#that is not even my longest tag by fucking FAR

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of injury, death, human trafficking.

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: It was the final showdown! And you died.

A/N: We begin to wrap everything up :(

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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You crawled back toward consciousness with the unsettling sensation of deja vu. Bright lights, pain in your abdomen, the sound of machines incessantly beeping. You tried to pull the covers over your head, but your left arm didn’t seem to want to move.

Well, that was new, anyway.

“The fuck am I in the hospital for now?” you murmured to yourself. “One miscarriage wasn’t bad enough?”

“Ex-fucking-scuse me?” came Tony’s shocked voice from your bedside. “One fucking what now?!”

You slowly opened your eyes. “Uh… hey, Boss. How’s it going?” You glanced over at Tony; he looked terrible, eyes red rimmed and puffy. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve been crying?”

Tony barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? You had us all scared half to death, Kiddo. Pretty sure it took ten years off my life when word came in that Carthage fucking shot you. You know, you were clinically dead for seven whole minutes?! Longest seven minutes of my life– even longer than the Seven Minutes in “Heaven” I spent with Alice Seymour in 7th grade.” Tony shivered.

You blanched. “Seven minutes? Holy shit. I’m sorry, Tony.” You weren’t sure why you were apologizing; you hadn’t shot yourself, after all, but you still felt awful for making him worry.

Tony came to sit alongside you on the bed. “Hey,” he began, taking a hold of your hand, “you have nothing to be sorry for. At all. You warned us from the beginning that Carthage was rotten. We should have done a better job of protecting you from her. I should have done a better job of protecting you.”

“It’s not your fault, Boss,” you told him, squeezing his hand. “None of us could have realized how far gone she was until it was too late. Where is she, anyway? On a one-way trip to The Raft, I hope?”

Tony looked away from you, toward the door of your room. “Not necessary,” he said. “She’s dead.”

You sat up quickly, wincing in pain at the tugging in your abdomen as you did so.

“Easy there, Kiddo,” Tony said, helping you get upright. “You had major abdominal surgery just a few days ago; you’re gonna pull your stitches.”

You let go of Tony’s hand to gingerly prod at your stomach, flinching as you came into contact with the heavy gauze that concealed your incision. Looking back up at him, you asked: “What do you mean, ‘she’s dead,’ Tony? What the fuck happened?”

Tony cleared his throat and poured you a cup of water, as if needing to busy his hands while he considered how to go about saying what he had to tell you. “We pulled up in the Quinjet probably only a few moments after you were shot,” he said, handing the cup to you. You took it gratefully, not realizing until that moment how parched you’d been. “Barnes was holding you in his arms, just sobbing, and… God, Pocket, there was so much blood. We thought you were done. I’ve never– I’ve never seen him like that before. He wouldn’t let go of you. Cap and Point Break had to hold him off so we could get you into the jet’s onboard Cradle; he just didn’t want to be apart from you. Kept screaming it was all his fault, he should be the one who was dead instead of you. Can’t say that, in the moment, I disagreed. We ended up having to sedate him.”

As Tony spoke, bits and flashes of the event came back to you– Bucky offering himself to Jade in exchange for your life, seeing his lips on hers, the sensation of Jade’s bullet ripping through your flesh. 

“Once we got you stable, we went back out and found Carthage’s body. I’m not one hundred percent sure what happened, because Barnes still won’t talk about it, but, well, her neck was snapped.”

You blinked in shock. He’d killed her, for you. When it mattered, when it truly, truly mattered, he’d picked you over her. “Wow,” was all you could get out.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed softly.

“Where is he, Boss?” you asked, looking up at him desperately. You needed to see Bucky right away, needed to thank him for saving your life, to apologize.

“I’ve, uh… I’ve been kind of keeping him away,” Tony admitted reluctantly.

“Why?!” you asked, hurt and shocked. “Why would you do that, Tony?”

Tony looked at you defensively. “Because he admitted what he did to you, Pocket. How he hurt you, again, and again. All of it. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t going to let him come near you after everything he’d done. It was his fault you were in this mess to begin with. He’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill him. If he had stayed away from her, been faithful to you from the beginning–”

“Tony,” you interrupted, putting a hand on his forearm to stop him. “Please trust me when I tell you that the situation is a lot more complicated than it appears from the outside, okay? I’ve… I’ve seen things, things that showed me how badly she manipulated him, got into his head. I’m not saying he’s blameless,” you were quick to add when Tony opened his mouth to protest. “He’s got a lot to make up for– I know that; I’m just saying that the party who bears the most responsibility is dead. I want to see him. Please. I owe him my life.”

Tony pursed his lips as he assessed you, mulling over your words. “It’s against my better judgment,” he finally said, “but it’s your call. I’ll send him in.” He stood up, leaning forward to kiss the crown of your head. 

“Tony, wait!” you said, before he could go too far. “The missing women. The strip club. What happened with them?”

“You did good, Kiddo,” he said with a smile. “Once we got you outta there, we were able to retrace your location to find the Hydra base where they were keeping you and get into their files– they kept records of every woman they sold, who they sold to, and where they went. SHIELD’s already picked up several of the buyers and identified the key players based on what you’ve been able to get us. We’ve been able to recover seven of the women so far, but Nat’s optimistic we can track down even more.”

You let out a shaky exhale. Seven women, saved from trafficking, with your help. “That’s amazing, Boss,” you said.

“And as for the club, Kozlov’s been arrested on a slew of charges; don’t anticipate he’ll be breathing fresh air anytime soon. And your buddy? Dimitri? He was real happy to start cooperating with us if it meant he didn’t go down with his boss.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief, a weight being lifted off your shoulders. They weren't going to be able to hurt anyone else, you thought to yourself. You’d help make sure of that. Maybe you could make your amends to Chloe, after all.

An idea came to you then. “Boss,” you began, “how much money’s in my swear jar now?”

Tony gave you a bemused look. “Kind of a weird time to be asking about that.” He pulled up his phone and touched the screen several times before letting out a low whistle. “Well I’ll be damned, Pocket. You certainly have quite the potty mouth– there’s almost half a mil in there!”

“I’ve sworn half a million times in the last twenty months?” you asked, incredulous.

“Do you doubt it?” Tony answered, grinning.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” you said with a smile. “Do me a favor? Take that money and divide it up among the surviving women, okay? They’re gonna need resources for a fresh start.”

“That’s real generous of you, Kiddo,” Tony said, giving you a fond smile. “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, well, I learned from the best,” you half-shrugged, grinning back at him. “Gotta pay it forward, right?”

Tony nodded, then turned toward the door. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of,” he said. “And I’ll send in Barnes."

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Oh, and if there’s one thing this entire ordeal’s taught me,” he said as he put his hand on the doorknob, “it’s that life is short. I’m gonna ask Pep to marry me.”

“Tony!” you exclaimed, delight coursing through you. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!”

Tony smiled at you. “Be flattered, kiddo. You’re number two to know.” With a wink, he was out the door.

You closed your eyes, smiling to yourself. Tony Fucking Stark was finally settling down. You honestly thought you’d never live to see the day. Fuck, you almost hadn’t. You felt a dull ache in your left arm. It had been strapped down in a sling to  your torso, preventing you from moving it, and you had the sinking suspicion there were probably pins holding the fracture in place. You were certainly in line for a long road to recovery.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[sarah-sandwich]

I posted 20,583 times in 2022

318 posts created (2%)

20,265 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@pablothefrog

@butch-himbo

@merlin-made-me-bi

@lucianinsanity

@food-forever-hufflepuff

I tagged 4,466 of my posts in 2022

#parkner - 142 posts

#peter parker - 128 posts

#harley keener - 124 posts

#dndads - 115 posts

#humans are good - 104 posts

#parley - 84 posts

#amazing art - 78 posts

#sswrites - 71 posts

#keenker - 64 posts

#nwh - 59 posts

Longest Tag: 105 characters

#but she said it in a jokey way so i welcomed her sarcastically 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️

I sent 2 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Can we take a minute to geek out over fucking Amanda??? Like ep one she was SO quiet while the others were farting around and gleefully ripping up the flooring of Anthony's world to watch him dig (affectionate) but then it was her turn and she was RUTHLESS and EFFICIENT and METHODICAL and that contrast was soooo funny

Then in ep 2 the main cast has the measure of her and they're wary but Beth is going in for the kill in her clumsy oafish way (still affectionate) but Amanda meets every move and spins it back on them ALL WHILE DRAWING BETH INTO HER WEB

Then there's ep 3 where she finally clues you in that she is also unhinged but with such COMPETENCY that you don't see it for what it is until you're already in love with her and you know that she will eat you alive and you will let her

74 notes - Posted July 7, 2022

#4

''YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO LOOK AT MY BABY PICTURES GIVE THAT PHOTO ALBUM BACK TO ME'' ''but it's from a time when you were actually likable 🥺''

from the prompt list please??? anyone you want, I just think it’s funny and you could do this justice

So uh, as you know this got out of hand lol

Here it is! The much anticipated fake dating prompt fill that blossomed into a 7 chapter fic :)

Two boys, both alike in dignity--by which I mean they have none. Harley is lying to his family about why he hasn't come home in years. Peter is lying to everyone about pretty much everything. Together they can make everything worse by lying together (heh) in Rose Hill while Harley pretends to his family that Peter is his long-term boyfriend and Peter pretends that he hasn't had a crush on Harley since the day he met him--or no. He DOES pretend he has a crush-- Wait, no he doesn't pretend because he HAS a crush so he pretends to pretend that he--

It's complicated.

Read on AO3

81 notes - Posted April 19, 2022

#3

I have to know what “the olive garden revelation” was omg

Omg it makes me wheeze cry laugh every time. Griffin finds out (as an adult! in front of an audience! on a stage!) that Justin and Travis pranked him as a kid by telling him that you can take the raw fettuccine out of the display containers at olive garden and munch on them.

Here is the audio clip (it's from a live show but its decent quality) I just listened to it again and I'm sweating from laughing so hard

88 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

#2

A Peach Like You - sequel to Peaches ain't Pretty

Peter Parker never considered himself special. Maybe, yeah, having radioactive blood and spider-like abilities makes him different and his vigilante career is out of the norm and fine, yeah, he's on the autism spectrum. Call that "special" if you want. But under all that, he's a regular college student juggling three jobs, an internship, a sad mockery of a social life, and saving the city day and night. The usual stuff.

So when he somehow catches the eye of a blue-eyed mech engineering major with an accent that could turn even Aunt May's brick-hard mashed potatoes to mush, he's only thrown for a minute before he writes it off as a fluke. What could a guy like that see in a guy like him anyway?

Chapter One Will Be Posted January 5th CST

Check below the Read More for a sneak peak

Chapter 1: I’m an only child and I’m desperate for attention

Peter’s web-line, tangled desperately between numb fingers, holds as he slams into glass. Air punches from his lungs, but the pane stays intact. He fumbles for his footing, slipping in the smears of scarlet left from his meeting with the window, then begins the slow miserable climb to the ninth floor. His abdomen burns. His head pounds.

He’s not going to pass out. He’s not going to pass out. He’s…

He’s so fired. The pizzas he was supposed to deliver are long gone by now, whether he can remember where he stashed them or not. His boss is going to be furious with him for flaking on his deliveries again. He may have attempted the tried and true ‘It’s not my fault, Mr. Leonetti, I was mugged,’ routine if it wasn’t for all of the cell phones that recorded Spider-Man getting stabbed not two doors down from the pizza shop. He can’t risk anyone making the connection between Spider-Man and Peter Parker.

What was he supposed to do? Not drop everything and strip down to his suit to stop the bodega from being robbed? Not web the clerk out of the way of the stray bullet? Not take the lucky stab between his ribs during his distraction?

Actually, he could have done without that last one. Ned has enough on his plate without having his mess of a childhood best friend slithering through his window every other day with life-threatening injuries.

He breathes a sigh of relief as his fingers curl over Ned’s window sill. His Friend of Spider-Man sense must be tingling because it’s wide open. A strange choice for February, but you won’t hear him whining about his unprecedented change in luck.

He pushes the screen until it pops free of the frame then rolls into the apartment. He lands with a thud on gray carpet and groans as the impact aggravates his stab wound. It’s not until the haze of pain clears enough to see the unfamiliar light fixture above him that he considers how unlike Ned it is to have the window open on a day that’s threatening snow.

Ned hates winter. He hates leaving the window open even a crack and often compromises by stuffing a towel in the crack to keep the draft out because, as much as he hates winter, he loves his best friend more.

As he blinks at the rest of the room, dazed from blood loss, he slowly puts together that this is not Ned’s apartment. It smells wrong for one thing. Like burnt bread and blood (the latter of which, yes, he realizes is his fault), but also there’s a distinct lack of life in this place that’s so contradictory to Ned’s merch and memorabilia-stuffed apartment that for a moment he thinks maybe this one is vacant. No shoes by the door. No pillows on the couch. No DVDs next to the TV. No takeout containers. No books. Nothing.

Other than a mason jar that’s half-filled with odd little trinkets on an otherwise barren bookshelf, the place is lifeless.

Well, nearly lifeless.

In the same moment he decides he ought to haul his broken body out the window and try for the correct window, a tall blond someone wearing a knit sweater and jeans that have been worn soft over time steps into the room waving a towel at the smoke lingering near the ceiling.

The man freezes as they lock eyes.

Oh, mother fudger.

183 notes - Posted January 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Anthony: and he cuts your head off

Everyone: *SCREAMING*

Beth May: Is she okaaayy???

224 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[mieltelecheycrema]

yk no one really talks about the ending glitch thing (from what ive seen) in f and c like yeah its a whole blink and you miss it type thing but the implications !!!!

more in tags

[heartbreakfeelsogood]

I posted 5,485 times in 2022

That's 5,485 more posts than 2021!

899 posts created (16%)

4,586 posts reblogged (84%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 4,466 of my posts in 2022

Only 19% of my posts had no tags

#fob - 1,463 posts

#patrick - 788 posts

#op - 596 posts

#fanart - 368 posts

#pete - 352 posts

#asks - 281 posts

#abt me - 255 posts

#the owl house - 223 posts

#paramore - 187 posts

#srar era - 184 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and ‘girl’ or ‘boy’ or ‘guy’ or whatever doesn’t count. that’s the equivalent of asking someone their pronouns and getting ‘i’m a girl’ as a

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

See the full post

415 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

#4

+ transparent:

425 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

#3

See the full post

441 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

#2

x

509 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

799 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[euaphoric]

HIGHWAY TO HELL ♱ 𓏲ּ [J.J.K.] preview

♱ starring… jeon jungkook x f!reader | rockstar!jk x tattoo artist!reader | 1980’s au | established relationship | ft. all other bts members as bandmates and yoongi is the manager !

♱ genre/warnings... pwp, a mixture of angst and fluff, smut, takes place in the grungy, rugged underground music scene of NYC in the 80’s, o/c used to be a groupie but is now jk’s gf, this fic is going to be very chaotic… there’s a lot of warnings for this including: dark humor (nothing offensive), toxic relationship, the ‘i literally need you to survive or else i’ll die’ trope, o/c is jk’s muse, he fr worships his girl as if she’s some otherworldly deity, attempting to delve into the complexities of mental instability ?? (they’re both mentally fucked in the head tbh), autophobia/monatophobia, DARK/HEAVY THEMES!, small mentions of stalking, mentions of mental health struggles, self injury, heavy alcohol & substance abuse, jk has a belly piercing (yes, that is a warning in itself), jk plays bass and is main vocals of the band, he argues w/ his bandmates a lot, switch!jk but he leans more towards dom, sex while under the influence, size kink, y’all are both super nasty and kinky like omg this is gonna be insaneeesfds, also heavy exhibitionism: they literally have sex in front of ppl multiple times (oops). i will be sure to include the rest once it’s fully finished !

♱ synopsis... when moving to the big city, you had only three things in mind: start life anew— a fresh, clean slate that allows you to bloom into whomever you wish to be, open your own tattoo parlor, and to meet and fuck as many rockstars as you possibly can. in fact, all was going according to plan thus far, however, the minute you crossed paths with him is when life takes a pivotal shift for the better and possibly, worse. you’ve become inseparable since day one, building an intense co-dependency that not even the devil himself can seem to unravel. a story of the submerging tension between two lonely, lost souls navigating youth through glitz, glamour, sleepless nights, and reckless hotel parties every weekend. it’s as if everyone else exists to come and go; besides the unconventional love that you cultivate together. OR,, just lots of sex, drugs, & punk rock.

♱ run time... will be over 10k+ words

♱ soundtrack... seek & destroy metallica, you shook me all night long ac/dc, purgatory iron maiden, she the misfits

i had this idea for sooo long omg, it’s slightly different than how i originally imagined it here, but i’m finally doing it so yay for meee !! i’ve never tried a concept like this before saur i’m def going to research a lot for this since i wasn’t born in the 80’s lol. i honestly have no idea how long this will be but me thinks it’ll be around 10-12k words ??? ( it’s going to be the longest thing i ever made .. T^T ) but my goal this year has been to start writing longer fics so i’m excited ! if anyone wants to be tagged once it’s uploaded just lmk <3

[angelltheninth]

OMG YOU GOT INTO HAZBIN! CAN YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE SMUTTY VOX HCS? IM STARVING AND I NEED TO BE FED 🤤🤤🤤

I got into Hazbin when the Pilot came out lol.

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, choking, height difference, recording, name-calling, voyeurism, masturbation, toy use

A/N: Hazbin has been my obsession for the longest time, I'm glad so many more people are into it now.

You are the perfect blowjob height for him and he takes advantage of that constantly

Porn is just the recordings he has of you, and of you and him fucking

Will have you giving him a blowjob while he does his news broadcast or his podcasts, and if you think he cares that his viewers can hear you sucking and slobbering on his cock you're wrong

Chokes you while he a tells you to smile for the cameras while he pushes his cock balls deep in your hole

Until he hears your breath hitch he won't stop squeezing his hand around your neck

It will leave marks on you but he knows you get off on that shit

Loves it when you admit being a slut for him

Especially in while he's recording so he can play it back when you deny it

His sex toy collection is vast, perks of being one of the VVVs

But you're his favorite toy by far, and you do a much better job getting him off

That being said he will control the toys you use, turn them on while you're talking to someone other then him so you can moan his name in front of them while you squirm

Knows you know he uses his cameras to spy on you when you masturbate

You can even hear his electronic static crackling as you approach your climax

It he likes what he sees he will zoom to your location and fuck you himself

[heizlut]

Me & The Devil

alternative (dual yandere) version here

cw: non-con, dub-con, heavy manipulation, gaslighting, somnophilia, dacryphilia, yandere, DARK CONTENT

this fic is no joke when it comes to darker content, extreme trigger warning. read at your own risk

tags: yandere!dottore, fem!reader, mostly proofread but there still may be some minor errors here and there

word count: 4.5k this is the longest one i’ve written so far.

check out my masterlist here!

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷

Finally you have a chance to break free. The sound of your bare feet slap against the cold floor as you try to run for an exit. Your breathing is heavy, teary eyes full of hope thinking that today is the day you can finally escape him. Right before you can reach the exit, a large hand grips your arm tightly, causing you to stumble and fall to your hands and knees. You’re flipped over onto your back with him looming over you with a smirk on his face, “Going somewhere, my love?”. Dottore. How did this even start? When did it even start?

—

You were just a curious akademiya student. Many said you were too curious for your own good but you always brushed them off. You couldn’t help that you were so curious about the things that were forbidden to be researched. The more someone tells you not to do something, the more you want to just say ‘fuck it’ and do it anyways. It didn’t help when you found some curious files and notes left behind from a student named Zandik. After asking around and getting strange looks from others, you were about to give up on this Zandik guy. You bumped into something hard causing you to drop the notes and files you had found and you land hard on your ass. When you looked up, you saw a tall man with blue hair wearing a mask that hid his features.

He didn’t think anything of you at first until he saw what had scattered on the ground. With a smirk, he held out his hand to you, “I apologize. I must not have been paying attention to where I was going.” You grabbed his hand, trying not to wince at the pain from having landed so hard, “I should be the one to apologize. I’m the one who ran into you.” The man laughed it off and bent down to help you gather your papers which caused you to push him away.

Your reaction made him raise an eyebrow under his mask, “What? Do you have something to hide, little one?” You felt your face heat up at the accusation and the nickname. It felt like he could see right through you, “N-no.. It’s just-“ You sighed as you gathered your thoughts. “If you’d like, we could go somewhere else if you’d like to tell me about it?”, he offered with a smile that you couldn’t quite decipher. You nodded and gave a small smile in return, “It would be nice to have someone to share this with. Thank you.”

The man you learned was named Dottore. He listened to everything you explained with just a sly smirk on his face. The mask he wore made it hard for you to decipher his true feelings, but the fact that he had sat there and listened with some sort of intrigue to what you were saying made you feel like you were finally understood. He made no move to berate you for what you chose to have an interest in.

Little did you know that the files and notes you had found were all from him and his previous research from before he was expelled from the akademiya and changed his name. He was more than happy to entertain your curiosity. It shocked you when he offered his hand to you for the second time that day and asked if you would like to pursue your curiosities further with him as your mentor. You stared at him in surprise, then you took his hand. That’s where it all began.

—

At first, Dottore kept some distance from you. You didn’t mind as you were so caught up in finally being able to pursue your true interests. Little by little he began to cut you off from the rest of the world without you paying it any mind. It started with him offering for you to stay one night since it had gotten late. He said he worried about you going home alone in the dark. You naively accepted and soon it became a habit to stay with him after long days of researching and experimenting together. Dottore was good at hiding his true intentions and the dark things he was doing without your knowledge. You had no idea the other types of experiments he conducted. He was so careful to show you only what he wanted you to see.

Next he made an offhand comment about you just dropping out of the akademiya and studying under him full time. He had only said it when you came to his place after yet another tough day at the akademiya. You were going on and on about how you wish you could fully pursue your true interests without interference. After he made the comment about you just dropping out, you gawked at him for a few moments to which he smiled, “It’s all up to you. But just know… You’ll never reach your true potential if you’re trapped under the akademiya’s thumb.” You mulled over his words.

What he said was true. You just wanted your freedom. To do as you pleased without anyone getting in the way or giving you dirty looks or rejecting your proposals time and time again. “I can give you everything you need. All you need to do is say the word.”, is what he said as he watched the gears turn in your head. You looked up at him, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I’ll drop out. Just promise me that you’ll help me pursue what I want.”

The smile on his face grew. If you hadn’t been so naive to his real intentions, you would have noticed that his smile held insanity and obsession. He wanted you all to himself and he was finally getting closer to what he wanted.

—

Days turned to weeks, which turned to months. Dottore was everything to you whether you had realized it or not. You had fallen right into his trap. You had become dependent on him, cut off from the world around you. When was the last time you saw the sun or felt it warm your skin? You didn’t really seem to care. You had gotten incredibly far with your research all thanks to Dottore’s help. He gave you everything you needed. Everything you wanted. No questions asked. He never even asked for anything in return.

Now that began to bother you. You felt like you had to repay him in some way but whenever you brought it up, he would brush it off with a laugh and smile saying that seeing you happy with what you were accomplishing together was more than enough. You always failed to notice the way his gaze on you would change when your back was turned to him. The way it travelled down your body, taking in every inch of you, committing it to memory… It was dark and hungry…

You had reached up to grab a new test tube from a shelf you couldn’t quite reach when you suddenly felt hands touch your waist. A hard chest pressed against your back. Hot breath on your neck… “Let me get that for you.” You blush at the closeness. Dottore had never touched you like this. You didn’t see him as anything other than a mentor and a friend. He never made it known that he had felt anything different for you.

You didn’t know whether you liked his touch or closeness or if you wanted to push him away. You were frozen. Conflicted. You snap out of your thoughts when he let out a breathy laugh, the test tube held in front of your face, “Aren’t you going to take it?” You swallow hard and take the test tube from his hands, muttering your thanks.

His hands linger, moving down your body. You swear you could feel something hard poking your ass but you shake your head to push the thoughts away. There’s no way he thought of you like that. No way you thought of him like that. Sure he was handsome in his own strange way but you never really saw him this way. You turn around to move from his grasp only to be pushed further into the shelf, the spare glassware rattled from the impact.

Dottore’s sly smile. The dark look in his eyes. It made you shiver. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh? Anything you want to share?”, he was taunting you. You just knew he was. You gently push him away to create distance and he lets you, letting out a small laugh, “You don’t have to tell me. Your face says it all.” Your eyes widen at his words and you quickly make your way back to your experiment table.

—

Nothing else happened for awhile after that. It bothered you. Did he really see you as something more than just someone he was mentoring? You feel yourself grow slick with arousal as you lay in your bed. You kept replaying the way he looked at you, the way he touched you… You let out an annoyed groan as you rub your thighs together to quell the aching need you were feeling. You couldn’t be thinking of him this way. You didn’t even know what your feelings were towards him, let alone his feelings towards you. You let yourself fall asleep, frustrated, sexually and emotionally.

He stood there over your sleeping form. His cock stirring to life and he rubbed himself through his pants at how innocent and soft you looked as you slept. You turned onto your back in your sleep, muttering his name. His eyes squeezed shut as he palmed himself with even more pressure. You had said his name in your sleep.

You must be dreaming about him. Dottore lets out a soft groan of satisfaction. His sweet little student was thinking of him even in their sleep. He pulled his aching cock from his pants, pumping his length over your sleeping form.

Suddenly you let out a soft, breathy moan of his name, causing him to release all over your face with a choked groan of his own. He smirked as he kneeled down next to you, tucking himself back into his pants, and admiring how much prettier you looked with his cum splattered across your sweet face. He takes his finger, running it through his release. Once he gathered some on his finger he gently pressed it into your slightly parted mouth.

He hoped that you would wake up with the taste of his essence still on your tongue. Dottore removed his shirt and used it to gently wipe the remaining cum off your face. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered, “Sweet dreams, little one.”

—

You woke up the next day with a strange taste in your mouth. You swallow a few times to get rid of the foreign taste which doesn’t help. You sigh, pushing yourself up to sit on your bed, your knees pressed tightly to your chest. Flashes of the dream you had the night before flutter through your mind. Images of Dottore touching you even more than he did that day in the lab against the shelves. Images of him kissing your neck and down your body…

The dream felt so real, you swear you could almost feel the lingering touch of his soft lips and calloused hands on your body. You faintly remember when the dream changed to him entering your room, jerking his cock over your body as he came on your face. The strange taste in your mouth comes to mind but you brush it off. It was all just a dream… right?

You let the water from the shower run down your body as you feel yourself starting to overthink everything that had to do with Dottore. He was just your mentor. You had to keep it that way or you may risk him finally kicking you out and leaving you on your own. The thoughts made you realize just how much he consumed your life little by little. You were in too deep to let it all fall apart just because you were confused by your feelings. You needed him.

—

A few days had gone by. Things seemed to have gone back to how they always used to be between you and Dottore. You felt like maybe you were just crazy for thinking he saw you as something more than just his student. Little did you know that Dottore was planning even more deep in his twisted mind. His careful image and manipulation guided you exactly where he wanted you. Dependent. Needing him. For everything. He wanted your thoughts to be on him. Only him.

As time went on, you noticed the little lingering touches he gave you. The way he would press himself against you. How close he would get, just inches from your face with that sly smile on his own mostly hidden face. It was driving you insane. You were so confused. Did you want him as more than a mentor to your forbidden research? No. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to.

You sat across from Dottore, pushing the food around your plate with your chopsticks, caught up in your own thoughts. He studied you curiously, wanting to pry into your mind, “Is everything alright? You know you can tell me anything. I’ll listen.” You snap out of your thoughts, looking up at him with a dazed expression, “What are we doing…” He tilts his head slightly at your words, “What do you mean by that? We are research partners. I am your mentor. Does that not satisfy you?” Your face heats up, “N-no.. I-I mean it does satisfy me. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You didn’t have to do all this-“

Before you could continue rambling he cuts you off, his palms pressed against the table as he leans over it. So close to you now… “Always so humble and sweet…” Dottore tucks a strand of your hair behind your hair and leans even closer, “Too bad I’m not satisfied.”

His words chill you to the bone. You’re frozen in place as he smirks, “Be mine. I can give you even more than what I give you now. After all… it’s only fair.. You owe me so much…” You push him away, quickly standing from your seat, “No.” He looks up at you, a dangerous glint in his eyes as a distorted smile creeps onto his face. He stands up, walking closer to you. Your heart is pounding, threatening to break free from the confines of your chest. “No?”, He laughs, but there is no humour in it. “You think you can tell me no?”

Dottore moves to caress your cheek, but you grip onto his wrist before he can. He huffs out a laugh, a crazed look in his eyes. He grabs both your wrists in one hand, pinning you to the wall, “You think you can stop me? You think I don’t know about the way you think about me? The sweet little dreams you have of me…” Your face pales. How did he know about the dreams…?

He now caresses your cheek with his free hand as if you were truly his lover all this time, “You’re easy to read, little one…” You try to squirm from his grasp only to make his smile grow wider, “You’re not going to leave me. Not now…” He leans in close to your ear and whispers, “Not ever.” He nips at your earlobe, pulling a gasp from your throat. You don’t want this. Maybe you do… Maybe he deserves it after all he’s done for you… No. No. Stop thinking like this. Suddenly you feel dizzy. Was it the way he had you pinned against the wall? How close he was? No. He had drugged your portion of the food. He smirks as your vision begins to fade to nothingness. “Mine.”

—

Your eyes slowly blink open. You move to stretch, only to find that your wrists have been cuffed to a metal bedpost. You look down and sigh in relief to see that you still had the clothes on that you had the night before. That was last night… right? Your heart jumps in your chest when Dottore appears in the room with a tray of food. “What’s going on? Please let me go, I promise I’ll do whatever you want”, you plead desperately. He just smiles and sets the tray down on the nightstand by the bed before sitting down on the bed. He reaches out and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “I’m afraid I can’t do that, little one.”

A tear slips down your cheek as you turn from his gaze. He clicks his tongue as he gently wiped the tear away, “Now, now. There’s no need for tears. Haven’t I treated you so well? What is there to cry about?” His saccharine voice made your heart ache. You turn to face him again, looking at him with glassy eyes and bottom lip trembling. Dottore tilts his head as he studies your expression.

He admits to himself that the sight stirs something within him and the feeling was not sympathy. He reaches for the bowl of warm soup on the tray and scoops a small bit into the spoon and holds it to your lips, “Be careful now. It’s still a bit hot.” You look from the soup spoon to his eyes, then back down. You give in and part your lips slightly. Your obedience bringing a smile to his face as he feeds you the first spoonful, “Such a good girl.”

You sputter from the heat, the soup dribbles down your chin causing Dottore to click his tongue again in annoyance as he slams the bowl back down onto the tray, “What a waste.” His voice is sharp and it feels as though it cuts right through you. Before you can apologize and beg for another chance, he begins tearing open your shirt; buttons flying across the room. He cups one on your breasts as he looks into your frightened eyes, then he squeezes.

You can’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as a sick sense of pleasure washes over you. Dottore chuckles softly at your change in demeanor and begins pinching your pebbled nipple between his fingers, “See? You like it…” You shake your head in defiance but he quickly grabs your throat with his other hand, “Don’t try to deny it.” The hand toying with your breasts travels down to your thigh and one finger presses against your soaked panties.

Dottore smirks at you as he moves your panties to the side and presses down on your clit with his thumb, drawing a small whimper from you, “Your little cunt is so soaked, it’s just begging for me to claim it.” You can’t help the tears that slip down your cheeks. You feel so ashamed for enjoying his touch when you felt that you shouldn’t be. You feel like you’ve been used this whole time. Was his true goal to mentor you or did he just want your body…to make you his?

Dottore leans in and licks the tears from your cheek as he slips a finger into your wet cunt. A shiver racks your body from both actions, letting out a quiet moan. He begins pumping his finger in and out in a slow, torturous way as he watches your face twist in both pleasure and disgust. His voice is low and sultry as his hot breath tickles your face, “You’ve thought about me doing this to you before, haven’t you? What a sweet little student you are… Here I was trying to be your mentor and you were thinking filthy thoughts about me…” Dottore lets out a devious chuckle when he feels your walls clamp down on his finger.

“For someone who doesn’t want this, you seem to be enjoying yourself so far”, he teases. He adds a second finger and begins to pick up his pace; his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. You try to hold back your moans but fail. It feels too good even though you’re trying so hard to hate it all. Dottore lets go of your throat and graos your chin, tilting your head slightly to the side. He licks a line up your neck then begins nibbling and sucking at your sensitive pulse point. He’s determined to leave his mark on your body to show you that you now belong to him and him alone.

The way his fingers pump in and out of you, his harsh kisses to your neck, and his thumb pressing and circling your clit bring you closer to orgasm, “G-gonna cum”, you mumble out as you moan. Dottore immediately stops what he’s doing, pulling his fingers away from your core and his lips away from your neck. More tears fall as you groan in dissatisfaction of having your orgasm completely ruined. He simply laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek, “Oh I apologize~ Did I ruin your climax?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He was immensely satisfied by your reactions and the tears you continue to spill.

Dottore begins unbuttoning his own shirt as he stares down at you, “You cum when I say you can cum. Besides… You’re only allowed to cum on my cock.” His words alone make your eyes roll back and your walls clamp down around nothing. He discards his shirt and tugs his pants down just enough to free his long, girthy cock. He gives it a few pumps as you watch, completely mesmerized yet terrified at the same time. There was no way you could take his cock in your pussy.

Dottore smirks at your expression and leans down, positioning his cock to your entrance, “Don’t worry, my love~ I’ll make it fit.” You try to move away from him, but your handcuffed wrists and your position on the bed make it impossible. He leans forward, rubbing his aching cock against your soaked cunt, letting your arousal coat his length. You let out a small whine when the head of his dick catches against your clit, your hips move upwards on its own accord. Dottore raises an eyebrow under his mask as his lips curve up, “Oh? Looks like someone wants more.” He brings his lips to your ear and whispers, “Beg for it. Tell me you want my cock inside this pretty little pussy of yours.”

You feel your heart flutter, unsure if it’s from fear of what he’s asking you to do or if you truly wanted this. You shake your head slightly which angers him yet again. Dottore grips your jaw tightly, his lips inches from yours, “Say it.” You let out a broken cry and his grip tightens further, “P-please.. Put i-it in…” His demeanor shifts back to satisfaction, “Put what in~?” You let out a shaky breath, “Y-your c-cock.. Put your c-cock in my pussy, p-please.”

He releases your jaw and presses a kiss to your forehead, “There you go. That wasn’t so hard now was it~?” You sniffle and shake your head. Dottore caresses your cheek gently, “This might hurt.” Without another word, he pushes his thick length inside your tight walls. Your cry morphs into a moan when he hits that spongy spot inside you in just the right way. Tears spill down your cheeks yet again, the pain and pleasure of having him inside you was incredibly intense. Seeing your tears only turned him on even more.

Dottore begins thrusting deep and hard with reckless abandon. The way your gummy walls gripped his cock was intoxicating to him. He needed more. You struggle against your restraints, desperate to grab hold of him as he battered your insides. Heavy breaths mix with moans and grunts as you both begin to lose yourselves in this moment. You can’t deny the way his cock made you feel despite wanting to push him away in disgust. You were disgusted by him and even more disgusted by yourself for finding any ounce of pleasure from what was happening to you.

Dottore’s thrust start getting sloppy as he gets closer and closer to orgasm, “Cum with me. Cum on my cock.” His voice comes out ragged and breathy as sweat beads on his forehead. As much as you wish you could stop yourself, you find yourself coming undone all over his cock. Your walls clamp down on his length, milking his own orgasm as he spills his sticky seed in your pussy. Dottore’s cock throbs inside of you as you both ride out the intense orgasm.

“You’re mine now. You’re never going to leave me. I’m going to pump you so full of my cum each day you won’t ever be able to leave”, his dark words haunted you as he pulls his cock out of you and tucks himself back into his pants. He takes a moment to admire just how ruined you look and his lips curve into an uncharacteristically sweet smile, “Beautiful…” he mutters. Dottore gets up from the bed and opens the handcuffs. Your arms fall to your sides and you rub at the chaffed skin of your wrists. Dottore holds his hand out to you, “Come. Let’s clean you up.” You hesitantly take his hand and follow him on shaky legs to the bathroom where he takes his time bathing you and giving you such care it makes you dizzy.

—

Weeks have gone by since the first time he forced himself on you. Not a day went by where he didn’t repeat his actions, making sure to stuff you so full of cum that it leaked from your sore pussy. This day in particular, although your wrists were cuffed yet again, Dottore didn’t cuff you to the bed. After he took care of you, he left you in the room alone. It took you a few minutes to realize that you weren’t attached to the bed. You get up from the bed and quietly make your way to the open bedroom door, peeking your head out to see if you could see or hear him.

You let out a breath and begin making your way down the hall as quietly as you possibly can. You didn’t know what he would do to you if he found you out of your room. Soon your eyes fall to a door further away that seems to have sunlight pouring out from under it. Your eyes well with tears and you no longer care about being stealthy.

Finally you have a chance to break free. The sound of your bare feet slap against the cold floor as you try to run for an exit. Your breathing is heavy, teary eyes full of hope thinking that today is the day you can finally escape him. Right before you can reach the exit, a large hand grips your arm tightly, causing you to stumble and fall to your hands and knees. You’re flipped over onto your back with him looming over you with a smirk on his face, “Going somewhere, my love?”

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷

a/n: honestly if you read this all the way through, i am sending a billion kisses to you through my phone. no i will not pay for your therapy, sorry

[pray4byron]

Hello! how is it going? I’m so happy to see your requests are back open and that you also write for Helluva Boss now, so I wanted to request something for that! One of my favorite works of yours are the Hazbin Hotel things of reader finding the characters crying and comforting them, so I was thinking I’d love to request the same thing but for Helluva Boss characters. Maybe Blitzø, Stolas, Fizz and Moxxie x gn reader (either platonic or romantic is fine) where reader find them crying and comforts them? ❤️

also sorry if I messed up my english, it’s not my first language :)

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳ø, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬, 𝐦𝐨𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐳𝐳 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

a/n: MY FIRST HELLUVA REQUEST LETS GOOO. my first few requests for helluva might be a bit ooc due to the fact that i’m much more of a hazbin girly lol. i literally almost started crying writing blitzø’s part so PLSPLSPLSPLS enjoy that one esp 😋 i think this is one of the longest things i’ve ever wrote tbh LOL but okay enough of my yapping, enjoy

warnings: possible angst(?), platonic!moxxie, profanity, mentions of sex in blitzø and fizzarolli’s part, use of yn in moxxie’s part, ooc writing in all 4 parts😭

proofread: yessir 😎

tags: helluva boss, stolas, fanfic, blitzø, moxxie, fizzarolli, hb, x reader

𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳ø

…always felt so trapped, despite the fact that maybe, just maybe, it was because of his own doing. and deep down, he knew that, whether he said it aloud or not.

he never thought the voices in his head could sound so real, he never thought his closest loved ones could seem so far, he never thought that his spirits could be so low, especially when those around him thought that they were so high.

when his daughter, his precious, his world, slammed her bedroom door in his face before screaming, “i fucking hate you!” against the clash of things being thrown from the other side of the door, he couldn’t stop his eyes from filling with tears.

blitzø didn’t know what in all of hell was up with him today, something mentally, that’s for sure.

he couldn’t help but feel a curl in his stomach watching millie and moxxie be all lovey throughout their shared shift, and not a good kind of ‘curl’, he couldn’t scroll through sinsta for three minutes without seeing a verosika-related post, either by her, or one of her sex deprived fans, and he had just gotten home from a meeting with stolas for their…monthly activities — and he couldn’t help but feeling like a shit boyfriend to the one he loved most, and fuck, even his loonie is mad at him now too??

the imp sluggishly moved across to the other side of his apartment and slumped onto the couch, his face being taken in by the warmth of the rough pillow, with his phone in his hands, he felt it vibrate.

if he got lucky, it might be an apology call from loona, as she was probably already out bitching with her friends at those stupid hound parties, thanks to vortex.

but no, it was a call, from you, normally he loved your late night conversations you both had with one another, but tonight? eh… it really wasn’t the time.

he stared at his screen for a moment, his eyes fixating on your contact info, the name displaying ‘babe’ with a red heart emoji, and the picture was a selfie you guys took together.

in the miniature version of the photo, it showed blitzø in a band t-shirt, sticking his tongue out with a ‘v’ to his lips, as you grinned at the camera, as you cuddled into his horns, it was the morning after your first time together, your bed head looked adorable, it could kill him.

he sighed softly, before pressing the ‘call’ button, putting the phone to his ear. “hey, babe!” you spoke from the other side, your voice slightly muffled from the quality of the mic in your phone.

that alone caused him to start sobbing all over again, ‘fuck fuck fuck fuck shit fuck fuck.’ he thought to himself, but that wasn’t what mattered now. you just sounded so happy, when he felt so shit, that’s one of the many things he loved about you, you were so strong, always saw the light.

“hey hey, shhh, blitzø, what happened??” you cooed through the phone, your heart ached for him, you rolled over onto your side while you laid in bed, curling up to the blankets, as you would to your boyfriend, if he were there with you.

all you got as a response were whimpers from the other line, a few hiccups here and there. “i need words, love.” you said, softly.

blitzø sniffled, “bad day..” his voice cracked as he spoke, although he did so, so softly, well obviously you’d seen him upset before, but never like this.

“wanna talk about it?” you asked, more than hesitant to do so, you knew blitzø was by no means good with his feelings, and you were lucky you got this far with him, considering some failed attempts from the past of you trying to ease him into opening up, but you had to try, it just felt right.

on the other hand, blitzø was just as nervous as you were, if not more, he had been through it all before, and for him, it had never ended pretty, but he loved you more than anything, and he knew he had to do this.

“yeah..”

you listened to every word he said, for hours, 9pm turned to 11pm, 11pm turned to 2am, and 2am turned to kicking down his apartment door at 3:19am to cuddle him to sleep on the couch.

and as tired as she was, as well as annoyed, loona couldn’t stay mad at her father after seeing him snuggled up next to you on the couch asleep.

especially when she snapped a picture and posted it all over sinsta…

guess who’s mad now, bitch?

𝐟𝐢𝐳𝐳

…never felt like he had gotten home so exhausted before. he didn’t even have the energy to sling himself across the palace to get to his bed quicker

he wanted to see you, he wanted to be with you, he wanted to be against you and your nice warm body, with your beautiful smile…

after walking up a few flights of stairs, taking an elevator here and there, walking down a hallway that was way too long to be one to begin with, he reached your shared room. he was home.

“hi, baby!” you exclaimed, happy to see your partner at last, pausing your show that was displayed on the big screen T.V in your room, hoping out of bed to peck your boyfriend on his cheek. “i missed you!”

he managed a tired smile, “i missed you too, sweetie.” fizz paused for a moment, looking away from your gaze before asking, “can i hug you?”

fizz had a lazy, but goofy grin on his face, extending his arms out to you, doing grabby hands. you give a pouty smile, your partner was so cute you couldn’t deal with it, “of courseee, froggyyy.” you said, babying your tone, pulling him in by the waist.

“you don’t gotta ask, y’know, we’ve been together too long to do that.” you joke with a chuckle, fizz laughs along with you, softer than yours, but still, he sinks into your arms before replying, “mammon’s business, despite its stressors, has taught me the importance of consent, and not just when it comes to sex”

fizz chuckled, his tired but soft tone still remained, as he pulled away from you just slightly to peck your nose, “i’d never wanna hurt you, honey, it’s better to ask, then to be sorry, y’know?”

you blink momentarily, you were not expecting that response out of him, you recover quickly, however, smiling at him, “you are just the sweetest.” you say, pulling him in for another hug, placing a peck to his neck, snuggling your face in it as you do so.

before you can even get another word out, fizz starts crying, attempting to sniffle back the tears.

you pull away instantly, “froggy? are you okay?” scanning him for any signs of harm or discomfort.

your boyfriend nods, makeup dripping down his face, “y-yes…” his lips trembling softly as he spoke. “did something happen at work today?”

fizz shook his head, “not really” he sniffled again, “just missed you.”

“awww fizzie, cmon!” you take his hand, pulling him the bathroom,

“let’s take a nice, warm bath, and then we can do skincare and watch that one show you like, and then we can go to bed, does that sound nice?”

“that sounds really nice… thank you…”

𝐦𝐨𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐞

…was your good friend since your early childhood years, his father had a business connection with your parents, which led to you both being babysat together a lot.

both of you were grown adults now, he was married to your gal-pal from your high school days, and you were engaged to one of the kids from your friend group back when you were in college, well, before dropping out.

other than your separate significant others, you were eachothers ride-or-dies, your for-lifers. you both went to eachother for practically everything.

so when moxxie knocks on your door while your spouse is out with friends, asking for help, you don’t hesitate to let him in.

you sit him down asking him what was the matter, and he gets fidgety immediately, stuttering out an attempted response before the tears start flowing, he starts crying about how he got into an argument with millie, and how scared he was that this might ruin their marriage.

instantly, as it was second nature to you, you scoot closer to him the couch, rubbing his back as he sobbed, still venting to you about the argument and how much he misses millie.

“look, mox, here’s what ya gotta do. just call her, and tell her everything you’ve told me, i’ve known millie since we were just freshies, she’s bound to understand!”

“i guess so.. thanks, yn.”

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

...was distraught, and even that was an understatement. his beloved octavia was lost, in los angeles, in the human realm.

you, stolas, and blitzø searched around what felt like all of fucking earth to find her, while millie and moxxie were off doing eachother who knows what.

stolas sighed, running a hand through his now human hair, his breath beginning to get noticeably more shaky, with blitzø walking ahead of the two of you.

“hey.” you say, putting a hand on his arm, “it’s gonna be okay.”

“but what if it’s not though? what she’s not okay? what if she’s in danger? or worse, what if someone took her?” his voice trembled more and more at the thought.

“no.” you start, turning stolas around to face you. “she’ll be okay.” you say, putting a hand onto his chest, “she’s smarter than you may think, she’s seventeen now! she’ll know what to do.”

“but what if something happens? and i’m not there to protect her?” stolas says, his movements going to a halt, blitzø looked at the two of you, before mouthing that he’ll meet up with the both of you later.

before you know it, tears well up in his eyes, without even thinking, he pulls you into a tight hug. “i just need to know my girl is okay…”

“she’ll be okay, sweetie.” you say, pecking his cheek, you pull back slightly, lovingly looking into his eyes, “and so will you..”

i do not permit for my work to be reposted, translated, or stolen. all rights go to signedmio. characters are not mine, unless stated, and belong to their rightful creators.

[sadesluvr]

Black Christmas - S. Raglan x Reader x M. Schmidt

Mike’s job as a park ranger becomes interesting when a mysterious couple stay five nights in a winter lodge.

A/N: HOLY FUCK. This is my longest and most tiring fic in a while (for all the right reasons) and I’m really excited to share it with you! It was loosely inspired by the req and work by @dilfbabie (HERE) but this has a festive, darker spin. This is for the people who voted for a Steve/William aligned reader, and is porn with plot. Further details in the tags, but this is reminiscent of a Jordan Peele film (aka the best kind of film), so dark themes lie ahead. I really hope you all enjoy it, consider it a Christmas gift ;)

Word count: 5.3K

Tags: SMUT (Porn with plot) / Slow burn / Fem! Reader / Threesome / Brief mentions of abuse / Alcohol usage / Oral sex, male receiving / Fingering / Blowjobs / Voyeurism / Cowgirl (position) / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Psychological manipulation / Deception / Dub-Con (if you squint) / Cheating --- MINORS DNI

MONDAY

Mike had grown to find that being a park ranger was far more amusing than working as mall security. He loved being surrounded by the natural world, and the relatively isolated nature of the job - outside of being with his colleagues - meant that he had time alone. Time to think.

It was even more enjoyable in the winter, specifically the Christmas period, where he revelled in the contrast of the bustle of the shopping district with the tranquil sightings of caribou and squirrels.

It was standard procedure for the rangers to meet the guests of the lodges they inhabited, simply as an act of trust building. Today was no different, except for the fact that he was standing at the door of one of the largest and lavish buildings in the resort, which only meant one thing…Snobby, rich inhabitants.

When you answered the door, your lips parted in a brief moment of shock, adjusting your relaxed posture so that you were upright. 

“Hi…” you said, an unplaced smile appearing on the corner of your lips. “Can I help you Officer…?”

“Mike,” he quickly added. “I’m sure you’ve seen me in the pamphlet, but I’m your designated ranger for this district. I’m here for your safety,”

You seemed somewhat confused at this, but also rather appreciative.

“Thanks…” you replied, absentmindedly fiddling with your necklace. “We— Uh, we haven’t looked at that much yet, actually…”

Mike nodded. You’d probably just moved in, likely more desperate for a shower and a nap than read pages of menial information. 

“My pager codes should be taped to the wall in the kitchen. Outside of patrols and emergencies — weather, rabid animals, that sort of thing — I’ll shouldn’t be in your hair,”

You cocked your head, seemingly interested in something about him. He was cute; boyish in contrast to his position that was usually reserved for those with blatant machismo. You wondered how he got it in the first place.

You nodded back, fingers lingering on the door as you swung it. “Oh, well that’s great, thank —“

“Babe? Who is that? You’re taking an awful while to — Oh, hello Officer…?”

Your interaction was interrupted by an older, taller man who emerged from the stairs behind you. He was dressed in an off-yellow utility suit - likely for skiing - in which a purple sweater peeked out from underneath. His hair was groomed and he wore large, slightly out of fashion glasses. He rested an arm above you, leaning it on the doorframe, and Mike squinted as he noticed that you’d shifted uncomfortably at the movement before trying to compose yourself.

He was lost in his thoughts, temporarily oblivious to the fact that the man was staring at him expectedly. 

“ — Mike, “ he stammered, giving the man his name.

“Your badge says Michael,” he replied, matter of factly.

“I prefer Mike,”

“Hm,” the man mused, the grumble seemingly coming from the depths of his chest. “That’s odd. Usually you guys are referred to by your last name…”

Mike wasn’t sure about you, but this mysterious man was definitely a rich asshole. They always assumed they knew everything. 

“It’s Schimdt — Michael Schmidt…but please, Mike is fine,” he replied, shifting his weight and pursing his lips. Strangely, the man’s blue eyes widened, and he cocked his head, softening his demeanour. Your gaze was fixed to the floor uncomfortably, and Mike could only decipher that you were embarrassed by the man’s insistence. The entire thing was borderline uncomfortable.

Yet, at that moment, he smiled.

“The name’s Steve,” he perked up, extending his hand for the smaller man to shake. He took it, and the man’s grip was firm and assuring, leading Mike to believe that he was some kind of businessman.

“Thank you, Mike,” continued sincerely, his voice noticeably soft. “Hopefully we’ll see you around then,”

Mike blinked and glanced at you. You were still, almost motionless, with Steve protectively hovering over you. He could tell he’d interrupted something.

“You too,” he replied, beginning to back away as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Happy holidays.”

TUESDAY 

During the ins and outs of his job, Mike had been trying to rack his brain, wondering if he’d ever come across this ‘Steve’ before, but to no avail. Perhaps he’d just gotten the wrong person. Michael was a very common name, after all.

He wondered about you, though. You were certainly younger than him, and although he’d come across his share of problematic couples, there was something far more striking about you than the rest. Steve’s authoritarian presence, coupled with your seemingly shy, introverted own, was usually a cocktail that led to disaster. He wasn’t a cop, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep tabs on you, would it?

It seemed that the time would come quicker than expected. The next morning he’d received a ‘111’ message from your residence, and hadn’t wasted time in making his way up to see you.

Upon being let in, he quickly found out that you were alone, with Steve having run out for groceries. Apparently, you’d been hearing ‘rattling and shaking’ in the vents, and simply feared being home alone with the threat of a robbery looming over your head. He’d checked the vents, scoping the interior out for signs of damage or entry, quickly finding out that badger had made a home inside the walls, earning a good chuckle from the pair of you.

“I’m so embarrassed!” you’d gushed, and Mike had smiled slightly at your flustered demeanour. You were dressed rather nicely for an early morning, in a chic turtleneck, pants and a pair of Moon Boots. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that you either came from, or was in contact with a lot of money.

“No problem…” he chuckled, feeling the quiet instinct to pry. “So, Steve just left you here, even with the threat of an intruder?”

Your shoulders visibly dropped at the fact. 

“Pretty much…” you sighed, masking your nervous energy by removing a mug from the coffee machine, pouring some fixings into the liquid before taking a sip, exhaling deeply.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you sighed, and Mike stiffened at the way you were so sincere, eyes locked on his own as you seemingly read his mind. “You have a point, but I like that he doesn’t baby me. But it does scare the shit out of me, knowing that we’re basically in the wilderness. Anything could happen…!”

He nodded.

“Well, you’re more likely to be attacked by kids at Santa’s Grotto than a bear,” he laughed. “I wouldn’t worry…”

You smiled, gaze unwavering as you sipped the drink, admiring the rich taste on your tongue. It was as if you were a siren, beckoning him towards you with an indescribable aura. There was more you wanted to say, but you couldn’t say it.

Biting the bullet, he cleared his throat. 

“Hey — This may not be my place, but is everything okay? When he came down the other day I saw you tense up,” Mike finished, and you let out a low hum as you contemplated the implications of his statement.

“We’re having a few issues,” you said, rolling your eyes, apparently brushing the situation off. “We’d been arguing a lot back home, and he booked this trip so we could regroup and stuff. I’m grateful, and I might even love him – but it doesn’t make me any less paranoid. I never know how he’s feeling, y’know? He’s a bit off sometimes…”

‘Off’. 

That was certainly one way to put it, Mike thought.

“...Does he hurt you?”

“God no,” you insisted. “He’s just — Well, let’s just say that he’s not all that open about his past,”

Silence. 

Mike let out a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips, musing on what you could’ve meant. He averted his gaze to glance around the cabin. It was rather lush, with floor to ceiling windows, marble countertops and rich oak accents; perhaps you were living beyond your means? Every item in his sight seemed relatively normal, blankets, keys, even a small Christmas tree with a few presents underneath. Still, it meant nothing. After all, nobody kept their secrets on display - no, those kinds of things were reserved for a bedroom…Or basement. Or the trunk of a car. Or in the psychological prison of the mind.

“…I should finish getting ready,” your voice interjected. “Thanks for the help, Mike,” you said sweetly, and he nodded before turning around and making his way to let himself out. As he placed a foot down the first step, something turned him around, and he was shocked to see that you weren’t far behind him. He hadn’t heard you follow him.

“By the way —“ he said, clearing his throat again. “I’m doing a patrol on Thursday, so I’ll be around…Just if you need to talk…”

He hoped he wasn’t being too forward.

You smiled, and this time Mike could see the emotion in your eyes.

“Good to know,”

WEDNESDAY 

One of the best things about the job were the treetop viewing platforms. It gave a 360 view of the resort, and Mike was able to see near and far with his pair of binoculars. It was certainly a task that Abby would’ve loved, if she were ever allowed to see him work.

On this particular morning, he was scoping out the usuals - people on the slopes, those taking photos, and the general assortment of vehicles that came in and out of the building. Still, he found himself looking westward toward the lodging you were living in. Call it paranoia, or call it doing his duty, he couldn’t pry himself from the familiar outline of the building.

All seemed normal, until he’d focused on the top window, the largest one of the house that sat behind a balcony. There was no sign of you on the outside, other than the table and chairs, but it was what was enclosed behind that glass that worried him.

Sure enough, you and Steve were there. He couldn’t make out from the resolution, but your face was pressed to the glass, with Steve behind you, clearly leaving little room for you to move. Mike felt his chest constrict, tongue swiping over his lips as he zoomed in, silently praying that you weren’t being hurt.

It turned out that hurt was the complete opposite of what you were undergoing. There you were; totally nude with Steve’s large arms around your throat, kissing your neck as he jerked, your body writhing about as he did. Mike knew all too well what you were doing, and it didn’t take long for the blood to rush from his cheeks to his cock, praying that his growing bulge wouldn’t be visible to anyone. 

Your eyes were half lidded as you scrambled to hold onto something, and Mike couldn’t help but wonder what your moans sounded like. Were you a screamer or a whimperer? Judging by the way the older man was ravishing you, it seemed to be somewhere in between the two.

Swallowing, he lowered the binoculars, pinching the bridge of his nose as he contemplated what he’d just done. There was no ridding the image from his mind, certainly not when he’d taken in every crevice of your body. He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets to try to suppress his base urges, storing the image securely for later.

THURSDAY 

Mike rubbed his eyes as he slid into the company car, ready to do his rounds. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. 

His grip remained firm on the steering wheel, carefully navigating the elevated roads. A fresh layer of snow had settled over the past day, and the last thing he needed was to skid off into the trees. It was funny that the winter wonderland around him couldn’t mask the fact it was in a place like this where his family’s life had been turned upside down — where his brother had been cruelly and callously taken…All under his watch.

Sometimes he couldn’t live with himself.

He was at the bottom of the final stretch of lodges when he noticed two figures trudging down the hill. Their arms were outstretched and faces scrunched - and Mike recognised you instantly. Steve was following after you whilst your arms were crossed, clearly having a temper tantrum of some kind. Squinting, he tried to make himself unnoticeable as he listened in.

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want me to see her! I love kids!”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to see her, it’s just — Well, it’s not that easy…”

“How could this be difficult? I’m your girlfriend. She’s your daughter. Someday we’ll have to cross paths, right? Unless I’m some silly fling to you…”

“You’re not, okay? You know I love you. It’s complicated - Vanessa, she’s a little volatile —“

“I wonder where she gets that from,”

Frowning, Mike came out of the car, slamming the door with force to alert the two of you. He crossed his arms around his chest, scatters of snow crunching under his boots as he made his way towards you.

“Is there a problem?” 

“Mike,” Steve said, any specific emotion unreadable in his voice. He looked the man up and down as if to intimidate, but Mike didn’t budge. “…What’re you doing here?”

“My job,” He said sternly, to which you smirked. His eyes darted between the two of you, and he cocked his head. “Is there an issue here, or?”

Steve cast you a frosty glare, to which you rolled your eyes. Shaking yourself off, you assumed a stricter posture before focusing your attention onto the smaller man in front of you.

“Mike —“ you said, matter of factly. “Be a dear and give me a ride to the leisure centre. I need a masseuse… I have a knot that just won’t go away,”

There was nothing but fury in Steve’s eyes as Mike nodded, stepping to the side to allow you to pass through to the vehicle. As he opened the passenger door for you, he could feel the older man’s stare, burning a hole in his neck and seeping out his insides. Shutting the door, he walked round to the other side of the car, jaw ticking and lips pulled into a straight line. He barely knew Steve, but what he did know was that he was an asshole.

The car ride was silent for all of two minutes when Mike perked up, clearing his throat whilst his eyes remained on the road. He’d only snuck occasional glances at your thighs, and even then he was unable to rid the image of you nude.

“…Who’s Vanessa?”

You scoffed, slumping back in your seat as you lay your head against the car window.

“So you did hear,” you chuckled defeatedly. “His daughter. He doesn’t want me to see her,”

“Oh,” was all Mike could say, and he decided to let you draw the emotion out of your body yourself.

“I hate when he does this!” You exclaimed, arms folded. “He makes me feel so dirty! Like, what the fuck is he saying? That I’m not good enough to meet her?!”

“I’m sure that’s not the case…” Mike said softly. “I mean, if it were down to me, I know I’d love for my daughter and girlfriend to hang out, especially during the holidays,”

The statement caused you to smile, and you shook your head defeatedly. 

“I’m shacking it up with her father during the best time of year…” you said incredulously, looking out onto the icy white paradise around you. “She probably hates me…”

The thought of a girl being without her father on Christmas was enough to make you sob, salty tears pricking your eyes and eventually running down your cheeks. Covering your mouth, you let out a little whimper that alerted Mike, his kind brown eyes briefly leaving the road to watch your face. He wasted no time in pulling over, making sure the car was locked in position before he placed an arm on your shoulder, the sudden contact making you break down even more. Before he knew it, you were crying on his shoulder, hiding your face in the fleece-like insides of his jacket. The man remained quiet, but rubbed your back, narrowing his eyes as he tried to piece together your relationship.

He was beginning to lose himself in your scent when you pulled away, eyes red and slightly watery. Your faces were close, and you stared at him in a way that both made him feel guilty and aroused, eyes wide but enigmatic. He followed your gaze to his lips, and he slowly parted his own to exhale, hyper aware of the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

Brushing your fingertips across his cheeks, you leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, your taste bittersweet as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. He certainly hoped Steve wasn’t close behind, as he didn’t let go, instead parting his lips to whisper your name as your tongues began to dance against the others’. His hands were all over your body, and he was fairly certain that your hand had made his way to his pelvis, threatening to brush his cock.

He cursed himself when he gasped at the motion, which had caused you to pull away. As if you’d been under a spell, you felt flushed, stuck between wanting to leave the car and staying with Michael.

“Thank you…” you whispered, glancing down before looking out of the windshield. The reception to the rest of the resort wasn’t far from here, and you decided you needed to clear your head. “You’re a great guy, Mike.”

FRIDAY

It had been twelve hours since you’d shared a kiss with Mike, and he was beginning to think he’d known you forever. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, even when they’d received a severe weather warning at midday. Needless to say, he was excited to ring your particular lodge…Just as long as Steve didn’t answer.

“Hey, it’s Mike…We’re expecting a snowstorm in a couple of hours and we’re instituting a 7PM curfew,”

“Shit…Really?” You’d said, somewhat muffled, and Mike could hear you biting down on the fingertips of your thumb. “ I didn’t hear anything about this — Steve’s down at the casino…”

“I’m sure word will get to him,” he insisted. “Stay safe —“

“Wait, Mike? C-Can you come over? I want to make sure everything’s reinforced…”

It was apparent that you and Mike both knew that the lodges, especially the ones you were living in, were more than secure. You’d smiled and let out an exasperated, somewhat overdramatic ‘Thanks’, and had clasped your hands in front of you, leisurely strolling around the building as he confirmed the obvious. You seemed more free, whimsical even, dressed in a deep red couture tracksuit, perfectly painted toes on display. Perhaps the kiss, and Steve’s absence, had brought out the real you.

He didn’t know he could have such an effect on someone. 

As he clicked off his flashlight, he smirked at you, to which you returned, and drummed his hand on the countertops.

“Is everything okay, Officer?” you lulled.

“A-Ok,” he hummed, watching as you walked closer towards him, a mischievous grin in your eye. He froze slightly when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his front, but found himself relaxing into your touch, his own hands finding your hips.

“We have the house to ourselves…” you purred, beginning to stroke the back of his neck, causing him to twitch. He was simply too cute. “…And the view is lovely. But the company’s better…”

He nodded, lost in the way you began to pepper kisses to his neck and breath gently into his ear, that he hadn’t realised that the snow was beginning to fall…and it wasn’t about to stop.

“Shit…” he said under his breath, ruining the mood as he scrambled for his radio. He should’ve been back to the base a while ago.

“This is Mike calling in. The storm came in earlier than expected. I’m holed in at Lodge 305 waiting it out,”

“Received,” the static said. “Keep us updated.”

You could barely contain your enthusiasm at the fact, and Mike chuckled as you excitedly raced to the wine cabinet. It was going to be an interesting few hours.

LATER 

“…Part of me hopes Steve never comes back,” you slurred, wine bottle in hand as you sprawled out on the king bed, your tracksuit top since stripped, leaving you in a vest. It was obvious to Mike that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, neither. 

Mike snickered.

“You’re still mad at him?”

“Yup,” you said, popping your ‘P’. “Asshole tried to propose to me at dinner yesterday. I said no,”

He was astonished that you said it so casually.

“Woah…”

“I know,” you grinned. “Wine?”

He looked up at you uncertainly. Not necessarily because it was wrong, but because he had no idea where the night would lead him if he took even as much as a sip. “I-I can’t, I’m on the job,”

“Just a little?” You whined. “For me?”

You watched him intently as he gave in, sipping the drink and holding it on his tongue. When he realised you were staring at him, you broke into a smile, edging closer to him on the bed.

“I love that you take your job so seriously,” you cheesed, running your finger down his arm.   “Was this a boyhood dream?”

“Far from it,”

“Hm,” you said curiously, cocking your head. You’d been trying to figure Mike out for a while now. “So what’s the goal?” 

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just to see my sister happy, I guess,”

Your heart fluttered, and there was an incomparable sensation in your loins, biting up towards your stomach. Whether it was the alcohol, the heating, or something else - your body swelled, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“You’re so sweet,” you cooed, in that oh-so famously position in front of his face, arms entangled in his.  “I love that about you, Mike,”

“Love?”

“I wish all guys were like you,” was all you said, and you thrust yourself on top of him, his back flat against the mattress. He didn’t stop you; letting you take charge as you straddled his torso, pressing your breasts against his chest as his hands found your body. He was insatiable, greedy yet very needy, and found himself succumbing to your every whim. 

Mike let out a whimper as you rubbed yourself gently along his clothed cock, growing irritated at the layer of fabric between you two. You nipped at his ear and giggled, dancing your hands along his body before you reached his bulge, giving it a gentle squeeze before you went back to teasing him with your hips.

“D’ya want me, Mike?” you purred. “Say the word and I’ll be yours…”

“Mmfh…” he grumbled, trying and failing to pull himself away from you, particularly as his hands found your hardening nipples, desperate to take one between his teeth. “What about Steve?” He said from below you. “I could get fired, I —“

Cupping his face in your hands, you stared him down, voice almost emotionless as you spoke.

“Mike, you may not know it, but when you’re rich, you can get away with anything…”

That was enough confirmation as he needed as he arched his back, angling himself up into your kiss. He was both surprised and aroused at how firm your grip was on him, legs quite literally locking him down below you. Your wanting mouth was wide as your chest heaved, grinning down at him as you slid your arm back, down his pants to touch his hardened cock. 

Mike shut his eyes and groaned as you tugged on him, expertly sliding your hips down his body, fixing yourself into position so that you were level his penis, your ass in his face.

“Touch me, Mike,” you slurred as you took him in your mouth, giddy as he pulled down your sweats a crack so that he could massage your ass, fingers lingering by your lacy underwear. His touch sent chills down your spine, prompting you to take him further, tongue flat against the underside of his organ. His index finger slipped into your crevice, stroking your walls before he slid a finger into your pussy, making you whimper. It had been so long since Mike had been touched - and had touched someone in such a way - that he wasn’t planning on letting go of the feeling any time soon.

Even if your boyfriend came in.

“Babe? I’m sorry, I got caught up in —“ 

“Steve!” You said sweetly, releasing Mike from your mouth with a ‘pop’. “How nice of you to join us!”

The wording struck Michael as odd, but he chalked it down to the thick layer of condescension in your voice. 

Steve stared right past you and towards Mike, narrowing his eyes. The younger man swallowed, wanting to push you off of him, but found himself drawn to the silent aura of the man, much more the way a bulge was visible in his pants also. 

“I can explain—“ he stammered, exasperated as you played with him in your hands, index finger and thumb squeezing the tip as your eyes darted between the two men. How were you so relaxed about this?

“No need to worry about it, Mike,” Steve said, his tone surprisingly sympathetic as he zipped down his own pants. “I don’t mind sharing her...In fact, I love showing my darling off,” he grinned, almost sadistically as he bared his teeth and dimples. Steve placed his larger, calloused hands on your neck, his thumb brushing your cheek affectionately as he did. Mike felt somewhat betrayed by the way there was a glint of happiness in your eye; much more the way he pulled you into a sloppy, passionate kiss as you stroked the older man instead of him.

Once the pair of you pulled apart, his blue eyes were clouded with lust as he patted your cheek, thumb tracing your lips before he pulled away. You kissed the digit tentatively, chin in the air as you glanced down at Mike, silent, but smiling. 

Ironically, you were a healthy couple playing a twisted game, and you’d been in on it all along. 

Steve cleared his throat, loosening a button on his shirt as you span around, your own pelvis holding down Mike’s own. Mike should’ve despised the situation in its entirety, but the way his cock twitched was undeniable. It was as if this fucked up situation were unlocking something within him, and he didn’t know for how much longer he could hold it back.

“…I love the way men like you look at her and want nothing more than to fuck her brains out. Do you know what it feels like to win? To know that she’s yours?” Steve drawled, watching almost in admiration as you pulled off your sweats, sliding your underwear to the side as you lined up Mike’s cock with your entrance. 

“Of course you don’t,” he said condescendingly. “...Your life is about to be hell, Mike. You deserve something good…” The older man hissed, coincidentally aligning with the hiss from Mike’s own mouth who was too much in a state of ecstasy to register the comment. His precum was dribbling on your wet folds, and he longed for a bit of friction. 

You placed a hand on Mike’s chest, smiling down at him with the same expression he’d come to fall for in the first place, paired with your soft, unsuspecting voice. 

“Do you wanna fuck me, Mike? I bet you’d make me feel so good…”

“Y-Yeah..” he whimpered lowly, and he moaned as you sunk yourself onto his bare cock, gripping your body at the tight, wet pressure of your gummy walls. Steve hummed in amusement as he watched you begin to ride him; slowly at first, giving him enough leeway to insert himself into your mouth. 

He’d had you a million times before, but he never grew tired of the sensation. He gripped the back of your head as he moved your face up and down his shaft, groaning as he fucked your mouth in tandem.

“You’ve always been a maneater, haven’t you baby?” Steve cooed. “My little slut,” he spat, and Mike furrowed his brows, feeling his cock twitch in you at the statement. You were clearly just a few rich people with a perverted pastime, and he’d been taken as collateral. He’d probably feel disgusted in the morning, but as of right now he was in heaven.

You steadied yourself on Mike’s cock, pressing down a hand into his pelvis as Steve’s grip tightened on your face, greedy as one hand reached down to grope your breasts.

“Go on, Mike,” he chuckled arrogantly. “Give em a feel,”

You took Mike's hand in your own, throwing your head back at the sensation of being fondled and prodded by two men simultaneously. Steve’s cock was hitting the back of your throat, your nose buried into the fabric of his clothes, stray grey pubic hairs tickling your nose as he did. Mike’s dick was buried in you, and you were 99% sure you’d sheathed himself to the hilt. You hadn’t even needed to move your hips for that long, and Mike had begun to take agency as rock his hips up into your own, the skin-on-skin sounds borderline pornographic.

“Shit,” Mike whispered, feeling his stomach begin to knot up, and you gasped, talking around Steve’s cock that sent vibrations through the spectacled man’s lower half.

“Are you gonna cum, Mikey? You wanna fill this pussy up?” you teased, circling your hips uncontrollably, Mike’s penetrative thrusts becoming shallow but frequent. He groaned in response, and Steve chuckled, one hand your back so he stabilised you, making sure your lush lips were still attached to his shaft. Mike may have been getting the goods, but he owned you, and his pleasure came first. Even in a group of three. 

Feeling closer to your own orgasm, you slammed your hips down onto Mike, holding him in position as he came; desperately clutching the sheets as he spilled into you, mumbling to himself incoherently. Steve was gracious enough to pull himself from your mouth, a bridge of spit connecting you two as he did. Instinctively, you jerked him off, your warm hands sliding up and down effortlessly on his sloppy dick, still grinding your hips on Mike as he was beginning to come down from his high.

Steve came with a grumble, and it wasn’t long until you followed him after, grinning mischievously as fresh white trails of his seed painted your face. Glancing over at Mike - who looked totally spent - you ran your tongue along Steve’s pink shaft to clean him up, writhing as you stimulated Mike’s softening cock, producing a groan from the brunette. 

You were light headed as you fell back onto the sheets, smiling as Steve stroked your semi-nude body adoringly, lulling you off to sleep.

THE MORNING AFTER

Mike was awakened to a banging on the door, swearing under his breath as he contemplated how this looked. Sitting up, he scanned the room for a sign of you, or even Steve, but to no luck. 

He looked out of the window. The snowstorm was over.

Perhaps you’d just gone out for breakfast.

He hurried his clothes on, placing his hands on his hips as he tried to shake the hazy memories of the night before. He was just in time as an officer entered, worried as he saw his colleague enter with guns.

“W-What’s going on?” he asked, squinting. 

“We have a warrant for a visitor's arrest,” he drawled. “A Mr William Afton…?”

Mike frowned. The name wasn’t familiar.

The officer raised a brow, leaving the room once the coast was clear. As he did, Mike caught a glimpse of the poster in his back pocket, the face painfully recognisable. 

WANTED: Child abduction and murder.

[sugar-omi]

Just some brainrot because we love Cove. (Also, your fics are soooo good. Thanks for sharing it with us. I mean omega! and rockstar!cove :o )

So, we have Step 3 Cove in hand some time after Patreon's nsfw moment. MC is obssessed with giving him head, of course. He's so cute when you do...what can I say ? I'm a simple human. So yes they do it often, like casually saying : "Cove, I'm hungry." while you two are casually hanging out. At first he doesn't understand but the look in your eyes convey your message to him.

Most of the time, you'll be totally satisfied with just leaving him all red, dishevelled and flustered. Just having him putty in your hand makes your day. But at some point, when you ask Cove to come to your house (without kinky ideas in mind for once) he asks you if your just horny. While it makes sense, I like imagining that MC decides to not get him off anymore. Obviously until he begs, all red and pent up, for a release.

In the meantime, MC just spent their time teasing him. Light touches, flirty remarks and maybe getting him all worked up while making out only to purposefully stop. The poor guy, will clearly snap if show up at his door, anklet on.

This was a bit long and I'm sorry if there's any mistake as english isn't my first language.

I LOVE YOU ANON IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE ROCKSTAR!COVE TOO HEHE 🙈🙈🙈(omega!cove too, im having sm thoughts abt him lately...) also dw your english is perfect n i feel like you took an exert outta my head LMAO

tags : NSFW, hc's, gn reader, multiple choice dialogue, this just a really big ramble bc i've been a zombie thinking abt this shit n now we're here...., mmm overstim, oral (cove/reader receiving), reader's a TEASE, mind break honestly, ooc but idc 🏌️

he's confused when you first make subtle hints/advances, but i think realization hits him like a truck a millisecond later

for the longest you two wouldn't be able to keep your hands off each other

late at night sneaking into the others room so you can suck cove off, trying to keep all the slurping and gagging noises to a minimum

cove's moans are another struggle, but i say climb on top of him and let him eat you out / suck you off while you suck him off too

ohh his head would SPIN with that

he almost woke up your mom's last week because he moaned a little too loud when he finished

so now you're on top of him, your lovely ass and sex in his face

ahhh he'd be so fucking cute. teary eyed and whining into and drooling all over your cunt / cock, pulling you down onto his face so he can get more of you

also i loveee the thought of sucking him off in his car

realistically, i don't think step 3 cove could even handle the thought, he'd probably faint and hit his head n die LMAO

but arghh it'd be so hot

you went on a nice date, and now you're sitting in the parking lot of a beach far from home late at night, and tonight was so much fun.

shopping, movies, you even got some nice food from a hole in the wall restaurant

and now you're finally alone, no one around to see your boyfriend throw his head back, claw at the steering wheel and moan and babble and try not to thrust up into your mouth because he doesn't wanna hurt you

he's so whiny, and so loud

you've been sneaking around for awhile now, you can't blame him for wanting to be vocal because fuck your hot, wet mouth around his cock is so hot

and definitely doesn't help he's probably overstimulated, his cock so sensitive because you've been touching n sucking him off so much

let alone when he's rubbing one out in the shower before a date/event or in the middle of the night because he had a wet dream about you<333

mmm idk about yall, but i would break him <333

of course he doesn't interpret every touch or invite as sexual, but i also you've ruined him so you can't blame him, its your fault 🤭🤭

so now whenever you rub and squeeze his thigh, or give him a hot kiss, or say something like "cove, i wanna leave now... " or "come over, i miss you <3"

or send him a spicy text, "i had a dirty dream about you, can i come over, please?"

z

also omfg i would be so satisfied with just teasing him too…

i love it so much. it’s the best actually

mm i like having long nails, i’m always thinking about getting a new set/doing your nails all pretty and you’re showing them off to cove then you tell him “i wanna see how they look around your dick”

he’d love that omfg

imagine dragging your nails over his chest, teasing his sensitive nipples before you move down, pulling out his dick and giving languished strokes while you kiss him breathless, only moving onto leaving love bites all over his neck n chest once he’s a drooling, blushing mess <33

i think he’s gotten used to your late night/midday booty calls too

so when you invite him over, he can’t help but anticipate sex

but instead you’ve set up some snacks and a movie you’ve been waiting to come out set up on the TV and now cove looks like a fool with a half hard dick and with how fast he rushed over here

when you ask what’s wrong he’s mumbling, stuttering out how he thought you had ulterior motives for inviting him over…

so now it’s his fault because now he’s set up on your couch with him on your lap, teasing him about how he’s too horny to even imagine his s/o would want a normal date, no ulterior motives whatsoever

how he probably can’t even hold your hand without thinking about how you jerked him off in the bathroom of his workplace

and you’re so fucking right

because some days he can’t even kiss you without remembering his taste on your lips, can’t forget how your legs were trembling on either side of his head and now you’re having lunch with your families

how you’re sharing ice cream and jokes with your friends like you didn’t pull him aside before you left and got him off, begging him to cum, that you need to taste him to get by

omfg i also love the reverse/the consequence of breaking cove this way

because either way, he’s obsessed with you too

needs to taste you, have you… he’s just dying every day to have you under his hands, on his tongue..

and i can’t decide which i love more.. teasing cove bc he needs to have you, or teasing cove bc he gets so wound up from you needing him often

bc both is so delicious, and both of them scratch my brain so much

cove eagerly eating you out / sucking you off at the beach, he can’t even focus on teaching you surfing/surfing with you or building sandcastles, etc. because all he can think about is you n having his mouth on you…

you’ll show him a new outfit or sit in his lap or cuddle up next to him, etc. and now he’s thinking about ruining you in those clothes or sinking onto his knees giving you head while you lay back on the couch, still focused on your show

i love how in the ORCA dinner moment cove gets tense when you touch his thigh

i think he’d definitely be obsessed with you teasing him, working him up, dirty talking him especially

oh fuck i almost forgot. in the first patreon nsfw moment, he loves when you pull away before he finishes and you “don’t want it to end”

so technically this is canon <3333

so he’d definitely love is you pulled up to your date one day, anklet on and looking so lovely

n you’re touching his thigh, telling him how good he looks, kissing him suddenly and then pulling him into a deeper kiss when he gets it together

at some point you end up in his car, too busy swapping spit and slipping your hands where you can to get a feel of each other under those clothes, to even make it home

of course eventually you do, but even then your teasing doesn’t stop

ohhh sitting in his lap, rolling your hips into his, kissing him breathless until he’s babbling

you try to pull away, partially to tease cove but also because its late and his dad will be back any time now

but he convinces you to just get each other off, that you’ll have enough time so please?

and while you’re jerking cove off, you hear cliff’s car pull up and cove has not been quiet whatsoever, you couldn’t possibly risk it

but he’s so desperate, he’s so close to finishing, you can’t stop now!!

on the verge of tears prbly, all blushy and hot and a total mess

babbling about how he’ll be quiet so please make him cum, he’ll be good so please.

he’s such a doll, and he does keep his promise, even if it means shoving your undies in his mouth or muffling him some other way, like with your hands, lips, or sex

or you can let him bite/hide his face in the pillow, messing up his bed from all his squirming…

fuck this turned into such a big ramble tysm for sending this, im sorry i used this as a chance to unleash my apocalypse of horny brainworms LOL

[glystenangel]

how the jjk men answer “why do you love me?”

nanami kento, toji fushiguro, satoru gojo, geto suguru, ryomen sukuna x gn!reader

tags/warnings: fluff, kinda domestic vibes, kinda canon kinda not lol, everyone's softish

thanks for reading and enjoy<3

Nanami---------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Nanami?” You stare up at him as he reads, his lap cradling your head.

One of his hands is absentmindedly combing through your hair and you can see his eyes shifting over the pages, “Yes?”

“Why do you love me?”

He doesn’t even look up from reading, but his voice softens at the question, “My soul feels at home with you.”

When you’re rendered into silence by the sentiment, he finally looks at your touched expression and sends you a small smile before crouching down to kiss your forehead.

Toji------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, wearing Toji’s t-shirt and steadily watching him as he pours you a cup of water.

“Why do you love me?” 

He sets the cup down at your side, caging you between his arms with a smug look, “I mean, just look at you.”

“Forget it.” You roll your eyes and push his chest to move past him.

You don’t make it very far, as he easily pulls you into a hug from behind and sighs into your ear.

“Don’t be stupid. I love you because after we met I knew I had to. It’d fucking kill me if some other bastard got to you first.”

Gojo ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gojo laughs at your ask as he settles into bed next to you, “Why do I love you? That’s a silly question.”

“Just answer, I’m curious.” You insist, scooting closer to his face and smiling when his hand finds yours underneath the blankets.

He doesn’t meet your eyes for a moment, and then he gives you a look so vulnerable you’re momentarily afraid that you’ve said something wrong until he speaks.

“You make me feel weak, and I don’t feel bad about it.”

Geto------------------------------------------------------------------------

He lets out a contemplative noise as you continue helping him tie up his long, black tresses.

“Why do I love you?”

“Mhmm.” You hum back in response, pulling his silky hair through the elastic and smoothing down any stray hairs.

He catches your hand in his, and you look up to meet his gaze in the mirror as he gives the back of your hand a kiss.

“You are impossible to hate. Loving you was the only other choice, and the best decision I ever made.” 

Sukuna---------------------------------------------------------------------

When you ask Sukuna why he loves you, he lets out a disbelieving scoff from where he’s lounging on the couch.

“Shut up.”

“It was just a question.” You cross your arms, a scowl forming across your features.

“Come here.” 

You look away from him, and he comes over to where you’re sitting and pulls the bottom of your chair until you’re facing him.

“You really want to know?”

“Yes.” You stare up at him, still nursing slight hurt in your eyes as he returns your gaze.

He strokes your cheek and gives you a soft peck on the lips before jabbing an annoyed finger into your forehead.

“What isn’t there to love? Idiot.”

________________

End Notes:

bonus post bc i couldn't resist! u can tell soft sukuna's my fave bc his is the longest lmao

fluff forever<3 thanks for reading!

[rallamajoop]

On Mia Winters, misogyny, and abuse

As should be pretty obvious by now, I love Mia Winters. I honestly think she’s one of the most compelling characters in this whole damn franchise.

But let me make clear: you don’t have to love her. Mia’s canonically done a lot of shady shit in her time, and her relationship with Ethan has real problems. There are perfectly viable interpretations where the only thing really holding it together is his own denial. Only I never seem to get to read any of those takes, because the most common characterisations Mia gets in fic are an irredeemable monster, or a cardboard cutout who exists only to be written out as quickly as possible. And to write Mia out to that degree doesn’t just do her character a disservice, it does Ethan a disservice, and a big one.

The amount of Mia-bashing I see out there in this fandom turns my stomach. It’s not just the slash fans who’d rather ship Ethan with another dude. I have seen Mia loudly bashed in tags on het or gen fic in which she does not even appear. I have seen male fans reviewing these games on youtube who treat her the exact same way. But it’s never more frustrating than when that hate comes from the same fans who’ll turn around and talk about characters like Chris or even Lady Dimitrescu (she who canonically abuses her and murders her servants, and, y’know, eats people without a shred of remorse) like they’re perfectly forgivable and have done no real wrong. And don’t get me wrong: I love Lady D, but I love her because she’s magnificently evil. Mia? Mia’s a whole lot more complicated.

But to really explain why this hate makes me so uncomfortable, I’m going to have to start with the start of Resident Evil 7, and Mia’s very first scenes in this whole franchise.

Let me quickly summarise the opening of that game. A man whose wife disappeared without explanation suddenly gets a message about her whereabouts. He travels to an isolated location, breaks in, and finds her. She denies ever sending him that message, and seems incredibly distressed that he’s there at all. They fight. It ends with him sinking an axe into her neck and shooting her several times with a handgun. But see, he didn’t do anything wrong! It was all self-defence! She started it! She was acting crazy!

If you didn’t spot it, the whole opening of RE7 reads uncomfortably like a story about a woman escaping an abusive relationship, then being tracked down and murdered by her ex.

Obviously, I am not here to tell you Ethan’s abusive. He’s not, we’ve got no reason to imagine he is. He was legitimately acting in self-defence.

But the fact the first thing Ethan has to do in this game is find the balls to kill his own wife ‒ that a whole new era of Resi games has opened with a sequence so easily read as a sympathetic justification for how a man might perfectly innocently track down his missing spouse and "have" to kill her – that made those opening minutes into by far the most uncomfortable part of this whole franchise for me. Shit like this really happens. I mean it, I will track down the fucking statistics on women who are murdered after trying to leave an abusive partner if I have to.

What happens to ‘Mia’ in the opening to RE8 isn’t much better: it's as textbook a fridging as any I’ve ever seen. Yes, it’s a fridging that gets retconned away later when she turns up alive, but the fact that’s even possible speaks to just how awful and confusing her death is. The game opens with Mia’s violent murder at the hands of this series’ longest running ‘hero’, and the event is framed entirely in terms of how awful it is for her husband. That's as frigid as a fridging gets.

The eventual reveal that the real Mia was just trapped alone in a cell being experimented on by a madwoman for god knows how long doesn’t actually make it better. The horror Mia goes through in both these games is a footnote, barely explored.

I bring these events up not to condemn the RE franchise, not to say that including these sequences was unconscionable, or that violence against women can never be shown in a horror title. A quick glance at my tumblr should demonstrate how much I adore these games. Tropes like fridging become problems only because they’re so ubiquitous they can come to define almost the only roles women get to play, not because any individual example is necessarily grounds for outrage. If anything, there’s just as much to analyse in all the hate thrown at characters like Ethan Winters (or his predecessor, Jonathan Harker) as a archtypical examples of sexism against men – backlash against the very idea of a male character in the disempowered role of horror victim, usually reserved for women.

But with this context in mind, my god is it uncomfortable to see people talk about Mia as irredeemable monster who deserves to suffer more. People who will valorise the likes of Chris Redfield, who didn’t even bother to stop to tell Ethan that’s not Mia, yet talk about Mia like being shot to death in her own living room was only what she deserved. That is just a whole load of yikes.

And given that both games open with Mia being violently killed by a male protagonist (twice in RE7, with the player in control), it sure is convenient how so many people have managed to ‘find’ the evidence that proves she’s the real villain. You don’t have to think too hard about Chris Redfield as a violent maniac or Ethan Winters being forced to kill his own wife if it’s okay to inflict violence on this woman. “Yes, but she shouldn’t have done [X]…” or even “But what if she’s the real abuser” is a narrative that gets thrown at real women in abusive relationships all the time – especially when the man is a friend of whoever’s casting judgement, or even a celebrity. Real world examples of this shit in the wild run the gamut from wild fan-takes on The Shining ‘proving’ that actually the abused wife was the ‘real’ abuser all along, right up to the ongoing hate campaign against Amber Heard. People don’t want to have to think badly of someone they admire, and will take any excuse to shift the blame. The stakes are infinitely lower when we’re talking about fictional characters, but the same pattern plays out.

And look, I do get it. It’s easy to go into these games and come out with a negative opinion of Mia. She’s the one who lures you into danger in RE7, acts all innocent, and then comes at Ethan with a chainsaw – and when you finally find out her big secret at the end, it turns out she was working for the people who created Eveline from the start! You’re really not given a lot of reasons to invest in Ethan and Mia’s relationship before she’s suddenly coming at him with a knife, and the fact she never does get to come clean to him in canon leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

It’s really easy to go into RE8, note all the glaring signs that Ethan’s relationship with Mia isn’t healthy, and draw your own conclusions about a woman we don’t hardly even see again for most of the runtime of the game. Half this goddamn fandom still seems to think Heisenberg is actually a lycan, ffs – most of what people think they know about Mia is more meme than fact, and the rest is pretty surface level. Basic media literacy is not exactly high out there in the tumblrweeds (let alone the rest of the internet).

But as for the idea that Mia’s responsible for all the horrors Ethan went through, people seem to forget that Mia herself went through so much worse. Ethan spent a day in the Bakers’ property, and a day in the village. Mia spent years trapped in the Bakers’ property, and days at least imprisoned in Miranda’s lab, knowing exactly how much danger her family were in, helpless to save them. She’s no innocent herself, but ye gods has she already suffered for her crimes.

So with all that out of the way, well, what’s the actual ‘evidence’ that Mia herself was abusive? No-one's coming into this one without some bias, but let’s at least give it a fair shake.

Right upfront, I want to recognise that in both fiction and reality, women can be abusers, and men can be victims. Abuse in heterosexual relationships is far more likely to occur with the man as the abuser, but the reverse does happen, and the fact culture at large can be so eager to cast the woman as the villain doesn’t make it any easier for the real male victims of abuse to get recognition and help. Society as a whole is still just really shitty about enabling or excusing real abuse.

But the idea that Mia was abusive has very little to back it up. Whatever you make of “her” interactions with Ethan at the start of the game, the fact remains: that’s not Mia, and the fact she’s acting so strangely is meant to be our clue that something much bigger than a little marital strife is going on here. Knowing all this doesn’t really make the scene where she’s violently executed less disturbing, but you can’t miss the hints we don’t yet know the full story.

So the question becomes, is there any evidence that the real Mia was abusive? I’ve dug into this one a bit before in my post about trying to figure out the timeline of exactly when Mia was replaced, but there are no definitive answers as to how long Miranda's been living in their house. To summarise a long post (and a surprisingly lively timeline of events from the days before the game begins): the most likely intent seems to be that Miranda’s been posing as Mia for less than a week, though a lot of the vibes of the scene give me the impression it’s been several weeks at least. Ultimately, that’s going to come down to your own interpretation.

The Mia mentioned in Ethan’s diary who blew up at him at the hospital could be the real Mia, but more likely isn’t: you can’t really use her to argue anything definitive, one way or another. The Mia from the flashback where Ethan gets the call from Rose’s doctor is the real Mia, but if you think getting upset when your husband brushes off your obvious distress over your daughter’s health makes you abusive, then nothing I say here is going to convince you otherwise.

The only ‘real’ evidence that Mia might be a problem is one line you might hear from Ethan while taking Rose to bed, and it is admittedly a red flag: your mother’s scary when she’s angry.

And to anyone whose whole hatred of Mia has been built backwards from this one line – especially anyone who’s grown up in a dysfunctional household themselves – hell, I get it. It is one really yikes thing for Ethan to say about his wife.

But in Mia’s defence, I can only point out that, well, yes, canonically, she is scary when she’s angry.

Oh, did I say angry? I meant fucking possessed.

And if Ethan’s bringing up the spectre of that time, even subconsciously, maybe that should be an even bigger clue that the Mia in this house right now isn’t Mia.

But what really shows this line for what it is is that we’ve seen the real Mia angry. We’ve seen her cold fury at Eveline, daring to go right back to asking ‘can we be a family now?’ within hours forcing Mia to assault her own husband with a chainsaw. We’ve seen her frustration at Ethan’s own denial, and we’ve seen her stalk out of the room when he blows off an important conversation for a call from work. We’ve seen her advance on Chris after he shut her down, demanding, Where is my husband? Where is my daughter?!

We have never seen her angry without real justification. Her anger is neither violent nor disproportionate. It’s consistently purposeful, focused, and contained. There is nothing scary about the real Mia’s anger, unless you’re threatened by the very idea she might have something valid to be angry about.

There is evidence of tension in the Winters’ marriage from before Miranda’s arrival, but it takes a very different form – most evident in the flashback scene where Ethan receives the call from Rose’s doctor. Far from Miranda’s brusque, dismissive copy of her, the real Mia is anxious and depressed, scared of what Rose’s results might reveal. Here, Ethan’s the one brushing her concerns aside (“We talked about this […] Rose is fine!”) He recognises there seems to be something Mia’s not telling him, says they should talk about it, but then immediately brushes the conversation off when he gets a call from work, while Mia storms out of the room.

You can certainly read Mia as a hypocrite here, getting angry at Ethan for not knowing things she’s deliberately kept from him. But it’s Ethan who decides a call from work is more important than a conversation with his wife – someone who is obviously distressed, canonically still on a regime of drugs after the traumatic events of RE7, very likely suffering PTSD along with Ethan, and maybe even some form of postpartum depression. We don’t know anything about Ethan’s work, so there’s no point in speculating about how much he ‘needs’ to take that call. Mia’s no clear villain here – quite the opposite.

Personally, I tend towards taking this scene as evidence that Mia has tried to talk to Ethan about what really happened to him, but hasn’t managed to get him to face the truth. For all that Ethan supposedly wants to talk about the past, it’s a defining plot point that he’s badly in denial himself.

Or they could both be at some fault here: Ethan unwilling to face the truth, while Mia is reluctant to force him to face something she knows will hurt him and bring him distress. Even when Mia says outright that she ‘tried to keep this a secret, but…’ to Chris at the end of the game, the implication is as much that she’s tried to keep it a secret from people like Chris, who might decide Ethan is dangerous. She’s lied to protect him before, and if she’s still lying to him about her past with the Connections, then the fact that knowing the truth will hurt Ethan is obviously among her reasons. Protecting Ethan has always been among Mia’s top priorities ‒ even at her own expense.

The only other real hints we get about Mia’s inner life come from the glimpses of her we get in Donna’s domain. But I’m hesitant to read too much into these, given how unclear it is how much is just a manifestation of Ethan’s own anxieties. If anything, the ‘Mia’ in these scenes almost seems to have some far worse secret than simply having not told Ethan something he really ought to have put together on his own, and I’d kind of love to see that explored too – at least as long as that goes somewhere more interesting than round umpteen of ‘and that’s why Mia sucks’.

But my point here isn’t that you have to read any of these scenes the same way I do. I do think it’s important to recognise that nothing written for a game like RE is truly character-driven; scenes exist to serve the plot far more than to reflect consistent character motivations or hold up to fridge logic (which, let’s face it, is the real reason for most of Chris’ horrific behaviour in this game, let alone anyone else’s). The result is rarely super consistent, and leaves ample space for multiple interpretations of anyone’s motivations. Regardless, the idea there’s any hard evidence that Ethan and Mia’s relationship is dysfunctional, or that whatever’s wrong is Mia’s fault alone, is going to be incredibly hard to justify.

Any assertion that Ethan and Mia are somehow on the verge of divorce also needs to be weighed against the masses of evidence of how much they love each other – the number of times Mia has said she loves Ethan, up to and including (yes, I’m bringing this up again) how ready she is to die for him in RE7. Her speech to Chris at the end of RE8 states explicitly that being together with Ethan and Rose is the only thing that matters to her. “Mia, I’m sorry, I love you,” are some of the last words Ethan ever speaks – and I can’t help but read into how the moment he finally pushes Rose into Chris’ arms so they can get away with him weighing them down is right after he learns that Mia is alive, and thus implicitly that Rose won’t be alone if Ethan doesn’t make it. And good god does that scene break my heart every time.

It’s worth recognising that the fact Ethan and Mia love each other doesn’t inherently mean their relationship is healthy, or that you have to love them together as much as I do. Like I said up top, you don’t have to like Mia, and you don’t have to justify not liking her if you don’t. I would genuinely like to see fics where Mia and Ethan’s supposedly-necessary break up feels in character. Where Ethan loves her but just can’t deal with the resentment and the fallout over all the lies she told him, where he's been clinging to his 'happy ending' with Mia after surviving the Bakers so hard he can't face the fact things just aren't working, or where he’s having to face that their relationship only ever really worked because she was away so much. It will break my heart, but fiction is allowed to do that.

But god, it would be nice if people could just take the bashing below an eleven around this place. The number of times I’ve had to sigh and back-button out of reading something, because yet another author has decided to project their own hatred for Mia onto the husband who’s still reeling from watching her being violently murdered in front of him… it gets fucking old, y’know?

I would really like to think that in the year of our lord 2024, fandom would be a bit past this thing where they bash the canonical female love interest in the name of shipping the hero with another dude. People will bend over backwards to try and cast Heisenberg and Chris as guys who really care about consent and worry about Ethan getting hurt, because heaven forbid anyone be caught shipping something slightly problematic. And yet misogyny still somehow gets a pass.

You do not have to love Mia. You don’t even have to like her. But ye gods, the hate she gets is baseless and absurd.

Hasn't this poor woman suffered enough?

(And on that note, I promise I am finally done soapboxing in defence of Mia Winters, thank you for bearing with me for this long.)

[loomisadvocate]

the inevitable 𖤐 part five

woodsboro would soon be a distant memory - but some things would make it hard to forget.  

pairing: billy loomis x fem!reader

word count: 7.4k (holy shit i am so sorry)

tags/warnings: strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers, smut (eventually), angst, slow burn (heavy on this), cursing, alcohol and marijuana, make out scene who cheered!, probably others i'm forgetting.

a/n: clearly i got a little carried away with this part... it's the longest one to date. i hope that's not a bad thing. not 100% edited bc i promised i would post today. enjoy!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

masterlist

“I’m sorry, he actually said enchanting?”

Tatum stifles her laughter to avoid any of her soda passing through her nose. That, and to avoid any more stares from the old woman who’d been glaring at Tatum over her less-than-modest plaid skirt. You nod, scrunching your nose up at the memory.

Your outing with Tatum has, so far, been spent filling her in on your entire Billy situation. It was prompted by her asking why, and you quote, “rat-boy,” was so hellbent on the group knowing in the first place, seeing as you’d only formally known each other for a few weeks. In the spirit of having no more secrets, you gladly answered her question.

You started from the very beginning: how a seemingly innocent conversation about red wine versus white turned into a quick trip to the garage that ended in telling him your plans to move. If Tatum thought the garage incident was hilarious, she was sure to piss herself when you told her about him coming to your window.

“Wait for it; it gets much worse.” You laugh along with her and take another bite of the pretzel you were sharing, wiping cinnamon sugar dust off on a useless paper napkin. “So then a week later, I’m writing my paper and hear something outside. I’m thinking it’s a small animal or something, but no. Guess what?” You pause for dramatic effect, Tatum raising an eyebrow and waiting expectantly. A few seconds go by before her hand smacks on the table and she gasps.

“Shut up!” The old woman next to you grunts and picks up her belongings, clearly fed up with your friend’s dramatic reactions. Tatum doesn’t care, and neither do you. If people looked at you and saw two high school seniors behaving like they were spilling middle school gossip, you couldn’t care less. You’d been waiting for more moments like these with her, and you’d be damned if you let a stranger spoil it with just a dirty look.

Tatum lowers her voice and leans in closer to you. “Shut up. He came to your house. Through your window?”She confirms with you, and you nod with your nose scrunched up.

“And I actually let him in, which is the even crazier part. But I talked to him—like, actually talked to him, Tatum. And he wasn’t that unbearable. Then, for whatever reason, he just flipped a switch.” You run a hand through your hair and push the pretzel towards her. Thinking about it all was taking away your sweet tooth. 

What confused you the most about Billy Loomis is why, all of a sudden, he made fucking with your circle a personal mission. You racked your brain, thinking perhaps you had offended him by accident and didn’t realize it. You’d been doing that over and over again, coming up empty each time. Tatum knew him much better than you did and had a different angle, seeing as her boyfriend was the boy’s best friend.

“I think Billy is just a shithead and likes to get under people’s skin. He’s really good at it,” she offers. You already had the opportunity to learn that the hard way. “So what happened after you guys talked? Did you throw him out on his ass?” She asks with a giggle, getting a kick out of the mental image of you grabbing him by his hair and tossing him out of the window. A bit morbid, but a girl could dream.

You hesitate to answer. It’s not that you wanted to lie again; god no, that was the last thing you wanted to do. But something about telling another soul about the tension and the bubbling desire you’d been feeling in your gut since meeting him? It felt eerily similar to the reason you took so long to tell Tatum about leaving; it would make it real. You were perfectly content living in denial for as long as it took, even if that was up until the moment the moving van drove away.

You don’t answer, and Tatum kicks your leg lightly under the table. “Hello?’ She draws it out, waving her hand in the air. “What, did you guys make out or something?”

“No!” You shout immediately—defensively and hopefully convincingly. A few more people turn to look due to your quick outburst. “He got all... angry? Called me ungrateful and said I needed to wrap up my pity party. So I called him an asshole, and then..." You trail off at the memory. He taunts you, his lips now ghosting over your temple and his slim fingers resting on your hip. Through the thin, unreliable material of your t-shirt, you could feel him tracing circles. 

“And then what?! You’re killing me here.” Tatum is growing more impatient by the second, like she’s heard the juiciest rumor about her favorite celebrity on TV, and suddenly the signal goes out. You look at her with uncertainty. Truthfully, you weren’t even entirely sure what had happened yourself. “I swear to god if you don’t spill.”

“And then it got weird,” you continue. Tatum doesn’t speak for you to know she’s asking how it got weird. “He got really close to me, like he was going to kiss me. And then he just didn’t? He said I should finish my paper and said my secret wouldn’t last much longer. Then the party happened, and he tried to give me a ride to school this morning. Well, I accepted the ride only ‘cause I would’ve been late and—“

“Whoa, we aren’t going to just skip that part. You guys almost kissed?!” Your best friend was crazed by all of this. Finding out you were moving, that Billy had it out for you, and that he had made a half-move on you all in one day was a bit much, even for her. She had absolutely zero interest in your ride to school this morning. Besides, she would be reinstating herself as your chaffeur starting tomorrow anyway. 

"It was just weird and tense; nothing crazy happened. But it was definitely something. I just don’t know what his angle is.” You shrugged the entire thought away, entertaining it felt distasteful.

Admittedly, you hadn’t reached the point of being repulsed by him. The Billy you’d met a month ago was lingering in every crevice of your brain. Even the Billy that appeared in your bedroom seemed more kind, more palatable in some sense. Billy had proven thus far to be, if nothing else, a complete wildcard. You weren’t sure which Billy you would get on any given day. One day he is mocking you in your bedroom; the next he’s embarrassing you; and after that, he’s offering to bring you to school.

It was all too confusing, and your mind being seemingly detached from your body was not helping. The manner in which he could keep you frozen in place with a single look, your eyes the only part of your body able to move. Tracing over his stature, his lips, and his hands. It was positively disturbing. Now it had happened not once but twice, and everyone knows what they say about the third time.

"It sounds like he wants to see if he can get the library girl to open up more than her books." Tatum giggles and finishes off the sugary snack, crumpling up the paper to toss into the trash later. You don't respond; you're still fantasizing about the night in your room. Even when he wasn't in proximity he was able to throw your focus. What you fail to notice is Tatum's dawn of realization—the revelation that occurs while you're daydreaming. 

"Oh my fucking god, you want to screw him!" She says it accusingly, pointing a finger at you. This is definitely enough to catch your attention. Your mouth is agape, but nothing comes out in your defense. After stuttering a few times, you manage to say something; however, it doesn't remedy much. 

"Tatum, I don't want to screw him! He's horrible. Abhorrent, even." You throw in a big word in an attempt to throw her off your scent. Tatum knows you. She's known every guy you've thought to be remotely cute based on how you look at them. You never made a move on anyone the entire time you'd been in town. Partly because you preferred to avoid any serious attachments and strife when you eventually moved, but also because boys just weren't something you prioritized. 

"You're basically drooling just thinking about it. God, no wonder there's so much tension." Tatum is enjoying every second of this. Maybe a small part of her is doing it on purpose, just as a little payback for what happened. Your willingness to talk to her about it, despite how humiliating it was for you, didn't go unnoticed. What killed you was how on the nose she was. It felt good to have your best friend in the loop on what would likely be your first and last real boy problem until the end of the school year. 

"Ugh, you're right." You confess, unable to even laugh. Instead, you grab the hair at the top of your head and rest your face on your palms.  "What do I do, Tatum?" You ask for guidance; your voice muffled. First you hear the slurping of the rest of her soda; she'd run through hers in record time.

"Just mess around; you're leaving soon anyway. He’s clearly into you, in his own bizarre, freakish way. What's the worst that could happen?" Tatum answers nonchalantly, and it earns an incredulous look from you. Tatum had personally ensured Billy was nowhere within five feet of you up until last month, and now she was encouraging you to sleep with the enemy? 

"You're insane. I'm not going to mess around with him. He's an asshole; he has no respect, and he's made it clear he likes seeing me miserable.” You shake your head and lean back in your chair; one of the legs must be shorter than the rest because it's been rickety since you sat in it. 

“True, but maybe he could like you? The only person who knows what Billy is thinking is Billy. Stu probably doesn't even know what happens in his bird brain." She offers an explanation, and you can't exactly disagree. You never knew what his motive was, and clearly, he kept his cards close to his chest. 

"I know he's a dick; trust me," she continues. "And I'm definitely not a fan of him after what he pulled. But it's almost summer, and you've never even gone on a date with someone. Obviously, it's not a necessity, but you could probably benefit from a little something to take the edge off. You are a little bit uptight." Tatum's hands are clasped on the table as she tries to reason with you. Not only are you still in shock that she's suggesting this, but now you're surprised to find yourself agreeing.

Even so, there was still the matter of addressing his little stunt. Now that you and Tatum were fine, the next two things to take care of were, first, Randy, and secondly, the fucker that caused all of this in the first place. 

"I can't believe you're telling me to screw around with Billy Loomis." You state, frankly, with a twinge of amusement donning your features. 

"I can't believe you were already thinking about screwing around with Billy Loomis. You wear your thoughts on your face, by the way." Tatum smiles at you patronizingly, but you know it's with a light heart. You definitely had a lot to think about, but most of it needed to wait until after you tracked down Randy. 

The squirrely one of the group was hardly ever taken seriously, but you knew that in this situation he needed to feel heard. He truly did see you as a sister. Whenever Stu would shoot down his ideas, you were always one step behind him, coming to his defense. You always said yes when he asked to hang out after school, mainly because he would go into a dramatic monologue about how much you hated him if you said otherwise.

Even though Tatum was your best friend, it was an unspoken feeling among all of you that Randy had somehow gotten the shittiest end of the stick. Randy was chaotic and, at times, unpredictable, but in a lot of ways, he was the one who bridged everyone together. You were positive that if Randy wasn't part of the group and hadn't pulled you from the library so many times, you wouldn't have gotten as close to Tatum. In the same beat, Randy was a simply guy. You knew an apology and a promise of grabbing food (on you, of course) would likely be enough. You still wanted to make it up to him.

With a clap, you stand up, ready to get out of the food court that was quickly starting to fill up with more people. The mall on a Monday afternoon was, believe it or not, one of the more entertaining places to go around town.

"No more Billy-talk; let's go. I need to find Randy." Tatum agrees quickly, standing up and tossing all of your trash in the bin before looking around in her bag for her car keys. Tatum agreed to stop by the video store on the way back and wait for you to talk to Randy. She assured you that he wasn’t angry, and noted that it wasn’t really in his nature to get angry anyways. That brought you much more comfort. 

"For the record, fooling around when you're mad at someone is so much more fun. Why do you think I start fights with Stu so often?" Tatum twirls her car keys around her pointer finger and catches them in her palm. "Let's roll, Arizona," she says in a deep voice, earning a light smack on the arm from you. 

You push Billy to the back of your mind for now, where he sits at any given moment lately. Perhaps Tatum was right, but if you were going to fool around with Billy Loomis, you were going to need to get your nerves in check. 

Your talk with Randy was equal parts amusing and proactive. As Tatum informed you, Randy was nowhere near angry. Hurt, yes. Shocked, absolutely. But Randy, like your best friend, also knew that you couldn’t be an awful person if you tried. All of your self-hatred over the situation now felt slightly hilarious. You’d caught Randy at the beginning of his shift, luckily for you. That meant he wasn’t annoyed by people making, in his opinion, subpar movie choices just yet.

You’d given him a very similar spiel to the one you gave Tatum, filled with an obscene amount of “I’m sorry’s” and a very long hug. You had to remind him you weren’t leaving that night to get him to pull away. Nonetheless, it appeared that a lot of your worst fears were no cause for concern. Nobody (that you knew) hated you or would be cursing your name for the foreseeable future. 

Randy did make it a point to really hammer that Windsor College was still taking applications despite the priority period ending already. He and Tatum had applied as soon as they opened, wishing to get as far away from Woodsboro as possible. Why it ended up being Ohio of all places you had no idea. Still, you rattled the idea around in your head. You figured it couldn’t hurt, but that was something you had to speak to your parents about.

The last you’d heard, your father was planning on taking a book deal that required him to live in New York in order to be close to the publishing company. Out-of-state tuition was likely going to be way too expensive, even with grants and scholarships. If you were able to convince him to agree on Ohio, you wouldn’t have to completely start over in the friend department.

Tuesday morning arrives, and for the first time since last Friday, you wake up without a weight on your chest. Your usual morning routine ensues, and it’s music to your ears when you hear the familiar horn of Tatum’s car outside your window. The ride to school felt even better today; after all, you didn’t have an impudent troll following you until you got into the car. Stu is taking up his usual spot in the passenger seat, his seatbelt evidently not on. Midway to school, he turns around, practically on his knees in the seat, which earns a reprimand from Tatum.

“So how are things with you and Randy? All better now?” He asks enthusiastically, a twinkle in his eye telling you he was probably asking because he wanted some juicy drama to laugh at.

“Yep, we’re all good. All is right in the world again, or whatever.” You nod once and keep your answer brief, refusing to give in to his wish. Your relationship with Stu was interesting, to say the least. You didn’t quite know him well, but his personality made it easy for you to take his banter in stride instead of taking it offensively.

“And what about things with Billy?” He asked immediately after, and Tatum slapped his shoulder quite harshly. You can see in the rear view that she is glaring at him. You scoff and direct your attention to her.

“You told him? Him of all people?! Tatum!” You lean forward and push Stu away by putting your hand over his face, staring at your best friend with a look of betrayal.

“He was gonna hear about it eventually; besides, he technically brought it up first!” She defends herself, pointing the finger at her boyfriend. You look between the two of them beyond confusion; what reason could Stu possibly have to bring up you and Billy? You raise both of your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to speak.

“You guys were like, eye-fucking each other on Friday. I didn’t know if I should feel awkward or kind of turned on,” he starts cackling as you start hitting him repeatedly.

“Don’t. Even. Go there!” You pause between each word, giving him a final slap on the top of his head. Stu was probably the least observant of everyone. If he and Billy were Dumb and Dumber, he was definitely the latter (which wasn’t saying much, really).

"Hey, fucking chill! I'm all for you getting some. A little weird it's from him, but maybe it'll fix that uptight attitude you've got going on," his words echo the ones his girlfriend had uttered to you less than twenty-four hours prior. 

"Why do you guys think I'm uptight?!" You immediately shift into an even stronger defense mode, pleading frantically to the couple in the front seat for some kind of answer. You were no idiot; you had enough self-awareness to know that perhaps you could take your unyielding need for structure and order down a couple of notches.

Stu catches that you don't comment on 'getting some' from his best friend, and sticks his tongue out at you. "Arizona's fucking Billy!" He yells it as Tatum parks in her usual space, loud enough that if the windows were down people would have definitely heard it.

"Leave her alone! They haven't screwed yet." Tatum speaks up finally; although not to as much of your benefit as you would've appreciated. She puts the car in park and you jump at the opportunity to get out before you strangle Stu for his teasing. You scowl at the 6'4 child next to you and he, as usual, ignores your silent protest. 

"Don't worry, Stu has to be on your side because I'm on your side. That means no Billy tomorrow night, right babe?" She looks up at him to confirm, but you can tell she's shooting daggers at him; compelling him to provide the answer she was looking at again. 

"What's going on tomorrow night?" You ask. Hopefully it was nothing involving as much alcohol as the last time you spent time with them. 

"Movie night, Randy insists there's a movie we need to watch that can't wait until the weekend. Billy will not be there." Tatum's chin turns up and she smacks Stu's chest. He feigns discomfort but she quickly provides him with a swift kiss.

"No Billy," you repeat. Relief washes over you. The unavoidable confrontation with him that had been plaguing you could be put off for one more day. The three of you split up to go to your respective classes, and you can only hope that Stu makes good on his word and keeps Billy as far away from you as possible.

——— 

Stu, surprisingly, keeps his promise. In fact, Billy was nowhere to be seen all day at school yesterday. Today he'd passed by you in the hallway, but he was too invested in whatever conversation he was having to notice you, or he chose to ignore you. Either way, you were content. Stu welcomes you inside, clearly prepared to drink the night away in his signature red 'party robe.' You didn't plan on drinking copiously; after all, it was still a weekday. However, the memories of the last time you were in Stu's living room began creeping up on you as soon as you walked inside.

Nobody brought up last Friday, which you were grateful for. But if you were going to relax enough to enjoy your night, at least one drink was necessary. To avoid falling into the cycle of running through beers all night, you instead asked Stu for a shot of tequila from his parents' liquor cabinet. It was hot and stung your throat as you forced it down, but the warmth that filled your chest afterwards was well worth it. That, and the soda you'd downed immediately after, helped with the foul taste. Everyone else indulged in a shot of well, most of them chasing it with their first beer of the night.

You were comfortable in the same place you were the first time you'd come to Stu's house. It seemed like so long ago. The season had already changed to summer since you'd made small talk about wine with the boy, who would soon become something close to your only adversary. Tatum and Stu were already settled in their places while Randy fiddled with the VHS player, a sight you'd become used to.

The tape's sleeve tossed haphazardly on the small table read Hellraiser IV: Bloodline, and you kept your complaints to yourself. You didn't plan on spoiling Randy's enthusiasm for the remainder of your time in town. You just really did not like horror movies, good or bad. Randy performs his regular pre-movie sermon, this time complete with a full run-down of how the original director had bowed out due to "artistic differences" and that a lot of the characters' fates had been rewritten. You couldn't help but inaudibly laugh at the irony. Oh, how you wish for your fate to be rewritten. 

You actually try to focus on the movie, despite the faint buzz you can feel between your ears from the tequila. A group of guards are attempting to break down the door in order to take Dr. Paul Merchant when loud knocks at the front door scare all of you. 

"Jesus, fuck!" Stu yells and groans loudly, hopping up over the back of the couch. Your attention briefly wanders to the entrance, but the front door is out of sight from where you're sitting. You don't hear much and assume Stu is coming back any second. 

A few minutes go by without Stu's return, but Randy and Tatum are too captivated by the movie to notice. You get up quietly to avoid any other unexpected scares, going through the open archway until you can see the front door. Stu's towering height is hiding whatever he was looking at. 

"You can't be serious, Stu," you hear a voice whisper. Whoever he was looking at. Stu senses you behind him and quickly turns to look over his shoulder, revealing none other than Billy fucking Loomis. Of course, he would be here right now. 

Upon seeing you, Billy attempts to step inside through the small gap. "Just - there you are. Arizona, can I please talk to you?" 

Stu puts his leg out to block his path, his hands clasped together, while his eyes flash between the two of you. It would be a lie to say Stu wasn't finding this a thousand times more entertaining than the movie. 

"What could you possibly have to say to me that I would care about?" You respond boldly, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him, like you were suggesting a challenge. You should drink tequila more often. Billy's lips stay pressed together, and you can tell by the slight twitch of the corner that your reply was both unexpected and unappreciated.

Stu knows his friend far too well and quickly interjects. "How about you guys go talk in my room?" He suggests it, more-so an attempt to beg Billy not to make a scene. Stu is smiling, but it’s strained. Billy was not used to hearing any form of 'no,' and the last thing Stu needed was Tatum yelling at him for Billy showing up unannounced. You glance over at the living room, both of them completely unaware of what was happening in the foyer. 

“I’d rather rot than listen to anything that comes out of your mouth.”

With that, you turn on your heels and walk straight back to the kitchen. Luckily, your arms were crossed to hide your shaking hands from his view. They are just still enough to pour yourself another shot of tequila, and you drink it without a chaser this time. You shake your head first, then your shoulders, and end with your arms in an attempt to get your body to relax. You desperately need to calm down and carry on with the rest of the evening as you intended—Billy free.

You return to your spot just as Stu reenters the living room, and trailing not too far behind him is Billy. So much for him not being here tonight. Tatum finally looks over when Stu sits down next to her, and her jaw drops while she follows Billy with her eyes.

“Really?! I told you not to invite him!” She whispers harshly, making no effort to keep it a secret that he wasn’t exactly wanted. Billy doesn’t bat an eye; he just sits on the floor furthest away from you, right by the arm of the sofa Tatum and Stu were occupying.

“He just showed up. What was I supposed to do?” Stu whispers back, throwing his hands up defensively. “Just watch the movie; who cares?” He mutters, avoiding looking in your direction. You and Tatum both roll your eyes, settling more into your respective places as you attempt to focus on the movie again.

It’s not much longer before Duc de L’Isle is summoning the demon princess, Angelique, into a woman’s body. Even with the movie accelerating, you’re processing none of it. The small television doesn’t give off enough light for you to see everyone, but it does cast the perfect amount of illumination on Billy. The movie progresses without your attention, and even with Randy’s animated reactions, Tatum’s commentary, and Stu’s childish (and inappropriate) jokes, you have no reaction. You feel as though you’re watching yourself from the other side of the room, desperately trying to look uninterested enough to avoid any attention coming your way.

You and Billy are playing the same game. From his spot on his floor, you are just in his peripheral vision. He can make out that you're sitting with your knees to your chest, but he can't see your face clearly without making it obvious he was looking. He is actively fighting every urge to steal a quick glance at you, truly hoping to find you looking right back. Every so often, he adjusts, the hard floor starting to be a literal pain in his ass. Each time, he manages to look at you for what feels like half a second. 

Thirty minutes later, your couple of shots of tequila are starting to wear off, making you painfully paranoid about a certain someone. Just as you'd done before, you get up quietly and pad over to the kitchen. The tequila bottle is sitting in the same place you'd left it, your empty shot glass by its side. You sigh softly, taking the top off and pouring another to the brim this time. You quickly scan the counter for something to chase it with, but all the sodas are empty. You take a few steps to the fridge and pull it open, bending over to look for something. You spot a lone can of root beer in the back and grab it. 

When you turn back around, another lanky figure is waiting for you. You gasp instantly, and the root beer falls from your hand. Nobody in the living room stirs at the disruption; the movie is too loud.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you begin, your mouth immediately snapping shut as your brain catches up to your body. 

"No, just me." Billy gives you a placid smile. You don't say anything in response, stepping around him. You make it a point to hit his shoulder. 

"Fair, I deserve that." He nods in understanding, hands clasped behind his back. You deserve a hell of a lot more than a shoulder-check, you think to yourself. 

The can opening fills the space Billy expects you to take up with a response. He watches you intently, chin turned down, while you chuck back the shot and follow it up with root beer. You do your best not to show it on your face. 

"Arizona, I'm just trying to apologize," he begins, taking a step towards you. Immediately, you fall back and hold your hand up between the two of you. 

"Like last time? I'm not interested in hearing it." You snip back at him. "Why can't you get the hint that I don't want to listen to your fake sympathy? And I sure as hell don't need to be reprimanded by someone like you." You keep your voice low enough to keep this conversation as private as possible. The last thing you want is another confrontation like last time.

He stays silent and stares at you, his face falling just enough for you to notice. It's clear he fully expected his ambush to work, but there was no way you would go through this again. Not if you could help it. His nostrils flare so fast you almost miss it, but what you do miss is how fast his hand is wrapped around your elbow. You begin to protest and try to yank it out of his grasp, but Billy is intent on getting you upstairs. You both struggle up the stairs, and you are nudged into a bedroom with gaudy blue and red plaid sheets. The door is almost slammed behind you as Billy stands in front of it. 

"What the hell is your problem?!" He demands an answer, and you laugh incredulously. 

"Are you serious? What part of I don't want to talk to you do you not understand?" You attempt to leave the room, but he intervenes by stepping over to the left. You huff and try the other side, but he mimics you. 

“I rarely apologize, you should feel grateful. Are you that goddamn stubborn?" His height is an advantage in this situation, and he uses it to make you step backwards towards the bed. 

"Do I need to remind you that this entire thing is your fault?You are always so out of line; you just can't help yourself, can you?" Days of pent-up anger at the boy in front of you bubbled up to the surface. Your fists are clenched by your side, something Billy finds quite endearing. You were right; he couldn't help himself. It was too easy to get you this way: defensive, riled up, with a spunk nobody else in the group had seen except for him. He knew it was in there somewhere; he just didn't expect to find your buttons so quickly. 

"What did you say earlier?" He cocks his head to the side, and his forehead creases. A beat passes, and he snaps his fingers. "That's right, you'd rather rot than talk to me. Rot, Arizona. Bit harsh, isn't it?" He speaks evenly, his words laced with condescension. 

"I meant it, and I still mean it," you confirm. "You had no right to do what you did." 

"Oh, I know that. For the record, I am very sorry about how it all happened," he says, rocking back on his heels a couple times. You allow his words to go in one ear and out of the other.

"But if I hadn't, you wouldn't have told them. You and Tatum seem like two peas in a pod again, so was it that horrible?" His hands are held out, palms facing up as if to say, see? It all worked out. 

It takes a moment for you to decide if you want to even entertain this. 

"That's... Billy, that's not the point. It turned out okay, but it's the principle of the situation." You are too exhausted by the subject to continue holding your ground.

"Girls and their principles," he chuckles. You raise your eyebrows and shake your head once, about to really force your way out, but Billy tries to dial it back.

"It's a joke, Arizona. Relax. I really am sorry. I was a dick that night, and I would probably be one again. But everything is fine now." This boy needs an extensive course on the art of a meaningful apology.

You sigh, almost in defeat. Billy was so caught up in the specific situation that he was neglecting everything that occurred before it. You'd opened up to him; you'd trusted him with your feelings. You told him something you hadn't even told your best friend, and he used it against you. 

"That night in my room?" You start, jogging his memory for him since he had clearly forgotten. "I thought you were actually hearing me. I thought I was gaining another friend before I left, and you didn't care. You embarrassed me in front of everyone, yeah. But you also just..." You trail off, and this is why you didn't drink tequila. You can feel your eyes heating up, and you have to catch your lip between your teeth to keep it from trembling. 

"I what?" He asks. He's speaking softly now, inching closer to you.

You don't want to say it. You'd come to terms with the fact that Billy was not your friend, but it was unusual how simply unkind he could be. You had only been crying because of hurting Tatum, but you hadn't fully processed your feelings about what Billy had done. You were so intent on soaking up more good with your best friends that you ignored the other side of the coin. Now it was just the two of you a third time, and even after your bold display downstairs, you are still scared to tell him how you feel. 

"You really hurt me, Billy." You finally breathe, and Billy is right in front of you. As quickly as the air comes in, it leaves again. You blink profusely, trying your best to keep any rebellious tears at bay. For the first time, Billy feels. a pang of guilt. He wasn't the most emotionally intelligent guy on the planet, but he thought he had enough awareness to remember that this was a layered betrayal for you. 

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." It's the first offering of regret that you believe, albeit not completely. Each shot of tequila has relaxed you up to this point, but you feel that familiar air coming around you again, of your defenses being broken down with hardly any effort. You don't respond, and Billy takes it as an opportunity to move closer. Now you are almost nose to nose, Billy shrinking down to meet your height.

His eyes have that same look that you'd seen the night in your bedroom. His hair is falling in the exact same place. Deja-vu strikes you in the gut when you realize that once again, you haven't moved an inch. Billy's hand comes up to cup your cheek, head tilted slightly so he can get a good look at you. 

"You are so confusing," you confess, mustering up enough nerve to make eye contact. The corner of his lip comes up in a half-smile; he knows he's confusing. It's not an accident. 

"I know; it's what makes me interesting." He remarks, and your head shakes in disagreement. His hand is cupping your chin now. You're talking in order to keep yourself from passing out from the overwhelming heat beginning to build in the pit of your stomach.

"You don't have to be an asshole to be interesting, Billy." Your head is spinning from the proximity of your bodies. You begin to think back to your first encounter in Stu's garage—how charming he appeared to be and how easily his compliments rolled off his tongue. Even in your bedroom, he seemed endearing before it went downhill. In a different circumstance, you actually might've liked him. 

"Then what else should I be, hm? Any suggestions?" Before you can answer, his thumb swipes languidly over your bottom lip. It seems to draw a deep breath out of you, much to Billy's satisfaction. He has you exactly where he wants you, where he's so easily been able to get you.

"You could try being decent for once," you retort, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as you stay firm in your conviction, his touch is getting more distracting as the seconds pass.

Billy's smile widens. "Decent, huh? I can be decent," he replies as his thumb continues its slow descent along your jawline. You almost laugh. He can be decent despite proving otherwise at every turn. 

"Everything is okay with your friends. And we're finally alone. Do you want to keep talking about that, or do you want to talk about us?" He challenges. You want to push him away to reclaim some control over the situation. But there's a part of you that's satisfied the longer you stay this close to him. After all, he was right; everything was better now. He was the only loose end that hadn't been tied up. Tatum's advice is echoing in your head; it couldn't possibly be that bad. Could it? 

"I don't want to talk." Your voice is low but no longer hesitant. Your eyes trail from his lips up to his eyes, and without needing to say a single word, Billy understands.

His other hand cups just under your ear, and he pulls you the few centimeters of space to close the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours gently. The first thing you notice about his lips is the lingering taste of alcohol. You wonder for only a second if he did the same as you, downing a few shots in preparation for some kind of confrontation. Billy takes his time, his grip on you loose enough that you could pull away at any moment if you wanted to. After weeks of dancing around each other and playing tug of war, every logical part of you wanted to stop this. But the other part of you that never gave in to anything but always wanted to try—that part was much stronger right now. 

Your hands come up to wrap around Billy's wrists, and slowly but surely you stop fighting all of your urges to stay away from him. Billy takes this as a signal that you want this just as much as he did, likely for very different reasons. You feel his hands trail down to your lower back, resting right on the dip before the top of your jeans. Your hands find their way to his shoulders instead, and Billy begins stepping back towards the bed.

You follow his every move, completely enthralled by the warmth pooling between your legs to take notice, or really to even care. Billy's tongue swipes along your lower lip just as he sits on the edge of the bed, using his hands to guide you onto his lap. You welcome his tongue into your mouth and greet it with your own, your fingers moving to clasp around the back of his neck.

The excitement was starting to kick in, and kissing Billy turned out to be the most incredible thing you'd done in a while. Your best friend's words come back again, and this time you have every intention of listening to them. 

Your lips are still moving with his near-perfectly. It is a shock after telling yourself how incompatible you were and putting so much of your energy into making sure he knew just how much you couldn't stand him. A wave of urgency passes over you, and you're pressing yourself against him without a second thought. Billy groans when you brush against the steadily growing bulge in his pants, so you do it again. 

Billy pulls away just enough so he can speak, his lips even pinker than usual. "Slow down, Arizona. We have plenty of time," he teases you, and this time you don't take it personally. Your heart is racing, and you don't know what's making you feel more drunk: Billy or the tequila. 

"Sorry, sorry." You shake your head, attempting to get yourself to think clearly. Billy's hands are comfortable on your hips, his fingers dipping just below your waistband to rub small circles. 

"It's okay. Just come here," he says softly, easing you forward, his lips touching your throat instead this time. He places a few kisses, and a shiver runs down your spine that makes your back arch. He catches your lips again, but it's even slower this time. He's torturing you. You whine, beginning to get a little greedy when you hear someone who is definitely not Billy. 

"Well, well, well," Stu leans against the doorframe, shaking his head in amusement. You've never moved so fast before in your life, hopping off of Billy's lap and scrambling to try and look like you weren't just devouring him. 

"I fucking knew it; I told you!" He pumps both fists into the air triumphantly. Tatum and Randy soon pop up right behind him, and you begin to swear under your breath, hiding your face in your hands. Billy is sitting next to you, leaning back on his hands as if nothing was happening.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Randy is beside himself, pointing between you two with a look of horror. Stu nearly collapses in a fit of laughter, and Tatum stands with her arms crossed, trying to hide her smile. 

"Movie's over, freaks. Let's go home." She cocks her head to the side, signaling for you to get up so you can catch your ride back. Thank god for Tatum, whether it’s intentional or not she is helping you avoid further humiliation.

Billy remains quiet, and you almost look to him for some kind of help. What were either of you supposed to say? 

You clear your throat and adjust your shirt, avoiding giving him a second glance, and do the short walk of shame out of the bedroom. Randy is speaking nonsensically—a string of questions and words that don't make any sense. What you don't see is Billy hiding a smile of his own, even coughing to try and remain as stoic as possible. You hustle down the stairs, flushed with embarrassment, and follow Tatum outside to her car. 

Your seatbelts are on, and the radio is off. Now that you're out of that room, the reality of what just happened settles on you. Tatum is looking at you from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge if she should say anything or wait until tomorrow. You look at her, and a few more seconds of silence pass between both of you, and you burst into laughter. 

The third time was most definitely a charm. 

[jishyucks]

Walls, Brawls, & Sudden Rainfalls ‣ hrj

‣ pairing: renjun x reader

‣ genre: enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, fluff!, slow burn (!), college au

‣ wc: 23.6k (gawdamn)

‣ summary: Your first impression of Huang Renjun wasn’t the greatest. In fact, the first two encounters you did have with him were enough for you to conclude that he was just some cold-blooded boy who genuinely didn’t care about anyone else but himself. That was, of course, before the (damn) universe brings you both together to work on the local daycare’s mural.

↳ Alternatively where first impressions blind the fact that you two actually fit quite well together.

‣ warnings?: Brief mention of underage drinking, Renjun and reader argue really childishly lots, when I meant slow burn, I really did mean slow burn, very very brief mention of doing the dirty bc reader chooses to be dirty-minded (but they don't actually do it nonono)

‣ an:  this is the longest fic I've posted ever (so far), so it feels like I’ve incubated it in the womb, went into labour, gave birth, raised it, and now I'm setting it shi free and into the world lmaooo,,, anyways thank you so much to @hoonieji (my bestie) for reading over this and reassuring me that it was going great,, I hope you all enjoy this!!! <333

‣ taglist!: @hoonieji @nanaflwers @dandelionxgal @flowerpotrenjun @renjun-fairy @she-is-dreaming @mosviqu @hibernatinghamster @glamourizz — can't tag @markleeiloveyou @lovehowdream

ONE.

With the hundreds, hell even thousands, of people in university, there will always be a handful of rude, miserable people that you were deemed to run into sooner or later. 

Sure, not all of them mean to be rude. Often, there would be the occasional bump on the shoulder in the crowded corridors… Or there would be those newly woken up individuals who would give dirty looks, obviously not giving a single fuck. You’re a nice person. You understand those people since everyone did had bad days. But there was one man—cough—boy that genuinely had an attitude that needed to be fixed. 

You didn’t know his name, nor did you want to know his name, but you could easily pick him out of a crowd because of the smug look he always repped. Funnily enough, it was the very look you wanted to very badly slap off of his face. 

The only reason you knew of him was that he seemed to have a desire to be a menace to those who got in his way and unfortunately, you constantly ended up being on the receiving end of these situations. 

There was one morning you had been running late to class—no—you were sprinting to the auditorium in hopes of only missing the run-through of the previous class. Your field of vision chose to settle only on the doors of your class, which at the time was a huge mistake. The focal point blocked out everything else, causing you to run into the before mentioned boy in a rough manner. 

“What the fuck!?” You both were on the ground, briefly stunned at the collision, “This shirt is expensive!” You looked up and realized that dark coffee had stained the boy’s light-coloured shirt. The look on his face caused your heart to drop and eyes to widen. 

“I’m so sorry! I really am! I’m just late–”

“I didn’t ask for an explanation,” he scoffed. He stood up, peeling the shirt off of his skin. It tented easily. 

“I can repay you…” You say quickly, speaking before you could even process what you wanted to say.

“Can you pay for a hundred-dollar shirt?”

You shake your head, but you think of alternative ways to repay him. Only him interrupting you even before you could begin listing them indicated that he wanted none of it, “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” And at that he leaves you stunned, belongings still scattered around your puzzled self.

“Well fuck you, then,” you mumbled. Rolling your eyes, you were pulled back into the situation you had been in prior to the encounter. Class was a lot more important than some douche anyway.

Another encounter between you both happened after about a month of the first. The Starbucks found on campus was not at its busiest, yet it was not quite empty either. The baristas and cashiers worked their hardest to satisfy their customers, walking to and from different stations behind the counter. 

“Hi, can I order a grande iced caramel macchiato?” You questioned, one of your earphones sitting in your hand. The cashier nodded, asking for your name and other necessary information before you paid. 

You thanked her before slowly moving towards the serving counter, taking notice of the boy when you did. He had his head down, attention directed at his phone’s screen. He, too, had earphones in, practically blocking out his surroundings. In a way, you were glad he didn’t notice your presence, the memory of last month’s conflict running through your head. 

You placed yourself at the corner of the cafe, away from the boy but close to the counter. When you ordered at a cafe, you would often pay attention to the baristas, watching as they mixed up the drinks. You could see yours being made, which had been quick as there were still people waiting for their drinks. 

When the barista finally clicked a lid onto the cup, you begin making your way to the counter, ready to take it and leave. She slid the designated smaller straw next to the drink, so you grabbed it before the drink, then made your leave. Little did you know, the drink you took wasn’t actually your drink. 

“Excuse me!” 

You genuinely didn’t hear the boy calling you because of music blaring through your earphones. And even though he was waving his arms to catch your attention through your peripheral vision, your attention was poured entirely on the drink you held snugly in your hand, poking the straw in. 

“Excuse me!” 

He finally caught up to you, grabbing your shoulder to stop you. The sudden contact caused you to jump, attention shooting from the drink and up to the boy. You don’t say anything, pausing the current bop that was playing. 

“That’s my drink,” he gestured towards the drink, “Well not my drink but my friend told me to pick it up for him.”

You look down at the name, seeing a Donghyuck printed on the sticker. You blushed and replied sheepishly, “Oh I’m sorry, I genuinely thought it was mine…” You hold it out to him, “Do you want it? I haven't taken a sip from it yet.”

“Of course I want it, I’ve been waiting for ages,” he mutters, promptly grabbing the drink from your hand. Without another word, he walks away, muttering a string of words you couldn’t quite make out. 

“What? No ‘thank you’?!” You yell back. 

He doesn’t turn back, and not because he had his music playing, but because he didn’t want to. You curse under your breath and walk back to the cafe, seeing that your drink with your name on it had been waiting for you. 

Though you didn’t have the right to judge an individual, especially since you didn’t even know his name, the two encounters had given you a bad image of him. Two encounters in two different situations… you were being polite in both situations regardless of how embarrassed you had been only to be returned with cold responses. Who did he think he was? 

“Li Shang.”

“I agree, one hundred percent,” you replied. Yeji held up a hand for you to give her a high-five, which you completed. The conversation topic on Disney Princes had been more entertaining than the chemistry homework due next week, “That’s why you’re my best friend.”

“Him and Prince Naveen,” she kisses her fingers in a ‘chef kiss’ type of movement, “That’s all I have to say.”

“Also!” You hold up a finger, pause for dramatic effect and state, “Tadashi Hamada.”

“He’s not a prince… but I will let it pass because it’s Tadashi Hamada,” she giggles. You watch her sit back in the library chair she pulled out from another table because it had padding for your butt, smiling. She drops her pen onto her textbook, “Taste.”

Before you could reply and add to her comment, a third presence appears to the right of you and the left of Yeji, which puts the conversation on pause. You turn to see Jaemin bent down to catch his breath. He had a wrinkled sheet of paper in one hand and his phone in the other, his bag open at the top. 

“Woah, are you good?” You asked, standing up and assisting him towards one of the seats as if he were one of the elderly you helped once in a while at the old folks home. He nods but keeps silent, taking in deep breaths. 

Once Jaemin finally caught his breath, he began to spew out whatever news he had for you or Yeji, “That’s the… most exercise I’ve… done in years.” He gulps and sighs out, “Anyways, Y/N you’re looking for a place to work or volunteer at right? Like art-wise or something? Kids? Puppies? I don’t know… I forgot what you were going for…”

You nodded, “Just any type of volunteer or temporary job… Yeah, I still have no luck.”

“Well, this is perfect for you then!” Jaemin flattens out the crumpled-up sheet of paper in front of you, “They need some people to help paint a mural for this daycare. No previous experience needed. As long as you can hold a paintbrush!”

Yeji leans in to get a look at the sheet, “Woah, you get paid too! That sounds like fun. I would do it with you if I wasn’t busy with these damn classes.” She sinks back into her chair and begins playing with the sheets of her textbook.

“I ran here because a bunch of people might want the job.” Jaemin says, “The daycare is literally just behind the campus.” 

You stand up, the adrenaline Jaemin previously possessed taking over your veins, “Can you watch my stuff!?” Your phone was already in hand and you were ready to sprint out of the library and to the daycare Jaemin had been talking about. 

“Of cou–“

And at that, you were gone and running towards the building. To your luck, the library was by the back of the campus, so the run wasn’t as far as you anticipated. You could sense other students eyeing you as you sped past, though you didn’t really care since you were merely a flash in their eyes. 

Once you had arrived at the daycare, you entered and made your way to the front counter, “Hello, I’m here for the painting job?” 

The lady at the desk looked exhausted, eyes halfway closed and face struggling to present a welcome expression, “Can you draw and paint? All that kind of stuff?” 

“Yes! That’s mostly why the job appealed to me,” you replied, “Do you need a resum–“

“You’re hired…” she mumbled stiffly, “Please fill this sheet out and show up here on Saturday at one in the afternoon for further instruction.” 

Smiling, partly stunned, you nodded before turning to leave. That was easier than you thought… all that running was worth it.

TWO.

You sat across the street from the daycare, contemplating whether it would be better to come early or right on time. Through the windows, you could see that they weren’t as busy as yesterday due to it being a Saturday. It wouldn’t hurt to show up early right? Standing up, you dust your butt off before making your way to the crosswalk. 

“Hello, I’m here for the job information. I was hired yesterday,” you explained, “My name is Y/N L/N.” The person (wo)manning the desk was a different lady from a few days ago. The woman held a smile on her face, one that reached her eyes so, to you, it seemed like a genuine smile. You squinted at her name tag, which read Joy. 

Huh… fitting…

“Oh good!” She exclaimed, “Now you can sit just over there as we’re waiting for another person.”

“Another person?”

“Of course! We’re not expecting one person to work on the entire mural alone. It’s larger than it looks, so we decided to hire anyone who asked. Those two were you two,” she explained the situation, “I’ll further explain the objective of the assignment when the other boy arrives.”

Your ears perked up as you nodded, Boy? A small little piece of you started hoping that, whoever this other person was, was cute. 

You hear the door open behind you, a small greeting leaving the lips of the smiley woman, “Oh! This must be him! Are you here for the job?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the voice replied. It sounded rather familiar, but you were unable to pinpoint who it could have belonged to. Curious, you turn to look at the owner of the voice. Once you had processed who had been standing a few feet away from you, your jaw dropped. 

You both speak at once, evidently shocked at the coincidence.

“You!?” 

You couldn’t help but feel the sudden impulse to quit the job before it even started. You’d rather accidentally fall into dog shit than work with this unnamed douche of a boy. 

“Do you two know each other?” Joy questioned, “That’s even bett–“

“N-no, not quite,” you interrupted, “We’ve just… had a few encounters on campus.” You choose to turn your body completely towards Joy so that you couldn’t accidentally look at the other presence. 

Joy nods, “Makes sense… Anyways, name?” She directed the question towards the boy, pulling out another sheet from a clipboard. 

“Huang Renjun.” It was funny finally being able to put a name to his face, especially after all this time. But you very much preferred ‘that boy’ over his name. 

You feel him approach the desk, standing beside you as Joy begins going over the job instructions. You two were expected to paint a mural over the next month, about two to four days per week depending on how long you both worked. The theme of the painting is what was expected from a daycare mural, something pleasing to the eye, especially the eyes of kids. The two of you had freedom over what you wanted to paint but were expected to get the idea checked over by Joy before the actual painting started. Once that was approved, they’ll provide all the supplies for the painting process to begin. Easy. 

If only you were working on the project with anyone else but Huang Renjun. 

“Any further questions?” Joy concluded, shifting her glance between you and Renjun. You both shook your heads, “Okay good. I think a rough deadline for the idea should be around the end of next week? The boss really needs this done in a month.” You both nodded silently before turning to leave the daycare. 

“How do you want to brainstorm the idea?” Renjun had muttered before you were able to walk off.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “How do you?” 

He scowls, “I guess we can just meet up here during designated hours?” 

“That makes the most sense, doesn’t it?” you don’t feel like replying to him kindly if he spoke with an underlying attitude. Someone really needed to teach him basic manners. 

“Whatever.” Renjun leaves you alone in front of the daycare, giving you a chance to roll your eyes behind his back. 

You choose not to walk away from the daycare until you’re sure he’s left, opting to use your phone and scroll through whatever notifications you’ve missed during the meeting. Your face is left in a painful grimace, one that you didn’t even feel you’ve rendered on your face. 

You can’t believe you’re working on a team project with this particular boy out of all people. Yes, it was a bit overdramatic, but you’re not quite sure how to work with someone you’ve only had bad encounters with. It also doesn’t help that he seems to have mutual feelings for you—which you find particularly ridiculous since you really haven’t done anything wrong to him on purpose.

It’s somehow the next day when you’re able to tell Yeji about the happenings of yesterday. Though the topic only came up when Jaemin questions you about the gig and Yeji notices how your face contorts into a stiff frown. The both of you are sitting in the dining hall, food half-finished but untouched for the past ten minutes.

“What’s up with your face?” Yeji questions, almost laughing out loud at your shift in mood. This is something you really liked about Yeji. She was talented at reading facial expressions. There could be the tiniest quirk in your brow and she’d be questioning you to world’s end. 

You purse your lips and stare back at her, “What face?” 

“This face,” Yeji contorts her face into an exaggerated glower, “What’s up with that? I thought you were excited about the painting gig?” Jaemin nods along to what Yeji said. 

You don’t reply for one long second, trying to figure out how to explain to your best friend what happened yesterday afternoon. “Do you remember that guy I was really pissed off about a few weeks ago?” 

Yeji pauses to think, “The guy with the coffee?” 

You think about it and realize that both encounters you’ve had with Huang Renjun involved coffee. “Yeah, him! Today, at the meeting, guess who came as my temporary partner for the project.”

“No way!” Yeji’s eyes open, “That’s a whole coincidence! No wonder why you looked all pissed.” You can tell by the new wave of expression on her face that she feels sorry, “Is he still… douchey?”

Your eyes widen as you nod, leaning forward, “Yeah, but what’s new?” You’re about to roll your eyes, mouth opening with an intention to add more, but Yeji’s eyes shift from you to something behind you. She holds her gaze there for a few moments before her brows furrow in confusion. Her eyes flicker back to you.

“You know it’s not good to be talking bad about someone behind their backs right?” You turn and see Renjun with a friend of his. “Someone’s ending up on Santa’s naughty list.”

Your brows knit together, “You’re one to say something…”

Renjun throws you a look before taking a long sip from his drink. You can’t help but look at the beverage, an iced matcha latte, and feel yourself craving it. It looks good.

Renjun clears his throat, “Anyways, we’re meeting tomorrow.” His friend stands awkwardly behind him, looking like he just wants to be there to eat. 

“That doesn’t even sound like a question,” you point out. 

He shrugs, “Because it’s not… I have places to be.”

You look over at Yeji who’s witnessing the attitude of the one and only Huang Renjun. Even you can see that Yeji’s shocked at how Renjun’s interacting with you.

“Fine, whatever,” you wave him off, “Whatever makes you leave.”

“Good, because I wasn’t even going to give you a choice. I’m showing up even if you’re not there.” At that, Renjun and his (poor) friend walk away, leaving both you and Yeji rather stunned. 

In the corner of your eye, you see Yeji turn to look at you, so you look back, noticing her sorry expression, “Good luck tomorrow, Y/N.”

You thank her. Not because it was what people usually replied to the comment, but because you knew you genuinely needed it.

THREE.

Upon entering the daycare and being directed into a secluded room by Irene, another employee who ran the desk, you find Renjun sitting hunched over a sheet of paper. You could see his hand was working fast and that his attention was focused mostly on whatever he was doing. One side of the room gave you and Renjun a look at the main area of the daycare. 

“You’re late,” he muttered, not looking up. 

“You’re early,” you retorted. The clock at the corner of the room tells the truth. You had only been five minutes late. How much brainstorming could the boy have even done in that span of time?

He doesn’t reply to your response, slumping back in his chair to continue his brainstorming. You can’t help but make a face behind his back, slipping into a chair at the same table but across from him, refusing to sit next to him. You didn’t want him looking over your shoulder during your creative process, or else you’d lose your mind. 

But then you remembered that you were here to work with him. “You know, we met up here so that we can work on the idea together,” you point out, “But you do seem like the person who wouldn’t know what the word cooperation means.” Not even two minutes into this so-called meeting and you want to leave. 

Maybe you should just quit.

“You don’t even know me?” Renjun lifts his head towards you and scoffed, “So you can’t say that.” “You’re right,” you nodded, “I don’t know you, but I’ve bumped into you enough times to know you don’t give a single fuck about those you don’t know.” You pull out a pencil from your bag and take one of the spare sheets of paper sitting in the middle of the table. You start to write out random phrases that come to mind, whether it be inspirational or a pop culture reference. 

Renjun scoffs, “I’ll have you know, most of our encounters happened because of you.” You can see he’s adding colour to his draft, giving you no direct attention, “This all would be avoided if you weren’t an accident waiting to happen.”

“You know there’s always better ways to go about those same situations,” you spit back, “Because, I don’t know, accidents happen? Other people wouldn’t make big deals out of them.” 

Renjun mutters a quiet ‘whatever,’ under his breath, huffing out in frustration as he continues with his draft. At this point, you’re halfway done with your draft, which consisted of a cute scene of kids and a generic playground background. It was a bit mediocre, but you thought simple was cute. You both continue on in silence, letting the sounds of the kids playing drown it out. 

The silence wasn’t awkward. In fact, you could listen to the serene, no-sound room as if it were a hit song you’ve been obsessing over the past week. Anything but Renjun’s voice was a blessing, especially in situations like this. 

After about half an hour, Renjun looks over at your draft, “You do know kids can’t read, right? At least kids attending this daycare.”

You scowl. “Yeah and?” You continued with your business, “Haven’t you seen that movie ‘The Pursuit of Happyness’?” 

Renjun thinks for a hot second, “No.”

Your eyes shot up at him, surprised that he hasn’t seen the classic. When you weren’t in the mood to watch other movies, you’d naturally gravitate towards rewatching that one. It was a good movie, one that made you cry, yes, but you liked the underlying meaning behind the movie. “That explains everything.”

“What do you mean?”

You ignore his question completely, “There were words on that daycare’s mural, I don’t think it’s wrong to add some words to the mural, Huang Renjun. Besides, lettering is what I’m best at.” 

Renjun glares at you. “What if I don’t want words on the mural?” He quickly glances down at his own picture. It was more of a realistic picture, one of the skies with balloons floating through the scene. Attached to some of the balloons were toys or items associated with being a kid. It was simple, but he found it rather cute. To him, it beat your average picture of kids by a playground.

“What if I don’t want… whatever that is?” you childishly argue back, “Look, I know my idea is simple, but simple is easier and simple is usually best. Your picture has so much shading… imagine the two of us having to paint that.”

Renjun tries to hold back a laugh, “Are you serious? My picture’s obviously better than yours.” 

You both immaturely argue for another twenty minutes, pointing out the most ridiculous reasons for why your own pictures were one-hundred-and-ten percent better than the other’s. And it was consequently the stubbornness that both you and Renjun possessed that leaves you both with no decision by the time the shift was near over.

Your eyes drift to the clock sitting above the window, “Time’s almost up and we still haven’t figured out what we want to do. Let’s just settle with mine.” You push the picture towards the centre of the table, eyes holding your hopes of your idea being chosen. Maybe Renjun will finally break. 

“I don’t think we should,” Renjun shrugs, voice monotone, “Let’s just… decide on it the next shift. I really don’t want to deal with this—or you—right now.” Renjun picks his phone up and takes a picture of his and your pictures sitting in the middle of the table for reference.

You follow in pursuit before snatching your draft from its spot. You feel a sense of relief knowing that you can finally return to your Huang-Renjun-less life. “Fine, whatever you want. I don’t wanna deal with you either.” 

The shift abruptly ends with Renjun taking his leave first, leaving the room without another word. He bids a quick goodbye to Irene, who has no knowledge of what just happened before exiting the building entirely. 

Renjun feels nothing but irritation walking back to his dorm room. Days ago, he remembers being excited about the gig. He gets paid to do something he truly loves, all while giving such a flat looking building some colour to make it pop, which clearly was a win-win for both him and the daycare. But the fact that you’re there with the apparent purpose to contradict everything he’s planned, the excitement was simply sucked out of it all.

Renjun finally settles back at his shared dorm room, hanging his bag on the back of the nearest dining room chair before sitting himself at the couch, where both Donghyuck and Jeno were playing Super Smash Bros. Although they were rather loud, he’s just glad to be back in an atmosphere he knows he can relax in. 

“Hey, how was your painting thingy?” Jeno asks, eyes glued to the screen. In between Jeno’s question and Renjun’s response, there’s rapid clicking coming from the two boys’ controllers. 

“It was… fine, I guess,” Renjun mutters. He pulls up his phone and mindlessly swipes through social media. 

Both Donghyuck and Jeno don’t fail to notice the bummed tone in his voice. Donghyuck speaks up, “‘I guess’?” There’s more clicking, “You suck at this, Jeno.”

“Remember who I’m working with?” Renjun hints, “She literally contradicts everything I say and do for no fucking reason. It’s draining.”

More clicks. Then Jeno finally replies, “That doesn’t sound fun at all. Maybe she’s not aware about what she’s doing?”

Renjun sighs, “I think she knows what she’s doing. I just think she’s doing it to spite me. You should hear her arguments. They’re so senseless and they make me want to laugh.”

On his phone, Renjun pulls up the photo he’s taken of both of your drafts and enlarges yours. This is the first time today that he’s able to properly look at your picture and he can’t help but actually like it. No, he still doesn’t like your idea about the kids and the playground, but the words you had chosen to letter over top the main picture. 

Adventure Is Out There. Although it was pulled directly from the movie Up, the quote works perfectly well with the daycare’s name, The Adventurers. He liked it. But he wouldn’t admit that to your face. 

Renjun zooms out of your picture to show both of your drafts once again, eyes glancing between both images. The gears in his head begin turning, Renjun’s creative process in the works, as begins mustering up an idea that could possibly work for the both of you.

“How about we take your quote and add it to my picture?” 

It’s two days later and Renjun’s monotonously suggesting the idea that had developed in his mind some nights ago. No other ideas have been brought up since then and Renjun wants nothing else but to start on the project. 

You look up at him with a raised brow, “Oh, so Huang Renjun’s finally admitting that his picture is plain as shit?” You’re not against what Renjun’s suggesting, only because what he was thinking made sense. The balloons that his drawing had reminded you of Up. It did go well with your quote, plus you were able to incorporate your want of lettering. 

Renjun narrows his eyes at you, “It’s not ‘plain as shit.’ I just want to get this over with.” He reaches for a brand new piece of paper and begins drawing a second copy of his drawing. 

You sigh. “Fine whatever. But I get to suggest something about it too.” You eye how quick he was to copy down his drawing, head pivoting back and forth to replicate it. 

Renjun chooses not to look up, “What is it?” Although he was willing to hear you out, there’s still a splash of irritation in his voice. 

“Don’t make it so realistic.”

His head is brought up to look at you, “And why not?”

“It’s a daycare,” you say flatly, “Do you not remember that? Where’s the ‘cute’ factor in making it look realistic? This isn’t a commission from the city, Huang Renjun.” 

You have a valid point, Renjun thinks. He admits he’s been treating this as more important than it really was, but that’s just how he was. “Fine. It will be easier to paint anyway.” Renjun turns back to the new drawing, making it a little more kid-like. He refrains from colouring the picture before sliding it in your direction, “The quote.”

Pulling the new draft towards you, you pick up your own pencil and start your part of the drawing. Looking at Renjun’s sketch, you realize that you can’t place the words exactly how you had it on your original draft. There were areas that you didn’t want to cover. 

“After you’re done, I’ll colour it,” Renjun mutters, “Write down the supplies we need, then we can leave.” 

Only you using your eyes to look at him, you reply, “Sure.” And when he looks back down at his phone, you roll your eyes. Someone needs to tell him to simmer down with his attitude. Then maybe you can tolerate him easier. 

You pass the sheet of paper back to Renjun and sigh. There’s a sense of relief in your chest when you realize that this part of the process was over. Thinking back to two days ago, the way you and Renjun argued over what to do for the mural, you thought that there was no way you were getting it done in time, at least not with both of you being satisfied. 

But that’s all done and over with. Luckily this was the hardest part of the project. 

Right?

FOUR.

“You’re gonna be there for how long?” Yeji peers over her laptop’s screen, eyes wide at what you just told her. 

“Four hours,” you answer, “That’s not even that long, Yej.” You’re laughing quietly as you put your sneakers on, half-assedly tying the laces. The walk there is around ten minutes and it’s already 1:48. You can already hear Renjun’s ‘you’re late,’ along with his deadpan expression.

“I know, but I’m going to be here alone on a weekend afternoon,” she whines. You watch as her face quickly changes expressions, “Wait do you want me to bring you a snack later? Rub it into Renjun’s face that you have a great best friend who brings you food?” She bats her eyes and angles her face to convince you into saying yes.

You shake your head, “It’s only four hours today cause we’re finally starting the mural and we want to get the base done today. And I’ll be fine, I promise. Maybe invite Jaemin here for the time being.” 

“He’s off somewhere with his friend,” Yeji sighs, “But whatever you say. I’ll miss you!”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Bye Yej. I’ll miss you, too.” And at that, you’re off to the daycare. 

The peaceful walk to the daycare can be the calm before the storm, the storm being Huang Renjun. The idea made you laugh a little bit, childishly picturing Renjun like how animators would draw angry anime characters with a crimson face, steam blowing out of their ears and nose, and pupil-less eyes. You feel like that’s the only emotional state you’ve seen the boy in and you can’t help but curiously imagine how Renjun’s smile would look. 

You shake that thought out of your head before you let it run further into nonsense, finally arriving at the building. Through the glass doors, you can see Renjun sitting by the front desk. Upon entering, Joy, who was sitting at her computer, looks up with a bright smile, “Good afternoon, Y/N.” Renjun does nothing but let his attention waver over you for a quick second before going back to his own business. 

“Hi, Joy,” you greet back, “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Renjun finally stands up and stands at your side.

“Oh, no, no! You’re right on time and I will speak to you guys very quickly before I let you guys get to work,” she rounds the counter and leads you both to the meeting room like always, “So since the draft was approved, the supplies you needed, plus ones I’ve added are just in here. Grab what you need and you guys are free to start.” She shows you a closet near the back of the room, opening the door to reveal the many supplies that were ordered.

“Thank you, Joy,” Renjun nodded.

“It’s no problem! If you guys have any concerns, you know who to go to!” Spinning on her heel, Joy flashes one last smile.

“Chalk, white paint, string, ruler,” Renjun mumbles, taking the supplies up into his arms. 

You grab the paint brushes, “Why do we need half of what you just said?”

Renjun’s walking out of the room, paying almost no mind to you and your question. 

“Huang Renjun,” you say firmly, “Can you answer my question?” You both are outside at this point, “Or… or else I’ll chuck this brush at you!” Although it was a joke, you subconsciously knew you would if he seriously didn’t open his mouth within the next minute.

“So I can draw a grid?” He speaks to you as if you were stupid.

Oh, he’s going to get it, you think, but your thoughts and your body think and do different things. Your body decides to stay grounded where you were, “And why would we need a grid?”

Renjun huffs and turns to his bag. He fishes out the draft you both had made last week, only there’s a graph lightly drawn over it, “So we can replicate the picture onto the wall.” Renjun thought this over the past few days. If he and you wanted to mural to turn out exactly how you both had drawn it, eyeing it wouldn’t be the best to go about it. Hell, even drawing out a rough sketch of it could be difficult through eyeing it. 

“Can’t we just free-hand it?” You’re not understanding why Renjun wants to make the job more difficult than it was. There were only two of you. If there were maybe four of you working on the mural, then sure, go ahead and draw a graph, but there were only two of you.

Renjun shakes his head, “I think it’s worth it to draw the graph, that way there’s no chance of messing up.” He fiddles mindlessly with the string he’s been holding. You can tell by the expression on his face that he’s serious about this. You want to tell him that, ‘bro, this is a mural for a daycare, it doesn’t need to be one-hundred-percent perfect,’ but Renjun looks like he’s ready to fight for what he wants. 

“Fine, let’s draw the graph,” you say. 

Renjun looks at you confused. Why’d you back down so quick? “Huh?” 

“But you do it all on your own.” 

Ah… There it is.

“I’ll just sit here and wait for you to finish.”

Renjun wants to laugh out loud, not because the situation was funny, but because he can’t believe you’re actually saying what you just said. “Are you serious?”

You sit down at a nearby bench and nod, “Why would I be joking? You sure do act like you know what you want to do… so, go ahead. Do it.” A spiteful smile rises upon your lips and you wave for him to go on with his task. Being the stubborn boy he was, Renjun gives you one firm look before turning towards the small ladder. He drags it towards the right end of the wall and begins preparing the materials.

You watch him out of curiosity, wanting to know how he’ll manage to do it all on his own. You want to see if he’ll ask for your help, or end up wanting to free-hand the rough sketch in end. But as you do observe Renjun, it’s clear that he’s not going to ask for help or give up.

Renjun measures out string that’s about the height of the wall, 3 metres tall, and then the length, which was near 4 and a half metres long. Grabbing measuring tape, Renjun uses the ladder to measure and divide the wall into foot-by-foot squares, marking the corners of the squares with dark chalk lines. The job’s going to take long, that’s for sure, and watching him move up and down the ladder, while he tries his best to keep his marks aligned, you can’t help but feel bad for making him do it on his own. 

But then again, he wasn’t asking for help. 

Renjun on the other hand is struggling and he hopes you don’t see it. Yes, two hands were enough for the daily tasks he has grown accustomed to, but two hands weren’t enough to do this very task efficiently. There’s a voice at the very back of his brain that was itching him to ask you for help, but as always, Renjun and his stubborn ass refuse to do so, even if he’s on the edge of falling off of the ladder. 

“Can you hand me the black paint?” Renjun asks about forty-five minutes later. His hairline is drenched from sweat and the lack of expression on his face reveals how tired he was, “Please.” He hopes that you’d at least help with this. 

Without another word between the two of you, you stand up and pick up the bucket of black paint. You quickly plop it down next to the foot of the ladder before looking up at him, “Are you done with the graph?” You try your best to sound disinterested, eyes moving across the wall.

Renjun blinks down at you, “Does it look finished?”

There’s a caring instinct in you that notices the exhausted look in Renjun’s eyes. His eyelids are drooping, and he’s sniffling from the constant moving he’s been doing. Renjun’s sweating profusely from the sun beating down on the both of you, and you’re brought to wonder if he was prepared to be worked up to this degree. 

When your eyes meet his, you’re instantly pulled from your thoughts and you remember that you’re not supposed to give a single fuck about Huang Renjun, even if he’s working his ass off like this. He looks like he’s waiting for you to answer or leave to go sit back down. But a rogue idea somehow assembles itself in your head and you decide to just go with it. You roll your eyes, “Well, I’m going to the washroom if you aren’t.”

“Whatever.” He gives you one last glare before turning to the black paint and the string. 

You start making your way to the front door of the building, sending Renjun sneaky glances. The second he’s paying you no attention, both direct and peripheral, you make a break for it and start sprinting towards the centre of campus. There was no doubt that you look like a madman right now, zooming past students who were still on campus despite the day of the week, but you didn’t care. If you want to pull this off, then you need to do this quick—and quick means running like you were in a life or death situation.

Finally reaching your destination, you decide to take a breather, hands on your knees and everything. Your mind wanders back to the day you applied for the gig, getting deja vu from the exhaustion you’re feeling right now. 

Once you finally are able to catch your breath, you make your way into the building and sigh at the air conditioning. 

“Y/N! Hi! The usual?” The Starbucks worker, one you’ve obviously seen plenty of times, looks at you in an odd way but goes with the flow nonetheless. She’s smiling at you, finger hovering over the screen in front of her as she waits for a response.

You nod and add, “Add an iced matcha latte to that too. Make it venti, please.” She nods and continues on with the usual routine. 

You left as quickly as you came, although this time, you’re sprinting with a bit more caution, not wanting to spill the drinks you’ve used your own money for. You can’t help but wonder what Renjun was thinking right now—what were you doing in the washroom for so long? 

The two drinks you were holding in both of your hands said it all, though there was still no explanation why you decided to sacrifice some of your time and money for Renjun. It was just the nice person instinct inside of you that decided to do so. 

You’ll complain about it to yourself later.

When you finally return from your little mission, you’re lucky enough to arrive when Renjun’s distracted with the graph. You notice he’s done the vertical lines within the time you were gone.

“That was a long washroom break,” Renjun muttered rather loudly. He’s pressing the paint-soaked string against the wall, face angled slightly to the side in focus, “I was beginning to think you ditched me.”

You shoot him a glare behind his back and contemplate whether you should throw the drink that you bought for him at him. Instead, you say nothing and put the drink down next to his things, making sure it was in a spot that was safe from the surroundings. 

Renjun looks back at you, instantly noticing that you were now holding an entire Starbucks drink in your hand, completely missing the one sitting by his things. “Didn’t know they had a Starbucks in the washroom.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm and hints of irritation. He still can’t believe he’s actually been working on the graph for almost two hours on his own. 

“Oh yeah, they just opened one a week ago,” you shoot back. You plop into your previous place and sit there, taking out your phone to distract you from Renjun. 

You don’t realize how much time has passed when you see a pair of feet stop in front of you. You’re brought to look up at the owner, “What do you want?”

“I want a break.” Renjun answers flatly, “I’m done with the graph. Now work on transferring it.” He holds out the same draft he had shown you earlier, waiting for you to take it. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to show his shoulders and he’s using a small towel, that was originally supposed to be for the paintbrushes, to wipe his forehead. 

“Sure” was all you said before snatching the draft from his fingertips. 

All the hard work was done for you. Transferring it was easy. 

Gathering the supplies you needed, chalk, paintbrushes, and white paint, you get going on transmitting the draft onto the wall. The moment you start the rough sketch of the mural, you feel a wave of nostalgia hit you, remembering the countless activity books you completed as a kid. You can distinctly recall the pages where one side displayed a cute drawing of an animal or character of some sort, overlaid by a graph, while the page next to it shows an empty graph in which you were instructed to redraw the completed picture. This was exactly like that, only bigger and not for leisure. 

Your delight in starting distracts you easily from Renjun, who you unknowingly finally notices the drink you had gotten him not even thirty minutes earlier. Although he’s a bit puzzled by the drink, remembering damn well that he never got the drink himself, he lets his line of sight drift to your half-finished drink sitting by your things. When realization begins settling in, he does one more thing to confirm his thoughts.

Twisting the drink in his grasp, Renjun faces the sticker label towards him, eyes instantly finding what he was looking for. 

*Y/N*

His eyes flicker up to you, standing firmly at the top of the step ladder, unaware of the fact that his eyes have widened and the corners of his mouth have climbed higher on his face. Despite the fact he’s thankful and a bit sorry that he was giving you attitude the second you got back from your ‘washroom break,’ the larger part of Renjun that’s still certainly irritated with you doesn’t say thank you.

Not out loud at least.

FIVE.

Painting a mural required many steps because painting on a giant wall was different to painting on a smaller, feasible canvas. You and Renjun were lucky enough that the wall had already been painted white, which you guess covered whatever was painted underneath.

Two shifts ago, you both had managed to finish the outline of the image you both had prepared for the mural, and the shift after that, you both opted to outline the main subjects of the mural with the base colours. 

Although no problems had really arisen between the both of you (if you didn’t count small arguments about what shade of said colour a balloon should be), one weird thing you both noticed was the fact that none of you will willingly start on the same side as the other. You were no professional artist, nor have you been painting your entire life, but you knew damn well that the process of painting an image often involved starting at one part of the painting (usually the top) before working towards the other end. But regardless, the mural was, to your surprise, looking well done. 

Today was the third day, and counting, of painting said first layer, and if you were being honest, you were having the fun you expected when you first applied for the gig. But you knew it was probably because you and Renjun simply chose not to speak with each other, aside from the simple ‘where’s the thicker paintbrush’ or ‘can you hand me that (mural painting tool here),’ there was an unspoken almost-truce between the two of you. 

Leaning towards the wall, you apply lavender-coloured paint in short strokes, following the shape of the balloon you’ve been working for the past eleven minutes. You have music playing through your headphones, the volume just above half, and you can’t help but bop your head to the music. 

“It’s almost five,” Renjun says quietly to you. He’s been working in silence the past few hours, but he almost loses track of time because of how caught up he’s gotten with painting. If it hadn’t been for the watch on his wrist, he would have gone overtime. 

You don’t reply to him, continuing with your painting while Renjun begins to clean up. He finishes up with what he was working on before climbing down the ladder. He rinses the brush down and dries it, placing it into the paintbrush container that was provided for you both. Noticing that you haven’t moved from your spot, Renjun calls out to you again, “Hey! It’s almost five. We need to start cleaning up.” 

Renjun sighs when he realizes you still can’t hear him, forcing him to walk up to you to catch your attention. He tugs gently at your jeans, which almost immediately catch your attention. You pull one side of your headphones off and glare down at him, “What do you want?” 

“I said it’s five,” Renjun reciprocates your attitude, “Start cleaning up.” He turns away and starts gathering his things. 

You blow a stray piece of hair from in front of your face and roll your eyes, though you are surprised that Renjun had the decency to let you know it’s time to go. You climb down your own ladder and do just as Renjun did earlier before carefully placing everything into a large storage bin. Then, once you were sure all the supplies were gathered inside the bin, you go to retrieve the step ladder, folding it so that you could use your shoulder to carry it. Renjun stands at one side of the bin to help you carry it, already having his belongings hanging from one shoulder.

It takes you both no longer than a minute to return the supplies to the closet, leaving with a goodbye to Irene, but no exchanges between the two of you (unsurprisingly). You let Renjun leave first, staying back to text Yeji where she and Jaemin were.

At the library studying!

Jaemin brought brownies 

Say less. 

You arrive at the library within the length of two songs, immediately finding the two sitting in the area that you all usually sat at. You were expecting them to be deep in focus, table drowning in pages and textbooks of their respective classes, but instead, you catch Yeji telling Jaemin to ‘shut up before we’re kicked out.’ 

“I thought you guys were supposed to be studying,” you snort, taking the spot next to Yeji. After standing for hours straight, being able to finally sit down felt good in the knees. 

“Yeah, we were, but then Jaemin decided to bring up the topic of ugliest animals and we’ve been arguing ever since.” Yeji glares at Jaemin, “He claims that axolotls are the ugliest, but I say they’re cute.” 

Jaemin starts laughing but you send him a look that was similar to Yeji’s, “Axolotls are cute, what are you even saying!?” Yeji’s eyes widen as she brings a hand up to cover your mouth. She shushes you.

She removes her hand from your mouth and you repeat yourself, but lower your volume, “What are you even saying? They look like they’re smiling.” 

Jaemin gasps, “Excuse me? Name an animal uglier than an axolotl.” 

“Easy.” You shrug and answer flatly, “You.” Obviously joking, you wave your hand as if to shoo away the statement, “Just kidding. A blobfish. Those are ugly as shit.” 

Jaemin’s brows furrow as he leans forward towards his laptop to search it up. The way his face contorts itself makes you laugh, looking at you as if he’s seen the most disgusting image known to man (which probably did), “Shit, you’re right.” 

You nod, “Exactly.” 

Yeji laughs because she knows she won the argument thanks to your help. She quickly moves on with the topic, twisting the chair to face you, “So, how was your shift today?” Yeji’s expecting to hear something entertaining, especially since you’re working with Renjun. 

“It was fine,” you say, “But it’s been like the past few days where me or Renjun don’t even talk to each other except for maybe the start and end. We work on the opposite sides of the mural anyways, so there’s no conflict. I’ve just been listening to my own music, too, so even if he does want to talk, he has to make an effort, which I know he won’t do.” 

“Oh,” Yeji says, “Well, at least it isn’t as bad as those first few days. You guys just both sound done with each other.” You nodded and play with your phone in hand, not noticing the way Yeji’s attention diverts to Jaemin, “Oh right!”

“Hm?”

“Jaemin, tell Y/N what you were telling me about Renjun!” Your ears perk up at the mention of Renjun and possible gossip. Jaemin, though introverted, loved to branch out which meant he knew people through people. You wonder what type of stuff he’s heard of Renjun through acquaintances. This should be good. 

For the hundredth time within the hour, Jaemin is distracted from his pending paper, but he doesn’t mind. He’d do anything to get away from actually working on it. Besides, he still has a week to work on it. “Oh, right!” He sits up and slides his computer to the side, “It’s interesting actually.” 

The way Jaemin starts has you leaning in out of curiosity. This is probably what Yeji feels when you’re preparing to tell her about your day at the gig. “What is it?”

Jaemin lets out a ‘haha,’ then begins, “So, my friend Jeno knows Donghyuck because they went to high school together, and Donghyuck was the guy that was with Renjun that day at the dining hall, so we all basically know each other. I just don’t know Renjun as well because the dude is M.I.A. almost all the time.”

“Mm-hmm, go on.”

“I was telling Jeno how you were doing the painting gig with Renjun—don’t worry I didn’t say anything ’bout how you sorta loathe the guy—and Jeno was saying how Renjun’s always using his free time doing stuff like that.” Jaemin stops talking as if he’s explained every single detail he can about his small story. 

“What stuff?” You gesture for him to keep going because you’re missing a handful of information, “You can’t just end it there, the fuck?”

Jaemin laughs again, “Okay, okay, sorry. But in fairness, I was curious too so I said the same thing and asked Jeno to explain it a bit more.” The brown of Jaemin’s eyes visibly move upwards as he tries to recall what Jeno told him, “He told me that Renjun is always M.I.A. because he’s been volunteering at different places. He used to work at an animal shelter downtown, then quit to volunteer at the homeless shelter for women and children. But he quit that too, now he’s been volunteering at the retirement home near here. I guess he took up the painting gig for money though.”

You burst out laughing, “Ah, Na Jaemin…” 

“What!?” 

“Thank you for the laugh, Jaems,” you say, “But that’s such a bad joke. There’s no way Renjun’s done those things. If it is true, we’re not talking about the same Renjun.” The Renjun you know doing all that stuff? Please… it sounds like something straight out of a book. 

“His name is Huang Renjun, right?” Jaemin’s head tilts to the side. You nod. “Then, it’s him.” You gawk at your friend, “I’m sorry, it’s just… hard to believe that Renjun—the same guy who acts like some douche to total strangers—has done all of that.” It’s hard to picture it all, but it explains why Renjun decided to take up the daycare gig. It was all adding up now, but you’re not letting the realization settle that easily. “It was hard for me to believe it, too, especially with what you’ve told us about him.” Jaemin uses his arm to prop his head up, “But, I trust Jeno. There’s no reason for him to make all of that up.” Jaemin has a point. You don’t know who this ‘Jeno’ is, but there really would be no use in making this up. 

“You’re not making this up, are you?” You ask Jaemin. It’s still seriously hard to believe that all of this information was plausible. It’s as if Renjun, who you always viewed in a bad light, was now picked up and dropped under a new light. One in which you couldn’t even pinpoint if it were good or bad. Curiosity was getting ahead of you and you didn’t like it.

He shakes his head, “Why would I? Ask Renjun if you really don’t believe me.” 

“No thanks…” You shake your head, “There’s no way I’m going to ask him about anything. Especially not that.”

“Suit yourself,” Jaemin pulls his laptop back to its previous position, “Anyways, I need to get back to writing this paper.” 

With Yeji turning back to her own work, you’re left alone with your thoughts and the newfound idea of Renjun actually being… nice. It coincided with your earlier idea of Renjun repping a smile instead of the seemingly permanent scowl on his face.  No, you weren’t suddenly switching up with how you felt with Renjun because, despite the fact that there is this huge possibility that he spends his free time doing generous deeds, it didn’t automatically dismiss the way he’s been treating you. You guess it was just nice knowing that this sort of mini-hell you’ve been going through because of Renjun can finally be put to a stop.

°•. ✿ .•° 

“For Renjun?”

Renjun looks up from his phone before making his way to the counter. He quickly stuffs his phone into his pocket and grabs the drink he’s been craving for the past few days, “Thank you.”

“Have good one!”

“You as well.”

Renjun makes his way out of the cafe, cold drink in hand. At the back of his head, he wonders where Donghyuck is, because according to the time, his class should have been finished ten minutes ago and he still hasn’t texted. That wasn’t like Donghyuck at all. Usually, he would be bombarding the boy with spam texts asking where he was even though he already knew where Renjun would be waiting.

Even with that thought, Renjun shrugs it off, knowing that Donghyuck would find his way to him somehow. He decides to sit down at a nearby table, placing his bag on the chair next to him before fishing his phone back out of his pocket.

As Renjun finally decides to take a sip out of his drink, his mind frustratingly wanders back to that one shift when you’d bought him the drink without his knowledge. He still doesn’t know how you managed to get him his usual, especially since he’s aware he’s never told you it. 

He rakes through the depths of his brain to recall when you could have seen him with the drink. The one time you bumped into each other at this Starbucks, it was Donghyuck’s drink he was getting, so there was no way you saw it there. The one or two interactions after that, he doesn’t remember having a drink in hand.

Then he remembers. The day before the first shift. 

How the hell could you have remembered that? Were you that attentive? 

Why am I thinking so hard about a damn drink?

Maybe it was because the stupid drink was the reason why Renjun’s been feeling a pang of guilt everytime he’s with you. It took that one small random act of kindness to draw Renjun’s attention to the fact he was the one who often started the arguments and bickering between the two of you and you simply just returned his attitude. 

“Hey!” Suddenly, a body leaps out from behind him, almost weighing both Renjun and the other person down. It takes a moment for Renjun to realize who it was. He doesn’t even need to turn around to look. In fact, he’s not even startled by what Donghyuck had hoped was a jumpscare.

“What’s up?” Renjun questions, “What took you so long?”

Donghyuck shrugs and plops into the chair in front of Renjun, “What are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing,” Renjun retorts. He takes another sip out of his drink and tries to act it off. 

Donghyuck shakes his head, “You’re thinking about something. I know because your eye is twitching.” He brings his finger way too close to Renjun’s eye, “I can see it. Now you have to tell me.”

Renjun gives Donghyuck a look before glancing back down at the iced matcha latte sitting right in front of him. Sure, Donghyuck knows of you, but he doesn’t know of the interactions between the two of you. Renjun just doesn’t see the importance of telling Donghyuck these things. But maybe telling someone will get Renjun’s gears turning. 

So Renjun tells Donghyuck. From the coffee encounters, to the gig, the rough drafts, the drink, and painting. He makes sure not to miss a detail, trying to avoid sounding biased. He wants to know what Donghyuck’s going to say about this situation and he knows that sounding biased wouldn’t grant answers that fit with the situation. 

“It’s the fact that she still found the will to do something nice for me even though I’ve been a literal ass to her,” Renjun taps his index finger against the lid of his drink, “It’s not even that big of a deal but it’s been bugging me.”

Donghyuck sits in silence for a few moments, trying to muster up the perfect thing to tell his friend. “I really don’t know what else to tell you except that you’re stubborn as hell.”

Renjun’s taken aback, “What?”

“Sure, she probably felt bad for making you do the grid thingy on your own, but you’re right. You have been an ass,” Donghyuck bluntly continues. 

“So everything that’s lead up until now… it’s my fault?”

“Well, not completely,” Donghyuck points out, “Both of you guys seem to want to spite each other. Plus, you both seem really stubborn, which, adding both of those together, equals a shit show. But, if I were being honest, you started the whole hating each other thing. I feel like if you were nice to her, then she’d be even nicer to you. A bigger person move would be to apologize and be nice.”

It’s once in a blue moon that Donghyuck’s words made sense. Renjun thinks it through—if he were to apologize, or start being nice to you, how would you even react? Wouldn’t it be odd for him to just switch up like that? 

Renjun sighs. He feels like ripping his hair out. Maybe he won’t apologize just yet, not when his feelings are foggy. And maybe he won’t actively do nice things, only until he finally senses you wouldn’t react weirdly. He’ll just stop trying to spite you. 

“You’re right,” Renjun nods. Donghyuck grins proudly at his friend.

Maybe that’ll do it. 

At least he hopes it will.

SIX.

Painting day… five? Six? You’ve lost count if you were being entirely honest. 

But it’s not that it mattered. 

What mattered was the extremely ironic fact that you had somehow forgotten your earphones at your bedside table when you made it your number one priority on days like these in order to avoid any sort of conversation (or argument) with Renjun. But then again, there was probably a reason why the world had the audacity to pull such a thing. 

Since that day at the library, you had not been able to kick the thought of Renjun doing angelic things during his free time when he’s literally been the human embodiment of bird poop on a windshield to you. The curious part of you was itching to ask him about it, see if the way he spoke about it would bring out that hidden angel in him. But when you continue to think about it, you weren’t sure if you would be overstepping some type of imaginary boundary that the both of you had mutually set up. Was there even a right time to ask him about it all? You can’t imagine a time where you and Renjun would even be close enough to have a conversation with the topic. Even now, just physically, Renjun still chooses to paint near the other end of the mural. 

Well, as far as progress took him.

“You know if you painted as much as you’ve been staring at me, we’d be done this mural.” Renjun’s voice knocks you back into reality and it’s only then that you realize that you’re blatantly looking at him. 

Feeling a rush of heat run through your cheeks, you look away, “Sorry.” You quickly look away and try to make yourself busy with the area you were painting at, brushing the paintbrush despite already having painted that part.

“There’s no paint on your brush,” Renjun points out. He wants to laugh but he tells himself not to because it isn’t ‘on brand.’ Pshh… as if that mattered… but it did to him.

“Oh… oh right,” you laugh awkwardly and dip the paint into the closest colour, bringing it up with no thought.

“And that’s the wrong colour,” Renjun points out again. 

You look over at the mural and see that you’ve painted an entirely different colour on top of another colour. You gasp and put the brush down, “I’ll just… repaint it.” 

There’s silence as you hurry to clean your brush, using a dirty rag to wipe off the wrong paint so that the remaining remnants of it can dry out quicker. You don’t notice Renjun side-eyeing you, contemplating whether he should say something about the constant mistakes you just made. But then he remembers what Donghyuck told him.

“Are you okay?”

You’re thrown off from the words that just left Renjun’s mouth. You almost snap your neck when you turn to look at him, eyes wide, “Huh?”

He isn’t looking at you, instead keeping his attention steady on what he’s painting, “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

He’s an empath too? Wait, is that even how an empath is?

“Anyone can see you’re thinking about something.”

And a mind reader?

You are very much close to panicking, blinking at Renjun with no words to say. You’re contemplating whether this was the right time to tell Renjun what you know about him and ask him about it. “It’s nothing, it’s just…” 

Renjun turns to look at you for half a second, then turns back to the wall. It’s like he was prompting you to say whatever you were wanting to say. 

“I was just curious,” You start, “I heard that you volunteered at the retirement home near campus?” There was no other way to put it. You hope that you don’t sound creepy, as if you’ve been stalking him recently. 

“Hmm?” This gets Renjun hooked, “Where did you hear that?” 

“Jaemin told me.” 

“Ah~ Jeno’s friend,” Renjun replies. Although the conversation has, so far, been awkward, you subconsciously knew it was an improvement from the bickering you both did. It was more civil, and you were actually glad it's taken a turn towards that direction. “What about it?” Renjun holds back the attitude that otherwise would have been evident if he weren’t trying to be nice to you. 

You shrug and tighten your lips toward one side of your face, “Like I said. I was just curious.”

Renjun tries not to take anything of what you said, turning back to his painting.

Then you quickly add, “Do you have–uh–any stories?”

Renjun looks at you again and he can feel his interest in this conversation rising. He’s had many stories that he wants to share with his friends, but when he does share them, he’s left with the realization that no one’s listening. “I have a few actually.”

“Can I hear one?” You asked, “Sorry…. I have a soft spot for the elderly… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Renjun shakes his head, “I’d love to, actually.” You begin to paint once again, this time properly, while you wait for Renjun to begin his story.

“My favourite story since I’ve started volunteering at the retirement home is probably when someone had the genius idea to play hide ‘n seek with the active elders.” Renjun snorts at the memory. A small smile rises up onto his face, but you don’t notice. He continues, “I was the seeker, which wasn’t a good idea since I was new and I wasn’t really familiar with any of the residents there, but I thought it would fun, so I still agreed.

I counted to fifty, and there were rules where they were allowed to go and everything. Just on the main floor, and I remember the activities director made it clear that they were only allowed on the first floor. So when I went to look for them, I found all of them pretty quickly, except one.”

“Don’t tell me he… you know…”

“No he didn’t die!” Renjun gives you a look, “Why in the world would that be my favourite story?”

You shrug, “I mean, you seem like the kind of person to.”

Renjun lets this comment slide and continues, “I looked for him for almost an entire hour. One entire hour. It got to the point where a lot of the other volunteers dropped what they were doing and helped out. I was actually panicking because where else could an old man be in a building that wasn’t too big. Then the phone rang and the desk lady answered it, all she heard was snickering and I knew right then and there that it was that man. He was playing us.”

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly, “Wait, so where was he?”

“We gave up looking. We knew he’d come out sooner or later. It was just enough for us that he was alive,” Renjun retorts, “RIght before my shift ended, the same man walks in through the door with a whole box of beer in one hand and ice cream in the other.” Renjun’s laughing now and the sound takes you by surprise. It was probably the first time you’re hearing him laugh. 

You begin laughing along, “That sounds straight out of a movie! How the hell did he get out unnoticed?” 

Renjun shrugs, “Beats me. But I like to think that as my favourite story because he fooled us all. And no one knows what he did in those hours he was gone.”

“I get why it’s your favourite.” You can tell just by the way Renjun told his story that he enjoyed these things. You’d think that, because the old man caused so much chaos, he would not deem that as his favourite moment, but you were wrong. 

“Yeah,” he nods, “Then a close second would be the times they ask me to sing them their favourite songs. You can really see how playing something as simple as here comes the sun affects their day.”

It didn’t occur to you, at first, that Renjun just indirectly told you that he can sing—though you weren’t sure if he was good or not—but you were still dumbfounded, “You sing?”

“Sometimes,” he hums, “But it’s really nothing. Old people are impressed by anything.” Renjun puts the paintbrush down and flicks his wrist up to check the time, “Anyways, time’s almost up. We should start cleaning up.” 

And you both do. You both go through your usual cleaning routine before dragging all everything back into the daycare’s small closet. Once you were both were ready to leave, you go your separate ways, saying goodbye each other with small, subtle waves.

And you know what was funny about all of this? 

For the first time ever since you both met, there was zero negative intent behind any of your guys’ thoughts and actions.

SEVEN.

One new thing that you’ve learned from Renjun was that he was a pretty good storyteller, and alongside that, he had lots of stories to tell. 

Wait that’s two things. 

Nevermind that… The last two shifts of painting were pleasingly occupied with Renjun going on and on about his experiences at his volunteering opportunities. He jumped from talking about dogs giving birth to dressing up as an elf for an event at the children’s hospital—it’s like he’s lived so many lives in one. 

A small part of you was jealous of the fact that he was able to experience all of this in such a small amount of time, but hearing these stories through him made up for that pint of jealousy. After one of his stories, Renjun had stopped what he was doing and turned to you, “Do you have any stories?” 

You were slightly taken aback by the question, “Me?” It was a genuine question. 

He nodded before putting down some strokes of paint, “Yeah. Do you have any stories?” There’s a tone in his voice that told you that he was being serious. He wasn’t being the Renjun that you’ve grown to know the past few weeks—but then again, maybe that Renjun wasn’t who Renjun really was. 

“Not really,” you replied, “But don’t worry about me.” 

“It doesn’t need to be like my stories,” he pointed out, “Just a story.” Renjun gave you time to think of a story, providing some prompts for you so that you were able to come up with one on the spot. 

“How about a time when you thought you were actually done for?” 

At that, you feel a memory surface from your first year of university when you, Yeji, and Jaemin were caught underage drinking in Jaemin’s dorm by the RA, so you told him the story. How you all were completely drained from your first set of midterms and how drugs weren’t the best resort. So why not drink? You remember Jaemin had gotten a bottle or two of soju from his friend from a frat and he’s been keeping it for ‘times like these.’ In the middle of the small binge, someone knocked on the door, and you remember Jaemin saying he was expecting somebody and was stupid enough to not actually look out the peephole before opening the door. 

“And guess who it was?” you questioned. 

“Ummm,” Renjun lined one of the pictures, “His friend?”

“Nope,” you shook your head, “It was an RA. Out of all the people. It really had to be an RA. We were caught and he threatened to tell a higher-up, I’m not sure who.” Though it wasn’t that much of a problem, you remember your seventeen-year-old self feeling fear that was probably harnessed from tens of people. You were scared—no—you were horrified. It hadn’t even been two full months into the semester and you’re already in trouble.. “You should’ve seen how me and Yeji were begging for forgiveness. It was probably the deepest bow I’ve ever bowed.” 

“What happened, then?” 

“Right in the middle of our apologies, the RA and Jaemin started laughing like maniacs,” you recalled, “Yeji and I looked up and they were laughing at us.” You click your tongue against your teeth, “That motherfucker Jaemin pranked us. The RA wasn’t an actual RA.” 

Renjun bursted out into laughter, “Are you serious?” 

You brought yourself to laugh, “Yes. I was so close to ending my friendship with Jaemin. But he treated us to food the next week so… It’s kind of a stupid story but I can still remember how I felt when it happened.”

“No, I get it,” Renjun replies. He stands back from the mural to look at you, “Especially knowing how seriously they act on underage drinking, that must’ve been scary.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s mainly why Yeji and I were freaking out,” you nod. Realizing that you’ve finally finished the section you’ve been working on for the afternoon, you put the paintbrush down and pick up a rag. 

“Are you done for today?” Renjun questions. You look over at him and he’s still putting down strokes of paints, “What time is it?” 

You’re still trying to get used to you and Renjun getting along despite it being a good two weeks since you both had chosen to become civil with each other. But at the same time, it felt like weight was being taken off of your shoulders. It wasn’t like Renjun was a burden, but every time you had a shift at the daycare, you never really had the motivation to go because of him. 

But it was different now.

“There’s still like fifteen minutes before shift ends,” you say, glancing at your phone, “Wanna start cleaning?”

Renjun nods, “Let me just finish this and I’ll be right behind you.”

°•. ✿ .•° 

“Afternoon, Joy,” Renjun enters the daycare with a gentle smile, “How’s your day been?”

Joy grins from behind her computer, “Great, I guess. Yours?”

“Not bad.” Joy nods in response, “I’m sorry, I should have said this sooner, but today’s shift has been moved last minute.” She moves her rolling chair to the side so that she’s able to give Renjun all her attention.

Renjun frowns, “Why’s that?” He’s not sure if he could even think of a reason why a shift could be cancelled and moved, “Have you told Y/N?”

“Forecast says there’s going to be heavy rain today, so I think it would be better not to put new paint on the mural in case it gets washed off easily,” Joy states. At the end of her explanation, you enter the building with a quick greeting, situating yourself next to Renjun.

“But isn’t the rain for tonight? That seems to be enough for the paint to dry.” 

“What’s going on?” You asked obliviously.

Renjun nods, “Our shift’s cancelled for today because of the rain.”

“Yes, but it’s better safe than sorry,” Joy sighs, “But you guys can go and have a rest day for today. I’ll see you both in a few days!”

Without another word, Joy swings herself back to her computer and you and Renjun leave the building slightly confused. The sky looked perfectly normal on the way here. The air was still. There was no sign of a storm happening tonight. But Joy’s statements were confirmed when you pulled out your handy-dandy cellphone and tapped at the weather app. 

“She’s right,” you hold the phone for Renjun to look and he simply nods, “I guess I’ll see you next shift?” Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, you wait for Renjun’s response. He nods. 

“Yeah, I will.” Then you and Renjun begin walking down the same direction. You both hesitate before taking another step, giving each other a look. “Where are you going?”

“My dorm room.” “Oh, me too,” Renjun laughs awkwardly, “Uh… wanna walk together then?” 

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” you joke as you begin walking. Renjun follows shortly, keeping a good distance between you both. He chooses to walk your pace, keeping his eyes trained on the pavement in front of him. Although he feels like it should be awkward, there’s a comfortable silence between the both of you. 

It’s when the air starts feeling more humid than earlier that Renjun notices that it has started raining. At first, he didn’t mind it. The way the rain fell onto his head softly tickled him, but he liked it. It felt like soft kisses, if that even made sense. He looks over at you and he notices that you’re not bothered by the rain either. 

“It’s like Joy has superpowers,” you say, “One second, the sky’s blue, now it’s raining.” You only hope that the rain doesn’t get worse than now. Your dorm room is still a bit of a walk away and you’re not in the mood to get drenched. 

Renjun nods, “Next thing we know, it’s pouring.” 

And as if someone had snapped their fingers, the rain gets heavier, pelting you and Renjun from above. The raindrops completely contrast how they just were, thick and feeling like punches instead of the shower of kisses. You gasp and slip your bag off, bringing it into your arms to protect your expensive belongings inside. 

“What the hell!?” You say over the loud pitter patters of the droplets. You don’t know why you’re frozen in place. Perhaps it was the rush of cold water washing over you.  

Renjun thinks differently, opting to make a break for it. He glances over at you in near panic, noticing immediately that you’re not moving at all. Then, without thinking, Renjun takes no longer than a second to pull you along with him, sprinting down the narrowing pathway as it leads to the nearest building. He swings the door open, careful not to hit you in the process. When he takes out a key identical to yours, you realize then that this was his dorm building, “I think you should stay in my dorm while you wait it out. You might get sick.” You hesitate and think this situation through. Going to Renjun’s dorm? Were you even that close? What if–

“If you’re thinking about what I think you’re thinking, no I’m not,” Renjun grumbles, “Let’s go.” He waves you in and you’re led to impulsively deciding that, yes, you will accept his offer. And it’s mostly because you don’t want to be drenched in the rain, nor do you want to stand in this hot vestibule for however long the rain will last. 

“I hope the dorm isn’t messy, but it’s mostly my roommate who’s messy.” It sounds like Renjun’s speaking to himself but you know he’s trying to warn you. He’s walking a few strides in front of you, looking back subtly to make sure you’re actually following him down the hall. 

Soon, you find yourself walking through Renjun’s front door, greeted with a waft of some kind of candle scent. You can’t really pinpoint the smell to its exact fragrance, but you can describe it as homey–something warm and welcoming. 

“Lonjoon!” A voice exclaims from the small couch, “You’re ho– oh, hello?”

You recognize the boy who stands up from the couch as Donghyuck, both from the times you’ve encountered Renjun and from Jaemin. You wave awkwardly, “Sorry for intruding.”

Renjun speaks up, “Y/N’s dorm building is by the edge of campus and it’s pouring outside. I offered for her to stay here while we wait for it to stop.”

“I don’t mind,” Donghyuck grins, “Hmm, so you’re Y/N? I’ve heard a bunch of things about you from Renjun! I’m Donghyuck.”

Your brow cocks and you give Renjun, who’s sliding his shoes off and fixing them to the side, a look before turning back to Donghyuck, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he says, “You’re just as pretty as Renjun sa–”

Renjun throws his damp hoodie at Donghyuck’s face with the goal of shutting him up, “How about you go to your room and we take the living room?” Renjun approaches his best friend, holding him by his shoulders before pushing him in the direction of one of the rooms. It’s funny simply because he doesn’t even wait for him to reply. 

Once he has gotten rid of Donghyuck, Renjun turns on his toes to face you, “Sorry, that’s just how he is… don’t listen to him, he makes stuff up all the time.” And although Renjun’s actually telling the truth—because no, he’s never called you pretty in front Donghyuck—he knows Donghyuck’s comments are believable to those who aren’t used to his shenanigans. 

There were two ways you could go about it. Ignore him and make the situation less awkward, or tease him and see what he says. Either choice would be funny, especially because you could see that this boy is on edge with what his friend just said. But since you’re feeling nice, you choose the former option, “So, what do you plan on doing while we wait for the rain?” 

Renjun quietly sighs in relief, “We can put something on to watch? I’m just not sure what we should watch though.” He makes his way to the couch and he gestures you to sit in the spot next to him.

It’s crazy how your mind works in times like these. At the back of your head, you almost make sure to keep an array of movies to watch, ones that you’re sure everyone would be content with. But with Renjun, one movie hovers above the others because you could still recall your astonishment when this whole adult man hadn’t seen the one movie you adore with your heart.

“How about the Pursuit of Happyness?” you say, “You haven’t seen it… so why not now?” 

Renjun nods, “Yeah, sure. That sounds good to me.” Within a few clicks of the remote, the movie begins and Renjun’s offering you some snacks he managed to pull from the kitchen (or that have already been there, courtesy of Donghyuck). The rain outside is still going at it, but the movie masks the sound of the raindrops striking repeatedly against the windows. 

Renjun’s incredibly entangled in the film. You can easily catch this in the way his eyes were steady on the screen as he leans towards it. He mutters comments every now and then, ones that complement your own thoughts of the film. 

“It’s… it’s just going downhill,” Renjun frowns. His eyes finally leave the screen about half way through the movie, “I can’t believe you’re making me watch this. If it has a bad ending, I’m holding you against the emotional damage I’ll be experiencing.” 

“I mean you did agree to watch it,” you point out. Biting your lip, you hold a laugh back despite the movie not even being comedic. It’s Renjun and his current state that’s making you laugh. It’s new territory for you, if that was even the right way to describe it. 

So far, you’ve only met the stubborn and spiteful Renjun, and most recently, the generous and compassionate Renjun. His actual character, you’ve learned, sits in the middle of both of those. But the one you’re watching this movie with was different. He was vulnerable, ready to cry whenever the movie finally pushes past his breaking point. But you’re glad to see that he isn’t afraid to show it to you, especially since you both were still just starting this odd friendship.

“What the fuck. I can’t do this shit. What the hell?” You snap out of your mini trance and you realize why a string of profanities are leaving Renjun’s mouth. It was the very scene that had you bawling like a baby the first time you watched it, and tearing up now. The scene at the subway station. 

You let Renjun watch it, keeping silent as you pay attention to the screen, too. You could feel your heart ache, the scene grasping it, as your mouth grew into a frown. 

In a hushed tone, Renjun questions out loud, “Please tell me that this is the worst it gets?” Looking over at Renjun, you notice that he’s actually crying. There were tears streaming down his face and he’s sniffling like he’s caught the annual flu. 

“I don’t want to spoil it,” you retort, sniffling yourself. Looking around, you spot a tissue box sitting at the centre of the coffee table in front of both of you. You reach for it, holding it out to Renjun. 

“Thanks,” he sniffles. Once Renjun’s finished blowing his nose, he falls silent again, attention all on the movie. He’s so attentive that you know thoughts are running through his head at an unreadable pace.

Next thing you know, the movie’s end credits are rolling and Renjun flops into the couch’s cushion, “I get why you were surprised when I said I haven’t seen that movie.” He turns his head to face you, “Because that was a good movie.” 

The way Renjun’s looking at you causes you to shrink under his gaze, though it wasn’t in a way where you were cowering. You felt… shy? There wasn’t a word that was coming up that described it precisely, but shy was alarmingly close. “I’m glad you liked it.” He stretches his lips into some form of lazy grin. There’s a very brief silence between you both but it was enough for you to recognize that the rain had stopped, or at least, it had gotten weaker over the past few hours. 

“Oh the rain’s stopped,” you say quickly, “I guess I’ll get going then.” Within seconds, you’re up and grabbing your belongings. Then, you’re at the door, slipping your sneakers on thoughtlessly. At that point, you’re aware that it’s almost dinner time and the sun’s probably setting if you could see past the clouds. 

Renjun follows you to the door, “It looks dark out, do you want me to walk with you?”

If your life were a reality TV show, this would be when the camera unsteadily zooms into your face as it simultaneously changes expressions into one that’s a mix of confusion and shock. “No, it’s fine, there’s probably some people walking from class.” The door’s open behind you and you’re ready to sprint out. But Renjun stops you. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he grins, “I’ll see you around.”

“Goodnight, Renjun.”

Renjun waves and shuts the door. He lets out a huff before turning around to find Donghyuck standing there with the most irritating smirk sitting on his face. 

“What?”

Donghyuck gasps, “Nothing!” 

Renjun pushes past him to turn the TV off before going to fold the blanket he was previously using, “Then don’t make that face if you don’t have a reason.”

Donghyuck snickers and shakes his head in a way that only irked Renjun even more. He chooses not to say anything else because he knows that Renjun’s mind works fast enough to work two and two together. 

That’s how it usually works, at least.

EIGHT.

Routines are meant to be routines. 

Every shift you and Renjun were supposed to arrive, bring the supplies you needed to the wall, paint, realize that it’s time to clean up, and then leave. While you both painted, Renjun’s role was to tell one of his many experiences and your usual role was to listen. If not, comfortable silence or music will often fill that silence. 

But today was different. 

You and Renjun were finally painting the second layer of the mural, and although it initially wasn’t necessary, the second layer of paint gave the painting a bolder look. So you both went for it.

The day was going as it usually would. Renjun had finished a more recent story from the old folks’ home, going on about how he’s excited for Thursday. “Throwback Thursday. We play music and shows and films from their times. Even if they already do that anyway, it’s a bit more special because practically all the residents attend.”

“That actually sounds like a lot of fun,” you say genuinely, “I can’t imagine the nostalgia they go through.” You squat down and dip the paintbrush into the paint. 

“How about you come with me, then?” Renjun offers, “Are you busy on Thursday?” He stands and waits for your reply, watching as you freeze suddenly at his question. You only freeze because this isn’t how it usually was. He’s supposed to say something like ‘it is fun’ or go on to tell you a story about a previous throwback Thursday. But asking you to come with him? 

“Me?” You verbalize, “Come with you?” 

“Yeah!” Renjun nods, “They love getting all the help they can get.” He carelessly strokes the brush against the wall and watches as the concrete completely disappears underneath the paint. “And it would be cool for you to be there. That way we can share one of these stories.” 

“Um…” You don’t like using agendas, but right now would have been the right time to have one. “I’m not sure, actually. I’ll let you know before then, though. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Day of is fine, too.” 

The minute you get home, you feel a strong urge to tell Yeji about the invitation. But knowing Yeji, you know damn well she’s going to convince you to go.

You guess correctly when she peeks over her laptop and over at you after you’re brief ramble about it. “Didn’t you say that you and Renjun were on better terms now?” You nodded. “Well, I think there wouldn’t be any harm in going. Imagine how horrible you’d look if you rejected that opportunity.” 

“Renjun would understand,” you say quietly.

“Well, do you want to go?” Yeji questioned. 

You blink at your best friend, “It’s not that I don’t want to go. It’s just…” You pause and try to think about why you’re stressing about something that wasn’t even that big of a deal. Renjun literally just invited you to volunteer. It’s not like he asked you on a date (and why would he?). It was just the idea of him actually asking you to spend time with him outside of that gig that made you stop and think.

“There’s your answer.” 

“Huh?” your head tilts to the side, “Answer? Where?”

Yeji snorts and turns her attention back to her laptop, “You just said ‘it’s not that I don’t want to go.’ That implies that you do wanna go. Then go.” 

With a little bit more pushing from Yeji, you find yourself standing in front of Renjun’s dorm building that very Thursday with a tote bag and your head filled with thoughts that you couldn’t even comprehend. If you focused hard enough, you could pick out ones about what today’s dinner will be, how the residents were like outside of Renjun’s stories, and what the retirement home looked like. There were traces of what remaining tasks you needed done for the mural and if you’ve somehow left assignments unfinished. Then there were ones of Renjun and–

“Sorry for making you wait.” You jump and find Renjun appear in your field of vision. He’s fixing his crossbody bag over his shoulder, then you watch has he fixes the cap on his head, “I’m excited! Let’s go then?”

You and Renjun make small talk on the way to the retirement, which you admit, thought would be further away. But when Renjun told you that it was just a walking distance from campus, he wasn’t lying. The walk only lasted about ten minutes and the next thing you know, you’re telling the lady at the front desk your name.

“Alright, here’s your volunteer badge,” she slides you a laminated tag, “And here’s yours, Renjun!” You follow Renjun, who pins his own name tag to the left side of his chest. He pats it before saying goodbye to the lady, turning to you to see if you were set to go in. 

Renjun leads the way into the main lounge area. It was a rather large room, one wall being entirely windows. By the front, or what you believed was the front, was a big fireplace, and by that fireplace, a small grand piano. On top of the fireplace was a big TV that was currently playing the news, not that anyone was paying attention. 

Scattered throughout the room sat tables and padded chairs, some of which were occupied by residents. It was almost exactly how you imagined it, almost book-like, or ones you’d see in movies. It was cozy, yet not too cozy for it to be suffocating.

“Oh, Renjun, you’re here!” A slightly older guy seems to appear from the side, waving, “And you must be Y/N? Renjun told us you might be joining. Nice to see you actually did!” He sticks a hand out and grins, “I’m Taeyong. I coordinate a majority of the activities for the facility.” 

You shake his hand, “Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I’m a little nervous.” 

Taeyong shakes his head, “Don’t be! Everyone’s pretty nice here, especially in the afternoon.” He lets out a quiet laugh, “Well anyways, we just called down the other residents so we’re just waiting for them to come. Then we start exactly at five.”

Taeyong turns to Renjun, “You’re taking over for music right?” Renjun nods and cracks his fingers as if he’s about to go step into a boxing ring. 

“I usually take the role as emcee, but I was told I had other duties to go about for the next hour,” Taeyong says carefully, “Y/N, would you mind being the emcee? I promise you it’s not that bad. I even have cue cards if you need it.” Taeyong holds out a small pile of flashcards, holding them out to you.

Renjun lights up at the idea, “It would be fun if you did it! All you have to do is prompt the songs and the residents will raise their hands. Then you go up to them and hold up the mic to their mouths for their answer. Sorta like a game show host.”

“I guess I can try,” you say carefully. What was the worse that could happen? 

“Great!” Taeyong claps his hands together, “Thank you so much, Y/N. I appreciate it!” He hands you the cue cards and goes to leave, “Have fun guys!” 

Once Taeyong was gone, Renjun turns to you, “I know it’s a heavy job but don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. I promise you, the old folks have gone through a lot, so slip-ups won’t matter to them at all.” 

You nodded, “I hope so. You better help me up there if something goes wrong.” You give him a look of warning, though it was playful and meant well. Renjun knew how Throwback Thursdays worked—this was your first one—so you don’t really have a feel of how it should be brought out.

“I will, don’t worry,” Renjun ensures, “How bout this. I’ll do the introduction and then you go from there. That way, you’re not super lost.”

“That would help,” you grin. 

Soon, little by little, the residents begin filling the room, taking seats at what you understood as their usual seats. They chattered amongst themselves, having conversations that mostly consisted of today’s weather or the news that was playing on the TV. From a nearby table, you overhear two ladies lightheartedly trash-talking each other, arguing over who would get the most correct songs for this week’s Throwback Thursday.

You can’t help but laugh at the bickering. Renjun notices this and smiles to himself. He’s glad you’re enjoying it so far. “There’s a leaderboard, if you’re wondering why they’re so serious about this,” Renjun points out, “Well not really an official one, but they keep track of it themselves. I don’t even know how but they do.” 

“That explains it,” you laugh, “I think it’s cute.” 

Renjun nods, “It is. They remind me of kids sometimes. They get happy over the smallest things. I admire it.”

This comment makes your heart do a ball change—two quick beats before settling back into its normal rhythm. It was just endearing seeing Renjun be all soft around what he loves doing. It only hits much harder when this wasn’t the Renjun you initially knew. 

First impressions were not always the best impressions.

“I think we can start with the intro,” Renjun nudges your elbow. He starts making his way to the front of the room. You trail right behind him, respectfully greeting the residents as you make eye contact with them. They obviously weren’t familiar with you, but they still smiled nonetheless. 

Renjun grabs the mic, turning it on before giving it a light tap to test it, “Good afternoon everyone! Can you all hear me?” You see some of the residents nod, others verbally responding with the loudest whoop they can let out. “Perfect! How’s everyone doing this afternoon?” There’s a chorus of different answers, but you can tell that they all were content with their day. 

“I’m happy to hear that! Welcome to this week’s Throwback Thursday! I think you’re all familiar with me, my name is Renjun!” Renjun turns to you, and gestures, “Today, I have my partner Y/N with me to help out! Can we give her a warm welcome?” Similar to earlier, they enter a chorus of replies, greeting you with waves and smiles. This made you feel much more comfortable. 

“Okay! So you know how all this works, I play a song on the piano, and if you know it, raise your hand. I’ll trust Y/N’s judgment on who raised their hands first. She’ll come up to you all and then you can give her the answer! Everything clear?” Again, a chorus of replies. “Then let’s begin!”

Renjun hands the mic over to you, whispering a ‘have fun’ and a ‘you got this’ before sitting down behind the piano. 

You look down at the cue cards given to you by Taeyong and find that it was the list of songs that Renjun was going to play for the night. There were about twenty songs listed down along with the artist. You felt a sense of relief wash over you. 

“Hello everyone! Are you all ready for the first song?” you question. You still feel a bit nervous, but from how Renjun went through with the intro, you knew exactly how you want to host. The residents cheered and you can feel the anticipation. It was nice that they were all willing to participate. “Okay, this one is really easy, so get your hands ready! Renjun, cue the music!”

Renjun smiles and nods, placing his hands on the keys for the first song. He begins playing it effortlessly and you’re a bit taken aback by the way he was playing the song well—it was My Girl by The Temptations. Renjun had only played the intro when hands were already shooting up. Your eyes naturally fall on a man seated near the windows, glasses slipping to the tip of his nose.

You grin and quickly make your way over, “I believe you had your hand up first!” Your eyes find a last name on his walker, “Mr. Moon. What’s your answer?” 

You bring the mic up near his lips and nod for him to answer. Before he speaks, he leans forward, “It is My Girl by The Temptations.” 

Although you already knew the answer, you still look down at the flash cards, “My, my, my…” You pretend that the answer is wrong, frowning and letting your voice trail before switching up, “My Girl by The Temptations is correct! One point for Mr. Moon!” 

You hear some of the other residents chuckle at your improvisation, clapping out of joy. You don’t notice as you walk back to the front, but Renjun’s smile grows wider. 

“Next song!” You read it, and hum, “This one’s a few decades newer, but I know you all will know this one!” You turn to Renjun, quietly signalling for him to begin the song. You watch the residents as they wait for Renjun to start the song’s snippet. Again he plays the intro, an easy-to-recognize sequence bouncing across the room. 

A different man raises his hand first, so you move across the room swiftly. This man doesn’t have a nametag, “Do you know the answer, sir?” 

“Of course I do, I remember going to their concert back in the day!” He speaks through the mic. The people around you react, eyes widening. 

“Oh, so you should very well know it, right?” You question, “Were you a fan of them?” 

“A big, big fan,” the man uses his hands to speak, throwing his arms to gesture something large, “Good ‘ol days. But anyways, the answer is Open Arms by Journey. One of my favourites.” 

“I guess you already know that the answer is correct!” you laugh, “Can’t argue with a fan. One point for you, sir!” He nods his head in pride before you turn to walk back to the front. At this point, you’re gaining more confidence despite it barely even starting. In a way, the interactions came naturally.

“The next song is one that might not come to you all easily since it’s a bit newer, but I guarantee that at least one of you will know it,” you say through the mic. 

Renjun begins with the intro, and you’re familiar with the song because you’ve heard your parents play it plenty of times in the car growing up. So far, none of the residents had brought their hands up to answer. You’re actually quite surprised to see that no one was familiar with the song’s intro. 

Renjun continues to play the song. 

Then he begins to sing. 

You remember when he had first told you about his time here at the retirement home and how he sang for the residents. You remember him completely dismissing the fact that he did sing for these people and after that, the subject wasn’t really brought up. 

Now that you’re here and volunteering with him, you finally get a chance to hear him sing. 

“Oceans apart… day after day… and I slowly go insane…” 

What the fuck. 

You almost say this out loud and through the mic in front of many many elderly people and you suddenly feel compelled to slap yourself. 

Renjun’s voice was unexpected, but it was beautiful. You really didn’t have any idea of how his singing voice would sound but now that you’re hearing it, it perfectly matched his speaking voice. It was satin-like and captivating—a voice you could and you’d honestly like to listen to all day. 

“How can we say forever?”

Your eyes drift to Renjun, who’s focused. His eyes are on the music sheets sitting in front of him. The expression on his face is calm and gentle, words of which could also describe his singing. You hope Renjun doesn’t notice that you’re looking at him, because if he did, it would be humiliating. 

“Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you…”

Then your heart does this thing. 

It was very similar to the little skip that it did earlier, but now, instead of falling back to the rhythm it usually followed, it only sped up in tempo. 

What the fuck. You repeat to yourself. Your eyes widen before dropping to your feet in panic. Because it really shouldn’t be doing that. Not at this point in time. 

“I raised my hand first!” One of the ladies knock you back into reality and you realize that a few people have had their hands raised. She was speaking to another woman sitting at the same table and you recognize them as the two women from earlier. You smile sheepishly, almost forgetting what your job is and opting to listen to Renjun and only Renjun for the rest of the game. You apologize, “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite notice. Can we play a small game of rock, paper, scissors to settle this fairly?” 

They play the game as you make your way up to them. Once it was settled, you bring the mic up to the winner, the lady who claimed she raised her hand first. “What do you think the song title is?”

“Oh, I know what the song title is,” she chuckled, “Right Here Waiting by Richard Marx.” 

“I love the confidence!” You say, laughing, “You are correct! One point for you, ma’am!” The woman cheered, ecstatic she got the point. Then, like before, you return to the front and you start at the beginning of the cycle for the next songs. 

You try your best to keep yourself together, especially when the song’s difficulty requires Renjun to sing part of it. He had a voice to be proud of. You have no idea why he didn’t choose to brag about it. But maybe that’s just Renjun. 

What’s ironic was the fact that Renjun was almost as charmed by you as you were with him. However, it wasn’t because of the way you sang, because if you were ever asked to sing, you’d warn them about temporarily losing the sense of hearing, but it was simply through the way you interacted with the residents. The best word Renjun could find to describe the way you spoke to them was genuine. 

You genuinely seemed to enjoy speaking to them, making small talk throughout the game so that you kept them entertained. Renjun also concluded that you were actually a pretty witty person. Jokes and fitting comments were flying out of your mouth whenever you pleased, giving the residents a reason to laugh hearty laughs.

Though it really didn’t appear to be that big of a deal to anyone else, Renjun found it endearing. It was simply just a trait that he found worthy of adoring. 

Renjun slumps behind the piano relieved that the instrument was helping him hide the smile that was uncontrollably growing upon his lips. And if you see him with that big, fat, doting smile, he wouldn’t know what to do.

At the end of the game and its conclusion, you actually find yourself feeling bummed that it was over. You stand at the side of the room, watching as the residents either take their leave or decide to stay in the lounge room a bit longer. You bow to the ones who cross your path, thanking them for being great participants. 

“Will you be back next week?” a lady stops to talk to you, “You were refreshing to have. That young boy, Taeyong, follows the same script and it does get very tedious after a while.” 

“I would love to, actually,” you say, frowning, “But I’m not sure if I will. Renjun invited me to join but I don’t know if this is just a one-time thing.” 

“Oh, well,” she smiles sadly, “If you ever decide to return, you’re always welcome.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” you mirror her expression before she walks away. 

In her place, another lady stops and reaches for your hand, “Thank you for a wonderful time!” 

You shake your head, “It’s nothing, really. Renjun played a large part as well, I shouldn’t take all the credit.” Over her shoulder you see Renjun speaking to a few of the male residents. 

“Oh! Speaking of that lovely boy, are you two together?” Her head tilts to the side in curiosity, “You two make quite a cute couple!” 

Her comment makes you freeze in shock for a short moment. You and Renjun? A couple?

“Oh!” you shake your head, almost to the point where you could feel your head coming loose from the rest of your body, “We’re not dating! It’s nothing like that. It’s really the opposite! We only started being friends not too long ago!”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she only picks up your last comment, “You ever go to connect a plug to a socket without looking?” You nod your head but she could tell that you’re confused. “You miss it a couple of times, making small adjustments so you can get that damn plug into the socket. Then, finally, right when you get it in, the electricity runs through it to serve its purpose.” 

“I-I don’t understand what you’re saying, ma’am.”

“I’m saying that it doesn’t matter when you guys started ‘being friends,’” she laughs lightly, “If two pieces fit together, then that’s that. I know a match when I see one.” 

And without another peep, the lady walks away, singing a tune under her breath.

NINE.

“Is this enough?” Renjun’s pouring paint into one of the paint trays at the bottom of the ladder. 

You look down from the top of the ladder, “That looks like it, thank you.” You paint a few more strokes down before climbing back down to grab the newly filled tray. The goal for the day was to finish the second layer so that over the last few shifts, you and Renjun could focus on details and finishing touches. Judging by how much work was left, the two of you were probably going to end up working overtime. But none of you minded. 

“You know, some of the residents were asking for you when I returned a few days ago?” Renjun watches as you pick up the tray. When your feet find their way onto the first step of the ladder, Renjun unconsciously steps forward to keep the ladder steady, “I think they really loved your company.” The corner of his mouth quirks upward at the recent memory of you and your interactions. Not one inch of his bone regretted inviting you. 

“Really?” you light up, “I enjoyed their company, too.”

Renjun replies, “Yeah, really. I guess you made a really good impression on them.” Then Renjun makes a witty, lighthearted comment, “Unlike you did on me.”

You laugh and look down, “The feeling’s mutual.” 

Out of interest, Renjun lets this burning question leave his lips, “Why did you hate me so much anyway?” Then he shakes his head, “I mean I understand why, but I wanna hear your side of the story.” 

You take a seat on one of the middle stairs of the ladder and rest your head on your arm, “I guess… everytime we ran into each other, you weren’t exactly the nicest. I remember I apologized when I accidentally bumped into you that one morning before class and you made a comment about me not being able to afford your shirt or something even when I apologized.” “In fairness, it was before an eight AM and that shit was hot,” Renjun defends, “But you’re right. I could’ve handled it better.” He doesn’t even remember why he blew up that morning. But he does remember a feeling of remorse the moment he arrived in class and was able to reflect on what he just did.

“And that one time when I took Donghyucks’s drink,” you face palm because you don’t know how you even managed to do that, “You didn’t even say thank you when I gave you the drink when I could’ve taken it. Especially since it was you who had gone up to me.”

Renjun’s face heats up. He really was a whole douchebag to you. “I was in a hurry. But I could’ve handled that better, too.” Renjun pauses and drops his head to look at his feet, “I think my apologies are long overdue. But I really am sorry for both of those times. I don’t know… they were sorta both in the heat of the moment… but if I could go back, I’d treat you better. Maybe we could’ve gotten along faster.” 

“You’re forgiven,” you reply seriously, swinging your legs, “Besides, it’s not like we haven’t made any progress.” You look up at the mural and remember how your relationship with Renjun had been when you both started it. It was almost the complete opposite. “I think I owe you an apology, too. It’s not like I’m completely innocent either.”

Renjun turns to go back to his spot, “You don’t even need to apologize. You were just treating me the way I was treating you.” 

“Doesn’t make it okay,” you stand up and dip the paintbrush in paint. 

“True, but still.” Renjun raises his head to look at you, “But I forgive you too. Even though I still don’t think you need to say sorry.”

You don’t say anything else. Instead, you playfully roll your eyes. Despite your reaction, you’re actually glad that you and Renjun were finally at that point where you could joke about about the past. Being able to openly share how you both felt, and just conversing about it proves that your relationship with him has shifted. It’s relieving.

“Hey Y/N?”

You look through the ladder and find Renjun staring up at you. His hair is falling back, fringe brushing past the corners of his eyes. He looks pretty. “Yeah?”

“It’s getting late,” he says, “Want to wrap up and get something to eat?” 

You’re compelled to make a ‘like a date?’ comment, but you hold back. You and Renjun just made complete amends. You can’t be that bold just yet, “Sure. Where to?”

°•. ✿ .•° 

A handful of bites and sips of pop later, you and Renjun are walking back from the closest fast-food restaurant from campus. The topic of conversation had been jumping from one to another, keeping the atmosphere comfortable and busy. Currently, it was about the pet peeves that came along with your roommates despite still loving them with all your heart. 

“Sometimes,” Renjun sighs, “Donghyuck, he literally doesn’t wash the bottom of the cups cause he thinks that only water rinsing it is enough. He only scrubs the rim of the cup. Once, I was filling my cup with water and I see remnants of dried out coke floating from the bottom.” 

You gasp and make a face, shaking your head, “That’s disgusting! Imagine if you didn’t see that. You’d just be ingesting dried coke.”

“He learned from that,” Renjun shrugs, “Cause even he experienced it. He always scrubs the bottom of the cups first now.”

“Good,” you retort, “Because I was going to tell you to remind me never to drink from a cup when I go over to your guys’ dorm.” Renjun laughs but he can’t help but interpret your comment in a way that could be considered overthinking. “For me, Yeji used to wash her clothes without putting them with like colours.”

“How is her wardrobe not fucked up?” Renjun sends you a look, “Especially her white clothing.”

You shrug, “Beats me. But that one time I caught her, I felt like her mom teaching her right from wrong. I have no idea how she’s never been told off in all her years of life.”

“I don’t know what’s worse, that, or Donghyuck’s old habit.” You shake your and head and look down. You wonder if Yeji had any pet peeves about you. What would they even be? You didn’t feel like you were doing anything pet-peeve-worthy. But then again, Yeji didn’t see anything wrong with mixing her clothing up. 

When you see your dorm building growing in your field of vision, your eyes widen and you turn to Renjun, “We missed your building!” You stop in your tracks and try to do a one-eighty to go back to Renjun’s building. The two of you were so caught up in conversation that you missed it. 

“No I did it on purpose,” Renjun shakes his head, “I wanted to walk you back.” A tickling sensation subtly appears and disappears in your stomach. 

“You really didn’t have to!” you say shaking your hands as a way to deny his kind action, “The campus is safe anyways! I could have walked on my—”

“I know it is, but I wanted to,” he shrugs, “There’s a difference.” He’s right. There is a difference. Because it’s one thing to walk you home with some worry that you’d get into some form of accident, you know, to ensure your safety (which you understood as basic human decency), but it’s another to want to walk you home. Even with the knowledge that you’d be safe because there were other students probably walking the same way, he wanted to walk you home and it was probably because he wanted to spend more time with you. 

You don’t know how to react to that implication.

He starts walking towards your building, hands stuffed into his sweater’s pockets. When he senses that you weren’t following, he turns back, “What are you doing?”

“Sorry,” you sigh, “I zoned out.” 

You speed up to reach his side, trying to process whether or not you were overthinking or not. Before you know it, you’re at the doors of your building and you’re fishing your keys out of your pocket, “Thanks for walking me here, I guess.”

“You guess?” Renjun laughs softly.

“I mean like, it was unexp–”

“I’m joking,” Renjun rolls his eyes playfully, “I wanted to.” There it is again.

“Anyways, I’ll head in now,” you say, avoiding any awkward silences, “Goodnight.”

He grins, and you swear you see his eyes twinkle, “Goodnight.”

When you reach your dorms, Yeji’s standing at the entry way, arms crossed with a smirk, “I saw Mr. Renjun drop you off… care to explain?” 

“What are you even doing staring out the window?” you glare at her and kick your shoes off. Walking past her, you tug your bag off your arm and plop it beside the couch, “And explain what? He just wanted to drop me off.” 

“Key word is ‘wanted’,” Yeji walks up to you and digs her index finger into your shoulder, “I’m getting this psychic-netic sense that he’s starting to harbour feelings for you.” You want to laugh because Renjun? Feelings? For you? It’s laugh worthy. “No way. We just made up.”

“Yeah, but you both were all chill before today,” she rolls her eyes, “He’s probably starting to like you like you like him.”

“What are you even talking about?” You’re ready to escape this conversation. Mentally, you’re in a position that runners take when they’re about to begin a race, but in front of Yeji, you’re stiff as a rock, grounded and eyes wide as you react to what she just said. “Nothing,” she shrugs, “You didn’t deny it though.” Yeji cackles and makes her own great escape, sprinting into her room before shutting the door. 

When Renjun finally gets home, he’s greeted with a bear hug from his own roommate. 

“I thought you died or something!” Donghyuck yells, “Why are you home so late?”

“I had dinner with Y/N and walked her home?” Renjun’s confused. He leans forward and notices tears in Donghyuck’s eyes. He doesn’t know whether he should laugh or feel bad because he’s never seen his best friend in such a state, “Are you actually crying? Look I’m sorry, I actually forgot to update you.”

“Yes! I’m crying,” Donghyuck glares at Renjun, “It’s not like I splashed my face with water or anything.” Donghyuck wipes his ‘tears’ away and ‘sniffles’, “If I knew you had a date, I wouldn’t have sobbed my eyes out waiting for you to get home.”

“It wasn’t a date,” Renjun hurriedly denies, “It was just a friendly dinner.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Donghyuck waves off, “Friendly dinner my ass.”

“It was!” Renjun’s ready to jump Donghyuck, “We worked for a long time today and we also formally apologized to each other. It was fitting.”

“You know what?”

“No, I don’t know what.”

Donghuck clicks his tongue against his teeth, “You like her.”

“What even makes you say that?” There’s a bazillion things running through Renjun’s head, but none of those things were coming to a single conclusion that made sense with this conversation with Donghyuck. 

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “The past few days, when you walk through that door from the gig or just being with Y/N, you have this sickening—but cute?—I don’t know… love-struck? Charmed?—Whatever you’d call it—look on your face and it’s painfully obvious that you’re starting to have feelings for her.”

Renjun gulps. He’s at a loss of words only because he’s never heard or seen Hyuck say something so serious in his life, “You’re lying.”

“No. I’m not. I can’t believe you haven’t realized it yourself when you’re usually more emotionally intelligent than me.”

Stunned, Renjun thinks it through. 

Sure the word ‘love-struck’ doesn’t really describe what he’s feeling for you, only because he knows it hasn’t gone that far. He thinks back to the day it suddenly rained, when you both watched The Pursuit of Happyness and he let himself be vulnerable in front of you. Then to the day at the retirement home and seeing your interactions with the older adults. Those few times you were too immersed in painting to comprehend what was happening around you… Hell, he even thinks back to the time you had gotten him that damn Starbucks drink despite how horrible he treated you that day. 

What did all these days have in common? Sure, all these days involved you and him, and progression in the relationship between the two of you. But the thing that persisted was how his chest warmed up in a way that was almost entirely unfamiliar to him. Shit, it has happened so many times that it has become familiar. 

Renjun sighs and he looks at Donghyuck with a defeated look, “I think you’re right.” 

“About?”

Renjun gets deja vu. He remembers the conversation he had long ago with Donghyuck about his attitude towards you. Never would he have thought that it would get this far. 

“My feelings for Y/N.”

TEN.

It was the final stretch. The mural needed no more than final details and cleaning up before it was finished. And after this, you and Renjun would be finished the project. 

You’re excited to see the mural in all its glory—no unfinished patches and pending layers. You can already taste the satisfaction, especially because both you and Renjun had worked your asses off finishing it. 

But there was an elephant in the room. 

It wasn’t a massive elephant, but it was there, sitting right in between you and Renjun and you didn’t know how to address it without him misinterpreting everything. 

The elephant: What would become of the two of you after all of this has ended? 

You look over at him with that lingering thought. 

It was rather baffling because your relationship with him appeared to be nothing more than two co-workers—maybe a little bit more than that. No. That’s wrong. You guys were friends—at least that’s what you considered him. You could easily tell he considers you one of his, too, but you weren’t sure that you were at that point where you would speak to each other after all this is over. 

You’d hate to see your relationship with him falter after everything. 

You’re hoping Renjun’s feeling the same way, simply because he hasn’t said anything all shift. Just a mere ‘hi’ was all that slipped out his mouth towards you, and a soft ‘thank you’ when Joy had come out to congratulate you both for almost completing the project. Otherwise, he hasn’t done more than breathe and paint. 

“You’re quiet,” you say playfully. You’re not sure if you were overstepping boundaries but you wouldn’t have said anything if you weren’t comfortable with Renjun. 

The noise in Renjun’s head nearly blocks your voice out completely, but you’re lucky to have caught his attention. “Hm?”

You finish the details of your current part of the painting and move onto the next. It was one step closer to Renjun, “I said you’re quiet. Is something up?” It’s a good sign that Renjun wasn’t shooting any sort of remark your way, but you can tell he’s avoiding eye contact. You haven’t seen Renjun so out of it. 

“No,” he replies, “No, I… I’m just thinking.” It was Renjun’s turn to finish an area. He takes a hesitant step closer to you to complete the details of a new area. 

 Dot. Dot. You use black paint to add details to a bear’s face. Its eyes. It looks a lot better than it did just moments ago. “Can I ask what about?”

Renjun pauses and thinks about his answer. You. He’s thinking about you. But he’s not sure if it would be odd for him to be honest and up-front. Renjun’s adding details to a toy car. Dot. Line. Dot. Dot. “Things. I’ll tell you when I get it sorted out.”

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” you say. You move on to a toy train. Line. Dot. Two lines. Although you’re still truthful about what you just said, you’re still curious about what Renjun was thinking about. Things was such a broad term. It could be about anything—dogs, the colour periwinkle, even his best friend Donghyuck. But you guess you’ll let him marinate those thoughts. 

“I want to tell you,” he says gently, “They’re just all jumbled and shit.” The best way to describe his thoughts was like a box filled with stray wires. All of them have been thrown in carelessly and now they’re knotted into one messy ball. He can’t even follow one wire if he tried. 

Now you want it out of him ASAP because what the hell is going on in his head that’s causing him to act like this that would be making him want to tell you? Dogs? Periwinkle? Donghyuck? Although you’re panicking on the inside, you remain calm and give a hum in response. You’ll just have to wait until he’s ready.

Time flies and the shift is finished, leaving just a smidge of work left needing to be done for the final shift. Even with the mural not complete, it was already at the point where it did look finished. But with the sun setting, you’re not able to catch a good look at the work with its deserved lighting. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Renjun says from behind you. You’re surprised he even offers to do so, especially since he seemed to be preoccupied with his thoughts. Despite this, you don’t refuse because you’re not sure if this would be the last time Renjun would be walking you home. Besides, you want to spend as much time as you can with him. 

“How are those thoughts in your head?” you question. You both are halfway to your dorm and Renjun’s been mute the entire way. This was your way of pushing some sort of statement out of him because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. 

Renjun huffs and hums to indicate that he’s thinking of a response, “Do you ever think a certain way about something but…  I don’t know, you have some sort of conflict with yourself about those same thoughts and feelings?”

You pause and think about what Renjun’s trying to get at, but he’s being unclear, “In what context?”

Renjun turns to look at you, “It’s hard to put it into words but it’s like… new thoughts you feel like shouldn’t even be there but are there. It’s not like they’re forbidden or bad, but it’s just weird.” He sees your building growing close. 

“Hmm…” A part of you knows exactly what he’s talking about, “I get what you mean.” 

“How would you handle them?”

“I think that those feelings wouldn’t be there in the first place if you weren’t actually feeling them… or considering them at least.” If you could laugh out loud right now, you would. But you weren’t really risking looking like a maniac in front of Renjun. Your response to Renjun was something you’ve been telling yourself ever since Yeji had you questioning your own feelings for your friend a few nights ago. You only came to actually accept them now. 

“But I don’t think you should overthink whatever’s going on up there,” you bring a finger up to his temple and tap it gently, “Chances are that it isn’t as big of a problem as you think.” Then you laugh, “You know, this is one of the things that gave me a bad impression of you at first. You think too much.” Renjun playfully rolls his eyes in response.

You walk ahead of Renjun to open the door. You don’t notice that he’s looking at you with brighter eyes because you’re right. Renjun let pessimism win and its got his mind preoccupied with what can’t happen when there was still chances of you reciprocating his feelings (or at least, what he believed were feelings).

“Wait,” Renjun stops you at the door. He’s standing at the bottom of the steps with you at the top and he realizes now that there’s no turning back from what he’s about to do, “I have my thoughts sorted out now.”

“Okay…” You let the door go and turn to him expectantly, “I’m listening.”

Renjun swallows the saliva in his mouth and he feels his heart pick up in pace. Yeah…  here goes nothing. “You know when I first met you, I really didn’t think for a second that I would even like you as a friend. Almost everything between the two of us clashed, but now looking back at it all, we were being stupid and childish.

“That one day when you bought me a drink during our shift… I think that’s when I knew that there was a chance for us to not hate each other. I know it’s a small gesture, but it was the fact you did something nice despite the fact we weren’t getting along. It was sort of a wake up call for me. 

“Then everything since then and up ‘til now… the conversations we’ve had, the walks back to the dorms, the visit at the retirement home… I feel like my feelings did a whole one-eighty.”

Renjun takes a step up towards you and exhales a quiet breath, “I…I think I like you. A lot.” He doesn’t know where to look. “And it angers me thinking about how the mural is going to be finished because then I won’t have an excuse to see you anymore.” His head drops for a quick second before he tries to gather his last few drops of confidence before finally looking up at you, waiting for a response of your own.

You’re taken aback by Renjun’s confession, simply because you genuinely didn’t see it coming. It’s hard for you to create the perfect sequence of words to say to him. Your mouth hangs open and all you can say is, “Renjun…” 

Renjun’s heart drops immediately with the implication that whatever you’re going to say is bad and he stumbles backwards, almost falling back from the stair he was standing on. “I’ll… see you next shift.” And at that Renjun’s walking away.

°•. ✿ .•° 

You’re sitting across the street from the daycare, staring at the almost-finished mural. You’re waiting for Renjun to come and judging by the time on your phone’s screen, he’s twelve minutes late, which was funny because he never was late. Not even once. 

You can see Joy sitting at her desk through the window while there are kids running around in the play area behind her. You wonder if she’s wondering where the two of you are. It’s the last shift of this gig and you guys are late. Shouldn’t you both be early to get it over with?

Huffing you decide to make your way in. It wouldn’t hurt to get the supplies ready without Renjun. That way, when he arrives, you both can start. 

“Afternoon, Y/N,” Joy looks up and around her computer screen, “Last shift!”

“I know!” you say excitedly, “I can’t believe it. Sorry for being a bit late.”

She shakes her head, “It’s no problem at all. You guys are almost finished, anyways.”

The door behind you squeaks open and you turn to find Renjun slipping through the doorway. His face shows no expression when he makes eye contact with you, but greeting Joy, he offers a small smile. They have a quick exchange, similar to what you just had with her, before you both are sent to grab the supplies. 

It felt negatively nostalgic, the way he was avoiding eye contact with you as you bring everything out. It was awfully similar to when you both still didn’t get along and you didn’t like it. 

You peek at him through the corner of your eye, heart skipping a beat. You can tell he’s forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He’s leaning in extra close to the wall, shoulder blade turned towards you in hopes to not to feel tempted to talk to you. 

But it was odd. Only because he’s grown so used to your conversations. 

The silence goes on for a while (it was just eighteen minutes, but it felt much longer), and everytime you think Renjun’s finally going to say something, he doesn’t. There’s some kind of heavy atmosphere engulfing the both of you and you could feel yourself practically suffocating because of it. 

You decide to take matters into your own hands. Besides, you were the reason why he wasn’t talking in the first place. You were the reason why there’s this sort of tension between the two of you. “You know you left before I could even give you a proper response.”

Renjun’s breathing hitches at the sound of your voice, his movements halting simultaneously. “Judging by how you first answered, I didn’t think there was anything to hear.” He keeps doing whatever he was doing, but in his peripheral vision, he can see you turn to look at him. “I listened to you,” you say, “So now it’s only fair you listen to me.”

Renjun hesitates for a moment, but he slowly drops his hand before turning to look at you. 

“That night, I was going to say that I felt the same about you,” you say nervously. You’re straight to the point, only because you knew Renjun deserved to hear what you knew he wanted to hear three nights ago. “I just… couldn’t find the words to tell you that. Cause hearing me say that, it’s actually lame as hell compared to your confession.”

Your heart decides to use the inside of your chest as a drum and next thing you know you’re facing the wall. You try to busy yourself by finishing the last part of the mural’s details. Your cheeks heat up and you continue tentatively, “I can’t even exactly remember when my feelings for you started to become more than friendly-type feelings? I don’t even know if that makes sense… I just… started to notice that I couldn’t even handle these weird tickling feelings in my chest when I’m around you and I could not, for the life of me, stop them, but it’s not like I wanted to. Fuck, this is embarrassing.”

You’re starting to ramble. Cute, Renjun thinks, holding back a smile.

Putting the paintbrush down, he swiftly places himself next to you. As distracted as you were with your long, long train of thought, you don’t notice him standing next to you. 

“But I remember, at the retirement home… one of the old ladies put the idea of you and me being a couple in my head and I didn’t hate the idea of it… I think that’s when I actually realized that I liked–” You muster up enough courage to look at Renjun and you’re met with him looking down at you with adoration—the same ones the night that he confessed, “—you.”

There’s an entire marching band of butterflies in your chest and you’re sure as hell that Renjun can hear them with how close he was. The look in his eyes makes you want to melt into a puddle right in front of him, but you’ve embarrassed yourself enough. 

“You have some paint on your face,” he says softly. You gasp and foolishly try to spot the smudge of paint on yourself. 

If only you knew that Renjun was shamelessly lying. 

Without another word, Renjun reaches for your face, lifting it up with the inner edge of his thumb. Then he whispers, “I-I’ll get it for you. If that’s okay?” 

You’re too stunned to even say anything. All you’re able to do is nod. 

Renjun brings his lips down to yours and as if your heart conducted the band of butterflies in your body, they halt for a beat and a half before taking over once again. His lips press against yours softly at first, and once Renjun recognizes that everything happening within this very moment was perfect, he allows himself to fall into the kiss, bringing you two closer. 

The paintbrush in your hand falls to the ground and your hands instinctively find their way up to Renjun’s shoulders, using them to pull you up closer to him, deepening the kiss. 

It truly was perfect—if you ignored the fact that the two of you were probably being watched by anyone and everyone in the daycare—but the moment felt perfect. 

When you both finally pull away, Renjun’s eyes scan your face before he breaks out into a smile, bringing you to mirror it. “Did you get it?”

He nods. “Yeah… I did.”

BONUS SCENE!

When Renjun asked you to come back to volunteer for another Throwback Thursday, you were no fool to refuse. You’ve actually been waiting for him to ask you to join him again right after the first one ended—Renjun was just a few weeks late. 

“That concludes this week’s Throwback Thursday!” You say, looking over at the residents, “I really want to thank you all for participating and I hope you all enjoyed it.” You can see the residents smiling, clapping their hands. 

As the residents start to file out of the room, you turn the mic off, and you spin around to look at Renjun who’s seated behind the piano, “You almost made me cry.” Even after hearing his voice for the first time, you’re still taken aback by how captivating Renjun’s singing was. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of it. 

Renjun’s brows furrow, “What do you mean I almost made you cry!?” He stands up and approaches you in subtle panic, “Did I hurt you in some way or form or–“

“Jun,” you laugh, “Your singing almost made me cry.”

Renjun pauses and steps back, “Oh… then I guess that’s a good thing?” You nod and bring a finger up to poke his cheek which was pulled into a semi-pout. Seeing your finger from a mile away, he attempts to bite it gently but quickly retracts. 

“Y/N! Sweetie!” You’re attention is pulled from Renjun to the same lady as last time. The one who made the ‘couple’ comment. She’s gotten a hair cut since you last visited, so you almost don’t recognize her, but she has the same smile. She’s waving  for you to come to her and you do without hesitation. 

“You don’t know how happy we all were when Renjun said you were coming in today!” She exclaims, “That’s why there were more people that came in today because they heard good stuff from last time.”

“Do you think I lived up to those ‘good things’,” you question, “I would have done better if I knew people had expectations.”

She nods. “I believe you did. Everyone had fun today.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear then.”

You watch as her eyes flicker between you and Renjun, who was gathering the papers from the piano, “I’m sensing something’s going on between you two.” A smirk appears on her still-youthful face and you suddenly feel your cheeks heat up. 

“You were right about last time, “ you say shyly, “We’re dating now.”

She lets out a sound of delight, hands coming together to make one loud clap sound. “Oh I told you so, sweetheart! This is what I love to see! Does this mean you’ll be coming more often?”

Renjun joins you two quietly and you nod, “I sure hope so.”

‣ an: hey you! you there who finished my fic! I love you sosososososo much for taking your time to actually read this entire thing (༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ) <— [that’s me ugly crying] but I really do hope you enjoyed it,, maybe let me know what your fav part was? If you didn’t enjoy it (even a lil smidge) I’m sorry about that (༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ) I’ll do better next time I swear (despite that though, I’m still thankful you read it <3)

[angelltheninth]

Solomon Accidentally Forgets About Your Date and Makes Up For It

Pairing: Solomon x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, make up sex, kissing, clit stimulation, apologies, edging as punishment

A/N: Honestly I have trouble remembering important dates too, I get him.

"Do you really think that... fuck... that fucking me will make me forgive you?" He forgot your date again. Once could have been a mistake, but it kept happening. Either he would forget or he would be late, and clearly winded on arrival from running after eventually remembering it.

Worst of all was that Solomon always acted like it wasn't that much of big deal because he would always want to make up for it. Granted his apologies were always very thorough and lately he has been showing up on time more often the not, so you knew he was at least putting in an effort. But it was his almost nonchalant attitude that made you doubtful.

You grabbed his face and pulled him close, forcing the eye contact, "Do you even want to date me seriously?" Solomon's gray, stormy eyes widened in surprise at your question and the evident hurt in your voice. For the longest time he had trouble focusing because your pussy felt so good around his cock, you kept pushing back against his hips and using your leg to keep him inside but maybe that wasn't the compliment he thought it was.

"Of course I do." He responded along with a long kiss, "If wasn't serious about you we wouldn't have gone this far. I care for you." His forehead pressed against yours, seeking more closeness then before, "I can't, I really can't help it you know. But I promise to try harder for you, I hate seeing you sad because of me."

It took all your willpower not to flip him over and punish him, but maybe you could do it in a different way. You noticed when he was undressing, he had no real patience for it, his pants were barely down his legs even now, he was almost in a frenzy as he pulled your pants and underwear down and shirt up. He was close before he even put his cock in your pussy, way closer then you were.

"Don't come." You commanded with a fistful of his hair.

"W-What?" His cock have an involuntary twitch at your words, "Why?"

"That's your punishment for tonight. You don't get to finish." You clamped down around his cock with the deliberate intent to stimulate his cock. His almost painful hiss made you grin, "If you make me come I'll give you a blowjob tomorrow morning, get all that cum you've been saving up in my mouth, down my throat. But if you can't," Your pussy fluttered again, feeling so good when his pace picked up desperately, "I will edge you for a week, I swear to God."

Solomon started pounding like his very existence depended on getting you to orgasm. In this moment that was likely how he felt, but it was his own fault for forgetting your date in the first place, you had to punish him somehow, and you wanted to have fun while doing it.

"I'll make you come on my cock so good." He panted, sweat gathering on his brow, "I'll give you all my cum as an apology. That'll be okay right? You'll accept it? My cum? All of it down your throat in the morning." His sounded like the ramblings of madman, "Come for me." He pleaded, cheating by sliding his fingers down to rub your clit in quick, frantic slides, up and down, "Come on my cock, I wanna feel it."

He wasn't this agreeable most of the time but even a man like him could be brought to his knees, metaphorically speaking, by a punishment like this. Although he looked to be enjoying it as well, no doubt from the images of your mouth filled with his thick, white cum. "Hold still. I want all of it in me." Your legs closed shut, halting all of his thrusts, keeping his cock balls deep in your pussy as it trembled and fluttered around him, your toes curling and body washed in pleasant waves at least. "Still mad at you by the way." You panted against his neck.

"Uh-huh. I know. I'll fix it." He promised and unlike his attitude before you could sense real emotion behind his words and his look, "Wanna fall asleep with my cock in you? Promise I won't fill you up." Your pussy gave a needy squeeze at his words, making his promise harder to keep, but he did keep it. And so did you, because the first thing you tasted in the morning was his cock, and soon after, his cum.

[daffi-990]

Fuck it Friday 🍔

Tagged by @diazsdimples, @theotherbuckley & @tizniz. Thanks for the tags mwah mwah mwah!

Guess who finished chapter nine of Rival Firefighters 🚒!! It’s my longest chapter yet and it’s finally DONE! One chapter to go and she’ll be finished! Ahhhh I’m so excited! Can’t wait to share this fic with you guys!

To celebrate, have something completely different from Wednesday’s snippet -> light and not angsty (it’ll be smooth sexy sailing from here on out for our boys).

Prev snippet here.

He makes it to the restaurant with 5 minutes to spare, Eddie already seated and waiting for him. He’s on his phone but stops and puts it down when Buck approaches, smiling warmly at him. Buck swallows hard, his throat suddenly parched. Eddie’s wearing a dark forest green button up shirt that looks perfectly tailored to him, hugging his shoulders in the most delicious way. The sleeves of the shirt are rolled up, Eddie’s tan forearms on full display and Buck feels like a woman from a Jane Austin novel with how hot under the collar it makes him.

Eddie’s smile plus the way the green of his shirt is making his eyes pop, well Buck’s surprised his body is still in solid form and not a melted puddle on the floor.

He slides into the seat opposite Eddie, their knees pressing against each other. Eddie doesn’t pull away, in fact he presses his knee further into Buck’s and yeah, Buck isn’t going to get through this meal in one piece.

“Hey, Shannon not here yet?” Buck asks as he scans the bar of the restaurant for a familiar head of long brown hair.

Eddie shakes his head, “Not yet. I just sent her a text to see how far away she is and if she wants us to order for her or wait until she gets here.”

Buck grabs a menu and begins to scan it, pleased that everything is in english (he had a bad experience ordering from a French restaurant and ended up ordering snails) and that there’s a section just for burgers. He’s just decided on a grilled chicken burger with a garden salad and sweet potato fries when Eddie’s phone pings with a message.

“Is that Shannon?” Buck asks as he places the menu to the side. Eddie doesn’t reply and when Buck looks at him, Eddie is staring wide eyed at his phone, cheeks turning red. “Eddie? Is everything okay?”

“Uh.”

Eddie looks up at Buck, then back to his phone, then back to Buck before staring down at his phone again. He chews on his lip nervously before muttering fuck it, and sliding the phone across the table towards Buck, screen face down.

Buck slowly reaches for the phone, his eyes locked on Eddie who is staring so intently at the table like he’s trying to light it on fire with his mind. Phone in hand, Buck lifts it to his face and whatever he was expecting to see, this wasn’t even on the list of possibilities.

No pressure tagging: @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @puppyboybuckley @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @wildlife4life @lover-of-mine @spagheddiediaz @sunshinediaz @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @steadfastsaturnsrings @eddiebabygirldiaz @epicbuddieficrecs @evanbegins @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @devirnis @fortheloveofbuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @fiona-fififi @dangerpronebuddie @giddyupbuck @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @mellaithwen @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @captain-hen @bekkachaos @bigfootsmom @sibylsleaves @clusterbuck and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag 😘