad taught me when I was little. C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

The Lee Chan asking to hang out with you? You almost have to slap yourself to believe that this isn’t some dream your mind had conjured up to taunt you.

“Are you sure? I’ve taken up enough of your time…”

“No, I want to, and you’ll love it! What do you say?”

You’ve never seen him so enthusiastic like this, reminding you all too much like an excited puppy. If he was one, his tail would surely be wagging back and forth eagerly. How could you say no to that?

“Okay.”

•••

“I swear to God, Lee Chan, if you let me fall I’ll actually smack you.”

He laughs as he coaxes you out onto the ice, wincing a little at the vice grip your fingers have locked his hands in. “I won’t, I won’t, I promise.”

“If I die today, please tell my friends that I love them very much even though all they do is bully me.” About my maybe-crush on you. 

“You’re so dramatic,” he says with a roll of his eyes, “I can assure you, Y/N, you’re not gonna die today.”

“We’re walking on ice with blades stuck to our feet.”

His grin only widens while he continues guiding you along the rink walls. You’re aware that it’s very much giving the same energy as swimming next to the edge of a pool, but you might actually rather perish than fall on your butt in front of Lee Chan.

“Fair enough, but it gets easier once you know how to do it. Relax a little, yeah?”

He attempts loosening your hold on his fingers, alarm bells going off in your head instantly at the thought of him leaving you to your own devices, stranded on frozen water with kids half your age whizzing by without a care in the world.

In your panicked state, your hand flies up to grip the wall while the other squeezes his as though your life depended on it. “No, no, no! Chan, please! If you leave me here I will make sure your sorry ass regrets it for the rest of your life!”

“Spend a lot of time thinking about my ass, don’t you?”

Heat assaults your cheeks, burning a fiery trail up to your ears as he throws his head back and cackles. “S-Shut up. You’re so annoying.”

“Just relax a little, okay?” You’re surprised at how much softer his voice becomes once his laughter ceases. “Don’t panic, focus on putting one foot in front of the other… See? There you go.”

You’re still not entirely confident—after all, next to Chan’s relaxed, graceful movements you probably look like a fumbling idiot who’s never walked a day in their life. If he feels the same way, he doesn’t show it; instead he’s patient with you, never pushing you too far out of your comfort level by letting you stay close to the wall. Slowly but surely, the two of you establish a rhythm as you glide across the ice with his assistance, emboldened by the murmured words of encouragement that spill from his pretty lips.

“Do you wanna start moving towards the middle?” he whispers.

You look up from your joined hands, heart skipping a beat at his gentle smile and the way his blonde hair falls over his eyes just a little. Perhaps you’d dare be bold and brush it out of the way for him if you weren’t as wobbly as a newborn fawn, but alas you settle with returning the smile, accompanied by a tiny nod of your head.

And so he pulls you out into the wide open, occasionally looking over his shoulder to avoid crashing into the other skaters, though he doesn’t forget to turn back to you with encouraging grins. It’s unclear what has your heart pounding a mile a minute, it could be the lack of distance between you two or simply the fear that you’d slip and send yourself sprawling across the ice, or perhaps it’s the surreality that you’re willingly spending time with each other when it feels like you were vehemently insisting to your friends that you hated him with every fibre of your being just yesterday.

The placement of your next step is just a tad off, and everything happens in slow motion. Your left foot trips over your right, you lose balance, knees buckling as gravity forces your body forward, your surroundings flash and you brace yourself for impact.

The icy impact that doesn’t come.

Chan stares down at you with widened eyes. “You okay?” His hands are gripping at your biceps tightly as you scramble to steady yourself, suddenly feeling very warm because fuck, you totally jinxed yourself and now he’s going to think you’re a loser—

“Woah, woah, slow down. Don’t panic, remember?” he reminds you, “panic will only make you slip more.”

“This would be a really bad time to let go of me,” you joke breathlessly, still trying to get your skates to stay upright.

“I promised I wouldn’t, didn’t I?” Chan asks, before adding, “put a little more trust in me.” He sounds mirthful, as though you’re not supposed to take the latter part seriously, but even in your frenzied state you can tell his gaze doesn’t share the same jest he conveys with his voice.

You smile at him sheepishly when you’re finally able to stand properly again. “Thanks, I think I tripped because I got distracted.”

“It’s okay, it’s totally normal to slip on your first try.”

“Still, you saved me from humiliating myself in public.”

He smiles wryly, “Well, I couldn’t just not catch you.”

For a moment neither of you say anything; you stare into his eyes, fully aware that both his hands are on your arms still, holding you close as your eyes flit from one part of his face to the other. He’s close, so close. And so unfairly pretty.

You trace his features with your gaze as if trying to commit them to memory, from his cat-like eyes to the tiny moles on his cheek to his soft lips—pretty, pretty, pretty. Everything about Lee Chan is so pretty, and you knew that, you’ve known it all this time; you just didn’t want to admit that you found him attractive.

Chan quietly observes your flusteredness, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth to suppress a grin as fondness blooms in his chest like flowers in a meadow during springtime. He really wasn’t lying when he said you were cute when angry, then again he just finds you cute no matter what. There’s something so endearing about how your eyes nervously dart from one place to another before eventually landing on his face, or how your earlier tumble had left your hair adorably tousled.

He frees up a hand to fix your hair, and your heart practically stops at his gentle touches as he neatly tucks your hair behind your ear, with every brush of his fingertips against your skin sending jolts of electricity through your body. He smiles proudly at his handiwork, seemingly unaware of the effect he has on you. “That’s better.”

You insist on buying Chan hot chocolate from a vendor at the nearby Christmas market despite his protests. “Just take it,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes as you shove the paper cup into his hands, “think of it as a ‘thank you’ for teaching me today.”

“It was fun, I had fun.” He gingerly takes a sip of the piping hot decadence, tongue peeking out to lick the foam off the corners of his mouth. “You weren’t bad for a first-timer, y’know. I’m surprised how quickly you sorta got the hang of it.”

“What can I say? I had a good teacher—what? Why are you giving me that look?”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just… I think that’s the first time you’ve given me a compliment. Keep going, don’t be shy.”

You wrinkle your nose at him in mock distaste before taking another sip of hot chocolate, gooey half-melted marshmallows coating your tongue in sweetness. “No, thank you. I like humbling you.”

“You’re so mean to me… I kinda like it.”

“Is this your way of telling me you have a—”

“Excuse me, can you take a picture of us?”

The couple that stops you, dressed in tasteful, coordinating maroon outfits, looks to be around your age. You agree immediately, and the girl beams gratefully before handing you her phone, eagerly pulling her boyfriend to pose in front of the towering Christmas tree at the centre of the market.

The girl practically glows with joy when you return her phone. “These look amazing, thank you so much!” Her happiness is contagious as she scrolls through the photos you took, her boyfriend looking on with a smile with his chin resting atop her head. You can’t help but feel somewhat proud, perhaps Mingyu’s photography skills have rubbed off on you just a little.

“C’mon, I’ll take some for you two as well!”

You look to Chan, desperately pleading for help with your eyes. “O-Oh, but we’re not—”

“Sure, that’d be great. Thanks.”

“Huh? What are you—”

He shoots you a warning look as though daring you to finish the sentence. With a sigh, you realise he’s right: there’s no use turning the situation into an uncomfortable mess for everyone involved.

Cheeks growing hotter by the minute, you stand next to Chan for the pictures. Shoulders just barely grazing the other’s, arms awkwardly hanging by your sides, smiles stiff and unnatural—if the assignment was passing off as a couple somewhat convincingly, the two of you would still be a million light years away from hitting the benchmark. The real Christmas miracle would be if the ground split into a chasm and swallowed you whole, because this is definitely enough embarrassment for a lifetime.

Chan waits for the couple to be out of earshot before buckling over in hysterical laughter, his guffaws unceasing even when you stare at him like he just grew an extra head. “Why the hell are you laughing?”

You roll your eyes when he holds up his hand as a signal to wait, tapping your foot against the pavement impatiently with your arms folded over your chest as he gasps for air.

“I just think it’s funny,” he begins, finally having calmed down, “that we look so painfully awkward. Wait, let me send them to you right now so you can see.”

“I’m not sure I want to—” Your phone chimes from his message. Unable to evade your curiosity, you quickly go through each one, unable to conceal your disgust as your features contort from the grimace that takes over your face. “Ew, I look horrible in literally all of them.”

“You look fine, Y/N. Look on the bright side, in a few months’ time we can look back on these and have a good laugh over them.”

“You already did and it’s only been two minutes.”

“Oops. I did, didn’t I?”

•••

An hour later, you catch him changing your contact photo to the worst one out of the bunch, devious giggles spilling from his lips as he zooms all the way into your face before hitting ‘save’.

Obviously, you do the same to him.

WEEK TWENTY.

“A little birdie told me that you and a certain soccer player sneaked upstairs at Seo Changbin’s party.”

You pointedly ignore your friend’s teasing grin. “It’s not what you think, Hao.”

“Then do tell, who are you so desperately searching for?”

“I just need to return his jacket,” you mutter absentmindedly, eyes scanning the quad for a certain head of blonde hair with an all-too-familiar letterman jacket folded neatly over your arm.

Minghao’s eyes widen dramatically, an expression so uncharacteristic of him that you can’t help snorting at the sight. “It’s his? I thought it was Vernon’s all this time! Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you loved me!”

“It… it slipped my mind,” you admit, “but I didn’t think it was that big of a deal…”

“Of course it is!” He seems almost scandalised that you thought he’d brush off such news. “You were sworn enemies with the guy just before winter break! And now you’re telling me he gave you his jacket and you also hung out over the break? You owe me a week’s worth of lunch.”

“What? Why?”

“If I hadn’t cancelled on you because my parents were in town you wouldn’t have gone ice-skating with your Prince Charming. I made this all possible.”

“Your parents did,” you point out matter-of-factly, “and anyways, he’s not my Prince Charming.”

“I beg to differ.”

You whirl around at the familiar voice only for your jaw to drop to the ground quicker than Professor Park can give out failing grades. Lee Chan stands before you in all his glory, head attractively tilted to the side as he gazes at you with a lopsided smile, one hand tucked in his jean pocket while the other runs through his hair. His purple hair.

He looks… good. Really good.

“You’ll catch flies like that,” he muses when he realises you’re not going to stop gaping anytime soon, and places a curled index finger beneath your chin to gently push your mouth closed.

“You—your hair—when—”

“Oh, that?” he dismisses casually as though he’s not currently the source of all your distress, “like, two days ago, thought a change would be nice. Why? Do you not like it? I knew I shouldn’t have gotten it trimmed—”

“No!” The answer comes out far louder than you had intended it to and draws more than a few confused stares from passing students. You can’t see, but Minghao’s about to burst a blood vessel from how hard he’s holding back laughter at your accidental outburst. “It—it looks… good,” you mumble, ears burning under the blanket of your hair.

Chan’s telling smirk is all you need to confirm that he asked the question fully knowing what your response would be. “Well, if you like it then that's all that matters.”

You hate it, you hate him, you hate what he’s doing to you.

“Your jacket,” you blurt out, not trusting yourself to formulate a full, coherent sentence as you thrust the material into his arms. “Washed and everything.”

“Keep it.”

“What?”

“Keep it,” he repeats, a little firmer this time.

“Why?”

“Because I like how it looks on you more.”

Stupid Lee Chan and his stupid flirty self. “I—but you—”

“She’d love to have it,” Minghao interrupts, paying no mind to the look of betrayal splayed across your face, “and she says ‘thank you’.”

Embarrassingly, your voice comes out a mere squeak. “I—I guess?”

With Minghao’s support, Chan gently pushes the jacket back into your arms. “You’re welcome,” he says with a genuine smile, “I’d love to stay but I have a meeting with my academic advisor. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

You can only nod dumbly, still in shock over all that happened even after he’s long become a speck in the distance. Minghao calls out your name softly but you remain unresponsive, eyes unfocused as he waves his hand before your face. He wonders if you’re still breathing.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he breathes out. Of all his years of knowing you, he’s never seen someone reduce you to such a state before. It’s kind of impressive. “You’re so whipped.”

You blink down at the jacket, subconsciously clutching it tighter to your body.

“Shit,” you curse softly after several beats of silence, “I think I am.”

WEEK TWENTY-FOUR.

As members of the newsletter team, it’s only fair that you’d be the first to get a copy of the latest issue.

“This bakery looks really good, Josh,” Vernon remarks, idly flipping to the next page of his copy, “ooh, are those cinnamon rolls?”

“The best cinnamon rolls,” Joshua corrects, “they got the pastry-to-cinnamon-to-icing ratio down perfectly.”

You hum, stomach quietly rumbling at all the photos of the treats he tried. “They must be really good if you gave them such a glowing review. I’m gonna get Hao to go with me sometime.”

Bless Joshua Hong for essentially being the student population’s little lab rat. You’ve almost never had a bad meal whenever you go outside campus to eat because of Michelin Shua.

Almost.

Seungkwan snorts, “My sweet, innocent child, Y/N, you keep forgetting that he writes nice reviews for all the places he goes to even if their food sucks.”

“I don’t wanna be mean or make enemies! Plus, have you guys never heard of the phrase ‘see the good in everything’? I swear this place is actually good, though.”

“Mm, you sure it has nothing to do with the girl who works there?”

“How—how did you…”

Seungkwan regards him haughtily, lips stretching into a cheeky smile. “I have my sources.”

“Did you spy on me? You creep!”

You shake your head fondly at their banter as you glance down at your phone, eyes immediately bugging out of your head when you notice the time and all the missed calls. “Gotta go,” you mumble, aggressively stuffing your copy of the newsletter into your bag.

“Woah, what’s the rush?” Vernon asks. To no one’s surprise, he’s on Seungkwan’s page because you all know he’s not-so-secretly-anymore invested in the drama people anonymously confess, in particular the girl who’s recently been asking for advice on confessing to her best friend.

Wonwoo smiles amusedly, eyes twinkling with mirth behind his glasses. “You’re going to meet Chan, aren’t you?”

“I’m not. What makes you think I’m meeting him? I have other friends outside of him. I could be meeting with Hao.”

“You start babbling when you get defensive.”

You freeze, hand hovering just above the doorknob. “No, I don’t. You’re a liar, Mingyu.”

“Just go,” Joshua says, making a shooing motion with his hand, “don’t keep lover boy waiting.”

“He’s not lover boy!”

The last thing you hear before closing the door behind you is a smug “called it”.

Damn you, Mingyu.

•••

The field is practically empty when you arrive, only a few jocks remain as they gather their stuff from the sidelines, neither of which are Chan.

Huffing at your own forgetfulness, you take your phone out from your pocket and scroll until you get to his contact. You pace around as you wait for him to pick up, lazily gazing up at the darkening sky with your phone pressed to your ear.

“Sorry, the person you are calling cannot be reached right now. Please leave a message after the beep.”

You end the call and switch to your messages instead, hoping to find texts from him about his current whereabouts. Shoved in a box at the back of your head is the thought that perhaps he’s given up on waiting for you and went home; you want to take that box and burn it.

You decide to try calling again.

“Come on, come on, come on…” you mutter, already starting to curl into yourself as a gust of icy wind rustles through the field. Maybe you should head inside the sports centre, he might still be in there if you’re lucky.

“You’re late.”

A startled yelp escapes you, and you whip around with a hand on your racing heart to find Chan levelling you an unimpressed stare.

“Sorry,” you squeak, “I was going through the new issue with the team and lost track of time. Why are you soaking wet?”

He looks at you weirdly like you just said something totally bizarre. “Because I just took a shower? I’m not going to dinner with you dripping with sweat and in my uniform, I have standards too, y’know.”

“You should’ve dried your hair completely,” you say disapprovingly, “it’s still winter and you’re out here standing with wet hair, you’re gonna catch a cold.” You don’t bring up the way his white T-shirt clings to his damp torso, teasing the defined muscles underneath. You don’t even want to think about it. “Go back inside and dry it, I’ll wait.”

“But I’m starving,” he complains, but follows you to the sports centre anyways.

“I don’t want you catching a cold and then passing it to me. I can't be sick, I have a column to run.”

“Mhm, and it totally has nothing to do with you caring about me and not wanting to see me sick.”

You shiver as you step through the automatic doors. Universities love running the AC on full blast like electricity costs nothing, you’ve come to realise. “Exactly.”

Chan folds his arms across his broad chest—again, you don’t want to think about it—and a pout settles on his lips. “Fine, then let’s just go eat. You can just avoid me if I do end up getting sick.”

“For God’s sake, just go,” you groan, pushing him in the direction of the first hallway that leads to the men’s locker room.

“I like it when you’re bossy,” he grins, “it’s attractive.”

“I’m going to leave if you don’t hurry.” That seems to do the trick and he relents, but in true Lee Chan fashion he turns around and winks once he gets to the door.

You have to duck your head so he doesn’t see the growing smile on your face.

•••

“This is why I don’t dry my hair completely, with damp hair I can at least push it back, but now it’s just getting in my eyes.”

“Okay, you big baby.” You don’t know what he’s talking about, his hair looks so soft and fluffy like this. Your hand itches to run through it.

“Oh? We’re on ‘baby’ terms now?”

You dodge his question in favour of gazing up at the neon sign. “Rocket Diner? Good choice.”

Chan hums. “Yeah, saw it got a good rating on Michelin Shua.”

“You read the last issue?”

“I read most of them,” he admits. “I skip your column when it’s not about me, though.” He must’ve seen the pure horror that flashes across your face, because he chuckles. “I’m just joking, Y/N, I do read them. You’re good at writing, seriously.”  

You smile shyly at his genuine compliment. “Thank you, really.”

The two of you pick a booth at the far back and place your orders, most of the selections being Joshua’s recommendations. He’d be so flattered. 

“So… one more game before the championship, are you nervous?” you ask as the server takes away your menus.

“A little… we want to keep the winning streak going, so we’ve been practising more, but everything’s going well so far. Are you coming to the next game?”

“Of course,” you reply, smiling at the server in thanks when he brings you your sodas, “what kind of sports column writer would I be if I didn’t?”

“Will you make me a glittery sign that says ‘Go Chan’ in all caps?”

You pause to mull over his request, “I’ll make you one if the team makes it to the championship.”  

He grins cheekily, “I was joking again, but since you’re the one who offered—sure, I’d love one and I’ll definitely hold you to it.”

“You better keep it forever after that, I want glitter to haunt every crevice of your life.”

He throws his head back as he laughs, “You have creative threats, I’ll give you that.”

You smile over the rim of your glass, idly stirring the ice cubes around in the fizzy beverage. “Thanks, it’s my redeeming quality.”

It feels odd, but not unwelcome, to be giggling and talking over dinner with Chan as though you’ve been close friends for years. Perhaps it’s odd because you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice them too—the longing glances, the lingering touches, the flirty remarks that still feel genuine somehow, it begs the question if this is a date. Or more importantly, if there’s something between the two of you that goes beyond a simple friendship. How cliché of you, growing a friendship with an old enemy only to then fall for him.

But as he walks you home after dinner, your hands grazing each other’s in that will-they-won’t-they manner while your laughter echoes through the dark when he recounts yet another story about his teammates, you’re starting to think that maybe clichés aren’t so bad.

WEEK TWENTY-SEVEN.

News spread like wildfire at Pledis U, this one is no exception.

You’re walking out of your last lecture of the day with Minghao when gasps and murmurs break out around you. You only manage to catch a few words at a time, but it doesn’t take long for you to piece everything together, and it takes even less time for the blood to start draining from your face.

Minghao knows the look on your face all too well. “Go,” he tells you softly as he takes your bag, “I’ll bring it back to your place, just go.”

You manage a grateful smile before you’re pushing yourself through the swarm of students leaving the lecture hall, hushed apologies spilling from your lips. Your legs carry you as fast as they can possibly go in the direction of the university’s medical centre where the staff at the counter gives you directions to the room he’s in.

Yeonjun and a few others are sitting on the benches outside when you get to the third floor. His neck cranes to where you stand at the top of the stairs upon hearing your quiet pants and offers a tight-lipped smile when your eyes meet.

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun whispers back, “the doctor said it’s just a minor sprain and he should be able to fully heal by the championship. He’s just… understandably upset about it all. He trained really hard and then this just… happened.”

“Can I see him?”

“Sure, I’ll go in and talk to Coach for you.”

Nodding in gratitude, you watch as he heads into the room. There’s muffled conversation for about a minute before he steps out followed by an older man who immediately makes a turn around the corner, mumbling something about making a call.

Yeonjun’s still holding the door open for you when your attention shifts back to him, the small smile on his face telling you you have the green light to go inside.

The door shuts behind you as you hesitantly look around, eyes finally landing on Chan who’s already staring back at you. Your heart cracks a little when you see his ankle wrapped in bandages. Even before you became friends with him, you already knew how much the sport and being on the team means to him, so you can’t imagine the pressure and frustration he’s under when a major competition’s just around the corner.

“I have the worst luck ever,” he says when you sit in the chair across from him, “literally right before the championship and this happens.”

“It’ll be okay, Chan,” you say, “if you take it easy and focus on healing, you’ll recover with at least a week left to practise.”

A single tear escapes his eye and falls into his lap as he tilts his head back, blinking up at the bright lights in order to keep his tears at bay.

“I just feel horrible,” he whispers after several moments of uneasy stillness, “this couldn't have happened at a worse time—if I can’t make it to the championship all the guys’ hard work will have been for nothing and it’ll be all my fault. I let them down, I let Coach down.”

“No, you didn’t,” you say firmly, “you didn’t let anyone down and you’ll make a full recovery before the match.”

“But what if I don’t?”

Your hand finds the side of his face, and it’s that moment when he breaks like glass shattering on the ground, droplets gliding down his cheeks behind shut eyes as your thumb wipes them away.

Your other hand finds his clasped ones, resting over them in hopes it’ll provide some degree of comfort, in hopes he’ll feel a little less alone.

“You will, Chan. I promise.”

WEEK TWENTY-NINE.

You should’ve known to never trust Lee Chan.

His ankle healed a few days ago, but he was still advised to take it easy and to avoid vigorous movement for the time being. Yet, as you watch him practise for the first time in two weeks from the bleachers, you can tell he’s doing anything but that.

So when the team takes another short break, you head down to the field to talk to him with your bag hiked over your shoulder.

“Uh-oh, I think you’re in trouble,” Yeonjun says to Chan when he sees you approaching. Even from several feet away, the stony look on your face is unmistakable.

Chan glares at his friends half-heartedly when they let out teasing ooh’s before jogging over to you. “What’s wrong? Why the long face?”

“What’s wrong?” you repeat incredulously, “what’s wrong is that you’ve clearly been over-exerting yourself when your ankle just healed! You’re supposed to take things slow for at least a little more!”

His smile instantly fades away. “There’s no time for that, we only have two weeks left, you know that.”

“I do, and I know the championship is important to you all, but you’re only going to increase your chances of getting hurt again if you keep playing like this today.”

“Geez, I’m fine,” Chan snaps, “I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“I’m not babysitting you! Excuse me for not wanting to see you hurt again!”

“I just said that I’m fine!” The two of you are too busy heatedly staring the other down to notice the rest of his teammates observing you, prepared to intervene in case things get too ugly. “I didn’t know you cared so much about me.”

You can’t help but flinch at the scorn that drips from his voice; it’s like a poison, paralysing your every nerve until you can’t move an inch. “O-Of course I do…” you stammer out, “why wouldn’t I care about you?”

He angles his face to the left, refusing to meet your eyes. Genuine hurt consumes you and burns through your flesh like acid, it feels like a large rock’s been lodged at the back of your throat, making it difficult to speak or swallow.

“Chan,” you call out softly, reaching out to grab his hand. He doesn’t pull away, which you take as the first good sign. “Chan, I care about you so much… and look—at the end of the day you know your body best and you can do whatever you feel like is right, I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you again, okay?”

He still doesn’t respond, but you know he’s calmed down judging by the steady rises and falls of his shoulder and the unclenching of his jaw.

Your phone vibrates with a reminder, disrupting the silence between you two.

You check the notification before shoving your phone back in your pocket. “I have a newsletter meeting,” you tell him regretfully, “but I’ll try to stop by later again. Just… just take care, okay?”

The lack of reaction from Chan worries you, a sinking pit forms in your stomach as you wonder if you’ve truly upset him to the point of no return. Perhaps it’ll be better after you both have some time alone. With one last glance at him, you begin making your way off the field.

You barely make it twenty steps when you hear his call of your name.

The last thing you register before your mind goes blank is him jogging up to you; there’s a light pressure on your left cheek, a feeling all too similar to that of soft lips against your skin. Chan’s cheeks are tinted pink when he draws away, the rosy hue growing in intensity as hollers and whistles erupt from his teammates, evidently still watching your exchange from where they sit in a circle just a few feet away.

His shy smile is endearing, as radiant as the sun shining down on you.

“Just so you know, I care about you a lot too.”

WEEK THIRTY-ONE.

“Hold still, something’s in your hair.” Joshua leans closer to Minghao, his fingers picking seemingly nothing out of his silvery hair. He examines the sparkling, minuscule speck on his fingertip before giving your friend a questioning look. “Glitter?”

Minghao groans, your name leaving his lips in a long, drawn-out whine. “See! I told you it got everywhere!”

“It’s not my fault!” It kind of is. “He’s the one who wanted it with glitter!”

“You owe me big time for helping you with that sign,” Minghao pouts, ducking his head after Joshua very kindly offers to check his hair for more glitter.

“I know,” you agree, certain that it wouldn’t turn out as well as it had without the assistance of Minghao’s artistic flair, “feel free to name your price anytime.”

As always, Wonwoo had managed to get you all front row seats at the championship, his reasoning had been the same as last year’s—“How is my sports column writer going to write about the game if she can’t even see what’s going on?” Works like a charm every year, and neither of you are ashamed about sneaking the rest of the team plus a few other friends into your exclusive section.

But this also meant the hanging shade covers do little to shield your faces from the blazing sun, prompting Mingyu to fish his sunglasses out of his bag. Along with his to-go cup of iced tea (at least it used to be) he looks like a dad on vacation, but he makes it work. “When’s the second half starting?” he asks, grimacing after taking a sip from his watered-down beverage.

Vernon checks his watch. “In about five minutes.”  

“You think we can catch up?”

“We can, I hope. Belville is doing way better than I’d expected this year, though…”

You find it difficult to tune into the conversations around you, your mind far too occupied by a certain someone on the massive field below. From where you’re sitting, you’re just able to spy him sitting on one of the benches whilst being flanked by his teammates, purple hair almost appearing red in the sunlight as they listen intently to their coach. You wonder how Chan’s feeling; discouraged by Belville University’s unusually good performance? Or is he confident they'll break the tie?

Minghao gingerly sits down next to you to avoid startling you. “Still worried about him?” he asks gently.

“I just hope he’s not feeling too burdened,” you reply quietly, “he puts enough pressure on himself being their ace and all, not to mention how he needs to be careful with his ankle.”

“I’m sure he is, especially after you talked to him about it,” Minghao smiles, softly nudging you with his elbow as a reminder of that afternoon when Chan kissed your cheek on the field. You had called him that day as you were speed-walking to your meeting, words jumbled and frantic as you attempted to tell him everything in a single breath. He still distinctly remembers your almost incoherent rambling before finally putting together the pieces thanks to context clues.

You stare longingly at Chan’s figure, eyes tracing the ‘DINO’ on the back of his uniform as a smile tugs at your lips.

“I hope so.”

•••

You’re sure the frustration the Pledis U players are feeling at this moment must be tenfold of that of your fellow students. Belville manages to score another goal just as everyone was starting to believe it’d be another victory for your school, once again bringing the match to a tie with just four minutes left on the clock.

“This sucks,” Seungkwan groans, burying his face in his hands, “they were so close to winning.”

Wonwoo nods. “Yeah, but you have to admit that this makes it all the more exciting. Y/N, you’ve been taking notes, right?”

You roll your eyes teasingly as you wave your mini notepad around, showing the editor your full page of notes. “Of course, boss,” you joke, “it’s not like I do this for the past games I’ve been to.”

“Well, but that was before you started being distracted by Lee Chan,” Vernon pipes up before shoving the rest of his hotdog into his mouth. This has to be this third or fourth one, much to Joshua’s disappointment, who had already asserted that the stadium still has yet to improve the ketchup-mustard ratio on their hotdogs, but Vernon eats practically anything you give him so no one is surprised.

“I was not distracted by him!”

Seungkwan looks wholly unconvinced by your statement. “Please, you were totally ogling him when he scored that goal just now.”

“And you choked on your water when he lifted his shirt to wipe his face.”

“Xu Minghao!”

“Just telling the truth.”

It’s almost funny how quickly your friends’ collective teasing (read: bullying) dies down when the match resumes, your section falling into severe silence as none of you dare make a sound lest you miss out on a single moment. You and Minghao soon find yourselves pressed to each other with your arms linked, sharp inhales and hisses escaping you two every now and then as the Pledis U team endeavours to score one final goal.

You’re unable to peel your eyes from Chan, his purple hair bouncing as he runs across the grassy pitch alongside his teammates, skilfully passing the ball from one to another towards the goalpost.

Regardless of how many games you’ve been to in the past, you’ve never once felt immune to the effects of the adrenaline you get as the timer counts down to the final seconds. At this point, you and Minghao are squeezing the hell out of each other’s arms, and despite no words being exchanged you know you’re both hoping the team will manage to pull through—no, they definitely will.

Yeonjun passes the ball over to Chan as they near the Belville goalkeeper, and it feels like time has stopped when he kicks it with full force. Your eyes follow the ball slice through the air like a sharpened knife, you don’t know if you’re even breathing at this point.

It goes in, and time unfreezes as the entire stadium erupts into cheers and applause. Next to you, Seungkwan and Vernon squeal while crushing each other into a bear hug, and even the usually-stoic Wonwoo lets out delighted shouts before clapping you on the shoulder, a knowing smile playing on his lips when he remarks that you’ll definitely face no shortage in material to write about.

Out on the field, the Pledis U team tackles Chan in a huddle, their hollers so loud you can hear them from all the way on the stands. It doesn’t take long before they’re raising him to their shoulders, even tossing him into the air a few times. Yearning blooms in your chest, and you secretly wonder if it’d be appropriate to run down there to celebrate this moment with him.

As though reading your thoughts, Minghao lightly bumps his hip against yours. “Go,” he urges with a grin, “you know you want to.”

“What if he doesn’t want me there, though?”

“He definitely does,” Mingyu reassures, shoving the glittery sign you and Minghao spent all night working on into your hands, “go get him, tiger.”

The smiles on your friends’ faces are all the encouragement you need as you make your way off the grandstands, heart thumping wildly in your rib cage like a rogue drum when you reach the edge of the pitch. You take the first step onto the field, grass crunching under your feet as you make your way towards the team, the sudden realisation that everyone on the spectator stands can see you with your big obnoxious sign has your previously-gained confidence dissipating into thin air little by little.

Yeonjun’s the first to spot you, pulling away from the group huddle with a smirk before exchanging whispers with the guys beside him. Confusion writes itself all over Chan’s face when they abruptly set him down, the look of bewilderment in his eyes melting away when he sees your approaching figure.

He jogs up to you, sweaty purple hair pushed off his forehead and practically glowing with happiness as he beams. “You came,” he breathes out. 

You grin back. “Of course I did. Congratulations, I knew you could do it. Is your ankle feeling okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s okay.” His gaze flickers down to your sign, his smile so wide that it threatens to split his face as the blinding gold ‘GO CHAN’ glitters up at him. “You actually made me one?” 

“Hao helped a lot, you know I’m hopeless with the arts and crafts stuff,” you admit shyly, “think of it as a victory present.” 

“That’s it? Don’t you think I deserve a little more for that last goal?” he teases. 

“Well, what were you thinking of?” 

He steps closer to you with a coy smile. The proximity makes you dizzy, makes you feel like a blushing schoolgirl talking to her crush for the very first time. “Hm, I do happen to have a few ideas...” 

You raise a brow. “Why don’t you show me, then?” 

“I’d prefer if you do it.” 

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” 

Chan tilts his head, challengingly, enticingly. Huh, you never noticed how long his lashes are. “Am I at least your idiot, though?” 

This is it—you’ve truly fallen. Somewhere along the line, traded insults and heated glares evolved into shared giggles and longing glances. Somewhere along the line, you went from hating him with your whole being to making room for him in your heart. 

Somewhere along the line, you’ve fallen for the boy with infectious laughter and endless zest. 

And so when you reach up to cup Chan’s cheek, pulling him in to press your lips to his, you know in your heart that you don’t regret it one bit. 

“See?” he murmurs when you part for air, smiling sweetly as he rests his forehead against yours, “I knew you can never get enough of me.”

“You talk too much, Lee Chan.” 

“You should do something about it.” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. 

a/n: everyone wish my love the bane of my existence a happy birthday or you owe me 20 dollars /j (uh it’s not the 11th anymore where i live but that’s my fault </3) anyways feedback is always highly appreciated and important to me :> so do let me know what you think hehe 💕 thank you for reading besties!!!

[allywritesforfun]

{Cutebur} Wilbur Soot x Reader

summary: we all saw that instagram post right?

pronouns: not mentioned

word count: 827

trigger warning: swearing

https://www.instagram.com/p/CTkPbffCG90/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet

regular masterlist

wilbur masterlist

“Hey that looks like a cool place to take some Instapics!” Wilbur called, pointing at a storage door with skeletons drawn over them.

You nodded, “That would be neat contrast. We got ten minutes to if you want to stop.”

He nodded and sped walked over there. Wilbur wasn't one to take the most aesthetically pleasing pictures. He just asked someone to take a quick shot of him doing something different in his life. But since he met you, well he started caring a little bit more. You taught him a few tips and tricks to making him look like the model he is. You loved helping him out with his social media. He has enough on his plate already.

“Here, darling,” Wilbur handed you his phone as he got into position in front of the door. He fiddled with the bottom of his shirt to make sure that it was perfect while you adjusted the cameras to fit the sunlight. “What poses should I do?”

You shrugged, “It's your Insta, Wil. You do whatever you want. I am just here to make it look decent.” You bent down to one knee, trying to see if you could get neat sun rays filtered in.

You looked up at Wilbur and gave him the thumbs up that you were ready to go. He did his thing while you did yours. You two were the perfect duo. You weren't a professional photographer or anything of the sorts, but you were still pretty damn impressive; and Wilbur was pretty damn impressive to look at. 

You got up from your knee and held the camera slightly above your forehead. It was hard to see what you were taking a picture of, but the angles do matter. Wilbur looked good from all angles but some days he preferred more than his usual. You like to give him variety.

“Work it cutie!” You yelled out to him.

Wilbur smiled at the nickname and looked down for a second, just smiling. He definitely was one for praise. Every little nickname you called him got into his head and displayed itself in a child-like smile.

“Stop looking down and look at me!” You reminded him. If it was one thing that you knew about Instagram, it was the importance of showing your features.

Wilbur continued to smile and looked up at you. His blush was clear as day and he scratched the back of his neck, still calming down from the serotonin rush you gave him. You quick took a picture and brought the phone back down to review it.

It was perfect. You covered your mouth; you were so impressed. You added a quick filter and toned it down, adding a little bit of sharpness and saving it. Wilbur never needed much touch up, he was perfect in every way; it was the background that needed a little help.

You kept staring at the photo; your little angel was so sweet. His innocent smile of happiness, exfoliating his dimples. His soft brown curls swiftly covering his loved-filled deep brown eyes. Best of yet he was all yours. You tucked his phone into your pocket and walked towards him.

“What are you-”

Wilbur was cut off by you wrapping your arms around his torso. He instantly hugged you back, resting his head atop yours. You leaned into him, signaling him to squeeze you tighter. 

“Thank you for letting me love you,” You mumbled into his chest.

You could hear his heart start to speed up, ba, ba, ba. He gently ran his right hand up and down your back and nuzzled into your cheek, “Thank you for coming into my life.” He whispered, “What is this all about?”

You moved your head for that your chin was resting against his chest, looking up at him, “You are so fucking cute. Like-cute doesn't even describe it correctly. Just, whatever good words you can think of, that’s what you are. I just can’t believe I get to go to bed and wake up seeing your beautiful self.”

Wilbur pulled back slightly to kiss your temple, “I could say the same about you.”

You only nodded back. You two stood there for a minute or so, just enjoying each other’s touch. This is one of the rare moments that you two didn't care that you were out in public and looked like some basic couple from a Hallmark movie. Wilbur eventually pulled away, not because he wanted to- no, he wanted this moment to last forever- but because he knew that you weren’t about to give him up.

He placed his hand on your cheek and leaned down to place a forceful and quick kiss on your lips. You tried holding on a little bit longer, but Wilbur softly grabbed your elbows and started to walk away with you.

“I’m guessing you got a good picture?” He asked.

You nodded and took his hand in yours, “The best.”

[ao3komorii]

Tangling with the Lifeguard (Pool Party Sett/Reader)

The Pool Party Sett story is done! I’ve gone with a beach!AU sort of setting where league races exist in a modern-day beach sort of place. Also sorry to any MF or Syndra mains, they don’t really come out the best in this xD Hope you enjoy, and as always, there is a smut warning for the end!

---

The sun was shining high in the sky, crystalline waters lapping against the shore as beachgoers took advantage of the perfect summer day. Taking in the scene from your place in the shade of a tree on the border between the beach and parking lot, you let a smile grace your lips as you mused on just how much this place seemed to not change, even after so many years.

The last time you had set foot on this beach, you had been twelve years old, full of excitement and unaware of the harsh realities of the adult world. Your parents had brought you here for that summer, now thirteen years ago, the beautiful beach an unforgettable experience. You had left after that summer with treasured memories, and a new friend, that same friend the very reason why you had returned to Port Navori beach after so long.

Taliyah had been the same age as you, with fairly lax parents who let her roam the beach by herself, even as the small twelve-year-old she had been. You had bonded instantly, spending almost every day together, and keeping in touch through letters, and later emails and text messages.

You had long said that you had wanted to come back and visit the lively beach town, but the timing hadn’t been right, not until this year.

You were done all your schooling, and had quit your high-stress, low-pay job, and as Taliyah had said on your last phone call, you had no reason not to visit. Her parents had been travelling the world since they retired, so you would have her house all to yourselves.

In your absence, Taliyah had become a fairly accomplished surfer in the local scene, working at an ice cream shop on the beach to support her expensive pursuits. She had been so insistent that you couldn’t find yourself able to refuse her offer; work in the ice cream shop with her in the day, and then spend the rest of your time catching up with each other. You had missed your friend dearly, and had accepted the offer without a second thought.

And now here you were, waiting at the beach’s edge for Taliyah to show up. She had told you to dress for the beach, sounding casual as was her usual, so you had worn a swimsuit with a short, flowy shoulderless dress on overtop. Unwilling to look like a lobster by day’s end, you had carefully layered yourself with sunscreen, and now all you needed was for your friend to get here already. Just when you were about to get out your phone to text her, an excited call of your name had you re-stowing the phone in your bag and looking back to see your friend bounding across the parking lot towards you.

Taliyah, dressed in a two-piece water suit and carrying a tropical-flower-print surfboard, came to a stop before you, leaning her surfboard against a tree to free her arms to tackle you in a hug.

“You’re finally here!” she grinned, surprising you with the strength of her hug. “We’re gonna have so much fun!”

“So what’s first?” you asked as you pulled back from the hug.

Taliyah hummed. “I guess I’ll show you the shop.”

You followed her onto the beach, recognizing the small bright blue building from the pictures she had sent you before. Taliyah took you around the back, fishing a key out of her pocket before unlocking the door and leading you into the small room.

There were large tubs of ice cream in the middle of the room, the walls lined with containers of various toppings and machines. On the back wall from you were two windows, glossy menus pasted to the doors that would display out when they were opened. Upon walking closer to the menu signs, you noticed something.

“Hey, it says we open at nine, but it’s ten-thirty…”

“It’s fine,” Taliyah replied with a shrug. “The owners are pretty chill. If anyone complains, I’ll just tell them I had to train the new employee.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Sometimes you really envied Taliyah’s ability to be so carefree. Her calm energy was a big help for you, having got advice from her on numerous occasions over the years.

Taliyah came over to where you were, eyes flitting boredly to the menu boards before turning her attention back to you. “So I’m thinking we get you taking orders while I make them.”

“Works for me,” you agreed. It certainly sounded easier than figuring out what a poro float was supposed to be. You never knew ice cream stands had such fancy options now, used to the simple menus of ice cream cones and bars back at the shops in your hometown.

You were about to open the order windows when you were stopped by a rustling noise from the back of the store. You turned to see Taliyah digging in a cardboard box in the back corner, pulling out some folded-up fabric that was the same sky blue as the stand.

“Didn’t think you’d get away without an embarrassing uniform, did you?” Taliyah teased, tossing some of her fabric pile your way.

You caught the bundle, unfolding it to find an apron with Poro Palace Frozen Treats in pink bubble letters, little white fuzzy animals dotting the apron. There was an accompanying blue visor hat that looked like something out of a kid’s store. You reluctantly slipped both items of clothing on, looking back to find that Taliyah had done the same.

“Stylish, huh?” she smirked, striking a modelesque pose.

“We look like we work at an amusement park, Tali,” you laughed.

“Feels like it sometimes with all the annoying kids that come by,” she replied. “Okay, you can open it up now.”

Taliyah settled herself down in a chair in front of the section of ice cream tubs, and you reluctantly turned to unlatch and open the windows, unsure of exactly what you were getting yourself into.

The small room lit up with the outside sunlight streaming in from your window to outside, the immediate glare of the sun making you wish you had worn sunglasses.

Almost immediately, the masses were upon you. You noticed a woman with several children in tow who perked up as she laid eyes on you, striding over to you with her children right behind her, pushing each other as they scrambled to be the first one to get over to you.

You heard Taliyah groan behind you. “Get the pen ready. They always have the most annoying orders.”

You rose an eyebrow, but picked up the pen and notepad that sat beside the cash register as the woman came to a stop before you.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for an hour already. You young girls don’t know how hard it is for mothers,” the woman complained, not letting you get a word in edgewise. “Alright, tell her what you want.”

“I want a brownie sundae!” a small boy with blue hair who clearly intended to make full use of his outdoor voice shouted. “But with cotton candy ice cream and pop rocks and I want only blue candies!”

“Uh…” The kid was talking too fast for you to write, but luckily Taliyah had your back, a got it ringing out from behind you.

You weren’t sure how you had managed to get their orders out before they melted, messing up their total several times before Taliyah had to come and help you out. With a last snide look and a fistful of blue napkins, the mother and her little terrors left the stand at last.

“She’s the worst,” Taliyah said, bringing your weary gaze her way as she cleaned off an ice cream scoop. “I accidentally put one red candy in that kid’s sundae once and he screamed until I remade the whole thing!”

You winced. “Feels like we got off easy today.”

“Yeah,” Taliyah agreed. “Helps that they order the same thing every time, so I’ve got some practice.”

“Are they all this bad?” you asked, turning away from the window after seeing no potential customers nearby.

“Not all of them,” she replied with a strained smile. “I swear the heat just brings the jerk out in some of the people here.”

Speaking of jerks… your conversation was interrupted by an impatient-sounding throat clearing noise from behind you. You whirled around to see a redheaded woman with heart-shaped sunglasses and a revealing swimsuit leaning against your counter. She was staring at you like you were gum she had stepped in, flipping some hair over her shoulder when she knew she had your attention.

“Five cherry snowballs,” she said, dropping a few coins on your counter, some of which bounced and hit the floor. “To the red umbrella, thanks ice cream girl.”

Without any further interaction, she turned on her heel and strutted away, hips swinging as she went, leaving you wondering what had just happened.

You slowly turned back to face Taliyah again. “Um, do we usually deliver?”

“Nope,” she answered. “Not to people like that anyways.”

“But…” you protested weakly. You knew Taliyah got away with a lot here, but you didn’t want her to lose her job because some rude girl complained to her bosses. “I’ll just take them over and next time I’ll just say we don’t deliver.”

“Still tempted to put rocks in their snowballs,” Taliyah joked as she set about piling the scoops of red ice.

Soon you had a tray with five cherry syrup-coated piles of shaved ice in little plastic bowls with accompanying little plastic spoons stuck in the side of the dishes.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, heading past Taliyah to the back door, opening it to find yourself back out in the mid-morning heat.

The sand still felt uncomfortably hot underfoot, even with your flip flops on. With how hot it was out, these would have to be delivered as soon as possible to not be a puddle by the time they were eaten. Your only problem was that you had no idea where to go.

The redhead had said that she would be at the red umbrella, but of course nothing at this ice cream stand would be that easy. Standing just outside the hut, you were treated to a veritable rainbow of colored beach umbrellas. You counted at least ten red ones scattered across the beach, none particularly standing out to you. You didn’t have many options, and were forced to go with the most tedious one; checking every red umbrella until you found the girl and her group.

The first umbrella had been a bust, as had the next five. The sixth had led to a sweaty old man who told you that you were just in time to help him sunscreen his back. By the time you had hurriedly fled from that creep, it had been about five minutes of searching, the snowballs on your tray looking considerably droopier than they had been when you had left the shop.

You stared down at the tray of melting treats, unsure of what to do now. Should you go back and have Taliyah remake the snowballs? Try a few more umbrellas and hope you got lucky? You really hadn’t been anticipating this much stress when you had agreed to work here with Taliyah for the summer.

You frowned at the now-more-water-than-ice treats, your decision made. You couldn’t serve these, not as melted as they were. You would go back and help remake them and see if Taliyah had any insight as to which red umbrella was the right one. You turned around to head back to the stand, only to trip on your overheating flip flops and fall forward with a cry.

You had closed your eyes with a flinch as you fell, but opened them with a start as you heard a grunt from right in front of you. Looking up from your position in the burning sand, you felt like your heart was going to stop in your chest.

Standing before you was the most attractive guy you had ever laid eyes on, with fire red hair and a pair of black animal ears that looked soft to the touch. He was dressed in a tight pair of swim shorts, a lightweight red jacket tied around his waist. He had a flower lei around his neck, but that was the only thing that he wore on his top half, his insanely-well-built torso on full display, a torso you realized with horror was currently splattered with red syrup and shaved ice.

You looked from the hot guy to the ground, the sand around you speckled with plastic cups, spoons and napkins, your tray turned upside down in the sand. You slowly risked a gaze back up, only to see the guy staring down at you from behind his pink-tinted sunglasses as a clump of ice fell from his stomach to the sand just in front of your hands.

Embarrassment forced you to spring up, grabbing some stray napkins from the ground and dabbing them against the mess of syrup and ice on the man’s abdomen.

“I’m so sorry, I–” You looked up from your apologizing to see the man silently staring at you, your hand freezing in place as you realized that you were basically feeling this guy up through the napkins, the realization making your cheeks burn with shame and embarrassment.

“I’m really sorry!” you cried out, pulling your hands back. He still hadn’t said anything, and you realized that you couldn’t just stand here like an idiot, your flight instinct kicking in as you reached down to grab your tray before moving around the man and fleeing in the direction of the ice cream stand.

“Hey, wait!”

The man tried to grab your arm as you passed, but you were faster in your embarrassment-fueled retreat, and soon the hot stranger was far behind you. You didn’t stop running until you were back at the shop, the empty sand-logged tray clutched tightly to your chest, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you shut the door, making eye contact with a confused Taliyah.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, getting up to approach you when you didn’t respond. “Talk to me. What happened? If that snob said anything to you–”

“No, no, she didn’t,” you replied weakly, sinking to the floor with your back against the door. “I didn’t even get to her.”

“Then what happened?” she pressed, bringing you a glass of water and prying the tray from your hands at last.

She ushered you to your feet and down into her chair, taking a seat on one of the counters. You took a deep breath, taking a sip of the water before recounting the events of the past ten minutes to Taliyah, who listened silently.

“…I didn’t know what to do, so I just ran,” you finished, setting your water down to bury your face in your hands.

“It’s no big deal,” Taliyah replied gently. “Everyone has embarrassed themselves in front of someone. Remember that time I tripped over my board in front of that group of tourists?”

“I covered him in cherry syrup, Tali,” you groaned. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“It’s your first day,” she stressed. “You’re bound to mess some things up.”

She stood up, returning to the shaved ice machine. “Now how about we remake those snowballs and then I’ll–”

Taliyah had frozen in place, a plastic cup in her hand as she stared straight ahead.

“Tali?” you questioned, standing up. “Are you–”

“That guy you dumped the snowballs on,” she quickly interrupted. “Did he have majorly cut abs and animal ears?”

“Uh, why?” You felt a jolt of fear shoot up your spine as you followed her gaze to see the man from earlier currently approaching the shop, well-defined abdomen now minus the sticky mess you had spilt all over him. “Oh god, it’s him!”

You and Taliyah exchange wide-eyed glances before you dove down out of sight, hiding behind the tubs of ice cream like they were a fortress.

“Please get rid of him!” you begged. “I’ll do whatever you want, I just can’t face him!”

You heard Taliyah sigh. “Fine, but this means you’re coming stone hunting with me tonight.”

You agreed immediately, even if the prospect wasn’t overwhelmingly appealing. Taliyah was always eager to add to her collection of shiny stones, but was so picky that it often took hours to find just one stone that met her standards. But right now you were so desperate that you would have promised her anything just to make the angry hot guy go away.

From your position behind the ice cream tubs, you could only hear Taliyah’s voice clearly, the general noise of the beach preventing you from hearing what the furry-eared man was saying. You wanted to peek out from your hiding spot, but found yourself chickening out. You really didn’t need him catching sight of you and making Taliyah’s job even harder.

You had gotten so in your own head with panic that you had completely tuned out of your surroundings until a hand waved in front of your face and you realized Taliyah was crouching in front of you, calling your name.

“You okay?” she asked worriedly.

“Is he gone?” you replied quietly.

“Yeah, he’s gone,” she confirmed, standing up and grabbing your forearms to pull you up with her. “Now help me remake those snowballs and then I’ll fill you in.”

You bit your lip as you scooped shaved ice into a row of plastic cups as Taliyah readied the cherry syrup. Soon you had five pristine-looking snowballs on your slightly-sandy tray, the sight of them bringing you back to your moment of collision with the cute guy.

The tray was snatched from your field of vision by Taliyah, who headed over to the rear door. “Be back in a few. Try not to freak out too much while I’m gone.”

And then the door was closed and you were left alone. Looking over at the order window, you decided that you were probably safer to just resume your position behind the ice cream tubs, unwilling to risk being out in the open in case the guy decided to come back.

While she was gone, you couldn’t help but fret over exactly what had been said between your best friend and the mysterious hot guy. She didn’t seem to be upset, so clearly their conversation hadn’t been that intense. Or maybe it had; Taliyah was a fairly relaxed person, so it would be difficult for a random angry customer to really get to her. But that didn’t quite make sense either; if he had yelled at her, you would have heard it over the noise of the beachgoers. All you were doing was overthinking yourself to death, exactly what Taliyah had told you not to do.

And it was there you remained until Taliyah returned, closing the door behind her and placing the serving tray in the sink before she turned her attention to you at last.

“Calm down, it’s fine… I think,” she said.

“You think?”

“Well he didn’t seem mad,” she explained. “He asked if a girl that looked like you worked here and I said you went home sick. Said he’d come back another time.”

“Another–” Oh god. Was he really so angry that he was willing to come back just for the chance to yell at you?

“I can see you freaking out,” Taliyah scolded. “Don’t. You’re fine. Musclehead or not, he’s not going to kill you just because you spilled shaved ice on him.”

She was probably right; hot shirtless guys on the beach likely had more important things to do than yelling at clumsy ice cream shop workers. By tomorrow, he would probably forget you ever existed, and you could go back to enjoying your time working alongside your best friend.

 The rock collecting that night had been long and boring, at least for you. Taliyah hadn’t found any rocks she liked enough to take home, only ending the search after she had found some sea glass that she had deemed acceptable to add to her collection. You could only hope that you wouldn’t owe her any more favors any time soon, unsure if you could survive another late night rock hunt.

The next morning, you entered the shop alongside Taliyah, who put her bag down and began to set up the day’s supplies. Considering it was ten minutes past opening time and Taliyah had insisted that she didn’t need help setting up, you decided that you might as well just open the order window for the day, hoping that mom and her group of demon kids wouldn’t be waiting out there, only to unlatch the widows and see something arguably worse.

The window had only been open a peek, but it was enough for you to see the large figure of the man from yesterday standing ten feet or so from your shop, his back facing you as he stared out at the beach. In your brief glimpse, you also noticed that the jacket wrapped around his waist had a white plus sign in a circle as well as the word lifeguard in white blocky letters above it. Oh god, of course you had gone and pissed off a lifeguard on your first day here.

You shut the barely-open windows with a too-loud slam that made you wince before you quickly locked them again and rushed over to Taliyah.

“Tali, he’s here again!” you hissed.

“Huh?” she replied, pausing her task of refilling a container of sprinkles. “Muscle guy?”

You nodded frantically and Taliyah frowned, putting the sprinkles down and approaching the order window herself. You watched as she opened the window ever so slightly, peering out for a few seconds before closing it back up.

“Well… can’t say I was expecting him to actually come back,” she said evenly.

“What do I even do?” you asked, staring at the order windows like they would burst open at any second and reveal you to the clearly-determined lifeguard. “He’s a lifeguard, Tali! What if he bans me from the beach?”

She rolled her eyes in response. “He can’t just ban you from the beach. Lifeguards don’t have that much power. If they did, I would’ve been banned a long time ago for all the times I’ve surfed after hours.”

“Then what does he want with me?” you asked, looking away from the window.

Taliyah shrugged. “You’d have to ask him that.”

“But what if I… don’t?” you replied weakly. “He’ll give up eventually, right?”

“I mean, maybe?” she said. “But it might be easier to deal with him now and get it over with.”

You saw her point, but it wasn’t her that was being pursued by a tall, muscly lifeguard with a vengeance!

Taliyah clearly caught the reluctance on your face and sighed. “Fine, I’ll switch with you for today. Now let’s go over how to make the basic stuff before we open.”

True to her word, Taliyah had allowed you to hide in the back making orders, telling the lifeguard guy that you were off today. You watched him walk away from behind the shaved ice machine, hoping that your ordeal was finally over, but your hopes were quickly dashed the next day as you went to open the store again, only to see the same broad back facing you from just outside the shop.

Taliyah had reluctantly agreed to switch again that day, and the day after. But by day four, even the promise of helping her scavenge for rocks again wouldn’t get her to agree to switch.

You closed the window again, turning to Taliyah with pleading eyes, but she was having none of it.

“It’s been four days,” she said, arms crossed. “Clearly he’s not giving up. You should just see what he wants.”

“But…” The thought still terrified you. You knew you deserved to be yelled at for what you had done, but it was made that much worse by the fact that the subject of your plight was just about the hottest guy you had ever seen.

Taliyah shook her head at you. “Okay, but I’m not doing orders again today, so if you want to keep hiding from him, we’ll have to move onto plan B.”

Plan B, as it turned out, was a mascot suit of sorts; three fluffy poros stacked on top of each other like a snowman. A poro each made up your upper and lower body, the last poro being the head of the costume. You looked incredibly awkward, the arms and legs of the costume hairy and tipped with little brown claws. You were momentarily stunned by the sheer lengths you were going to just to avoid this guy, but you were already in the costume, so you reasoned that you might as well follow through with it now.

Taliyah put the costume’s head on you and your world was plunged largely into darkness, minus the mesh one-way view out of the top poro’s eyes. You were helped to the back door, some fliers for the store shoved into your hands.

Taliyah helped you walk out front, and you were pretty quickly swarmed by kids. You couldn’t see the lifeguard guy, but the relief that coursed through you was short-lived, swallowed by the immediate explosion of business brought on by your costume.

One thing you hadn’t considered in your haste was the heat. You weren’t sure if it was the costume or if today was hotter than usual, but very quickly you found yourself becoming a sweaty mess under the weight of the dense, furry costume.

The longer you were in the costume, the worse you felt, but you were determined to stick this out. So you handed out fliers and posed for photos with children while Taliyah ran the stand.

You wished that you could wipe the sweat from your face, but you weren’t sure if you could even reach up to remove the costume’s head yourself due to the awkward shape of the costume. So you endured the ever-increasing heat, only feeling wearier as the time ticked by.

You waved goodbye to a group of kids as they left with their ice cream cones, the sweltering heat really bearing down on you. As you went to turn and head back to the stand to ask Taliyah to help get the head off, a wave of dizziness crashed over you. You took one step towards the stand, and then another, and then it all went dark as you felt yourself falling forward, too weak to stop your descent to the ground.

 You woke up with a heavy head, feeling foggy with confusion. The last thing you remembered, you had been heading back to the stand…

Immediately, you realized that you weren’t at the ice cream stand, and you weren’t wearing the poro suit, or even your beach dress. Sitting up in the cot you laid in, you found that you were wearing only your swimsuit.

As you sat up, a blue ice pack that you hadn’t realized was there fell from your forehead and into your lap. Picking it up, the pack only feeling slightly cold, you turned to look around the room, still unsure what exactly was going on.

You were in a room of some sort, guessing it was afternoon by the minute amount of light filtering into the room, even through the closed curtains. There was a fan gently whirring above your head, but otherwise the room was silent.

There was another cot beside yours, and a table nearby with a few red first aid kits stacked on it, some bandages messily spilling out of one of them. There was a sign pulled over the door, the side facing you reading come on in, we’re open.

You got up from the bed, shuddering with disgust when you noticed just how sweaty your whole body was. The bed squeaked as you got up from it, your knees hitting a bedside table between the cots that you hadn’t noticed had been there. On the small table was a glass of water, as well as a white fan that was emblazoned with what looked to be a group of cats waterskiing.

You picked up the fan, letting out a small laugh at the silly-looking cartoon cats on the fan. It looked like something you could win at a carnival booth.

“If you can laugh, then I guess you’re feelin’ alright.”

A deep voice from behind you made you jump, fingers fumbling the fan, which fell onto the floor with a clatter that was only made louder in the quiet room. You turned to look behind you, only to fall off the cot in shock when you saw the very lifeguard you had been trying so hard to avoid standing in the doorway of a small office you hadn’t noticed was there.

“Hey, careful!” He quickly crossed the room to squat down in front of you, taking your elbow and helping you back up onto the cot. You were too stunned to resist and found yourself falling into his chest as a wave of dizziness hit you.

“You okay?” he asked, and you tried to nod, but your head was spinning too much to focus. “Hey, hold still.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady against him until you were able to regain your focus. When he was satisfied with your condition, he pulled back, releasing your shoulders and instead reaching out for the glass of water on the table next to you.

“Drink,” he instructed, handing you the cup before standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

He stared at you for a moment before finally turning back and heading into the office at the back of the room.

You watched him go, feeling on edge, but complied, bringing the glass up to your lips and taking a long drink. The last thing you wanted to do was give this guy more reason to be upset with you. You were surprised at just how refreshing the water felt, and you had soon downed the entire glass, placing it back on the table when you were done.

“Alright, lay back down,” the lifeguard instructed as he returned.

“What?” you replied. What was he going to do to you? How had you even got here? Where was Taliyah?

He stopped before you, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down at your shaky, terrified form. “Are you–”

“I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, bowing your head. “I didn’t mean to spill the snowballs on you! If you need to yell at me, go ahead. I’m sorry I didn’t just come out sooner and–”

It had occurred to you mid-ramble that he had yet to say anything, and you cut off your babbling, slowly looking up to find him staring at you with what you could only describe as a bewildered look on his face.

He blinked. “Is that why–”

“I’m so sorry!” you interrupted, bowing your head again. “If you want to ban me from the beach, I get it!”

“Ban ya from the beach?” he replied with a bark of laughter. “The only thing I wanted to do was get your number.”

“My… what?” You had to be hallucinating. There was no way he had just said that.

“Lay down first,” he spoke sternly, and you complied, still feeling stunned by his words.

Once you were laid down, he picked something up from the bed, which you recognized as another ice pack. He placed it on your forehead, the cool pack immediately flooding you with a feeling of relief. Closing your eyes, you let out a tired sigh, suddenly feeling fatigued.

“Get some rest, princess. We’ll talk when you’re up again.”

You took his advice, the cooling from the ice pack lulling you back to sleep, your eyelids too heavy to keep open.

When you woke up again, you felt infinitely better, your head clearer and body feeling less overheated. The ice pack on your forehead was room temperature, and it was now dark outside. There was a light illuminating your left side as you sat up in bed, turning to see the office in the back with its light on.

The cot squeaked under you, which was responded to by the squeak of a chair from inside the office, the red-haired lifeguard emerging from the office and approaching your bedside.

“Feelin’ any better?” he asked, and you nodded, biting your lip nervously. “Got you some more water.”

You looked over to the bedside table to see the water cup refilled and took hold of it, grateful to have something to focus on other than the intimidatingly muscular man before you.

You drank the entire glass before you forced yourself to finally address the situation before you. “Um… why am I here?”

“You passed out,” he replied bluntly, taking a seat on the cot next to yours. “Overheated yourself in that rat costume.”

“They’re not rats, they’re poros,” you replied, unsure of what to say.

He let out a huff of laughter. “Poros that important to you that you’re willin’ to fry yourself for ‘em?”

“No, that was…” you trailed off. Well, you might as well just admit it. If he had gone out of his way to care for you after you had passed out like an idiot, then he deserved the truth. “I was avoiding you. I was scared you were going to yell at me. My friend didn’t want to keep covering for me at the window so I decided to wear that stupid poro costume.”

“So that’s what that was about,” he replied. “And here I thought you were avoidin’ me ‘cuz you weren’t interested. Gave up on gettin’ your number and then got news that someone passed out from heat stroke.”

You were still having a hard time comprehending the asking for your number part, so you instead chose to focus on the other half. “Heat stroke?”

“Not sure what you expected, wearin’ that costume in this heat,” he said. “Can’t say nobody’s ever been afraid of me before, but giving themself heat stroke just to avoid me is a new one.”

He sounded somewhat self-deprecating, and you immediately felt bad. You had clearly misjudged him, and realized that he hadn’t even mentioned the snowball incident himself.

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, even with as awkward as you were currently felt. “I’m sorry for giving you so much trouble, and for spilling snowballs all over you. I’m just really sorry.”

He laughed. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for. I’ve had worse get on me since I started workin’ here, and usually it ain’t from a cute girl.”

You tensed in your seat, tearing your gaze from his to look down at your feet, your cheeks feeling warm.

“Hey, don’t go overheatin’ yourself again,” he scolded, standing up from the bed. “If you’re not interested, that’s fine, but I think it’s best if I take ya home. Don’t need your friend yellin’ at me again if you pass out on the way back.”

As much as you wanted to deny his assertion of you being not interested, you couldn’t muster up the courage, so you instead quietly accepted his offer of help. You would have to ask Taliyah what he had meant when you got back.

It was surprisingly cold on the beach at night, the icy breeze sending shivers along your skin. You stared out at the dark ocean waves, entranced by the water crashing against the sand, when your focus was broken by some soft fabric being laid over your shoulders.

You turned to look over your shoulder to see Sett just behind you on the steps of the lifeguard office, the jacket that was usually around his waist now laying on your shoulders.

He caught your curious look and raised an eyebrow. “You nearly cooked yourself to death today, I ain’t about to let you freeze yourself to death now.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly, reaching a hand up to keep the jacket around your shoulders.

Your feet met the soft sand as you followed Sett towards the parking lot. The beach was totally empty, an odd contrast to how things were in the daytime. It felt weird to actually see the shape of the landscape unobscured by giant beach umbrellas and a sea of bodies. You only looked away from the empty scene when you realized that you had left the sand, and Sett was staring expectantly at you.

“…what?” you asked, getting the feeling that he had said something that you had missed.

“Which way?” he repeated with a quick glance at the street ahead of you.

“Oh right,” you replied. “My friend lives on Sandstone Way.”

Sett’s ears perked up. “By that tacky souvenir shop?”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Right by there.”

You giggled at Sett’s assessment; you had noticed the eye-hurtingly brightly painted store when Taliyah had walked you to her house from the train station. She had rolled her eyes at the store as you surveyed the display of t-shirts with embarrassing designs on them, stating that sometimes they got some good rocks in, but it wasn’t worth the amount of tourists always asking for directions when she was walking around the neighborhood.

Looking over at Sett out of the corner of your eye, you were struggling to think of anything to say. He was dressed in just his sandals and shorts, his sunglasses forgone and giving you a clear look at his golden eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.

“So this your first summer here?” Sett asked, breaking the brief silence as you walked side by side. “I know I’d remember you if I’d seen ya before.”

“I was here for a summer when I was a kid,” you answered. “But everything looks so different now. Maybe I just saw this place differently when I was a kid.”

“Nah,” he dismissed. “It never used to be this busy here. Tourists bring money to this place, but it means it’s always loud around here.”

The conversation was slowly helping you feel more comfortable with the intimidatingly handsome lifeguard. You felt dumb for putting so much energy into avoiding him.

“So have you always lived here?” you asked.

“Born and raised,” he answered with a grin that you couldn’t help but feel looked a little sad. “Ma used to work at the boating shop… and the laundromat… and the candy store.”

“All at the same time?” you asked incredulously.

Sett shrugged. “Didn’t have much of a choice. Pa ran off on us when I was a kid, and it wasn’t like anyone would hire a fatherless runt to work for them.”

“Sounds like it was hard,” you replied. “Did you ever find out where he went?”

“For his sake, I’d better not,” Sett sneered. “I heard ma cry missin’ that scumbag more times than I can count. There ain’t a family here for that bastard to come back to.”

“How is your mom doing?” you asked as you turned onto Sandstone Way, passing by the tacky tourist shop, the flashy paint on the walls too bright even at night.

“She’s doin’ good,” he answered, finally looking happy with a satisfied smile. “Got her to quit her jobs when I started workin’ enough to pay the bills.”

“You’re a good son,” you complimented him. “She’s lucky to have you.”

You smiled at him, coming to a stop before Taliyah’s house. “Well, this is me. Thanks for walking me back.”

“Take care of yourself,” he said. “I don’t wanna see you passin’ out again.”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied. “No more poro costumes for me.”

“On that topic,” he purred, leaning closer to you. “You never gave me an answer.”

“An answer?” you squeaked, flustered by his sudden closeness.

“I’ve been tryin’ to get your number for days now,” he replied, and you did your best to supress a shiver from running up your spine. Was this real life?

You wet your lips with your tongue nervously, unable to miss how Sett’s sharp eyes watched the movement.

“I, um, I don’t have my phone on me,” you said, immediately realizing how dumb you sounded. You didn’t need your phone on you to tell him your number! You hastily made to amend your statement. “…but if you come by the stand tomorrow, I’ll give it to you!”

“Oh?” Sett’s grin was wide, gold eyes flashing dangerously. “I s’pose I could find some time to stop by. See you then, sweetheart.”

Sett turned to walk away, but you stopped him with a call of his name. “Wait, your jacket–”

“Keep it for the night,” Sett replied. “I’ll get it from you tomorrow.”

You reluctantly agreed, stunned silent by his bold flirting, his jacket sitting warm on your shoulders as you watched him walk away. You stared at his broad back until he was out of sight, only then turning to head inside, knowing Taliyah would be waiting.

 The next morning she was still on you as you spent some extra time getting ready.

“I still can’t believe he gave you his jacket,” she teased with a grin. “I mean, I figured he was probably into you, but–”

“You what?” you replied as you paused styling your hair.

“I kept telling you to talk to him,” she replied. “No guy like that is going to wait outside your work for days in a row just to yell at you for spilling ice on him. But I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

“I just feel so stupid giving myself heat stroke just go avoid him,” you lamented.

“Yeah,” Taliyah frowned. “If I had realized it was that hot out, I never would’ve let you go out in that thing.”

“It’s my own fault for being so dumb,” you insisted.

“But hey, it all worked out, didn’t it?” Taliyah grinned as she slipped on her water shoes. “You’ve got a hot lifeguard coming to visit you at work today.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m still super nervous,” you said, adjusting your beach dress over your most flattering swimsuit.

“You’ll be fine,” Taliyah replied. “He’s clearly super into you. You should’ve seen him when you passed out yesterday.”

“What?” You had been so tired last night that you had only told her the basics before crashing for the night, completely forgetting to ask her what had happened yesterday.

“Someone got him when you collapsed,” she told you. “You should’ve seen his face when he pulled off the poro head and saw it was you inside the costume! I tried to come with, but he told me he’d handle it. I maaay have threatened his life if anything happened to you, but just a little.”

You laughed. So that’s what Sett had been referring to.

Taliyah came up from behind you as you stared at your appearance in the mirror, resting her chin on your shoulder and meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Relax, you look great. Fuzzy ear boy isn’t gonna know what hit him!”

“Fuzzy ear–” you sputtered, laughing at Taliyah’s choice of words. “I guess his ears do look pretty fuzzy.”

“Well if he lets you pet them, tell me how soft they are!” she teased, pulling back from you to grab her bag. “Now let’s go. You’ve got a boy to meet!”

You somehow felt even more nervous today than you had the few days you had spent avoiding Sett. You were still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that a guy that looked like he had walked straight out of a fireman’s calendar was coming to your little beachfront ice cream stand for the sole purpose of getting your phone number. And his jacket, which was folded neatly on the countertop beside you.

You weren’t exactly sure when he was going to come. Usually, he would be there waiting outside in the morning before you opened, but all you had opened up to today was a sparsely-populated beachfront, no handsome lifeguards to be seen. By two in the afternoon, your anxiety had begun to get the better of you.

“Stop pacing,” Taliyah scolded you. “He’ll be here.”

“But what if he decided not to?” you said, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “What if this was just a joke?”

“Then I’ll go kick his butt,” she responded plainly. “He’ll come. Relax.”

You were about to reply, when a ding of the service bell at the order window had you spinning around, ready to take an order, only for the words to die on your lips when you laid eyes on the well-muscled lifeguard with the fuzzy black ears just outside the order window, sending a grin your way.

“Here to pick up my order,” he said, leaning an arm against the window.

“Your… order?” you replied, too entranced by his appearance to properly make use of your brain.

“A pretty girl promised me her number if I came by,” he replied, looking down at you through his sunglasses.

“I… right… I…” You turned back quickly to see Taliyah staring expectantly at you, mouthing the word number at you. Right.

With slightly shaky hands, you reached for the small notepad at the front counter, taking that and a pen in hand and trying not to focus on the fact that Sett was watching you as you began to write.

Double-checking that the number was right, you handed the paper to him, your fingers touching as he took it from you. Remembering about your other promise, you reached over to grab the lifeguard jacket from the counter beside you. You went to hand him his jacket, surprised when he didn’t take it from you.

“What time do you get off?” he asked, and you answered a quiet six. “Give it back to me then.”

With a short wave and a grin, Sett made a show of stowing the phone number in his pocket before sauntering off and leaving you standing there slack-jawed.

“See? Was that so hard?” Taliyah called from her seat at the ice machine. “Now you just have to keep it together for your date.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you said, leaning back against the counter.

“You did last night, didn’t you?” she countered. “He’s just a guy. A really hot guy, but still. Don’t freak yourself out. You deserve a nice guy. It’s just a bonus that he has more abs than spiders have legs!”

You let out an amused huff. Taliyah was right, as she always was. You needed to get over yourself and let yourself have a good time tonight.”

But for now, you had customers to deal with. You and Taliyah let out a shared groan as you saw the nightmare mom and her army of brats heading towards you. You both returned to your posts, hoping their overly-complicated orders would be right on the first try this time.

 Taliyah let out a yawn, stretching her arms high above her head before beginning the process of cleaning up for the day. After the last customer left, you hastily closed the order window, not wanting to give anyone the chance to come and beg about how it was only five minutes past closing and they’ve been wanting a banana split all day. You had learned your lesson from that mistake on day two.

Once the order windows were closed and locked, you joined Taliyah at the side counter, helping to return all the different containers of toppings to their rightful places. You found your hands moving slower, your nerves slowing you down in order to prolong the inevitable.

Taliyah eventually got tired of your pitiful attempt at stalling for time and gently removed the container of blue sprinkles from your grasp. “Just go, I’ll finish up here.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, and Taliyah sent you an unimpressed look. “Okay, fine, I’m going, I’m going.”

“I hope you know I expect all the details later!” she grinned as you made your way to the door, hesitating with your hand on the door handle for only a moment before opening the door.

It was mercifully less warm outside today than it had been yesterday, not to mention that you were also minus a heavy mascot costume. Yesterday hadn’t ended too badly for you, but you would still prefer to not end today in a hospital if you exacerbated your current heat-sensitive state.

You weren’t sure if you preferred if Sett was already there, or if you got there first to wait for him; neither option seemed to abate your nerves. But of course, the lifeguard was prompt as always, leaning against one of the beams that held up the awning above the order window.

You didn’t think you had been making much noise walking along the sand, but he seemed to hear you, turning to face you with a grin as you approached.

“Ready?” he asked as you came to a stop before him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear in an effort to keep your cool.

“Yeah,” you answered, impressed that your voice hadn’t come out squeaky with how nervous you were.

“Good,” he replied, before his grin turned teasing. “Was half expectin’ ya to come on our date in that rat costume.”

“Poro!” you corrected again, trying not to get flustered by his mention of this being a date. You weren’t sure what else it would be, but you couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach when he had acknowledged the obvious.

He surprised you by taking your hand, pulling you along with him as you tried desperately not to stumble and fall into the sand.

The beach crowd was beginning to thin out, people heading home or to one of the many beachfront restaurants nearby. Watching as a kid packed up his sand toys, you wondered if one of those restaurants was where you were headed as well. Sett hadn’t told you anything about what the plan was, and you found yourself curious when he led you to the bright white lifeguard office.

At first, you had thought that maybe he had forgotten something, at least until you followed him into the small building to see what looked to be the table that had previously held all the first aid kits, now decked out in a soft-looking purple picnic blanket. On top of the makeshift picnic table was a spread of various tasty-looking finger foods, the scene completed by two chairs pulled up to the table, cushions with a starfish pattern placed on the seats.

You were perhaps too dumbfounded by the sight, as you snapped out of it to Sett calling your name, looking over at him to see him looking surprisingly tense. You should probably say something, you realized.

“It looks great,” you said, meaning every word as you looked over the table. “Are those cabbage rolls?”

“Ma helped me make ‘em,” Sett explained, looking bashful for the first time since you had met him as he raised an arm to scratch at the back of his neck. “Helped me with all of this, actually. Never done anythin’ like this before.”

“You mean a picnic?” you asked curiously.

Sett chuckled. “Picnics. Dates. Not a lotta women ‘round here who wanted anythin’ to do with a fatherless half-breed.”

You had a hard time believing that; you had noticed several mothers checking him out as they packed their family’s stuff to leave the beach. But the hint of something sad in his eyes made you reconsider. You had no memory of seeing someone like him that summer you had spent here, but it wasn’t like that was a surprise to you. You and Taliyah had been in your own little world at that time, only ever spending time with each other.

“Well I’m excited to try your cooking,” you said, figuring a change of subject was for the best.

Sett grinned as he sat down. “Should be decent. Haven’t poisoned anyone since high school.”

Your eyes widened, hand freezing on its path to grab a cabbage roll, startled eyes darting to his.

Sett let out a bark of laughter at your alarmed face. “Relax. Wouldn’t poison ya. Maybe those kids that keep swimmin’ into the boating zone, but not you.”

“Thanks… I think?” you replied, biting your lip as you stared down at the cabbage rolls, weighing your options.

“Wasn’t real poison anyways,” he scoffed, taking some rolls from himself. “Not my fault sugar and salt look the same.”

You laughed, grabbing some food for yourself at last. “I suppose they kinda do.”

“Ma didn’t wanna hurt my feelings, but I knew when I tried some myself,” he explained.

“It was nice of her to try,” you offered.

“Too nice,” he said. “Ma is always too nice. Never said anythin’ bad about my old man, even after what he did. Had to work three jobs for years because of that bastard, but not a word.”

“Well I’m sure she’s glad she has you,” you commented. “Even if you give her food poisoning sometimes.”

“Once,” he corrected, taking a bite. “Learned my lesson the first time.”

You followed his lead, finding the food to be entirely poison-free, and actually the best home-cooked meal you had eaten in a long time. The conversation moved to swapping work stories, and you were unsurprised to find out that the mother and her the demon children had been a thorn in Sett’s side as well.

“They really buried sleeping sunbathers in sand?”

“Five times in a day one time,” Sett grouchily confirmed. “Last time Braum went to handle it. Said I would bury those little assholes under the sand if I had to go yell at them one more time.”

You sympathized with his pain. You felt lucky that you had only experienced the tip of the annoyingness iceberg with that group of little terrors.

“Braum?” you inquired as you both left the lifeguard office, the beach now fully dark.

“Fellow lifeguard,” he answered, nonchalantly taking your hand in his as you made your way off the beach. “Bald, giant moustache, even bigger than me. Better at the whole gentle-but-firm thing than I am.”

“Oh, I think I’ve seen him before. He comes by for poro pops sometimes,” you said, mind drawing a picture of the surprisingly friendly man in the small purple swim bottoms with a weakness for poro-shaped ice pops. “So are you the head lifeguard then?”

Sett considered your question. “Guess I am the boss of ‘em. All of the other lifeguards are always comin’ at me with problems to solve. The extra pay doesn’t hurt either if I wanna keep momma from feelin’ like she has to work.”

“Say thank you to her from me for the dinner. It was really good,” you said as you passed by the familiar tacky souvenir shop.

“She’ll be happy to hear it,” he replied with a soft smile that made your heart thump in your chest. “I know she wishes she had more to cook for than just me.”

You both came to a stop before Taliyah’s house, and you sneakily glanced over just to make sure Taliyah wasn’t peeking out from a window, which she wasn’t. You turned your focus back to Sett, only to find him closer than he had just been. How was he so good at sneaking up on you?

A large hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek, and your face was tilted up towards Sett’s. You were glad it was dark out, because otherwise you knew your reddening cheeks would be obvious.

“Still afraid of me?” he asked, voice low, lips so close to yours that you could make out a small scar that crossed over his bottom lip.

“No,” you answered, making no move to pull away as you stared up into his eyes. “Not unless I was about to taste your high school cooking.”

“Smart,” he replied with a smirk. “But I’m talkin’ about right now, because if you don’t turn and run into that house, I’m gonna kiss you.”

Your bag almost tumbled from your grasp, but you held fast as you stared at Sett, whose own had already become half-lidded. You had no words to describe how much you didn’t want to run right now, so you didn’t use any, instead angling your face further upwards, trying to make your willingness abundantly clear.

With a grin, he leaned down and kissed you.

Pulling back slightly, he dove back in, his other hand coming to your waist to pull you against him. You happily leant into him, your hands on his firm chest.

When he pulled back again, you opened your eyes at last, feeling almost as dizzy as right before you had passed out from heat stroke.

Sett looked content, and you were only hoping you looked half as composed as he did right now. He leaned back in to give you one more peck before pulling back from you entirely, the cold from the air outside immediately apparent as soon as you were minus his warm hands against your skin.

“Think I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he said. “Been cravin’ a cherry snowball for some reason lately.”

 Sett was a man of his word, you learned, though you were less happy to see him the next day when he asked if he could order a cherry snowball served like last time, and then laughed as you had proceeded to sputter like a broken machine.

His visits became daily, sometimes bringing Braum with him, who continued to surprise you with the sheer amount of poro pops he was able to consume in one sitting. Quite a few nights a week, you had found yourself all around Port Navori with the half-Vastayan lifeguard. You were surprised at how supportive Taliyah was being, considering you had originally come here to spend time with her.

“Gives me more time to surf,” she answered with a shrug when you had asked her. “And maybe that boyfriend of yours can convince you to stay here after the summer is over.”

“Boyfriend?” you yelped, and Taliyah raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t? I thought he would have made it official by now. It’s been over two weeks… have you guys even done it?”

“Taliyah!” you scolded her, switching back to professional mode as a group of people approached the stand.

As you helped prepare their orders, you couldn’t help but think about what she had said. You and Sett had kissed quite a lot actually, but he had yet to do more than that. But it was far too embarrassing a subject for you to have the confidence to broach, so you had resolved yourself to just be content with things as they were.

It was just your luck that right then was when Sett had decided to make his daily visit to the stand, approaching the counter as the other group left.

Taliyah apparently wasn’t done pestering you for the day as she sped to meet him at the counter before you could get there yourself.

“Hey!” she greeted Sett with a sly smile as you stood frozen behind her, nervous about her motivations. “You’re on your break, right?”

Sett raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“Well,” she said, in the voice you knew meant that she wanted something. “There’s a surfing contest I entered, and it’s almost my turn and it won’t even take that long and–”

“Tali!” you interrupted, rushing over to the counter.

“All I need is an hour,” Taliyah insisted, before pulling you beside her at the counter. “And she needs some help while I’m gone since lunchtime is when most of the people come by.”

“I’m fine, I–”

“I’m in,” Sett cut in, eyeing you with almost palpable smugness.

“Awesome!” Taliyah replied, immediately shucking her apron and hat onto the floor in her haste to get out the door. “Have fun, see you after I win!”

“Taliyah!”

Your call of her name fell on deaf ears as she already had her board and was out the door, leaving you standing at the counter with Sett still leaning against the counter.

Sett reached up to pull his sunglasses off, tucking them into his packet, his golden eyes fully uncovered and sparkling with mischief, the sight alone making you feel weary.

“Well? You gonna invite me in?” he asked. “Not sure I’d fit through the window.”

You scrambled to meet him at the back door, not wanting him to try and get into the shop through the order window that was less wide than he was. It was a strange feeling to open the back door of the shop to a guy that was almost too tall for the doorway, and another thing entirely to try and corral him into behaving as you tried to keep the ice cream stand functioning while Taliyah was gone.

“Aren’t lifeguards supposed to set a good example for others?” you huffed, wiping ice from your apron. At least he hadn’t made things truly equal and put cherry syrup on the ball of shaved ice he had pressed against your neck.

“Not when I’m off the clock,” he answered. “Besides, it’s my once in a lifetime chance to see what workin’ one of these is like.”

It would definitely be only one time if you had anything to say about it. If the almost-hour with him here had taught you anything, it was that Sett was not cut out to work in an ice cream shop.

The scoops of ice cream he doled out were easily twice the size of the ones Taliyah did, which made for happy customers, but a less happy bottom line if he was here for more than an hour. He was also lacking Taliyah’s patience, and you were forced to sideline him when an especially picky middle-aged woman came by who insisted you remake her smoothie four times until it had an acceptable pH level. The woman’s complaints had miraculously stopped the moment Sett had approached the window himself, becoming so invested in flirting with the handsome lifeguard that she had snatched her next smoothie attempt from you without complaint, not even glancing your way as she batted her eyes at him, only leaving when he excused himself with an excuse of needing to make more orders.

You approached Sett to check on him and found yourself pulled down into his lap as he leaned back in the chair.

Huffing, he pulled you against him, nuzzling against your neck. “Don’t know how you deal with that. Couldn’t pay me to make her damn smoothie one more time.”

“You get used to it,” you replied. “Don’t you deal with worse as a lifeguard?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “But nothin’ sayin’ I gotta be nice when I deal with ‘em.”

“That’s true,” you laughed.

“If anyone complains, they can go somewhere else. Ain’t another beach within a hundred miles as well-run as this one,” he bragged, kissing at your neck.

As much as you were enjoying his sudden affection, you knew time was running low until Taliyah would return. You made to pull back to tell Sett that, but were instead pulled into a kiss that took you a few breathless moments to find the strength to escape.

“This Friday,” he murmured, face inches from yours. “There’s a party at the pool. You should come with me.”

You had heard about the exclusive pool parties on this beach from Taliyah, but hadn’t expected to ever get an invite. The pool, which was at the far end of the beach from the ice cream stand, was as exclusive as it got. Gated with walls so high that you couldn’t see in, it was the membership-only place to be for all of the elite in the beach town of Port Navori.

“Is that… okay?” you asked hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he countered, and you didn’t really have an answer. “It’ll be fine. Come. Have some people I wanna introduce ya to.”

The door burst open at the same time as you nodded your agreement, revealing Taliyah clutching both her dripping board as well as a shiny blue ribbon.

“You won?” you asked, trying to disentangle yourself from Sett, who reluctantly let you up.

“Easily!” Taliyah gloated. “Nobody else stood a chance. So how were things here?”

“The money ain’t worth the drama of this place,” Sett griped.

Taliyah laughed. “Smoothie lady come back with a vengeance?”

“I’ll take kids buryin’ sunbathers up to their ears over this any day,” he replied with a grimace, standing up and stretching.

At his mention of ears, Taliyah had brought both hands up to her own head about where Sett’s were on his head, and you quickly waved at her to cut it out before he saw. Thankfully she did, but you could tell that you were going to get asked if you had pet his ears yet as soon as his fuzzy ears were out of earshot.

“I’ll text ya the time when I know it,” Sett said, giving you a quick kiss on the head and a two-fingered salute to Taliyah before heading out the back door.

“So?” Taliyah asked, pulling the chair up to the ice cream station after she had stashed her prize ribbon in her bag. “Are they as soft as they look?”

“I didn’t pet them,” you answered.

“It’s been over two weeks!” she complained. “Has he at least asked you to be his girlfriend yet?”

You shook your head. “He did invite me to a pool party with him on Friday at that fancy pool.”

“Really?” Taliyah responded, eyes wide. “You have to tell me what it’s like! I mean, I’ve seen satellite photos, but it’s not the same…”

“I’ll probably be too nervous to remember any of it,” you grumbled.

“This is your chance!” Taliyah encouraged. “By Friday it’ll be three weeks. You need to ask him if he sees you as his girlfriend or not.”

You reeled back, waves of anticipatory anxiety rolling over you. “I don’t want to scare him off. What if this is just casual to him and I’m too dumb to see it?”

“Then you’ll know,” she replied. “I know you. It’ll eat you up if you put this much energy into a guy without knowing how he feels about you. So ask. If he says no, then at least you’ll have an entire store’s worth of ice cream to drown yourself in after!”

Taliyah was right. She was always right. You knew that you couldn’t keep whatever this was up without knowing where you stood with him. The more time you spent with Sett, the more you wanted, and if he intended to keep things casual, you would rather know sooner so you could make an informed decision.

So that would be the plan then. Go to the party, have a good time (and get some photos of the pool for Taliyah) and then ask Sett about the state of your relationship. Sounded easy in theory. You could only hope you could muster up the courage to go through with the plan when the time came.

 After hearing that the party was to start at four, Taliyah had gone all out, closing the stand at two so she could help you get ready to impress the snobs. You hadn’t put up too much of a fight, happy to have her help and her company, as your nerves only climbed higher the closer it got to four o’clock.

“You’ll be fine,” Taliyah said as she styled your hair. “You’ll only feel worse if you don’t get an answer from him. And with how good you’ll look at the party, he won’t be able to say no!”

“Thanks, Tali,” you replied gratefully. “I promise I’ll get you a bunch of photos of the pool. And whatever else you want.”

“What I want is for you to stay here for good,” she said. “So really I’m just doing myself a favor by helping you. This place has been a hundred times more bearable since you’ve been here, and I want it to stay that way.”

“Still,” you persisted. “I feel bad that you’re going to so much trouble. If you want anything, just let me know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Taliyah dismissed with a wave of her hand. “You should get going, don’t wanna be late to the fancy pool party.”

She practically shoved you out the door, and then you were alone, walking down the mostly-empty sidewalk. As you walked along the street, you couldn’t help but dwell on the possibilities. What would happen at the party? What would Sett say?

If he told you that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, what would you do? It was hard to have an answer for until you were in the moment, since a lot of it would depend on what Sett’s answer would be.

You walked through the parking lot, and then onto the beach, passing by kids building sandcastles and games of beach volleyball as you walked towards the end of the beach where the pool was. As you made your way to the fancier end of the beach, you began to notice the differences that marked the split between here and the side of the beach that you were usually on.

The shops on this side of the beach were much fancier, the sand littered with designer beach chairs and umbrellas. It was crazy just how different two ends of one beach could be.

The pool was noticeable from a great distance, or at least the wall white walls that surrounded it were. At least you weren’t going to get lost and miss the party entirely.

You approached the pristine white stairs that led from the beach up to the pool entrance, equal parts excited and apprehensive. The entrance was an open doorway, covered by a deep blue curtain and guarded by a muscled bouncer in white. The sight alone was intimidating; why hadn’t you just asked Sett to meet you beforehand?

You plastered a reluctant smile on your face before approaching the man. “Hi, I–”

“Name,” he interrupted, not looking up from his clipboard, sunglasses too dark for you to see his eyes.

Well it wasn’t like you hadn’t expected some level of standoffishness from the elite side of the beach. Keeping your smile up, you told him your name, waiting the prerequisite few moments for him to leaf through the list.

He seemed to have found what he was looking for, as his hand with the clipboard went to his side and he moved over to the curtain, pulling it to one side to allow you to enter. He had said nothing further, but seemed to be staring in your direction, so you took that as your cue and walked towards the now-open entryway and into the pool.

The entryway led into a hallway with pristine white walls, soft lighting hanging overhead. You could begin to hear chatter as you got closer to the end of the hallway, exiting into an explosion of sight and sound.

The pool was huge, and there seemed to be an intricate gold pattern on the tiles at the bottom. The pool was surrounded by lounge chairs and umbrellas, tropical foliage bordering the inner walls around the pool.

There were people all over, in and out of the pool. There was also a bar in the center which seemed to be very popular, as many people were carrying around intricate-looking cocktails.

More than the scenery or the people, your eyes were scanning the area for Sett. You checked your phone again to make sure, finding that it was the time he had told you to be here for. Maybe he was just running late or…

Your rising concern was broken up by the tap of designer wedges on the granite heading your way. You looked up from your phone to see two girls heading towards you, one of which you realized you had seen before.

The stuck-up redhead that had been the reason you had been out on the beach to spill the snowball on Sett in the first place was striding towards you, not a hair out of place underneath her likely-expensive sun hat. At her side was a lilac-haired woman in a swimsuit with a plunging neckline that was color blocked with various shades of purple. Together they made quite a striking pair, but your previous encounter with the redhead had you wishing that Sett would get here soon to save you from the impending conversation.

“Look, Sarah,” the purple-haired one sneered as they came to a stop before you. “So eager to pretend she’s one of us that she rushed right over.”

You took a step back, but that only seemed to embolden them.

Sarah lowered her sunglasses, staring at you like you were in her way. “Sad when they don’t know their place, Syndra.”

“Sett invited me here,” you replied defensively.

The women exchanged a pointed look before Sarah raised an eyebrow at you, a hand on her hip. “You ever think about why that was?”

“What?” you replied, unsure of what she was getting at.

“She doesn’t get it,” Syndra said with a cruel undertone in her voice that unnerved you.

“Look around,” Sarah said sharply. “Really look. Do half the people here look like they belong?”

You looked around, not sure what you were supposed to be seeing. A man with a hook-nose sat at the pool bar, flanked by women in skimpy bikinis. A humanoid form that seemed to be made of water conversed poolside with a large purple man in a ratty straw hat who was holding a ukulele. What were you supposed to be noticing?

“Sett is too nice to break it to you, so the job falls to me,” Sarah said with a smirk. “This is our annual loser fest. Charity case race. Bring-a-freak-to-work-day.”

“Pig party,” Syndra supplied.

“Yeah, pig party,” Sarah repeated, noticing your confused look. “Don’t know what that is? Poor thing.”

“I don’t–”

“It’s pretty simple,” Sarah interrupted. “We take half the summer to find the biggest freak we can, and then we bring them all together and crown a winner, and by the looks of you, Sett is really going for the top prize.”

You gasped, eyes wide, suddenly feeling like you were going to be sick.

“Aw, you really thought he liked you, huh?” Syndra mocked with fake sweetness.

“He didn’t… he never…” you stammered, clutching your bag to your chest.

“Well duh,” Sarah replied haughtily. “He wanted to win. Do you tell a pig when it’s about to become bacon?”

“What is meaning of this?” Braum accused, storming up to your group. “I have not heard of such a thing!”

“Need-to-know, Braum,” Syndra dismissed.

“And you didn’t need to know,” Sarah added.

You felt numb. This whole time… is that why Sett wouldn’t ask you to be his girlfriend? Why he never did more than kiss you? All this time, he had just seen you as a prize pig for an ugly date contest? It all made sense now, why he had been so desperate to get your number. He had never liked you… it had all been one sick joke. You should’ve known; nobody as attractive as Sett would ever see you as anything but a freak. And was too cowardly to come and tell you the truth to your face.

“Look, she’s crying,” Syndra taunted. “Don’t cry! Soon you’ll be queen pig!”

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stay here with all these people who saw you as less than human as your heart was breaking into pieces. You were so, so stupid, now wanting nothing more than to cry in peace. So you did, turning and running as fast as your legs would take you out of this awful place.

“Bye, piggy! We’ll ship you the ribbon!”

You heard Braum shout your name, as well as the cruel laughter of the women, but you didn’t stop running. Not when you got to the beach, nor the parking lot or the tacky souvenir shop, the sayings on the gaudy shirts too blurry to read through your tears. Your feet didn’t stop until you were at the doorstep to Taliyah’s home, out of breath, tears running down your cheeks.

The door opened, Taliyah’s face appearing in the doorway. “Hey, did you forget– wait, what happened?”

 “Settrigh, stay still!”

Sett frowned, but did as his momma requested, allowing her to tie the ends of his hair after she had finished arranging it. He loved his ma dearly, but he really didn’t have time for her to redo his hair ten times right now.

It was getting way too close to the start time he had given you, and with how nervous of a person you were, he had intended to be on time, but that was before his mother had discovered the reason why he was cutting their visit short today.

Ma was aware that he had been seeing someone, had been ever since Sett had needed help making food for their first date.

“You do intend to let me meet her, Settrigh?” she asked, stepping back once she had fixed his hair to her satisfaction.

“Yes, ma,” he answered, standing up from the chair.

He wasn’t exactly surprised by his momma’s eagerness, considering this was the first girl he had ever dated, let alone considered introducing to her. This world was shallow; he had learned that early in life, which may be why he found himself so drawn to a girl who had put her all into having nothing to do with him. You broke up the monotony in this busy beach town and gave him something to look forward to other than seeing his ma for the first time in a long time.

Sett knew he was working on a time limit. You had mentioned that you had planned on only visiting Port Navori for the summer, and the summer was half over already, which meant his chances to convince you to stay were also halved, which is where tonight came in.

He had been taking things slow, not wanting to come on too strong and scare you off like he had watched happen to many a beachfront pick-up artist. He had been unwilling to rush things and lose you, but the slip of the calendar into August had forced his hand.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit apprehensive as to how today would end. How would you take him asking you to be girlfriend? He could only hope that he hadn’t misread you entirely.

He didn’t go to the pool parties often, but it seemed like a good way for him to introduce you to his friends, as they didn’t often all gather outside of those parties. He knew you would likely feel out of place, but Braum would be there, and he intended to stick by your side the entire time. And then after the party, if things went well, then maybe he would end the night with you as his girlfriend, but the party would be the first step.

As he left his ma’s house, he found his mind turning to the party. If you were wearing that red swimsuit you had worn last week, then it was going to be a difficult night for his self-control. His desire to take things slow had really taken a hit then, his only saving grace being ma’s lecture on being a gentleman pounding in his head as he tried not to look at how your chest was half-busting out of your top as you leaned over to pick a thread off of his glove. You were really too hot for your own good, which made him all the more eager to see you.

He knew he was running late, the party having started at least ten minutes earlier. It wasn’t his style to be late, but he was also pretty helpless to defy his ma. He only hoped that you hadn’t given up on him and left.

He took the shortest route possible, which included a short trek through some bushes that left him more leafy than he would’ve liked, but it was all forgotten when he spotted the stairs that led up to the pool entrance.

He was able to bypass the doorman who was only half as big as he was and seemed to be wary of interacting with him, stepping out of the way as Sett approached. He pushed past the curtain, hurried steps heading down the hallway. You hadn’t been waiting outside, so clearly you had been able to get in. He tried to fight back the excited grin that wanted to take over his face, but it was a losing battle as he entered the pool area, eyes immediately scanning the area for you.

“Your cruelty is unimaginable!” Braum’s booming voice carried easily through the air. “That girl has done nothing to be deserving of such treatment!”

What had Braum so worked up? Generally he was an easy guy to get along with, easily Sett’s most tolerable co-lifeguard. Not much phased him, which was a little concerning. But Sett had other priorities, the most important being locating you.

You weren’t in the pool, and didn’t seem to be sitting in any of the chairs. Maybe you had gone to the bathroom and would be right back–

“Well how else was she supposed to know Sett is too good for her? She clearly wasn’t going to see reality without a little help.”

Sett’s ears perked up, his attention snagged by the mention of his name, but especially by the latter half of the sentence. He turned around to see Sarah Fortune with Syndra at her side, who had her arms crossed and looked bored. In front of them was Braum, looking more irate than Sett had ever seen him.

“What’s this about?” Sett asked in a warning tone as he approached, the fur of his ears standing on end, leaving him feeling like he wasn’t going to like where this was headed.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Sarah dismissed, flipping her hair behind her shoulder with a flick of her head. “We just showed a daydreaming little clout chaser the way out.”

Sett’s eyebrow rose. “A what?”

“Your ice cream girl,” Braum cut in. “These two have told her that this is a party for pigs. They have told her that you intend to bring her here to win ugly contest, and then she had run off.”

“What?” Sett growled dangerously, but the two women remained nonplussed.

“We did you a favor,” Syndra stressed. “If we get a reputation of letting just anyone in, then we’ll lose all status as members of the ruling class of the food chain. So we decided to throw this little pig party to make you come back to your senses.”

“You’re one of us, Sett,” Sarah added. “This pool doesn’t have room for little nobodies who don’t know their place.”

“Rather be a nobody than whatever the hell this is,” Sett snarled angrily, the full knowledge of the truth turning his bad feeling to a mix of simmering fury at the two women, and worry for you. He hated himself for being late and allowing this to happen to you. “Save your concern and don’t talk to me again.”

“But we were–” Syndra started, but Sett wasn’t in the mood.

“If you even look at her again, you’ll have me to deal with. And unlike that girl you just bullied outta here, I ain’t so nice.”

With that, Sett turned on his heel and stormed towards the exit to go do his best to fix this mess.

Braum quickly followed behind him. “My friend, I am sorry I could not stop them in time.”

“Ain’t your fault,” Sett replied. “Wish I’d have known. Gotta go see if she’ll even talk to me at this point.”

“I wish you luck,” Braum said as exited the hallway and emerged out into the sunny late afternoon.

Sett parted from Braum, taking the stairs two at a time as he surveyed the area, trying to see if he could catch sight of you. He quickly crossed the sand, making a beeline for the ice cream stand, even if it seemed like a longshot. He passed by a group of kids throwing sand on an older man sleeping on a towel, but ignored it and kept going. If anything was on fire, Braum could put it out. Sett’s sole focus right now was finding you and hoping you’d let him explain himself.

His chest felt heavy with anger and regret. How could he have let this happen? He hadn’t realized how cruel those women could be, and it had led to them making you believe he thought you were some freak he was using for convenience, which could not be farther from the truth.

Seeing those two talk about you like you were a pariah had brought him right back to when he was younger, to what he had endured at the hands of people just like Syndra and Sarah. People who had ostracized him, did their best to make him feel like he didn’t have a place here. Sett-the-beast-boy-bastard; the words had haunted him for a long time.

He had grown tough in response to the years of bullying, but you hadn’t. This was your first exposure to how awful this place could be. He and ma had dealt with it for years after pa ran off; he had nearly gotten expelled from school after a particularly bad fight with a kid that had made one too many nasty comments about his ma to his face.

Sett stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh as he saw the large closed sign on the front windows of the ice cream shop. So that was a bust. Without giving the store a second look, he continued on towards the rocks and then up to the parking lot.

There was only one other place to try. Chest tight, Sett followed the same path he had the night of your first date, the same path he took every time he walked you home. The walk there was one long blur, his feet unable to stop moving until the familiar house was in sight. Without a moment’s hesitation, Sett approached the front door, rapping his knuckles against the wood. When no answer came, he tried again, and after a few moments, the door opened to reveal Taliyah, who glared once she caught sight of him.

“What do you want?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Is she here? I need to talk to her,” Sett said, urgency bleeding into his voice.

Taliyah sighed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. “You’re lucky I’m even talking to you after this. You don’t deserve to talk to her if that’s how you let your friends treat her.”

“They ain’t my friends,” Sett argued. “If I’d have known they were gonna pull that shit–”

A sly smile lifted the corner of Taliyah’s lips. “Good answer. If you had said anything else, then I’d be slamming the door in your face right about now.”

“Then can I–”

“Talk to her?” Taliyah interrupted. “Nope. Not a good idea.”

Sett’s face must have taken on a darker quality, because Taliyah retreated back a step, raising her hands in the air in mock surrender. “Relax, tough guy. I didn’t mean it like that. But she’s a little too upset to talk to you right now.”

The information only made Sett feel worse. He wanted so badly to talk to you, to do what he had wanted to do before this mess had happened and make you his girlfriend. You had never felt farther away than you did right now.

“Give me some time to calm her down. I can get her to be at the pier at seven, then the rest is up to you,” she said, levelling him with a stern look. “I know this wasn’t your fault. That’s the only reason I’m giving you a chance. She really likes you, so try not to make her feel any worse than she already does. Bye.”

And then Taliyah was gone, retreating back into the house and leaving Sett standing on the doorstep.

 “Brought you some water,” Taliyah announced as she entered the room, glass in hand.

“Who was at the door?” you asked.

She shrugged. “Someone looking for my dad. Told them he’s not here.”

You nodded. It was probably too much to hope that it would be Sett. You winced as you thought his name. You hated how much you wanted to see him, someone who had used you to win some popular kid ugly date contest.

So it had all been a lie then? All the things he had told you about his life, his family? Every time he had kissed you, was he picturing kissing one of those girls instead? Is this really what popular people did for fun? You felt stupid for falling for it, for falling for him. You were so stupid.

With some prompting from Taliyah, you took a sip of the water. After she had made sure you had drank the whole glass, she sat down next to you, taking the glass from you and setting it down on the bedside table.

“I should have known,” you croaked.

“Known that popular girls are bitchy? Maybe,” she responded.

“That it was too good to be true,” you corrected.

“You’re acting like you’re eighty,” she scolded. “There are other guys out there. Ones who don’t have shitty friends.”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied. “But I really liked him. And I didn’t even get to pet his stupid fuzzy ears.”

“Well if you’re joking, then you must be doing okay,” she said. “How about we go do something to take your mind off of things?”

You frowned, and she rolled her eyes. “Not right this second. I’ll give you until six-thirty to get yourself ready to go.”

Taliyah got up off the bed and headed towards the door. “I’m not gonna let your night be ruined because of a couple of snobs.”

She closed the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts again. You laid back on the bed, intent on taking some time before you got ready to just veg out. As much as the notion of going out didn’t excite you right now, it was probably better than being a mopey mess all night. There would be other guys; it was just a shame that you had liked this one so much.

Two hours later, you were walking down the street with Taliyah. Your getting ready to go had consisted of washing your face of all the smeared makeup from your crying, brushing your hair into a semi-decent state and then watching dumb cat videos on your phone until you felt like you didn’t want to crawl in a hole and die.

Taliyah had assured you that you didn’t look bad, which you might have believed if you hadn’t seen yourself in the mirror as you were leaving, but at this point you were beyond caring about how you looked right now.

Taliyah had refused to tell you where she was taking you, and so you were forced to follow her down the familiar path towards the beach, unsure of where it was you were being led. Part of you was worried that you might run into Sett, but then the more rational side of you took over; he was likely back at that pool, partying it up with those girls and lamenting that you had run off before he could win his ugly date prize. It was crazy to realize just how flawed your judgment had been.

You had expected to be walking onto the beach, as it was where you two usually spent most of your time, but Taliyah didn’t go to the parking lot, instead heading towards the rockier section of the beach. You hadn’t been over here before, only vaguely aware of the area as a prime fishing location, bait shops and the like lining the street across from this part of the beachfront.

She took you past the fishing spots, down to near the end of the beach, where there was a small pier that went about thirty feet out into the sea. Like most of the beach at this time on a weekday, the pier was empty, most of the fishermen also having headed out with their day’s catches.

Taliyah led you down the pier to the small bench at the end of it, pushing you to sit down. When she didn’t do the same, you looked up at her, confused.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. “I’m gonna go grab something to help cheer you up. You just enjoy the view for a bit.”

You decided to follow her advice, staring out at the water. There wasn’t much to see other than some boats in the far distance and some buoys bobbing in the water that marked the swimming section from the boating section.

It was kind of nice in a way, the calm waters helping you to relax as you watched the waves roll in and out. You stayed like that for a while as you allowed yourself to zone out until you began to wonder how much time had passed. Pulling out your phone, you saw that it had been almost twenty minutes, and yet there was no sign of Taliyah as you looked around.

You had assumed that she went to get you two some food, which likely was still the case. Some of the places here tended to have rather large dinnertime crowds, so a twenty minute plus wait wasn’t exactly unusual. You had no idea where she had gone, so all you could do was wait. If she wasn’t back by seven, you would just text her and ask what was up.

You let yourself be taken in again by the rolling waves as you continued to wait, trying to recall what kinds of restaurants there were on the beachfront. It couldn’t be that fish and chips place; Taliyah had spent a full half hour last week complaining about how stale their food was. Or the taco place, since it had been closed for renovations for the past week. You had been trying to think of a third option when your concentration was broken by someone taking a seat next to you on the bench.

You looked over, expecting to see Taliyah back with some food, but instead nearly jolted off of the bench when next to you was the very man you were out here trying to forget.

Just seeing him when you were feeling so pathetic sent a jolt of you weren’t sure what up your spine, your flight instincts screaming at you as you made to stand up, only to be stopped by a firm grip on your wrist.

“I know you don’t wanna see my face right now,” Sett said. “But I can explain.”

“Explain what?” you replied meekly. “Those girls explained enough.”

“I haven’t,” he insisted. “Just listen for a minute. Then you can leave, or punch me, whatever you want.”

You took a look around, still not seeing Taliyah anywhere. You weren’t sure what he could have to say that would make much of a difference, but you sat back down, and he let go of your wrist.

You turned reluctantly to face Sett, waiting for him to talk first.

“Never told ‘em to do somethin’ like that,” he said gruffly. “Didn’t even know about it ‘til I got there and you weren’t there.”

“But they said…” you started, taking a breath to keep yourself calm as you prepared to recount the hurtful words. “They said you were only spending time with me so you could win their whole ugly date contest.”

Sett’s eyes narrowed, the skin of his knuckles tightening on his curling fists. “First I’ve heard of it. Ain’t no way you’d ever place in an ugly contest anyways.”

His words threw you. “Wait, so you don’t think I’m ugly?”

He snorted, a grin playing at his lips. “Well I was plannin’ on askin’ you to be my girlfriend after the party, so nah, I don’t think you’re ugly.”

“You–” you gasped, pulse skyrocketing. This was not how you expected this conversation to go. You were half convinced you were experiencing auditory hallucinations until Sett reached over, pulling you into his side.

“This is my fault,” he spoke lowly. “If I hadn’t been late, I’d have been there to stop that from happening.”

“What happened when you got there?” you asked quietly.

“Braum told me what happened, then those two tried tellin’ me they did it for my sake,” he growled. “I thought I was used to seein’ through bullies from how I grew up. Doesn’t matter now, they won’t be botherin’ you anymore unless they wanna find out why momma says I got her temper.”

“Why were you late anyways?” you asked.

He groaned, leaning his head back against the bench. Even with the sun mostly set, you could clearly see a pink tone to his cheeks.

“What is it?” you pressed, curious about why the intimidating lifeguard was suddenly being so shy.

He let out a long sigh, finally meeting your eyes. “Ma was doin’ my hair.”

You looked him over, realizing that his hair did seem to be tied differently today. The only thing that looked the same was his ears, just as fluffy as they always looked. You could almost hear Taliyah’s voice screaming in your head to pet them. Speaking of Taliyah…

“Taliyah!” you gasped, trying to extract yourself from Sett’s grip, but failing. If Taliyah was to come and see you here with the guy she had taken you out to forget about… “My friend, she’ll be back any second and–”

Sett laughed, and you were immediately left with the feeling that you were missing something.

“She ain’t comin’ back,” he said amusedly. “I’ve got you all to myself for the night… if that’s what you want.”

“Taliyah set me up?” you breathed, not having suspected a thing.

“I asked her to,” Sett explained. “Wasn’t about to let you go ‘cuz of some shallow assholes.”

Taliyah was much sneakier than you had given her credit for, you realized, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind right now. Though that didn’t mean you weren’t hungry, your previous stress melting away and removing the only distraction from your empty stomach.

“So,” you hummed. “Are you still going to ask me to be your girlfriend?”

You still had no idea what would happen by the end of the summer, but you really wanted this. You wanted him.

“Yeah, was plannin’ on it.”

 You had thought about it all the way back to Sett’s house. Was it really for the best to go back to your city when the summer was over? Back to your parents’ house to find an equally demanding and unfulfilling job?

The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to stay. Taliyah was here, Sett was here, and other than your brief nasty encounter at the pool earlier, this summer had been the best one you’d had in a long time.

Sett seemed intent on giving you more reasons to stay as he was on you pretty much as soon as you entered his house. You had been standing in the entryway, looking at a picture of what must have been Sett and his mother when he caught you off guard, picking you up from behind.

You yelped, turning your head back to face him just in time for him to dart forward to snatch a kiss.

“You’ll have time to look around later,” he said as he walked down the hall, nudging a door open with his shoulder and then taking you into what looked to be his bedroom.

Once again, you were scarcely granted a look around before Sett had overtaken your attention yet again. You were swiftly carried over and deposited on the bed, Sett eagerly caging your body down against the sheets with his own.

“I wanted to go slow,” he said against your ear. “Didn’t wanna mess things up. But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“No,” you gasped as he snaked a hand under your dress, and then under your swimsuit bottoms. “I… I want…”

“This?” he inquired, thumb brushing against your clit, causing you to jolt against him with a breathy moan. “Waited a long time to hear that.”

Seeking more room to work, Sett pulled back to reach down and pull down your swimsuit bottoms, tossing them to the side. You watched with reddening cheeks as he returned his attention to you, head disappearing under your dress next.

His first lick against your pussy felt back-archingly good, but you didn’t have a lot of room to move with Sett’s hands holding your lower half in place. His tongue felt slightly rough, bringing pricks of pleasure-pain along its path.

Closing your eyes tight, you tried not to squirm, but it was difficult as Sett’s tongue prodded inside you before moving back to sucking at your clit. It felt good, almost too good, but you found yourself wanting more than his mouth against you.

“Sett,” you moaned. “Please…”

You weren’t sure if he got the message until you reached down to grasp at one of his hands. He pulled back from you, wiping one forearm against the wet lower half of his face as he sat back. His position on his knees on the bed allowed you a good look at the decently-sized bulge in the front of his tight swim shorts.

Sett caught your eyes, reaching one hand down to cup his cock through his shorts. “All you, sweetheart. Still think I think you’re ugly?”

You somehow managed to shake your head, speechless from his ardent display of his body. Sett seemed to bask in just how speechless he had made you, a sexy grin overtaking his face as he stared down at you.

“Couldn’t ask for more than this,” he said. “But if you want more…”

He was such a tease. With a burning face, you relented.

“Could you just put it in me please?” you asked, too shy to make eye contact.

“Can do,” he replied, and you could easily hear the smug satisfaction in his voice.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Sett stood up from the bed to pull his shorts off, wincing slightly when he pulled the tight fabric over his painfully-hard cock. Tossing the shorts to the floor, his attention quickly returned to you.

Giving his cock a few slow strokes, he watched you sit up on the bed. Feeling a burst in confidence from his display, you reached down to the hem of your dress’ skirt before pulling it up and off your body, Sett’s hungry gold eyes unable to look away from you as you moved onto your swimsuit top.

Once your top was off, Sett struck, pulling you towards him. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he pulled you onto his lap, reaching around to your front to cup your breasts as his mouth went straight to your neck. His hands were warm against the sensitive skin of your breasts, rolling your nipples under his thumbs as his teeth scraped against a sensitive spot on your neck.

You felt his hard cock under you and shifted yourself against it, Sett letting out a deep groan in response. You could feel how wet you were, but this wasn’t enough. You needed to fuck him, needed this building tension to come to a satisfying end for you both.

You turned in his lap, looping your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him. Sett was happy to meet tongues with you, one hand resting on your ass until you pulled back from the kiss.

You met eyes with Sett, who began to help you lift yourself up, lining up his cock with his other hand. When he brought you back down onto him, you both sighed as you were fully seated on his cock at last.

“Nothin’ else would feel as good as you,” Sett groaned as he began to help you move and up and then back down onto him. “Never wanted any girl as bad as I want you.”

You were much less coherent, moaning out his name as your hands grasped against his chest. With a further burst of confidence, you reached a hand up to his ear, running your fingers along the fur and enjoying the resulting groan, the next upward thrust of his hips hitting even better into you. Maybe you would leave this out at Taliyah’s interrogation later.

“There,” you moaned as he shifted you in his lap, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “Right there, Sett.”

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, pulling you down into a rough kiss as he held you close, thrusting up into you as you eagerly moved along with him, needing to make this gorgeous man under you cum.

Sett came first, stilling for a moment before pulling you slightly back to put a finger to your clit, letting you cling to him as you followed him over the edge.

Once you had both come back down from the clouds, you were set back gently on the bed so Sett could run off to grab a cloth to clean you up with. You watched him leave the room, still having a hard time comprehending just how you had ended up this situation.

You definitely had some phone calls to make tomorrow. Your parents would be surprised, but you would probably focus on the Taliyah part rather than the new boyfriend part of your reasoning. Taliyah would be overjoyed for sure; you’d have to thank her for her meddling when you saw her.

As Sett returned, you realized something.

“Wait, is your mom home?” you asked in horror. You hadn’t made any effort to be quiet during sex, forgetting about his mother until he re-entered the room.

Sett laughed at your mortified face. “I don’t live with ma, so no.”

“Oh god,” you breathed in relief. “I was worried I was too…”

“She ain’t here,” he replied as he joined you on the bed, handing you the cloth he had grabbed. “You can be as loud as you want.”

You dropped the cloth, burying your head in your hands, Sett’s amused laughter ringing in your ears as you tried to content with just what you had signed yourself up for.

[astrochemstry]

oooo hello! how about writing dating headcanons for dazai osamu? 🙈

YO I love ur leaving for a trip HC omg thanks for requesting

probably bad bcs I feel detached from myself today buT YEAH HOPE U LIKE IT

Character: Dazai

Warnings: Mentions of Suicide bcs dAZai

Navigation

When you first meet:

“D OU bLE SUIc IDE???”

Yes

Anyways

I mean i think he does that at first

Talks for a bit but forgets u after a while lmao

But when he sees u again, idk doing whatever you like with a smile and feeling happy

He just goes “wow cute smile”

Is constantly thinking about u afterwards

“dAZAI DO UR WORK!!!”

“Haha cute smile”

Ok tbh i think Kunikida would find out first

Tells Dazai hes in love

Dazai is !??!?!??!?!??

Kunikida--though he didnt know Dazai was from the mafia-- he's smart, I think he'd pick up on subtle changes of mood, he'll feel the room's vibe turn into a cold tension, not so different with Dazai but he doesn't know the intentions of  his sudden mood changes, as if he doesn't know how to handle his emotions

Cough cough

Look he may seem like he doesnt care but he dOES

So he helps Dazai!!!

Kunikida is a romantic no i don't take criticism for this

Dazai does remember something you like though, maybe youve been eyeing this item or you like these flowers, this book and etc

So he tells Kunikida, they buy it, Kunikida wants him to wrap it, he uses bandages

sMACK

Jk he was just joking around that time, probably gets something thats your fav color or design and stuff

So the day comes when hes gonna give it

He actually brought a balloon where he drew something like a cat idk you choose

I think he woudnt know what to say? He prob goes “hey” agGRESSIVE GIVING AND LOOKS AWAy

Ofc he glances a bit to see if u like it

U do ofc

Whether you ask why he gave u this or not, he goes

“I found out you liked that so i bought it for you”

Pls do the asking out here

When u do

“!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!”

Stops being quiet and starts gasping, fake fainting, dramatic poses that stuff

To be real?? He felt anxious like damn what if he made a bad impression?? What if its not good enough?? whAT IF HE LOOKS BAD??

Look this guy, he overthinks too, hes just that good at hiding it

But ofc he accepts the offer who wouldnt

And that concludes your first meeting and going on a date

When Dating:

This guy is the best

Why?

smOOCHINg

Surprise huGS

CUPPING EACHOTHER'S CHEEKS

And as I said before,, cH E e k KIS SES!!!!

yo I think you guys would ride those supermarket carts

Yes in the store but

You guys don't play safe, you guys take riSKS

and no you guys didn't ride the cart without getting caught

Kunikida bailed you out lmao

And as I said in that pamper s/o hc, this guy

Yes he loves getting pampered tbh

But at the same time, hates it?

Not like annoyed, mad, not hate hate

He just doesn't feel like he deserves it

But reassure him pls!! Boyo deserves lots of love

When you guys first kiss or you do smthing affectionate

he's so surprised

He's just ?????!!!!!!!!!!??????

like yeah for a split second you'll see it but he can get himself seem like he's unfazed

But bro,,, bro… I swear,, he just wonders sometimes how he got someone like you

Another thing he does is

ShOW OFF

If you don't work at the agency, he'd bring you from time to time and just show you off lmao

*Loud sigh* "DaZAi" sMACK

And of course we can't forget our Kunikidad I mean Kunikida

Everyone is surprised except for Ranpo and Kunikida

They love you btw you're very sweet heh

Anyways, You guys I think,,

You guys just sit together

Park bench, couch, whatever but you're watching the sun set or something pretty

And you just, sit. In silence. Enjoying eachother's presence yk?

Also look, I think he has topics he found out through a newspaper or the internet and he just researches about it and is literally passionate about it

Ask him about it and he'll just, he won't stop talking until hes told you eVERYThing

Would also be surprised if you remember a thing or two-- or even start getting into the topic too!!

He'd be so excited because he has someone to talk to about it

Now when you get more closer, yk the relationship is now months or years old

He'll open up

This is Dazai Osamu, remember that, it's hard to read this guy and nobody really knows what he thinks unless he says it

So be patient with him, it's worth it seeing his vulnerable side

Meaning he trusts you that muchh

When he opens up, he never expects he would tbh? He never thought he'd find someone he'd open up to (like Oda)

And his past with the Mafia?

Tbh, I think he wouldn't bring it up? Like, he's afraid yk?

He doesn't want to ruin something good, he doesn't want you to think he's the same person as before

But I think you'll find out either way, either some Port mafia mission happens and you just happen to see it or whatever coincidenctal scenario

Though, he might uh avoid you when that happens

He's just afraid yk? Overthinks the whole thing and is scared but he keeps up the same persona to avoid concern and suspicion

But hey, you know he ain't the same person and he's working hard to be a better person--

You guys talk about it and now you're both okay

I think I just ruined the whole request by making this that long but yeah!! That's all I got for today

[secretshinigami]

Meet you under the sun

Author: @lightlessons For: @danthegeek Pairings/Characters: Light Yagami/L Lawliet, Misa Amane, Kiyomi Takada. Rating/Warnings: M. Mature language, Swear words, Alcohol consumption.  Prompt: AU Light is a popular Collage Student and invited to a beach party. He is having a lot of fun, is flirty and arrogant as we know him. He is dancing with Misa, who is not his girlfriend but has a crush on him. Then, L joins the party, somebody brought him along. He is chilling awkwardly by the buffet when Light takes notice of him and joins him at the buffet. He has seen him before a couple times on the campus, but never talked to him. What happens next is up to you…

Author’s notes: I bent the specifics a bit in that I had Light talk to L  just a bit after seeing him instead of immediately, because i felt it fit the pacing I had better. Hope it’s still okay though :-) 

—————————–

“Don’t tell me you’re a Beach Volleyball junior champion too,” Takada joked after Light obliterated (yet again) a team of what appeared to be sociology majors, or something equally pointless, she had that small, half-hearted smile that was so characteristic of hers but with the slight frown of someone who isn’t used to being impressed.

Light laughed humbly. 

“I’m not. Maybe my experience with tennis helps somewhat? But I’ve really never played it before.”

His classmate sighed, and Light thought that being constantly made aware of his numerous skills had to be tiring for her. “You must be just naturally talented then,” she supposed as she fixed her hair behind her ear in a strange bashful gesture that must mean she was finally surrendering over to Light’s natural charm, as one would expect. 

“Or those two are just awful,” Light smirked conspiratorially. 

The young bourgeois laughed, which was what Light was hoping to achieve. Takada always enjoyed laughing at other people’s expense.

Light wasn’t much of a fan of the beach. There was too much sand getting into bad places and too many people acting as if the transition from monkey to hominid had never been made. Too much noise and too much sun and too many girls asking him to slather them with sun blocker, as if he’d pop a boner over touching their skinny naked backs. But, if there was something he’d learned from a very young age was the importance of having good public relations, and so when Kiyomi Takada had invited him to an exclusive beach party, he knew he wouldn’t say no to the daughter of the Sankei Newspaper’s owner. He’d gone into To-Doh not just looking for a quality education after all but in the hope of forming good connections too. 

And this party, filled with Tokyo’s most important youth, was a perfect opportunity to start rubbing shoulders. Light was young and attractive and athletic, perfectly composed to be like a bug zapper for these kinds of things. 

Plus, the lively music and the three margaritas he’d already had were kinda getting to him. 

“LIIIIIIIIGHT!!!” A familiar voice suddenly screeched from somewhere behind him. 

Oh dear God. 

Five feet of blond supermodel darted towards him through the small crowd of spectators that had formed for the match. Misa Amane, bimbo extraordinaire, had finally shown up to the party in all her unbridled glory. 

“Oh, that was so cool! You’re always so cool, Light,” she proclaimed with shiny eyes while all the other men around and some of the women ogled her in her small two-piece red bikini with a blackthorns and vines pattern, as characteristic of the gothic style she favored. 

Now, Light didn’t dislike Misa. She was cute in a very whiny-cat kind of way. Sort of endearing at first but jarring as the volume increased and the minutes went on. The first time they met she’d claimed she felt a cosmological affinity towards him or some such bullshit and then proceeded to interrogate him for his zodiac, moon, and rising sign, whatever the hell that meant–he hadn’t been paying attention. She was useful, though, in that she was somewhat famous and happily willing to do him any favors, or connect him with any of her large contact lists, even when he’d already been clear about not being interested in any non-friendly relation with her (using the hardships that came to celebrities’ partners as an excuse), he was a gentleman, after all, and he wouldn’t toy with a woman’s feelings. 

“Hey Misa,” Light gave her an easy smile that would hopefully settle her for the rest of the day. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere for the past week! Where have you been hiding? Not with Kiyomi, I hope!”

Takada at his side made an affronted sound that seemed to choke on the way up her throat. 

“Behave, Misa. I’ve told you I’m not your property,” Light belittled her with only mild sternness. 

Misa shook her head enthusiastically. 

“Misa is only teasing, Light! She promises! Besides, Kiyomi and I have started getting along since Spanish class. Haven’t we, Kiyomi?" 

Kiyomi seemed startled for a moment, as if she didn’t expect Misa to call her out like that, but recovered quickly to settle her face into her usual cold mask of indifference. 

“I suppose so.” 

“Aw, don’t be like that. We even planned a fake trip to Playa del Carmen together! Oh, Light, you should join us!” 

“I’m taking Korean.” 

“Not in class, silly, on the trip!” 

"Right… then I happen to be busy around that time of year,” he joked, throwing a smirk at Takada and earning the most formal of snorts he’d heard. 

"Miss Amane does have a fondness for fantasizing,” Takada replied instead, like a ready viper waiting for the perfect moment to strike at her victims. Oh, there’s no need to be mean with her, Kiyomi. 

The implications seemed to get lost on the blonde, however. 

“Pfft, you’re no fun. I’ll borrow him for a bit, Kiyomi. Clearly he needs a little loosening up, and you’re not exactly a party animal, are you?” 

Before Kiyomi could reply Misa had already taken Light’s arm and dragged him to the bar for more drinks. Light had to admit, the cocktails options were impressive, and he sort of wanted to try everything on the menu, but in the end, following the beach spirit, he and Misa both ordered a piña colada, and while usually, he wasn’t a fan of too much sweet in his alcohol, the fresh taste felt like a blessing under the hot summer sun, enough that soon he found himself chatting amicably with Misa and even had to catch himself from -dear God- giggling at something she said. 

Such was his mildly buzzed state when a sight at the corner of his eyes caught his attention. Turning around, he understood why. A black-haired man was standing under a palm tree and sipping at his own colada, with his back very badly curved in an awful posture and huge eyes fixed somewhere on the sand. Weirdly enough, he was wearing jeans to the beach with only a loose tank top to combat the scorching weather, and still, his wild mop of hair was the most recognizable part of him, which was in itself something, as Light had never in his life seen someone more particular. He’d seen the other boy around campus a handful of times before, but there had never been an opportunity for him to approach him, even though Light had always felt an inexplicably strong pull for him to ask him about his name. 

Misa loudly calling his name made him realize he’d been staring. 

“Misa, do you know who that is?”

Misa squinted in the direction of Light’s eyes, face lighting up with recognition. 

“Of course! That’s Ryuzaki! He’s actually the inheritor of Wammy’s Co. But not many people know about that,” the model smirked like she was telling the juiciest gossip. “People like Takada probably think he sticks out like a sore thumb around here. But the truth is, he’s got more money than any of us combined.” Light’s ears perked up at that. “He’s also one of the smartest people you’ll ever meet, and I’ve met you, Light. I don’t know who invited him, though. Let��s ask him! Hey, Ryuzaki!!" 

The odd student turned around towards the voice calling him and tilted his head to the side in silent interrogation. 

The boy’s assemblage of quirks brought a smile to his face. He hadn’t allowed himself to think it before, but he had always thought the student was rather cute even with how little he knew of him. 

“Who invited you?!” 

Light winced and glared at Misa for how carelessly she had posed such a question, but Ryuzaki didn’t seem the least bit faced and instead cupped a hand near his mouth like a mock-megaphone and shouted: “I just came for the desserts!” with a wide-eyed expression that gave no indication whatsoever of if he was teasing or not. 

Misa laughed like she’d heard the best joke ever and Light just blinked in the boy’s direction.

“Isn’t he a blast?” She hollered as Ryuzaki’s eyes met his.

It was hard for Light to describe those few seconds, but for one single moment, the strings holding his soul together seemed to vibrate at a different tune than they’d played previously. He was unsure if he shivered, but he had to break the eye contact like some damned school girl to pull himself back together. 

Why did his face feel warm all of a sudden? 

"Ooh, I love this song! Let’s dance, Light!” Misa interrupted his thoughts again with a squeal.

“Uhh, sure, yeah…" 

×~°~×~°~×~°~×~°~×

Dancing was decidedly not as fun unless you had a certain amount of alcohol in your body. Or at least, that was Light’s opinion on the matter. Who’d enjoy several hours of mindlessly moving your body unless somehow inebriated? That’s why Light had to drink another two mimosas to keep up with dancing with Misa for five songs straight, not because he was somewhat shaken up about the guy with the bird’s nest hair and the absent look –Ryuzaki, his brain provided– and certainly not because he was figuring out how to approach him. 

He separated from Misa when the sun was already setting, bathing the sea with a last warm goodbye. Everyone at the beach stopped for a moment to marvel at it, but Light only had eyes for Ryuzaki, who was… nowhere to be seen, sending Light into a momentary panic. 

He almost slapped himself when he found him below the parasol housing the buffet. It was what Ryuzaki had said before about the only reason for coming to the party. Normally, he would have remembered, which only meant Light’s brain wasn’t behaving as fast as it normally would. It couldn’t be that he’d have too much to drink, could it? 

Alright, be smooth, Yagami. 

“Hello!” Light chirped with a wide grin, planting himself beside the strange boy who was staring at the lines of sweets like they were study material. 

Ryuzaki turned to him with a blink. 

That had come higher than intended. 

"We, uh, are in the same faculty? I’ve seen you around 345.”

“Light Yagami. Second-year Criminal Justice major. You’re the son of detective-superintendent Soichiro Yagami of the NPA." 

"Um.”

“You respect and admire your father greatly and your intention is to become the deputy director of the NPA. You’re as ambitious as you are clever.”

“Why do you-”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’re aware of how popular you are around here, word goes around. You’re not the only one I have this sort of information on." 

Light wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be reassuring. 

At the very least, that introduction had sobered him up. 

The other student was appraising him with a curious gaze, as he was starting to learn he looked at pretty much everything. 

"Is that the way you introduce yourself to everyone?" 

"Hmm. Yes, usually. I told you. You’re not special in that regard.”

“In what regard am I special, then?” Light asked cheekily. 

“That’s not-”

But he didn’t let him finish before walking around him like a predator would its prey. He made a show of considering what pastry he’d take and settled for a star-shaped cookie. Ryuzaki watched the whole procedure closely and Light smirked at him as he took a bite. 

Yes, I made you think about my mouth now. How’s that, smart-ass? 

“I think we should get to know each other better, don’t you?”

“And what makes you come to that conclusion?” Ryuzaki supposed. 

“Well, I want to, for one.” Light sassed.

“Are you coming on to me?" 

Light’s confident semblance cracked. It suddenly dawned on him what he was doing and where. Fuck, what if he isn’t into guys? This was why he never flirted with men unless he was sure the other person was at least bisexual! Or just let the other guys come onto him, which he never had a lack of. Shit. 

Ryuzaki seemed to notice his momentary alarm because he placed a hand on his arm in reassurance. 

"No, I’m into it. I was just surprised,” he explained with an earnestness Light wasn’t expecting. 

“Surprised?”

“People like you don’t usually flirt with me." 

"What’s people like me?" 

"Now you’re just fishing for compliments." 

Light grinned, feeling like his assured (but not overly-presumptuous) self again. 

“Swear I’m not.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Your hand is still on my arm, by the way.” 

Ryuzaki blinked at the offender, which was indeed still curled around Light’s tricep like a possessive pale spider. He only let go of it slowly, finger by finger, and Light pretended he could see a faint blush on the other’s face with the last rays of sunlight. 

There was a conscious effort on his part to not brush those sharp cheeks tenderly with his knuckles, less the sudden contact spook his new sudden fascination away. 

“It appears you’re not the only intoxicated one of the two of us,” Ryuzaki admitted in a low voice.

The loud party music and noises of the crowd seemed so far away. 

Light took a step forward. 

“We should–” 

“Light!”

A group of people was coming their way, and Light recognized Takada, Okubo Chise, Kinoshita Hideo, and another fake-blond dude he’d never had any interest in talking to. Kinoshita was the son of a major tech company’s executive and was rotting in money from his million-dollar hair to the ugly fungus in his toenails. Light, sadly, had had a mild interest for him at first, but that went to shit when he came to see how much of an asshole he was. 

Kinoshita grabbed him by the shoulder, while Chise and the fake-blond planted themselves in front of Ryuzaki. Takada, for her part, just stood to Light’s side glaring in Ryuzaki’s direction. What the hell?

“Light, what is someone like you doing talking with a freakshow like Ryuzaki.” Kinoshita wondered, exposing his gums in a self-satisfied smile that quickly raised Light’s hackles. "Don’t you know nothing good ever comes from involving yourself with him?”

“Come again?” 

“It’s true, Light. He doesn’t have a good reputation,” Takada interjected, not bothering to hide the disgust in her face with a once-over to his new acquaintance. “I don’t know how he’d have the nerve to come in here, uninvited.”

Frowning, Light searched to see the face of the boy he’d just been so pleasantly flirting with and, outwardly, found him to appear relatively unbothered. He’d expected him to be angry, indignant, or even sad, but Ryuzaki only had his hands in his jean pockets and was yet again staring with wide eyes at some unknown fixed point as if no one were talking about him. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific about whatever offense Ryuzaki’s done. But whatever the case, I find it incredibly distasteful to round him up like you’re doing.”

“It’s alright, Light. Kinoshita is probably still just angry because I exposed a nasty little online scam of his, and attained information that could lose him the already crumbling favor of his father, and also the fact that he is nevertheless unable to cause me any significant harm,” Ryuzaki answered matter-of-factly without sparing a single glance at Kinoshita’s direction.

Everyone fell silent for a moment. 

Okay, that was… 

Extremely attractive. 

“You’re a lying little cunt!” Kinoshita snarled. 

“The naive teenagers being granted false scholarships would argue otherwise.”

“What? Hideo, you said–” Takada began. 

But the small elite group exploded in an argument about what Kinoshita had or hadn’t done, with the latter giving weaker and weaker arguments. Light was so engrossed in his rightful indignation and the opportunity to disgrace Kinoshita, that by the time he called for Ryuzaki’s own word in the matter the strange student had already left without saying a word.

×~°~×~°~×~°~×~°~×

“Ryuzaki!" 

The hunched figure paused in his lazy gait towards the beach boulevard, but the dark disheveled head didn’t turn around. Light was panting by the time he caught up to him and he could feel the beginning of a headache already forming. 

Night had already fallen and the breeze charged at them from within the sea. 

"You’re already going?" 

"I am indeed approximately 700 feet from the party." 

"Not what I was asking.” Light rolled his eyes. 

Ryuzaki turned around finally, all sharp angles and even darker eyes illuminated by the blue and purple artificial lights on the street. 

“Well, your question didn’t contain your true intentions either. You’re asking why I’m going. And I assume this means you’d like to talk more?" 

Fastidious asshole. 

L didn’t wait for Light to answer before taking his phone from his jean’s pocket and handing it to him with the contact app open. 

Light typed quickly and handed the phone back, which finally brought a blessed smile to Ryuzaki’s face.

"I’m looking forward to talking to you soon, Light Yagami. Oh and before I forget." 

Long, spidery fingers settled themselves in a careful hold below Light’s chin, and before he had time to process what was about to happen, soft lips gave a feathery kiss to his own, so quick it might have been fantasy if it weren’t for the ghost of a contact searing an imprint over Light’s heart. 

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you at the entrance ceremony.”

[isolemnlyswear]

ooo could i request a remus x fem! reader where both of them are very shy so it takes lily, james and sirius to push them together. and whenever they talk to each other they stutter a lot?

always have, always will.

a/n : guess what! i made this way too intense again. i can't help it; its so much easier for me to write a really fucking intense love rather than a crush IM SORRY !! the end is the only cute part the rest is shite

HAPPY (very belated bc i don't have any motivation) BIRTHDAY REMUS MY BEAUTIFUL BOY

taglist : @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @faeinorbit @tomriddleswifey @inks-and-jinx @jxsperhxle @punkrific @the-gazette-of-tea @krasivayadarling @orifortheweeknd @fallin-4-ya @incxndio @daisyyy2516 @hoe4cedricdiggory

young!remus lupin x fem!reader

---

"Oh." you sigh, blinking when you see Remus inside. Your huff isn't one of discontent; rather, as you enter the common room, you're simply nervous, timid to deal with the boy. As soon as you want to speak in front of him, to tell him that you really, really like him, you start blushing, turning into a stammering mess.

Alas, you swallow your fear, sitting down on the plush maroon chair opposite him and Sirius; Lily is on the floor, flipping through a potions book, and James is sprawled across your coordinating chair. Remus is lying against the side of the couch, knees up with arms wrapped around his legs. He's smiling, laughing at a joke Sirius told prior to your arrival.

Your heart is aching in your chest, and you try to will it to stop yearning for this boy, but there's a voice inside your head. One that tells you that he's all you could ever need.

Such thoughts reduce you to mush when Lily notices your arrival.

"There she is! How are 'ya?" the redhead greets you happily, and such a simple question is blocked out by your tunnel vision; you can only focus on one thing at the moment, and it's Remus.

You don't speak for a moment, zoning out, but when your eyes meet those of Remus, you quickly snap out of your trance, shaking your head.

"'M fine. J-just tired, I think 'm gonna go upstairs-" you manage to say, but you're cut off by an incredulous Sirius.

"S'five in the afternoon!" he says with a laugh, and you nod.

"And?" you quip, focus now returned when you tear your eyes away from Remus.

"Y'gotta stay down here, dinner's soon!" Lily replies, and you glare at her. She knows exactly why you want to leave at the moment, rather, she knows about how in love you are with one of your best friends. She raises her hands in mock surrender, and you sigh.

It's almost painful, the next hour. You're trying so hard to not make it alarmingly obvious concerning your... issue, but it's proving to be quite difficult.

And then, finally, it's dinner. You're able to get away with not talking, as you pretend to be eating anytime you're asked a question, and Remus is silent as well.

You eventually can sneak away to your dorm, wanting to sleep to rid yourself of the thoughts that give you no reprieve during the day.

But, of course, your dreams are of Remus.

---

Unbeknownst to you, and Remus, the entire rest of the marauders (and about half your year) are painfully aware of your affection for the boy.

And his for you.

So they hatch a plan; it’s simple, but effective.

You're all lounging in the common room -a typical Saturday afternoon - when James poses an odd request.

“Hey, Y/N? D’you wanna go look at something for me?” he asks, fighting back the smile that threatens at his lips. You nod, eager to get away from the tension that you and Remus are swamped by.

“What is it?” you ask as he gets up, leading you up the stairs and to his dorm room. You're confused, eyebrows furrowing and hands wringing nervously.

“You'll see.” James grins at you as you enter the dorm room - which has four beds, three of which are littered with laundry and other teenage boy things, but one is impeccably neat, and you assume it to be Remus’s.

“James, what-” you begin, but he shushes you with a laugh.

“Lily’s cat won't get out of this closet, y’see, and I know you're good with animals and the like, so could you...get it? For Lily, f’course, ” he asks, pointing to a rather large closet in the corner of their dorm.

You raise your eyebrows, but nod, opening the doors and getting in, eyes searching for Lily’s feline friend.

But as soon as you drop to your knees, a soft thud reverberates through the closet. James had shut the doors, and the closet was big enough to where you weren't claustrophobic, thankfully. But there is no cat in sight. None.

Downstairs, however, James had strolled in nonchalantly, and Lily’s grinning.

“What did you do this time, Prongs?” Remus sighs, unaware that the others around him are all aware of their little plot.

“Maybe you should go upstairs and find out,” James says ominously, raising a dark eyebrow. Remus glares at him, sighing.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, still holding his gaze on the brunette. Lily giggles, and Remus shoots her an impatient glare. “What did you do to her?” The question is directed at no one in particular, but the irascible tone in the lycanthrope’s voice demands an answer.

“Once again, go upstairs and find out, mate.” James’s tone, however, is one of amusement.

Remus takes in a querulous breath, turning to stomp up the stairs.

Undivulged to him, James is sneakily creeping up the stairs behind the boy.

You're pounding at the mahogany of the closet door, and you've forgotten your wand downstairs, leaving you helpless in the space. You ponder why James would do such a thing, but you brush it off, figuring it was another prank, one of all too many.

“Y/N?” Remus questions hesitantly into the empty dorm, and your ears prick up at his voice.

“I'm in here!!” you shout, pounding at the closet door, and Remus rushes to open it for you.

But as soon as he's inside, helping you up, James, with a flick of his wand, shuts the door.

You're locked in.

With Remus.

And it's absurd, really, how quickly your heart is beating in your ribcage.

“Prongs I swear to Merlin-” Remus starts irritably, but stops himself with a tremulous inhale.

“Fuck,” you whisper, cowering to the back of the closet. Remus’s scent is surrounding you, the honey and chocolate and dark cologne enveloping you in a blanket of bliss. You’re thankful for the dim nature of the closet, for your cheeks are rouging with embarrassment.

Little known to you, Remus’s heart is pounding in his ears, and he’s even more entranced by your scent, what with his dog-like sense of smell. It's his favorite scent in the world, truly, one he could get lost in forever.

“Sorry,” the boy whispers, slumping down across the space from you, and you quirk a brow.

“W-what are you sorry for, Remus?” you ask quietly, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I got us locked in here, didn't I?” You can hear the soft smile in his voice, a bittersweet one.

“But that isn't too bad, is it?” you say, courage surging through your bones as the darkness shields your nerves.

“Oh yeah?” he asks under his breath, laughing softly.

“What, am I that unbearable?” you tease, tucking a strand of fallen hair behind your ear.

“No,” Remus says remarkably quickly, and then he hesitates for a second. “Quite the opposite.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but his words ring in your ears like a mantra.

“That's quite cryptic,” you say, taking in a deep breath.

“Y’gonna make me spell it out for you?”

“If you mean what I think you do, fuck, either I'm being terribly idiotic right now or...” you trail off, noticing that Remus is closer to you, now.

“Or what?” he breathes, and you close your eyes slowly.

“Or...if you're, um, insinuating what I think you to be, and I get words out correctly enough to respond...” you leave the rest of the sentence unsaid, words trapped in your throat.

“What then?” Remus says ever-so-quietly, and you take in another breath, eyes still pressed closed.

“I'd be making the best decision of my life.”

You can hear the boy’s breath hitch in his throat. You open your eyes to see that he's next to you, now, and the soft light from under the door that illuminates you as the sun lowers is glimmering on his skin, bouncing off the scars in his skin and the gold flecks in his eyes.

“Perhaps... Perhaps it’d be right of you to make that assumption. That I'm saying what you think I am, that is.” He breathes slowly, and your eyes flick to him again.

“This conversation is the most cryptic thing I've ever heard,” you say quietly with a laugh, and Remus nods in agreement.

“We’re getting the point across, though, aren't we?” he jests, and you giggle. Your expression then turns serious, and you turn so that you're facing the boy.

“Could I... Could I take you up on that offer of spelling it out?” you say breathlessly, and Remus smiles gently.

“We could say it on three,” he suggests, and you laugh.

“Merlin, we're like toddlers. Fine, on your count, then,” you reply with a nod, heart a jackhammer in your chest.

“One... Two...” he pauses for a second, and you let out a breath.

He's fully facing you, as well, and you see a glint in his eyes that's so familiar yet so new.

“Fuck this,” he says before the last count, and your eyes widen. “I love you, Y/N. I'm- I'm in love with you.” he admits, shutting his eyes like he's ripping off a particularly menacing bandaid.

You don't respond for a moment, mouth open in shock. But as soon as you snap out of your trance, you notice the boy’s posture; he's nervous, recoiled as if he's worried you wouldn't say it back.

You place a delicate hand on the side of his face, thumbing over his cheek, and he relaxes at your touch, still not opening his eyes.

You softly press your lips to his, and he responds instantaneously, one hand reaching to pull you in by your waist, the other resting on your cheek.

There's a fire exploding inside you, and it’s glorious, golden sparks erupting after being kept inside for so long. Your lips are dancing in a delicate rhythm with his, like they were meant to. He tastes like chocolate and bliss, and his hand wraps in your hair, tongue swiping over your lips gently.

After what feels simultaneously like an eternity and no time at all, you break away for air, resting your forehead against his.

“Now it's my turn to infer from that,” he breathes after a moment, and you smile.

“Not quite as cryptic, you'll find.” You smile, kissing him again. “I love you, Remus Lupin. Always have, always will.”