#the date for when they will decide to grant the summary judgment is now on Oct 3 and not mid September

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

It wouldn’t surprise me if Taylor released “Shake It Off (Taylor’s Version)” and announced 1989 (Taylor’s Version) shortly after being granted the summary judgment.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Make It Worth It

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: So many okay; body worship, HEAVY praise, multiple orgasms, oral (f,m receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it <3), creampie, hella petnames, fingering, kinda marking too, oh and cockwarming, a lil bit of a jealousy thing going, vague mentions of injuries

Genre: fluff & smut

Summary: The idea of you going on a date makes your friend confess feelings you didn't know they had

***

Meeting Marc Spector was something you'd consider a total fluke. A mishap with his suit had him limping down the street hardly able to hold himself up. Against... probably your better judgment, you brought him to your apartment- patched him up, got him some food, and let him crash on your couch. He was gone before you woke up in the morning and you honestly expected never to see him again. A couple of weeks later though he popped by to say thank you and introduce himself, you told him he could stop by if he needed help again. You didn't think he'd take you up on the offer but you were fast friends as you became his only confidante. Apparently, the vigilante life is not conducive to friendships, especially when you share your life with another; Steven Grant.

It was a while before Marc told you about Steven and you liked to call him Marc's best kept secret, considering Steven doesn't even know about it. It took even longer for you to meet Steven. Another mishap with Marc's suit had him frantically banging on your balcony door one night. You pulled open the door and he'd practically fallen into your apartment.

"Y/n! Hey!" He groaned.

"Jeez! I thought that stupid bird was meant to protect you Marc!" You crossed your arms.

"Help now, be mad later. Oh! And if I wake up and I'm not me, lie." He barely got the last bit out before he practically fell on you.

"Heavens above you still haven't told him the truth?" You groaned technically to yourself as you shoved a now unconscious Marc onto your couch. Even with him passed out you'd gotten more than enough practice patching him up that you had it so down that you were quick and efficient. He was out for quite some time afterwards, you even made dinner before he suddenly startled awake.

"Who are you? Where am I? What are you doing here?" The unfamiliar British accent immediately told you that night that Steven had woken up instead of Marc.

"Um- this is my apartment so that's where you are, I live here so that's what I'm doing here and my name is y/n. You're Steven right?"

"How did you know my name?" He'd looked at you suspiciously.

"I- I looked at your wallet for ID?" He does have his wallet on him so that lie was totally believable.

"Well why am I here?" 

That was the question you were dreading from the moment Marc passed out on you.

"You were hurt so I brought you here."

"Hurt? Hurt how?"

"I- I didn't see it happen. You were hurt when I got to you." You shrugged. It wasn't technically a lie. You didn't see Marc get hurt. The answer seemed to satisfy Steven at the time but maintaining separate friendships with Marc and Steven wasn't something you wanted to keep up long term. Hence, with some gentle nudging, Marc eventually revealed himself to Steven and you ended up having to help the duo navigate the new dynamic.

However, where you thought Steven was Marc's best kept secret; a new player had him beaten. A secret so well kept Marc didn't even know until after you did. And his name was Jake Lockley. Meeting him had actually happened intentionally on his end. Apparently tired of watching the back and forth between you and his alters he stepped in to meet you himself. You'll admit you and Marc toed the line pretty much since you met, flirting with each other but not obvious enough to change your dynamic, and once Steven got comfortable with you it was only too fun to tease him. So in came Jake; the hidden protector, questioning you and ultimately deciding you were safe for them to be around. He even trusted you enough to facilitate his introduction to the other two. Now you've got the whole trio you can call friends and they often tell you how instrumental they consider you in maintaining stability in their shared life. You really enjoy having them around most of the time even with how chaotic it can be covering for, patching up, and keeping track of their system.

Tonight, while you're finishing your makeup for a date, you hear a knock from the living room. You're not expecting anyone right now so when you leave your room and find Moonknight on your balcony you're not exactly surprised. You open the door and the suit disappears as he walks into your apartment.

"What're you all dressed up for?" Marc asks taking in your outfit.

"Hello to you too Marc." You roll your eyes.

"Hello. What're you all dressed up for?"

"I have a date tonight." You say with a shrug heading back to your room knowing Marc will follow you.

"A date? What date? You didn't tell me about any date."

"I don't have to tell you about dates."

"Why wouldn't you tell me though?"

"It's a first date Marc I'm not getting married. You're making it a much bigger deal than it is."

"It is a huge deal. You haven't been on a date since we met!"

"Thank you for pointing out that Marc yes this is my first date in a while. Did you come here for a reason? Doesn't that bird of yours have errands for you?"

"I always come here when I'm done with Khonshu's stuff. This is why it's a big deal you didn't tell me about this date. It throws off our routine!"

"Marc you coming here to eat my food after running around for skelo-bird is not set in stone."

"It is set in stone. If it wasn't we wouldn't do it every time."

"Well it's still early, so when I finish my date I'll text you and you can come back over and your routine will be fine."

"That's not the same."

"I dunno what to tell you sweetie, I have to leave, I'm meeting this guy in like 10 minutes."

"Don't go."

"Marc!"

"Come ooon I'm way more fun than whoever this random guy is anyway."

"You don't even know him."

"Neither do you. So stay."

"Let me get this straight, you want me to cancel my first date in over a year because it's more important that we watch a movie while you eat leftovers? Call me crazy but I'd personally rank those a little differently."

"I want you to cancel your first date in over a year because I don't want you to go on a date."

"Okay I know we're close but I feel like that's crossing a line a little bit. That's not really up to you."

"Princessa, are you intentionally misunderstanding him?" Jake's sudden appearance only further confuses you.

"No Jake. I genuinely have no idea what the deal is here and at this rate, I'm going to be late so one of you better start talking straight."

"He's jealous. He doesn't want you going on a date with anyone that's not... us, really. None of us do."

"All of this is about a crush? Bring Marc back out here." You roll your eyes.

"Look I did not send Jake out here to speak for me!"

"You are such a dunce." You smack his chest lightly.

"What?!"

"You don't want me to go on this date because you three like me and you couldn't just say that?"

"I dunno I guess I just didn't want to risk what we've already got, as friends." He says sheepishly.

"Say the words."

"What?"

"Say exactly why you don't want me going on this date and I'll cancel."

"I don't want you to go on this date because I have feelings for you. Stay home. I can make it worth it in any way you ask."

"Any way that I ask?"

"I'll worship you like a god if you want me to."

"Won't that make that silly old bird of yours a little jealous?"

"Let him be if he is. All that matters is you not going on this date and me showing you my gratitude."

"Alright, I'll call and cancel the date."

"Don't bother. Who cares if he gets ghosted?"

"First of all, I'm nice so I care; secondly that's the shit that gets women stalked."

"Oh please, as if he'd ever be able to hurt you with us around." Marc scoffs.

"Okay, bodyguard. The call will take less than two minutes and you'll have my attention the rest of the night." You say grabbing your phone and stepping into the living room. You notice Marc following you as you call your date.

"Hello?" 

"Lewis! Hi, I'm sorry to do this so last minute but something has come up and I'm not going to be able to make it to dinner."

"Oh. Is everything alright? Do you need anything?"

"Uh- thanks but I'll be fine! I just gotta take care of a thing and I didn't wanna leave you sitting there waiting."

"Yeah no, thanks for letting me know. We can reschedule."

"Sure! Soon as I get a handle on things I'll reach out to reschedule." You say, ignoring the look Marc gives you.

"Alright no problem. Good luck with your thing." Lewis says before hanging up.

"You aren't actually rescheduling with him, are you?" Marc asks you.

"Probably not." You shrug.

"Probably?!"

"I already canceled the date for you once."

"You making this hard for me on purpose sweetheart?"

"Not at all. Just not sure how things are gonna go." You smile.

"How things are gonna go? I'm gonna show you that canceling that silly date was the right idea and that you don't need anyone other than us."

"Us? Steven and Jake are in on this too?"

"Of course they are."

"Well, that's a big promise Marc, how do you plan to show me all of that?"

"I'm going to start by kissing you. Is that okay?" Marc asks, pulling you towards him with an arm around your waist.

"Absolutely." You say draping your arms over his shoulder. Marc's free hand comes up behind your head as he kisses you hard. You gasp against his lips and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Without warning, Marc lifts you into his arms and easily carries you back to your room, not even phased when you pull away from the kiss to squeal. He tosses you onto your bed and climbs over you with a smile.

"You have no idea how crazy we are about you." Marc breathes out, trailing kisses down to your neck.

"Crazy about me? Is that right?" You ask, a moan punctuating your question as Marc latches onto a particularly sensitive spot to turn purple.

"Completely." He says softly, staring at you so intently you pull him towards you for another kiss to escape the look in his eyes. Marc pulls away to tug your already bunched up dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties as he looks you over. "Fucking hell you're even more gorgeous than I could've imagined." Marc groans.

"You spend a lot of time thinking about me naked darling?" You can't help but chuckle at the thought as you take the moment of silence on his end to pull his shirt over his head and drag your nails down his chest appreciatively.

"I plead the fifth." Marc groans and moves to litter your chest in more patches of red and purple as he reaches under you to unhook your bra. His hands cover your breasts as soon as they're free, palms kneading the flesh while fingers toy with nipples. The sudden onslaught of stimulation has little whimpers falling from your lips that Marc decides he can't get enough of. He pulls one of your nipples between his lips, sucking, nipping, and tonguing at it to test your reactions, discovering all the sounds you make from this alone. "You make such cute little noises." He chuckles switching from one nipple to the other, pulling all the same sounds from you. Eventually, Marc trails his kisses down your stomach, soft and slow, like he has all the time in the world. "So pretty." He whispers. He pulls your panties down your legs, kissing your thighs on the way down and back up. "I'm so going to enjoy this." Marc says before burying his head between your legs. He licks a hard stripe between your folds that makes you moan and his arms wrap around your thighs before you can even squirm. Marc's tongue swirls around your clit as he watches you, testing what pulls the best reaction from you. When a certain rhythm has your fingers tugging at his hair he settles into it, intent on making you cum like that. Whimpers and cries fall from your lips in quick succession as he sucks and laps at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You writhe and grind against him, although his grip on your thighs restricts your movement as he works you quickly towards an orgasm.

"Holy fuck Marc!" You groan, throwing your head back and pulling almost too hard at his curls but the man between your legs only lets out a pleased growl at the action. "Fuck I'm close." You pant out and Marc wraps his lips securely around your clit, sucking harshly until your legs tense and your orgasm crashes into you with a silent scream. Marc doesn't even let you fully ride out the high before his fingers slide into your opening. He curls the two digits just right and you can feel the pull in your abdomen when he brushes the spot inside you. Your back arches into him as he works you open with his fingers, his tongue still lapping at your clit, determined to pull another orgasm from you. Your second orgasm hits you faster than the first your entire body twitching while you let out the prettiest whine Marc's ever heard.

"My goodness." Although the voice is muted in your pleasure fogged brain, you don't miss the accent in his words.

"Steven?!" You blink at him, chest still heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. His eyes are as wide as saucers as he takes in the situation he's just been thrown into.

"Hi. I can't imagine Marc did this on purpose I-" Steven's words trail as his head snaps to the mirror hanging on your closet door. "He did this on purpose." Steven looks at you and then back at the mirror. "Why would you do that Marc?!" You pull his gaze back to you by grabbing his chin,

"Steven, calm down." You say.

"Clearly I've missed a lot because how did you two even end up like this?" Steven asks and your giggle at his confusion quickly turns into a whimper when the action makes you distinctly aware of his fingers still buried inside you. "My god, help me." Steven breathes out at the sound from your lips. "If this was your act of gratitude why am I here?!" Steven asks to the mirror and you suppose Marc told him how you, in his words, ended up like this. Steven makes a face at whatever Marc says next and then turns to you with a look you can only describe as curious. Before you can question it, his fingers inside you move tentatively, making you moan. He's less sure of himself than Marc had been but he watches intently as he slowly strokes your inner walls, enjoying the way you react to him. "You're absolutely breathtaking."

"And you, are simply adorable." You say bringing him down to kiss him. Steven is obviously much more nervous than Marc was and you take the lead in the kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips as you explore his mouth with your tongue. It seems your reactions feed his confidence as his fingers gain speed the longer you kiss him and soon you're moaning too much to actually do it properly.

"I love the sounds you make." Steven sighs. You pull his fingers from you before he can make you cum again and he pouts at you until you guide the fingers between your lips. You suck them clean, enjoying the way Steven takes a shaky breath at the action. You use one hand to undo his jeans and pull them down his legs, pulling his fingers out of his mouth for him to get up and shove them the rest of the way down with his boxers. You lean forward and take Steven into your mouth, swallowing him down as far as you can.

"Oh god." Steven groans and his eyes roll as he tosses his head back. You bob your head up and down his length, swirling your tongue as you go, enjoying the way he moans and shivers.

"I love the sounds you make too darling." You hum dragging your tongue along the vein that runs the underside length of his dick. Steven hisses and you wrap your lips around him again.

"Holy hell you're... really good at this." Steven's praise is breathy and stuttery. You take him all the way into your mouth, feeling him in the back of your throat. Rather suddenly, you feel his fingers in your hair tugging you off of him.

"Now, it was my understanding that we were meant to be showing you gratitude." Your ears perk up hearing the accent change.

"Jake, yeah so I've been told." You hum.

"And yet here you are pleasing Steven instead of him worshiping you." Jake's thumb rubs along your bottom lip.

"Steven is just so much fun to tease." You smile.

"Tease him later princessa, tonight is about you. How lucky we are to have you in our life. How much of an honor it is to kiss you, to touch you, to please you." Jake intentionally speaks slowly, staring at you intently.

"You are... very good with words." You muse.

"Have our actions not supported them?"

"Marc definitely, and Steven- before I got my hands on him, yes. You however haven't done anything but talk." You smirk at him.

"Tell me what you want from me and it's yours. Anything you ask." Jake says.

"In other circumstances that would be... a dangerous promise to make. But tonight, I just want you inside me. I want you to make me cum on your dick."

"With pleasure." Jake pushes you onto your back and tugs your legs to pull you towards him. He wastes no time lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you. Your back immediately arches at the fullness of Jake bottoming out and you can't help but moan. "Fuck you're so wet." He groans dropping his head to your shoulder for a moment. Jake sets a rhythm of sharp thrusts, deep but quick.

"Sh-shit Jake! Feels so good." You whine, dragging your nails down his back. He hisses at the sting and his thrusts pick up speed.

"God y/n you're perfect. So gorgeous. Taking this dick like you were made for us." Jake huffs out. One of his hands reaches between your bodies, finding your clit with ease. You squirm against his ministrations moaning as he drives into you repeatedly. "That's it princessa, moan for me, sounds so nice." He grits out, rubbing circles against your bundle of nerves. You grind against him, trying to bring your orgasm on quicker. "Cum for me sweetheart, let me feel you let go around me. Please mi vida." Jake sweetly kisses you as he practically begs for your orgasm and a few thrusts later you're falling over the edge, nails digging into his back as he watches the way pleasure washes over your face. Once your eyes slowly peel open, Jake tightens his grip on your hips and changes the pace of his thrusts, slowing down now.

"You're gonna cum inside me aren't you Jake?" You ask with a pout specifically to get what you want.

"Mierda." Jake's eyes close for a moment. "Is that what you want princessa?"

"Yes Jake, please."

"I told you I'd give you whatever you ask me for." Jake shifts slightly before picking up the pace of his thrusts, they're sloppier now as he focuses on chasing his own release. "I'll pump you so fucking full, you'll be leaking. Fuck you'll look even prettier dripping like that."

"Please Jake, give it to me. Fill me up baby." You whine, grinding against him. His hips stutter and stop buried inside you and you the warmth of his orgasm inside you makes you moan. Before Jake can twist to lay beside you, you pull him onto you comfortable with the weight of him on you. "Don't move yet, let's just- lay like this for a bit, please." You say.

"Thank fuck you didn't go on that stupid date." Jake mutters and you giggle a little.

"Thank fuck you said something or I would've."

"Well, did we make it worth the stay?" "I'd say so." "Good. After a nap you can discuss the details, probably with Steven, he'll have the most to say." Jake mumbles into your neck.

"I'll have to talk to each of you ya know." You say.

"Sure but start with him. All I have to say is I think you're perfect, and we'd be lucky if you date us."

"You're not the only lucky ones." You say kissing the side of his face. Yeah. It might have been by pure chance that you crossed paths with Marc over a year ago but you're glad the rest of your decisions landed you here. Even if it's not the trajectory you saw that first interaction leading to, definitely worth it.

***

[its-all-stardust]

Sugar || 5

Masterlist || Part Four || Part Six

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

Notes: I'll admit, this chapter isn't my favorite but it works lol. it's mainly here to establish certain things to make it easier for me in the future, so sorry if it's not as good as the others!

You call Steven immediately, but he doesn’t answer. Hanging up without leaving a message, you text him.

Is everything okay? You quickly type. You don’t want to immediately ask why he left. Maybe he was uncomfortable staying the night but didn’t want to say anything.

But then, why did he ask to kiss you again before you left him for the night?

As frustrating as it is for Steven to pull such a vanishing act, it hurts worse. You’re so attached to him already, and the thought that you might have done something to upset him or that he might not want to be around you is crushing.

There’s no immediate response to your text, and you try not to let this minor hiccup affect you. Surely something must have happened for Steven—sweet Steven, who apologizes for not responding to a message within a few minutes—not to have gotten back to you yet.

You’re left standing in the middle of your apartment, lost.

With a shake of your head, you try to put the worst from your mind. For all you know, he could have gotten called into work early and forgot to let you know on his rush out the door. You open your banking app and pay Steven for the night, making sure to deduct whatever you were planning to pay for the pleasure of waking up to him in your home. You also make a mental note to give Steven a firm talking to when you next see each other.

You didn’t hear from Steven for the rest of the weekend.

You’re reminded of one of your babies from a few years ago—the one who ghosted you after one date—and like a parasite, the idea that Steven might have done the same thing latches onto you and refuses to let go.

Monday morning, you’re determined not to let a mere sugar baby distract you—even though you don’t think of Steven as a “mere” anything—and steel yourself for what could be the inevitable end to a short-lived relationship. Steven taking two weeks to talk to you before agreeing to be your baby was one thing. It was another to agree to follow your rules, only to disregard them entirely. If Steven can’t commit to you the way you want him to, or if he decides that this isn’t for him, then you aren’t going to keep him.

It could even be a good thing, you try to convince yourself.

Maybe this could all be a lesson you need to learn about picking babies off the street.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the thought. You’re catastrophizing again. You’re making this personal, a reflection of yourself and your abilities. At the end of the day, Steven is an employee you hired because you thought he could do the job. After seeing some trouble from him, you’re merely reconsidering his position with you.

You ignore how much your stomach roils at the thought of letting him go.

At lunch, your phone vibrates in your purse—where you had tossed it earlier when you couldn’t stop staring at it from its usual place on your desk.

The sound makes you pause, questioning if someone is really calling you.

It might not be Steven, you tell yourself as you slowly, calmly reach into your bag and pull out your phone.

But it is him, and the weight in your stomach eases a little.

You stare at the phone, at Steven’s name on the screen, until it goes dark and stops vibrating. Then, a moment later, a notification pops up, announcing a voicemail.

Still, you wait. It’s only fair, after all.

Immediately, your phone starts buzzing again, Steven’s name displaying again. This time, you answer.

“Steven,” you say, your voice low. Although you’re glad he called and persisted with the voicemail and a second call, you’re still upset with him. He better have a good reason for disappearing.

“I am so sorry,” Steven says after a moment, perhaps registering your tone and knowing how upset you are. “I think…I think something’s wrong with me.”

“Why do you say that?” Despite your confusion, you keep your tone even, neither believing nor disbelieving him until you have more information.

Steven hesitates. “You’ll think I’m mad,” he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.

That’s what hits you: your baby is going through something he’s afraid you’ll reject him for, that you won’t be there for him. And right now, regardless of how you feel, he needs you.

“Steven,” you say, softening your voice and letting a hint of worry peak through. “What’s wrong? Explain it to me.”

“I don’t remember this weekend,” Steven quietly admits, deepening your worry. “I mean, I remember staying at yours, but then suddenly I’m home, standing in the bathroom, and it’s Monday. And I know you’re mad at me, I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what’s going on.” Steven finishes, sounding on the verge of tears if a few haven’t slipped out already.

“Baby, hush,” you soothe. “I’m not mad at you.” Not anymore, though you are…concerned.

“You’re not?” Steven asks, hopeful.

“No, I’m not. But what happened? Are you not feeling well? Did you hit your head?”

You want to ask if he took anything, but hold off. It doesn’t feel like the right time, and it could potentially make him defensive and resistant to help if you do.

“Nothing like that. Mainly tired, like I haven’t slept in days, but nothing else.”

Strange, to say the least.

“Have you gone to the doctor?”

“N-no, I haven’t. I wasn’t sure…Since nothing’s wrong—”

“Steven, you blacked out for an entire day. That’s not normal,” you insist. Steven goes quiet. “Go. For me. I need to know you’re okay.”

“Okay,” he agrees softly.

“You’ll go today,” you order.

“Yes. Today.”

You think for a moment, biting your lip. “You’ll come to my place later. Meet me there when I get off work.”

You don’t know if inviting him back to your place is a good idea. There could genuinely be something wrong with Steven, something happening to him. But there’s also a chance he’s keeping something, some bad habit or another, from you.

You briefly rethink your decision to forgo a background check on him, but even still, you don’t make plans to follow through with it.

Despite the warning signs, you still want to see him, need to see him. You need to know he’s okay and be there for him. It takes everything in you not to go and be with him now, your anger forgotten and your worry about what he may have gotten himself into ignored.

He’s yours, and you want to take care of him. It’s almost as if, in the short time you’ve known him, he’s done something to you.

“I’ll be there,” Steven says, sounding more sure than anything else he’s said so far. “I…I need to see you.”

You try to ignore the warmth that floods through you.

Steven looks lost as he stands outside your door. He hesitates when he sees you, unsure whether to go to you or wait for you to reach him and unlock the door.

He looks tired, like he indeed hasn’t slept since he was here on Saturday, and his clothes are disheveled, more so than usual. You’ve yet to hear what happened to him over the weekend, what caused his blackout, but you already have a half-formed plan to keep him here tonight and put him to bed as soon as possible.

When you get close, you say his name softly and hold out your arms.

Steven looks relieved as he steps into you, his arms tucking under yours as he buries his face in your neck. He melts into you, and the two of you stand outside your door, each drawing some comfort from the other.

One of your hands goes to his head, threading your fingers through his curl and holding him tight. You kiss the side of his head and wait, letting him hold onto you for as long as he needs.

He clings to you so desperately it makes you wonder if he has anyone else.

Why is it that you, his sugar mommy, are the first person he came to? Regardless of your feelings toward him, surely he has family or friends he could turn to in a moment like this.

You don’t recall him mentioning anyone, except his mother, off-handedly. From how he made it sound, you don’t think she’s even in London.

Maybe you’re all he has.

The thought makes you cling to him as much as he is to you. With Steven in your arms, it’s easy to decide that no matter what’s wrong, you’ll help him. Maybe it’s something where it wouldn’t be right for him to keep being your sugar baby, but you won’t abandon him.

When Steven shows no sign of letting you go, you whisper, “Let’s go inside.”

He reluctantly pulls away and nods, though his hand quickly finds yours.

Once you’re through the door, you kick off your shoes and lead Steven to the couch. You’re a little surprised he doesn’t immediately curl up to your side, but he seems to realize the two of you still need to talk. And whatever he has to say must be serious.

“Did you go to the doctor like I said?” you ask when Steven doesn’t speak.

Instead, he deflates, falling back against the couch, tossing his head back, and staring up at the vaulted ceiling.

“She’s as stumped as I am, I think. Couldn’t find anything without running tests and…” he trails off, sounding defeated.

“And?” you prompt, squeezing his hand. He still hasn’t let go.

“She said it could just be sleepwalking or something like that. But for a whole day?” Steven lifts his head up, staring at you in confusion. “How can I have been asleep for a whole day? Not to mention getting from your flat to mine. Ugh, and then Donna.” Steven falls back and rubs his free hand down his face.

You had forgotten he was scheduled to work today. “You went in?”

“I was supposed to. Supposed to be there at nine, but came to staring at myself in the bathroom mirror with my phone ringing in the other room.”

“I take it Donna didn’t handle your absence well.”

“Oh, perfectly well, actually, if you don’t count the, you know, yelling and threatening to fire me. Had to tell her it was an emergency and promise that it won’t happen again to get her to stop. I don’t think she even believed me.”

You can practically see the weight of it all resting on Steven’s shoulders. Waking up after a blackout, knowing something is wrong, and then having your manager chewing you out immediately after? It would be horrible.

“Oh, Steven,” you soothe, pulling him to you so you can hug him again. “What about those tests the doctor mentioned? Are you going to take them? I could pull some strings and get you in to see a specialist sooner.”

“You don’t have to,” Steven insists as he wraps his arms around your waist. “There’s a chance it’s nothing… Just wait and see and hope it doesn’t happen again.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep from arguing. You’ve never had to worry about a baby’s health before, and you’re not sure if insisting that he seek treatment goes beyond the bounds you set for the relationship or if Steven would even appreciate you inserting yourself into that part of his life. You don’t want to tell him what to do regarding certain aspects of his personal life, but you still worry.

“Did you tell your family about what happened?” you ask instead. If you can’t tell him what to do about his health, maybe they can.

“It’s just my mum,” Steven says quietly, as if unsure what he wants to tell you. “I left her a message. She’s always traveling, so it’s hard to catch her. She’ll listen to it when she can, though. She always does.”

Something about his tone is slightly off, making you wonder who he’s trying to convince.

“Can we just…go back to normal?” Steven asks, sounding exhausted. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Normal, huh?” you concede, running your fingers through his hair. You’ll play everything by ear for now, and Steven seems well enough that you’re willing to drop the topic for tonight.

“Please?” he mumbles into your neck.

“Well, it just so happens that I got something in the mail for you today.”

Steven lifts his head, brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

You start pulling away, preparing to stand. “I’m going to need you to sound more enthusiastic than that, baby,” you say, kissing Steven’s cheek.

“Right, sorry,” he says, his face flushing like he’s already forgotten your roles. “I love it already. Thank you.”

You can’t help but laugh as you walk over to the front door where you left your bag. Grabbing the card you had safely tucked away earlier when it arrived at the office, you walk back to the living room and stand directly in front of Steven.

You flash the card at him, showing off his name and making Steven’s eyes widen in surprise.

“There’s no limit; you can use it to buy anything and everything. It’s already activated, and I have notifications set up on my phone, so I’ll know when you use it.” Your eyes narrow as you watch Steven visibly swallow, nervous. “And when you don’t.”

“I-I…” Steven stammers but doesn’t quite finish whatever he’s trying to get out.

You watch him closely, looking for any sign that he isn’t interested in this kind of play, the slightest hint that he’s uncomfortable.

Something dark shifts across his features then, twisting his expression toward a scowl. But then it’s gone in an instant, Steven’s expression returning to what it was, his soft brown eyes so trusting. You have no idea what to make of it.

Though it leaves you confused, you decide to continue but are mindful of any other signs that you’ll need to stop what you’re doing. What you have in mind isn’t intense, but some of your babies found it degrading and didn’t like doing it.

“Tell me why I should give you this card,” you say.

Steven shakes his head automatically. “I don’t deserve it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “No? But aren’t you doing this for the money? And all the other things I can give you?”

He looks away briefly before meeting your eyes again. Even though he’s hesitating, nothing about him says he doesn’t want to be doing this.

“Yes? But you already—”

“Steven.” His mouth snaps shut at your tone. “Repeat after me: I deserve an unlimited credit card.”

He flushes again and mumbles, “I deserve an unlimited credit card.”

“Louder.”

Steven repeats himself, only slightly louder than the first time.

“Again,” you order, still not satisfied.

When Steven repeats the words this time, he does so at a normal speaking volume—not too loud, but perfect for you.

“Good boy,” you praise, reaching out to hold his face with your free hand. You can tell this was hard for Steven, and you hope, one day, asking for the things he wants will be easier for him.

Steven closes his eyes with a contented sigh and nuzzles your palm. You can’t help but smile adoringly at him.

“Do you know why you deserve it?” you ask, keeping your voice low, soft.

He opens his eyes and shakes his head slightly, careful not to knock your hand away. “Because you’re my baby, and you’re special. Say it.”

Steven lets out a shaky breath against your palm. “Because I’m yours, and I’m special.” He doesn’t mumble or stumble over the words. His voice is clear and even, making you let out a pleased hum. You’re a little proud of him.

“Since you want it so much, beg for the card,” you say, watching him carefully.

Steven seems a little taken aback, and you drop your hand from his face.

“You can always say no,” you remind him. “This doesn’t have to be something we do. No hard feelings.”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, you take a step back and go to hand him the card. He’s done so well already, and you won’t push him into something he doesn’t want to do. Just because he’s your sugar baby doesn’t mean he’s a toy to toss around as you please.

But then Steven’s hands are on your hips, holding you in place.

“Please,” he whispers, staring up at you beseechingly from his place on the couch. Your heart starts to pound, elated.

“Please, what? What do you want?” You need him to say the words; you need to know that he wants to do this, too.

“Please give me the card,” he says, his voice still so quiet.

“You don’t sound like you want it bad enough.”

Steven shifts on the couch, moving close to the edge. His hands on your hips tighten ever so slightly. He licks his lips and says, “Please, can I have it? I promise I’ll use it. I’ll-I’ll buy so much stuff. Please?” He sounds happy to play along but isn’t sure quite what to say. You’re pleased, though, that he’s trying.

“Please what?” you prompt, hoping he’ll get the message, that he’ll like that part of the relationship too.

Steven stares at you for a moment. Then, “Please, mummy,” said in a breathless whisper.

Smiling brightly at him, you lean down and kiss him. Steven eagerly returns it, gripping your hips tighter and trying to pull you closer even though his head is already tilted back at a slightly awkward angle.

“You did so well, baby,” you say when you pull away. During the kiss, your hand somehow found its way into Steven’s hair, gripping it just enough to move his head how you wanted. You slide your hand back down to his cheek, brushing your thumb against the flush you find there. His pupils are blown wide, and his mouth is slightly open as he lets out shallow pants.

Standing up straight, you hold the credit card out for Steven. “Buy whatever you want, and you’re not getting off this couch until you do.”

“Right now?” Steven asks, sounding a little dazed. He reluctantly releases your hips to take the card, allowing you to sit beside him.

“Yes, right now. Pull out your phone.” You settle in against his side, throwing an arm on the back of the couch, around his shoulders when he settles back, so you can hover over him. “Do you want one of those giant TVs? A gaming system or a computer? What about getting the fixings for a saltwater tank and getting Gus an exotic friend?”

“I… don’t know,” Steven says, taking his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. He still seems overwhelmed by the whole idea of having such an outrageous amount of money to spend. You affectionately brush one of his curls away from his face.

“Don’t worry, we have all night to figure it out.”

Series taglist: @multific @uncle-eggy @kezibear @local-mr-frog @peachyrue-777 @kpopslur @tejasvkris @thewinterv

if you can’t be tagged, check your privacy settings

[ailtrahq]

In August, the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) filed an interlocutory appeal against Judge Torres’ ruling in favor of Ripple Labs. In response, the Crypto firm has now filed its reply in opposition to the SEC’s request for an appeal.  Ripple And Its Executives Object To Appeal According to the court filing dated September 1, Ripple stated that the SEC doesn’t have the right to an appeal as the “exceptional circumstances” required for it are absent.  The SEC had earlier argued that an appeal was necessary because it involved controlling questions of law. The regulator also cited how Judge Torres’ ruling could affect its case against Terraform, Coinbase, and Binance.  However, according to Ripple, the summary judgment doesn’t present a controlling question of law to warrant an appeal. The company noted that a pure question of law only arises when it is one that the court can review and decide quickly without having to study the record. In this case, the appellate court will have to study the record before deciding, just like Judge Torres did.  Another ground for an interlocutory appeal being granted is whether or not an immediate appeal would ultimately ensure that the case is finalized quickly. In proving that the SEC had not satisfied this ground, Ripple stated that the Commission had shown it intended to continue its lawsuit against it even if the latter succeeded in its appeal. As such, the appeal should be rejected since it wouldn’t hasten the lawsuit.  The SEC had earlier asked that Judge Torres’ ruling be stayed pending the determination of the appeal. So Ripple also asked that the court deny the SEC’s request for a stay as the regulator had not met the standard for one.  XRP price trending at $0.5059 | Source: XRPUSDT on Tradingview.com Focus Of The Appeal Although the court approved the SEC’s request to file an interlocutory appeal, the appeal could still be denied. If approved, however, the main focus will be on Judge Torres’ ruling that Ripple’s programmatic sales and other distributions didn’t constitute an Investment contract. The court’s ruling on the programmatic sales could have a huge impact on the Crypto industry going forward. Programmatic sales include ones made through exchanges. So, if the SEC gets a ruling in its favor, it would provide it with much-needed momentum to further its case against Coinbase and Binance, where it is alleging that both exchanges offered securities.  However, some experts expect that the SEC will again lose upon appeal as the court will have recourse to the evidence adduced in the lower court and will decide that the SEC didn’t provide enough proof to back its arguments. Source

[lovelyiida2]

SUMMARY: in attempt to satisfy all your expectations for your first date, Deku forgets what truly mattered, you.

WARNINGS: slight-vulgar language, asshole deku, angst

MASTERLIST

WORDS: 1.57K

—

Weeks became days, days became hours, hours became minutes, and minutes became seconds.

Your feet swinging gently in the air as you wait patiently for the arrival of Deku. It was your first date as a couple and to say you were excited was an understatement.

It’s rare that you dress up so nicely, of course your boyfriend told you to since it was a “special occasion.”

Looking at the kitchen clock you smile, 7:53 PM, he should be here any minute now.

So you sat and waited, seconds became minutes, and minutes became hours…

Maybe there was traffic? He doesn’t drive.

Maybe his mom needed some last minute help? He told you his mom wouldn’t be home for the next couple of days.

Maybe he’s dead? He’s fully capable of protecting himself.

Sighing you look at the clock once more, 8:30PM, you’re eyebrows furrowed. Tracing empty patterns into the dining the table you pick up your phone and decide to call him.

The phone rings and rings, then flatlines. Smacking your lips together you call again, a few seconds go by to then hear your doorbell.

Jumping at the loud noise you jog to your door and open it.

“Deku, why are you so late?” You ask, “I was worried about you!” You exclaimed. Not answering your question, he takes out a bouquet of flowers. A soft gasp escapes from your lips as you take the bouquet.

Smiling, you grant him a kiss on the cheek, “this still doesn’t explain why’re so late.”

“Didn’t know I was dating a nagging Nancy.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, in shock at his unexpected remark.

He chuckles and grabs your hand, you shrug off his ride remark and close the door and walk out. Still not getting the answer you wanted as to why he was so late, you asked yourself why he was acting so not like himself…

Walking around in the cold, dark, December evening, you cuddle into Deku’s arm. Only to be met with a shrug.

“Hey, this is a brand new jacket, gotta look good for you right?” He says, which makes your frown. “Baby I’m cold–“

“You’ll live, this isn’t your first December rodeo.”

Face visible with hurt you speak up, “you still haven’t explained to me why the hell you were so late Deku, what the hell has gotten into you?” Voice sharp with irritancy, he just shrugs.

“Why should you care?” Your eyes widen.

“What the fuck do you mean why shouldn’t I care?–“

Pulling his finger in front of your lips he points into the air, groaning you look over to see where he was pointing. A restaurant, this is probably why he wanted you to dress so nice.

“We’re here,” holding you by your waist you walk into the restaurant, you blush at his outwardly actions. You would’ve liked this way more if he wasn’t being a complete baboon.

The warm air of the restaurant pleasantly smacks the both of you in the face, the warm and sultry aroma of food and alcohol floods into your nose.

Looking around you notice how everyone looks so fancy, wearing their black and white suits and dresses. Sipping from their large glasses with an obscenely small amount of wine, something you never understood—maybe it comes with age?

Then you look at your clothes, god, a pink skirt with sparkly tights? You zip up your winter coat higher in embarrassment.

When Deku said dress nice, you didn’t know he meant “fancy dinner date” nice, you thought he meant “nice walk around the city and maybe a cafe or two” nice.

Walking closer to the register, you see the waiter eye the both of you down. “You must have a reserved table to dine here, there’s a local ramen diner not too far from here. Frowning you look down at your feet to avoid his cold and judgmental gaze.

You then hear a scoff, “Reserved booth for two under the name, Midoriya.” He spoke out, the waiter eyes him and looks into his computer. Clearing his throat he grabs two menu’s and bows.

“My apologies, please come this way.”

Looking at Deku you chuckle in relief. He grabs you by your waist again and walks you to your booth. The waiter then seats the both of you down and gives you your menu’s, bowing again he leaves without another word.

The dim light cascades over the two of you, your back relaxes into the velvet red seats. You look out of the wide window into the snowy night of Japan.

Sighing you open the menu, just to close it again.

Steak 1200¥ per pound? Wine nearly as much as the damn steak, not one chicken finger option in sight. You laugh at Deku.

“I’m sorry, who’s paying for this?” You laugh. Deku frowns, pulling something from his pocket he slams down two 2000¥ bills. “I am,” you look at him in shock.

“Wh-where did you even get that money from? Did you recently get a job or something?” You asked. “Why do you ask so many questions?”

“And why aren’t you answering them?” You snap back. You let out a chuckle in disbelief, “I mean—first you show up late, leave me freezing cold, bring to some expensive restaurant with some random flashy ass money! I have all the right to be asking questions.” You whispered in anger, Deku just rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

“The hell do you mean whatever? Deku you get all dressed in a tuxedo whilst you have me dressed like I’m going to a hatsune miku concert! Give me a little heads up next time maybe?”

“I think you look nice”

“Did you not just hear me?”

“And didn’t I say you look nice?”

“Why are you acting like this!” You yelled, heads turned at your outburst. Cursing to yourself you take your menu and block your face. “Are you okay? Are you mad at me or something? Because you’ve been acting weird since you picked me up?” You say.

“Can you reel it in? I’m doing fine.” There it is again, that tone.

You sigh at his words, “y’know I didn’t ask to be brought here you know that? So you can drop this little act you’re putting on right now.”

“I don’t understand why you’re acting the way you’re acting, you could be a bit more grateful I was able to reserve a table for us.”

“G-grateful? Deku I didn’t ask to take me here!” You exclaimed.

“And I didn’t ask for you to be my girlfriend, yet here we are!” He yelled back. Eyes widening, the menu slips from you hand and slams to the ground.

“What?” Eyes swelling with tears, your breath hitches as your voice becomes stagnant. Deku eyes widen along with yours.

“Y/n, I-I didn’t mean to say that–“

Grabbing a small box from your coat pocket, you slam the box down. Deku looks at the small light purple box, it looks like you wrapped it yourself. With small writing “to deku <3” written on the tag.

“Then I won’t be, have a nice night asshole,” trying to keep yourself together you break down into tears and leave out the restaurant.

Thinking fast, Deku followed suit. Your small steps turning into a fast run as you hear your name echoing from behind you. Tears pouring as you gasp for another cold breath.

Reaching your house you rush to open your door, hearing the fast crunches of snow behind you only makes you go faster, before you could enter into your home, Deku slams the door back shut.

“Y/n, I’m sorry–“

“It’s too late for that now, I could tell you meant what you said back there.” You cried, only making him feel even more guilty. “But I didn’t–“

“But you fucking did! Or at least I can’t tell, not with that infinite stick up your ass, what the hell has gotten into you Deku?” You scream.

“Because–“

“Because what?” You growled.

“I wanted everything to be perfect for you! I asked all the guys what I should do and how I should act, I was too nervous. So I thought if I acted more cool you would like it more!” He says.

Eyes still demanding answers, you speak. “That still doesn’t give the excuse as you why you were late–“

“I was going to be on time but…I tripped and accidentally threw the original bouquet I got you into a puddle of mud, so I walked all the way back home and went back to get a new bouquet!”

“Y/n, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was so caught up in this façade I was trying to impose onto you. Knowing that I could hurt you just so I could look more impressive, I’m sorry.” Deku crashes to the ground on his hands and knees and bows, in shock you crash down to the ground and bring him to your level.

“Deku, I never cared about to fancy clothes and dinners at some extravagant restaurant. All I wanted was us to be happy and be ourselves for our first date, I couldn’t have you any other way.” You cried, caressing his face you lean in and give him a peck on the lips.

“Don’t you ever get dating advice from your friends again.”

Deku chuckles and leans into your embrace,

“Okay, I won’t.”

You smile at his response,

“Asshole”

HELLO EVERYONE!!! I’m officially on winter break which means I will be more active on here! Make sure if you have any requests you can fill them out in my ask box!

— hobieshope

[nctsworld]

spin me right ‘round

✩‌ johnny ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ record store owner!johnny | fluff | smut | 4k‌ ‌

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ buying from the local records shop leads you to eventually bed the hot owner on the night of your first date.   WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut (in the second half), oral s*x (f and m receiving), f*ngering, johnny has a big d*ck and f*cks you hard???, office s*x in the epilogue (kind of) RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ @sehunniepot​ (thought you might be interested in this nikki 👀) 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit! 

Opening the store’s door, the ringing of the bell above you signals your entrance. 

You moved into the neighbourhood recently and since someone gifted you a record player for your last birthday, you thought it’d be a quaint idea to drop by the local records shop that you always pass by on your way home.  

Rows and rows of vinyl records, organized both alphabetically and by genre, welcome you with open arms, along with a faint musty smell, likely due to the faded, vintage records hanging between the posters on the cream walls. 

The outside of the store is misleading to its size; there’s enough space here for at least thirty people easily. However, besides you, it looks like there’s only one other customer in the shop.  

Although your surroundings captivate your senses, the striking blond man bent over the rock section in the middle of the shop is the true cynosure of your eyes. 

His long fingers flutter seamlessly over the records, seeming to be on a dedicated search to find one in particular. He towers high over the low stacks and oozes coolness with a thumb stuffed in his front pocket and donning a stylish green beanie atop his medium cut locks. 

Not to mention that his jeans tug perfectly over the curvature of his prominent ass, but you merely steal a glance or two at his backside as you stroll towards the pop section. 

Okay, maybe three glances.

With your back facing the man, several minutes pass as you rummage through the sea of mainstream music, ranging from recent to old, but all the while pleasing to your tastes.  

“See anything you like?” 

Your eyes meet the figure standing nearby with a hand on the edge of one of the stack dividers. His smooth voice matches his strong aura and his gorgeous face, which you’re now blessed to be viewing up-close. 

Your gaze pursues downward, soaking up his sturdy frame hidden behind his flattering clothes. Darting your eyes up his lengthy body back to his face, you lick your lips and swallow, in hopes to dampen the sudden dryness in your throat, and naturally raise the corners of your mouth.        

“Yeah—” You, you think in the back of your head and execute a nod, “—there are a few things.” 

He smiles endearingly towards the floor before glancing back up to you. You wonder if he can read your thoughts, or maybe it’s simply written all over your face.

Releasing his grip, he says, “Take all the time you need. If you need any assistance, let me know." 

Your eyebrows perk up in realization. “Do you work here?”

“Yeah.” Bobbing his head, he runs a hand over his beanie. “I’m the owner of the store.”

“Oh, wow,” you exclaim, jaw hanging slightly. “You’re so young, I wouldn’t think someone in their 20s would have their own store, especially one like this." 

A frown falls over his face, and in that moment, you knew you fucked up any chance you had with him.  

“Yeah, 26 to be exact,” he shrugs, tight-lipped, prior to the folding of his arms. His eyes become slits of bitterness. “Thanks for the ageism."

Immediately shaking your head at the misunderstanding, you stammer, “I didn't mean it like that—"

The owner’s expression melts in an instant and a warmness emanates from him once more. The knot in your chest loosens at the sight and relief waves over.  

“I'm just playing with you, don’t worry." 

He opens his mouth, about to continue, but his attention is interrupted by the ringing at the door, and you turn to see another customer over your shoulder. The attractive individual begins to stroll over, but still faces your direction, beaming. 

“Well, if you decide to get anything, you know where to find me, and I'll ring it up for you." 

With puffed cheeks, you nod and watch him greet the incoming patron. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind you, you shift toward the records again and browse for a little longer. 

Finally deciding on a few choices, you walk toward the front register and peer over at the beanied blond. In the classical section, he’s listening intently to the bumbling customer. Not wanting to disturb them, you lay the vinyls on the counter and thankfully find a pen and a stack of sticky notes upon it. 

After sticking the following note on the top vinyl cover, you head out of the store:

“Put these on hold for me?  I'll be back for them.  Thanks!  -Miss Ageist” 

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Judgmental."

A couple of days later, you drop by the store again and find the spirited owner at the front counter. Today, he’s channeling his inner grunge style, adorning a half-up, half-down ponytail and a loose white t-shirt over a tight, long black sleeve shirt. Is it possible for him to look even cuter than he did last time? 

“Sorry again for that,” you scrunch your nose at the memory. He grabs your records from beneath the counter and rings them through. “You just look so young to own a store.”

The blond airily laughs, “I'm gonna take that as a compliment." 

He spots you twisting your mouth to one side and nodding shyly. “It is." 

As you pay for the items, he gestures to your vinyls on the counter. “Good choices, by the way.”

“Are there bad ones?” From the pay pad, you glance up at him and he’s feigning a hurt look. 

“Oh, most definitely.” 

You banter with a tilt of your head, “Isn't music subjective though?” 

“Not to me. I am the king of music taste." 

Both parties exchange laughter while you wait for the transaction to process. Once it finishes, he rips the receipt and places it into the bag with the records. 

“I mean, I do own a records store, so I think I should know." 

Flashing you his pearly whites, he hands the filled bag over to you. 

“Here you go, Miss Judgy Pants.” 

“Actually, you can call me—” You properly introduce yourself.

He leans back a little, straightening himself and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. 

“I'm John, but you can call me Johnny." 

With a glimmer in your eye, you question, “Is Johnny exclusive to me, or does everyone else also call you Johnny?”

His eyebrows raise, impressed by your straightforwardness. “I only let the pretty girls call me Johnny, if that’s what you’re asking.”  

The wink he gives is short-lived, but it’s enough to cause heat to blossom over your cheeks. You brush some hair behind your ear. 

“So, Johnny,” you enunciate, indulging in his name. “When does the store close?” 

You lift up your bag and cheekily add, “Gotta know when to break in to steal more vinyls." 

Johnny chuckles, and your heart bursts knowing you’re the reason behind it. Looking aside, his hand rubs the counter casually and you can’t help but stare at his large palm dominating the surface, along with his elongated fingers. Eyes blinking rapidly, you attempt to break the fantasy assembling in your brain—his hands are the guest stars alongside (and within) your body in the leading role. 

“I can close whenever I want to, but thanks for the heads up; I'll make sure to keep you away from the store,” he jokes.  

Catching your gaze, one of the sides of his mouth lifts. “Why do you ask?” 

Shrugging nonchalantly as you play with the handles of your dangling plastic bag, you reply, “Just wanted to know when the cute worker got off so I can potentially go on a date with him.” 

You scan around as if someone else is there in the empty store besides the two of you and point your thumb to one side, whispering teasingly, “Not you, but the other guy.” 

His tongue grazes against his bottom teeth, nodding understandingly with a deeper smirk. “The store closes at nine usually, but I can make an exception for him to get off earlier." 

Satisfied with Johnny’s answer, you bounce your head and make your way backwards toward the door.

“Sounds good, I'll be here at eight for him tomorrow night. Maybe I'll see you around then, too.” 

Granting him a wink of your own, you turn on your heels and leave. Intrigued, Johnny watches you disappear down the street through the store window. 

At 7:58 the next evening, you show up to the store. 

A customer is at the front counter finishing a purchase. As they pay for the products, the worker takes notice of you, smiling in recognition. You return the same, beaming back at him, and casually stride over to a random section to wait until they’re done. They make some small talk, so you delve in the opportunity to admire Johnny’s outfit for tonight—a tight black t-shirt that showcases his blatant pecs and a loose red plaid shirt overtop of it. 

When the customer exits, you make your way over to him as he puts on a light jacket. You lean your elbows onto the counter. 

“Surprised to see you here.” 

“Likewise," he jests back, snaking out of the counter to be in front of you. You glance at him, consuming the tall drink of water.   

Nodding to the door, you ask, “Ready to blow this popsicle stand?” 

Johnny hums affirmatively and you follow behind him outside as he flips the open sign and locks up the store.

“So, where we heading off to?” 

Informing him of what you had in mind, the two of you decide to take his car to the downtown pier. Once there, both of you grab take-out and eat together at a bench table under the clear sky and dazzling stars. Conversation comes easy, making the night fly by fast. 

While talking with him, since his hair flows freely today, he sometimes shyly brushes some of it behind his ear. Although you’re listening intently, you also ponder how it’d be if you ran your fingers through his soft, silky locks. 

Dinner eases into dessert, with the two of you having ice cream side by side on the pier railing, looking out towards the twinkling water. By the time you’re halfway finished with your cone, you hint at not wanting to end the night just yet. Agreeing with your sentiments, Johnny makes the suggestion of going back to the store. 

After finishing the ice cream, you head together back to his car. The back of your hand brushes up against his. Taking a chance, you curl the tips of your fingers around his, half-holding his hand.  

Pressing up against his arm, you whisper, “Thought you said you gotta keep me away from the store."  

He peers down at the partial hand holding and the grin he gives you reaches his eyes. He gives your hand a small squeeze, ensuring the burgeoning attraction is mutual. 

He whispers in reply, “At least this way I can keep an eye on you." 

At the shop, Johnny locks the door from inside, in case of any wandering bodies, and blasts some upbeat, electronic music onto the store speakers. Intercepting your hand, he guides you to the back corner of the store and starts to dance with you. 

At first, your bodies are separate vessels, grooving to the beat of the music, but as the songs play on, you gradually gravitate towards each other. Soon enough, one hand settles comfortably upon your waist, the other on your hip, while yours are hooked around the nape of his neck. Before you know it, you merge together as one with parted lips, finally satisfying the tension in the air and within your bodies.       

The kissing is intense, electrically charged and sending currents to the tips of your fingers. Although you’re barely acquainted, you two kiss like you’ve been deprived of each other your whole life—every kiss and every touch quenching your thirst for one another.  

Wanting to change it up, you step over to an empty counter and hop onto it. Johnny steps in the space between your legs and his lips meet yours again. You cup his face, clutching onto his strong features, and occasionally run a hand through his hair to caress his head. 

You answer inwardly to your previous thoughts, confirming the silky texture of his hair, and your touch relishes in his golden locks.  

Suddenly, his mouth channels hunger onto your neck and the electric currents divert directly to your rising arousal. At the sensation, you rashly grind your hips into Johnny’s body, and he groans heavily in the crook of your neck.  

He mumbles into your skin, “Do you wanna take this further? My place is nearby." 

Sighing further into his embrace, you half-jokingly reply, “You know, I was really looking forward to getting fucked in a records store." 

He easily breathes, “We can do that next time, I promise." 

You snicker. “Aren’t you a little presumptuous?” 

Tugging his shirt by the neckline, you force him to leave your neck and to greet your mouth instead. Pressing the top of your forehead against his, you match his gaze.   

“And what if I don't like you after tonight?”  

Something in you already knows that won’t be true, but you mischievously ask regardless. 

The simper Johnny flickers is enough to send another wave of bolts downward to your core. 

He peels his head away to bring it beside your ear. His thumb on your thigh may be gently rubbing you, but his following assurance is hoarse, absolutely drenched in pure lust.  

“Oh, you're definitely going to like me after all the things I do to you tonight." 

You barely have an opportunity to scan around his bachelor pad because his lips capture yours upon arrival. In his entryway, Johnny entangles with you, pushing you up against the wall. Impatiently, he drags you to his bedroom for the long-awaited spectacle of the night. 

After hurrying to turn on his bedside lamp, Johnny presses his weight against yours on his bed, embracing the full body contact. His lips continue to attack the terrain of your skin as he denudes you. You hum softly as he pursues south to your aching desire. Hoisting your backside and with his assistance, you’re finally completely bare. 

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, Johnny pulls his top layers off, revealing a sculpted physique, the kind that artists muse and obsess over. You knew he was fit from how his clothes constantly hugged his body, but this was just insane. 

“Holy fuck,” you murmur, staring blankly. 

Chuckling, he does the same bashful gesture from dinner—tucking some of his hair behind his ear. The gentleness is a contrast that nicely compliments his Adonis qualities. His soft side is flipped onto its backside in a second as he begins to creep his way over between your legs, his eyes darkening. 

Upon resting on his chest, you didn’t notice it before, but there’s a hair tie on his wrist, which he uses to effortlessly make himself a quick ponytail. 

With anticipation, you sigh into the kisses he leaves on your inner thigh, making his way toward your pulsing sex. When his tongue issues the first swipe, you inhale sharply with fluttering eyes. Johnny isn’t in a rush, taking his sweet time to lazily lap up your slick and learning what incites you.           

Once he has a better understanding of your desire, he dives in and devours you whole. 

Realization sweeps over as to why he has to put his hair up.

In accompaniment to the painting of your folds, Johnny spreads them gently and ensures he dunks his tongue in your wetness. One of your hands drift away from the bed sheets to one of his snaked around your upper thigh, clutching onto his fingertips in reaction to the swift rotational swirls on your raw flesh.   

He draws back, lips lustrous from your nectar, and hastily replaces his mouth with two fingers.

Your half-lidded eyes shoot wide open. His long, thick fingers fill you greatly, scissor you so far in your sex, so much that you fear what his cock is like if this is how his digits feel. 

You’re overcome with bursts of pleasure. Further bursts ensue as Johnny tongues your clit alongside the fingering. Your throaty cries and the squelches of your pussy is melodious to his ears, better than playing his favourite vinyls on the best record player he owns. The lewdness of it all overwhelms his jean-bound arousal, so Johnny retaliates by grinding against the bed.  

After Johnny retreats, he stands by the foot of the bed and starts unbuckling his belt and pants. You crawl your way over, still panting and reeling from the rush of your high. As you reach him, he drags his pants and boxer-briefs towards the floor in one-go, freeing his unsurprising lengthy girth.    

On your knees, hunched over his cock, you chuckle in disbelief. “Now that’s unfair.” 

He watches in amusement as you examine his desire with delight, before taking it into your hand, pumping it languidly. “What is?” 

You peer up, cocking an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re hot, own a record store, really funny, and you’re packing. God really has his favourites.” 

Johnny’s about to respond, but his brain short-circuits momentarily at the pad of your thumb rubbing his precome over the tip of his blunt head. He cranes his neck back, exhaling a groan. 

“Well, what can I say? Guess I’m just-fuck—” 

You suck the words out of him. Literally. 

Your warm embrace encompasses his entirety, possessing a strong hold over him. Since you can’t possibly take him fully into your mouth, your fist solves your problem by stroking him by the base. Aiming to please, especially after his oral act from earlier, you slurp and bob your head mercilessly, disregarding the saliva leaking down the sides of your mouth. 

One of Johnny’s hands arranges your hair in a make-shift ponytail to get a clearer view of the obscene display. His hazy eyes skim over the gorgeous curves of your bent back and ass jutting high up in the air. His breathing turns heavier and he’s about to tug on your hair, motioning for you to slow down, but you thankfully come up for air just in time. 

The stately figure attacks your lips with urgency. The kiss is wet and messy from going down on one another, but it merely adds to the intensity. While lip-locked, he lowers you into his pillow once more, then stretches an arm out to his bedside stand to fish out a condom. 

He nimbly rolls on the cover, but is confused to find you back on your knees instead of laying on the bed. You grasp him by the wrist and press your fingers against his firm pecs, indicating to him to recline backward. In awe, he obediently obliges. 

Hovering over him, you suck in a breath as you line your sex up with his, cognizant that you need to acclimatize to his size. You steadily sit onto his length and when it finally reaches the end, you release a piercing groan at the deep sensation.

For a bit, you don’t move too much to get used to his great desire. In the meantime, your fingers wander over the chiseled flesh in front of you—his defined, veiny arms; his solid chest; and the valleys of his abs. 

Once you think it’s been enough, you transfer more weight onto your knees and slide on his cock with more vigor. You throw your head back in pleasure. 

On the other end, Johnny’s gaze wavers between the main action, your bouncing breasts, and your supple neck. He can’t see your face clearly, but he knows you must be enjoying this as much as him by the breathy moans that follow each thrust.    

When your legs start to tire, Johnny tries to hold you close and roll you over onto your backside. You both giggle at the unsuccessful attempt to keep himself still inside of you, but that’s an easy fix. Despite just having him within you, you gasp again at the penetration. Him being on top hits you at a different angle and you truly feel the length of his inches. 

Johnny reaches down to meet your lips. You brush your fingers over his pulled back hair as he consumes your existence. In addition to each passing drive of his body into yours, you also grip harder onto his hair in ecstasy, which leads to the unraveling of his long locks upon your face. The gold ocean of silkiness drowns your senses, the strands stroking your skin like extra caresses. 

Retreating back onto his knees and raking a hand through his tousled mane, his hands then attach to the flanks of your body and he pounds you breathless, leaving you heaving for air. 

In your dazed state, you desperately grab on to whatever you can—the sheets, his upper frame, his ass, anything. Throughout it all, your core contracts even tighter over the way his clavicle, tendons, and muscles protrude and flex like they’re about to break through his skin.  

At this point, you’re beyond delirious and definitely beyond gratified. You assume he’s about to finish when he decreases his pace and bends closer to you, but instead, he continues to still move inside of you.  

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” you gasp and grunt between his rough, buried thrusts. “How are you not close?” 

“I’m not ready to be done with you yet, beautiful,” Johnny rasps into your ear. You catch a glimpse of his cocked eyebrow and smirk. “Unless you can’t handle me?” 

Denying his accusation, you haul his cheeks to yours and kiss him fiercely.  

And with that, Johnny’s weight is on his knees again and he fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. 

However, Johnny might’ve been right because it doesn’t take long for you to beg repeatedly for him to come.  

“So, what’s the verdict? Still like me after that?” 

Both individuals are still nude on the bed, but now covered by a blanket. Resting on his chest, you drum your fingers over his skin in thought (as if you need to even think about an answer besides the obvious). 

Pouting up at Johnny, you say, “I’ll only like you if you keep your promise on fucking me in the store next time.” 

“Of course.” He palms your cheek and inches forward, preparing to kiss you tenderly. 

“A gentleman never breaks his promise.”  

EPILOGUE 

One month later, the record store’s business has been growing, so Johnny decides to hire one of his friends, Mark, to be a part-time worker.

Which means that Johnny has more spare time to do other things... like taking you from behind in the back office over his desk. 

“Shit, fuck,” you grip harshly onto the edges of the worn-out wooden desk as he thrusts endlessly. Even after a month of dating, your pussy still isn’t fully accustomed to the size of his girth. You’re unsure if it ever will be. 

No matter, it always feels amazing. 

“Johnny, Johnny—” 

“Johnny!” Mark’s voice suddenly cuts in and calls from outside of the office door. You immediately bite down on your lower lip to shut yourself up. “Someone’s asking me about a limited edition vinyl and I don’t know how to answer.” 

“Uhhh,” Johnny drones absentmindedly, yet jabs into you with more rigor. You bite down harder, but you can’t control the rising volume of your stifled moans. “Give me five minutes.” 

A silent beat passes. 

“Dude, are you fucking in the office again?!” the part-timer exclaims. You can practically see him shaking his head in disgust. “Ugh, I’ll give them the store’s card. Hurry up, though.”

As he walks away, you hear him faintly say, “Sometimes I think this is why you hired me...” 

Simultaneously, you both giggle heartily. Your lover pecks you lovingly on your shoulder prior to diving again into the wanton moment. 

In the end, Johnny actually spends ten more minutes with you. But he can afford the extra minutes—he is the owner of the shop, after all. 

[moonctzeny]

Baby

au+trope+prompt game: college!au Jaehyun + fake dating + it’s just so hard not to fall in love with you

pairing: jung jaehyun x fem!reader x asshole!yuta

other members as background characters: yuta, mark, johnny, jungwoo

genre: angst, smut

word count: 9,124

warnings: abusive relationship, toxic behaviour

summary: “When Yuta breaks your heart for the millionth time, you meet Jaehyun, freshly broken up and looking for revenge. You decide to start fake dating to get back on your exes, but your plan takes an unexpected turn. You fall in love.”

a/n: I really don’t like putting yuta in a negative light like that it’s just for the fic’s sake! also I literally used the name Naeun as Jaehyun’s ex because I think it’s SUCH a pretty name, NO correlation whatsoever to any korean celebrity named naeun!

_____________________________________

You knew it was wrong.

Looking through your boyfriend’s, Yuta’s, phone while he took a shower, was the arguably the tackiest thing you have ever done.

He was always distant lately, only seeming to make time for a booty call, and at first, you blamed your hectic schedule. Your major was demanding, to say the least, so when Yuta suggested that you replace your dates with some “quality time” at his dorm, you had no objections. You didn’t know that he also meant ignoring your calls, canceling on you at the last minute to meet up with his frat brothers, and keeping your relationship strictly between four walls and two naked bodies.

The thought of him meaning more to you than you meant for him ate you away. It creeped in your mind while you heard the water running from your shower, and lead your fingertips to tap in the password of his phone.

Opening his messaging app, you recognize his best friends’ icons in a group chat consisting of his frat members. You scrolled up, ignoring the latest massages regarding a party that the frat would be throwing in two weeks. You started to feel guilty, not exactly sure what you were looking for, when you saw your name at the screen.

m0rklee[00:10]: @yutassanhyung, i saw your girl today at the supermarket! why didn’t you tell her about the party next Sunday?

you[00:12]: what girl lol  

m0rklee[00:13]: y/n?? i thought you guys were together?

you[00:12]: nahh

fairyteil[00:15]: eyy @yutassan if you’re done with her i know a couple guys who wanna hit it too

you[00:16]: be my guest haha

you[00:16]: don’t get me wrong she was bad when we met but shit is getting kinda stale

tenoutoften[00:17]: aren’t you on your way to her place lol

you[00:17]: hey hey pussy is pussy

Was that all you were to him? Pussy?

Yuta called you special, he called you yours. He didn’t like it when you were talking to other guys. He ripped your lingerie set because he didn’t want anyone else to ever see you in it but him. And then he dared to go around and call you a fling?

You heard the water stop running and knew you didn’t have much time until you had to face him, the thought alone making you sick.

You didn’t bother to lock his phone again, leaving the chat that made you so upset open. Grabbing your keys and a jacket, you left your place and hoped that Yuta would get the message and get the fuck out of there before you came back.

Your legs walked on their own accord, your memory leading you to the only place where you knew you’d find any sort of comfort. When Johnny opened his door, tears were already streaming down your face. He took the open tequila bottle you were holding and pulled you in for a hug. He smelled like weed and beer, and after hearing the “Is that the pizzas?”, you realized that your best friend wasn’t alone.

You quickly wiped your cheeks and fixed your sex hair that Yuta messed up, trying your best to look presentable. Johnny put a hand on your back and lead you to his living room. Jungwoo, your and Johnny’s friend from high school, was sprawled out on the couch, a little disappointed after seeing that you were, in fact, not the pizzas. Next to him, drowning in a bean bag, was Jaehyun. You didn’t really know him very well other than the fact that he took the same major as Johnny, so you felt a little insecure looking as messy as you did right now. His eyes were red, just like the other men’s, but you could swear his eyelashes looked a little damp.

Jungwoo’s words were muffled by the barbecue chips he was munching away.

“Yoo y/n, I didn’t know you were coming!”

You placed the tequila bottle on the table,

“Yeah, Woo, figured you wanted something to drink”

“Move” Johnny murmured to him, but he only stretched and sighed dramatically, shoving a handful of chips in his mouth.

“I don’t need a drink I need food. I’m hungry and I got the munchies”

Johnny grabbed his ankle and with impressive ease, dragged Jungwoo to the floor. The taller man sat on the couch, on the side next to Jaehyun and you followed his lead, letting a grumpy Jungwoo lean his head on your knees. Taking the lit joint from Jaehyun’s fingers, Johnny turned his attention back on you.

“So tell me chica” he said and took a hit, “who do I have to beat up?”

“Yuta”, you grumbled, “I’m ghosting this motherfucker”

You felt the vibrations on your lap when Jungwoo started talking.

“What did he do this time? Didn’t I tell you not to get involved with stupid frat boys?”

You started petting his hair, the softness comforting under your fingers.

“Apparently I’m not ‘bad’ enough for him anymore” you replied, throwing air quotes and rolling your eyes.

“Whaaaaat” Johnny drew out with a cough after taking a particularly deep inhale from the blunt, “you’re like the baddest bitch I know. Even now, that you’re all puffy from crying and smell like his dick”

You hit his shoulder, almost dropping the joint he was passing to Jungwoo, embarrassed that he would say something like that in front of Jaehyun, an almost stranger to you.

“I don’t know, man” Jungwoo started, and you could hear the smile on his face, “when girls cry it’s kinda hot”

You were contemplating how many hairs of his you should rip out of his scalp when the telecom rang, assumably by the pizza delivery man.

“Saved by the bell”, Jungwoo muttered to himself and got up quickly to open the door. While the youngest paid for the pizzas, Johnny held your hand, a bit guilty for his words earlier. He had a mischievous smirk and kept shifting his gaze between you and Jaehyun, who had been sitting in silence ever since you got here, occasionally smiling at your friends’ teasing.

“Fuck Yuta, man. You should find a nice guy to treat you well and fuck you even better y’know?” he started, and patted his buddy roughly on the back, “Like Jae over here”

Your eyes widened and you instinctively glanced at Jaehyun, ears a deep red and a matching shocked look on his face.

You cleared your throat, “No offense, but, like, aren’t you practically married to this girl-uhhh what’s her name again? Naeun?”

To someone who wasn’t listening to your conversation, it must have seemed like you tased him, or brought up a painful childhood memory, or asked him if he’d be willing to lick a lemon after washing his teeth. He looked away from you, and turned his attention to his nails, ripping a cuticle off in deep concentration. His voice was so quiet when he finally spoke, that you barely heard him. “I broke up with her, actually.. Like, three hours ago”

Guilt washed over you in an instant, not knowing that you scratched a wound so fresh. You wanted to apologize and even ask if you should leave the three alone, when Jungwoo grabbed the Tequila bottle and crashed on the couch clumsily between you and Johnny.

“Fuck love!”, he yelled, “let’s get wasted”

_______________________________________

You stared at the empty José Cuervo bottle rising up and down Johnny’s chest with every one of his snores. He was laid out on his couch, his tall height taking up all of its entirety, leaving Jungwoo passed out on the floor. Jaehyun followed your eyes and smiled at Johnny’s sleeping face, mouth open and tongue spilling out.

After the 4th shot, you found out that Jae was a pretty decent guy. He let you rant about Yuta while your friends were busy trying to see who could eat a large pizza by himself the fastest. You told him all about how you never went on dates anymore, how you looked through his phone after having sex, and the text conversation you found earlier tonight. He listened carefully, without judgment, and after smoking some more of Johnny’s staff, he opened up to you about his relationship with Naeun.

Or rather, how he found her fucking his roommate on his own bed.

You always thought of these two as what they call a ‘power couple’. Valedictorian meets basketball all-star, they graduate and have beautiful babies, while all the rest of us mortals can do is admire from afar. You would have never guessed the toxicity, constant cheating and manipulation that Jaehyun was recounting. You bonded over stories about cancelled dates, emotional distancing and feeling like you’re always the one giving but never receiving. If you were being honest, you would have never expected such emotional depth from a college point guard. He drew you in with his gentleness, and you noticed how different he was from Yuta, who engulfed you with his intensity. You also hated how even now, you were still thinking of him.

Just then, you got his third message for the night:

asshole [03:35]:come on baby don’t ignore mee, me and the guys were just messing around

you [03:36]:stop texting me

you [03:38]:we’re done

You locked your phone, upset and angry, and felt Jaehyun sigh.

“I know I’m falling for her stupid games, but I just want to get back at her y’know? Show her what she’s missing, that type of thing”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. During the past hours, you weighted all the possible ways you could make Yuta regret ever taking you for granted.

He was so charming that he could get laid with anyone he wanted (and probably did, even when you were ‘dating’), but even after what he said to Taeil, you knew that he hated the thought of anyone else fucking you. He wanted your body to be his, without having to deal with the commitment that came with that privilege.

You thought about fucking one of his frat buddies, but that would get you from being called ‘Yuta’s girl’ to ‘ΘΨΩ’s cumslut’, and your self esteem couldn’t take that blow.

Jaehyun’s deep voice interrupted your train of thoughts.

“Maybe Johnny’s right”

“Huh? ”

“You should date me”

You blinked at him twice, not knowing what to reply when you saw him wave his hands frantically in front of his face.

“Fake date me! I mean, you should fake date me. Sorry, the weed’s got me a little fucked up”

At first, the idea seemed crazy. Yes, it would make Yuta furious that you were supposedly fucking one of the hottest guys on campus. Yes, Naeun would get mad that she didn’t have Jaehyun’s constant attention that she so craved anymore. Yes, you two might have revealed your deepest insecurities, opened up your hearts to each other all while sharing a bottle of alcohol, but you had never hanged out together without Johnny being present. You had barely hanged out together, period. But wouldn’t that make it even more believable? Two of Johnny’s best friends break up at the same time, meet up at his house and inevitably end up together. You didn’t share the same major, so you wouldn’t have to put up the act too much at college. And with social media, making a fake relationship believable was easier than ever.

asshole [03:42]: fuck you. you think you can find someone better than me?

Drunk and lacking logic, you agreed on the plan, and gave him your number. You had just finished creating the contact on his phone when he suddenly got up and rushed to the bathroom, facing the consequences of the tequila and weed combo.

You passed out on Johnny’s bean bag and when you woke up on Sunday afternoon, Jaehyun was gone.

———————————————————

You didn’t expect him to text you on Monday, thinking that it was intoxication that gave him the idea of fake dating and made it look brilliant. So when he gave you the address to his dorm, to further discuss your ‘operation’ you were surprised, but determined to succeed.

The plan was simple. You would start tagging each other on your instagram stories, to show people that you were spending time alone. He agreed to pick you up from your lecture on Wednesday, your classes coinciding on neighboring buildings. And for you final act, he’d come with you as your plus one for the frat’s party next Sunday. Mark was nice enough to invite you, after Yuta ‘forgot’ to do it instead, and Naeun, being Taeil’s sister, wouldn’t miss it for the world. It was the perfect opportunity to flaunt your new relationship, all while being on the opponent’s part of the field.

You started off innocently enough. After you and Jaehyun finished brainstorming ideas about the ‘operation’ as he insisted on calling it, he suggested you stay for a movie and some Chinese food. His dorm was cozy, a little messy, maybe, but it fitted his boyish charm. He had a nice collection of vinyls, stating that his favorite one was I. by Cigarettes After Sex. You were a bit taken aback by his love for dreampop and rnb, but the more you got to know him, the more it seemed to fit him nicely. On the wall next to his bed hung a display full of all of his sport trophies. He was known for his basketball skills, but you also saw medals for soccer, track, volleyball. Amongst them all was an English certificate and a spelling bee award. You wondered if he ever felt pressure trying to be so perfect all the time.

The movie was terrible, but Jaehyun managed to entertain you by making silly jokes throughout and mocking the actors’ bad acting. It was the first time you ever saw him crack a joke like that and be willing to contort his handsome features. So much better than the dream boy image he was feigning for everyone, but you didn’t know him well enough to tell him. The movie was halfway done when he picked up his phone and opened a camera app through his Instagram.

“Shouldn’t we take a story? Since we’re together anyways?”

You nodded and scooted closer to him. He was a bit hesitant as he positioned the camera to capture your legs that were touching, a scene from the movie playing in the background. It was a cute picture but nothing indicated that the two of you were more than friends. You pressed the X at the top of the screen to discard the picture, and placed his hand on top of your thigh. You turned around just in time to witness his ears turning into a fuschia pink.

“Is that okay?”

He nodded and regained his cool, taking the picture and tagging you with a red heart next to your username.

A couple hours after leaving his place you texted him, asking if Naeun had replied to his story. He said that unfortunately, the only person who batted an eye was Johnny, replying with a “ 👀 👀 👀 “ .

———————————————————

You met up again the next day, at your apartment this time.

He looked nervous being in a place so foreign to him yet so personal to you, so you decided to turn the lights down to help him relax, insisting that you weren’t trying to seduce him or anything. He laughed at your joke but still looked tense, and you thought that maybe he needed some liquid courage to open up.

“Hey Jae. Want a drink?”

It took him 3 beers to finally loosen up and show you his dimpled grin again. You were sitting on the floor, facing each other and feeling comfortable in the ambience of the room. A Spotify playlist was playing in the background so it would fill up the awkward silence but wouldn’t distract you from your conversation.

“Wait wait wait. So you sleep without a pillowcase?”

“Yeah, didn’t you notice it when you came to my place yesterday?”

“I thought you forgot to do your laundry!”

His laugh was resonating and deep and manly. It made his eyes disappear and his face light up, not that it didn’t anyway - the guy could easily be a skin care ambassador, and you made a mental note to ask him about his moisturizer later.

You followed his gaze to one of your walls. Pictures were filling it up, memories of yourself and your siblings, of your friends from home that you missed, of Johnny and Jungwoo. You felt a little insecure then, comparing them to Jaehyun’s countless medals and awards.

“I’m not good at sports like you, so I have nothing else to hang on my wall”, you laughed awkwardly but he shook his head.

“No, I’m actually jealous of you. Everyone always seems to want to be around you”

“Except Yuta”

“Yuta’s an idiot, then. You are way out of his league anyways.”

You felt yourself turning into a blushing mess and looked for a way to break the awkward silence that followed his comment.

“Wanna share another one?” you asked him, shaking the empty beer bottle on your hand and he nodded. You started getting up when you felt him put a hand on your shoulder and pick up the bottles you had finished up from the table himself. He rinsed them off and put them away to the recycling bag next to your sink, the domesticity of the action making you melt. You watched as he stood on his tiptoes to reach a lager from the top drawer of your fridge, revealing a defined set of abs and two cute dimples on his lower back. You ripped your eyes away immediately, like you were caught doing something illegal, and he walked back to his spot next to you. As soon as he sat down, he groaned and threw his head back.

“The bottle opener was on the kitchen counter. I forgot to bring it”

Without saying a word, you took the beer from his hand and placed the cap in your mouth. It was a party trick that your older brother had taught you when you were 15. After finding a stable indentation on your teeth, you manipulate the rough edges of the cap and pop the beer open. You return the glass bottle to Jaehyun, who’s looking at you incredulously.

“Fuck me, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”, he breaths out and you feel your whole face burning up. You opened and closed your mouth a couple times, trying to register that someone like him thought you were hot, when you felt your phone vibrating, saving you from further embarrassing yourself.

Johnny’s picture lit up on the screen and you mentally prepared yourself for the following conversation. You and Jaehyun decided against telling anyone about your relationship being fake. It’s not that your best friend wasn’t reliable, but if you told Johnny you had to tell Jungwoo, and Jungwoo doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut to save his life.

“John, what’s up”

“Eyy chica what took you so long?”

You looked at Jaehyun who had leaned back against the pillow of your couch and sipped on the beer you would share.

“Yeah sorry I was a little busy”

“Busy.. with Jaehyun?”

You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but you were still trying to recover from the previous incident.

“Yeah, he’s here”

“Ohh I see, little y/n can’t get enough of Jae’s slam dunks.. I bet he’s teaching you the bank shot, the opening tip, the double dribble, the fast break, the palming.. he sure is great for a rebound-”

You interrupted him, growing tired of his nonstop basketball innuendos.

“Why did you call me Johnny?”

“Damn, sorry, I just wanted to ask you what you wanted for your birthday”

Shit, you forgot about that.

“Just get me whatever, I don’t care, you know how much I hate celebrating anyways. I’ll get the cake myself, so no surprises”

Jaehyun lifted his brows and waited patiently for your call to end before asking:

“What are we celebrating?”

“It’s my birthday on Friday. I’m going to invite a couple people over and Johnny’s already stressing over it. Don’t worry, though, you don’t have to come”

“How can your boyfriend not come to your birthday party?”

You laugh bitterly.

“Well, it’s not like Yuta came last year. To any of my parties for that matter”

“Well, he must have made up to you somehow? Got you a very special gift or something?”

“If you count eating me out as a gift then yes. It was very rare indeed.”

You took the beer from him and took a sip yourself. You noticed he had his eyes glued on his phone, his expression gloomy.

“Is everything okay?”

He snapped out of it at the sound of your voice and turned his phone screen towards you.

It was Naeun, or rather a post on her instagram account. She had her tongue out in the picture, hugging two guys that were unfamiliar to you. You read the caption.

“One day the loser will realize that the diamond he thinks he’s playing with is actually a rock”

Jaehyun mumbled an apology. I guess he thought that you’d be a bit offended being called a ‘rock’ but you were actually feeling satisfied. Your fake relationship had managed to get her attention, and for Jaehyun’s sake, you wanted to rub it in her face even more.

You opened your camera app and placed your phone on the table next to you. He figured what you wanted to do so he sat up straighter and motioned to his lap. You’d normally be a bit hesitant to sit on him if it wasn’t for the two beers and your determination, that had fired up again due to Naeun’s words. Leaning back a bit, you set up the self-timer and he put his hands on your hips to stabilize you.

You had agreed on turning up the boldness of your pics, so you placed your hands on his neck, right under his jawline. He snaked his hands upwards and wrapped them around your waist, bringing you even closer. His eyes were glossy from the alcohol and he looked at you with an impressive calmness, considering the intimacy of your position. It seemed like he was waiting for something, the ticking of the timer urging you to take things a bit further and he nodded, as if giving you permission. You leaned in, and pressed your lips on the corner of his mouth, like you couldn’t decide on kissing his dimple or his lips.

After hearing the click you climbed down from his lap, and prayed that the photo came out in focus. Your heart couldn’t handle another retake. From the angle of the camera, it seemed like you were a couple in love, sharing a sweet kiss on the lips. You added a cute caption and tagged him, so he could repost it later on his own account.

It hadn’t been 5 minutes before your phone lit up.

yutassan replied to your story: what the fuck?

You smiled triumphantly and showed the message to Jaehyun, who laughed at Yuta’s reaction. He gave you an excuse about some forgotten homework and how it was late and he has to go.

“Remember, I’ll pick you up tomorrow from class, so wait for me”

After he left, you thought about your almost kiss and the dimples of his back for way too long.

——————————————————

You exited the classroom with a growing headache. The lesson today seemed extra boring, and all you could think about was that you had to convince Johnny that it really took just three days for Jaehyun and you to officially start dating.

As promised, the pair waited for you at the end of the hallway, your best friend looking at the two of you expectantly. Jaehyun was a good actor, you thought, as he approached you before you got to reach them, meeting you halfway.

“Hey baby”, he smiled at you, the nickname turning your legs into jelly. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder, and kissed your cheek sweetly, making Johnny coo at the two of you.

“I can’t believe that I hadn’t thought about pairing the two of you together earlier”

He must have thought that the awkward body language and the silence that fell was a sign from you and Jae to leave you alone. He excused himself, saying something about “letting the young lovers swim in the pool of their love”, or something along those lines.

The two of you walked together, following the road to your next class that was just a few buildings away.

“So how has class, baby

You rolled your eyes at the insistent nickname, “you know that Johnny left us, like, 5 minutes ago, right?”

“Let me enjoy itttt”, he whined, “Naeun never let me call her anything like that”

“Why is that?”

He looked at his feet moving and frowned in thought.

“She said I was embarrassing her in front of her friends. I think she just didn’t want other guys to know that we were together”

You felt a pang of sadness and you realized that it always followed any conversation you two had about his and Naeun’s relationship.

“Well then if you call me baby, I can will you honey. Or sugarplum. Or pumpkin pie. Or-“

It was startling how fast Jaehyun pressed you up against the wall. In just a moment, he had put his hands on your waist, burying his face in your hair. You shivered when you felt his breath as he spoke against your neck.

“Yuta’s watching us”

All you could do was stay frozen in place, and listen with wide eyes.

“Huh?”

He chuckled at your response, but he replied patiently.

“Yuta? Your ex? He’s right over there. Figured we should give him a show”

And with that, he kissed you. Everything was happening so fast, that you could barely comprehend that Jaehyun, that was a stranger in the past weekend, was now making out with you at the hall, for everyone to see.

And that included Yuta.

You opened your eyes in the kiss and searched for him, spotting him with his frat buddies. His eyes were piercing through the two of you, and you saw Mark holding him back by the shoulder. The look on his face was priceless.

Jaehyun pulled back and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Thank you”, you whispered, “but I need one more favor”

“Anything baby”

“Slap my ass as we walk away”

Sure enough, Jaehyun took your hand and you continue your walk, momentarily stopping to make eye contact with Yuta and give you a little spank. It was something your ex loved doing on the rare occasion you two met up outside of your dorms, no matter how public the setting. You heard Mark yelling something at his ‘Yuta hyung’ and that’s when you thought, your plan just might work.

———————————————————

You didn’t see Jaehyun until your birthday. It was just a small get together, but your place was starting to get a bit crowded as time went by. Johnny had been suffocating you with hugs ever since he got there, reminiscing the time you met as teenagers and calling you an old lady. Jungwoo on the other hand couldn’t stop asking about Jaehyun. You kept making excuses about how he didn’t feel so good today and might not make it. You didn’t expect him to come, of course. Just because you had agreed on fake dating, it didn’t mean that he had any obligation to be present in all your social events. The loving message he left on your Facebook wall was enough to fulfill the purpose of your current relationship.

That is why, when you heard a knock on your door, the last thing you thought you’d see was Jaehyun holding a dozen of red roses.

“Happy birthday baby!”, he exclaimed and gave you a kiss on your cheek,

“I asked Johnny about your favorite flowers, hope we got it right”

Feeling speechless, you took the roses from his hands and inhaled their sweet scent. You were dumbfounded that he actually came, and even brought you a present. You thanked him for coming, and he repeated the same thing he said back at your place, “how could your boyfriend miss your birthday?”

And even you were fooled, momentarily, when he held you by the waist later that night and sang you happy birthday. You blew your candles and all you could wish for was a love like the one Jaehyun was faking for you. He helped you clean up, and was more than willing to socialize with all of your friends. You admired how well he fitted in your social circle, already friends with Johnny and Jungwoo, yet so nice that even people he met for the first time came to love him.

You were sitting on one of your dining chairs, your two best friends already passed out on your couch. They had brought two bottles of vodka and your favorite tequila, but you weren’t in the mood to drink. You couldn’t help but remember the time when you practically begged Yuta to be there on your special day and he still missed it. You were scared that if you got a little drunk you would text him, or worse, call him, his sweet talk bringing you back to him all over again.

The only sounds resonating through your apartment were Jungwoo’s light snoring and a chill Spotify playlist playing from your laptop. A familiar tune came on, and you recognized it being ‘Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby’ by Cigarettes After Sex. You immediately looked at Jaehyun, the only conscious person still at the party other than you. He threw his head back and sighed contently at the sound of his favorite song. You saw him get up and walk over to you, reaching his hand out.

“Will the birthday girl spare me a dance?”

You slow danced in the middle of your living room, ending the night in the sweetest note. Jaehyun always felt so stable, so safe. You wondered how he got himself tangled up in that mess of a relationship with Naeun. Maybe it was the way he treated people with such kindness, void of any prejudice. Maybe he was a little bit like you, and didn’t think he deserved much.

“She’s crazy” you mumble against his chest, his confused hum making you feel the vibration on your face.

“Naeun. She’s crazy for ever cheating on someone like you. You’re perfect”

“I have my flaws”

You thought about how competitive he got when you played beer pong earlier, how his ears get red when he gets embarrassed, how he shows his dimpled smile in apology when he’s late. His love for drinking and how it makes him more honest, his trust in people that must have gotten him hurt many, many times. You liked them all, you loved them all.

“It’s just so hard for someone not to fall in love with you”

———————————————————

And that’s how the days went by with Jaehyun. You met up almost every day, in restaurants for a nice dinner, or hanging out in each other’s dorm. It was so much fun getting to spend time with him, that you sometimes forgot to make your meetup public on social media. You helped him with his math homework, and he helped you dye your hair. You even went to his basketball game, and he dedicated one of his goals to you, following every teen movie cliche.

You felt a little sad how it was all falling to an end. The plan was successful, for the most part. Naeun had asked Jaehyun to meet up later tonight, talk things through. You wished he wouldn’t go back to her, but you knew you had no real say in his love life. Yuta saw that he didn’t own you, that there were people like Jaehyun that were willing to give you what your ex had promised you, but wasn’t able to give. Well, not really, you reminded yourself. Jaehyun was faking it. You shouldn’t let yourself get lost in the fairytale, even if the past two weeks were some of the best of your life. He had proposed that you claim that the reason for your upcoming ‘breakup’ was differences in character, but you decided to stay friends. You were happy that at least, in the midst of all this mess, you met someone like him.

It was Saturday, a day before the frat party. You had invited him over, celebrate the end of your relationship with some pizza and a movie.

The movie was boring, but Jaehyun made you laugh. It reminded you of the first time the two of you met up alone. You had gotten comfy on your couch, sharing popcorn when you noticed. A huge bruise was peeking out from Jaehyun’s tank top, the dark color contrasting against his porcelain skin.

“What the hell?!” you exclaimed and scooted closer to him. You rushed your hands on his chest, your fingers pushing the fabric aside to examine the bruise. You found even more bruises scattered around it, accompanied with scratches that stretched longer than his top could.

“It was from the game the other day”, he tried to excuse, but you weren’t buying it.

“Jae, I was there. You played basketball, not WWE. Now who did this to you?”

He sighed and fidgeted with a loose string on his jeans, clearly uncomfortable.

“When I caught Naeun with my roommate, and broke up with her, she didn’t take it very well”

You kept staring at him, urging him to continue.

“She started calling me names, saying that she’s the best I’ll ever have. That I’m worthless without her, just a social climber trying to mooch off of her popularity”

He motioned on his torso, “When I kicked her out of my place, this happened”

“Is that the first time she acted violent?”

He shook his head. “Pretty much every time she didn’t get her way”

“Jae”, you started, placing your hands on top of his “this is abuse. Have you ever talked to anyone about it?”

“It’s- it’s nothing. It’s embarrassing”

“No it’s not! Abuse is not exclusive to any gender! Guys get affected by it too!”

“It’s embarrassing because I know I can physically stop her but I don’t”

His eyes were starting to water, the sight was heartbreaking. “I sit there frozen and just take it”

“Why?”

“Because part of me believes her. That I’m hopeless without someone like her, dictating what I can and cannot do. I don’t need a shrink to tell me that it’s sick. I have these bruises to remind me”

You were starting to get angry. Angry at that bitch for hurting him, angry at Jaehyun who puts up with it, angry at you, for not seeing past the obvious like everyone else.

“I’m not letting you go see her tonight”

He laughs at you, putting up an invisible barrier between you.

“Not letting me? Wake up y/n! We’re not a real couple, remember? We’re just faking it to satisfy our selfish needs. This whole thing is pointless”

He stormed to the door and you tried to stop him, but he was too riled up for that.

“You’re going to forget about me as soon as this whole circus is over, just like everyone else”

“How can you accuse me like that when you haven’t even let me be a part of your life for real?”

“Because now you’ve met me. Me. With all my ugly, all my fucking bruises. Is it still so hard not to fall in love with me?”

With that, he closed your door with a bang, not even letting you answer that yes, it was impossible not to fall in love with Jung Jaehyun.

———————————————————

History seemed to repeat itself, as you got a text from him the next morning, that you didn’t expect.

jaehyunnie: let’s meet outside of the frat at 10:30, i’ll bring the booze.

And that’s what you did, showing up with your shortest skirt, spotting Jaehyun sitting a few meters from the frat’s entrance. He was laying against the wall, his eyes red, and he gave you the same smile he always did when he saw you, as if your fight yesterday never happened.

“Hey baby” he said and pulled you in for a hug. You couldn’t resist the invitation, and felt yourself melting in his embrace. He smelled like weed and shower gel.

It was nice, how he proclaimed your truce, but you still had to get something off your chest.

“Listen, Jae, about last night, you were right. This whole thing is pointless. We can go home, if you want”

“No baby”, he started and pulled away just enough to look at you. His eyes were droopy but glancing back at you with such care as he moved a strand of hair out of your face, “we’re here to have fun”

You wondered why he was still willing to come to the party with you as your boyfriend. Maybe he wanted to do you one last favor with Yuta, or maybe he wasn’t done indulging in Naeun’s petty games. You looked at his forearms, noticing a few scratches that weren’t there yesterday.

“I’m guessing you and Naeun didn’t make up last night”

He shook his head, and rubbed his hands on your back, keeping your temper down.

“Did you get in a fight?”

“Something like that”

You didn’t know what came over you. It was anger and protectiveness, possessiveness even. You laced your fingers in his locks, letting his head rest against the wall. If Naeun wanted you to speak in her language, then so be it.

You started kissing his neck, on that part on the side that is tender and sensitive. You heard passerbys whistling at the two of you, seemingly getting it on in public. Your licks and sucks weren’t meant for pleasure though, you had a goal and that was to leave a bruise. A statement for Naeun.

You walked in the building hand in hand and followed Jae to the kitchen, where he poured you a drink out of the bottle he brought along. Looking around, you sensed a couple familiar faces staring back at you from the crowd. Taeyong from class, Mark and Ten, and last but not least, Naeun. You downed the drink in one shot and lead Jaehyun to the dance floor.

He put his hands on your hips, and swayed you at the sound of some club song you weren’t familiar with. You ground your ass against him and he hissed, keeping you close against him. A little voice in your head was screaming how this isn’t real, to him this is all pretend, but you ignored it. You wanted her to think that he was yours, that she couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“Why are you doing this to me y/n? Yuta’s not even around”

Jae turned you around, and you put your hands on his shoulders. He looked absolutely breathtaking tonight. You searched his face for a flaw, yet couldn’t find any. You wouldn’t change a single thing on him.

“She’s here” you said venomously.

He buried his face in your neck, inhaling the smell of your hair and trying to ground himself from his high. “I don’t give a fuck about Naeun”

He kissed your ear and your mind fogged up even more.

“She didn’t ask me to meet up yesterday, I did. I wanted to tell her that she and I were done, for good. I thought she wouldn’t be here tonight, but I guess she changed her mind”

What?

“Then why are you here? And why did you let me give you that big ass hickey?”

He stopped nibbling on your ear, and whispered to it instead.

“I’d never miss up on a chance to feel yours”

The bodies dancing next to you, the liquer you had downed a few minutes ago and Jaehyun’s words were getting too much to handle. You felt suffocated, unable to distinguish where reality ended and pretending began with you two.

“Jae, I need a moment, excuse me”

Releasing yourself from his grasp, you made your way to the kitchen. There wasn’t any fresh air, but there was plenty of booze. You poured yourself a shot and as you downed it, you felt another liquid trickling down your top.

You looked up to find out who managed to make this night even worse for you, only to come across the last person you needed to see tonight. Yuta.

“Shit I’m sorry”, he muttered and you avoided eye contact, thinking you’d manage to get away without him realizing it was you. Luck wasn’t on your side tonight.

“Well well well. Long time no see.”

Confidence was dripping from his smile, to his stance, to the way he looked at you. He had dyed his hair your favorite color, his white locks begging to be tugged and played with. To top it all off, he smelled good, so, so good. He smelled dangerous. Comfortable.

You immediately realized that you didn’t have the self control needed to resist him. Turning on your heel, you started to get the hell out of there when he held your wrist, keeping you in place.

“Wait, I’m sorry, you can’t stay like this, you’ll catch a cold”

“Since when are you worried about me?”

“C’mon y/n, please. Come upstairs, I’ll give you a clean shirt. No funny business, I promise”

You hated yourself for this, but you followed him upstairs to his room, like a pray falling right into the hunter’s trap. He closed the door behind him, muting the loud music and you sat on his bed that you were so familiar with. Looking through his closet, he passed you one of his t-shirts, and turned around to let you change with some privacy. It was comical how chivalrous he was acting, considering the unspeakable things you’ve done in here.

“Not like you’ll see something you haven’t seen already”, you murmured and he chuckled, raising his hands.

“Hey, I’m a gentleman. It’s my fault, after all. I have a habit of getting you wet.”

Blushing at his comment, you quickly changed into the clean shirt and felt the bed dip next to you. You thanked him under your breath and started getting up, when you felt him hold you back once again.

“Stay, just a moment. I’ve missed you”

“What do you want?”

“You, baby”

Yuta was the one who said it, but you swore you felt Jaehyun’s voice reverberating through the nickname. Suddenly, it felt like there was no air for you to breathe.

“That’s not happening, Yuta. I’m with Jaehyun now”

He scoffed, “Jaehyun? Naeun’s puppy? Come on now, we both know you can do better than that”

“Don’t talk about him like that”, you bite back, but he doesn’t budge.

“What kind of boyfriend leaves his girl alone in a party like this?” He grips your chin, making you stare at him face to face, impossibly close. “Look at you. Every single guy in this party wants to fuck you. You expect me to be ok with this?”

Yuta lets his other hand glide on your knee, moving up to your thigh slowly. He smiled at how easy it was to focus on him.

“Do you remember how I made you feel? How I reminded you that you’re mine? You were moaning so loud, Mark thought you’d pass out. You loved it.”

You wanted to scream, tell him that this was the past you, that you couldn’t take going back to him once again and get your heart broken one more time, but you felt helpless around him. The warm feeling was only temporary, it would soon evaporate when you face the fact that to him, you are nothing but a play toy, a possession.

And that’s when Jaehyun barged in through the door. His eyes moved frantically from Yuta’s hands on your thighs, to his band tee you wore, to your discarded top on the floor. He quickly turned red, the color spreading from his neck to his face, then landing on his ears.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my girlfriend?”

You instantly got up, following his thought sequence.

“It’s not what it looks like! He spilled his drink on me and gave me a clean shirt and..and..”

“And you decided to sit on his lap to thank him?”, he mocked you and Yuta laughed.

“Calm down, dude. I didn’t make her do anything. Besides, it’s not the first time y/n found her way over here after some disappointing dick”

Jaehyun grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up from the bed, forcing him to stand and face him. You moved between the two, trying to stop the catastrophe that was about to happen. Jae might have more muscle power than Yuta, but if the whole frat ganged up on him he would have to leave this place in a stretcher.

“Jaehyun please, let’s just go. Baby, please”

The nickname was the only thing that brought him out of his rage and made him listen to you. He let go of Yuta and took your hand, dragging you out of the room.

You were two hallways down when you pulled away, forcing him to stop.

“Why did you have to get so mad?”

“Why the fuck did you go back to him?”

“I didn’t! It was just.. so hard for me to tell him no”

You felt your eyes water with how pathetic you sounded. Jaehyun rubbed his hands over his face, groaning in frustration.

“Don’t you understand how much it fucking hurts? To see you with that guy that treats you like shit when I’m right here, willing to give you everything? When I’m in love with you?”

You couldn’t process what he said because in a moment, his mouth was on yours. The kiss was so different than the one you shared at the hallway of your campus. It was passionate, it was rough, and this time, he monopolized your attention. His lips were determined to bruise into yours, leaving you breathless and causing your back to fall against a wall. It was crowded around you, eyes prying into your intimate moment but to you, the only person around was Jaehyun.

“You smell like him”, he growled, sucking on the tender spot under your ear, “makes me wanna fuck his scent off of you”

That was all you needed to hear. You led him to the frat’s guest room, knowing that Taeil always kept a spare key in the lamp next to the door. Unlocking the door seemed like a tour de force with Jaehyun leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck, but you finally managed to stumble inside. You locked the door behind you, continuing your heated kiss, hands roaming around each other’s body.

He was taller than you, so when you felt him grab your ass with such eagerness, you almost lifted off the ground. You palmed him through his jeans, the roughness of his hard on making your panties stick from wetness just a bit more.

“I want to taste you” you managed through kisses, but he just unzipped your skirt as a response, pulling it to the floor in one hasty move. Petting your clit through your underwear, a shiver ran down your spine, spreading goosebumps all over your arms and legs.

“I don’t think I have the patience for that”

He walked you backwards towards the guest bed, taking his pants and shirt off along the way. You sat on the edge of it and admired his godly proportions, when you took notice of the bruises and scratches that led to your fight on Saturday. Suddenly feeling the need to slow down, you started leaving kisses over each and every one of them. You wanted him to trust you, give in to you completely. He had his flaws just like he said, but you wanted all of him. And you wanted him now.

“I need you, now”, you voiced your thoughts and helped him take off his boxers, revealing his hard cock. He was thick and decently long, making your mouth water and your pussy clench.

Towering on top of you, he removed your panties that were embarrassingly damp at this point, and by his smirk, you knew he noticed.

Jaehyun bent your legs next to your torso, making you expose all of you. He licked his lips as he dove into your lower ones, muttering praises about your “pretty pussy”, turning you impossibly wet.

Jung Jaehyun never disappoints, you thought, because the moment you felt the first lap over your sensitive bud, you got a taste of heaven. He alternated between licking and sucking over the spot that turned you into putty against him. You were already unbearably turned on at this point, and the changing pace of his tongue made you lose your mind.

Your pants and moans only seemed to urge him on, and after a few minutes of his careful treatment you felt yourself getting close. He must have sensed it, because when you grabbed the bedpost in an effort to stop shaking, he stood on his knees, and reached for a condom in his wallet.

You didn’t have time to complain about the denial of your orgasm, and started taking Yuta’s shirt off, when he grabbed your hands and placed them back on their previous position on the headboard.

“Don’t”, he said sternly as he lined himself up your entrance, “I want to fuck you in his shirt”

There was no time to think about whether his request was healthy or not, because when you felt him stretch you out, the only thing on your mind was him and his dick.

You let out a deep moan and he took it as a sign to screw himself deeper inside you. Your pussy gushed uncontrollably, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. You unlaced your fingers and ran them down his back, ghosting them over the dimples that had affected you so much.

Jaehyun lowered himself, letting his chest touch yours, and you could feel his abs contracting over the fabric of Yuta’s shirt.

“I bet he’s never eaten you out like that, yeah?”

“N-no, never, ahh”

He sat up again, putting your legs over his shoulders and lifted your butt off the mattress, gripping your hips to steady himself before continuing his incredible pace.

“You’re mine, aren’t you baby? Mine to give you everything.”

The position felt divine. He was hitting it incredibly deep, reaching the spot that had you moaning so loud you were thankful for the unbearably loud music of the party. You were sure his fingers would leave a mark over your hipbones but you didn’t care, the pain only accentuating the warm feeling in your belly.

“J-Jae don’t stop - fuck don’t stop I’m gonna cum”

He leaned over, grabbing your face that was contorting in pleasure.

“Look at me when you cum for me”, he demanded, and when you rolled your eyes behind your head, letting go, he let out his first moan for the night.

He kissed your lips sweetly, helping you ride out your high.

“You’re so beautiful, my baby. So, so beautiful”, he praised and you submitted fully to him. He turned your body around, positioning you in all fours, and you wondered where the gentle boy you met at Johnny’s house went. His dick buried in you once again, spreading your juices around and the sensitivity of your previous orgasm made you aware of every single inch.

“So fucking tight”

Jaehyun didn’t go easy on you. He saw how much you liked it, how you were pushing your ass against his cock. He pounded in and out of you with the intention of fucking your thoughts out, and that’s just what he did. When the feeling got too much, and making any sort of noise seemed like a feat, you felt him push your hair back, and start biting on your neck, most definitely leaving a mark.

“I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna cum”, he muttered, his voice wavering and you felt him release in the condom inside you.

It took a while for the both of you to regain your breaths. Jaehyun’s chest was heaving up and down as you rest your head on top of it, not brave enough to break the silence.

“I’m sorry”, he finally said and started petting your hair lovingly.

“About what?”

The bed was foreign and small but you both stayed still, wanting to bask a little more in the peacefulness of the moment.

“About getting so possessive, and saying all these things out of jealousy. I acted just like him..”

You kissed his left peck, listening to his heart that was starting to beat in a faster pace.

“Jaehyun, you’re nothing like Yuta. I get how you felt, I feel the same way when I think about you with Naeun”

He took your hand that was resting on his abs and planted a kiss on your palm. Your heart did a flip and you were pressed so close together, he sure must have felt it.

“I should have told you about her sooner. About the fights and how I let her go because of you. I was in denial about my feelings for you because-“

He stopped mid sentence, wary of the way his words would come off to you. Jaehyun was a proud man, but he opened up his heart tonight, admitting he was in love with you. He had already exposed so much of himself that you gave him the time he needed to organize his thoughts.

“Because I was insecure. That you would never like someone like me. That Naeun was right. That you were only interested in playing pretend with me and didn’t mean any of the things you said, and I let myself get carried away in a lie”

You and Jaehyun were two lost souls, trying to break free from the constraints your insecurities built up for you. You didn’t have to succumb to your masochistic tendencies anymore, wasting your time in heartless lovers because now you found him and he found you. Both unable to see any value in themselves, but more that willing to treasure the other. And that was enough for you.

“I’d be honored to be loved by someone like you. Baby.”

[violet-knox]

Hi, I would like to make a request but first I would want to thank you, regardless of whether my request is accepted, It really makes me so happy how you portrait and write for Severus, it means so much to me, I don't think I can thank you enough but thank you, thank you so much and about my request, if you can I would like to request a young Severus x reader sweet smut story with lots of tender, meaningful touches and words, he deserves so much to be loved and wanted and feel good about him.

Study Break

Pairing: Young!Snape x Female!Reader

Summary: Fed up with Severus studying for your N.E.W.Ts 24/7, you decide to give Severus a well deserved study break. 

Warnings: Smut. Lots of smut (Oral sex, vaginal sex, hand job, fingering, humping, implied light dom/sub)

Word Count: 6061

A/N: Oh my anon! Thank you so much for your lovely words!! 😭😭 You are too kind and your ask made me smile every single time I read it from the first day I got it! I will truly miss having it in my draft box, but I’m very honoured to finally have written your request. 

I think I’m beginning to get more comfortable with smut. I definitely need more practice but considering the word count of this one shot, I’d say there is definite potential. Hopefully I’ll eventually find the write style for me and we can get to the more.. raunchy stuff 😏😏😏

You watched Severus pick up what had to be the tenth set of books that evening, placing them next to the others on the table in your own little corner of the library with a thump. You sighed and set down your quill, your eyes so strained you weren’t sure if there truly were four towers of books around you or if you were just seeing double. Severus took a seat back beside you and resumed his quest to memorize every spell, every potion and learn everything there was to know about the Wizarding world. That’s at least what you’d convinced yourself that he was doing because no one in the history of time had to have studied for their N.E.W.Ts as intensely as he was currently claiming to do. Day after day, week after week, you’d walk up to find him with a book in his hand barely eating a thing as he made his way to the library. You were beginning to feel more like his overly concerned mother than his girlfriend and that really didn’t sit well with you. You were tired of having to force him to take breaks if only to eat and sleep. His health was important to you and it hurt to see him suffering so much for a grade. 

“Sev, I can’t do this anymore,” you told him with a heavy sigh, your fingers rubbing your temple as you closed your eyes to try and regain your sanity. Severus snapped his head towards you, his eyes wide as he studied your posture. His heart beat rapidly, sweat trickling down his forehead as he anticipated your next words. “I think we need a break.”

His heart broke and he felt it fall to the floor, shattered in a million pieces. He’d always feared this day would come; the day you realized you couldn’t handle him anymore, the day you realized you deserved better than him. He could sense the tension, the frustration you felt these past couple of weeks as he buried himself in his studies to distract him from the truth. He’d used it as an excuse to escape this moment and found himself in a downhill spiral of denial and avoidance. 

“F-from us?” His throat was so dry, he could hardly find the courage to speak, afraid that when he did, it would truly be over. He wanted to tell you he could do better, that he hadn’t been himself these past few weeks, letting his fear of losing you cloud his judgment, but he couldn’t find the strength to do it knowing you were right to ask for a break. 

“From studying!” You lightly pushed his shoulder with a chuckle, a bit taken back by his assumption. Your smile slowly faded as concern returned to your face. Had this been why he’d thrown himself into all these books? Did he want to end things with you?

“I-I know (Y/N). I know I haven’t exactly been the best boyfriend lately and I truly am sorry for that,” he said, taking the second chance the universe had granted him to try and make things right with you. By Merlin’s grace, you hadn’t broken up with him and he knew if he was that scared of losing you, he had to do something to change how he was treating you. “But these exams, they will determine our entire future! They’re important!”

“You’re important Sev! You can’t keep pushing yourself like this,” you argued back, hoping to knock some sense into him and help him let go of whatever was driving him to act this way at least long enough to unwind a bit. “You need to take a break every once in a while.” 

You smirked as you moved your hand from your lap to his, slowly sliding up his leg. Severus rose a brow at you, unsure about your advances until he felt you cup him over his trousers. His eyes widened as he jumped out of his skin, quickly grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand off of him, only to be reminded you were a Slytherin for a reason. With your free hand, you slipped two fingers beneath his trousers before he tore you away from him once more. 

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!” he asked in a hushed voice, his face burning red, hoping no one was around to see that smirk on your face while he was holding your wrists in the air like he was just about to push you against the bookshelves and claim the entire library as your own personal make out room. 

You said nothing as you pressed your lips to his, smiling as you kissed him. Severus jerked back, but you were persistent, keeping yourself interlocked with him as he kissed back and finally began to ease up on the tension he held, slowly letting go of your wrist to lean into your kiss. He turned towards you and held you by the waist as you kissed him, your own hands subtly returning to his body. You did your best to distract him, one hand pulling on his tie as the other fell down to his lap. You could tell he’d lost himself in you as he usually did when he deepened the kiss, giving you the opportunity you needed to cautiously slither your fingers over his bulge. For a brief moment, you thought Severus had finally seen it your way and taken the chance to indulge in the moment when he moaned only to be stripped away from such hope as he broke your kiss and brushed your hand away. 

“Severus, relax. No one ever comes to this corner of the library.” You needed him to trust you, to let you help him take a break for once because you weren’t sure how much more strain your relationship could take if he kept pushing you away like this, claiming the exams were more important. “Trust me and just let go.”

Severus found himself enchanted by your words, sweet whispers of lust and devotion, all meant for him and him alone. His eyes softened as his shoulders dropped, letting you place your hands over his arms, your lips trailing soft, sensual kisses along his jawline. He looked over your shoulder and down the only corridor leading to your forbidden corner, his hands holding your waist as you got closer to him. His gut told him to keep watch, worried you’d get caught and banned from the library forever, but his heart, his mind were with you and how good your lips felt against his skin, sucking on his neck, leaving small love marks as your fingers lost themselves in his hair.

His breath thickened, a small whimper escaping his throat as he gave into your seduction. With one hand firmly gripping your waist, the other slid up your side, resting on the side of your breast. You moaned with delight when you felt him accepting the idea of a well deserved break and pulled on his hair just enough to encourage him to continue. Eagerly, he cupped your breast over your uniform, kneading it in his hand as you continued your quest to ease his stress. With your free hand, you slowly slid it down his chest until you’d found the outline of his cock. Severus bucked into your hand as he squeezed your tender breast, feeling a spark ignite within him. He held himself back, suppressing the need to let go as he reminded himself where you both were.

It had been so long since he’d felt like this, free from the stress, from the pressure of school. It had been so long since he’d felt this close to you. Your relationship had never been defined so physically, neither of you relying on the sexual passion between you when it came to the love you had for one another. When you’d started dating, he knew he’d never let your relationship end up that way, partially afraid of his own physical abilities and partially as a reminder of why he fell in love with you in the first place. But he’d forgotten how good it felt to trust you completely, to let himself be yours for just a brief moment. He forgot how unwinding it was to mindlessly lose himself in your caring touches, your soft kisses and tender words. 

“You’re so brilliant Sev,” you whispered to him between kisses, loving how he always fell apart at the compliments you’d give him in such heated moments. “You’re the most talented Wizard I know and I’m so proud of the person you are, the achievements you’ll make.”

You spoke like you were predicting the future, knowing all Severus needed was to realize there was someone who truly believed in him. He only ever threw himself into his studies like he did the past few weeks when he was feeling discouraged and abandoned. You’d hoped when you got together that he’d never feel that way again and it was true for the first two years. But it seemed the pressure of graduation and the idea of building a future affected him more than you’d realized and you didn’t notice until he’d buried himself in books and parchment. 

You’d made yourself a promise that day you’d finally shared your first kiss, one you intended to keep now until the end of your days; you’d never let Severus feel alone or unappreciated again. And indeed, you’d kept that promise today as you felt him through his trousers, his mind completely off the need to study until he passed out. You could feel his arousal growing as he tightened his hold on you, feeling as much of you as he could until you found him pushing you off him once again. 

For a moment, you thought you’d completely failed and was about to grunt in frustration before you saw him quickly packing up his belongings like the library had just been set on fire. You relaxed in your chair as you watched him so eager to pack up. Crossing your legs, you made no notion of leaving, getting his attention as he stopped what he was doing to stare at you.

“We’re going somewhere private,” he stated, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he wordlessly commanded you to pack up your own belongings. A part of you wanted to tease him, to lightly protest and claim you already were in private, but your own need for him had grown sufficiently and you couldn’t wait to unbutton his shirt and watch him pull off his trousers for you.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you gathered your things and let Severus take your hand as he marched out of the library. He looked so focussed as you both made your way after what felt like an endless amount of stairs. Neither of you knew where you were going, all your past adventures usually taking place in the boy’s dorm when no one else was around, but with exams coming up, students were scattered all over Hogwarts, every corner scattered with books and endless rolls of parchment as everyone studied. Finally, you made it to a floor that wasn’t swarming with people, walking down a hallway that became less and less occupied until you began to near the end. Stopping near a tapestry that depicted the attempt of Barnabad the Barmy to teach trolls ballet, you both looked around, trying to decide where to go, Severus making his choice first and pulling you with him as he started walking down the hallway which you knew would only lead to more classrooms.

“No Sev, let’s go this way,” you told him, tugging him back as you pointed to the corner you’d never explored before. Severus however didn’t agree with your decision, pulling you back towards the hallway. 

“Are you mad? We’ll be lost for days if we go down there,” he claimed. You smirked, wondering if that was really so bad. It would at the very least give you both some privacy which is what you were currently looking for and if some tragic accident were to occur to his textbooks and they were tossed out the window, perhaps he’d finally take a proper break. 

“Wait Sev look!” You pulled him back and stopped to look at the wall where a door had suddenly appeared. Severus looked at you in shock, swearing it wasn’t there a moment ago. He didn’t stop you as you went to turn the knob, opening the door to what looked like a bedroom stripped straight out of the honeymoon suite at a fancy hotel. A large king-sized bed was standing in the middle of the room against the back wall surrounded by a sheer silver curtain. Candles were the only source of light in the room, floating around the ceiling, lower than the ones in the Great Hall. 

Without a second though, you ran inside, dragging Severus with you, closing the door once he’d entered. You put down your bag and looked around in awe, absolutely astounded that such a room existed in the castle. It felt surreal, like the room was alive, enchanted in some way to serve you in any way you pleased. Hogwarts was such an amazing place and you’d learned long ago never to take for granted what the castle had to offer, and this was no exception. 

You walked over to the bed, shedding your clothing along the way. You dropped your robes and removed your shoes and socks before you pulled back the curtains and took a seat on the bed, smirking at Severus as you removed your tie. You sighed as you got comfortable, staring him down and kneeling on the bed with legs spread wide, slowly undoing the buttons on your shirt. 

“(Y/N), don’t you think this is a little too-”

“Nope!” you protested before he could even think to finish that sentence. “Severus this is absolutely perfect and after these past few weeks, we both deserve some time off, just a few hours to relax. A release from all that stress.”

You shrugged off your shirt and tossed it to join the rest of your scattered belongings. Slowly you began to crawl to the edge of the bed, Severus hesitantly dropping his own schoolbag as he walked towards you. Your smile grew as you watched him remove his robes from off his shoulders. He took a seat beside you and began removing his shoes as you snuck up behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders. Slowly, you began to massage him, Severus leaning into you as he closed his eyes, smiling at how caring your touch felt. You watched him with content as he finally seemed at peace, nothing around him to remind him of the burden he’d created for himself, nothing but your love for him to fill the room. 

Slowly opening his eyes, he looked up at you, returning your smile before you gently pressed your lips to his. You took your time with this kiss, your lips completely in sync as he lost himself in your soft lips, his hand buried in your hair as yours slowed their motions and wrapped around his waist and shoulder. Without parting, he kept his hold on you as he crawled backwards onto the bed, leaning back and letting himself go as you took control, throwing your legs over him and settling atop his lap. Severus moaned as he dropped his free hand over your leg, slowly slipping it under your skirt. 

You finally parted, Severus pushing himself up as you sat, happily smiling at him. Tugging on his tie, you removed it from his neck before you helped him unbutton his shirt, quickly throwing it to the side, looking forward to the struggle of finding your clothing again when it was time to get dressed. Severus pulled you in by your waist as you pushed his hair over his shoulder, grinning with content before you began to pepper him with kisses. You pressed your lips everywhere you could reach as you buried your face between the crock of his neck, one arm thrown over his shoulder, your hand in his hair. Severus pressed you into him as much as he could, merging your bodies together before unclasping your bra, needing to feel as much of you as he could. 

Briefly parting from him, you happily relieved yourself of your bra, wasting no time pressing your lips to his, your bare chest against his, hands wrapped around one another so tightly. You grinned against his lips as you shifted in his lap, feeling his hard cock strained against his trousers. He definitely wasn’t thinking about those exams now. 

Breaking away, you slide your hand down his chest to feel him through his trousers, Severus leaning back as he let you explore him with a smile. He watched you intently as you moved off him and undid his belt, tugging on his trousers enough to release his shaft from its clothed prison. Your fingers gently wrapped around him, his breath held in anticipation, his heart raging against his chest as you slowly moved up his length only to stop at the head. You locked eyes with him, happily watching his torment as your thumb grazed his slit, smearing precum as you made small, slow circles. 

“(Y/N),” he moaned as he bucked his hips in desperation. His voice was caught in his throat, his mind barely able to form a thought as you slowly began to slide your hand down your shaft, your grip on him so loose, taking your time and twisting your wrist along the way. “Please.”

His whispered plea, was a moment you immediately committed to memory, never wanting to forget how easily undone he became from your touch. You were pleased with yourself and your mischievous spur of the moment plan to help him relax, grateful it ended like this with him squirming beneath you for your touch. 

“Please what?” you whispered back, keeping your pace steady as you waited for him to make his demands, knowing full well it didn’t matter what they were. You were in control and he was all too aware of that.  

“F-faster.” You could tell he was holding back the temptation to try and take mastery over you like he always did, but it was suppressed by his need to let go, something you were rather grateful to see. If this were any other time, you knew he’d tease you back or do anything in his power to keep his pride and hide the fact he’d completely submitted to you. But the stress of the last few weeks had truly gotten to him more than you knew. It was clear to you that at times, he needed someone to take control, to help him steer through life, someone to show him he was loved, that he mattered and was worthy of such a pure thing. 

Instead of adhering to his request, you dipped down and pressed your lips to the head of his cock, your tongue very gently licking up precum before you wrapped your lips around him. Severus became a moaning mess as you continued to tease him, taking your time as you sucked on the end of his cock. He bucked his hips in desperation, all his energy focussed on restraining himself, but he couldn’t help his growing need as you slowly stroked him, sucking him so gently. 

Satisfied with the groans of frustration he let out, you took him into your mouth as far as you could manage. Severus fell back on the bed with a thump, fisting the bed sheets beneath him as you set a slow even pace, bobbing your head and gliding your tongue on the underside of his shaft. You listened to every sound that came out of his mouth, your panties dampening at how lustful his moans were, how much pleasure was seeped off his tongue from your touches. Increasing your speed, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach, you heard him coming completely undone, doing his hardest to stay in control, but it had clearly been too long since his last release.

“I-I’m close,” he barely managed to mumble as his cock twitched in your mouth. With a pop, you pulled yourself off him and immediately, he regretted trying to warn you at all. He groaned as you sat up and leaned over him, stroking his hair as he rolled tumbled down off the edge of his climax. You felt bad for denying him his release, knowing he so badly needed it, but you couldn’t let the evening end just yet. You were just getting started and by the end of it, you were sure Severus would thank you. 

“What the bloody hell did you do that for?!” he blurted out, his eyes closed shut as he felt every muscle in his body tighten, his heart pounding so hard as he tried to focus on your fingers running through his hair rather than the agony he felt in his groin. 

It tore at you to hear him so upset, guilt growing in your chest from the weight of his words. You thought perhaps it was a mistake to pull away, but it was too late now. All you could do was hope to make it up to him and eventually give him the release he so very much deserved. You said nothing, fearing no words could sooth him now. You focussed your attention instead on comforting him as you continued to stroke his hair, your lips finding his jaw as you desperately kissed him. His breath slowed, his muscles relaxing as he felt you pour out your love for him. Staying in that position, you waited until he’d completely eased his hold on you without exchanging another word. 

Severus had almost wished he could spend the rest of the night cuddled in your arms, a small whine of protest slipping his tongue when you pushed yourself off of him. He watched you hop off the bed and begin searching the ground of your robes, removing your wand from them before setting it on the bed and smiling at him as you pulled on the waistband of your skirt. He found himself once again enchanted by you as you pulled down your skirt and panties, leaving you completely bare standing in front of him before you stepped forward and reached down to free him of the remaining clothing he had on. He felt that lustful spark reignited itself as you crawled back on the bed and watched you cast a protection spell before seating yourself in his lap, pushing him back to meet the soft cloud like pillows. 

He let out a groan of bliss, his hands sliding up and down your legs as he enjoyed the light pressure of your hands over his chest, your eyes burrowing into his. You leaned down and kissed him passionately, your tongue gliding against his bottom lip before you found yourself fighting for dominance, Severus submitting rather quickly as you explored the inside of his mouth. You knew what he was anticipating, and though the guilt from before still lingered, your mission to keep the evening as lengthy as possible remained your top priority. It seemed however, that despite Severus’ willingness to give up control, he was hoping to push your buttons enough to bypass any further teasing and give him what he wanted. As you kissed, you felt his hands exploring your body, one finding itself over your breast, squeezing and tugging while the other lay over your thigh, his thumb pressed to your clit and running circles over your dripping slit. 

You moaned into his mouth and felt him smiling in satisfaction, leading you to break the kiss in retaliation, grasping the hand on your thigh as you began rocking yourself over his hard cock. You slid across his length, eliciting a moan from him as his hands immediately went to your hips, pressing into them, urging you to go faster. You held back from giggling as you regained the upper hand, controlling his needs as your pussy rubbed against his cock. 

“(Y/N),” he begged in desperation, his eyes shut as he threw his head back, his brows furrowed with frustration. You loved hearing your name spoken in such a needing tone; a tone you knew he’d only speak for you. Planting your hands on either side of his head, you stopped your motion all together, Severus wide eyed as he wouldn’t dare blink and miss a second of this moment, his heart pounding with anticipation for what you would do next. 

Slowly slipping one hand down, you grabbed hold of his cock and lined it up to your entrance, slowly sinking down until you were completed seated on him, Severus moaning the whole way down as you held your breath. You both panted as you adjusted to the feeling, your warm dripping wet walls tight around him, his hard length filling you up to the hilt, fitting so perfectly inside you. Without warning, you began to move your hips, grinding yourself on him without pumping his cock, knowing it would drive him mad. Nothing could ever compare to the feeling of Severus filling you up as you rubbed your clit against his pelvis, the slightest movement sending waves of pleasure through you. But the first time you’d done this, Severus had flipped you over in frustration, pounding into you with such force and clearly that same thought crept to the forefront of his mind now as you continued to tease him, leading him to believe you were ready to spend the next ten hours prioritizing your pleasure before you’d consider letting him come. You continued to grind yourself until he couldn’t take it anymore, his grip on you so tight as he groaned in annoyance. 

“(Y/N), please,” he moaned for you once more, pleading for you to ride him and send him over the edge. He’d always loved your smile, but in this moment, he could truly see the mischief behind it, and it frustrated him to no end knowing you had complete control over his pleasure and his ability to feel release wash over him. 

“Please what Severus? You have to tell me what you want baby,” you said almost innocently, like you had no earthly idea what he could possibly want. 

“Please ride me. Let me come.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he made his demands clear. He was rarely ever so direct, his feelings hidden behind a barrier it had taken years for you to break down and you couldn’t lie, it felt good to have him beg for you like this.

“All you had to do was ask,” you whispered with a smile. 

Deciding he’d suffered long enough, you removed yourself from him, slamming your hips back down hard and fast. He’d been so good for you tonight, so compliant, even dragging you out of the library for privacy, earning him a well deserved reward. You began to ride him as fast and as hard you could, your breasts bouncing with every thrust, his moans filling the room as you panted from the friction between your legs. You felt the knot in your core tighten, threatening to snap as his cock reached deeper and deeper inside you with every thrust you made. 

Severus couldn’t keep his eyes off you, his mind entirely focussed on the pulses of pleasure he felt every time you slammed back down on his cock. His eyes flickered between your breasts and the sight of you taking him so fully. One hand eventually slid back up your body to grip one of your breasts, enjoying the moans you gave when he twisted and teased your nipples. He let out his own groans as his line of sight dropped back down to watch his cock appear and disappear inside you. It didn’t take long for him to feel his release building up, electing to opt out of warning you in fear you’d deny him his much needed orgasm again. 

It all happened so fast, Severus stopping his motions as he held your hips still, pressing them down on him, his cock pulsating inside you as he came. You were shocked and more than a little disappointed that your ride had been over so quickly, your own needs still not fulfilled as you watched him groan, his eyes closed, his release lasting longer than you’d seen before. 

“Severus!” you shouted, playfully shoving his chest, the frown on your face was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. You removed yourself from him and sat back as he planted his elbows behind him, looking up at you. He felt guilt and sadness seep into his chest as his high died down. He’d never felt so good in his life, the release you gave him one he was sure to remember but was it worth it if you were to be upset with him for not following the unspoken rules of the bedroom?

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, almost choking on his words, hoping you felt the sincerity in his apology. He knew it was wrong to have focused on his pleasure, neglecting yours, but in the moment, his cock begging for release, it was all he could think of. Grabbing hold of your thighs, he took you by surprise as he flipped you over, hovering over you as he stared deep into your eyes, apologizing with everything he had. “I can make it up to you.”

“You better,” you whispered, that warm look he gave you melting away any resentment you had towards him. His eyes always carried so much weight with them, reflecting a much older age than the rest of his body and you absolutely loved them. They were always the one thing that helped you decipher is emotions while charming you in times like these, coaxing forgiveness from you. Resistance was always futile, but you tried anyways, tried to remember not to let him off so easy, to make him earn forgiveness. Yet even in this moment, you found yourself completely enchanted by him, knowing if he asked to head back to the library right now, you’d oblige against your own wishes. 

You carefully watched him as he slowly leaned down, his lips meeting your chest, planting a kiss between your breasts before circling each one; a kiss placed on every side. You arched your back into his touch, your hands gripping his hair as your head was thrown back, your eyes closed. A cloud of lust enveloped you as he continued his path down, leaving a hand over your breast, very gently squeezing. Severus focused his full attention on you and the sounds you offered him as his lips found your hips, a kiss placed on each of them before he planted a final one right above your clit. You moaned with desire, your hips bucking before he used his free hand to hold you down. 

Severus couldn’t help but tease you as you did to him earlier, his tongue barely grazing your swollen clit as he sucked on your skin before slowly moving down. As he began to taste you, he pulled back and gave a light lick from your entrance to the end of your clit, the gasp you gave him exciting him further. Letting go of your breast, he hooked his arms beneath your thighs, lifting you up enough to give him full access as he began to lap up all the juices that had flown out of you, your moans music to his ears. Severus had only eaten you out once before, the pleasure you felt that day something you’d never forgotten, but this felt so different. He was more experienced and determined this time, he was confident as he sucked and licked your clit, his tongue teasing your entrance.

Every lick sent shivers through your body, your core aching for more when his tongue began to prod you. You felt his nose press against you, grinding into your clit as he pressed his tongue inside you. It didn’t feel nearly as fulfilling as his cock, but you loved the feeling he gave you now as he pumped his tongue in and out of you, flicking every which way as he pressed his thumb to you the nub between your folds. He ran circles in sync with his pumps and you couldn’t help but try and grind into him despite his hold on you. 

“More,” you moaned desperately, feeling a knot form as he moved his lips back up to suck on your clit. He pressed two fingers to your entrance and easily slipped them in, pumping you hard and fast. You moaned with every push, every lick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you, his fingers long enough to reach deep inside you. Hooking them as he pulled back out, you couldn’t help but squirm beneath him, that knot you felt threatening to snap with every move he made. 

Burying your fingers deeper into his hair, you gripped him tightly, eliciting moans of his own as he fastened his pace, wanting to feel you cum around his fingers, your juices spilling out of you more and more as he continued to please you. The faster he went, the more you could feel your release building up, bringing you closer to the edge, your nipples so hard, your clit throbbing from the stimulation. It only took a few more pumps to find your release, your insides exploding with pleasure as your walls collapsed around his fingers, his tongue lapping up all your juices. He slowed his pace and helped you ride out your high until your groans of satisfaction turned into soft, satisfied moans. He licked his fingers with a hum of his own, smiling as he crawled back up to you, kissing your lips and letting you taste yourself on his lips before rolling over to lay beside you. 

“Have I been forgiven?” He whispered with a smirk as you rolled over to meet his eyes with yours. You smiled in return and let out a soft sigh. Once again you found yourself completely enchanted by the look he gave you, so desperately needing your approval, to know he’d done right by you and repented for his mistake. 

“Always,” you whispered back to him as you brought a hand up to brush his hair away from his face. Severus gently captured your hand in his as you brought it down to his cheek, pressing it against his skin as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the afterglow surrounding you both in the magic room made just for you. 

“Good,” he mumbled under his breath, unable to bear the thought of disappointing you. He was beyond happy in this moment, your relationship feeling stronger than ever before, thankful you’d pushed him to let off some steam and take a break from studying. He was so beyond lucky to have you, he couldn’t imagine living a day without you and your care for him. “I love you.”

His eyes were so soft when he opened them again, whispering those three little words to you as he gave you the first genuine smile you’d seen from him in a while. You could tell he was content, that he hadn’t regretted running away from his studies with you and wasn’t thinking about leaving any time soon. Silence fell around you as you finally found him at peace with himself, a balance struck between self-care and responsibilities. Of course, you’d always be there for him to help when the scales tipped over, but for now, you took tonight as a win, a step towards your future together.  

“I love you too,” you whispered back, letting the room settle as your hand dropped to his chest. You cuddled into his side, his arms wrapped around you with so much love for you. No more doubts lay between you, nothing but trust and love remained in this room that you hoped would only be a template for your future, one where you shared a bed every night and a life every morning.

~

A/N: I’ve used the room of requirement before in the past for plot convenience and I really need to find new and creative ways to give them privacy 😅 

~

@sleepysnapesnake @darkthought15 @bush-viper-cutie @fluffymadamina @dracos-mudblood @mitchiesdungeon @severuslovebot @ravenhopeflyte54 @cuddlebunny0330 @flowerdementia

[forthehpfanboys]

Hush-Hush

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: After pestering  Ron about your romantic relationship for far longer than you anticipated, Your relationship with Ron was more than a mystery to his two friends, but one day, it comes tumbling out in the library, in the middle of the night, with a few witnesses.

Warnings: Swears, arguing.

Notes: I love Ron so much, oh and friendly Draco. And Slytherin reader. And I’m posting this at 4:35, so it isn’t the best.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

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You didn't even want to look at him, not in class, not in the corridors. You ignored his longing glances and his little notes during class. If he’d kept his promise, you would be sitting beside him, joking with his friends, not having a care in the world, but of course he didn’t. Ron had already made you more promises than you could count on both hands and he, somehow, managed to keep none of them. Almost every night he made a new empty promise. 

So, you sat across the dining hall, your nose stuffed in one of your favorite books to distract yourself from the big blue puppy dog eyes a table away. You turned the page, your eyes gliding across the words with ease. Your brain effectively blocked out the empty threats, loud laughs and extra noise of the cramped room. 

“I’m surprised you weren’t put in Ravenclaw.”

You barely casted the owner of the voice a three second glance before going back to your book. The body next to you let out a silent huff of annoyance before filling your empty cup with water. He never did like being ignored.

“If you’re gonna be petty, at least drink some water. I did warn you this was going to happen. His pride is higher than his squeaky voice.” The Slytherin next to you snatched the book from your hands before setting the glass in front of you.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Draco.” Your nose scrunched up, your eyes scanned across the room, almost on instinct, and rolled seamlessly over the pouting redhead. “I can handle myself.” You gave Ron a sneer, causing him to flinch. The sneer quickly vanished as your gaze moved down to your plate. Reaching forward, you grabbed your goblet of water and took a sip.

“Good boy.” Draco’s words had you close to spewing water all over the book and poor students in front of you. Instead, it slid down the wrong pipe, resulting in a coughing fit that had you seeing shooting stars behind your lids. “Now maybe you can actually talk to him?” Draco gave your back a few pats, pathetically helping you recover from the near-death experience.

“No. I’ve spent too many nights sneaking out with him and too many hours in hidden tunnels arguing over this shit.” Your nose scrunched up again at the idea of experiencing another fight, the words from the night before still echoing in your conscious.

You didn’t like saying Ron had many flaws, most of them were stereotyped or just gossip floating around, but this was one of, like, five. He was thick-headed. He hated losing, hated arguments, and hated losing arguments more. He was a redhead that was hot-headed and he could be a nightmare. Swearing, interrupting you, yelling- however, he never insulted you head on. Just the occasional ‘don’t be daft!’. 

Oh, and the topic of argument never really changed.

“So, you're going to break up with him? That’s… Well, as much as I hate the weasel, that might not be the best idea.” Draco held his hands out, palm side up, teetering his hands up and down, weighing the options. You watched him, now chin on your own palm, elbow on the table, eyes rolling. “I’d just talk to him.”

Your eyes moved from Draco’s silvery ones to Ron’s baby blues. A silent sigh left your body as he gave you a sad smile and a shy wave. He was doing that adorable thing where ears turn pink and it spreads across his cheeks and down to the tip of his nose. It wasn’t something he could control, but it was still adorable. 

“They’re gonna pick up on it. Seriously, you’re making it far more obvious than he would like, (Y/n).” He gave you a soft nudge in the arm. Naturally, your attention moved from the Weasley trying to get a smile out of you to the blonde at your side. You missed Ron’s smile dropping off his cheeks. “I won’t beg you to talk to him, but you really should. Sometimes, words speak louder than actions, (L/n).”

“Says the one who decided the best way to ask out Zabini was knocking him off his broom during practice.” You smirked, raising your eyebrows as your friend's cheeks quickly changed from the usual pale to pink. You couldn’t help but snicker at his flustered expression. It wasn’t easy to fluster Malfoy, especially when he knew he was one of three people that knew this secret topic.

“Shut up, this isn’t about me. Focus, (Y/n). Just ta-” He was cut off by Dumbledore announcing that breakfast was over. He let out a groan, his hand coming up to rub his temples. “Look, please just talk to him. I’m sick of hearing him cry and bitch and moan and whimper and whine about how he’s so touch deprived.” Draco stood up, sliding your book off the table and into his hands. “Now stop reading and comfort your idiot lion.” 

With a pat on your shoulder, he was following the rest of the Slytherin table out the colossal doors. You kept your eyes on his retreating figure until he got lost in the crowds. Soon enough, you were left alone, sitting idly by yourself in a huge dining hall. You watched the house elves come in and the food disappear, so you decided to find your way out. 

You were swimming in your own thoughts, eyes not fully seeing and ears not fully hearing. You didn’t want to break up with Ron, you loved the idiot, but he was absolutely terrified to tell people he was dating you. Not because he didn’t feel the same way, but rather because of your house.

Not like your home status, like money and all that jazz, but over your Hogwarts house. He didn’t want to face the shit he’d get from his brothers, family and both houses in question. Ron was more worried about you than him. He didn’t want you being bullied, being thrown off the quidditch team or targeted by Snape like every other Gryffindor out there.

As you were walking out, you passed the Golden Trio, who were all chatting and chuckling, until they noticed you. Then the chatter died down, and two scowls were directed in your direction.

“What?” Your voice was flat and unwavering. Your eyes flicked between emerald green and cocoa brown, completely avoided the baby blues right between them. “If you're gonna say something, do it now. I’m really not in the mood for more of your biased shit.”

When no one spoke up, you nodded your head and turned away. You missed your ginger boyfriend taking a step forward while you hurried down the corridor. However, you didn’t miss the not subtle ‘Ron, what are you doing?’ and a soft ‘nothing’ following after. You rolled your eyes hard enough you almost tripped on an uneven tile. 

They still didn’t know.

You stomped to your first class, ignoring the echoing footsteps a few feet behind you. You peeked over your shoulder and couldn’t help but let out a dramatic sigh. You ducked into transfiguration, hurrying over to an empty desk, claiming one of the last few empty seats. The trio that had followed you to class filled in after you, all three freezing at the sight of the desks. 

It was usually two students per desk, meaning one was going to have to branch off to sit next to you. Hermione offered to split off, but Ron beat her to the desk, setting his stuff down on top and sat on the bench next to you.

“(L/n).” He greeted, watching his friends move into the empty desk from his peripheral vision. The redhead was trying to play it off like you barely talked to each other and that only fueled your disgruntlement. 

“Weasley.” You responded, voice just as flat as before. You crossed your arms over the desk, hopefully signaling you weren’t in the mood for playful chatter during the class, but of course he didn’t pick up on it. 

“How was breakfast?” His voice was quieter, softer than before. He played with the quill that once sat at the top of the desk, watching the drops of ink land back into the well.  “I saw you talking with Malfoy.”

“Yeah?” You didn't even turn to him or show him a hint of a smile.

“Yeah.” Ron set the quill back in the ink before looking up at one of the many cages that surrounded the room. The silence that spread between the two of you quickly dispersed as McGonagall finally entered the classroom and started a cheerful good morning. She quickly slid into the lesson, the chalk effortlessly floating in the air as it wrote out the spells they’d be learning. 

You rested your cheek against your hand while your dominant hand scribbled away on parchment. Soon, the various animal sounds were accompanied by the sound of writing and you really couldn’t complain. It was a nice sound, but you noticed your boyfriend hadn’t even picked up his quill. Giving him a harsh nudge brought him back to reality, allowing him to catch up on the topics.

“You never answered my question.” Ron leaned over to whisper to you, still actively scribbling his notes. Granted they were messy, but if he could read it, who cared? “How was breakfast?”

“Fine, Ronald. It was fine.” You still didn’t turn to him or look at him. Like Draco, Ron didn’t like being ignored. He licked his lips before opening his mouth again. He knew why you were grumpy with him, but he was hoping his charming demeanor would shove the frustration away from you.

“Can you at least look at me? I miss your pretty eyes.” He tried to flash you a charming smile, but it quickly faded when you gave him an unimpressed look. He swallowed thickly, turning back to the front of the classroom. “Sorry.”

You let out a sigh, glancing at the table to the right of Ron, accidentally meeting brown judgmental eyes that belonged to your boyfriend's friend. You faced the front quickly, letting out a sigh through your nose.

“Alright, I’m sorry for being sour. I have every right to be, ya know.” You whispered quickly, repeating the spell with the class after McGonagall, like she instructed. You brought your pointer finger to your mouth, nibbling on the skin next to your nail. It was a stress habit you had picked up recently.

“It’s ok, lovie.” Ron couldn’t help but smile, albeit a small one. He reached out, gently placing his hand on your knee. “I- hey, stop that.” He smacked your hand away from your lips, shooting a soft glare at you. “I know you're stressed. It’s gonna be ok.”

With a quick glance back at the table to Ron’s right from the corner of your eye, you gently moved his hand off your leg. When he opened his mouth to question what you were doing, you cut him off.

“They’re getting suspicious. I’ll meet you in the library tonight, usual time.” You tried not to smile at the enthusiastic nod he gave. And you especially tried not to nod when McGonagall called on him.

“So, Mr. Weasley, you do know the answer?” Her tone had a hint of judgement to it, and the sudden attention drawn to him had Ron’s cheeks brightening in color again. You almost snorted as he stuttered out a loud ‘n-no ma’am!’.

The classes dragged on from there, leaving you tired, frustrated and more touch deprived than ever. You were excited to have some time alone with Ron and prayed to Merlin that it wouldn’t lead to an argument. You wanted to lean against him while he read the Beedle the Bard stories- more specifically the Tale of the Three Brothers that he knew by memory.

The daydreams of being pressed against him while he read to you helped you get through dinner. You borderline sprinted through the halls, weaving through everyone to get up to your dorm. You grabbed a few books from your collection before you were running through all the halls again. Balancing the thick books against your chest, you pushed open the towering doors of Hogwarts library and hurried in.

“Ronnie?” You whispered, walking deeper into the dark room. Your eyes were naturally drawn to the faint light of a lantern illuminating from one of the many tables and figured it must be Ron. It was far past curfew to be anyone else. “Ron?” You called out, louder this time, weaving past the study areas and great book shelves.

“Over here, darling.” His distinct voice filled in the room, immediately putting you at ease. You quickened your pace, breathing heavily from the weight of the books. Once you made it to the table Ron had deemed his, you set the books down, wincing at the volume of the bang. “Merlin! What did you bring?” He teased, looking at each book title.

“What? They're just books. I know you can read, so I plan on extorting your vocabulary.” You smiled, slipping into the seat next to him. You reached for his hand, enjoying how his calloused skin finally eased the itch you’d been feeling for the past few hours. “Will you read to me?” The edges of your smile twitched downward when he broke out in a fit of giggles. “What?”

“First of all, that’s adorable.” His sideways smile and charming voice had you blushing under his gaze. “And second, we’re in a library. I’m gonna say the words again. We’re in a library. Why did you bring your books when we’re surrounded by them?”

“Because.. I did not feel like looking for them.” You stammered, nudging your boyfriend away from you when he wrapped an arm around the back of your chair and tugged it closer. 

“I have a feeling that’s not the real reason, dollie. Is it because my boyfriend forgot what a library was for?” His smug tone had your face turning a darker shade of red.

“Shut it, Weasley. Just read to me.” You stood up, ignoring Ron’s deep laugh. You effortlessly slipped out of his grasp and transfigured your chair into a medium sized bean bag for you and Ron to share. While you moved the bag against one of the book shelves, Ron regathered the books and the lantern.

He plopped onto the bag, enjoying how his body sunk into the middle of the bag. He set the books down next to him in a stack and balanced the lantern on top. Then, he opened his arms, allowing you to sit on his lap and lean back into him. He was able to wrap his arms around your waist and peer over your head, making this the best reading/snuggle position known to wizard or man.

“Pick your poison, (Y/n). What story do you want?” Ron kissed the back of your head before naming off the stories. 

“What about Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump?” You looked up at him, craning your neck to see his expression. His eyes gazed into yours before his tongue was poking the inside of his cheek. 

“You just wanna hear me say Babbitty Rabbitty and think it’s cute. Not gonna happen, cookie. Pick a different one.” He gave your stomach a pat of affection, his eyes twinkling in the lamp light.

“Fine, the Three Brothers, then. I knew you would end up picking that story anyway, it being your favorite and all.” You grumbled the last part, jokingly crossing your arms with exaggeration. He rolled his eyes, not that you saw, and began to tell the story, by heart, like usual.

The only unusual thing was his story telling kept getting interrupted by his own yawns, causing him to lose his place and nearly start the story over. He removed an arm from around you to rub his eye, trying almost desperately to stay awake. The ginger was so focused on staying awake he almost missed you speaking, but managed to catch the tail end.

“-like the brother who asked to hide from death, don’t you think?”

“Come again, love?” Ron ran his fingers through your hair, enjoying the way it moved with his hand. His grin matched his joy, easily, especially when he thought his amazing and talented boyfriend had a question about the story. However, he was no wear near ready for the curve ball coming his way.

“I was just saying maybe we.. We could actually sleep if we told everyone. We wouldn’t have to sneak around.”

“Not this again, (Y/n), come on.” he spoke, putting his hands on your waist and moving you forward on the bean bag, trying to signal you to stand. “We’ve talked about this dozens of times! I’m just not ready.”

“When will you be ready?” You stood up, turning toward him. While he thought over his reply, you ran a hand through your hair, foot tapping impatiently as tension filled the once related and happy room. He just pathetically shrugged his shoulders. “Ron, that isn’t an answer.”

“It isn’t fair for you to ask me to set a date to tell my friends I’m frisking with the enemy!” His frustration over the topic was quickly coming back, as it usually did. You, on the other hand, just felt pissed. Your jaw was hanging open in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry. ‘Frisking with the enemy’ might not be the term you're looking for. Would you like to try again?” You stood up, crossing your arms over your chest, this time with actual anger. 

“You know what I mean!” He shouted while struggling to leave the bean bag’s slippery grasp. “Damnit!” He grumbled through his teeth, effectively slipping and falling back into the soft chair.

“All I’m saying is that it’s just beneficial. We could be open! We wouldn’t have to stress about looking at each other too long or brushing shoulders in the hallway! We could be a normal teenage couple!” You didn’t think you were being unreasonable. 

“I thought you could let this go for one day!” Ron had finally stood up, moving around you to now pace in the empty library. He put his hands in his pocket, turning back to you again. “Just one day, let us, maybe, not fight.” 

“It isn’t my fault you don’t listen to reason.” You grumbled. Ron made a confused and almost betrayed sound.

“Me? Oh, no, darling. You’re the one that’s being all mental. Do you know what they’ll say about us? A Slytherin and a Gryffindor?” He pointed to you, then himself. “We’ll be a target for both teams. They’ll drag us apart and run us through mud!’

“Ronnie, I’m not asking you to wear a sign that says you're boning a Slytherin and share it with the whole school. Just our friends.” You ran your hand through your hair again. Your stress from the day was beginning to boil over. “You can’t keep  brushing this off like it’s not affecting either of us.”

“It isn’t! I’m perfectly content like this.”

“The bags under your eyes and the constant yawning say otherwise.” Running a hand down your face, you looked around at the empty library. You were sure Madam Pince was out, due to the fact that she would’ve already had a cow over the fact you both snuck in. “I..” Draco’s words from earlier were ringing in your skull all over again. You brought a finger to your lips without even realizing it and began to chew at the skin anxiously.

“What’s wrong?” Ron tried to keep the anger out of his tone, but he failed. It shined through like a dirty penny being whipped clean, exposing the shiny copper beneath the grime. “Is it something I did again?”

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this, Ronnie.” As you spoke, your nose began to sting while your eyes burned. You didn’t want to say it, and maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did. His face changed between a few dozen emotions before finally landing on confused. Ron took careful steps toward you, his eyes swirling with worry and fear. Fear of losing you. When he was close enough to feel the short breaths leaving your mouth, he grabbed your arms, giving you a soft squeeze.

“What do you mean?” His eyes bounced back and forth between yours, his arms squeezing a tad harder. “Do you want to break up with me?” His heart felt like it was caught in his throat. Once the words were out, you realized that was far from what you actually wanted. 

“No!” Your anger was making a sequel appearance in the argument. “I just can’t keep sneaking around! It hurts!” You didn’t care that you sounded like a child, it felt like everyone was waving a relationship in your face and you couldn’t do anything about it. 

“What do you want me to do? Stand up on a table and shout it out? I’ll do it!” Ron ran over to one of the few tables not crowded by carbon copies, putting one foot on a chair and the other on the top of the oak polished. He easily put all of his weight on the table, flaring his arms out before allowing them to fall back against his legs.

“Ron, get down!” You whispered harshly, hurrying after him and tugging on his hands. You’d gladly tug him down and continue this argument anywhere else. “Please get down.” 

“Nope! Not until you stop being mad at me!” He crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the sting of his lip trapped between his teeth. The Gryffindor took a deep breath before he let out a sigh. His fingers tapped along the side of his biceps and his gaze moved to the old high roof of the library.

“I have every right to be mad at you! Now come down right now!” This time you tugged at his pant leg, a groan of frustration leaving your lips as he took a step back. The table creaked in protest, but both of you ignored it.

“No! If this is what I have to do to make sure we can keep staying together, then I’ll do it! Because you mean more to me than anyone in this school and I can’t afford to lose you!” He stomped his foot to emphasize his point. While he was doing his tangent, you made eye contact with some students who really should’ve been sleeping.

“Um, Ron?”

 “I really should say it more often but I love you! And-”

“Ron-”

“Don't interrupt me, lovie, I’m trying to save our relationship. And I should prove it more often too, so, tomorrow, I’ll stand up on the dining tables during breakfast and announce I have been dating (L/n) for the past year and that nothing can change that!” He tossed his head back, holding his arms out like a man feeling rain for the first time in a century. 

“Are you done now?” You watched him carefully, crossing your arms over your chest. Once his arms dropped to his sides again, he nodded his head. “Cool, cause they know.” Ron’s head snapped around the empty library before he turned around, seeing Harry and Hermione standing just a few feet behind the table he was standing on.

“Oh. Hi, guys. I thought um.. What aarre... Why?” He took a step back, effectively shifting the weight from the middle, resulting in the table tipping. With a shout, the ginger collided with the floor. You, Harry and Hermione flinched at the thud that echoed in the dead silent room. 

“Ronnie? You ok?” You walked over to him. You couldn’t help but snicker at the strawberry tint that covered his pale skin. You bent down, obstructing some of his view of the beautifully articulated ceiling, which he quickly brought up, hoping to cause his friends to forget about what they heard.

“Wow. They really put a lot of work in the detailing, huh? Brilliant! It’s truly fantastic. Is that oak?” He rubbed his head as he sat up, looking at the titled table. He looked up at his best friends before standing up, albeit clumsily. 

An awkward silence quickly fell over the room. Ron shifted his weight between his feet. You chewed on your nail. Hermione played with her hair. Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well? Are you going to explain yourselves?” Hermione spoke up suddenly. She put her hands on her hips, clearly not happy with the outcome of everything.

“Or we could just let them be. They seemed to be having a moment.” Harry spoke up, awkwardly putting his hands in his pockets and looking down at his shoes.

“Nonsense. You dragged me out of bed for this, Harry. I expect a full explanation.”

So, with that, Ron fixed the table, everyone sat down and the story of how your relationship with Ron morphed from enemies to lovers in a few years time. Both of his friends listened intently until the story was over. Hermione asked a few questions about some basic things, one of them being if that was why he was rubbing your knee earlier that day, but soon enough, the four of you decided it was late. After transfiguring the bean bag back into a chair and putting the lantern out, you split up, heading back to your different common rooms, but not without a kiss and a good night from Ron.

The next morning came quickly and Ron was waiting by the entrance to the dining hall. He had woken up early, despite the few hours of sleep he’d gotten from the night before. Talking to his best friends about his secret boyfriend went far, far deeper into the night than he’d expected. So, here he was, waiting patiently for them to show up so he could keep his promise.

He nodded to his brothers and their friends, and his sister and her friends, before his own finally came trotting along. His heart physically fluttered when he saw Harry, Hermione and you, not just walking side by side, but joking and laughing. He bit his lip to try to prevent his smile from growing too wide.

“Hey guys!” He called out, ignoring everyone in the hall and rushing over. This time, he didn’t hesitate to grab your hand, even going as far as kissing your knuckles. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning or blushing over the simple affection, and you felt the touch starved itch disintegrate inside of you slowly.

“Hey, Ron.” Hermione chimed in, catching her breath from laughing.

“Good morning, mate. Ready for the big day?” Harry asked, nudging Ron in the side.

“As ready as I can be.” He replied with a grin, shooting your confused expression a wink.

“What are you guys goin’ on about?” Your eyes danced between Harry’s and Ron's, that seemed to have an invisible way of communication that you were quickly becoming jealous of. 

“Nothing, prince. I’ll tell you while we eat.” Ron casted you his mischievous grin while getting the door and was hoping Merlin you couldn’t see the nervousness in his eyes. When you walked in, you instinctively began to head over to the now waving Draco, ready to tell him the news, but the hood of your robe was grabbed and you were being dragged to the Gryffindor table.

You were sat down and Ron was scuttling up to the teachers table, but before long, he was coming right back to the table to sit next to you. Except, he didn’t sit, he stood behind you, fixing your robe.

“Seriously, Ron, what are you doing?”

“Nothing, bunny, just relax.” He kissed your head, shooting you another wink. “I just want to keep my promise from last night.” Before what he said could even click in your head, he was climbing onto the Gryffindor table, grinning down at you. “Oh, and before I forget, or get buried alive by my family, remember that I love you, yeah?” All too suddenly, he was whistling to catch everyone in the dining halls attention and he was dramatically clearing his throat.

Why McGonagall let him stand on a table and talk for almost fifteen minutes about how he was dating a Slytherin, you still don’t know, but you couldn’t help but smile up at him as he ranted about your gorgeous smile and your perfect hands and shiny eyes to the entire school.

And, of course Draco started chanting ‘kiss! kiss! kiss!’ after his speech was done.

[darthkruge]

Can we have some dad ani x mom reader where leia goes to her first date with han and Anakin is so overprotective till the reader talks some sense in him?

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Family

Summary: Anakin goes into Dad Mode when Leia is going on her first date with Han and the Reader helps him realize he’s being a tad overprotective. 

Warnings: Slight language, Anakin being overprotective, Reader being amused by Anakin’s antics, the usual (by that I mean fluff)

Words: 1.4k

A/N: Omg of course! I love Dadakin and so yes I think yes <3. I know you asked for mom!reader but I tried to keep it gender neutral, I hope that’s okay! Also I really thought I’d mess this up horribly but I’m kind of… happy with it?? Shocking, I know. Also I’m sad because mans deserved a family smh. I didn’t know what to title this for the life of me but it’s okay.

gif credit (x) (he looks so freaking pretty i cannot cope)

“Nope, not happening!” Anakin said, pacing around your Coruscant apartment.

“Dad, please!”

“No!” 

Leia groaned, looking to you for help. “Please tell him he’s being ridiculous!”

You nodded towards your daughter knowingly. “Anakin, come on, she’s old enough, it’s fine!”

“Y/N, no! Have you seen the guy? He looks like he’d… I don’t know… leave his fingernail clippings in the bathroom or something! Or not tip after going out to dinner because he had to keep his singles ready for the strip club!”

You snorted at your husband's comments, watching him walk a hole into your floor as your daughter helplessly ran her fingers through her hair.

“You can’t just make the decisions for me! You’re supposed to trust me! I like him, I have good judgment. This isn’t fair and you know it!” Leia’s anger was palpable as she spoke, her words sharp. 

Anakin’s eyes softened. “Look, Leia, I know you like him. But I know guys like him, he’s bad news. You’re not going.”

Leia looked like she was about to scream so you decided this was a good time to intervene. “Ani, come talk to me in the kitchen please?” You said, basically dragging him by the arm. 

“Y/N, come on. Are you seriously considering letting her go out with him?”

“Yeah! I am! Anakin, we can’t protect the kids forever! Listen, I’ve seen him interact with her, he’s different. He’s kinder, sweeter. I don’t know, I just think we should let her do this.”

“But he’s a notorious asshole!”

You conceded. “I’ve heard. But still! Look, Leia’s a good kid, she’s logical, and she can definitely hold her own if he’s shitty. And don’t you think we should try not to judge until we meet him ourselves? Besides, on the off-chance this date is a mistake, isn’t it better she finds out now when she still has us to help her feel better afterwards? I don’t want our daughter to be so sheltered that she’s unprepared later in life.”

Anakin nodded, running his hands up and down your arms. “I know, my love. You’re right. It’s just hard for me to see her growing up, I don’t want her to get hurt. I’m her father, I’m supposed to protect her and I just- if this Han Solo idiot messes with her it’ll be my fault.” 

You cupped your husband’s cheeks in your hands. “Listen to me, Ani. You can’t protect everyone, especially not from their own decisions. You have to let her do this.”

Anakin, dramatic as always, groaned and threw his head back before finally meeting your gaze again and nodding. He put his hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to the living room where your daughter was anxiously waiting. Her head perked up as the two of you walked in.

“You can go, sweetheart.” You said, gently.

“Really?! Thank you!!” Leia ran up to you and hugged you. You squeezed her back. Even though you were less protective about dating than your husband didn’t mean that you liked the idea of her going out with some guy that had a rocky reputation, at best. 

Leia broke away from you and walked up to her father. “Thank you, Dad.”

Anakin hugged his daughter close. He would do anything for his family and loved all of you more than life. You smiled at the scene in front of you. Watching your husband interact with your children was one of your greatest joys. 

Hearing someone knock at the door, you all broke apart.

“Okay! Bye!” Leia said, moving to leave.

“Wait, wait, wait! We need to at least see this young man before your date!” Anakin said, moving to open the door.

As he saw Han leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in a very cocky manner, it took every ounce of power he had to not slam the door in Han’s face. You smirked at your husband’s expression and moved to let Han inside. 

“Han!” Leia said as Han ran up to meet her.

“Hey, princess,” He said, picking her up and spinning her around. 

You looked up at your husband’s face, seeing his jaw ticking slightly. You laughed and gestured for him to lean down. “Okay but you have to admit, that was cute” You whispered in his ear.

Anakin let out a small huff but you could tell he agreed. He just put his arm around you and cleared his throat. “Home by 11, okay?”

“Home by midnight?” Leia asked hopefully.

“Fine, okay. Midnight, but not a minute later!” Anakin said. You chuckled. He was a sucker for her; he couldn’t say no and you all knew it. 

Han nodded at you and Anakin and Leia waved as they stepped outside, and then they were off. Anakin immediately bolted over to the balcony, craning his head.

“Anakin what the hell are you doing?”

“Shh! I’m trying to see which way they’re going so I know which route to take.”

“Which route to take?”

“Yeah! When I go follow them.” He said, as if it was the most normal thing ever.

“Anakin!”

“What?”

“You can’t go follow them!”

“Like hell I can’t!”

“Anakin Skywalker if you ruin this date for our daughter I will divorce you faster than you can say ‘lightsaber’” 

“But Y/N-” 

You cut him off, laughing slightly as he pouted at you. “No! Love, come on inside, let’s have dinner and watch something on the holoprojector while we wait for her to get back, okay?”

Anakin sighed, nodding in agreement. You shook your head, smiling as you took his arm and walked back inside. Instead of moving to the kitchen, Ani plopped both of you on the couch, taking a moment to just think about how lucky he was.

“Thank you for caring about our family, Ani” You said softly, breaking the silence.

“Always, angel. You really think it’ll go well?”

You thought for a moment. “Maybe. And if not, that’s not something we can control. Now can we please go eat before you come up with another crazy idea, like dressing Ahsoka up in a disguise to go and pretend to be their waitress?”

“Now that you mention it, that’s actually-”

You shut him up with a kiss. Anakin gently bit your bottom lip, asking for access which you happily granted. He shifted you so you were sitting atop his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. His tongue slowly entered your mouth and you moaned softly at the feeling. You were completely entranced by him and loved every moment of it. 

“How did I get so damn lucky?” he asked as you broke away. 

“I’m not sure. But I am pretty special, aren’t I?” You smirk.

He looked at you with adoration. “Yeah, you are.”

The two of you spend the night eating food and end up curled back on the couch, enjoying each other’s company and the cool breeze. Finally, the doorbell rings and your heads perk up.

You were surprised to see Han still with Leia, not expecting him to walk her to the door. The two of them were smiling at each other and you couldn’t help but smile back. From the corner of your eye, you saw Anakin’s lips were curling up, too. At the end of the day, all you wanted as parents was for your children to be happy. 

“Goodnight, princess.” Han said.

“Goodnight, scoundrel!” Leia shot back at him, turning away to walk inside. 

You waved goodbye to Han before slowly shutting the door and looking at your daughter. 

“So you’re dating scoundrels now?” You said, eyebrows quirked.

Leia rolled her eyes. “Proudly.” 

You laughed. She definitely picked up the sarcasm from her parents. 

“Did you have fun?” Anakin asked.

“What, no third-degree?”

“What, would you like an interrogation?”

“Nope! Thanks!” Leia said quickly. “It was… it was good. I have a feeling about him. It was exciting, you know?”

You smiled, thinking back to one of your first dates with Anakin. He took you out on his speeder and you swore you were going to die. Even so, it was the most alive you’d felt in a long time and you knew that if someone could give you that feeling, they were a person you needed to get to know more. “Yeah, I know, sweetheart. I’m glad you had such a good time! Now, get ready for bed, okay? It’s already pretty late.”

“Okay, okay,” Leia said, still pretty giddy from the evening. As she disappeared to her room, you turned back to your husband.  

“That went pretty well, don’t you think?” Your tone was light, teasing. 

Anakin nodded. “Alright, yeah, don’t go gloating about it too much.”

You laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

-----

the link to join my taglist is in my pinned! if your username is crossed out, that means that for some reason i couldn’t tag you. please dm me if you would like to be taken off <3

permenant tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @astxrias @beiroviski @captainshazamerica @alyssa-skywalker 

[wowitsel]

meeting the team

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

masterlist

Summary: You and Spencer have a big age gap, and when you meet the team, they have some things to say.

Fem! Reader

Word count: 1.5k

WARNINGS: age gap relationship (13 years), arguing

Category: angst to fluff

As you close the clasp on your necklace, you’re finally all dressed and ready for dinner with your boyfriend’s infamous team. You and Spencer had been dating for 7 months, although both of you had been very hesitant to let each other meet the important people in each other's lives, because of the obvious age difference between the two of you. With him being 33, and you being 20, there was bound to be some judgment from some people. Because everything went relatively smooth with your friends and family, you were feeling pretty confident heading into this dinner.

As you walk out of your shared room, you see Spencer standing near the front door, holding the car keys in his hand. He silently hands them to you while he says, “Can you drive? Please bub?”

“Fine, but you owe me. You know you're not the only one who hates driving.” You replied as you kiss him on the cheek and rush out the door.

“Well then, thank you, sweetie. Now hurry! We’re going to be late!” He tells you.

You chuckle at him, get in your car, shut the door, then start driving.

+++

You finally arrive at Rossi’s “mansion”, a whole five minutes late. You were not fazed by this, but it was safe to say that Spencer was. You moseyed out of the car, not in any rush, but then he nearly shouted, “C’mon! We’re already late Y/n!”

“Hey, calm down Spence. I’m sure we’re not the only ones late.” You said to him, but it was safe to say that you were very wrong.

+++

When the two of you walked in the door, you saw all the people that Spence had told you about, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, and Alex Blake. All the eyes were on you.  And you knew exactly why. Your age gap wasn't exactly a secret, seeing as you looked around your own age, but you had assumed that Spencer had told them about it.

“Welcome, Reid! And umm…” David Rossi said as he struggled for a name.

“Uh, It 's Y/n.” You said awkwardly as you went to go sit down at the table.

“Well I’m David Rossi, It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, I know… Spencer told me all about you guys.”

You could cut the tension with a knife, but nevertheless, JJ propositioned you and Spence, “So, Spence, Y/n, do you two want some wine?”

When Spencer declined, everyone was quick to comfort him, remembering his past with addiction, but then you had to decline: “Umm no thanks. I’m underage”.

“Don’t you think you’re too young for Reid?” Morgan inquires.

“You can’t even drink yet. Are you sure you should be dating him?” Hotch asks.

“Shouldn’t he be with someone closer to his own age?” JJ questions.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the questions, you burst out, saying, “Hey! I’m 20, not 16, I'm plenty mature, and I’m not some teenager who will always act irrationally.”

“Actually babe, the prefrontal cortex, which deals with emotional reactions, isn’t fully developed until 25-” Spencer stops when he sees the look on your face.

There is an overwhelming silence that ensues until Blake decides to break the ice, and try and diffuse the tension: “So, Y/n, where do you go to college?” Assuming that you went to college because of your age.

“Actually I didn’t go to college.” You reply.

You take a deep breath, and then begin to go on a long rant about the elephant in the room: “Listen, I can hear what’s going on inside all your guys’ heads right now. And I get it. You’re thinking, ‘How wrong could this girl be for Spencer Reid? She’s 13 years younger than him, and doesn’t have any fancy degrees.’ And you're right about all those differences. But you’re wrong about me being wrong for him. Yeah, I may only have a high school degree, but I’m smart enough to know what Spence needs, and It’s me, and I also know what I need, and It’s him. So think what you want about our age gap, but we love each other, and nothing you do, can stop that.”

The room seemed like a sauna, seeing as you were fuming, steaming with anger. You quickly pushed your chair back, and stormed out of the room, heading to your car. You knew you were being childish, and overdramatic, but you couldn't help yourself. You knew that you were just proving their point, but that didn’t change anything. You just sat there and sulked in the car, until you heard the door open.

Spencer came and sat down in the car, and you two just sat in silence, which he then broke when he said, “You know we have to talk about it eventually right?”

“Yeah, I know. Just sit with me here for a while.” You sighed out.

+++

When the two of you got home, you both got ready for bed, and then, had some serious pillow talk.

“I’m sorry for all of that at dinner, bub. I was just so angry and emotional. I guess that just proves their point.” You admitted to him.

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. They were the ones out of line. You were right.”

“Thanks, Spence.” You told him with a small smile.

“What happened after I left?” You inquired.

Having an Eidetic memory, he recited exactly what he said to the team after you had left:

“Are you guys kidding me? I finally bring my girlfriend to meet you guys and all you do is berate and integrate her? I love that girl. She understands me. She knows what I need, even when I don’t even know. And she does this without being a profiler. She’s just that amazing. Yes, we may have thirteen years between us, but that means nothing to me. Did you guys even notice how much happier I became 7 months ago? Did you even care enough to notice? You guys have to learn that you don’t know everything about me and my life.”

After he told you what he said, you were sort of shocked. Spencer was never the person to loudly lash out in anger. Granted, he wasn’t the best at hiding his emotions, but when angry, he tended to be more serious and quiet than loud.

He told you, “I just got so mad at them, bub. You are my life and my everything. I just wanted them to like you, but then they were being so rude to you, baby, I couldn’t handle it.”

“How did the team react? You curiously asked.

“They were pretty shocked, I’d say. It was out of character for me, I guess.” Spencer replied while running his fingers through your hair.

“Well thanks for defending me. I love you” You said as you slowly drift off to sleep.  

Spencer looks down at you sleeping and smiles to himself. He is reminded why he said all those things to his team and is reminded of just how amazing and happy you make him feel. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, before drifting off, himself.

+++

The next day you decided you were going to bring Spencer lunch, you knew that you would have to face the team, but you and Spencer desperately need the time together.

As you walked into the BAU headquarters, you felt a sense of dread upon you. But that all went away when a certain Penelope Garcia saw you. She rushed over to you, pulled you in a hug, and profusely apologized for everything that had happened last night.

“I am so sorry for last night. You seem like such a nice girl, and aghhhh I can't believe we said those things. I’m so sorry, again.” Penelope blurted out.

“Hey, It’s ok. It’s not like it was you were the one saying those things right?” You replied very wearily.

“Yeah… well, either way, I am so sorry!”

You then see Spencer at his desk and decide to head over there, but before you can, the rest of his team corners you, and bombards you with apologies.

“Hey, I'm really sorry about that.”

“You didn’t deserve any of that”

“You really make Reid happy, and that's all I really want”

Those were some of the many things that you heard. You weren’t sure what to do. You weren’t sure if you could forgive and forget. But then something in you clicked, and you knew what to do.

“You know, I was really upset, but you guys are Spence’s family, so I really want to get along. So why don’t we start over?” You said as the team looked at you, a bit confused.

“Hi! I’m Y/n. Dr. Spencer Reid’s girlfriend.”

+++

So, from that moment on, the team made it a priority to get to know you, for who you really were, not just from their predispositions about you.

It was going well. And everyone was happy.

[alphadaddyderek]

Not all math puns are awful, just sum (sterek fic, high school au)

ao3 link: click if you dare

summary: ’what is the probability that anyone will pass this fucking class? I’m thinking 1 in 100’

Stiles shakes his head because that was such a bad math joke that it was actually kinda funny. And, based on the expressions on people’s faces during class, also very true.

'i think there is statistical data to back up your theory’

AU where Stiles and Derek have to share a textbook and they write terrible math puns back and forth to each other.

Stiles sincerely, genuinely, regrets taking AP classes.

Well, kinda.

They would look great on his resume. Colleges wouldn’t even second guess accepting him and he would receive so many scholarships which would help his dad big time.

AP classes will also raise his GPA crazy high which, again, looks great to colleges.

Sometimes they just suck.

His AP Statistics class is definitely #1 on the ‘classes that suck straight ass list’.

It’s boring and it can be kinda hard. Plus it’s math so it’s automatically gross.

Stiles is good at math, but it’s not his forte, that’s more Lydia Martin’s thing.

Anyway, Beacon Hills High had to have some budget cuts this year, like, serious budget cuts. The sports teams are lucky that people care about people throwing balls all over the place, otherwise they would’ve gotten cut too.

Since the school has had budget cuts, the students don’t get individual textbooks anymore. Meaning, that they can only use it during class and then they have to leave it in the classroom for the next class to use.

So, yeah.

It’s the third week of junior year, AP Stat is as boring as always. He has Lydia to talk to sometimes but she has other friends in the same class, so he's not always entertained.

The teacher didn’t really care about whether or not students did the work, he just played chess on his computer the whole class anyway. He gave the page number that we were supposed to work on and that was that.

Stiles prefers that to lectures, but still. When he’s done the work there’s nothing left for him to do. He could go on his phone, but even that gets boring eventually.

What he’s trying to say is that he’s bored, okay?

Turning to the page that the teacher assigned, Stiles is shocked and wildly amused, to already see writing on the margins of the page. He figured it would take at least half the school year before people started vandalizing the textbooks. Although, it’s written in pencil so it’s easily erasable.

When Stiles actually reads what was written he snorts. Luckily, it’s loud in the class so the most attention he gets is when Lydia shoots him a weird look which he ignores.

'what is the probability that anyone will pass this fucking class? I’m thinking 1 in 100'

Stiles shakes his head because that was such a bad math joke that it was actually kinda funny. And, based on the expressions on people’s faces during class, also very true.

Should he write something back? Stiles doesn’t know if the person who wrote this is hoping for a response, or if they wrote in the book because they’re just as bored as Stiles is.

Eh, fuck it. Why not?

'i think there is statistical data to back up your theory’

Stiles snickers at his equally bad math joke before finally deciding to focus on the actual work. He didn’t want to be one of the ones who didn’t pass the class, because that would suck. So he does the work and for the remainder of the class he lets out a giggle or two every once in a while because even though he’s 16 years old, he apparently still has the sense of humor of a child.

π π π

It’s the next class and honestly, Stiles kind of forgot about the writing in the textbook. After he left that class he went to AP Geography where there was immediately a test, which he nailed by the way. Plus, with all his other classes, he just didn’t think it was important to remember a bad, but still funny, math joke in a textbook.

The teacher assigns them another page number full of questions to work on. And, just like last time, there’s writing in the margins.

‘i’m sorry, that was pretty mean of me to say’

That one has Stiles laughing out loud. Not too loud though, because he doesn’t have that much of a death wish. He just laughs loud enough to make Lydia send him another weird look, except this time Lydia questions him about it.

“What is so funny?” she asks, twirling her hair with her pencil.

Stiles shakes his head. “Nothing really. Just somebody writing lame math jokes on the book pages.”

“Well, you’re laughing at them. So doesn’t that make you lame as well?”

Stiles dramatically gasps.

“Wow, Lydia, that was pretty mean of you to say,” Stiles replies before bursting into more laughter.

At this point, Lydia is looking at him like he has brain damage but he really can’t bring himself to care. It’s hilarious and if she doesn’t think so then oh well. Her loss.

Well, she doesn’t know that that was the joke inside the textbook, but still, whatever.

It’s funny.

π π π

By this point, it’s kind of like Stiles and this unknown jokester are pen pals.

It’s been a week filled with terrible math jokes and Lydia probably losing more and more respect for him as the days pass.

He’s told Scott about his little pen pal and of course, Scott doesn’t really get it, but he’s supportive nonetheless.

It’s a Friday night and Scott is at Stiles’ house. They’re playing video games and eating so much pizza that Stiles will be bloated for an entire week.

Thankfully, his dad is on the night shift, otherwise, he would be heavily judgmental of Stiles’ life choices.

After several rounds of Mario Kart, they take a break to eat said pizza and talk a bit.

“So,” Scott takes a huge bite of his slice. “how are you and your math buddy doing?”

Stiles takes a bite of his own slice. “Why are you asking? Jealous?”

Scott laughs. “Oh yeah, I’m so jealous. Please, Stiles, make terrible math jokes with me.”

Stiles flips Scott off. “You only mock because you really are jealous.”

Scott rolls his eyes and then the topic is dropped.

At least for the next hour or so. Then after that, it gets brought back up.

“Do you think it’s weird to have a crush on someone you’ve never met?” Stiles asks, playing with a loose thread on his jeans.

Scott looks at Stiles, and Stiles does not want to see the weird look Scott has on his face so he continues looking down.

“You have a crush on this person?”

Stiles shrugs. “I don’t know. They’re funny, and obviously, they’re smart if they’re in AP Stat. I would like to meet this person though, maybe. I don’t know.”

Stiles feels his cheeks heating up.

Scott nudges Stiles with his elbow. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not weird at all. It’s kinda like online dating, but like medieval style.”

Stiles can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his throat. “What?”

It’s like medieval style! ‘Cause, it’s in a book. Instead of online.”

Scott is always able to make Stiles feel better, no matter the situation. His goofiness especially lightens his mood.

“Okay, Scott. Are we going to go jousting next?”

“I don’t know. What you guys do on your first date is none of my business,” Scott says with a sly smile.

Stiles snorts and grabs a pillow off the couch behind them and smacks Scott in the face with it, resulting in a pillow fight ensuing.

And if anybody asks, Scott did not win. He didn’t!

π π π

2 weeks after he and Scott had that talk, Stiles continues talking with his pen pal. Although, maybe Stiles is looking too deep into this, but it kind of seems like flirting now?

Hear him out.

In the margins, the person started adding smiley faces and winky faces after every message.

Ooh and they actually put their initials! D.H.

Stiles doesn’t think he knows anyone in school with those initials. Granted, Stiles isn’t exactly a social butterfly so he’s not doubting their existence at all.

AP Stat only has 5 minutes left in the class. Stiles has already embarrassed himself in front of Lydia more times than he can count, so he decides to ask Lydia if she knows someone with those initials.

She purses her lips. “Why do you ask?”

Stiles sighs inwardly before answering. “Uh, well. I was just...wondering. Ya know. Trying to expand my friend circle.”

Lydia raises an eyebrow. And Stiles sighs outwardly this time.

“Fine. You know the jokes that were in the book?”

“You mean from like a month ago?”

“Well...we’ve kinda been continuing to exchange jokes and notes and stuff. And then recently they put their initials. Or, at least I think it’s their initials. I don’t know what else it would be. So, yeah.”

Lydia looks at him for a moment before her lips curl up into a smile. “You mean you’ve finally found someone who has a worse sense of humor than you?”

Stiles returns the smile. “I’ll have you know, my sense of humor is advanced. Way too advanced even for you.”

“Uh-huh. Anyway, the only name that comes to mind is Derek Hale.”

Stiles chokes on his own spit. “Derek Hale? You mean the star of the basketball team? The guy with eyes that are like fifty different colors and bunny teeth that would look ridiculous on anyone else but he somehow looks gorgeous with them? That Derek Hale?”

“Yes. Other than that, I don’t know anyone else with those initials.”

“Does he take AP Stat?”

Lydia shrugs. Stiles takes that as a no.

There’s no way that Derek Hale is the one writing these notes. No way in hell. Stiles isn’t that lucky.

Plus, even if Derek is the one writing these, hypothetically speaking, Derek wouldn’t be interested in him. Don’t get Stiles wrong, he knows he’s a pretty attractive guy. But nobody in this school is as attractive as Derek Hale. Let's be real here.

Okay, maybe Danny. Danny is kinda gorgeous.

But besides Danny, nobody is even on the same level as Derek.

Well, Lydia is too.

Okay, dammit. People are on the same level as Derek Hale. The point is that Stiles isn’t.

Stiles sighs for what seems like the eighth time in. “Okay. Thanks.”

Lydia gives him a scrutinizing look before nodding and getting on her phone.

Stiles sits there and ponders why his life is like this before deciding that he must've done something to piss off fate in a past life. Pleased with his conclusion, Stiles shoves his notebook and pencils into his backpack just in time for the bell to ring.

π π π

Okay, so, Stiles must be going crazy.

When he saw that his pen pal had written his initials he figured, ‘hey, I might as well do the same. It’s only decent right?’ so he had, and ever since then Derek Hale has been shooting him looks in the hallway.

Maybe he’s hallucinating, because Derek Hale is, well, Derek Hale. Out of everyone in the hallway, why would he be looking at Stiles?

Also, Stiles can’t be the only person in the school with the initials S.S. although, he probably is the only S.S. that’s taking AP Stat so there’s that.

Stiles doesn’t know what to do, should he wave? Shoot him a smile?

Actually no, he should do neither of those things because if he does, and Derek actually wasn’t looking at him, that would be so unbelievably embarrassing. So embarrassing that Stiles would have to transfer schools immediately.

Stiles shakes his head and opens up his locker to gather his things for his next class. When he closes the locker Derek is standing right there like they’re in a horror movie and Stiles jumps so hard that he drops his notebook.

“Shit. Sorry,” Derek says and bends down to swipe Stiles’ notebook off the floor.

“No, it’s okay. You’re awfully quiet for an athlete.”

Stiles holds his hand out for his notebook but Derek doesn’t seem all that interested in returning it to him just yet. Derek looks at the front of his notebook.

“Hmm. AP Stat. Interesting.”

Stiles bites his lip and nods. “Yep,” he says popping the ‘p’. “it is interesting. Well, actually it’s not. AP Stat is yuck sometimes and it can get boring but it’ll look great on my resume so.”

Derek nods. He looks at Stiles for a few more seconds before he opens his mouth, and the second he does, Stiles’ stomach fills with butterflies.

“What is the probability that anyone will pass that fucking class? I’m thinking 1 in 100.”

Stiles bites his lip to stifle his smile. He doesn’t want to cheese like an idiot in front of Derek Hale but he thinks that ship has already sailed cause Derek’s lips stretch into a big smile.

Stiles clears his throat. “I think there is statistical data to back up your theory.”

“Oh, is there?” Derek asks, smile turning into a smirk.

Stiles nods then looks at his notebook that is still in Derek’s hand. “Can I have my notebook now? I’m not sure what exactly you’re plotting but I don’t like it.”

Derek scrunches his face up. “Wow, that was bad.”

Stiles’ mouth gapes. “Like yours were any better.”

Derek shrugs, smile returning to his face. “I thought my mean joke was pretty hilarious.”

“Yeah, hilariously bad. I didn’t laugh at all, not one bit.”

Derek looks like he doesn’t believe a word Stiles just said, which is fair, he shouldn’t.

“So,” Derek begins, eyes boring into Stiles’— seriously, what is up with Derek’s eyes? — “what is the probability that you will give me your number?”

Stiles pretends to think about it for a second. “I'm thinking 100 in 100.”

[its-all-stardust]

Sugar || 4

Masterlist || Part Three || Part Five

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

It’s only been a few days since Steven officially became your baby, and you’re already eager to see him again. You’ve texted a couple of times since, though not much. You’re still trying to get to know him, and while you’re excited to have him, Steven is still a stranger.

A stranger, despite whatever kinship you feel toward him, you know practically nothing about.

You’ve decided against a background check, trying to let yourself be more open and less afraid of letting people in. After all, normal people don’t do background checks on every person they meet, at least not to the level you can pay for. You want to trust Steven, so you do.

But still, after your shopping trip, you’d slipped in an oh-so-casual, “So, have you ever been arrested for anything?” before you and Steven parted ways.

“That’s not your way of saying you have, is it?” Steven asked with a laugh. “Because I know I’m not that exciting.”

You assured him that no, you’ve never been arrested for anything, and you gave him a lingering hug. Stranger he may be, you weren’t letting a chance at physical touch pass you by.

And now, after a few days of going without, you need the sort of pick-me-up that only your baby can provide. You texted him in the morning, telling him to wear one of the new outfits you bought for him.

At first, you thought about telling him to send you a picture—proof that he did as he was told and something nice for you to look at—but then decided a surprise visit would be even better.

Seeing Steven in the sleek, form-fitting clothes sent heat rushing to your cheeks when he tried them on at the store you took him to. You found him attractive before. Cute, really. But something about the darker clothing you picked out suited him, even though he kept tugging at the shirt, unused to the fit.

The clothes were more for any dates than for work. You’re familiar with the itch of ill-fitting clothing yourself. You just want to see Steven in them in person, knowing he’s wearing them because of you. You also want to see how well he obeys when you’re not around.

Walking into the museum on your extended lunch break, you head straight for the gift shop. Steven gave you his schedule for the next two weeks, so you know he should currently be manning the register.

You spot him immediately, the all-black outfit—a button-down shirt and slacks—making him stand out against the white walls of the museum. With a stray curl falling over his forehead, he is an absolute vision. You didn’t choose Steven for his looks, but it certainly is a nice bonus for him to be so handsome.

There’s no one else in the gift shop, so as you walk up to the counter where Steven is fiddling with some candy, you say, “Hi, baby.”

Steven’s eyes shoot up to meet yours, face flushed and a small smile on his lips. He opens his mouth to say something, but you reach across the counter to brush your fingers against his cheek.

“Are you feeling alright? You look warm,” you tease.

“Just surprised to see you, is all,” he says with a light laugh.

You take your hand away and place your arms on the counter, leaning forward. “I just wanted to see how well you listen to me.”

Your eyes fall down his form, catching on his silver name tag. The metal flashes nicely against the dark background of his chest.

“Isn’t that the whole point? Why wouldn’t I listen to you?”

“Some babies like to be brats. With the right mommy or daddy, it works out. But I need to know you can listen before you start testing limits.” Steven’s eyes darken ever so slightly.

“And what’ll happen if I ever decide not to listen?” he asks lowly, leaning close to you.

Your heart pounds in your chest. “Then mommy will have to teach her baby a lesson.”

The door to the backroom suddenly opens, making Steven jump back and rob you of his reaction. He goes back to moving the candy around, pretending to look busy while you stay leaning on the counter.

“You realize you’ve got a customer, Stevie?” Donna says as she walks past, making your eye twitch. You wonder if she’s like this with everyone or just Steven.

“He’s already waiting on me,” you say, making sure your tone is low and disinterested, showing her that you don’t care about what she’s saying.

At Steven’s confused look, you continue, speaking much more sweetly to your baby. “He’s picking out candy for me.”

He immediately starts playing along. “Yes. Here you are, ma’am,” he says, putting down two random bags. One contains chocolate scarabs that you’re sure Steven’s told you tastes like wax and a bag of sour gummy mummies that apparently aren’t very sour and could be mistaken for rubber.

Steven rings you up, continuing the charade. After he hands you the receipt, you glance over your shoulder at Donna. Her back is turned, but that doesn’t mean she’s not listening. You’ll have to ask Steven how nosey she is.

Turning back around, you brush your hand against his where it lays on the counter.

“I have to go back to work,” you whisper. “But you’ll call me later.”

“I will,” Steven nods, and you’re pleased he understands it isn’t a question. You give him one last smile and leave the gift shop with your bag of souvenir candy in hand.

“Why do they even sell this stuff?” you ask, phone pressed to your ear with one hand while you eat another gummy mummy with the other. “They’re horrible.”

“I told you not to eat them,” Steven says on the other end of the line. He timed the call perfectly, your phone ringing as soon as you walked through your door. You’ve told him roughly the exact minute you get home every day just so he could do this. “Are you still eating them?”

“I’m trying to figure out why they’re crunchy.” Steven gags.

“Why don’t you make yourself real food instead of eating some extremely questionable sweets?”

You pause for a moment before tossing the bag aside. “Is my baby trying to tell me what to do?” You’re not mad, but you’re definitely not passing up an opportunity to tease him.

“N-no?” Steven answers, sounding unsure.

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“I—well, I just worry that you’re not going to have a proper dinner,” Steven says. A perfect way of saying yes without saying yes.

Amused, you say, “Aw, that’s sweet of you to worry. Thank you, baby.” You think you hear him sigh in relief. Done with your teasing, for now, you move on. “I haven’t asked: how was your day?”

“Not bad, actually,” he answers, sounding a little surprised about it. “Everyone was really nice today. Nicer than normal anyway.”

“Oh? Why do you think that is?” You get up from the couch, grabbing the offensive candy to throw away.

“Haven’t a clue,” Steven says, flabbergasted. “Some of the kids’ mums were smiling at me a lot, too.”

This makes you pause. “Steven, do you really not know?” you ask with a laugh and lean against the counter.

“Know what?”

“They thought you looked good. Guess I’m not the only one who sees how pretty my baby is,” you purr. You don’t mind other people admiring Steven; he’s certainly deserving of it.

“No,” he denies. “That couldn’t— People don’t— Not about me.”

“That outfit I had you wear probably had something to with it. It shows you off more than your other clothes.” He doesn’t say anything. “Steven?”

“Just feels strange. I’m…not used to it.”

You hum. “And do you like it? The attention?”

You’re about to remind him that he needs to answer you when you hear a quiet “Yes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting attention, Steven,” you assure him. “Why do you think I have sugar babies?”

He’s still quiet. You’ll have to do something about his confidence, convince him of the effect he can have on people. You drop the topic for now, though, knowing that it’s not something that can be forced.

“I want you to come over for dinner this weekend,” you say. 

“Oh?” Is all Steven says, having been lost in thought.

“Yes, so you need to tell me what kind of food you like so I can figure out what to make.”

“You don’t have to make anything for me,” Steven says quickly. “I can just—”

“Steven,” you cut him off. Standing in your kitchen with Steven only on a phone call instead of a video chat, all you have to glare at are your cupboards. “Why did I ask you to be my baby?”

“Because…” The question seems to stump him. You stay silent, letting him think. “Because you want to take care of me?”

“Exactly.”

“It’s just…some of the things I read…,” Steven stutters. “Aren’t I supposed to be doing things for you?”

“You do do things for me, Steven. I don’t want you to wait on me hand and foot. Everybody else already does that for me. I want your attention. Your affection. I want to spoil you and show you that you deserve everything. If you ever decide you genuinely want to do something like that, you can, but not because you feel like you have to. That’s not your job here, do you understand?”

After a moment, “Yes.”

“Good boy.” Steven lets out a cough that sounds like he’s trying to cover something up. A grin finds its way across your lips. “Oh? Do you like it when I call you a good boy?”

“Mhmm.”

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes,” Steven says so quickly, so quietly, you almost miss it.

Your first impression of him wasn’t wrong; Steven is so much fun.

You hate cooking. Well, it’s not so bad when the recipe is easy, and you’re not making very much. When it’s more complicated, you get annoyed at all the work you have to do, especially when you’re cooking alone.

By the time you sit down to eat, you’re fine, but that doesn’t stop your grumbling every time you do it. It’s gotten easier over the years of cooking just for yourself, but it doesn’t mean you’ve come to enjoy it.

Because of that, you nearly wish you had asked Steven to arrive early to help you. But you didn’t. Couldn’t. This is for him, and you don’t want him to worry about a thing. With how he reacted to you wanting to cook for him, you suspect he’s used to putting people before himself. Either feeling like he’s an inconvenience or because he genuinely would rather do things for others, you’re not sure.

By the time he arrives, you have everything done and left on the stove to keep warm.

When he walks in, he’s already wide-eyed. Your apartment is large and spacious, with tall windows to let the light in. The decorations are a combination of help from a professional interior designer and your own eclectic preferences. Admittedly, it all clashes, but you like it. It gives your home a lived-in feeling as opposed to the sterile stock image look you see other people’s apartments and houses have.

“Your apartment has an upstairs,” are the first words out of Steven’s mouth, his eyes locking on the staircase at the other end of the room.

“Yeah, but it’s just the master bedroom and a little bit of extra space.” The extra space is the walk-in closet, but he’ll find that out when you give him the tour.

You take Steven’s hand and lead him to the kitchen and your small table. “Come on. Let’s eat, and I’ll show you around after.”

And if you thought he was gaping at your home, he looks even more in awe when he sees what you prepared for him.

Nothing fancy, in your opinion, though it certainly looks it. Steven looks amazed—touched at the sight of everything you have set out on the counter and stove.

“You made all this for me?”

All this being ratatouille with polenta and some seasoned rice. There’s also a baguette you had your assistant buy for you in the morning since the bakery usually sells out long before the end of the day. A fairly easy meal once you got past all the vegetables that needed to be chopped. And you’re certainly not going to admit that after several Google searches, you only picked ratatouille because you recognized it from a movie.

“Of course I did it all for you,” you say. “Did you think I wouldn’t make something nice for you?”

“It’s not that…” Steven starts before pausing. Then, taking a breath, he looks into your eyes and squeezes your hand. “Thank you.”

You beam at him, happy that he likes what you’ve done for him, that he appreciates it. You tilt your face up and press a soft kiss to Steven’s cheek. “You’re welcome, baby,” you whisper, your lips brushing his skin.

When you pull away, you see Steven’s face is flushed. He stares down at you wide-eyed and shifts a little, looking like he’s about to lean toward you, but stops himself.

“You know,” you say slowly, “You can do that to me, too, if you’d like.”

You’ve noticed that you’re initiating contact between the two of you, and you wouldn’t mind at all if Steven reciprocated. Especially since, if you’re reading him right, he looks like he wants to.

“Yeah?” he says softly, pupils a little wider than before.

You nod and wait.

Then, ever so slowly, Steven leans down and presses a swift, chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you,” you whisper when he pulls back. Steven smiles shyly at you. Tilting your head toward your kitchen table, you say, “Let’s eat.”

Steven adored the dinner you made for him and, by extension, adored you. His expression was soft, sweet, and unbelieving when he looked at you. Every time he looked away, he seemed surprised to find you still there when he looked back.

The same adoration was in your eyes. You love giving your babies new experiences and how grateful they were to you for it. For Steven, it’s that and more. He acts like no one has ever made him a meal before. Like no one has ever thought of him and what he might like.

Perhaps no one has.

And that makes this all more special for you, makes Steven all the more important. If that is true, if Steven really has been lacking such kindness, you’re glad you found him, glad that he agreed to be your baby. Whatever his past may have been like, you’re here now to show him that he can have and deserve such nice—and, at times, simple—things.

After dinner and dessert—a specialty vegan cake your assistant also bought as there was no way you could take on the already complicated science of baking and make it more difficult by making it vegan—Steven insisted on helping you clean up. You weren’t going to argue, not when you hate cleaning up more than cooking alone. And besides, just because you want to care for Steven doesn’t mean you want him to laze about and become someone who expects everything to be handed to him. You don’t like your babies suddenly losing their morals when money comes into the equation.

“There’s something I want to show you,” you say as you put the last dish in the dishwasher.

“Oh? Time for the grand tour?” Steven asks as he stands up straight, having put the leftovers in the fridge for you.

You nod and take Steven’s hand. He happily follows you as you pull him toward the living room, intertwining his fingers with yours.

He marvels at everything, from the size to the view to even the furniture. Part of you understands why he would be so astounded; your apartment is quite large compared to more affordable ones in the city, but it still feels small to you. Though that’s more likely because you’ve been in the sprawling homes of your associates where most of the rooms are for display rather than use.

You show him your office, the bathroom, and the spare room. You don’t consider any of it all that fascinating and are more interested in taking him upstairs, but you give him time to admire everything all the same.

As you both start towards your bedroom, you feel Steven slow, his hand pulling in yours as he hesitates but not enough to force either of you to let go.

“You said your bedroom was up here?” Steven asks, sounding nervous. You know immediately what he must be thinking.

“I’m not trying to sleep with you,” you assure him. “There is genuinely something I want to show you. I suppose I could have done it downstairs, but I think my closet is the best place.”

“Your closet?” Steven’s shoulders slump, the tension draining from them, but his nervousness is replaced by confusion. Even so, he takes a step up, willing to follow you.

“You’ll see,” is all you say.

You don’t linger in the bedroom, not even allowing Steven to marvel at your large bed or the ensuite bathroom. Instead, you take him straight to your walk-in closet, flicking on the light as soon as you walk through the doorway.

Steven stops in his tracks, and here you let him look around. Dropping his hand, you step forward, walking toward the middle of the room.

“I’m pretty sure your closet is as big as my entire flat,” he says, staring at your racks of clothes, the shelves holding shoes and handbags, and the slim locked drawers you use to hold just some of your jewelry.

“Do you want a bigger place?” You assume he will; all of your babies do.

“Oh, no, that’s alright. It’s not too bad, and then I’d worry about Gus. Wouldn’t want him getting upset at a sudden move,” Steven laughs and you let out a light one of your own. You make a mental note, though, to look for something for him. If his apartment really is as big as your closet, you want Steven to live somewhere more comfortable.

“What I want to show you is over here,” you say, gesturing to the semicircle of three mirrors placed in the wall in the middle of the room.

Steven’s brow furrows, but he steps forward anyway. You take him by the shoulders and turn him toward the mirrors. Then you make him step forward so he’s standing right in front of them with you plastered to his side.

“Tell me what you see.” Keeping your hands on his shoulders, you meet his eye through the mirror.

“...Me?” Steven answers after a moment, still confused.

“Describe yourself,” you gently order. “How do you look?”

“I look alright, I suppose,” Steven starts slowly. “My hair’s a bit of a mess, but when isn’t it?” He laughs lightly, brushing the curls away from his forehead only for them to fall back into place.

You hum but don’t say anything. Your hands slide down to his upper arms, and you press yourself close to him.

“I…probably look a mess most of the time, actually,” Steven quietly admits. “My clothes are a little odd. Even you think so, what with all those clothes you bought for me. I don’t think—”

“Do you think you’re attractive?” you interrupt. You’ve heard enough and don’t want Steven voicing more self-perceived flaws.

Steven looks away from his reflection. “I-I don’t look bad, but I wouldn’t say—”

“But you like it when people find you attractive.” Steven doesn’t say anything, but you don’t need him to; he already told you he did the other night.

“Is it because it makes you feel desired? Wanted?”

Steven tenses underneath your hands but still doesn’t speak.

You look away from the mirror to look at his face directly, even though you only see the side profile.

“Do you not feel wanted, Steven? Is that why you enjoy attention from strangers?” you ask, your voice soft, quiet.

“I’m just not…good with people,” Steven finally says. “It’s hard, and I haven’t got an—a lot of friends. Most people I meet end up thinking something about me is odd…”

“I’m like that too,” you tell him, turning back to the mirror to look at yourself, to look at who you’ve become, who you are. You didn’t get to where you are by forcing yourself to be what others wanted you to be. “But that doesn’t mean you’re worth less than other people or that nobody wants you. It just means that you have to find the right kind of people to connect with and who will understand you. Forget the rest of them.”

Turning back to Steven, you reach up with one hand, placing your fingers under his chin to tilt his face up. “Stop looking at yourself how other people see you. Do you see anything different?”

Steven looks up, glancing at all three mirrors. He seemingly does a double-take when looking into the one on his right but recovers after a moment. “Not really,” he says, but something in his voice is different, making you think you’re getting through to him.

“I’ll tell you what I see then. I see a man who’s a delightful mix of adorable and dangerously handsome, a powerful combination if he learns how to control it. I like his messy hair.” You run a hand through his hair, starting at the back of his head and raking your fingers along his scalp. Steven lets out a soft gasp and shivers under your touch as you drag your fingers back down the same way.

“And I like his odd clothes and how at home he looks in them. How he isn’t trying to be someone else with what he wears.” You trace the back of a finger down his cheek. “I like how soft his face gets when he smiles, the lines that show his old joys and his new.”

Steven flushes under all your words and ministrations.

“But I think the thing that most attracts me to Steven Grant is his mind.” That, at least, makes Steven react. He doesn’t look at you through the mirror like he did earlier but instead twists around to see you from your spot just behind him.

“I like the way he speaks so fast when he’s talking about something he loves, how he can ramble for hours about it,” you continue, meeting his confused yet hopeful gaze. “How he thinks he says the wrong thing, but he’s just saying the honest thing. I like the way he looks at and experiences the world because I view it the same way. I see all of that, and it makes me want him, and I don’t understand how other people don’t.”

You pause, looking over his face to make sure he’s still listening. Then, you continue, the words soft and earnest. “You’re something special, Steven.”

When you finish, Steven is silent, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours is his only moment.

Then he surges forward, his lips crashing into yours. His nose bumps against yours, and his teeth unintentionally catch your lip. It’s awkward and unpracticed, but it steals your breath all the same.

Just as your hands move to rest on his chest, as you try to tilt your head to kiss him properly, Steven pulls away.

“I’m sorry!” he apologizes, but you note that he makes no attempt to step away from you. “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s too soon for me to be doing that, isn’t it?”

Despite his words, you only see the barest hint of regret on his face. Mainly, you see hope.

Giving him a soft smile, you say, “There’s no such thing as too soon in a relationship like this.”

Taking Steven’s face in your hand, you pull him back to you. He breathes a heavy sigh against your cheek as soon as your lips touch. His eyes slip closed as he falls into the sensation, letting you take the lead. Your hand stays on his cheek while the other rests on his chest, where you can feel his heart pounding. His hands tentatively rest on your waist before he tightens his hold.

Not wanting to overwhelm him, you keep the kiss light and slow. You want to devour him, but there will be plenty of time for that in the future. Yes, there’s no such thing as too soon, but you want to savor every first you have with Steven.

When you pull away, you swear you hear a slight groan come from the back of Steven’s throat as his lips chase yours.

You try to hide your smirk when you say, “Let’s go back downstairs.”

Steven seems a little disappointed but follows you nonetheless as you take his hand and lead him to your living room. There, you curl up together on the couch with Steven pressed to your side, leaning into you.

You don’t kiss again, though you desperately want to. You need to make sure, even though he initiated it and was very receptive when you kissed him, that Steven is comfortable with the pace of the relationship. You need to know that kissing you wasn’t something done out of overwhelming emotion that he wouldn’t repeat if he had been thinking clearly. 

You set the standard that nothing had to happen between the two of you after all.

The evening wears on and eventually slips into night, with you and Steven alternating between talking and watching some random show you put on. Not once does he try to leave your side.

It’s comfortable, relaxing. More importantly, it makes you happy. Happy to be here with Steven, happy that he’s yours.

You don’t ever want to let him go.

“Stay the night?” you offer him once it’s deemed too late for him to return to his place. “I have the guest room set up for you.”

Steven looks at you, an eyebrow raised. “Did you plan this?” he asks, a smile creeping across his lips.

You had, in fact, planned this. The guest bedroom has always been for your babies, but you were especially excited to set it up for Steven. You kept the decorations sparse and more like what can be found in the rest of the apartment. You don’t make the room too personal to you in case your baby wants to personalize it for themselves.

But despite eagerly anticipating his first night in your home, you didn’t want to order him to stay. You figured if he really wanted to leave, he would have said something sooner or even turned you down now. Much like with the kiss, you want Steven to make certain moves even though he’s the baby in this relationship. But spending the night in your apartment, in separate beds with no intention of having him crawl into yours, is something you’re willing to push on a little bit.

You shrug instead of answering Steven, though the truth is obvious. “You don’t start until eleven tomorrow, so you don’t have to rush to get home in the morning,” you say, trying to convince him.

Steven just shakes his head and smiles. “I would say I don’t have clothes or anything, but I suspect you’ve already taken care of that.”

“What kind of sugar mommy would I be if I hadn’t?” You stand and start toward the guest bedroom. “Come on and tell me how I did.”

Steven dutifully follows you before stepping past when you pause in the doorway. He goes to the closet first, having already glanced around the room during the tour. It’s not a walk-in like yours, but it’s still large with double doors. Steven grabs both handles and pulls the doors wide to dramatically reveal the contents.

He pauses at the sight of the wide assortment of clothes, and your heart beats nervously in your chest. You think he’ll like everything, but you need him to tell you. Steven reaches in and pulls out one of the many patterned shirts he’s favored every time you’ve seen him. There are also solid colors to give him variety, as well as dressier pieces that match what he took home with him, but you’re most proud of the patterns, having picked them all out yourself.

“Try it on. Make sure it fits,” you say, though you already know it will. You were there when his measurements were taken at the boutique.

Steven doesn’t put it on, though you see him check the size. He already knows how it’ll fit, too. You made sure to check his preferred size for his old clothes when he was trying on the things you selected while shopping, knowing it was different than the more form-fitting clothes you picked out.

“This is like my clothes,” he says softly, looking over at you as he pulls at the hem of the shirt he’s currently wearing, another slightly oversized, oddly patterned piece.

“I like your clothes,” you tell him honestly, repeating your earlier sentiments as you approach him. “I’ll still have you in the nicer stuff on occasion, but I like seeing you in this kind of stuff more. It suits you.” You run a hand down his chest, admiring how the shirt looks on him.

“Thank you,” Steven says, sounding breathless.

Despite wanting to wait for Steven to kiss you again, you reach for him anyway. You control yourself, though, and place a tame kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“You’re welcome, baby,” you say softly, your lips so close to his.

“I feel like I’ve been dreaming ever since I met you,” Steven whispers, sounding as if he’s afraid he’ll wake up any moment.

“And you haven’t even experienced the half of it yet,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his middle. “So I take it I did a good job?”

Steven’s free hands come to rest on your back, his fingers lightly stroking back and forth as he flexes them. “I love it,” he says, looking at you like you hung the moon.

Smiling at him, you press a quick kiss to his cheek and step away. “I’ll let you get some sleep. You should have everything you need either in here or in the bathroom.”

“You’re leaving?” Steven asks, not wanting to let you go.

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” You say it jokingly, but you would have no issue making sure Steven was snuggled up in bed and giving him a goodnight kiss.

Steven flushes and mumbles, “I-I don’t need…” before trailing off. Not quite a no, but not a yes either. You tuck that information in the back of your mind for later.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” you tell him, stepping out of his grasp.

“Wait!” he calls as you reach the door. You pause, turning back to face him. “Can I…kiss you again?”

You try to hide your excitement. “Of course you can.” You don’t move from your spot in the doorway, wanting Steven to come to you.

He puts the shirt back in the closet and slowly steps close to you. He gazes down at you for a moment, and you notice how wide his pupils are, engulfing the brown almost entirely. When Steven’s lips touch yours for the third time tonight, your skin starts to buzz. You need to leave before you push your sweet boy too far.

Your skin is thoroughly heated when he pulls away, and you’re both left breathless despite the relative sweetness of the kiss.

“Goodnight, Steven,” you whisper, forcing yourself to take a step back.

“Goodnight,” he says back. 

You force yourself to turn and walk away, and you notice you don’t hear the sound of the bedroom door closing until you’re up the stairs and out of sight.

You don’t sleep in. You couldn’t even if you wanted to, not with Steven in the room below you, so close at hand. It’s early yet, but you want to make him breakfast before he has to leave. He has to feed Gus, so you doubt he’ll be able to stay long. You want to spend as much time with him as you can today.

Quickly making yourself presentable in case Steven is already awake, you rush down the stairs. You glance toward the bedroom before heading toward the kitchen but pause when you see the door has been left open.

The bathroom door is also open, showing he’s not in there. In fact, after a quick glance around your apartment, you don’t see Steven anywhere. The floor plan is relatively open, even with the wall separating the living and dining rooms. There are few places to hide.

Confused, you call out, “Steven?”

There’s no response, but you can’t say you expected one.

Walking into his bedroom, you see the pile of his clothes from yesterday on the floor near the foot of the bed. The sheets are pulled into place but mussed enough to tell you that someone other than your cleaning lady has touched them.

You run your hand along the spot where Steven presumably slept, but the sheets feel cool to the touch.

Steven is gone and has been for a while.

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[96thdayofrage]

It was 2009 when PINAC News first broke the story of a mother named Tasha Ford who was arrested on felony “eavesdropping” charges for recording police detaining her teenage son in the parking lot of a South Florida movie theater after accusing him of trying to sneak inside without a ticket.

Ford’s arrest by Boynton Beach police was one of several high-profile arrests at the time on charges of eavesdropping or “wiretapping”; an unconstitutional trend in which cops across the country were using outdated felony laws to keep citizens from recording them in public.

Several landmark court cases since then have affirmed that citizens have a First Amendment right to record police in public which is one reason why we have been seeing so many police abuse videos in recent years. Turns out, they had a lot to hide during those early years.

But on May 5, the Fourth District Court of Appeals in Florida ruled the Boynton Beach cops who arrested Ford had a reasonable expectation of privacy and therefore had probable cause to arrest her, once again denying her the right to sue for damages. Ford first filed the lawsuit in 2010 but has since faced a string of judges who claim that cops have an expectation of privacy in public despite existing case law stating otherwise.

Ford’s video from that night should have ended the expectation of privacy debate because it shows the cops were standing in front of a bustling movie theater on a Saturday night as dozens of people stood or walked by. Some of the bystanders exchanged comments with the officers. One man even walked up and introduced his date to an officer while the cop tried to obtain Ford’s home address. The officer shook both their hands before resuming the conversation with Ford as if it were just another meet-and-greet community event.

But it does not appear as if Judges Edward L. Artau and Melanie G. May even watched the video, much less researched case law because they did not elaborate on their decision other than recite what was already stated in summary judgment from the lower court judge.

In his summary judgment under the heading “Undisputed Material Facts,”, Judge G. Joseph Curley described Ford as “confrontational” because she would not stop recording when ordered to do so. He also stated that she had “admitted” to recording the cops without consent as if confessing to a crime when the whole point of the lawsuit was that she was not committing a crime and had nothing to admit to because she never made it a secret that she was recording.

The summary judgment also claims that the cop’s friend who walked up and introduced his female companion also had an expectation of privacy, never mind the fact he was the one intruding into a conversation that had nothing to do with him.

The 2-1 ruling is already being challenged in an amicus brief filed Thursday by the ACLU, the National Press Photographers Association, the Society of Professional Journalists and several other First Amendment groups who predict cops in Florida will begin using the ruling to arrest anybody recording them in public as they’ve done in the past.

Below is an excerpt from the amicus brief which you can read here:

If allowed to stand, the panel majority’s opinion will license law enforcement officers to order citizens to stop recording the officers’ public discharge of their duties and to arrest all who refuse to comply for obstruction without violence. Like Ms. Ford, those individuals can hope and expect that sensible prosecutors will decline to charge, and sensible judges and juries will decline to convict, but they will nevertheless suffer the considerable consequences of an unlawful arrest, ranging from humiliation, degrading confinement, the cost of bail and defense counsel to the potential loss of employment and disruption to familial bonds, all captured by the popular culture saying, “you can beat the rap, but you can’t beat the ride.”

This Court should put an end to the practice by:

1. Granting rehearing or rehearing en banc;

2. Ruling that defendants lacked probable cause to arrest Ms. Ford;

3. Holding that recording police officers in the public discharge of their duties cannot create probable cause to arrest for wiretapping or for resisting without violence irrespective of whether ordered to stop recording; and

4. Holding that arguably rude speech unaccompanied by threats, incitement, or physical interference cannot give rise to probable cause to arrest for resisting or obstructing without violence.

The dissenting judge

It appears that the only judge who watched the video was dissenting Judge Martha Warner who has been on the bench since 1989 when she was appointed by then-Governor Bob Martinez. Artau was appointed to the bench last year by Governor Ron Desantis and May was appointed to the bench by Governor Jeb Bush in 2002.

Judge Warner not only watched the video and did her research, she explained her dissent in detail, citing a couple of the landmark cases that were made since Ford’s arrest. She also highlighted the viral George Floyd video from last year and the importance of being able to record police in public as you can read in the excerpt below.

I would hold that a law enforcement officer has no reasonable subjective expectation of privacy in conversations he has with the public or the arrestee in the performance of the officer’s duties in public places. They are performing a public duty at the time, and the public has a right to hear their words. This is as true today as it was in 2009.

A rule otherwise would mean that everyone who pulls out a cell phone to record an interaction with police, whether as a bystander, a witness, or a suspect, is committing a crime. Given how important cell phone videos have been for police accountability across the nation, I do not believe that society is ready to recognize that the recording of those interactions, which include audio recordings, are somehow subject to the officer’s right of privacy. If that were the case, then had the individual who recorded George Floyd saying to the officers “I can’t breathe” been in Florida, he would have been guilty of a crime.

The facts of this case seem to be only too similar to so many police encounters caught on video or cell phones. The officers had no reasonable expectation of privacy in their conversations while performing their public duties, particularly in public spaces. Given the prevalence of small video cameras and cell phones in public spaces, society has definitively come down on the side of approving the videoing of officers in the performance of their duties as a method of accountability. Because I conclude that the court erred in finding that the officers had probable cause to arrest the appellant for violation of the wiretap statute or for obstruction of the justice statute, I would reverse the final summary judgment and remand for further proceedings.

The Arrest

The arrest took place on February 28, 2009, a time when most people did not have video cameras on their phones. Not even the iPhone had a video camera at the time.

Ford, who had recently moved to South Florida from Washington DC, was at her mother’s house when she received a call from Boynton Beach police telling her to come pick up her son whom they said tried to sneak into a movie theater without purchasing a ticket.

Ford drove to the theater and began recording with her Canon Powershot as soon as she stepped out of the car. The cops immediately accused her of being “aggressive.” She responded by saying she was “passionate” about her son, especially after learning one of the cops slammed him against the car when he would not remove his headphones.

At no point did the cops whose names are Robert Kellman, Ricky Lauture and Russell Faine  ever make an attempt to keep people from walking through the area where they had the teen detained while talking to his mother, which is a routine step when they want to keep their conversations private.

They just did not appreciate Ford questioning their authority as she recorded them which was not as common back then as it is today where there are now dozens of YouTube channels dedicated to doing just that. That is what made her aggressive in their eyes.

And that is what made her “confrontational” in the eyes of Judge Curley, a word that was also by the attorney of the cops in describing the incident to the judge, according to court documents.

Curley decided to weigh the evidence in summary judgment rather than let the undisputed facts speak for themselves as he is supposed to do.

Clueless judges

Judge Curley’s misunderstanding of the eavesdropping law probably comes from federal judge William Zloch who dismissed Ford’s federal lawsuit in May 2011 by claiming the cops had probable cause to arrest her because she had recorded them without consent.

Judge Zloch was probably in for a shock when less than three months later in August 2011, the landmark Glik vs. Cunniffe decision from the First Circuit Court of Appeals in Massachusetts affirmed that citizens had the right to record cops in public, contradicting his opinion on the issue.

The following year, ACLU vs. Alvarez out of the Seventh Circuit in Illinois was what finally put a stop to Chicago police arresting people on felony wiretapping charges for recording them in public.

But even before those landmark cases, the right to record police in public was already established in the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals, which includes Florida, with the case, Smith vs the City of Cummnig in 2000 which states citizens have a “First Amendment right, subject to reasonable time, manner and place restrictions, to photograph or videotape police conduct,” including a “right to record matters of public interest.”

The following is an excerpt from our original article on the arrest published on March 6, 2009 after we interviewed Ford by phone, less than a week after she was released from jail. It was a time when the mainstream media would ignore such arrests until they became impossible to ignore which is what happened here.

After pulling into the parking lot, she started filming as soon as she stepped out of her car.

“I saw my son surrounded by five officers and I started filming them, then I filmed the officer walking up to me,” she said.

Rather than stop to talk to the officer, she walked up to her son and asked him what happened. He told her that he had been tackled from behind by an officer and handcuffed after having been thrown out of the theater by a security guard.

“I kept asking the officers, ‘Was he aggressive? Did he pose a threat? I cannot perceive why you would want to put a child in handcuffs’,” she said.

But the officers seemed mainly concerned about the camera.

“They said ‘you can’t record people without letting them know’,” she said.

“So I said, ‘Ok, Tasha Ford is recording you’ and I continued filming them.

“I was filming them for my own protection,” said the mother of two who recently moved to South Florida from Washington DC. “I’ve seen the way cops interact with civilians down here.”

She said one of the officers, Robert Kellman, was extremely antagonistic towards her and told her son, “since your mother is such a fucking asshole, I’m going to arrest you for trespassing’.”

And then a supervisor arrived and when he noticed that she had a Maryland driver license, he allegedly told her, “you fucking northerners think you can come down here and mess with cops. You are about to get a lesson 101 on how to deal with Florida cops.”

The supervisor ordered her arrested under Florida’s electronic surveillance law, which is mostly applied to recording phone conversations without the other party’s consent.

In other words, it doesn’t apply to people who do not have a reasonable expectation of privacy.

But here we are 11 years later and the judges still don’t understand basic Constitutional law. Or perhaps they just don’t care.

After dismissing the federal claims over the eavesdropping charges, Judge Zlock kicked the case back down to the lower court to resolve the claim over the obstructing justice/resisting arrest charge which is really nothing more than a contempt-of-cop charge.

After her arrest, prosecutors wasted little time in dismissing both charges against Ford which should have bolstered her chances of suing police for damages but she had the misfortune of going before clueless or corrupt judges who ignore actual case law.

The amicus brief filed last week is requesting an en banc review which would bring the case up before the entire bench of 12 judges in the Fourth District Court of Appeals rather than just a panel of three. And the next step after that would be the Florida supreme court.

The case has never gone before a jury who would likely have a much different interpretation of the eavesdropping law than the bulk of judges mentioned in this article.

Ford vowed more than a decade ago that she would continue fighting this until she obtains justice so it is unlikely she is about to give up. Especially now that she has found an honest judge.

[spartanguard]

(love will see us through these) Dark Days [CSRT; 7/7]

Summary: A century ago, the United Realms of Pomem had been a land of peace, prosperity, and magic. Until war tore the land apart, leaving behind cruel leaders and even crueler laws regarding the use of magic. And each year, the youth of each realm are subjected to a fight to the death, both for entertainment and to weed out anyone capable of wielding magic. In the 99th Magic Games, past victors Emma Nolan and Killian Jones find themselves serving as mentors, while Alice Gothel and Robyn West end up representing their realm. Everyone has secrets; everyone has something to lose. Who will win? Who will die? Just don’t forget: all magic comes with a price.

rated M | 6k words | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | AO3

A/N: OMG IT’S THE LAST CHAPTER!! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented on it; I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed it! I don’t exactly have a timeline for the next story yet, but I’ll probably start working on it when I’m done with my CSSNS commitments. And thank you again to @captainswanbigbang​ for giving a great venue to revisit this, and to @optomisticgirl​ for being an amazing beta. Title is from “Safe and Sound” by Taylor Swift and the Civil Wars. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 7—Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound

The trip home was...weird. That was the only way Robyn could describe it. It was the same train, and the same views of Pomem flying by outside, but in reverse—which felt poetically appropriate (or something like that; she wasn’t great at writing).

Because this trip was a complete 180 from the previous: last time, she knew there was a very decent chance she was being carried away to her death; to have escaped that—and lived through everything—definitely carried a sense of relief with it, but she also knew she wasn’t the same person she was a few weeks ago. 

Granted, it was a much better 180 than the one most of the other tributes had taken: leaving home alive and well and heading back in a coffin.

(Could there actually be that many 180s from the same point? She wasn’t great at geometry either.)

(God, she was probably going to have to go back to school, wasn’t she? Ugh, being 16 sucked.)

She knew that a whole different life was waiting for her in Sherwood, but how she was supposed to build it on the foundation of her past was what she hadn’t figured out yet. There was probably a house waiting for her and her mom in Victor's Village—whichever one they wanted, most likely, given that Eloise and Alice were the only other living Victors. She wouldn’t have to go to work in the textile factories or cotton fields like everyone else was expected to, and she didn’t even have to follow her mom’s footsteps into midwifery if she didn’t want to. She’d probably have to become a mentor, once she finished high school, but that was far from a full-time job. 

Hell, she was even nervous about seeing her mom again. As much as she’d felt a pang of jealousy at the fact that Alice had her mother—well, both parents—with her, as stilted as her relationship was with Eloise, and as much as Robyn desperately wanted to fall into her own mom’s hug and never leave, she wasn’t sure it would hold the same comfort it used to. 

She was going to be vaguely poetic again: she was standing on a precipice, but couldn’t see past the edge. 

That was semi-literal; the train was going through mountains, so there was stone on one side and a sheer cliff over forest on the other. The sun was making its slow ascent and Alice was snoring in the bed, feet away. 

Technically, they had their own cars, but neither of them really wanted to be that far from each other; they’d done that enough after the games. They'd spent the last couple days of the ride talking, cuddling, kissing, and getting to know each other in a somewhat normal manner—like people usually do when they're not caught up in a death match. She knew now that Alice's favorite color was light blue, like the spot where the sea meets the sky; that her favorite place was her father's ship; and she had this adorably ticklish spot on her hip, right at the juncture of her thigh bone. (They hadn't just kissed...they were still teenagers, after all.)

And on her end, she’d been able to tell Alice about helping her mom with births when she was growing up and how that made her never want kids; about how her favorite color was orange, like a sunrise; and about the father she’d never met, but grew up in the shadow of. 

“God, I can't imagine not having a papa,” Alice had said. “What happened?”

“He died in that big fire that knocked out Factory 21 when we were babies. He was trying to get other people out when a beam collapsed on him.”

“Oh my god; I'm so sorry. Your poor mum!”

Robyn had to shrug at that. “Well, he and my mom were never formally together, same as your parents. He was actually a widower and had another kid; you know Roland, the groundskeeper?”

“Yes! Oh my god, he has the curliest hair.”

“He's my half brother.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah, he went to live with his mom's relatives after the accident; I was only a couple months old, so I was already with my mom. There was some drama with the settlement money being split between me and Roland, so he and I aren't close at all. All I've got are my mom’s stories, and what other people have said. And apparently my skill with a bow; I guess he was a great shot.”

“Hey, that's a pretty great way to honor him—using that to win the games.”

“I guess.”

The one thing they hadn't managed to talk about at all, though, was what came next—for them, as a couple. Robyn loved Alice, she knew—but she was also a teenager and so much could change. If she had all these other questions about her future, was Alice going to be a constant, or a variable?

(She did okay at science.)

Even though she’d only been around him for a tiny bit, she kind of wished she had Killian to talk to, like Alice would. He seemed like the kind to dispense good fatherly advice.

Or he’d pass judgment on the person who was dating his daughter. Hard to say.

At least she had access to the next best thing: Eloise. To be honest, Robyn was still intimidated by her, even if they were kind of on equal footing now, at least socially. There was just this...aura she gave off, or something, that set Robyn on edge. But if they were going to be part of each other's lives for the foreseeable future, one or both of them would have to get over that.

And this was the last leg of their journey home so she should probably do it sooner rather than later. 

She grabbed a robe and slipped it on over her Olympus-provided pajamas that she had definitely stolen, gave Alice a kiss on the cheek that she didn't notice (and she probably wouldn't be awake for another few hours), and quietly slipped out of the train car to the next one—the club car.

Robyn had figured it’d be a good place to get a bite to eat and wait for Eloise to wake, but to her surprise, her mentor was already there.

“Uh, hi—good morning,” she stammered, afraid to move for some reason. “You’re up early.”

“Actually, you are,” Eloise answered. “I’m kind of surprised after what you two got up to last night.”

It was still pretty dark in the car, which was good because Robyn’s cheeks were probably the color of the hibiscus tea Eloise was drinking.

“I’m not judging; just...consider your volume in the future.” She was smirking; what did that mean? God, she should just turn around now. Or better yet, throw herself off the moving train. But it would be pretty silly to come this far only to die of mortification.

“Take a seat; grab a bite. You won’t get food like this at home.” Eloise gave her a pointed look with her invitation that told Robyn she didn't really have a choice here, so she complied, taking a seat on the other side of the table and reaching for a muffin.

She picked at it while working up the nerve to ask her questions—or even remember what they were—when Eloise spoke up. 

“I get the impression this wasn't just a casual social call,” she said, eyeing Robyn and then taking a sip of tea. “Are you wondering what comes next?”

“Uh—yeah, actually; how did you know?”

“Because I’m a mother, even if I’m not particularly maternal. And because I had that same kind of nervous energy after I won my games.”

Robyn chewed her bite of muffin—was that blueberry green tea flavored? Dang—while deciding where to start. It probably made sense to start with the hardest one. “How...how did you go back to your mom?”

Eloise’s brow furrowed, and she took another long sip of tea. “To be honest, I’m still not sure. My mother was a firm believer in being one with nature, in pacifism; I sometimes wonder if she didn't want me to win at all—if she would have preferred I be killed instead of doing the killing. I could barely look her in the eyes when I got off the train.” 

She paused to take another sip, but a lump was caught in Robyn’s throat—that was exactly how she felt right now. 

“But she shocked me—she just lifted my chin, smiled at me, and pulled me into her arms. Mothers have a large capacity for forgiveness, you know.”

Robyn scoffed. “You haven’t met my mother, though.” To say Zelena West could hold a grudge was putting it lightly; they could only go to certain shops in town because of the petty fights her mom had picked.

“Oh no, I have. Who do you think delivered Alice?”

Robyn’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“Mhmm. I think you were a few months old at the time, and she was pretty desperate to get back to you—but Alice was taking her sweet time.”

“I can see that,” Robyn giggled.

“But she finally made her appearance, and your mum told me that becoming a mother was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Now, personally, I’m not sure I can say the same, but I have to assume your mother still believes that, and is just going to be happy you’re home.”

“But...I'm not the same person I was then. The things I’ve done…”

“She knows, Robyn. Everyone saw it. And she’s still going to love you and be there for you.”

That made Robyn feel a bit better, but an awful question came into her head. And she couldn’t hold it back. “Is that how you feel about Alice?”

Eloise finished her tea, then set the mug down. “I’m terrible at showing it, but yes. Motherhood was never something I wanted, but it got me out of a situation I wasn't happy with. We may not be close—and we’ll never be as close as she is with her father—but I’m still proud of her.”

“Good. You should be.”

Eloise smirked at Robyns matter-of-fact statement. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Because Alice is awesome!” Robyn blurted out. “She’s sweet and funny and kind and amazing and—”

She was cut off by Eloise’s laughter. “Alright, I believe you. I had my doubts there, but you’ve convinced me.”

“What?” Hold on—doubts? “Convinced you of what?”

“That you really love her.”

Robyn was dumbstruck. “You didn't think so before?”

Eloise leveled an unamused look at her. “Robyn. You and I are more similar than you think. You can see strategy beyond your emotions; Alice...can’t. Not as well.”

“You think...I was faking?”

“I wondered.”

That muffin was threatening to come back up.

“I’m glad it’s real though; that makes the future easier.”

“Easier?”

Just then, the door swung open, and a groggy Alice stumbled in. “Oh, there you are,” she said, smiling sleepily; Robyn’s heart skipped a beat, it was so cute.

“Hey,” she said, suddenly shy.

“Good,” was all Eloise could say. “You both probably need to hear this.”

Alice flopped down on the plush seat next to Robyn. “Hear what?”

“How the rest of your lives are going to go.”

Alice had been slathering marmalade on toast, but slowed her roll, her eyes growing wide. “What do you mean?”

“You know this can't end, right?” Eloise asked, pointing a condescending finger between them. “This is who you are now: the Star-Crossed Lovers of Sherwood, defeating all odds to get their happy ending.”

Under the table, Robyn reached for Alice's thigh and squeezed. “But we’re only teenagers. I don't...I don’t think my feelings will change, but...” She made a point to not look at Alice when she said that, scared of what might  be on her face at a statement like that.

But, to her surprise, Alice was the one to reply. She sighed, saying “No, she’s right; the games are never over. Whatever happens between us, Olympus is only going to want to see one thing.”

“What, us?”

“Yeah,” Alice said, a bit sadly, breaking Robyns heart. “Why else do you think we’ve had to keep it a secret that I’m Killian Jones’ daughter? There’d be no more privacy ever for my family; and it’d break all sorts of laws.”

“They’d stop caring at some point, right?”

Eloise shook her head. “Look at the Misthaven dynasty.”

Everyone knew about the Nolan family—David and Snow, who won and fell in love; then their daughter Emma, who fell in love with another victor and had a son; god, that kid was doomed. But they were still the focus of a lot of attention during the games, and even more once Snow became the mayor there. They might as well be royalty.

Shit, was that Alice and Robyn now?

“Damn.”

“Yeah,” Alice agreed.

“But what if—what if it doesn't work out?”

Alice was quiet while Eloise answered. “It has to. Unless you want bad things to happen.” Abruptly, she stood then. “If you excuse me; I need to make sure I’m packed before we get home.” And she left an incredibly awkward silence behind her in the car. 

Alice picked up her toast and finally ate it, and Robyn finished her muffin. Alice picked up another piece of bread, and the knife for the marmalade, but that probably wasn't even sharp enough to cut the tension between them. 

She tried anyway though. “Do..do you really not think we’ll make it?” she asked quietly.

“I…” Robyn started, but she really had no idea what to say. “I...want to,” she settled on. “But I’m also only 16. I don't even know what I want to do next week.”

“That’s not the same and you know it,” Alice said through a mouthful of toast. She chewed and swallowed, then continued, “I know we’re young, and I know our lives are going to be crazy from here on out. but one thing I'm certain of is you. And I don't want pity or anything, and I don't want to find out you only feel bad for me or something, or you just did it for the games, and that’s why you like me back. And—ugh!” she yelled, throwing her toast at the table and grabbing at her cuff. 

This wasn't the first time this had happened: anytime Alice got overly emotional, something happened with her magic that caused a painful reaction with the cuff; in a calm moment, she’d explained that her magic was tied to emotion, so it seemed that whenever hers got out of control, its attempts to rein her in ended painfully. 

“Hey, I've got you,” Robyn said quietly, moving closer and pulling Alice into her arms. 

But Alice pushed back. “No; not now,” she barked, then winced. “I'm going—I need my mum. I’ll see you later.” She was up and out of the car faster than Robyn could protest.

Well, fuck. She’d made a mess of that, hadn’t she?

And out of all that, the worst part was watching Alice walk away.

Maybe they needed some space; maybe that would help. She’d try to talk to her when they got home—when things were less tense. 

But her appetite was pretty well gone, so she got up and followed the other two out. She didn't go to Alice’s car, though; she kept going to hers, little used as it was. She probably needed to pack, too, and get dressed and all that. They’d be home in just a few hours.

It was funny; barely an hour ago, she’d been scared about that, and now, all she wanted was her mom.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

Killian always hated this part of the games. Not like he really enjoyed any of it, but escorting the bodies of two children to their waiting parents was a burden he loathed carrying.

Ariel knew to avoid him while they were traveling home; that was the only time he really let the emotional toll of the games envelop him. It typically involved him spending some quality alone time with however much of Olympus’s good rum his sticky fingers had nabbed. As a consequence, he usually didn’t remember much of the trip.

He knew they were close to home when the trees flying by his window began to thin and he saw the reflective glimmer of the ocean on the horizon. (Also, he’d finished the last of the rum.) There was still a boozy fog clouding his perception, but the disastrous state of his sleeping car told him that he’d been exceptionally violent toward the sheets and furniture this year.

Which was to be expected, honestly. Other than his own games, and maybe Liam’s, he’d never been put through the wringer as roughly. He prayed to whoever was listening that the games would never be so terrible again. Maybe he could persuade Nemo to come out of retirement for next year so he could stay home; Gold might not like that, but fuck him. 

Gods, even just the thought of the man sent a shiver down Killian’s spine that had nothing to do with the epic hangover he was nursing. When Archie mentioned that Belle had been in the company of the president, it immediately drew his memories back to Milah. She was never far from his thoughts during the games, but the thought of Gold’s attention being directed at another beautiful, unsuspecting young woman—and how it might end for the lass—brought back anger he hadn’t felt in some time. It was a blessing Emma was there and knew to remove him from the situation. 

Finally being able to release all the fear he’d felt for Alice was equally cathartic. And not just during the games: from every reaping prior, from Olympus finding out about her parentage, and all the normal parents’ fears—though some remained, obviously. Watching and helping her navigate the next step of their insane lives was going to be interesting.

And then there was Emma. His fingers drifted to his lips; he was fairly certain he could still feel them tingling from her kiss, even days later. (It might have been the rum, but he liked to imagine otherwise.) It had completely taken him by surprise, yet somehow also hadn’t—like it had been the release they both needed after the days of tension. In his stupor, his mind had taken it even farther—envisioning scenes of passion between them that made his heart (and other parts) stutter. He knew it was all sorts of impolite and improper, but knowing she wasn't actually in love with Graham seemed to give his dreams free rein.

There was definitely something there between them. He couldn’t quite place what, but she stirred something in him that hadn’t reacted in a long time. He wouldn’t dare say his heart—not romantically, at least; as far as he was concerned, that part still belonged to Milah.

But maybe, just maybe, Emma was the one who would finally help him move on from her memory. And that terrified him just as much as losing Milah all over again.

The train slowed down, and he forced himself to pull it together. Making sure he was properly dressed and looking not-too-disheveled, he gathered his things and found Ariel in the windowed caboose.

“Feel better?” she asked, with a look on her face somewhere between concern and amusement.

“Aye, I might make it another year.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” She was definitely trying to get at something. Why was there a sparkle in her eye?

“I doubt there’s much to talk about, love. You likely heard the worst of it.” He had a tendency to do a lot of shouting in the condition he’d been in.

“Yeah, you could say that,” she said with a knowing smirk. “Don’t worry; I won’t tell Emma.”

Bloody hell.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

The sun was at its peak, but it struggled to break through the thick canopy of trees. Emma inhaled the strong pine scent; it brought her some temporary relief as she descended the steps from the train platform.

Home. She was home.

“Mom!” Henry’s voice called out to her, and she quickly scanned the small crowd gathered at the station until she found her son’s dark-haired head bobbing towards her. She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face as she dropped her bags and scooped him into a tight hug.

“I missed you,” he said into her shoulder.

“I missed you, too, kid.” She could have stood in her son’s embrace for hours had Graham’s voice not broken through just then.

“What, I’m invisible?” he joked. Henry let go of Emma and raced toward Graham. 

“I missed you, too, Dad.” Graham responded with a warm smile and a strong hug.

Emma wished the moment wouldn’t end, but she became intensely aware of eyes on her. She hesitantly looked up, and met the gaze of Marco, August’s father; Tamara’s family wasn’t far behind him. This was the part she was dreading.

It didn’t help that she’d just had her own reunion with her son right in front of them; how cruel. She nudged Graham with her elbow and said, “Henry, can you go wait with your grandparents? Your dad and I have something to take care of before we go home.” Her son ran off to her parents, who were waiting in the street.

Graham wordlessly grabbed her hand and squeezed; she didn’t have to look at him to know he wasn’t excited about this part, either, but they owed it to the families. 

Marco, painfully, thanked them for doing all they could; he was sincere, but it was hard for Emma to hear that; she’d already spent half the trip home wondering what she could have done better. Not that anyone really stood a chance against the Sherwood girls, but she was her own harshest critic. 

Tamara’s family was thankfully a bit more reserved. Knowing they were angry about it was probably better, since Emma was. She didn't want forgiveness; she wanted to do better. (Though, in reality, she wanted to never have to do this again.)

At least they were there, though. Every time she was here after the games, she flashed back to when Neal—well, his body—came home, and she was the only one to claim it.

Dark Knights were in charge of unloading the caskets, and Emma couldn't stick around for that; that was too much. So she and Graham excused themselves to where her parents were waiting.

“You did great,” her mom said as she hugged her. It didn't make Emma feel any better, but she supposed her mom knew better than anyone how she felt right now.

“And there's always next year,” her dad added, pulling her into his arms and cradling her head like he always had. It didn't matter if she was a full-grown adult with blood on her hands; that always made her feel better. 

With the hellos done, they started the short walk back to Victor’s Village and their side-by-side houses. Just as Emma expected, her mom asked for a full run-down of everything that happened; they may be happily retired, but Snow would never be fully able to pull herself out of the gossip of the games. 

“And the new victors! What are they like?”

“They're sweet,” Graham said; Emma had to hold back a scoff that anyone who won the games could be called that, but it did seem to be the case for Alice.

“Oh, good; they seemed to be. Eloise's daughter seems so different from her—which is probably a good thing. God, I just can't believe they weren't going to let them both win; that was heartbreaking.”

A very belated realization hit Emma: that must have been what Eloise and Jefferson were planning that night in the Game Center, when she and Killian brought the burn medicine. How was she just now seeing that?

(Probably because Killian was clouding her memory. For reasons. Fairly obvious ones.)

“Oh, and Killian! What was it like working with him?” God, her mom’s timing couldn't be more annoyingly perfect, could it? 

“It was great,” Graham answered, looking at her with a sly grin. “He knows what he’s doing, and actually, he and Emma worked great together.”

She promptly elbowed Graham in the side. She’d told him about the kiss—she had to—and he was way too encouraging about the whole thing. 

“Oh really? That’s so wonderful; those relationships are so great to have.” Her mom then rambled on about the people she would ally with over the years, but Emma’s mind stopped paying attention at the word ‘relationship’. Even if it was being used platonically, something in her read more into that.

Regardless of Graham’s reaction, what she’d told Killian was true: it had to be a one-time thing. Even if she’d see him again in a year at the next games. And the ones after that, and so on until she retired. But that wasn’t sustainable—a once-a-year fling? No. There were probably people who did that, but Emma couldn’t. Her heart wasn’t that flexible. 

Unbidden, her mind imagined what it could be like, though: sneaking away for quick encounters, the feeling of that taunting chest hair against her skin...no. It wasn’t gonna happen. But, goddammit, why did he have to have a sweet side? Why did he have to understand her so well?

“Mom, you alright?” Henry asked; she jolted at his voice, and then realized they were home. 

“Yeah, kid; just thinking about stuff.”

“I get it,” he said, in a tone that was far more mature than any 11-year-old had a right to be speaking in. “You had a long couple weeks.”

“Yeah, that's one way to put it,” she agreed. “But I'm glad to be home.”

“I'm glad, too,” he said, with a grin that looked more and more like his father’s every day. 

She shook her head, either to shake away the ghosts of the past or the ones that had been following her since the train pulled out of Olympus.

The only person she needed was Henry. 

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

Twelve years ago

Neal Cassidy was handsome, charming, sweet—everything a 16-year-old girl would fall for. And Emma had fallen—hard. He was her first kiss, her first love, and he was even polite to her parents, who had initially been a bit wary of the boy who had a reputation as something of a delinquent. 

(But, honestly, that was another part of his charm; Emma had been forced to be the image of grace and class ever since she was born. With Neal, she found a bit of freedom from that imposed burden.)

They were already sweethearts when her name was pulled at 16. He left her with a deep kiss that was part of her motivation to keep going in the Games (that and, you know, not wanting to die). And the first thing she did when she arrived home after winning—at least, in private—was return that kiss with all the passion of someone who had been on death’s doorstep but survived. 

For the next year, they were hardly out of each other’s company, save for her victory tour. The night before the next reaping—before she was expected back in Olympus—she gave herself to him, with no regrets.

“I just want to make sure you won’t forget me over the next few weeks,” she’d told him, winking.

“As if I could I ever,” he assured her.

But then his name was chosen the next day. And now it was her turn to give him a passionate kiss goodbye. (And again on the train...and in Olympus...and right before he left for the games.)

As his mentors, her parents did all they could to keep him alive. They were hoping for a repeat of their own story: both victors, able to go home and have a happily ever after. Emma desperately wanted to help, but there was nothing she could do but watch. 

And there was nothing anyone could do when the knife held by the Oz tribute found Neal’s back, again and again. Emma had watched helplessly from the Tribute Castle as the love of her life was murdered.

She barely remembered what happened after that; it was a good thing she had been trained to put on an act for the cameras since before she could talk. Pomem was a blur outside the train window, realms flashing by as she recounted their last shared moments. And she cried—she cried a lot. Somehow, her parents kept her from dehydrating, but knowing that his lifeless body lay just a few cars away...well, that just got her going again.

When they got home, she retreated to the woods, where they’d spent so many days running, exploring, kissing—all that fun stuff. The one perk of being a victor was that she didn’t really have any other responsibilities, so as long as she came home before dark, people let her be.

At least, until she started to get sick.

And when she realized that certain monthly things hadn’t happened in a while.

The doctor confirmed her fears: she was pregnant. With Neal’s child. (And then spent the rest of the day sobbing into her mother’s shoulder.)

To save face, they said Graham was the father; it gave Olympus another one of the sappy love stories they ate up. But behind closed doors, he promised her he’d be there to help her every step of the way. 

“You don’t have to do that,” she told him. “Think of what you’re giving up.” He’d never be able to be seen so much as giving a friend a kiss on the cheek; actual romance was off the table. (As for Emma...well, she was pretty sure her shot at that died a bloody death in Neverland.)

He looked away, eyes cast down. “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” he started, “but after seeing what you’ve gone through, and so many others...I don’t think my heart is able to withstand that.”

She didn’t tell him that the only reason she was even still standing was because of the concrete wall that surrounded her broken heart, holding it together.

But he was amazing; he was already one of her best friends, and he ended up being the best partner—and best father—she could have had at her side. He abided all her weird pregnancy cravings, accompanied her to all her physician appointments, even withstood her crazy mood swings.

Mood swings that were often accompanied by sparks of electricity coming out from her hands, surges of power that blew out the light bulbs in their home, and her inadvertent burning of any book she tried to read.

What a way to discover she had magic, huh? It turned out being taught to be calm and collected her whole life had kept it from manifesting while she was in Neverland; but apparently it couldn’t withstand pregnancy hormones. 

It took everything in her to keep that under wraps, too—placing it somewhere under that wall around her heart. Which mostly worked. (Not like she had an option; thankfully, knowing she was doing it to keep her child safe was pretty good motivation.)

When she finally went into labor, she had Graham on one side and her mother on the other. Somehow, the pain of birth still didn’t match the hurt of losing Neal, but it came damn close. 

The lights overhead flickered on that last push (there was no holding it back), and then—then he was there: Henry. A squirming, screaming, pink thing, but when they put him in her arms, she wasn’t sure she’d seen anything more beautiful. God, she wished Neal could have been there to see him.

But she looked to one side and saw her parents (her dad having snuck in), and to the other and saw Graham. Even if Neal was missing, Henry was still surrounded by love—by people who were always going to look out for and protect him.

“I promise you, Henry,” she whispered a while later, when it was just the two of them. “I will do everything I can to give you your best chance in this crazy world.”

And that included anything in her power to keep him away from the Games.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

Present day—Olympus

Jefferson was getting too old for this—and he wasn’t even that old. But these things had a way of weighing on a soul that not even the view from the window of his more-than-comfortable home could lift. (Neither could the glass of whiskey-laced tea he was nursing; at least the bottle was nearby.) His view of the border between Neverland and Olympus was soothing, with its varying types of trees serenely blending together, but also a constant reminder of what he did.

Another year passed, another games down. 18 more deaths on his hands. 18 more mothers having to bury their babies.

At least it’s not 19, a foreign positive voice somewhere deep inside told him as he took another sip of his drink, but that was hardly something to celebrate. It was only by the good graces of the President that both kids were able to win; part of him was worried about any repercussions, but the other part didn’t give a damn.

He was too good at his job. He was untouchable. And it drove him mad. (Which was probably why he was drinking alone and had a syringe of zolocybin at the ready; he knew better than to mix drugs and alcohol but again: he didn’t care.)

The next one is the last one, he reminded himself. It had almost become a mantra, having repeated it to himself countless times over the past few days since the end of the games. He thought of all the letters hidden here in his room, all the plans discussed, all the names on lists; as if on cue, his off-the-grid mobile phone rang, with the name Cora flashing on the screen. Their scheme would finally be put into motion over the next year. They finally had what they needed.

A symbol, something the people could rally behind: hope. Victory after impossible odds.

True love.

When Eloise came to him with her proposition to get both of her tributes out alive, he knew they finally had the last piece of the puzzle, the key to undoing everything.

His associates knew it, too, and the gears that had been slowly turning for years now kicked into high gear. The games may be over, but his job was just picking up.

There was still a long road ahead of them, though, and he needed to decompress. He tossed back the rest of his drink, put his phone on silent, and drew the blinds to his bedroom. Then he practically threw himself on his plush bed and grabbed the syringe; technically, zolocybin was a controlled substance, only to be used by medical professionals—but that didn’t mean it didn’t abound on the recreational drug market.

He popped the cap on it and methodically went over the process of injecting it into his arm, then settled back and waited for the effects to wash over him: first, sleep, then the kind of wild dreams that could only come from psychedelic hallucinogens. He could see why it was addictive, so he only allowed himself this one trip per year, to help him unwind.

Unconsciousness crept up in him quickly and he welcomed it. But even as he drifted off, one thing repeated in his mind:

The next one is the last one.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

thanks so much!! tagging some: @kat2609​ @thesschesthair​ @xpumpkindumplingx​ @shipsxahoy​ @amortentia-on-the-rocks​ @mryddinwilt​ @cocohook38​ @annytecture​ @wingedlioness​ @word-bug​ @distant-rose​​ @let-it-raines​​ @pirateherokillian​ @its-imperator-furiosa​​​ @laschatzi​​​ @stubblesandwich​​ @phiralovesloki​​ @athenascarlet​​ @snowbellewells​​ @idristardis​​ @scientificapricot​​ @searchingwardrobes​ @donteattheappleshook​ @ohmightydevviepuu​

[akatsuki-shin]

[REVIEW] The Untamed: The Living Dead

Before anyone asked, for those of you who wanted to watch this movie:

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WeTV said it will be available in their apps, too, but I'm not sure when they are going to release it, so just keep an eye on it.

If it's really on WeTV, then it means the movie can be watched from web, as well, via WeTV's website.

*** Spoilers ahead! You've been warned. ***

STORY: 7/10

Nothing outstanding, but not that bad either. Let's just say it's like one of those Extra Chapters in Mo Dao Zu Shi, a story of one of their night hunts after the end of the official story. It just happens that this night hunt is a tad bit more difficult than the usual, with a dash of existential crisis for Wen Ning.

So in summary, there was one servant in a prominent family's house who was apparently delusional enough to think that the Young Lady of the family cares deeply for him, and he fell in love with her. He hated the fact that there was a new disciple coming into the family, favored by the family head, became a couple with the Young Lady and they would soon get married.

Sounds like your usual soap opera drama......except this servant got black magic on his hands with a shard of Yin Iron which allows him to control others like a puppet.

Hence when he got found out, he destroyed the whole family and framed that disciple guy. But to his misfortune, he accidentally killed the Young Lady in the process. After that, he started using the disciple like a puppet to terrorize the people of the surrounding village, taking their souls in order to resurrect the Young Lady using his shard of Yin Iron.

Despite the plot being pretty much cliche, for a 90 minutes movie, I think the story itself is pretty solid. The fact that this servant being the actual villain was the big plot twist at the end because since the beginning (heck, even since the promotion of the movie), we were made to believe that the disciple guy was the root of the problem.

Also, since this movie took place after the end of the official story, when Wen Ning decided to go independent and no longer depending on Wei Wuxian, I think it's nice that there is a part of the movie when Wen Ning was trapped in that illusion, having his own self doubting his existence, trying to influence him to berate Wei Wuxian for making him a, well, living dead.

And although it happens inside the illusion, for The Untamed fans, it was a pleasant surprise when Wei Wuxian's figure appeared to save Wen Ning from the trap, ensuring him that he is different from all those controlled puppets ("WU JI" PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND, DAMN BRUH)

Still, there are a few things that - I'm not going to say "bad" - is quite questionable and probably could've been done differently.

I'm not going to ask how Zhao Yi got his hand of Yiling Laozu's manuscript. I'll take it with a grain of salt that probably when the Lanling Jin Sect was in chaos after Jin Guang Yao's dead, maybe someone really did able to snuck out a few things from Fragrant Chamber's Treasure Vault......although even if someone can do that, I don't think it's going to be Zhao Yi since he literally has no connection at all with the characters in The Untamed's main story.

But fine, let's just believe that he was somehow able to get it.

Then comes the next problem. How the heck is this guy able to create a shard of Yin Iron? Mind you, even Wei Wuxian didn't create his own shard of Yin Iron to make the Stygian Tiger Seal. He just happened to stumble across that Yin Iron Sword in the Xuanwu of Slaughter's Cave.

If even the Yiling Patriarch couldn't do it, how could a mere servant create a shard of Yin Iron from nothing?

Three of those shards were with Wen Ruo Han, and were destroyed after his death.

One shard was hidden by Xue Yang. Idk where this one goes, tbh, but I am inclined to believe Jin Guang Yao was the one who kept it in the end (CMIIW).

The last shard was within the sword Wei Wuxian found, then used to create the Stygian Tiger Seal.

Did the shard hidden by Xue Yang actually fell to this Zhao Yi's hand? Did he create it from scratch by following Yiling Patriarch's manuscript?

Either way, none of those sound logical for me, which is the biggest flaw of this movie in my opinion. They could've just said the villain was a sorcerer using black magic/demonic cultivation and it would've been fine. No need to put Yin Iron into the story.

Also it's a bit unclear to me how they handled Zhao Yi at the end. Wen Ning and Sizhui were shown walking in Gusu during the ending, but just before that, we clearly saw Wen Ning seemingly sending Zhao Yi into the same illusion trap that he experienced before.

So they just punished Zhao Yi based on their own judgment? Or did they still at least deliver his physical body to be imprisoned in Gusu?

And how the heck could they just finish the story with Wen Ning being the one who got to hold the Yin Iron, wtf?

Last but not least, this usually happens to most 90 minutes movies that I've watched - which is the pacing problem. Especially in the first half of the movie, the pacing was way too fast, they kept changing from one scene to the other as if they're in a rush. I know it's probably because of duration, but still it made me feel a bit uncomfortable following the flow of the story.

CHARACTERS: 7/10

Again, not bad, but nothing spectacular, as well.

I'm going to start with the 3 new characters: Zhao Yi, Xiao Qing, and Zhou Zishu.

Aside from Zhao Yi who got decent screen time due to him being the villain, I don't think the other two characters even got to do anything except dying after they finished telling the past.

A pity, considering that they were put in all promotional materials since the beginning. At least I had expected them to be a little bit more important.

As for Zhao Yi himself, I guess he did a fine job in the handful of screen time he got for this 90 minutes movie. I think his part is pretty solid despite the fast pacing of the movie. At least his background, his motive, and his way of doing things were all explained without any holes.

Now moving on to Lan Sizhui. I don't mean anything bad by this, but I feel that - despite the heck ton of screen time he got - he is barely any different from the rest of the side characters.

To be blunt, I feel like he's just there so Wen Ning got a friend he could talk to. True, he's matured compared to his self during The Untamed. He fought so much better. Heck, his action is really really REALLY cool.

But that's that. He's just there to be Wen Ning's sidekick. Even if he wasn't there, Wen Ning could've solved the case on his own, really.

Sorry, Sizhui. It ain't your fault. The plot makes you like this. :')

But again, as I said before, this story feels like another Extra Chapter after the main story, just another one of their night hunts. If we think about it from this perspective, it's not strange for Sizhui to simply be Wen Ning's sidekick. It just means that they happened to stumble upon the same case and worked together to solve it. Since Wen Ning is older and more experienced, he's "leading" the investigation while Sizhui is following and learning from him.

Now, Wen Ning.

If there is one thing I was more scared about before watching this movie, it's that I was afraid they would destroy Wen Ning's character. It's pretty clear if we see their promotional materials. Even from the make-up, Wen Ning looks so much cooler compared to his appearance during The Untamed. I was scared that they would destroy the Wen Ning that we know to create a brand new, super cool protagonist for this movie.

Well, in the end they didn't really destroy his character - which is a relief. In some aspects, Wen Ning did still retain some of his original nature. For one, he still listened to Wei Wuxian's words and kept it in his heart, hence why he insisted for Sizhui to start calling him "Senior/Brother" instead of "Uncle Ning" because Wei Wuxian said being called "Uncle" sounds old.

However, his demeanor still feels kinda foreign for me, including his interaction with Sizhui which feels like Wen Ning is being too blunt with him. Granted, we can argue that during the span of idk how many years since the end of the original story to here, Wen Ning must've matured and gained confidence in himself.

But the thing is, we did not see any of those happenings that made him the way he is right now, so it just feels strange to see a Wen Ning who does not stutter, does not doubt, and often speaks bluntly.

ACTION & SPECIAL EFFECTS: 8/10

I'm going to say first hand that during the climax battle, I was actually snickering throughout the whole fight because it feels like one of those Tokusatsu movie where Wen Ning and Sizhui did a henshin and suddenly become super powerful. x'D

But aside of that, the action of this movie is just SUPER DUPER GREAT, at least compared to The Untamed. You can tell that they got high budget for this movie, finally.

The fights no longer feel awkward. You know there are people being hung and flung about by wires, but their movements overall look natural. At least you don't see them forgetting to completely erase the traces of wire from the final product, unlike when Jin Ling was fighting against the Goddess Statue at Dafan Mountain in Episode 2 of The Untamed.

And the CGI/special effects completely support this. First of all, Wen Ning's chains look mighty fabulous and the animation is perfectly in line with his body movement.

Then there's Lan Sizhui. Damn this boy is really killing it. No wonder he is Han Guang Jun's child. The way he fought with the Guqin is just A++++ 

The only downside is that Gusu CGI at the end which look totally unnatural. Like, man, I can totally imagine them just walking on green screen there.

OVERAL SCORE: 7.3/10

Not exactly spectacular or mind blowing, but it does have some surprising elements and the actions exceeded my expectations.

I don't think non-MDZS/The Untamed fans will be able to fully enjoy this movie, but otherwise it's a good watch. I think they really went all-out for the actions. It's simply the winning element of the entire show.

Bottom line is, I will treat this movie as an Extra Chapter of The Untamed/MDZS. Just our beloved Uncle Ning and his nephew going out on a night hunt and happened to stumble across a difficult case, hence they worked together to put an end to it.

And last but not least:

Wei Wuxian when he saw this translation:

I mean... WHAT THE HECK IS MASTER OF YI TOMBS??? x’DD