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#i do like how it turned out though all things considered
sabertoothwalrus · 3 days
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I'm going to think out loud about the dungeon meshi ages for a sec
I'm going to preface this by saying that this is based on my existing knowledge, and fact checking is difficult because there is A LOT of contentious research out there.
First of all, I think a lot of people come at this from a modern lens, forgetting the context that this is fantasy medieval era. this is fiction. on top of that, this is specifically Ryoko Kui's understanding of medieval era aging. plus fantasy. So before anyone comes at me with a bunch of 'ermmmm actualy's just consider that I don't really care and also it might not matter in this context lol
as far as the "age of maturity" assigned for each race, something I don't see many people talk about is that "teenagers" are a fairly recent concept. For a long time, you were either considered A Kid or Not A Kid. but this doesn't necessarily mean kids were more/less developed then, just our cultural expectations for certain age groups have changed.
Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen is 16. I don't think that means 16 year olds in the dungeon meshi universe are necessarily "more mature" than modern 16 year olds, but moreso that they have more responsibilities. However, things like medicine, smoking, drinking, sun exposure, physical activity, etc all affect age, so it's possible that developmentally they're closer to modern 18 year olds? Izutsumi is 17 (less than two weeks from turning 18, actually), and very much acts like a modern 17 year old.
The age of maturity for half-foots is 14. Chilchuck was 13 when he got married and had his first two children. Even though, at age 29, he's the equivalent of a modern 50 year old, I don't think he was That much more developed at 13 than a tallman. I think if half-foot 14 is equal to tallman 16, then Chilchuck was Pretty Damn Young for a parent LMAO. Even if you're generous and say tallman 16 is a modern 18, he still would've been younger than that.
The long-lived races are interesting. Marcille is obviously a unique case, and not a lot of this applies to her. We do know what Senshi was like as a minor (miner, lol), and he seemed like a modern 15ish, considering he was 36 and dwarf maturity is 40. I think it'd be really interesting to delve into how a culture functions with people being developmentally adolescent for soooooo long. Imagine middle school lasting 20 years. that would fucking suck. I suppose it makes sense why long-lived races are so patronizing.
Moving onto lifespans, I want to emphasize that they're average lifespans. Even in the manga, they say some half-foots live to 100, it's just rare. So it's less that a tallman 60 year old is "older" than a modern 60 year old, it's that it's easier to keep people alive for longer nowadays. Modern medicine is a BIG contributor. Dental health as well, considering how much your health is affected by your diet (and how much the action of chewing alone aids in digestion). Curious to know what the FUCK elven dentistry is like.
It also makes me wonder if half-foots would have a longer average lifespan if they weren't like, used for bait and treated so poorly, but half-foot 29 does seem to be middle-aged for half-foots. so who knows!
In that vein, I don't know if I can see Mithrun quite making it to 400 😬 like, his experience as a dungeon lord took a lot out of him quite literally, and he's doing exceptionally well despite it! I imagine he'd eventually start to develop a lot of heart problems if he doesn't have them already. Perhaps early-onset dementia. His memory seems still quite intact (he corrects Kabru on his story's accuracy) and he doesn't act like, lobotomized. He doesn't seem forgetful or confused, and he has a sense of humor/sarcasm still. It's mostly his task initiation that's been affected.
I almost want to say that mana affinity could affect long-lived races' lifespans, except dwarves have very poor tolerance for mana, so it's probably not that.
okay anyway I didn't really have a point to this post so I'm just gonna end my rambling here
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euthymiya · 3 days
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help me forget (until my only memories are you) ft. wriothesley
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in which wriothesley is plagued with dreams of his past, tucked away in the quietest corner of the fortress until you find him. a thermos of tea, an ocean view, and a heartfelt conversation later, you both decide your memories only matter when they’re of each other
contains: 2.1k word count ; female reader ; established relationship ; hints at wriothesley’s backstory, including mentions of blood and murder ; nightmares and trauma (wrio) ; reverse comfort ; fluff and (cheesy) banter
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“thought i’d find you here,” you say quietly as you walk up to wriothesley—it’s quiet enough that’s it’s almost as if you’re trying not to startle him.
(and yes, it’s a bit of a pointless gesture. you know he can hear your footsteps approaching him for a good distance before you even reach him, but, all things considered, you don’t think a little extra gentleness will hurt him.)
“well, looks like you found me,” he hums, legs spread out before him as he stares through the glass. he’s eyes the ocean, his pupils following the schools of fish and casts of crabs as they swim past the glass tunnel that separates you from the water.
the glass tunnel in the fortress is wriothesley’s favorite spot. for a number of reasons, really—first, the inmates aren’t allowed here without official permission, so he has the area to himself for the most part. second, there’s some sort of sign of life to witness, something breathing and moving apart from the rowdy bunch of prisoners he’s in charge of every day. and third, it’s nice to see colors, something vivid and lively outside of rusted metal and dingy lighting.
wriothesley loves this tunnel. it helps him appreciate his life, his home, when he’s especially regretful he doesn’t get to live up at the surface. that regret doesn’t come very often—he’s happy with the life he’s made for himself and the family he’s grown here, but he’s only human.
sometimes even the warden would like to know what it feels like to wake up under the sun, feeling the rays kiss the skin of his cheeks like a mother does her son, so warm and gentle and endlessly filled with love.
he supposes a mother’s love is as unreachable as the sun for him, a regretful conclusion he’s long come to since the tender age of early teen hood.
you plop down beside him, tucking yourself against his side as you hand him a small thermos, making him quirk a brow up.
“tea,” you explain, “i figured it would help.”
“aren’t you sweet?” he chuckles, unscrewing the top and pouring the warm, freshly brewed tea into the lid as he takes a slow sip. he turns, pressing the rim to your lips, letting you take your own sip before he sighs and wraps an arm around you. “did i wake you?”
“of course,” you huff theatrically, “i was so cold. do you have any idea how cold the fortress gets at night without a big, strong, muscled warden to keep you warm?”
he snorts, eyeing you with an amused glance as you bite back your own grin.
“well, my dear lady, i offer my sincerest apologies. you will never wake up cold again.” he indulges your banter with a tight grin.
wriothesley is good at that—good at pretending his feelings don’t exist, pretending he doesn’t feel them in favor of putting on a brave face. you see through the tiny cracks of his mask, though. you can see the tousled hair and bruised under eyes from his lack of sleep. you can see the sore knuckles of his hands from punching bags. you can see the distant, hazy look in his eyes as he stares off into the never ending sea ahead, not sparing you the usual soft gaze he sends your way.
wriothesley is good at pretending everything is okay. just as good as you are at knowing when it isn’t okay at all.
“i’d rather i don’t wake up alone,” you trace the scar along his chest with a finger, visible from the neckline of the tank top he wears to sleep. he doesn’t say anything, swallowing as he swirls the contents in his makeshift cup, purposefully avoiding your gaze. “wriothesley.”
“i’m sorry,” he mumbles, “i figured i’d let you sleep.”
“you don’t need to apologize,” you furrow your brows, hooking a finger under his chin and gently coaxing him to turn and meet your eyes, “i’m not mad, baby. it’s okay.”
“i know,” is all he says.
“will you talk to me?” your head lays against his chest, grabbing one hand and fiddling with his fingers, lacing them with yours as you compare the size of his rough, rugged palm against yours while his other hand lifts the cup to take a long, slow sip of the tea.
it’s hot against his throat, soothing the raw, dryness that builds.
“don’t i talk to your ear off enough through the day?” he tries to tease, deflecting the topic that you try to breach. but you’re good at following just as he is at running—you bring his knuckles up to your lips as you kiss them one by one, so gentle, so feather like in touch, he can’t help but shiver.
“so you’re tired of talking to me?” you tease back, making his lips twitch fractionally.
“nah,” he breathes a small laugh, “never tired of you.”
“that’s good to know,” you exhale a relieved breath, still playful and lighthearted as you add, “i thought you were running away from me while i slept.”
“i’d have come back.” his voice is low, barely audible—you hear it anyway, feeling the rumble of his words through the vibrations in his chest. “you kick the blanket off. someone’s gotta tuck you in.”
“well you didn’t come back before i had to come find you,” you point out. “so tell me, what’s on that mind of yours? can’t be nothing if you leave me cold and alone in our bed.”
“just a silly old dream,” he shrugs off, laughing dryly as he says, “nothing a tough warden like me can’t handle.”
“oh yeah?” you press gently, leaning up to kiss his jaw with a delicate, warm press of your lips. it makes him swallow thickly, inhaling a shaky breath as he nods.
“yeah.”
“you don’t have to handle it,” you offer carefully, “not alone, at least. you know that, baby?”
“do i look that troubled?” he smiles weakly, but it drops as soon as your hand cups his cheek, pulling him to lean in until his forehead is pressed against yours and his eyes can’t leave their spot of looking directly at you.
“do you trust me?” you whisper. he nods, unable to speak. “i love you, you know.”
“i know,” he croaks. “i love you too.”
“so then talk to me.” your hand falls from his cheek to his chest, laying right on his heart while your other hand squeezes his as it keeps it in its hold.
so he does. with a shaky sigh, he tells you about them, the things he sees in his sleep.
sometimes, wriothesley has dreams. dreams of his mother brushing back his hair with her fingers as she wakes him for breakfast. dreams of his father patting his back as he throws a ball to one of his brothers. dreams of childlike, gleeful laughter ringing through his ears in a muffled, distant sound before it morphs into pained, horrified screams.
his legs carry him down the hallway of his childhood home, bare feet pounding against the hardwood until finally, he turns to corner into his living room. and there he stands—face to face with himself. one version of him in crumpled pajamas and another in oversized, scuffed up clothes like he’s drifted from street to street. he stares at himself, only he notices he looks older, more distant, more tired.
and then he notices the blood. it’s everywhere—on his hands, splattered on his face, dripped onto his clothes, pooled on the floor.
blood is everywhere. it coats the same floors he ran on, stains the same walls his height was marked against. it dirties every happy memory of this house of his, no longer a home.
w-what have you done? he asks his older self.
the boy—the one with his own face—glares down at him, so angry and betrayed, so unlike his happy self as he mutters, what had to be done.
and then he wakes up. he’s always covered in cold sweat, panting, and shuffled far, far away from your peaceful and beautiful sleeping figure. how can he wake you? how can he disrupt your pure, sweet state to wipe the blood spilt on his hands? how can he ask you to carry the heaviness of his sins when you’re so free and weightless from that darkness that plagues someone like him?
you listen as he spills his heart, quiet and unmoving against his side as your palm never leaves his chest. his eyes follow the movement of the fish outside of the glass while he speaks, and your eyes trace over the new red, angry marks on the back of his hand.
“just thought i’d come down here to clear my head,” he confesses, “you looked like you were tired.”
“i’d have woken you,” you admit, looking up at him. he meets your stare, furrowing his brows in confusion until you add, “if i had a bad dream, i mean. because you’re the only place i feel safe.”
he breathes out a soft chuckle, cheek laying on the crown of your head as he whispers, “it’s ’cause of the muscles, right? years of boxing will do that to a guy.”
“so what i’m gathering is that i have to take up boxing for you?” you grin, nudging him with your shoulder playfully as he bites his bottom lip to fight back his grin, shaking his head at your antics.
“i just don’t want to wake you every other night.”
“i want you to wake me every night if you have to,” you frown, reaching over and giving his forehead a reprimanding flick with your fingers, “it’s what i’m here for. what’s the point of being together if you’re going to be all alone, wriothesley?”
“i’m not alone,” he argues, lifting your joined hands before his warm lips press a lingering kiss to the back of an equally as warm hand. “i have you.”
you blink, staring at him blankly. “you just kissed your own hand, you fool.”
“right,” he nods, flushing a slight shade of pink before he twists his wrist to kiss the proper hand, “it was on purpose. it’s self love and all that good stuff, you know?”
“uh huh,” you lift a brow, snorting as you shake your head. he gives you a sly wink, leaning down to kiss your lips briefly as you shuffle closer against his side. “you know,” you breathe against his lips, “sometimes we dream about our pasts because our minds want to change something about them.”
“oh? i suppose i could think of a thing or two to change about mine. maybe a happy childhood. maybe the ability to trust people. that’d be nice, don’t you think?”
“i would change mine,” you admit, making him stare at you for a moment as he ponders over your words.
“would you now? and what would you change?”
“i’d meet you sooner,” you hum, “we could be like the cute stories, you know? childhood friends turned destined lovers. wouldn’t that be sweet?”
he looks at you quietly for a bit—dazed, awed, slightly bewildered. you couldn’t possibly want to know a guy like him in your youth, he thinks. how utterly foolish. but there’s no denying that unbearable, pressured clench of his heart, right where only you can reach to squeeze.
“of all stories,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “that’s what you want for yourself? childhood friends to lovers with a premeditated homicide convict that reforms a prison in his adulthood?”
“a traumatized homicide convict,” you correct, “that’s the part that gives it nuance, you know?”
“oh, you’re right,” he nods sarcastically, “how silly of me.”
“don’t laugh at me,” you huff, pouting at him as you poke his chest, “i’m serious. i’d meet you sooner if i could.”
“me too,” he murmurs, pecking your lips in a wordless apology. you accept with a soft kiss of your own in return. “i’d have met you way sooner too, sweetheart.”
“maybe you’ll dream it some day,” you wink cheekily.
“let’s hope i do,” he laughs, pulling you to sit between his legs, your back to his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs in content. “you’re the only place too, by the way,” he adds after a few moments, breath tickling the shell of your ear as he whispers the words.
“hmm?” you tilt your head in confusion, gasping when his arms wrap tightly around you, his face burying into your neck as he presses a tickling kiss into your skin.
“where i feel safe.”
“oh,” you breathe, smiling slightly in wonder, “good. then you’ll wake me next time?”
“will it keep you warmer in this cold, unforgiving fortress of ours?”
“oh yes,” you nod, giggling lightly. “very warm.”
he smiles into your skin, replacing the vivid images of blood in his mind with the soft hues of your eyes. “then i suppose i have no choice but to wake you.”
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childhood friends to lovers with wrio where reader flips neuvillette off and marches down to the fortress and drags wrio back up to the overworld by the wrist when he’s convicted bc she makes the rules around these parts
jk i love you neuvi my sweet angel dragon
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thewritingrowlet · 3 days
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The Outing Trip pt. I, ft. tripleS Xinyu
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tags: daddy kink, anal teasing, creampie, praise kink (just a bit), rough
tw: violence (OC takes a punch in the face, nothing crazy I promise)
word count: 12k+
author's note: this is the first part of a small series (4 parts max.) inspired by an anon's idea of a university outing trip (minus the "stranded in an island due to a storm with a bunch of girls" part) featuring a handful of tripleS members. This part also mentions Yooyeon, Nakyoung, Dahyun, and Chaeyeon as I consider them to be candidates to be featured in future parts.
p.s. after I finish writing part 2 of this series, I'm gonna stop writing about tripleS members for one or two fics. Let me know if you think there's anyone (who is over the age of 18 in May 2024) that needs attention (be it bcs they're from a less-popular group, or bcs they only debuted recently and you're a fan, etc).
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It is now September. The hot summer days are starting to go and be replaced by the chiller and refreshing days of shorter daylight that autumn usually has in its bag. September is also the month where every single student organization in the university goes on outings to welcome their new members. That includes the student council that you’re the president of. You’re having a meeting with a bunch of council staffs and governors—the term your university uses to refer to council leaders on the faculty level because the university wants to replicate real-world governmental structure—in about 10 minutes to talk about details about the outing itself. Everyone will be wearing their uniform, which is a sight you find to be cute.
“President-oppa!”, you hear a girl’s voice behind you as you’re walking to the meeting place, so you turn around to see who it is. You see Xinyu, the council’s vice president who also happens to be your lovely girlfriend, walking like a supermodel towards you. “Hey, princess”, you greet her before taking her hand and pecking it. Xinyu loves it when you do those two things (call her “princess” and kiss her hand), blushing every time she sees you do it. You, on the other hand, don’t really care if her fondness of praises is a sign of narcissism because no one can tell you she doesn't deserve such treatment. You also don’t really care about displaying affection in public—why wouldn’t you want to show affection to your perfect-in-every-aspect girlfriend all the time? It also serves as an announcement that both you and Xinyu are off-limits since the relationship is not a secret.
“O-oppa”, she looks down at her shoes to hide the red hue on her cheeks, “you always do these sweet things to me”. You wrap an arm around her waist, “because you deserve it, sweetie”. She twiddles her index fingers in shyness, “but my heart can only take so much of it in a day, oppa”. “Skill issue, baby”, you chuckle—how adorable is it that you’ve been dating her for over a year and living together in an apartment for almost as long and she still gets overwhelmed with your sweet gestures and words?
“Xinyu-yah”, you throw a lifebuoy to save her from drowning in her own thoughts, “we need to get to get there fast, baby; there’s only a few minutes left and we’re the last people who get to be late”. You take her hand and start running, making Xinyu yell in surprise and possibly turn some people’s heads. You stop running when you’re in front of the elevator and press the button to go up. It’s nice that the elevator doesn’t have a CCTV in it, because you can share a bit of intimacy with Xinyu by pecking her on the lips and forcing a blush once again—her poor heart is guaranteed to give out by the end of the day. “Oppa, I really can’t take much of this anymore”, Xinyu complains. “Of course you can, what are you talking about?”, you laugh. You and Xinyu need to put on a serious face soon, though, as the elevator doors are opening, and you’ll be met with people outside.
“I thought you two were going to be late, not gonna lie”, Nakyoung, Xinyu’s best friend and fellow council member, greets you at the doors of the auditorium. “Do you really think that low of us, Nakyoung-ah?”, Xinyu protests. Nakyoung laughs, “not really, no—just thought maybe you ran off on a date or something”. Xinyu pinches Nakyoung’s cheeks in annoyance, making a small scene in front of a bunch of council members. You shake your head in amusement, “alright, that’s enough, kids. Is everyone here, Nakyoung-ah?”. “Almost; the Faculty of Medicine’s governor will be late. She’s still assisting in a lab and said you can start without her”, Nakyoung explains before taking you and Xinyu’s hands and pulling the both of you into the auditorium. You look at the clock hanging on the wall and see that you’re perfectly on time—perfectly calculated, if you say so yourself.
“Good afternoon, governors. Thank you for taking the time for today’s little meeting”, you take the center spot on the stage. You sometimes wonder why you talk and act like this in front of fellow students but since the university wants this to be as authentic of an experience as possible, you can’t help but play along. “This is September, and you guys know what it means: we need to welcome the new members of our councils on both the university and faculty level. Would someone kindly kick us off and report their preparation progress?”, you see the Faculty of Science’s governor, Kim Yooyeon, raise her hand so you step to the side and let her take your spot on the stage.
She starts presenting the things she and her members have done to prepare, such as consulting with the dean, surveying the area she wants to go to, and calculating the cost of the entire thing. You admire her thoroughness and ability to think ahead—the girl students call the goddess isn’t just known for her looks, but also sharpness of mind. Just one thing, though: she doesn’t like attention, as shown by the way she jogs back to her seat while partially covering her face after she’s done talking. “Thank you, Yooyeon-ah—oh, hello, Jiwoo-yah!”, you greet Son Jiwoo, the aforementioned governor from the Faculty of Medicine who just entered the room. “Hi, hello”, she rushes to her seat, “sorry for being late, I was needed in the lab”. “No, you’re fine, sweetie. Let’s continue, though”, your over-friendliness spills out and Xinyu glares at you from her seat, but you miss it since you don’t have eyes on the back of your head.
One governor after the other takes turns to present their plans; some have come up with elaborate plans, while others have simpler ideas as to how to welcome their new members. Once everyone is done presenting their plans, you wrap up the meeting (not without expressing appreciation to everyone) and let them go so that they can go about the rest of their day. Yooyeon stays behind, probably because she has some things to discuss with the three of you. “Hey, guys”, she approaches slowly, “I want to talk about something, but can we get out of here first? This auditorium keeps reminding me of some of my hardest days”. “Yeah, sure. Lead the way, unnie”, Nakyoung says before suggesting another idea, “are you guys free, by the way? We can talk over some food if you are—oppa will pay since he’s the richest among us”.
Nakyoung and Yooyeon walk side-by-side while holding hands, while you and Xinyu walk behind them with your hands intertwined. Xinyu then slows down her steps, creating a decent gap between Nakyoung and Yooyeon. “Oppa”, she tugs your hand, a hint of sadness in her voice, “you.. you’re not interested in Jiwoo-unnie, are you?”. Her question catches you off guard, “Jiwoo-unnie? Son Jiwoo? No, of course not. Why?”. “You, um, were a little too friendly with her earlier—I mean, she is pretty, so I understand”, she sulks. You try to recount what happened during the meeting, and you realize that you called her “sweetie”—that pet name is supposed to be reserved for Xinyu only. You instantly feel a huge wave of guilt at the realization, “I’m so sorry, baby. I promise you it was nothing but a slip up”. She lets go of your hand and hugs the clipboard she’s holding with both arms, “please don’t do that again. I-I didn’t like it”, she says.
She refuses to hold your hand for the rest of the walk, and that’s a hint the size of a mountain that you’ve fucked up and you’ll need to make it up to your princess. You finally arrive at the student-favorite noodle spot after a few minutes of walking. It’s not too packed since most students are in class, considering what time it is. Nakyoung joins your group after ordering for everyone. Yooyeon sits across Nakyoung, so that leaves Xinyu no option but to sit across you. Only when she sits down can you see her teary eyes, “you fucked up and now you’re in trouble, son”, your heart says. “Okay, unnie, we’re here. So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”, Nakyoung says. Yooyeon scratches the back of her head, “oh, um, I actually just wanted to hang out with you guys. You seem to be a fun trio to be around”. You chuckle, “yeah, that’s fine, we were getting food regardless. Welcome to the fold, I guess”. You arrange your words more carefully this time because you don’t want to fuck things up even further.
-
You’re now standing at the bus stop after the meal, still surrounded by your friends. “So, what now?”, you ask. Nakyoung, oblivious to your situation with Xinyu, throws her idea into the ring, “let’s go to your place, oppa. I really wanna lay down on that gloriously soft and fluffy sofa of yours”. You glance at Xinyu, who doesn’t seem to hate the idea, and nod in agreement to the idea, “yeah, we can do that. What about you, Yooyeon-ah? You have other classes after this?”. “N-no, ca-can I join you again? I-I don’t have many friends, you see”, Yooyeon hides her face behind her hands after saying that—you never knew a goddess could be so shy around people and have so few friends, but here you are. “Alright, let’s get on that bus so that we don’t have to walk to the parking lot”, you point to the approaching yellow campus bus—the off-site parking lot is not too far but you just can’t be assed to walk at the moment.
Doesn’t take long for the bus to arrive and take the four of you to the parking lot. You lead them to your car and Yooyeon makes a comment when she sees it, “nice car, Jisung-ah”. “I’m telling you, Jisung-oppa is rich, unnie. Daddy and mommy’s money, right, oppa?”, Nakyoung chimes in to tease you—this mischievous cat never runs out of ideas to tease her friends. “Well, when you put it like that”, you say. You’re never one to brag about your wealth, so you simply thank Yooyeon for the compliment and unlock the car so that your friends can get in. Xinyu gets in the front passenger seat like usual while the other two sit in the middle row.
You’re now out of the parking lot and on the way back to your apartment. “I need to stop at a convenience store, sorry. I need to buy something”, you say to your friends. “I bet he’s buying condoms”, Nakyoung chirps. Xinyu is probably not too entertained with what Nakyoung is suggesting, but they tease each other like that all the time. “I promise you I’m not”, you say as you pull into the driveway of the convenience store. “You guys do it raw, Xinyu-yah?”, Nakyoung lets out a fake surprise gasp at the end. “Kim Nakyoung, I promise I will throw you out the window of our apartment if you keep teasing me”, Xinyu says. “Look at them, unnie; they live together and have unprotected sex all the time”, Nakyoung turns to Yooyeon, who hides her face behind her palms again. You roll your eyes and get out of the car—you just want to get Xinyu’s favorite chocolate and snacks, it is not supposed to be this difficult, ever.
-
You finally arrive at your building after a short drive from the university. You hop off the car and walk in front, and would you look at that: Xinyu is wrapping a hand around your arm and leaning her head against your shoulder; “glad you’re feeling better, baby. I’m so sorry for being an ass”, you whisper to her. “I can’t stay mad at you for long, oppa, you know this”, Xinyu whispers back. Nakyoung is used to seeing your public display of affection, but Yooyeon, who is hanging out with your bunch for the first time, is not; she’s probably looking away so that she doesn't have to see this. You walk to the elevator and continue to your unit followed by the three girls, until you finally arrive at the door. Xinyu does the honors and unlocks the door before running into the bedroom. “Welcome to our little apartment, girls. Please make yourself at home”, you stand to the side and let them in. Nakyoung, as she has promised earlier, runs straight to your sofa and lies down on it, “Little apartment, my ass—oh my God, it’s so comfortable; this thing must be mad expensive. Unnie, come here, what are you doing?”, she invites Yooyeon who’s standing awkwardly in the doorway. “You can go with her, Yooyeon-ah. Please, make yourself comfortable”, you encourage her.
You then make your way to the bedroom to follow Xinyu and close the door behind you, you see that she has ditched her shirt for a white sleeveless tee that fits her perfect body like a bespoke glove. “I know you bought me snacks. Show me where they are or I will, I will—what’s a good one—not kiss you for the rest of the day”, she knows she can’t threaten you to save her life, so she must improvise to make herself sound scary. You chuckle and fish a bar of chocolate and a bunch of chips out of the bag, “for you, princess”. “Oh my God, chocolate too?! Thank you, oppa, you’re the best!”, she happily accepts your tribute and rips open a bag of chips. You peck the girl who’s munching so enthusiastically on the forehead, “anything for you, love. My world is dark without you”. Xinyu blushes at your words, “I can say the same about you, oppa. You know that right?”. You open your mouth to answer her, but that’s when you hear a knock on the door. “Oppa, Xinyu­-yah, are you guys done having sex? Yooyeon-unnie wants to talk”, Nakyoung says from the other side of the door.
Xinyu rushes out of the bedroom and flicks Nakyoung’s forehead, “we were not having sex, God damn it!”. You follow Xinyu out of the bedroom and head to the dining table, “play nice, girls. Come, we can talk here”, you call out to your friends. Yooyeon joins you on the table, followed by Xinyu and Nakyoung who have broken their little scuffle. “Before we start”, you poke Xinyu on the shoulder, “order some pizza for us, sweetie. We can get your favorite”. Xinyu runs back to the bedroom to get her phone and order her favorite pizza—food is truly the bullet train to her heart (and pants but we’ll save that for later). She high-steps her way to the table to join you, seemingly excited at the prospect of having her favorite pizza. She stops next to you and pecks you on the cheek, “I love you”, she says. “I love you more, sweetie. Sit, please”, you pull a chair for her. Nakyoung sighs, “I know you just joined us, unnie, but I guarantee that you’ll get tired of seeing these two act like this very soon”. “Oh, uh, I personally find it cute, actually. I’m happy for them; I hope I can experience that myself one day”, Yooyeon confesses before looking away.
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“It’s nothing crazy, really”, Yooyeon starts, “I was just curious about your council’s plans to welcome the new members of your own. I-I was thinking maybe I discuss it if that’s okay with you guys”. Xinyu gets excited hearing those words, “of course, unnie. We would love that”. “Can you tell me a summary first?”, Yooyeon says. You tell her how you and Xinyu plan to do a 3-day trip to the nearby island that also happens to be a famous tourism destination. Nakyoung helps explain the schedule and agendas that she and another council member have come up with. Lastly, Xinyu explains other details such as logistics, methods of transportation, and accommodation; “we are prohibiting alcohol for this trip, by the way. The last thing we need is some drunk freshmen fucking things up”, she adds. “How do you plan to do that, exactly?”, Yooyeon inquires. “Well, I called the manager of the accomodation and specifically and precisely asked them to not sell anyone from our group alcohol and to notify ask should someone try”, Xinyu explains.
Yooyeon gets up from her seat and asks for your permission to get water, so you tell her to get some from the dispenser in the kitchen. She then gets back in her seat and starts talking again. “So, president, vice president, and—what are you again?”, Yooyeon turns to Nakyoung, who lets out a frustrated grunt, “Oh, God damn it—I’m the secretary and the third wheel to the president and vice president. Remember that, please”. “Right, sorry”, Yooyeon clears her throat, “The reason I wanted to talk to you guys is because I have some potential candidates that might be able to join you guys in the council at the university level”. “Okay, go on”, you encourage her to keep talking. “They initially wanted to join us at the faculty, but we couldn’t accept them simply because we were full. I was thinking that maybe these two can thrive under your flag instead”. “Names, unnie?”, Nakyoung asks as she pulls out her phone to write their names. “Seo Dahyun, born in ‘03, and Kim Chaeyeon, born in ‘04”, Yooyeon says, “Dahyun had to retake the SAT for the second time; that’s why it took her a bit longer to get here, but that fact doesn’t take anything away from her, I assure you”.
Yooyeon obviously knows these people better than anyone in the room, since she knows them and has interviewed them personally, so the three of you decide to trust her perception of them. Xinyu arranges an interview for each of them tomorrow at noon—no precise time yet since you’ll need to confirm their schedules with each of them. Yooyeon gives Nakyoung their numbers and she starts hitting them up on CocoaSpeak. “One more thing, Jisung-ah”, she looks at you, “I want to be in the room where it happens”. “Sure, you can be there with us for the interview”, you say to her. “Won’t that be too intimidating?”, Xinyu utters her concern. Yooyeon shakes her head in disagreement, “these two don’t get intimidated easily, they’ll be fine”.
You hear a buzz from the door, so you ask Xinyu to get the pizza from the delivery guy. You make sure to pay attention to the exchange because Xinyu has had a bad experience with a degenerate delivery guy who thought that she was attractive and decided to take his 1-in-a-billion chance. You understand that you can take the pizza yourself but letting her do it helps Xinyu overcome her trauma as she knows that you have her back. Xinyu slams the door a bit too roughly and runs back towards the dining table. “I present to you, the Zhou Xinyu Special!”, she opens the box and puts it down on the table. Yooyeon keeps staring at the large pizza on the table in confusion, until Nakyoung notices and pokes her in the arm to get her attention, “it’s a pizza with ground beef, pepperoni, mushroom, and extra cheese, unnie—they use a lot of cheese, hence the pie-like visual”. “Ah, I see”, Yooyeon nods after hearing the explanation.
You take a slice from the box and start eating, followed by the three girls. “I’ve eaten this pizza so often, but it still amazes me every time. You really know your way around food, don’t you, Xinyu-yah?”, Nakyoung remarks. “Of course, food is the second thing I love the most in this world after oppa”, Xinyu says before exclaiming at the taste of her favorite pizza. “I love you too”, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before pecking Xinyu on the cheek. Xinyu blushes after hearing your words and receiving a peck, as she tries to hide her face behind the slice of pizza in her hand. “You two are so cute”, Yooyeon comments, not helping Xinyu overcome the heat on her cheeks.
The four of you start talking about a bunch of topics, from how Yooyeon initially wanted to join the university’s council but got rejected, how Nakyoung met Yooyeon for the first time and thought that she was a cold and scary person, and, at Yooyeon’s request, how you and Xinyu started dating. You explain that you had known Xinyu for a while as a fellow member of the council during freshman year but only admired her from afar. The two of you were then placed in the same group for a community service project the president at the time had come up with. “Xinyu was crying alone after the first day because of how exhausting and hard it was, so I mustered up the courage to approach her and offered to take her to dinner because I always hate seeing a girl cry, no matter what reason she might have. I actually was so scared that she would push me away instead of taking my offer”, you explain to the small crowd in front of you. It’s now Xinyu’s time to tell her side of the story; “I saw how kind oppa really is behind his rich guy façade; he was super helpful and attentive to everyone that day and there was no way I would’ve pushed him away—I wanted him for myself”. Xinyu leans against your shoulder before continuing her speech, “After our first time having sex, he revealed that I was his first and all I could think about was how I hoped he had been my first as well—I’m so sorry, oppa”. You squeeze her hand, “there’s nothing to be sorry for, love. You’re here with me now”.
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Everyone has dispersed from the dining table and is now in their own worlds. Yooyeon is looking at notes on her tablet, Nakyoung is lying on the sofa with her eyes closed, Xinyu is chilling in the bedroom, and you’re sitting on the toilet with your phone in hand. You’re mindlessly scrolling through social media until you see a notification from Xinyu. It’s a picture of her lying in bed in her pajamas with one of the dolls you bought for her. “How cute”, you think to yourself. She sees that you’re not replying to her, so she expresses her unhappiness, “>: say something already”. “I’m busy, bby”, you reply to her before flushing the toilet and cleaning your ass. You’re on your way to the bathroom door as it swings open seemingly on its own. Xinyu barges into the bathroom and locks the door behind her. She puts her hands on your chest and pushes you to the wall, “if you won’t give me the attention I want, I’ll get it myself”. She pulls your shorts and boxers down together as she kneels in front of you, making your cock spring out of its restraints instantly.
“We could’ve done so much more had you given me the attention I wanted”, she’s doing her best to instill regret and guilt in your heart. Her hand is wrapped around your cock tightly and you don’t want to make her mad even more because you don’t want her to break your cock. “P-princess, they’re still here. We can do this later”, you persuade her. “I don’t care, they can go suck cock if they want”, she says before taking you in her mouth. The wetness and warmth of Xinyu’s mouth sends shivers down your spine. You dare hold her hair in your hand as she bobs her head up and down your shaft while gagging every now and then. “P-princess”, you mutter before moaning, “you’re so good, baby”. She instantly removes you from her mouth and squeezes your cock, “stay quiet if you want to make it out of this alive”. “Oh, fuck—I’m-I’m sorry, please don’t break my penis”, you say to the angry-but-horny girl kneeling in front of you.
She accepts your apology for now and gets back to stuffing her face with your cock. You don’t want to upset her considering how vulnerable you are at the moment, so you do nothing but moan. She removes your cock from her mouth once again when she feels it twitch in her mouth, “I’ll let you cum if you ask nicely”. You take a deep breath before ‘asking nicely’, “please let me cum, princess”. “Not good enough, but I’ll take it for now”, she says before letting you in her mouth once again. It doesn’t take long until your cum is accumulated on the tip of your cock. Xinyu knows this, so she goes deeper until she reaches the base of your cock. “I’m cum-ming”, you say with heavy breaths, “princess, please”. Your cock blows a load as soon as you say that, and Xinyu tries her best to not let a drop leak out of her mouth.
You lean back against the wall to catch your breath, feeling drained—quite literally—by Xinyu’s little stunt. You look down at Xinyu who is still on her knees, and you see her gulp down your load into her stomach. “Xinyu, baby”, you say with heavy pants, “thank you, that was really good”. “Of course, oppa. I love you—I’ll drain your soul the next time you ignore me, though”, she rises to her feet and wipes her mouth before pecking your cheek. “Now how do we get out of this place?”, you ask her for ideas. “Just walk out, we’re adults”, she shrugs. You do as she suggested and walk out of the bathroom as casually as possible. Yooyeon sees the two of you walking out together and covers her face with some papers. You see Xinyu give her a wink and gesture to her to stay quiet.
Xinyu then walks to the sofa and poke Nakyoung in the arm, “Naky-yah, are you staying the night or what?”. Nakyoung wakes up slowly from her peaceful nap on your sofa, “hngh, what time is it?”. You look at the clock above the TV, “about 7.30 pm”, you tell the sleepy cat. Nakyoung rises and walks to the fridge like a zombie, “I’m tempted to stay but I imagine you two want some private time”, she says. You can tell that her playfulness hasn’t returned to her entirely, as shown by how she hasn’t bantered or teased anyone yet. She takes a few gulps of fridge-cold water out of her bottle—she visits your apartment a lot so a few months ago she decided to leave a bottle in your fridge so that she wouldn’t drink from one of yours—and turns to you, “did you guys have fun when I was asleep?”. Xinyu answers her right away with confidence, “I did—I don’t know about oppa, though”, she says, hinting at sex. Nakyoung smirks as she walks back to the sofa, “if you had fun, then so did oppa, most likely”.
Nakyoung spends another 30 minutes lying on your sofa while on her phone, while Yooyeon is still busy with studying. “Unnie, I think we should leave soon”, she says to the studying goddess as she gets up. “Hm? Oh, yeah, sure”, Yooyeon says as she starts tidying up her papers and tablet. Nakyoung takes Yooyeon’s hand and walks to the door with her. “Thank you for the hospitality, you two”, Yooyeon bows slightly and waves at you and Xinyu. “You should hang out with us more, Yooyeon-ah. See you at the interview— byeee”, you say as they exit the door and close it behind them.
Seeing that the coast is now clear, Xinyu runs to you and jumps at you, so you catch her with both arms. “I’m tired, oppa. Take me to bed, please”, she says with a cute whiny voice. You peck her temple and carry her to the bed as requested. You set Xinyu on the bed with you on top of her body, and she immediately wraps her long limbs around your body. “Stay, please”, she says, acting cute to convince you to do what she wants, “I can feel you poking me down there, by the way”. It’s not that you’re horny, it’s just that you’re long—almost too long, “I’m sorry, sweetie”. “I’m horny and tired at the same time, which one do I choose, oppa?”, she pinches your cheek playfully. “I suggest sleeping, love. I don’t know if I have another load for you and I would hate to disappoint”, you kiss her forehead apologetically. “Hmph you’re no fun, oppa, but I love you so I’ll listen to you”, Xinyu pouts and lets you go from her strangling limbs.
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It is now Friday. You and the usual suspects will be interviewing the candidates that Yooyeon told you about a few days ago. Nakyoung gave each candidate freedom to choose the place of the interview, and they both chose the multipurpose meeting room in the library building, so now you and Xinyu make your way to the appointed place—one problem, though: there’s quite a commotion in front of the meeting room. “You’re holding an interview, aren’t you? I know you are. Why aren’t you letting me in?”, the guy is shouting at Nakyoung who’s holding the line at the door. You see that Nakyoung is in deep distress, but you want to observe the situation a little bit more before jumping in. That is when you see the guy lay his hands on Nakyoung, which you’re not a fan of—Xinyu’s friends are your friends, and you’re not letting harm come their way. “Listen to her and just leave, man. We’ll pretend this never happened”, you say with a serious voice and grab him by the shoulder.
Surprisingly, the guy thinks that it’s a good idea to get violent and punches you in the face as he turns around, “SHUT THE FUCK UP”, he yells out. Nothing could’ve prepared you for a punch in the face, so you took a few steps back in surprise. Xinyu rushes to your aid in panic while screaming, “oh my God, oppa! Oppa, are you okay? Somebody, get security!”. “Holy shit, you’re so fucked”, Nakyoung says to the guy, who only now figured out who he just punched, “out of all the people present, you chose to punch the president—absolutely incredible. You still expect us to accept you after seeing you act like this? We will make your life miserable for this, by the way; we don’t forget”. The guy approaches you slowly in fear, “I-I’m so sorry, sunbaenim, I don’t know what got into me. Are you okay?”. You sigh in disappointment, not because you just took a punch in the face, but because someone thought it was okay to be violent, especially on campus grounds. “I suggest finding a lawyer”, you say, angriness obvious in your voice. He kneels and bows in front of you to beg for forgiveness, “no, no, please. I’m so sorry. I’ve learned my lesson, sunbaenim, please”. You hear the boots of the security guards approaching, so you say your last piece to the brat, “you have not, but you will soon”.
Once you see that the security guards have control of the situation, you leave the scene and forcefully drag Xinyu and Nakyoung by their wrists into the room. “Op-oppa, you’re hurting me; please let go”, Nakyoung tries to pry your fingers off her wrist. You didn’t realize that you were holding their hands so tightly, so you let them go and apologize. “Thank you for saving me, guys”, Nakyoung sobs as she hugs Xinyu for comfort, “he-he was so adamant, and I got so scared”. “I’m glad he decided to punch me and not one of you”, you sigh, “where is Yooyeon, by the way?”. “I’m here”, Yooyeon says as she closes the door behind her, “what just happened? Why are there security guards?”. “Someone thought it was a good idea to punch Jisung-oppa”, Xinyu explains to the confused girl. Yooyeon shakes her head and sighs, “are you okay, Jisung-ah?”. You rub the spot where the punch landed and reply to her, “I’ll be fine—it hurts, though”.
You take a few minutes to catch your breath and process everything that just happened while Xinyu, Yooyeon, and Nakyoung brief each other about the upcoming interview. You soon hear some knocks on the door and a girl peeks into the room, “excuse me, we’re here for the interview”. “Oh, hello, you guys must be Dahyun and Chaeyeon”, Nakyoung greets them and lets them in. Dahyun gasps in surprise when she sees your face, “oh God, what happened to you, sunbaenim? Why is there a bruise on your face?”. “We can talk about that as we go. Please, have a seat and stop calling me and everyone else in this room ‘sunbaenim’. We’ll interview you guys at the same time, I hope that’s okay”, you gesture to the empty chairs on the round table, and they take a seat in them. “So, there’s something I need to explain before we start”, you start the conversation, “you guys are here because Governor Kim over here recommended that you be considered to be recruited into the university council because her faculty council is full”. They turn to Yooyeon and express their appreciation to her, which makes Yooyeon smile in shyness.
You take the first turn to ask them a bunch of questions, from what makes them interested in joining the council, what they think the council should be for students and the surrounding community, and if they’ll interested in becoming the president in the future. They answer each question with some of the best answers you’ve ever heard in your term as president, and you can tell that everyone in the room is impressed and is starting to like them. Xinyu and Nakyoung then take turns asking them questions of their own while Yooyeon opts to observe and listen in silence.
Once they’re done asking questions and getting answers, it’s the recruits’ turn to ask questions. Dahyun kicks off the session by asking you about your wound, “can I ask what happened to your face, oppa?”. “You can, Dahyun-ah”, you sigh, “someone punched me in the face after screaming at Nakyoung-ie because she didn’t let him join the interview—disappointing behavior, if you ask me”. Xinyu moves to you in her chair and grabs your hand, “are you actually pressing charges, oppa? I would love it if you did—no one gets to punch my boyfriend like that”. “He’s your boyfriend, unnie?”, Chaeyeon asks the vice president. Xinyu brings a palm to her forehead, “oh, right, I forgot that you’re not in our circle yet—yes, he is, and I love him and I hate seeing him get hurt. We’ll go get some ointment after this, oppa, okay?”. “The president and vice president are dating, unnie. Are we in a drama right now?”, Chaeyeon turns to Dahyun, who lets out a giggle.
The six of you spend more time getting to know each other better as individuals, and you can tell again that everyone is really interested in having them join the council and this small circle of yours. Nakyoung explicitly tells them about it; “I know we only met today but I know that everyone here likes the two of you, so I sincerely ask you to consider joining our little friend group once you’re formally accepted as members of the council. Your cute little governor here is also with us, by the way”, she says—the way she’s saying it makes it sound like it’s a circle of nepotism with leading figures of the council and a bunch of new recruits. Dahyun shyly accepts the invitation, “we would love that, unnie. Thank you for being so kind to juniors like us”.
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The interview is now done, and you find yourself surrounded by 5 girls outside the library. “Oppa, I’m hungry. Can we get lunch?”, Xinyu tugs your hand. “We can, sweetie. Wanna invite the others as well?”, you reply to her. Xinyu turns to the others, “guys, we’re gonna go get lunch, wanna join us?”. Nakyoung and Yooyeon obviously nod in agreement, but Dahyun and Chaeyeon are hesitant. “You two can join us as well, no need to be shy. We’re your friends, just a bit older in age”, you say to them. Chaeyeon answers for herself and Dahyun, “we would love that, oppa, if that’s okay with you”. Nakyoung pinches Chaeyeon’s cheeks playfully, “we’re friends, God damn it. Start acting accordingly, will you?”. You lead them to your car that’s parked in the campus’ parking lot—the parking lot is not as packed on Fridays since the professors are usually doing other stuff off campus, and you managed to find one because you arrived early. Chaeyeon makes a comment when she sees your car, “OF COURSE HE’S RICH—oh my God, I’m so sorry, oppa”. You chuckle at her comment, “it’s okay, I’ve heard that a lot before. Come on, let’s get in”.
You find yourself sailing the slow sea of Friday afternoon traffic, thankfully it’s not as bad as usual. “Does anyone have any idea where we should go?”, you ask the crowd in your car. Dahyun raises her hands after mustering up as much confidence as she can, “can we go get burgers, oppa? There’s a good burger shop nearby—if-if everyone else agrees, that is”. Xinyu is the most excited one at the prospect, “we sure can, I looove burgers. Drive faster, oppa!”. You laugh at her words, “just admit that you love everything, sweetie”.
Dahyun wasn’t lying when she said it was near, as you are now parked in front of an alleyway where the burger shop is. “We’ve been students for so long, but we’ve never heard about this shop once”, you remark. Dahyun shyly confesses to the group, “Th-this place is my parents’, oppa. I-I wanted to promote my parents’ business since they only opened recently, I’m sorry”. Xinyu rushes to hug Dahyun from the side, “awww, how cute. You’re such a good daughter, Dahyun-ah”. Dahyun hides her face behind her palms before replying to Xinyu, “you’re so kind, unnie”. “Now you know why people fall for her, Dahyun-ah”, you say, bragging about your lovely girlfriend to your new friend.
Dahyun leads you into the shop and runs towards the cashier to hug the lady attending it. “Everyone, this is my mom, you can call her Mrs. Seo—duh. Mom, this the council’s president, vice president, secretary, and governor—obviously you know Chaeyeon already. We just became friends today”, she introduces everyone to her mom by pointing at you one by one. “Aigoo, you brought your friends, Dahyun-ah? Welcome, kids—oh my God, what happened to your face? Also, you don’t need to pay today since you’re Dahyun’s friends”, Dahyun’s mom says to your group. You don’t want to not pay, considering how much your friends eat and the fact that your friend’s parents own the place; “It’s a bit of a long story, madam. We would hate to not pay; we eat a lot, you see”, you try to convince her mom. “Okay but promise us you’ll come back. Now what can I get for you?”, Mrs. Seo asks you. You turn to Dahyun, who most likely knows what’s best here, “you have any recommendations, Dahyun-ah?”. “I mean, I think everything is good but I’m very biased”, she giggles.
Since this is your first time here, you decide to choose whatever catches your fancy, which happens to be a double cheeseburger with portobella mushroom and beef bacon. Everyone else then takes turns to order before leaving to find a place to sit together. Mrs. Seo tells you to join two tables together since they only have 4 chairs each, so you do as she says. While you wait, you decide to talk with your friends—you know, like friends do.
It takes about 20 minutes for the food to come out, not bad at all considering how big of an order it was. Mrs. Seo calls out to Dahyun to help carry the food to your table, so she stands up and heads to the kitchen to help. You see the visuals of each thing on the trays, and you can’t help but drool at the sight. “Holy sh—excuse my language—that looks so good!”, Nakyoung shows her enthusiasm to the food. You see that Yooyeon, who usually shows little emotions, has an excited face as well, and it brings joy to Mrs. Seo. “You are such sweet kids. I’m glad Dahyun can be friends with you”, she says. “The pleasure is ours, madam. Dahyun is such a sweet girl as well”, Xinyu says.
Dahyun and her mom set the trays on the table, and everyone jumps to get their stuff right away. Nakyoung is the first to take a bite, and she exclaims in excitement immediately, “oh my God, this is incredible—Mrs. Seo, this is amazing!”. “Omo, I’m so glad you like it”, she says before putting a big squeeze bottle on the table, “try this with the fries, will you? We’ve been developing a sauce recipe and would love to hear some feedback—Chaeyeon-ie has tried this before so she knows already”. Xinyu squeezes the sauce on a piece of fry and shoves it in her mouth, “oh my, that is glorious. What sauce is this, Mrs. Seo? Oppa, try this, quick!”. You take the bottle from Xinyu’s hands and do the same thing she did, and you instantly let out a satisfied groan thanks to the taste. “it’s minced garlic, chives, and white pepper mixed with mayonnaise and a little bit of my husband’s hot sauce—you know, you two look so cute together; have you considered dating?”, she explains. “They are indeed dating, madam”, Nakyoung answers for you with a laugh like the spokesperson that she often is. Mrs. Seo gasps, “oh, that’s so cute. Alright, I’m gonna stop bothering you guys—enjoy!”.
No one says anything for the rest of the meal as they savor every glorious bite of their food, letting out excited yelps and satisfied groans at the incredible taste. “Dahyun-ah”, you say after swallowing a bite, “would your parents be interested in getting some investment?”. “Look at him, flexing his wealth in front of his junior”, Nakyoung says. Dahyun’s eyes widen at your unexpected question, “I-I’ll need to ask my parents”, she says. “Can you please ask now? I’m curious what they’d say”, you push further. Dahyun sips her drink before running to the cashier and dragging his mom back to the table. “Mom, mom, president-oppa wants to invest in us!”, Dahyun excitedly says to her mom. Mrs. Seo’s turns her head to you in surprise, “do you actually?”. “I do, madam”, you say, as humble sounding as possible, “I think you can do great things with this business, hence my interest”. “I, I”, you see tears gathering in Mrs. Seo’s eyes, “thank you for the kind words, son. Yes, we would love to get an investment—what are the terms, though?”. “My family’s treasurer will reach out to your family in less than 7 business days, madam. You can discuss the terms with her—I’ll make sure it’s more favorable to you than me”, you say to her. “Please stand up, son”, Mrs. Seo says to you, so you do as she says. She hugs you warmly as she’s shedding (you hope) happy tears, “thank you so much, son; it means a lot to our family. How rich are you that your family has a treasurer, though?”. You answer her question with the answer your parents have taught you since you were a kid, “we are comfortable, madam”. She lets go of the hug and wipes her eyes, “I gotta call my husband; this is crazy! Dahyun-ah, isn’t this crazy?”. Dahyun bows to you, “thank you so much, oppa. We won’t forget your kindness”. You’re surprised to see her bow to you, so you grab her shoulders and make her straighten her back, “oh, c’mon, there’s no need to act like that”.
You excuse yourself and head to the back alley behind the shop to call your family’s treasurer, Mrs. Kwon Yuri. She picks up immediately after one ring, “Good afternoon, Mr. Jung. Can I help you?”. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Kwon”, you greet her, “I’m planning to make an investment in a burger shop owned by my friend’s family. Can you please handle it for me? I’ll send you their number after this”. Mrs. Kwon stays silent for a few seconds, but you hear her keyboard clacking over the phone, “I can, Mr. Jung; I will reach out to them in two days”. You feel a wave of relief in your heart, “sounds great, Mrs. Kwon. Be sure to make it favorable for them, please—5 or 10 percent is fine. Thanks for the help”. You send her their number after hanging up and with it, your investment will soon be confirmed, and they’ll get a small boost to grow their business.
Unbeknownst to you, Xinyu has been hiding around the corner waiting for you to end the call. She runs to you when she hears you hang up the phone and hugs you tightly. “My God, that is so sexy, oppa”, she says. “What is, baby?”, you say, unsure about what she’s referring to. “The fact that you’re willing to use your money to help someone else. I know it’s probably spare change for you but it’s still meaningful”, she looks at you straight in the eyes as her hands are on each side of your head. ”I was just trying to help, it’s not like they don’t deserve it—I mean, you know how good their stuff is”, you tell her. “Oh, I know, but you know what else is good?”, she smiles at you. “No?”, you say, oblivious. “My boyfriend’s lips on mine”, she says before pressing her lips against yours. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like kissing Xinyu but kissing her in broad daylight in a back alley feels scandalous. You let your lips stay pressed against Xinyu’s for what feels like a few seconds before you push her away. “Baby, we can’t afford to get caught”, you bargain. “You’re right”, she sighs, “we’ll continue this later”.
You take her hand and enter the shop again. You see Dahyun and her mom crying while a man, who you assume is Mr. Seo, tries to calm them down. Dahyun then points a finger to you and the man walks up to you and reaches his hand out to shake yours. “You must be Jung Jisung”, the man says, “I’m Dahyun’s dad. Thank you so much for your help, son. It means a lot to us”. You’re surprised by how Dahyun’s family is reacting to your little feat, “I-I just wanted to help, sir. My friends and I really like the products your family is selling here”. Mr. Seo pulls you into a hug and you see that Nakyoung and Chaeyeon are leaning against Yooyeon’s shoulders on each side while sobbing. “What is happening, man?”, you think to yourself. Mr. Seo lets you go after a few seconds and shakes your hand one more time; “I need to go; I have two ladies to attend to”, he says, referring to his wife and daughter who are still weeping.
You sit down at the table again and ask your friends about what happened when you were away for that short a time. “They-they told us how hard it was to start this business, oppa”, Nakyoung holds back a sob before continuing, “they-they had to take a bunch of loans and barely had customers at the start—our tab today is one of the biggest ones they’ve had so far. Dahyun even had to do several part-time jobs to help her family’s economy”. Chaeyeon is making it obvious that she’s the most sensitive person in the friend group, as she cries even more after hearing Nakyoung’s summary of what has just happened. “They were over the moon when you said you were going to invest, and now the emotions have finally caught up to them”, Yooyeon says before wiping her eyes with a napkin. You realize that this is what your parents have been preaching for your whole life: to be able to help someone with what you have—especially money—no matter how big or small it is. You silently praise your parents and pray to whatever celestial being is up there for their health and safety.
You wait until everyone has calmed down before walking to the cashier to pick up the tab. “Ji-Jisung-ah”, Mrs. Seo’s emotions are still high as she keeps sobbing after all this time, “are you 100% sure you’re going to invest in us?”. “I am sure, madam. I’ve called the treasurer; she’ll reach out in two days. It’s the least I can do to help, madam”. Mrs. Seo opens her arms and hugs you, “thank you, son; thank you so much”. You close your eyes and savor the genuine emotions she’s showing you, “the pleasure is mine, madam; believe me”. She lets go and fiddles with the computer in front of her, “since you insisted on paying, everything will be ₩50.000 and I’m giving you a 10% discount—so what is that, then?”. Your eyes widen in surprise when you hear her words, “wait, no, no, no. Please, there’s no need for that”. You argue back and forth with Mrs. Seo until she agrees not to give you a discount. You hand her two ₩50.000 banknotes and tell her to keep the rest, which makes her bawl her eyes out again. You’re starting to feel terrible for making these people cry so much today, so you awkwardly walk back to the table so that you can get your friends to leave with you.
Everyone stands up when they’re finally ready to leave and file out of the door one by one except for Dahyun. Before it’s your turn to leave, Mr. Seo pulls you to the side and hugs you one more time. “Thank you for everything, Jisung-ah”, Mr. Seo says to your ear, “I would offer you my Dahyun but I was told that you have a girlfriend already”. Your eyes widen in shock, “That won’t be necessary ever, Mr. Seo. I don’t even know if Dahyun likes me like that—also she’s not anyone’s property, respectfully”, you whisper in his ear. He lets go of you and shakes your hand softly, so you reciprocate his gesture and do the same. “Oppa”, Dahyun calls out to you, “thank you so much for everything, seriously. I promise I’ll do my best in the council; I’ll do whatever you guys ask me to”. You smile at her, “I know you will, Dahyun-ah. I can tell that you’re a hardworking person as well”. Dahyun looks at the door and makes sure that the coast is clear before hugging you. “I know you have Xinyu-unnie but please let me have this for now”, she then gets on her tippy toes and pecks your cheek, which makes the two of you blush at the same time. “Thank you, Dahyun-ah. I wish you and everyone health and safety. See you soon, okay?”, you make to leave the restaurant and catch up with your friends.
You get back in the car and start driving again; everyone except Xinyu (obviously) asks you to take them back to campus, so you do as they ask and take them back there. They get off at the campus gate and wave at you as you leave, and now you’re left alone with Xinyu. “Let’s go home, oppa”, she says before reaching over and palming your cock, “I’m so fucking horny, oppa—if you hadn’t stopped me back in the alley, I would’ve got on my knees and sucked your cock”. You can feel your cock getting hard and your patience running thin, so you take a deep breath before replying to Xinyu, “patience, princess; we’ll get home before you know it”. You hope that your words were good enough to convince her to be patient, but they apparently weren’t, as she keeps palming your cock the rest of the way home.
-
You make it back to the parking lot of your building again. You stand next to the car and wait for Xinyu to get off. Instead of taking her hand and walk side by side, you lift her by her thighs and carry her to your destination. “You’re not getting away with being such a brat—you wanna palm my cock because you’re horny? Fine, I’ll show you horny”, you whisper aggressively in her ear. “You’re gonna make me pay, daddy?”, she whispers back, her voice laced with lust. You rush to your apartment and enter the bedroom straight away. Your lust-controlled brain doesn’t want to play nice, as it makes you drop Xinyu on the bed not-too-softly. Xinyu bites her bottom lip; “I like it when you’re rough”, she says, trying to rile you up more. You want to talk dirty with her, but you’re given another idea instead; “let’s make a deal: if you can make it through this session without cumming, I’ll buy you whatever you want—including Dahyun’s restaurant. Now pick a fucking safe word”. You take off everything you have on your body in front of her, and she bites her lip again, “Oh please, just who exactly do you think I am? Just come and punish me, daddy; use me, stretch me, choke me, cum in me—do whatever pleases you and I’ll take it like a good girl, because I am one”.
You pull her off the bed and onto her feet; “strip”, you command. “Yes, daddy” is her reply; short, but laden with obedience. She takes her sweet time to take off each thing and tries putting on a show for you, but since you’re now thinking with your cock and not your brain, you’re getting impatient; “I told you to strip, princess, not to take off your clothes”, you say as you palm her neck and squeeze it slightly while glaring right into her eyes—she’s taller than most people but you still tower over her (shoutout to dad for his genes). You see that she’s starting to get intimidated but still has her strong girl façade on, “hngh—patience, daddy, plea-please”. You let her neck go and she takes the rest of her clothes seemingly nervously, as seen by how her hands shake as she’s doing it. Xinyu gets back in bed when nothing is on her body, now ready to start the session. As much as you’re horny and rough, you’re never one to act without consent, so you ask the seemingly scared girl in your bed, “are you okay? Was I too mean? Do you want to keep going?”. “N-no, you’re okay—I’m okay”, she takes a deep breath and welcomes you to bed.
You get on top of her and start sucking and nibbling her neck, marking it with your lips as she moans and sighs at the contact. “You love marking me, right, daddy?”, she eggs you on, “you like showing people who I belong to, don’t you?”. You leave her neck when you see that it has a red spot on the side, knowing that it will turn into a decently sized hickey tomorrow, “Uh-huh; they’ll know if they haven’t already”, you say to her, “if you cover it with makeup, I will make you sleep on the sofa for a month”. She pleas her case, “but what if my professors see it?”. You shrug, “we’re adults—your words, not mine. Now stay still, I have things to do”.
You move to her breasts, putting one in your mouth while fondling the other. Xinyu has always been sensitive there, so you know it’ll be plenty of stimulation for her. “Daddy”, she sighs, “why do you like my breasts so much?”. You lift your mouth off so you can reply to her; “because they fit in my hands so well”, you palm a breast; a perfect handful in your hand, “can you feel how perfect it is in my hand?”. Xinyu nods to your question, “ye-yes, daddy; they’re perfect for you, just like the rest of my body”. “Good answer, princess—you should be able to feel this as well”, you pinch a nipple and tug, making Xinyu scream instantly, “oh, fuck, fuck—the-they’re sensitive, daddy”. You chuckle, “I know they are, but you’re mine to play with”.
You play with her tits a bit more before moving on. You opt to skip her tummy (no matter how firm and soft it looks) and go straight to her pussy. “Open your legs, princess”, you command her, and she instantly spread her long legs enough for you to fit your head between them. “I-I hope you like what you see”, she says with a blush on her cheeks. Honestly, how can you not like the sight despite having seen it a lot—her perfectly pink and glistening pussy is making you drool, literally. You dive into her pussy right away; your tongue is pressed against her entrance, threatening to invade it while your index finger is on her nub. Xinyu starts moaning and squirming around as you start licking her pussy, so you hold down her thighs so that you don’t miss your target. “Remember to hold your cum”, you remind the moaning girl. Her heavy breathing makes it hard for her to verbally answer you, so she just nods to your say.
“Op-oppa”, she calls out with heavy pants, “you-you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that”. You lift your face off her crotch and look at her in disbelief, “is that supposed to be a threat? You dare threat me, you slut? That’s the wrong name too, by the way”. Xinyu panics, “no-no, daddy; I would never—oh, fuck—I would never threaten you, I swear”. You plunge two fingers into her pussy, “that’s what I thought”. “Oh, fuck—daddy, please”, she lets out whiny moans. You know that she’s doing her best to hold off her orgasm, and you praise her for her efforts; even good girls have their limits, and hers is very close. You keep fucking her with your fingers until you feel her pussy squeeze them, indicating that she’s having her orgasm soon. True enough, she screams from the top of her lungs after a few seconds, “I’M-I’M CUMMING, FUCK!”. You pull your fingers out as she squirts her juices out and stroke her thighs to help her calm down. It takes a few minutes of moaning and whining until her mind is cleared and her high is dissipated. “You came”, you say with a fake disappointed voice. Realization of what just happened slaps her in the face, “I’m so sorry, daddy; please don’t punish me, I beg you. I-I’ll give you my mouth, I’ll give you my asshole—anything you want. Just don’t punish me, please”. “There’s no way she’s offering you her ass”, your brain says, “she’s never trained for it, has she? She’ll never be able to take your cock there—don’t take it, son”.
You decide to keep her in the dark and not tell her that you’re not getting in her ass because you’re naughty like that. “On your stomach, princess”, you command her, and you see that she’s nervous because she’s clueless as to what you have in mind. “I’m so dead; we’ve never trained my ass before and he’s getting in there—this is why you don’t run your mouth, Zhou Xinyu”, Xinyu thinks to herself. She gets even more scared when you lift her ass but not the rest of her body. You make her think that you’re going in her ass by asking her to spread her cheeks. Xinyu’s fear peaks when you put your thumb on her asshole and slather spit on it—she even sheds a tear because she’s that scared. “Look at it”, you say, “that must be so tight and snug”. “I guess this is how I die”, she thinks as more tears are released from her eyes, “he’s going in there dry, too—fuck, this will hurt like a bitch”. You remove your thumb and announce to her that you’re going in, so she closes her eyes and braces for the pain. To her surprise, you decide to plunge into her pussy instead, so Xinyu lets out a loud moan immediately; “oh, God, daddy, yes, yes—I’m your good girl, daddy”. A wave of relief washes over Xinyu; “he’s not getting in my ass!”, she thinks to herself.
You lean forward and whisper in Xinyu’s ear, “you thought I was gonna take your ass, didn’t you, princess?”. She moans before answering you, “ye-yes, daddy. I-I was so scared”. You laugh at her; you’d think she would know by now that you’d never do anything without her explicit and clear consent, but here she is, scared shitless at the prospect of losing her anal virginity to you. “I might not be taking your ass today, but I’m taking your pussy”, you say before pulling her gloriously thick jet-black hair. “It’s yours, daddy—I’m yours; take me anytime you want—oh, fuck, that’s so fucking deep”, she replies. You press Xinyu’s head into the pillow, “I’m cumming in your pussy and I want you to keep it in”. You feel her nod against your hand, and you pick up the pace of your thrusts.
You keep pumping her pussy deep and fast, just like how you like it. Xinyu is holding the pillow under her head with all her might, her knuckles turning white thanks to how hard she’s gripping it. You feel your lust peaking, so you give her rougher thrusts as your crotch makes clapping sounds when it hits Xinyu’s cheeks. Xinyu is moaning and screaming your name away, as she feels the rough thrusts you’re giving her; “I’m gonna feel this tomorrow”, she says in her head. You can feel your orgasm approaching, so you get in a squatting position without pulling out and keep thrusting into her pussy with all your strength. Xinyu knows this as well, so she eggs you on, “keep stretching me like that, daddy—oh, fuck, you’re in my belly”.
You start feeling tired from fucking her in such position. Thankfully for you, you’re so close to cumming as well. “Princess”, you say with heavy breathing, “I’m so close”. She turns her head to see you over her shoulder, “yes, daddy; I’m so close as well—oh, fuck—please let me cum with you”. You’re reminded of her words a few days ago when you said you were close, and you decide to use it against her, “I’ll let you cum if you ask nicely”. She takes a deep breath so that she can ‘ask nicely’, “daddy, please, let me cum with you—I’m-I’m begging you, daddy”. Satisfied with her answer, you pet her head; “good job, princess”. To make sure that she indeed cums with you, you reach around her waist and rub her clit as you’re fucking her.
Your orgasm finally hits after some more thrusts. You plug your cock deep into her and start shooting your cum deep into Xinyu’s pussy; at the same time, Xinyu’s legs quiver thanks to her second orgasm—no squirting this time, unfortunately. You stand up on the bed after all your cum is released into her; “if you let it leak out, I’m taking your ass”, you threaten her falsely. You know that Xinyu lacks training, so unless she trains her ass, you’re not getting in there—unless she decides to act like a brat again. Xinyu doesn’t know that it was a fake threat, so she keeps her ass up to prevent your cum from leaking out while she tries her best to catch her breath.
You jump off the bed and leave to get water and towel, “be right back, princess”. When you return, she still has her ass up because at heart, she is very obedient and just wants to please her boyfriend as much as she can. “Daddy”, she calls out with teary eyes, “can-can I put my ass down now? I’m s-starting to get tired”. You feel a rush of guilt in your heart because she actually fell for the false threat; “you can, princess. Just relax, okay?”, you say as you guide her waist down by pressing down on the small of her back until she’s flat on the bed. “I’m gonna wipe your body with this towel, okay, princess?”. You see her nod, so you start wiping her body from her nape down to her legs, making sure not to miss a spot as you go. You roll her over onto her back to clean the other side of her body and that’s when you see the messy makeup on her face—solid proof that tears were running down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, princess”, you stroke her cheeks softly with your thumb, “I was so rough on you, wasn’t I?”. She sniffles before answering you, “you-you were, but it’s okay; nothing I’m not used to”. “Can I clean that makeup for you, or do you want to do it yourself?”, you ask her. She reaches out to grab the towel from your hands and wipe her face with it, “this should be enough”. She then returns the towel to you so you can clean the rest of her body.
“Honey”, you call out to her, “wanna shower or no?”. She sighs in exhaustion, “no, too tired—you can shower if you want”. You jump back in bed and lie next to her; “no, too tired”, you return her words. She gathers all her might and scoots over so that she can cuddle you; “I hope that was satisfactory”, she says. You peck her head, “of course it was. Thank you very much, love”. “I was so scared that you were going to fuck me in the ass, daddy”, she hasn’t dropped the name yet, “you know I’ve never trained my ass so I thought you were gonna take my anal virginity raw and dry—I mean sure, it’s only right that I give you that but I was super scared”. You stroke the back of her head softly, “we can talk about that later, sweetie—just know this: I would never do anything to you without your clear and explicit consent, so until I hear that you’re ready to take me in your ass, I’m not fucking you in the ass. I promise you that”.
She hums in understanding—you can tell that she’s grateful too—but is then reminded about the deal from earlier, “so I guess you’re not buying me whatever I want since I came?”. You let out a chuckle, “what do you want to get, sweetie?”. She blushes when she realizes that she didn’t lose the deal because of how sweet and kind you really are behind all those façades, “oh-oh, um, I-I wa-want burgers and fries from Dahyun’s place again, oppa”. You nod to her, “sure, love. We can go after this if you want”.
-
You and Xinyu get back in the car after regaining energy and showering, as you two are now on your way to Dahyun’s restaurant for the second time today. When you arrive, you see that Dahyun’s attending the cashier this time. She sees you two in front of the door and rushes to open it for you, “oppa, unnie, welcome back!”. “Hey, baby. Nice to see you again”, Xinyu hugs the girl in front of her. “We promised we would return so here we are”, you say to her. “Where are the others, though?”, Dahyun asks. “No idea; we just had sex at home and came here after cuddling and showering”, Xinyu utters oh-so-brazenly. “OH MY GOD! UNNIE!”, Dahyun covers her ears and runs away from the two of you. You palm your face, “I’m so sorry, Dahyun-ah; you didn’t need to hear all that”. Dahyun fans her cheeks with her hands to fight her blush, “oh my, how could you say that so casually—wh-what can I get for you guys this time?”. You pinch Xinyu’s cheek for her little shenanigan before turning to Dahyun and repeat your order from this afternoon; “oh, can we get 2 more fries and that sauce again? So 4 fries in total and the sauce”, you ask her. “Of course you can, oppa. Please wait at the table for your food”.
Dahyun brings a tray of food to you after about 15 minutes. She thinks that she can waltz away after that, so you call out to her, “where on God’s green earth do you think you’re going, Dahyun-ah?”. Surprised to hear you call her that way, she walks back to you your table awkwardly, “I-I’m sorry?”. “Why do you think we ordered 4 burgers?”, you point at the empty seat next to Xinyu, “have a seat with us. We can have a little chit-chat—you can get back to work if there’s another customer coming”. “Uwuwu, my baby”, Xinyu peppers Dahyun’s face with pecks. “I’m sorry, oppa, but is unnie always like this?”, Dahyun asks you. “No, only to people she likes”, you say with a smile, indicating to her that she’s one of those people.
No other customer ends up coming, so you have the entire restaurant to yourselves. “Dahyun-ah, would you be able to cater for the entire council? I would love to introduce your products to our staffs”, you say before shoving another piece of fry coated in sauce, “holy shit, that is glorious—you know what, we’ll pay for this bottle of sauce since we’re probably finishing this”. “Oppa”, she says with a soft voice, “you.. are you serious?”. You’re not sure what she’s talking about, “pardon?”. “Are you serious about asking us to cater for the council? That’d be, like, our biggest sales so far”, she says, tears threatening to burst out of her eyes for the second time today. “Let’s ask Xinyu what she thinks”, you point to the girl sitting next to Dahyun. “I agwee wif offa”, she says with a full mouth before swallowing her food, “ehm, excuse me—yes, I agree with oppa’s idea; we should introduce this to everyone. We’ll need the sauce as well, by the way”.
Dahyun sits in silence before covering her face to hide her tears; “oppa, unnie, why are you guys so kind to us? First it was the investment and now this?”, she says with trembling voice. Xinyu hugs the crying girl, “because we love you and we love your food, baby”. If Xinyu was calling another guy “baby”, you would flip out, but you don’t mind since it’s Dahyun. “I know that we sound like a broken record, but we genuinely love the food here. Can you give me an estimation as to when you think you’ll be able to do it?”, the way you say it makes you sound like your dad right now. Dahyun sniffles and gathers her mind to think of an answer, “um, probably in a few weeks; I need to talk with my parents, though”. “Very cool”, you clap your hands once, “we’ll be having a meeting with everyone in the council at the end of September. We’ll tell them to come with an empty stomach”.
-
You’re now ready to leave the restaurant after finishing your burgers, fries, and a whole bottle of sauce. “We’re gonna need to hit the gym this weekend”, you think to yourself. You’re standing in front of the cashier with Dahyun and Xinyu, and that’s when Xinyu excuses herself and runs to the toilet. Dahyun keeps her eyes on Xinyu until she disappears behind the toilet door and walks up to you slowly. You’re not too sure what she’s trying to do, so you opt to let things run their course for now. She wraps her arms around your nape and pulls you down for a kiss. As she’s kissing you, you can’t help but notice how soft her lips are. Dahyun then pulls away from the kiss after a few seconds; “I swear I’ll find a way to repay you, just wait—also, don’t think that I didn’t see your mark on unnie’s neck; sex with you must be amazing, oppa”, she says before taking a few steps back to avoid Xinyu’s suspicion. “You’re saying a lot of nonsense right now, darling”, you say in a quiet voice—that’s another pet name spilling out of your lips and Dahyun catches it right away. “Darling, hm? I like the sound of that, darling”, she winks at you and walks away. Perfect timing, really, because you see that Xinyu is opening the toilet door and about to walk out.
You close your eyes and put a palm on your forehead; “what is happening right now, man?”. Life is throwing another girl at you, and you’re not sure why because you already have a girlfriend—a lovely one at that. You take a deep breath before holding your girlfriend’s hand and leading her out of the door. You take a glance at Dahyun over your shoulder, and you see her wink at you once again. “I’m so fucking cooked”, you think to yourself.
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itskattkm · 13 hours
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Based on a request: Could you do a fanfic where all of JOs characters meet and R has to explain they're all characters in movies and shows and how they're acted by R's gf, Jenna Ortega?
Characters would preferably be the following: Wednesday, Tara, Vada, Camila, Phoebe, Lorraine, Mabel, Ellie and Cairo (Even tho that movie isn't out yet)
If you don't want to use all the characters thats fine lol. I'm too lazy to write this myself.
JO Characters X Fem Reader
A/N: I’m so sorry that it took me so long. I wasn’t sure what end I wanted to choose. So I decided to not overthink to much and keep it short so the end is pretty shit haha. Hope you can still enjoy anon :)
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It’s been one of those rare summer days where the clouds were turning into a coal grey way and turning the whole light that fell onto the earth in a mix of yellow light and dark highlites. I saw just seconds ago a light struck in the corner of my eyes as I turned my head towards the window in the living room trying to say “there was a lightning it mus-“ and then there was it.
A growl. Something that sounded like a crisp crash high in the distance but still like it was happening right next to you. Thunder.
I chuckled to myself. Before I could end my own sentence the thunder had spoken for itself.
I walked towards the window. Watching rain falling down in an immense amount, feeling glad that I was in my apartment and didn’t had to walk through that wild mess.
“Rain... Rain is like a heavy mood. It is sad but it has a beautiful way of calming you down at the same time. Rain can make you cry but it can also make you calm"
I heard the familiar voice of my girlfriend. But kept watching the rain without turning around and smiled.
"You know... Rain can also be a bit spooky. Rain makes the shadows darker. Rain makes the dark even darker. Rain makes mystery even more mysterious."
I chuckled saying “wow that one turned a bit dark I guess…” I was turning around Expecting to see her soaked in the rain. Seeing already in front of my eyes how her bangs were probably all wet and sticking on her forehead. But when my eyes met hers, i was quite confused and a light laugh escaped me.
“Why do you look like Wednesday Addams?” I asked her. Walking a step towards her. It was almost like she became one with the shadows in the room. Wearing a big black coat. Covering what she was wearing under it. Her also black doc martens being pretty visible.
Her hair was darker then it was before she left to meet Enrique and prepare things for the upcoming met gala. I looked at her with a tilted head.
“I thought that people stopped asking stupid questions but here you are… another example for our current lost generation” she said monotone.
I looked even more confused feeling like there were tons of gears moving in my head and that she could see them “I’m confused…” I barely whispered.
“I often have that affect on people…”
She said and looked with an almost disgusted gaze at me. Scanning me from head to toe making me feel some kinda way uneasy. Even though I really loved the way Jenna played Wednesday Addams… that type of character was defiantly to much to handle. I found enough courage despise the mixed feelings I had and was about to say something when I recognized another figure beside me. My eyes landing on dark brown eyes, Emphasized with dark eyeliner wich Jenna rarely wore.
My mouth opened slight. Looking even more confused by now if this was possible.
My eyes scanning her figure within seconds. Seeing her wearing some short hot pants with a thin top and a congnac brown leather jacket. The fit feeling pretty familiar to me.
She was wearing eye makeup but the rest of her face was all clean. Wich made her freckles more present than usual. A smile with also slight confusion covered her face “wow you look pretty emo…” was what she said. But she didn’t said it to me.
“Some would consider I’m the definition of emo” said the one who looked like Wednesday.
I felt my heart running faster looking between the both of them.
“You see her too?” I asked Jenna beside me. But I wasn’t sure if it was actually Jenna.
“Yeah I do… by the way what’s your name?”
She answered giving me that big smile that showed her dimples and made me feel a bit flustered. That smile always had an effect on me.
But I was way to overwhelmed to actually tell her my name since there were two people that looked like Jenna so I asked
“Who are you?”
“Mabel…” she said and gave me a very knees weakening look, combined with that smile.
“Mabel… Wednesday…” I whispered looking between the both of you.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked more myself than both of them.
And right when the last few words left my mouth there was another person appearing in the living room. But the person seemed to be way to focused on my bookshelves.
All three of us watched the person.
She was wearing a white dress, showing her curves and long legs wich were wearing knee high brown boots. A tiny bag was hanging over her shoulders as her tiny but also gentle looking hands touched the backs of the books. Reading in silence the title names. Her hair was falling over her back in beautiful waves. The little light in the living room falling on it and showing a mixture of brown and red highlites.
“Y/N I don't think you have real books here... you have a Harry Potter book.. that's not a real book” She scrunches up her face “I'm sorry but it's the truth” She picks up a book and checks the title “Ugh... It's called a touch of darkness and it's about Persephone and Hades in a version of a Greek world in our time? *She shrugs it off*”
I felt a bit offended but also didn’t knew what to say.
Wednesday said “if you like Greek mythology you at least could’ve read the real tales. Like the ilias or oddysey” I nodded slightly ashamed and my gaze met Mabel’s she whispered “I only watched Percy Jackson once so don’t look at me for help…”
I took a deep breath and looked back at the woman beside my shelves. She had turned around by now and was lightning up a cigarette. I could see the amount of rings on her other hand and that cheeky but also dangerous smile on her dark bordo lips.
“Cairo Sweet?” I asked speechless.
“Wow well that’s a …unique name” said Mabel with a chuckled.
“I would say being called after a weekday is more unusual then being called as a well know city with history…” said Cairo and gave Wednesday a look.
My eyes widened feeling like Cairo was about to die.
“ I’m named after a nursery rhyme containing the line “Wednesday's child is full of woe.” The poem, which assigns personalities to children based on the day they were born, dates back to at least 1838. Cairo-Sweet. What kinda name is that, anyway? Sounds like the kind they'd use in a very bad written fanfiction” Wednesday glares at Cairo for daring to question the legitimacy of her name and gives her a dead stare.
I looked at both of them excited now and chuckled saying “as a writer you should have know that Cairo… you better not mess with Wednesday. She’s a writer and she could kill you if she wants”
Mabel beside me just whispered quite “okay this is getting very interesting here”
Wednesday and Cairo were throwing glares at each other when another person moved to my side and said “what kind of fever dream is that?”
I laughed and shaked my head looking at my right side to see another version of my girlfriend, wearing basketball shorts and an oversized shirt. I felt like nothing could surprise me anymore at this point so I smiled friendly and held my hand out saying “your Vada right? Nice to meet you I’m Y/N”
Vada smiled and shook my hand. I was explaining to her what was currently happening and introduced the others to her. Vadas hand rested on my shoulder now as she said “it’s like the most weirdest names I’ve ever seen…” an awkward smile appearing on her lips.
“You’re not surprised about the fact that you all look exact the same? Just different?”
Suddenly there was a Laugh “Yeah, there's a glitch in the system or something. It's just kind of...” said the 5.1 Latina beside me and shrugged. I looked speechless at Tara fucking Carpenter. Not sure if I was in a fan girl mode or going right into the simp mode.
“Tara Carpenter… holy shit” I whispered and looked at her stunned. Not sure how to process this all. She gave me a friendly smile and my head felt like exploding.
“She good?” Asked another version of Jenna’s Characters. Sitting on the armchair with her sunglasses and smoothie as she held a tiny book in her hands. Ellie from you I assumed.
My eyes kept jumping between all those people in my living room. Noticing even more of them.
“10 dollars she’s gonna pass out” said Wednesday cold as Cairo agreed and jumped in the bet. In my living room we’re around six characters that my girlfriend had played and it was way to hard to understand what the hell was going on.
No matter in what direction I looked. They were everywhere. Talking, arguing, connecting.
I took a deep breath and sat down on my couch. “What the hell is going on?” I asked louder and everyone became silent.
They looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
“I have to admit this is weird… for real why do we all look like the same person?” Asked now Vada pointing out her hands at everyone.
Everyone looked around, till all gazes fell on me. Tara walked towards me saying “you seem to know every one of us… so you may enlighten us?” I nodded in an almost trance like mode and got up. Standing in the center while all of them were standing around me like in a circle.
“Okay… maybe this is some weird multiverse thing? A Paradoxon? Or I’m dreaming… dead… I don’t know but!” I said looked at all of you.
I shrugged my shoulders
“Well what can I say you all are movie characters…”
“ Y/N are you feeling alright? Or are the fumes from the glue factory getting to you?”Wednesday gives me a cold stare “Or do you need to sit down? Do you need a hit with the shovel so the bad thoughts go away?”
I looked at her serious saying
“What?! No! Listen…” I said and reached for my phone. I typed in Wednesday in Netflix and showed it to her and the others.
Cairo Looks at me with confusion “What a nerd, knowing all the facts about movie characters and who plays them. Like, who cares? I’ve got better things to do all day long than waste my time on silly little facts of the past, and I don’t even want to waste my time being in the same room as a loser like you!” She glares at me, showing clear signs of aggression.
“Okay you are defiantly meaner as you seem in your movie…” I said slight offended and looked over at Tara who was my fav character. Seeking for some comfort
She Shrugs “Oh don’t let her bother you, she’s... Anyways, did you guys want to talk about anything specific or are we going to all go to our separate corners and just stare at each other? I mean, that sounds kind of odd if I say it outloud...”
I laughed nervous “I would like to know why you guys even are here in the first place… this is against all rules. How is this even possible?”
“You’ll find a lot of things hard to explain away with logic, you know? Especially a certain someone who likes to hang out with a bunch of fictional characters” said Wednesday monotone and gave me another cold, intimidating stare “beside that you better stop trying to convince us that we are only movie characters. I’ll be good for you, if you drop the topic”
“Why? After all you all just appeared out of nowhere in my Apartment!..” I said a bit angry. Starting to feel like I was the bad one here suddenly.
Mabel looked around while playing with her moving her hands in the back of her pockets “So, what should we talk about then?” She asks awkwardly.
Vada was sitting in the corner and stares at the floor then says “I feel like the most... average one here....”
Tara Looks at Vada awkwardly “Don't say that... you're just as special as all of us. You're not average. Don't ever think that!”
“Yeah she’s right. You are special and we love you… what you’ve been through was awful” I said reassuring and hugged her. Since I knew what Vada had been through cause I watched the movie obviously, I had a soft spot for her.
“Uh... Thanks y/n......” She awkwardly hugged me back and blushed a little bit, looking down and covering her face. “How did you know?.....” She looked up at me a bit more, curious than before.
“Because you’re a movie character and I saw your story… that’s what I’m trying to explain to you guys” I sighed and looked at Tara.
“Tara you have a sister called Sam. You two had been survivors of a ghostface attack two times. You have several stab wounds in your abdomen and shoulder and on your hand as well. Sam ist the daughter of the origin Ghostface killer, Billy Loomies “ I explained “Your form the movie called Scream, your character was introduced in the fifth and sixth movie… my fav ones” I added with a shy smile.
Tara looked around impressed “How do you even know all these facts?” She whispered and realized that I knew all the names without even asking any one of you “It’s like, magic or something?” She asked.
I looked at Cairo and said “And your form one of the current movies my girlfriend made. It’s called millers girl. And yeah. I know what you did. Accusing your teacher for something he did not really do but I’m on your side tho. But it’s not cool to kiss and blackmail your best friend Winnie. Your dangerous Cairo. But I still feel mesmerized by you… somehow” I explained and shrugged.
Cairo rolled her Eyes “Wow, just wow. Who cares? I didn't ask for your input so keep it to yourself please and thank you” She turns her cigarette off and crosses her arms, giving me a pissed look.
“You are really mean... You seemed so nice at the beginning of your movie” i said almost disappointed. “Yeah well I turned out to be different and that's too bad for you” She continues to glare at me with aggressive eyes.
I sighed again and looked at Mabel.
“Mabel. You’re from the movie finestkind. You’re dating some fisher guy. It’s about crime and drugs. Your character is only a side character but you’re cool. Pretty bold and flirty. You had some spicy scenes respect for that…”
“Wow you really do know a lot-“ She was cut off by Wednesday, who started making an unimpressed sound.
I turned to her “And then the one and only Wednesday Addams. You are the currently new portrayed version of that character. You have your own tv show. You attend a dark Academy and solve crimes and murderes… second season will come out soon and by the way… people ship you pretty hard with Enid”
Wednesday looked me dead in the eyes “I do not appreciate your tone of delivery at all. I’m going to have to ask you to watch it a little, or else… that’s the nicest I can make” She gives me a scary look of disapproval and anger.
“Hey I didn’t wanted to be harsh or something… I’m just trying to telling you guys about the movies you all are from. I don’t know how you made it to my universe but you are all not real in this one…”
“Its your fault we're all here in the first place, so it’s best if you don’t go around with a mouth that likes to spill every detail about us that you possibly can, hmm?” Wednesday gave me a threatening look, daring me to break eye contact first.
I felt a bit hurt and said quite
“Sorry… but I really don’t how all of you came here” I looked around “You all just appeared suddenly” I said softly.
“it’s time for you to make us all disappear” Wednesday looked at me with cold, empty, soulless eyes.
“I don’t know how” exhausted I looked in the eyes of all of them.
“Look guys, let’s not make things too hard on her. She didn't even do anything, all of us just suddenly appeared and its not her fault! “ said Tara and stands up for me. I felt so relived when Tara stand up for me, making me fall for her even harder. Okay focus y/n Jenna is your girlfriend. But yeah… I also love all characters she plays… nevermind.
“I must say, you are very pretty y/n...” said randomly Mabel with a smile.
“Th-thank you” I said blushing hard and looked down.
Vadas eyes fell on me “Yeah, Tara’s right though. She didn’t have anything to do with why we’re here, did she?” Glances at Wednesday and Cairo, looking suspicious.
Cairo Shrugs “I’ve been trying to find out but so far I haven’t got a clue...” Her eyes narrow as she looks at her surroundings “We need to figure this out as soon as possible...”
„Well as soon as possible isn’t quick enough for me, I’m not going to sit around here forever just to wait this all out“ Wednesday added.
„You guys can do what ever you want.
I don’t know how all of you became real. Just know that in this universe none of you is supposed to be real“ I said and sat down on the couch exhausted
Wednesday Shrugs „Well we didn't do it on purpose. It's just something crazy I guess...
What if we never make our way back...“ She looks at everyone with a cold, intimidating stare. It’s clear she’s trying to hold her anger in check for the moment.
„Come on, don't even talk like that Wednesday... we'll find our way back, one way or another...“ Tara said.
„Yeah right? We're not stuck here with her forever!“ Cairo shudders at the thought.
„Ouch?“ I said not sure if I should feel offended.
„You should feel offended. We are going to find a way out of here and when we do, I am making sure I stay the hell away from you“ She glares at me again.
I gave Cairo a thumbs up and looked at Tara speechless saying
„I can’t believe I actually had a crush when I watched her movie back then“
Vada shrugged „Well I'm glad you changed your mind“
„Why? What kind of crush did you have on me?“ asked Cairo, not letting her anger die down yet.
„None“ I said trying to end the conversation. „Come on, you can tell me. Please?“ She leans forward with puppy eyes, but they look a little bit sinister.
„Just for the record since my girlfriend plays all your characters I do have a thing for all of you for sure“
„What do you mean your girlfriend plays all of us?“ Wednesday gives me a suspicious look, leaning in closer and giving a scary look again. „My girlfriend. The actress. Who portrays all your characters in this universe“
Mabel stares at me for a while. Her eyes narrow even more than before* What's her name?”
“I don’t buy it” Wednesday scoffed
“What's that supposed to mean, Wednesday?” I asked
“That was an act, you’re not just now realizing that y/n’s girlfriend is the one who plays all of us. I think she’s trying to hide something”
“I’m telling the truth you can google it” I said louder
Wednesday Takes me by the collar and glares at me with a cold, intimidating look “Okay then, Y/N. I want the truth and I want to know now. What’s your play here?”
Some part of me felt scared and turned on. It took me some time to answer. “I swear nothing. I was just enjoying my day off and suddenly all of you were here”
“And nothing at all happened before that?” Wednesdays voice was getting more and more sinister as each second passed.
“A storm came up. Thunder… lightning” I explained. “Hm... a storm...” She let go of my collar and turned her back on me. She began pacing around the room silently.
“Maybe it has to do with the storm then? Some Paradoxon?” I said
Wednesday looked st me “Is that really all you know? You have no other secrets you’re holding back?”
“Nothing. I’m the most boring person right here” I said quite
“Boring?” She looked back at me and smirked, and turned back around again “If you think your life isn’t interesting, then you’d better make your peace with this life being all you’ll ever be. You have no purpose here. You have nothing to contribute to this world” She stopped her pacing and turned back around again “This is it for you. This is all your life is worth” She let me take that in for a while before speaking again “So do not call yourself boring ever again. You hear me?”
I nodded feeling touched.
“Good” She sat down next to me, and put her hand on my shoulder. After a while of silence, she finally broke the tension “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn’t have done that” She looked down at her feet, ashamed.
“Thank you… i really appreciate your apology” I whispered feeling better now.
“Okay since we all don’t know why you’re here and I’m tired of explaining and arguing… Wanne watch a movie together?”
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ladykailitha · 13 hours
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Paper Hearts Part 4
I finished it!! It will have 8 chapters. I'm excited for you guys to see where this goes! I'm still working on Sweet Home Indiana and will be focusing on that until ITS done. Then we'll be back our regularly schedule WIPs.
We have Eddie's big plan and Steve gets his flirt on.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
****
Steve slipped into the kitchen and there in his mother’s neat handwriting was a note telling him that there were leftovers in the fridge and that they would be home again next Friday.
He sighed and opened the fridge. He immediately closed it when he saw what the leftovers were.
Boiled cabbage with chopped bacon and carrots. It wasn’t bad if it was made correctly, but his mother boiled any flavor and nutrients out of the poor vegetables and then tossed in cooked bacon to hide its sins.
He opened the cupboard and pulled out a small can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and made that. He was craving the sodium. Eddie’s beef was good to get his body to stop shaking, but he had sweat so much he needed to replenish the salt he’d lost.
Once Steve had eaten and drank another glass of water he went to go get a shower and get ready for bed. It was no use trying to get back to his homework now. He had managed to blow up his whole evening by getting lost.
He had no idea how he got to Forest Hills or even why his feet carried him there in the first place. He could feel the weariness seeping into his bones from running for so long.
He undressed and got under the scorching water, letting the heat carry away his pains. His mind ran through all the things that Munson had done for him. The guy had no reason to be nice to him, but he had been more than gracious.
Then it hit him. Munson had called him Stevie, and without thinking Steve had called him Eds.
Eds.
Where the fuck did that come from? They weren’t friends, they could barely be considered acquaintances. Was his brain reaching out to the guy subconsciously? Is that why he ended up at the trailer park? Everyone knew that’s where Munson lived. Who knew how many times the guy had been called trailer trash, but the older teen seemed to rise above the insult.
Steve shook his head, spraying water everywhere. Just because Munson picked up lost sheep, didn’t mean he’d be willing to taken in an injured wolf. Because that’s what he was, reformed or not, Steve would never be a sheep. He would always be a wolf. A predator.
But at least as a wolf he could protect those kids with everything he had. And he would, even if it killed him.
The water had long since turned cold by the time Steve stepped out of the shower. He completed his after shower routine mostly on autopilot as he kept going over his interactions with both Munson men. He didn’t really have good interactions with dads or in this case uncles. But Munson’s uncle Wayne treated him with kindness and he could see where the older boy got it from.
He dressed into his pajamas and slid under the covers. He rolled over on his back and tucked one arm under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
Steve thought back to the apology. One Munson really didn’t have to give but did anyway. He thought about the other jocks that bragged about hurting his hand. He held it up and looked at the fading bruise. It wasn’t as though he was even basketball anymore. Hurting his hand wouldn’t do anything but make it hard to do his homework and all he had to do is show his teachers his hurt hand and he’d get extensions for that. Like he had for his concussion last November.
But then again Tommy H. never had reasons for the people he hurt either. He just liked the power he got seeing the person helpless.
He placed his hand over his heart and let himself drift off the sleep, brown eyes and dark curls haunting his dreams.
****
Eddie had originally bought the red heart for himself like he had told the two juniors. But staring at it now, he had a better plan for it. Because that last wall, that last bastion of defense crumbled to ashes when he realized that despite the fancy car, the big house, and the expensive clothes, Steve Harrington was more like Eddie than he thought possible.
Wayne’s approval of the boy cemented that for him. Because if he could take one look at Steve and decide he was worth saving, then Eddie raring to go full steam ahead for a rescue mission.
Eddie could tell that the hearts were made from simple construction paper, like the kind found just about anywhere. He knew it would be technically cheating to just simply make more instead of buying them, but he had no intention of contributing to a dance he was never going to go to because one, it wasn’t his year; two, the whole gay thing; and three, the one person he would want to go with if the gay thing wouldn’t get him hate crimed, wouldn’t give him the time of day.
Well, all right, that might have changed with the whole rescuing him from wandering alone in the dark thing.
He forgave Eddie about being a dumbass, so maybe there was hope for, at the very least, a vast decrease in hostility. And he was willing to take what he could get.
He decided to wait until tomorrow after school to get the construction paper and hope that the high school hadn’t bought up the town’s supply.
On his way out the next morning, Wayne stopped him.
“You don’t have to tell me, son,” he said gently, “but you got feelings for that boy?”
Eddie froze and turned slowly to face his uncle. “What gave you that idea?”
Wayne chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Boy, when you’d go on rants about the Harrington boy, you’d describe his floppy hair, his hazel eyes and how unfairly good looking the kid was. I didn’t say anything because it did sound like he’d been a bit of an ass. Only after last night I got to thinking and was wondering is all.”
Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. He let out a long shuddering breath, his bottom lip quivering.
“I–I don’t...” he closed his eyes again. This wasn’t Al. He wasn’t going to get beat for admitting it, but still it was so hard to say. So he just nodded.
Wayne came up and wrapped his arms around his nephew. “It’s a hell of a lot tougher batting for the other team, but I trust your judgment. Just promise me that if he shows signs of liking you back, you take the chance to tell him how you feel because...”
“You miss one hundred percent of the chances you don’t take,” they said together.
Eddie dropped his bag to the floor and hugged him back. “I know, old man. But I promise if there is a chance, I’ll be brave enough to take it.”
“Get going,” Wayne said, voicing cracking with emotion.
He pulled back and nodded. He reshouldered his backpack and got in his van.
He had a lot to think about and that really wasn’t conducive to paying attention in class or to his friends as they talked about their upcoming D&D session.
Gareth kicked his shin causing him to yelp.
“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie hissed.
“What the fuck is up with you?” Gareth hissed back. “You’ve been going on and on about the mind flayer for weeks and now that it’s literally this weekend, and you’re off in some other realm.”
Eddie blinked at him for a moment before his brain came back on. He shook his head to clear it.
“Yeah, sorry, man,” he said around a pretzel. “Weird night last night.”
“What happened?” Jeff asked, tilting his head to the side.
So Eddie told them. “He was like a ghost, guys. If Wayne hadn’t seen him too, I would have thought I was hitting Mary Jane a little too hard, you know?”
“I didn’t realize he was getting bullied,” Brian said, frowning. “I would have thought with Hargrove giving the dude a wide berth, that everyone else would have too.”
“Untouchable,” Jeff agreed. “The fact that jocks are now splintering into factions tells you what kind of control Steve actually had on them.”
Eddie rubbed his chin. “I don’t know how true this is, but if Harrington wasn’t lying, he’s a real sweetheart, too.”
Then he leaned forward and explained about the pink heart scheme.
“So,” Gareth said, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them, “you’re telling us is that we have been seriously remiss in our duties in collecting lost sheep.”
The older teen sighed and shook his head. “I’d like to collect him, but I’m afraid the wolves might decide to rip him apart before we got him to safety if we tried.”
Jeff winced. He knew what Eddie was talking about. Steve Harrington wasn’t the usual lost sheep. He might be bullied now, but as King, Harrington had run far too long with the wolves to think that they could protect him one hundred percent of the time.
“So what are we going to do?” Brian asked. “Because if we let this slide, we’re throwing our lot in with the bullies and that’s something I refuse to do.”
A grin spread out over Eddie’s face, closed lips and dimples entrenched into his cheeks. “We’re going to make the school think that he’s just as popular as he ever was.”
The other three boys looked at each other in confusion.
“So what have you got?” Gareth asked, his own grin starting to take over his face.
****
Eddie made sure to get to class early so he could see where Steve was going to sit. He tried to tell himself it was about the dude’s hand, but it wasn’t working. He wanted to see if the former Hawkins royalty would chose to sit with his old friends or by him again.
He didn’t have long to wait. Steve walked in not long after he did, just as the bell rang. He didn’t even look at his old desk near the front and beelined it for the chair he had sat in on Friday.
The teacher picked up on the change immediately and wrinkled her nose. “I am to suppose that you are taking up permanent residence in the back with Mr. Munson, Mr. Harrington?”
Steve half shrugged as he began to pull out his things for class. “I got more work done, Mrs. Dixon and I really want to graduate on time.”
Mrs. Dixon nodded. “Agreed and as long as you continue the level of attention from last week, you are permitted to stay there.”
About half way through class while Mrs. Dixon was grading papers, Tommy H. turned around and kicked Steve’s chair. “Suck up,” he hissed.
Steve puckered his lips and wagged his eyebrows. “Why? Do you want to be next?”
Tommy turned back around, his face bright red.
Eddie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side as he considered everything about that interaction.
A little blossom of hope sprouted in his chest and he fought to keep it down. Steve had insinuated that other people were gay for years, but to Eddie’s highly trained gay ears, that sounded like Steve was offering to suck Tommy H.’s dick and that Tommy didn’t exactly turn him down.
Curiouser and curiouser, he thought tapping his lips thoughtfully. More research would have to be done.
He pulled out a different notebook, the one he used for campaign notes and song lyrics.
He wrote girls over one column and boys over the other and began tallying what he knew about the former King of Hawkins.
A shit ton went into the Steve liking girls column, but there was surprisingly more in the liking boys column then he would have thought possible. He looked up to catch Steve smirking at him.
Eddie quickly covered his notebook and stuck his tongue out at Steve.
The other boy shook his head and went back to doing the assignment. Eddie was more careful about what he left out in the open because he didn’t want Steve teased for it nor did he want him to see that Eddie was trying to figure him out.
The bell rang and the notebook was suddenly whisked off his desk.
“Hey!” Eddie cried, looking up to see Steve dancing away with the notebook teasingly. “Stevie!” He grabbed his bag and chased after the other boy. But the other boy was a jock and Eddie was wheezing for breath by the time he caught up with him at his locker.
“Give that back,” he huffed.
Steve gave him a bright smile and handed it back. “I just made a minor addition.”
Eddie frowned as he flipped through the pages but didn’t see anything. Steve took it back and turned to the correct page and leaned close so that only Eddie could hear.
“I trust you’ll keep my secret,” he whispered and then dropped to one knee to start getting into his locker.
Eddie gulped at the sight and turned to the paper to avoid saying something stupid. There in bold capital letters under his girls/guys columns was the word BOTH.
He looked up at Steve who had stood up. Steve winked at him and then walked away, leaving a shocked Eddie behind.
****
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heavenlymorals · 19 hours
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Details I've noticed about Arthur Morgan Part 2 cuz you guys seem to be devouring the first one 👍🏼 :
- Him and Dutch share the same sense of humor- dry, sarcastic, and usually at another's expense.
- However, both Arthur and Dutch get really annoyed whenever they direct that same humor to eachother.
-When Dutch and Arthur quick draw, they both turn their bodies to make them a smaller target. They are the only ones in the gang that do this in idle animation.
- Arthur's journal is filled with many half done, not fully rendered drawings. Some pages have one small drawing on them and are then skipped over. Other drawings are just shapes and strokes that represent the schema of an animal or person. It's very realistic to an actual sketchbook and not the Pinterest dream sketchbook.
- Arthur, prior to Hosea's death and Micah overturning his position as Dutch's right hand man, is always there whenever a big decision is being there and is asked for feedback too. Arthur isn't just a member of the VDL gang, he's a leader of it too and people seem to forget that.
- Arthur is very emotionally tough and when I mean very, I mean VERY. He doesn't cry when Sean dies, someone he considered like a little brother. He doesn't cry when Lenny dies, someone he probably saw as a son. He doesn't cry when Hosea dies, someone he saw as a father figure. Of course, they were all in high stress situations that could've stopped an emotional reaction, but even later when he can process things, he doesn't cry.
- There is one time in the game where we see Arthur tear up from emotional pain and that is when he speaks to the nun about his life and what he could've had. Still though, he doesn't cry. It says a lot about him.
- In the final journal entry, though, we see a splotch next to the entry on the empty left page that looks like a tear drop. Take that as you will.
- Arthur's hand writing becomes much more spaced out, messy, and words will be scribbled out more often the sicker he gets. Shakey hands.
- He's very witty and quick with insults, like fascinatingly quick.
- He is pretty intelligent but does allow others to dumb him down like Hosea- as the gang's strongman, this could be so the people they work with would put more emphasis on Arthur's strength so he can be more intimidating.
- The picture that Jack gives Arthur has the male figure wearing a black gambler hat like Arthur and John didn't wear a hat in chapter two. Jack probably saw Arthur as his father figure during that point, not John.
- Does want Jack to learn responsibility ("About time you started to earn your keep" "You got to stick at things, Jack") , but he's very kind, patient, and reasonable considering how young the kid was.
- He doesn't let women carry their luggage if he can do it for them (Mary, the nun)
- He's casually mean or teasing to the younger men and generally polite to the women but he will go off on them in the same way if they anger him enough.
- I wish he was a real person
- I'd like to drink a beer with him
- For I love him ❤️
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mazzyfawn · 8 hours
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im a multishipper. i ship buddie and bucktommy. but if im being honest one side is being incredibly more hateful and toxic than the other side. (aka the one thats been around longer) maybe i’ve taken off my rose-colored shipping glasses, but seeing ppl make hate posts abt tommy/lou gives me the ick. it makes me actually realize why oliver left twt. bitterness will get you nowhere. if buddie is meant to happen then it’ll happen. you cannot force it to happen. everything i’ve seen and read tells me buddie was more of a consideration pre-s5 than it is currently. and that fucking sucks but just because things aren’t going your way doesn’t mean you need to get on the internet and be a bully. it’s truly mind-boggling to see people so intense in their hate for a character that has righted his wrongs, who is now friends with the people he wronged, is well-liked among said characters and is now being a positive influence on buck’s newfound sexuality. their dynamic is also nothing new, pessimist/optimist ship dynamics have been around forever and it’s only a problem because it’s not eddie.
i would be happy for buddie to go canon as much as the next guy. getting buck canonically bisexual is mind-blowing enough in itself, i’m glad we’re witnessing it at all. if ryan doesn’t want to do buddie because he feels its important they stay friends then so be it. platonic friendships between a queer man and straight man are important, especially one that runs so deep like buck and eddie’s. sure, their friendship could be read as romantic throughout the show, but partly because oliver and ryan truly share a great chemistry on screen which helps lean into it but also because these shows are not written with an endgame in mind. 9-1-1 is very much a go with the flow show, and if bucktommy is where the show is flowing then that’s what is meant to be. invisible string theory isn’t because ppl think it was always planned from the beginning, it’s because it’s amazing how well buck and tommy becoming a couple comes together so perfectly out of pure coincidence.
we know buck was supposed to be made queer long ago. we also know maddie originally was brought in for eddie but was put with chimney instead. if tim minear hadn’t left after s4 i truly think buddie could have been already established by now, but unfortunately that isn’t how things work. perhaps the idea of tommy and eddie was pitched but ultimately ryan didn’t agree it would work for these character nor the story being told at the time. buck was already supposed to be queer, so turning it to tommy and buck instead makes total sense.
no one is saying you aren’t allowed to continue to ship buddie. most ships in the world are ships that have never gone canon. buddie is valid even if it’s non-canon. god knows i will continue to read and write for them and enjoy them whilst also enjoying buck and tommy together. the behavior i’ve been seeing though is just weird, especially from larger creators who i understand are very passionate for buddie, but it’s weird when you flip it into tommy/lou hate instead of just talking about buddie itself.
perhaps the theories will be true. we don’t know! maybe buck and tommy won’t last and buddie will be endgame. i’m happy either way because buck’s sexuality is so important for him and at the current state of the show eddie is absolutely not ready for anything romantic because he’s still grieving shannon to a point where he is not ready to move on romantically just yet and we’re literally shown this. even if buddie is happening, it is not happening by the season finale nor is it probably happening by the beginning of s8 considering the current storylines and where they’ll be at by the end of this season. lou probably isn’t going anywhere and from the looks of it, we’ll probably be bumped up into a semi-regular character in s8 like karen. he’s easy to write into the plot, he’s got connections to people and emergencies outside of buck that would integrate him well into the plot. their romance is supposed to be “romcom” esque, they’re taking things slow but they’re obviously happy together at the moment.
im just really tired of the nasty attitudes ive been seeing. sure theres are som toxic people on both sides, but to me its obvious which side is being the bigger bully. reality checks needs to be put in place for some people, go outside and realize you are getting way too worked up over a tv show where plotlines are out of your control. if the show is ruined for you over one relationship then stop watching it.
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Warnings: branding (of reader), as well as typical yandere themes like abduction, mentioned murder, mentioned violence, and threats.
There are also slight spoilers for the main quest (Idk how the quests are organized yet HAKDHD I didn't pay attention. But I'm at the point where I have to get to union lvl 21 to continue the main quest, so no spoilers for those quests).
ALSO HI LADIES here's your yearly fanfic. The drabbles are in chronological order. Its nearly 2.9k words total. Goodbye now.
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Scar is a busy man who, by the nature of his work, can't settle down in any one place for too long.
It's what is keeping you sane, honestly. You only have a certain dramatic, scarred, card-wielding bastard on your couch (or, as is becoming more frequent, next to you when you wake up) for a few days every once in a while. His visits are irregular and unpredictable, just like he is. 
That doesn't make it much better, though. He seems to take pride in being a pest. Scar loves attention, and unfortunately, he's not above being annoying to get it. From monologues about the great Lament to asking you about tragedies that seem random, until he openly admits to being the culprit so he can tell the story, there's little he won't do to keep your eyes on him. None of it is anything that would be helpful to the authorities, of course, but there's not much to avoid talking about there. The Fractsidus has always made their ideals quite clear, after all.
One of the first things you do when you find him, relaxing in your living room like he owns it, is threaten to tell the higher-ups about him.
"Alright, then. Go right ahead!" With a seemingly carefree smile, he crosses his legs on your couch, feet on the table and all, and gestures towards the front door.
You narrow your eyes at him and back away, not tearing them away for a second. He snorts and gives you a small, sarcastic little wave and an ingenuine closed-eye smile.
Your back hits the door behind you, so you're forced to turn around to undo the deadbolt. Right as you do, though, a strange, bright red blanket of cards spreads up from beneath your feet, encasing you in a dome. You blink, and you're under a red sky on a desolate, floatibg island. Whirling all around you is a maelstrom of decimated buildings and pillars.
You whirl on your feet, and your eyes land on him, standing only a few feet away from you with one hand on his hip. A muted sense of anxiety thrums uneasily in the back of your mind. Your eyes meet his, one red and the other a dull gray, and you think you finally understand how a deer in headlights feels.
"Are you going to kill me?" Your voice is eerily steady and calm, belying the anxiety and adrenaline rushing through your veins. It sounds alien to your ears.
He outright laughs in your face and leans in close. "What reason would I have to lie?" he asked. "If I did want to kill you, I'd just tell you. There's nothing you could do to stop me." He places a hand on your head and ruffles your hair, undeterred by your instinctual flinch.
"Remember this. With the new Lament growing ever closer, nobody has the resources or time to spare to keep a simple civilian, like you, safe from someone like me." Scar's tone lowers towards the end with a dark promise, and his smile sharpens into a smirk.
He turns on one heel and walks away. With a snap of his fingers, the chaotic scenery melts away to reveal your simple living room once again. "Consider that a warning. Even if you did tell anyone, do you think they could do anything that would help you?" He looks over his shoulder at you, his dim, empty eyes flashing dangerously.
"Think about the price they would have to pay for your own desperation."
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Night has long since fallen, but you're still out and about. It's not that you have anything left to do, it's just... when you go home, you're going to have to see Scar again. If you have to listen to another of his monologues, you might actually try to kill him. It's not because you're a little scared of him. Of course not.
(Your eyes still dart around nervously, jumping at any flash of red you see.)
You check your phone for the time, only to find it's just past midnight. Everything is closed, and you're really not sure what to do now. Maybe you should just suck it up and go home. The thought has you slumping your shoulders with a defeated sigh.
A hand clamps down on your mouth, and another strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. In a panic, you kick and flail and try your best to scream, but it's all futile. They drag you into the alleyway behind you anyway.
"Relax! It's just me," Scar purred, the hints of a laugh tinging his voice. His breath fans against your ear. "I've just noticed... You've been spending so much time out and about, it's like you’ve forgotten about me. Consider my feelings hurt."
Scar pulls the both of you into one of his all-too-familiar crimson portals. You try to pipe up with some snide comments or annoyed curses, but his hand only presses more firmly against your mouth.
"Ah-ah-ah." He moves his hand into your sight from your waist just to wag a claw-tipped finger at you before he places it back, securing you against him again.
It's only a few seconds before a wall in your bedroom comes into view and the red light of the portal behind you disappears. All of a sudden Scar falls backwards, pulling you helplessly along with him. You make an embarrassing, surprised little squeak on the way down, reflexively clinging to him until you both land on the bed behind you.
He lets out an amused little chuckle and rolls over, putting you both on your sides with his chest pressed against your back. He buries his face in your throat with a sigh and finally frees your mouth so he can hold you close like a plushie.
"I know what you were trying to do," he murmurs into your ear, a threatening undertone to his voice.
Your breath catches in your throat before you can stop it. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just busy."
His lips dance across your skin, and you can feel his smile against your throat. "You don't think I'm gullible, do you?"
Well, dammit. So much for that. You try to look at him to gauge his reaction, but his arms only tighten around you. His face is hidden in your neck anyway, so it's a lost cause.
"I'm... sorry?"
"As long as you don't try it again, dollface."
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For a few months, maybe a year (depending on the timing and your temperament) Scar doesn't think he'll need to kidnap you. You're somewhere safe, in a place where he can come find you whenever he pleases. Why bother? Besides, it's nice watching you go about your day.
Unfortunately, he slowly comes around more and more over time, making this outcome inevitable. There are two primary factors. The prophecy is the first; his free time dwindles more and more as it nears its fulfillment, and the idea of having you available at any given moment becomes a more alluring prospect day by day. Alternatively, you're too desperate to get rid of him, and he decides it would be easier to isolate you, away from any "pesky helpers," as he would put it.
Scar tosses the idea around in his mind for a few days before he makes his final decision. He won't even keep it a secret from you, either; he tells you this casually in the spur of the moment, in a bid for your attention. Maybe you seem disinterested, too busy paying attention to something else. Maybe you've realized his "weakness," as you might call it, and tried to give him the silent treatment. Either way, what you do can push him towards a decision a little early. He usually takes great care to reign in his impulses, but with you, he doesn't have to. An ordinary citizen like yourself would have quite a bit of difficulty getting away from him, after all. He finds your helplessness freeing, to a degree.
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"I've been thinking lately," Scar trails off, clearly fishing for your response.
"You can do that?" It's out of your mouth before you can think to stop it. You almost regret giving him what he wants, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. At the very least, you can focus on the dishes you're washing instead of sparing him a glance.
He snorts, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge your comment. "I think it's about time we take our relationship to the next level. Don't you?"
Your head snaps in his direction. "The hell does that mean?" you demand. Your face twists in a mixture of confusion and slowly dawning horror, an expression the bastard revels in. His toothy grin widens, and with a flick of his wrist, he produces a card out of thin air to idly spin and flip between his fingers.
"It's been really nice spending time with you here, you know? But unfortunately, duty calls, and I can't always spare the time to come visit." Scar sighs dramatically with an exaggerated frown, resting both arms on the back of your couch. "It's such a shame. I'm sure you miss me, don't you?"
You uneasily turn back to the dishes, putting another on the drying rack and picking up a new one. "Not really. Don't you have any friends to talk to?"
"And there's the other point!" You refuse to look at him, but you can hear his footsteps as he leisurely saunters to the kitchen. You try to focus on scrubbing off a particularly stubborn patch of grease on your pan. "You can be so hard to deal with sometimes! It makes me wonder if all the effort I go through to keep you happy is worth it."
You furrow your brows, a frown tugging at your lips. The moment you move to speak, a red-tipped finger comes from behind to press against your lips in a shushing motion. "Now, now, dear. No need to tell me it isn't true." His face leans into view from over your shoulder with a smile. "Besides, I'm sure you'll be just as excited for this as I am."
"Excited for wh-"
Scar cuts you off without words, making the world spin as he turns you around to face him. Your pan falls with a clatter, and suddenly you're faced away from the window above the sink and looking up into his face, split by an ear-to-ear grin. His pupils are blown wide with excitement, lit up by a manic glint in his usually dull irises.
"You're coming with me. You have three days to write out your will and say goodbye to the people you care about," he spoke, his voice rough at the edges and trembling with suppressed amusement. His hands rest on the edge of the counter on each side of you, caging you in. "Try to run away or tell anyone, and I'll kill them all. Obey, and they can live."
Scar leans in so close that his nose brushes yours, with a stare so intense you would have thought his eyes were glowing. "We have a lot of things we can do with their bodies. Would you like to see what a Tacet Discord born of human flesh looks like?"
You can't tear your eyes away from his intense, bright stare for even a second. With slow, trembling movements, you shake your head.
"Now that's what I wanted to see." Scar leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, only pulling away after a long moment. "Not so hard, was it? I'm sure you'll be alright, there's no need to be scared!" He brightens up in a flash, any trace of his previous threats gone. He licks his lips as he turns away from you.
"All that being said, I'm sure something similar will happen to your family in the true Lament, so it doesn't matter. But if it makes you happy, I don't mind leaving them be in the meantime." Scar looks up at nothing in particular, summoning another card to toy with idly. His spare hand rests behind his back.
"Isn't it boring how the world is stagnating?" Scar starts up again. "Chaos, as orchestrated by the great Threnodians, can create a form of equality impossible to achieve with our current status quo..." His voice turns fuzzy in your mind as you tune his droning out. Three days? Where is he taking you? What about your life?
You take a shaky breath, bringing a hand up to tug at your hair. Wasn't there anything you could do? All his talk of controlling one's own destiny flashes in your mind, mocking you. Would you ever see your family again?
You only realize that Scar has noticed your breakdown when he places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you close. "Aww, don't cry," he murmurs, wiping away tears you didn't even realize were falling with a thumb. "It's not so bad, I promise." His lips stretch into a facsimile of a comforting smile, and he strokes your hair in an attempt at comfort. He pulls your face into his shoulder, periodically shushing you.
You stay like that for a few minutes, and when he deems you suitably stable, he moves to lean on you with one arm on your shoulder, the other outstretched before the both of you in a grand gesture. "Don't worry, just imagine it. Wouldn't it be lovely, being safe and sound by my side in my new world?"
"Not at all. Are you sure you don't hate me?" You mumble, your voice rough and tired.
He rolls his eyes. "Darling, I could never. Oh well, I'm sure you'll come around." Scar shrugs it off. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers, and his eyes flash, as though he had remembered something important. "Oh, by the way, the rest of today is the first of the three days. Would you like to get a head start?"
Fuck.
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One day, Scar returns from one of his excursions with a plan in mind. Without a word, he sits you down in the makeshift infirmary of his Fractsidus hideout of choice for the week. For once, he refuses to answer any of your questions, instead opting to gather a few medical supplies from around the room. When he's satisfied with the collection—bandages, ointment, and a bottle of painkillers—he sets them down on the table next to you.
"Did you get hurt out there or something?" You cross your arms and lean back in the uncomfortable metal chair. "Don't expect me to bandage you up." If that growing smile is anything to go by, he knows you're just trying to cover up your sense of unease, but he doesn't call you out on it.
"You wound me. But to answer your question, not quite."
The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. What could he have planned?
Scar isn't going to let you theorize for too long, it seems. He kneels in front of you, one of his signature ram skull cards held flat against the palm of his hand. He ignores you as you flinch away, tensing up, eyes darting between him and his hand.
"What are you doing?" you hiss. Scar chuckles in lieu of a response. His hand drifts up to the side of your throat, pressing his palm—and the smooth side of the card within it—firmly to the skin of your throat. As if reading your mind, his opposite hand lands on your opposite shoulder, keeping you in place before you can try anything.
With a wink, a sharp-toothed grin, and a faint flash of red from beneath his hand, he sears the card's image into your skin with a flash of white-hot pain. The rest is a blur. All you can remember are your cries as he presses your face into his shoulder, stroking your hair as he shushes you.
Now you sit on the couch, with a cup of (instant, but still) hot chocolate in hand and soft bandages around your throat. Scar crosses one leg over the other and slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close.
"Why?" you ask simply, with not even enough energy left to look at him.
He hums in mock thought, making a show out of considering his words. "Well, there's really not much to it," he shrugs with one of his characteristic smiles. "I was just thinking of something more... permanent, today."
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lucyswinter · 2 days
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༘⋆ ❅ Snow Day・:*:。 ❆
pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader
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summary: spencer’s coworker convinces him to skip an important meeting to play with her in the snow
genre: fluff
warnings: none!
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(a/n): haven’t posted in a hot sec! even though it’s the middle of may, i was feeling cozy and decided to write a fic set in december. enjoy! (only briefly proofread)
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“y/n! Hey.!” Spencer said as he turned around in his swivel chair to see a bubbly BAU agent moving quickly towards his desk. His face flushed pink, but he was sure if was just from the heating units they had been blasting in the office nonstop for the past week.
“Hey Spence!” she smiled at him as she skipped over to his desk, her skirt peppered with hearts swishing with her quick movements. Her cheeks were burning pink from the warmth of the office. She stopped for a moment to push her brunette hair behind her ears, adorned with cute earrings shaped like cats. “I know you’re going to hate me for this, but that grumpypants Hotch wanted me to let you know that there’s a meeting in the main lecture room in 20.” She informed him, an exaggerated look of disappointment on her face.
“Oh, thank you" Spencer said with a chuckle. He couldn't help but notice how cute she looked today. His eyes drifted down to her skirt that was peppered with hearts, and he felt his heart skip a beat.
“Mhm!” she dropped the disappointed act and grinned at him again before turning around and skipping to the other side of the room to talk to Garcia. She had on her skirt, and a blue cardigan with snowflakes on it, since it was finally December. The first snow of the season had just arrived, and her and Garcia were plotting to sneak off and enjoy some snow time.
As she left, Spencer let out a shaky breath. He couldn't stop thinking about her and how adorable she looked in that skirt. His mind begins to wander, and visions of cat earrings and blue cardigans danced through his head.
From across the office, Spencer could hear her chattering with Garcia about how to sneak out and what they would do in the snow. As unsuspecting as they were trying to seem, they were being much too obvious about their plans.
She could feel Spencer’s gaze on her, and suddenly the warmth of the office wasn’t the only thing heating her up. She looked from side to side before waving Spencer over quietly “Spencer!” she whisper yelled “C’mere!”
Spencer look around to make sure no one was watching him, playing in to her bit, and quickly stood up, making sure to tip toe for dramatic effect. He gave up after a few paces and proceeded to walk over to y/n and Garcia
"Yes, y/n?" he asked nervously. Not that she made him nervous- well, she did. But In all honesty he was more scared of what her and Garcia had cooked up.
“Okay so” she looked over to Garcia and giggled “We were thinking-“
“Who is we? You’re on your own for this one, sweetheart.” Penelope laughed, and y/n rolled her eyes.
“Anyways… I was thinking of ditching Hotch’s meeting to go enjoy the snow…want to join us? I mean…me?”
Spencer's heart rate sped up at the thought of being alone with her in the snow. He couldn't believe his luck.
"Oh um, sure. I’d love to join you" He said, trying his hardest to keep his voice from cracking.
Her face lit up at his response. “Great! We just need to make sure no one suspects us… everyone else would totally rat us out…” she told him, suspiciously eyeing Morgan, knowing he of all people would not find their antics amusing.
"I, uh, I may have a few ideas," Spencer said, his mind racing. He glanced around the office, considering his options. "What if” he paused for dramatic effect. “Instead of skipping the meeting, we...”
He was cut off by a giggle and a shush “Nope! I will not be talked out of this” she grinned “The is revenge for Hotch being such a frump and making us stay later on a snowy day!”
Spencer couldn't help but chuckle at her stubbornness. He found her confidence viciously attractive. He let out a small sigh, because he knew there was no point in arguing with her when she got like this.
“Alright, alright," he said, giving in. He was met with an eardrum shattering squeal and two hands grabbing in to his, connected to a body now jumping with joy. He smiled. “Let's go enjoy the snow."
She detached her hands from his to clap and let out another squeal.
“Okay, so, we both have to go out at different times. I’ll go first, then you. Okay Spence?” He nodded, giving her an awkward thumbs up. She grinned as she looked around once more.
“Alright.., see you out there” she saluted him, before getting up and not-so-nonchalantly walking out of the office and into the hallway. You could hear her pennyloafers clacking down the stairs until she finally reached the door and ran outside.
Spencer watched her leave, the smile not leaving his face. He glanced around the office, making eye contact with Morgan. He panicked and left the office, following quickly behind.
As he walked out the front doors of their building and onto the city streets, he saw her run out onto the snowy sidewalk and dance around in the rain of falling snowflakes. She had no jacket, so the small lumps of ice just collected on her hair and cardigan.
“Hey Spence, I caught one on my tongue!” She laughed as she twirled around.
He stepped forward out into the snow, his breath forming small clouds in front of him. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her dance in the snowflakes. He quickly took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders before joining her on the sidewalk.
“No! I don’t need that. I’ll be fine. A little snow never hurt anybody!“ She told him. He sighed again at her stubbornness.
“No, really! I insist. You’re going to freeze to death out here! Actually, I was reading this interesting statistic about how last year, nearly 26% of all frostbite contracted was severe-“
“You look cute, yknow? When you geek out, or whatever.” She paused, cocking her head and making an confusing face, one which Spencer did not understand. After a while, she spoke again. “What’s your IQ?”
“187”
“Woah”
“What’s yours?”
“104…I think.”
They both stood there silently for a moment, the sound of cars beeping and sloshing in the sludge filled the air. This time, Spencer broke the silence.
“You called me cute.”
“Are you accusing me?”
“No just…just pointing it out-“
“Well, it’s true.”
She smiled softly at him. Her pennyloafers left shoe-shaped prints in the thin layer of snow that covered the sidewalk. She took a few steps forward, almost an arms length away from Spencer.
“We should go inside”
“Yeah”
They both stood there for a moment, looking at each other and enjoying the peacefulness of the snowfall. The tranquil sounds of the city had just faded into white noise. She waited a few more moments before she walked a bit closer to him, close enough to touch. She looked down and touched his pinky to hers. He shivered, but smiled and gave her a small nod when she looked up at him. She gave him a wide grin, complete with chattering teeth, and hesitantly laced her hand into his. He jumped at the feeling.
“Gosh your hands are cold.”
“We’re out in the snow, what did you expect.”
He just shook his head and chuckled, but his hand remained locked with hers.
“How about we head back inside. Before anyone notices us gone.”
She nodded in response, swinging their interlocked hands together for a few seconds before leading the him towards the front doors of the office.
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(a/n): thanks for reading! ❄️🌨☃️
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gojoidyll · 7 hours
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Back on my Boothill x Halovian!Reader agenda!! People want more, well, here's some more!! <3
feel free to request any boothill x halovian!reader scenarios cause I honestly like this dynamic heh
how you met
I imagine that Boothill was looking to buy a new hat. The old one got torn up in a gun fight, much to his dismay so he had to go get a new one, also to his dismay.
Cowboy hats were hard to come by surprisingly, but luckily he found just the store.
The store itself had an influx of clothes and other accessories that could be found anywhere and from any time. Cowboy hats included.
Now, when he walked into the shabby looking antique clothing store. He was surprised that there were actually quite a bit of customers, but he paid no mind to it because he maneuvered himself right to where he knew the hats were. And boy there was quite a selection. Luckily, however, it didn't take long to find one that matched his ... certain aesthetic. Grinning with that pointed grin of his, he reached for the hat that caught his eye, but only to be met with grabbing another hand.
"Huh"
He looked over and met a pair of eyes just as shocked as he was.
"Sorry about that sir. I was trying to get the hat behind the one you were getting."
It was you. A pretty little thing with ears sprouting behind your head. It was obvious to Boothill that you were a halovian. Though, he will admit that this was the first time he ever saw one up close and personal.
"That's alright, missy," he took off the hat that he wanted after letting go of her hand and even grabbed the hat she wanted to give it to her, "though, just so you know, I would of fought ya for this hat if need be."
The little laugh you let out was music to his ears. Damn, the rumors that halovians were angelic in everything they do must be true, was what he thought.
"Even if that was the case... I would win," you sent him a little wink before walking towards one of the nearest mirrors to check out how the hat looked on you. And Boothill does admit that he checked you a little before deciding to leave.
Though leaving proved to be harder than he thought. Especially when the cashier was trying to rob him of all the credits that he owned.
"Why you fudging little-"
It was an argument, alright. But what surprised him was the little gasp you let out when you came to wait for your turn at the cash register.
"Mister you can't... you can't say that!"
"Huh?"
It was the second time that day that that little confusion slipped out. However, when he looked at your appalled expression something sort of clicked in his mind.
He heard that halovians are able to communicate with others through their feelings. But, as far as Boothill knew, they could only do that with other halovians.
But judging by your expression, you heard every cuss word that left his lips.
He didn't know how you were able to do it, especially considering he wasn't fully human anymore nor a halovian. But in that moment he didn't care as he sported a wicked grin.
He just found himself a new translator until his synesthesia beacon was fixed.
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It Is Your Birthday, Enjoy
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In honor of my birthday I wrote this really self indulgent thing featuring the first two survivors i loved in IDV lolol
Rated: Explicit | Warnings: Based on AoM, BDSM Themes, Virgin Norton, Voyeurism, okay is just horny man
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Orpheus and you are writers.
Two different genres yet both understand the work and details needed to create the pieces you both make.
“He agreed!?” Stopping your pen to give Orpheus your full attention as he keeps writing.
“Mr. Campbell did indeed agree provided he is given extra pay for the trouble.”
You do not know the reason why Orpheus hired Norton Campbell, a former Coal Miner turned unemployed Prospector. You only see him when crossing paths after Orpheus pays him. Considering Orpheus is both a secretive man and one who does detective work as if he is solving real cases (you have to wonder though given most of his books are based on old cases), Norton may be hired muscle.
“I… Am surprised. Are you sure he is willing?” Concern about Norton agreeing to this with no hesitation from what your partner explained in his retelling of the event prior to him visiting your room.
The Oletus Manor, Orpheus claims it from a childhood he is slowly piecing together. The manor was in ruins, barely standing even. However, with the funds of a renowned Novelist, the manor looks as if nothing ever burned or looted these walls.
He is quite proud of it.
“Of course,” Closing his notebook, “Mr. Campbell is willing as long as the money flows into his hands.”
You frown, “You make him seem like a prostitute, Orpheus…”
There is a coy smirk on that devilishly handsome face, “Your words, not mine, beloved.” Getting up from his seat at your desk to kiss your forehead as you are lying on the bed writing. “Upon dawn, all that you desire shall be yours.”
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The following morning, you go to breakfast thinking about how you rather eat ice cream right now. Oh, maybe there was that chocolate truffle cake Orpheus snuck in when he thought he was being sneaky. You smile as you enter the dining room then see Norton standing over by the window with his arms crossed and a grumpy look on his face.
“Good morning, Mr. Campbell.” Greeting him.
Norton snaps out of his thoughts to see you walking toward him, “Mornin’,” His eyes skim at you over your form dressed particularly nice today, “Suppose you're expecting something from me right now.” He is not frowning but still looks stern.
“Huh? No, I only wanted to be polite.” Oh, he probably has the wrong impression of you, “Uh-hmm, I wanted to ask about what Orpheus—” Cut off by lips on your, hand pulling you in close by shoulders. His lips are not badly chapped. When he stops kissing you, you realize he tastes of chocolate.
“Happy birthday.” Walking away leaving you confused and frazzled.
This will not be the only time he kisses you.
After breakfast, eating alone as Orpheus said he would be busy until the evening, you find out Norton is to be your company for the day.
“You can't just kiss people like that!” Currently outside on this sunny day at the racecourse, “At least, warn me!”
“Where's the fun in that,” Laughing a bit as he oversees the repairs, “Anyway compare getting a kiss to,” Lowering his voice and leaning into your space beside him, “Being told how you want another man inside of you.”
You are grateful to be up on the tower overlooking the racecourse so no one but Norton Campbell can see you embarrassed and fumbling with your words.
“Lucky you, I don't mind letting you wet my dick.”
“Must you be so crude!?”
“Why bother sugarcoating it when your precious Novelist said much worse.” Pulling back to look at his clipboard full of papers, “The man knows how to paint a pretty picture with those words of his… Especially about you.”
“How much…?”
“I'm sure he told you.” Norton glances over at you to see you looking at him, “Understand, I don't mind this arrangement so long as I get paid and I am only touching you.”
You feel shy, “Only me.”
“Only you, Orpheus will have to add more if he thinks I'm going to be his bitch. Even then, I ain’t taking his fucking dick in me.”
You want to tell him that Orpheus would much rather do the opposite but you stay quiet instead.
A few hours in the racecourse before you both start heading down the tower to go back to the manor for lunch. You only stop when Norton tells you to follow him into the stables.
There are no horses, yet, the stables are barren as it is not the priority compared to the rest of the racecourse. You wonder what and why Orpheus is repairing a place with such a dark story. His book brings back to light the fall of Mary Kreiburg, both by family and by the people's hands. You look around the messy area as Norton walks ahead of you.
“Look over here.” Norton pointed to something ahead of him. You raise an eyebrow as you go over in front of him only to see a broken shelf of trophies and pictures of horses and their riders.
“It looks old— Norton!?” Trapped in his arms.
“Relax,” You do as you realize too quickly his intentions when hands are on your breasts, “We have to be quiet.” You shiver as his breath is hot on your ear. You hold the shelf's frame as Norton touches you with the barrier of your clothes limiting the sensation of his hands on your skin.
“Open your legs,” You do, “When he said you would give in easily, I didn't think you would be this easy.”
“Would you rather I treat this differently?” You bite back though you moan when his hand slips down your pants.
A suit. Orpheus picked it for you when you wanted to be more masculine. Though he adores your dresses, he also enjoys the eroticism of suits on you.
“You can fight, your partner told me everything you like,” Norton gets your pants down your ankles, underlings moved to the side exposing your intimate part to the air, “Who would have thought you were such a—”
“Please don't.” Stopping him mid-sentence, “I know what I am… I didn't mean to force you into this.”
He stopped, your head tilted back to look up at him, “(Name), I ain’t doing this by force.” The sound of his pants being undone follows, “I want to fuck you, writer.” You gasp as his cock rubs between the lips of your pussy, “Going to make sure you are screaming my name all night.”
It is a bit difficult for him to grind against your pussy as you are not wet enough, so he stimulates you by touching more. Rubbing your clit, playing with your breasts, kissing you; you get wet and breathing heavily.
His pace is slow, one can say sweet as he guides you close your legs, kissing your neck and ear. When he goes fast you learn Orpheus made a single rule, one Norton agrees to only because he wants to see the way you are at the mercy of another.
“Don't cum. Boss's orders.”
“Norton, please.” Barely able to keep your voice down, “I need, oh God, please!?”
“No.” Slapping your ass causing you to moan louder, “Damn, you are into anything.” Chuckles at your misery, “You can cum but know you're the one facing the consequences.”
You struggle to not crumble as Norton is not making it easy for you, each thrust closer and closer bringing you to the edge.
It is downright a blessing that Norton cums before you fall, his cum on the shelf and dripping on the floor. You whine with frustration, your body trembling as you are going to have to walk around miserably horny.
“Well look at that, you didn't cum.”
You are going to explode.
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“Glad to see you two had fun,” Orpheus is in the small living room with a small glass bottle in his hand, one leg over the other as he sits by the unused fireplace. There are pillows, leather cuffs, and a blindfold on the rug, “Were they well-behaved?” Pleasant as if you are not looking in shock at the things laid out so casually. 
“Very. Like a dog.”
Your arms are crossed over your chest your breasts are tender, “This feels like a chapter from 120 Days of Sodom.”
Orpheus' laugh is rich, loud, and pure, “My apologies but my greed for you will only allow for one another to share in such debauchery. All with the participants' permission of course.” Eyes shifting from you to Norton, “Mr. Campbell.”
“Tsk, I already signed the damn contract, what more do you need?” Moving from your side to stand next to Orpheus.
“Contract?” Curious.
“An agreement between gentlemen, my dear,” Waving it off, “Now this is about you, not us. We are merely your gifts this evening.” Orpheus is studying you, “Undress.”
Norton half expected him to be one doing the work or having to put on a show. Instead, you undress with no nervous moments, and when done after placing your clothes on the couch, you stand there with your hands behind your back.
“Kneel,” Orpheus is stern, “Wrists presented.” Norton is not sure what to do but watch the events unfold, this seems odd. Odd because Orpheus is cuffing your hands together with leather cuffs, tilting your head back as the blindfold is placed. Norton had to look away when you were panting from the silk gloves tracing your skin, applying pressure on the bite mark on your shoulder. The side eye he got from the Novelist has malice, it is amused.
“(Name), lay back,” You do as you are told, “Open your mouth.” You open your mouth as Orpheus pops the bottle open and pours gently the thick purple contents into your mouth.
Once done, you lick your lips then smile, “Grape.”
“It took a few attempts but there you have it.”
There you lay naked on a nest of pillows, you fidget in your spot, “Thank you…Both of you.” Beaming as your lover kisses your cheek before returning to his seat.
“Mr. Campbell, it is your turn.”
Norton snaps out of his wandering thoughts and clears his throat, “About time.” Stepping forward until Orpheus cuts him off with his hand blocking the way, “What?”
“Undress,” Spoken with a lighter tone, “We are the gift.”
“Tsk, maybe if you didn't cuff them maybe they could've unwrapped their gift, Orpheus.”
A hum, “Point made.” Norton curses at the way Orpheus, who looks weak compared to him, can also seem so intimidating, “Shall I take responsibility?” The hand moves up and hooks a finger between the suspenders and the workman's shirt.
“N-no,” Shoving passes as he undresses, “What did you give (Name)?”
“A form of aphrodisiac. They wanted to experience it.” Shamelessly watching the Prospector undress, enjoying the seconds of hesitation when Norton catches those brown eyes on his figure.
Feels like a wolf… A wolf in sheep's clothing. It would be disrespectful to call Norton the sheep, a ram perhaps?
“Orpheus,” You were quiet as the drug worked through your system, “I… Can I cum?”
“As freely as you wish, however,” Norton is not fully naked and feast for the eyes, “You should ask Norton for permission now.”
You whimper, “Norton,” Hands are on your knees opening your legs, “I was good. I didn't cum all day.”
“Begging already? Hah, you are like a dog.”
You hate that made you moan, wetter (bad enough you were wet from before still), and needy as all hell.
“B-bark.” You do not do what he wants, “L-like that?” Genuinely asking.
Orpheus snickers from behind as Norton stares in shock, worse that made his cock stir, “Just say my name, fuck.” Grumbling.
You do say his name, loud enough it echoes in the room, as Norton drives in between your legs without warning. Legs arching as he eats you out as if he has been denied all fucking day. All day as if he has not been the one keeping you on edge by randomly touching you until you were begging— And you beg easily.
Another man is touching you, another man is touching you in front of Orpheus, and Orpheus wants to see you fall apart.
Orpheus had been the one who asked your thoughts on Norton Campbell, he wanted honesty. You think the Prospector is handsome, intimidating, but you said too you understand him. Well, you understand what it is like to struggle against the odds against you, the beating life gives is relentless, and you understand the hatred.
You put that hatred into words in a book.
Orpheus watches as Norton is not the brute with you as he had tried to scare him into believing, the Novelist had simply told Norton to look to him if he needs assistance.
The Prospector is a virgin. Plain and simple, the Novelist does not think little of him for lacking experience. It is natural for a distrustful man not to allow him to be vulnerable, the world is cruel. Seeing you understand that, tell Orpheus of bitter feelings, jealousies, and resents… This is as much a gift to you as it is to Norton.
So indulge, seeing Norton explore a body already claimed; fall into the illusion of lust, see Norton consumed by the wonder that is your presence; often nightmares are the sweet dreams that ensnares, you kiss him as the man enters your welcoming heat.
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steviewashere · 1 day
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The Great Cornholio
Rating: General CW: Implied/Referenced Animal Abandonment, Implied/Referenced Animal Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abandonment, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Mild Angst, Fluff, Steve Harrington is Impulsive, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Soft Steve Harrington, Soft Eddie Munson, Adopting a Dog, Beavis and Butthead Reference, Cornholio the Dog, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Domestic Steddie, Domestic Fluff
🐕—————🐕 There’s a disrupting clatter of noise coming from the front door of their apartment. Eddie stops immediately what he’s been doing in the kitchen—wiping down counters and putting away the dry dishes from the rack—and listens in. Shushing. Scraping? And then…a whine.
“Steve?” He calls out.
All of the sounds immediately stop. Unnervingly so.
“Uh…Steve, you alright?” He calls out again. “You didn’t get into another fight again, did you? I think we’re out of rubbing alcohol, so it’ll be a bitch to disinfect any wounds you got.”
Subtle shuffling comes closer to the open doorway of the kitchen. Eddie turns to look. Steve’s standing in his work clothes, vest over his polo, jeans straight down his legs, shoes still laced. He’s flushed bright red. Nervously fiddling with his fingers. He shifts from foot to foot and peers up at Eddie through his eyelashes. Mirth glints at him.
“What’d you do,” Eddie sighs.
Steve smiles at him. All his teeth. Squinting his eyes so hard, they nearly look closed. “I got us something,” he giddily states, “you’re going to love it.”
Eddie gestures for him to get whatever this thing is. And waits, dish gloves up to his elbows, barefoot and in his pajamas, half-tired, not showered. He had a day off from work, the automotive shop around the corner, so what if he does chores and nothing else? But he’s especially exhausted. Just wants to relax. And knows, whatever Steve’s done, will tarnish all of that.
A couple minutes later, Steve comes back towards the kitchen. Vest gone, shoes off. Hands behind his back. Squirming left and right as his grip subtly—or not so subtly—changes. Slowly, carefully, he reveals the contents of his hands. And staring back at Eddie is a dog.
It’s a smaller breed—whatever breed it is. Soft looking, white fur. Ears that fold over like airplane wings. Big, brown, bug-like eyes. Pink nose, straight tail, short legs, and six toes on the front left foot. The dog’s cute, Eddie can objectively notice. It doesn’t mind being held, considering how Steve’s holding it close to his belly like it’s a toddler. And it’s not barking at him, like most dogs do the first time they’re introduced to him. This one’s rather mellow. Very relaxed. Though, that may just be from nerves.
“I got a dog,” Steve says. His voice goes a little high with his happiness. Smile bright and big and unmistakeable. Eyes excited and warm.
Eddie already knows he won’t turn this away.
“I can see that,” he states. “Is it our dog or—“
“His name is Cornholio. Like in Beavis and Butthead. And I’ve got all the supplies in the trunk,” Steve begins explaining, barreling over Eddie’s question. Okay, so it’s definitely ours, Eddie notes. “Cornholio here is housebroken. He knows how to sit and lay down. He’ll be sleeping with us in bed, I’m not making him lay in a dog bed by himself. And I’m going to buy him his own turkey to eat for dinner. And—“
“Wait, wait, wait,” Eddie interrupts. Immediately, Steve stops talking. And his smile fades. Looking more like…Well, it’s in bad taste, but he looks like a kicked puppy. The longer Eddie takes to collect himself, though, Steve appears as if his entire family has been slaughtered in front of his eyes. Eddie rubs a, now gloveless, hand between his eyebrows. “We didn’t talk about getting a dog? What led you to do this? How much did he cost? Have you factored in the possibility that either of us could be allergic?” Calm down, he scolds himself. He takes a quick, steadying breath. “I’m not…We can keep the dog, Stevie. But I—I’m not prepared for a dog.”
Steve cradles the dog closer to himself. Looks down at the top of his head and kisses the fur between his ears. Cornholio looks up with his big brown eyes, his tail wags as much as it can where Steve’s holding him, and he licks the underside of Steve’s jaw. “I just thought it would be nice to have a little buddy around,” he murmurs lowly, a little sad. “There was an ad for the humane society in the newspaper this morning and I thought, y’know, what if I looked after work? Just for the shits and giggles of it, but then I saw him. 
“And he’d been there for three years. He used to be left alone at his old house for weeks on end. Just left with scraps and the bag of dog food. Whatever he could find. He was lonely and sad and…Somebody finally called for him to be taken in.” Steve shrugs as much as he can with the weight of the dog between his arms. Looks up to Eddie, his eyes just as big as Cornholio’s, wet and tired. Meekly, he adds, “He made me think of myself. When…When my parents would just leave me all alone.”
Oh, Eddie thinks. His chest feels heavier. Head foggier. Eyes stinging.
“And you wanted to give him a better chance than what you had,” Eddie says, though he meant it like a question. It comes out a little breathy, too much of a realization to be anything more than that. Steve nods slowly, gently.
“He was only $50. I’ll return him if it’s a prob—“
“No, no,” Eddie rushes. He forces himself to move forward. Stand close and in Steve’s space. He peers down at the top of Cornholio’s little head, his tantalizingly soft fur. So, he scratches his nails over the baby’s scalp. He peers up at Steve again. At his impossibly sadder eyes, just a second away from bursting into tears. His free hand comes up and cups Steve’s left cheek. Thumb gently swiping over his cheekbone. “I think that you picked a good one, sweetheart. This baby’s adorable,” he coos. “Look, he’s even got my eyes.”
Steve scoffs. “Your eyes? He’s my son!”
Eddie hums. “Actually, he’s our son,” he murmurs. Smiles small to himself at the way Steve preens at those words. “And his name is Cornholio, like in Beavis and Butthead. And he’s going to eat turkey with us every night. And he can sleep between us in bed to ward off our nightmares, yeah?”
“Really? You’re not mad?”
He shrugs. “No, maybe just a little scrambled. But…I’m also an impulsive person, so this matters none.” Cornholio’s fur is incredibly soft under his hand. And he looks up at the two of them with all the gentleness in the world. And, maybe, Eddie thinks he could die happy here and now.
Steve leans in a little closer. Rests his cheek on Eddie’s shoulder as they both peer down at the little white dog. “Huh,” he mutters, “I guess he does have your eyes.”
“See?” Eddie asks softly, grinning. “Match made in heaven. How about we take him on a walk? Show him our picnic spot?”
Abruptly, Steve gasps. “Oh my gosh!” He crows, “We can take him on our picnics with us! And he can meet all the dogs at the park! And he can lay in our laps! And—“
Chuckling, Eddie swipes a soothing hand down Steve’s back. He’s bouncing in place, probably five seconds away from lift-off into the ceiling. He kisses Steve’s temple. Murmurs, “I’ll make some sandwiches, alright? Go get his collar and leash.”
Steve positively squeals.
And Eddie was right. This does ruin the plans he had on his day off, but he figures this is better. Way better than anything he could’ve done for himself. There was no way he was going to turn down the opportunity to see his boy happy.
🐕—————🐕
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clubdionysus · 3 days
Text
[BAD DECISION #31] The Photo Booth
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warnings: THE photoboth chapter!!!! a legend amongst bd readers!!!! we meet jaykays mum (shes the best) and his dad (legend), byeol gets her own back for the 'daddy' debacle, teasing, shameless flirting, a lil dirty talk, jaykay is desperate and whiney (just how we like him!!), precum...swapping?? as much as it can be swapped lmao, jaykay does her glitter ::(((((, a date! between friends!! some would argue!!, photobooths, kissing !!!!, oh god I love them so much, very cute, mmmmmm the way he says goodnight!! or alternatively, the way he doesn't say goodnight!!, our babies are v confused <3 cos they are stewpid <33
wc: 9k
bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)
AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
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"Mum? Dad?" Jeongguk calls into the entryway of his family home, pushing the door further open with his shoulder.
Your bag is hooked over his broad back, along with his own, Jeongguk not even considering it a favour. Just helps you out in little ways whenever he can, just because he can. You do what you can to make his life easier, and so it's reciprocated without a second thought.
Carrying a bunch of fresh flowers that had hastily been picked up from the shop across the street, you're a little nervous. There was no way you could show up empty-handed, but had been so scatterbrained when you left your place, it had completely slipped your mind. They're pretty pink posies and are something - which is always better than nothing, even if they aren't all that impressive.
"Oh, you're here!" A sweet voice calls from the back of the house. The sound of indoor slippers scuff against the wooden floors, as his mother scurries to greet you both. "I thought you'd call when you were on your way!"
"Sorry," he apologises and leans down to let the bags softly tumble to the floor, before outstretching his arm for a hug. "Left in a bit of a rush."
Squeezing his mother gently, his back eclipses her from your view. Hands patting his back, you think you can tell a lot about a person from their hands - and she's no exception.
Well-manicured, his mum clearly looks after herself. She wears just two rings - her wedding band and engagement ring. Gold. The only remaining elements of her wedding jewellery that had survived the '98 gold drive.
"Spent my whole life in that house," Jeongguk had said of his family home on the journey to Busan. He'd been opening up. Telling you tales that you'd have never heard if you had declined his offer. Is clueing you in on the life that formed him. Wants you to know. "They held onto it throughout everything. The financial crisis, turn of the century, everything. I'm lucky. We were never well-off, but they never let me know when we were struggling."
It explains a lot about who Jeongguk is, you think. Never wants others to shoulder his burdens. Keeps things bottled up until the glass shatters - but you can see through glass. You always know.
A modest three-bed, there's something nostalgic about the four walls he calls home. Though you've never been here, it somehow feels familiar - but that's perhaps more so to do with the scent of laundry drying, and the fact that Jeongguk uses the same fabric conditioner as his mother always has done.
Swanning Jeongguk out of the way, his mother greets you with a smile that could stoke warmth in even the coldest of hearts - and suddenly, you understand exactly where Jeongguk gets it from.
Dark, round eyes, and a smile as radiant as a spring day, she's got the kind of delicate nature bestowed upon Disney princesses. If you were to learn she'd been a model in her youth, you wouldn't be surprised. 
Introducing yourself,  you hold out the flowers for her to take.
"For you," you offer, a little shy and reserved, in a way that Jeongguk doesn't see too often. Your glitter - toned down today, for some reason - sparkles in the late afternoon sun that pours through the windows. "Thank you so much for offering to host me. I really hope it hasn't put you out too much-"
"Oh, don't be silly," she tuts, flipping her hand away as if to emphasise that it really is no big deal. "It's always lovely to have Jeongguk's friends staying with us."
She glances over to Jeongguk. Leans in a little closer. Whispers just loud enough for him to hear. "Plus I'm sure you'll be a far better house guest than Jimin ever is!"
"Mum!" Jeongguk goes to defend his housemate - but he knows his mother adores Jimin. Treats him like a third son. Knows she's creating an alliance with you, given the little lie Jeongguk told about you previously dating Jimin.
"What?!" She plays innocent, and it's suddenly so easy to see why Jeongguk is the way that he is. A product of the people around him, he soaks up their best qualities like a sponge in search of water. His playfulness must come from her. Taking the bunch of flowers, she smiles. "Let's go put these in a vase. You must be hungry."
"Ravenous," Jeongguk confirms, as if he didn't eat half an hour ago. "What's for dinner? And where's dad?"
"At the driving range," she tuts, encouraging you both further into the house.
Large and open plan, the sitting room is adjacent to the kitchen; a space designed for socialisation, it's clear that Jeongguk's parents enjoy hosting. It's no surprise that they agreed to let you stay without hesitation, and is also why Jeongguk had no qualms about asking.
"Minhyuk got a new driver that he wanted to show off, apparently," she continues. "A Titlelist. Got it in some dodgy back alley sale. Your father reckons he's been scammed, but Minhyuk reckons it's the real deal, so I'll guess we'll see."
"Minhyuk lives down the road," Jeongguk explains to you as his mum rummages around in a cupboard to find her favourite vase. He's smiling, amused by it all. "Bit of a busybody. Likes being in people's business, so Dad likes to return the favour. Petty middle-aged man shit."
"Watch your language," his mother scolds. He apologises immediately.
It's sweet, seeing Jeongguk like this. He's always been respectful, even if he does swear like a sailor and has a sense of humour that would send a prude to an early grave.
"As for dinner, I told your father to meet us at the samgyeopsal place you like down by the beach-"
"Ugh," Jeongguk smiles, beaming from ear to ear. "Thank you."
"Don't know why you're thanking me," she hums sweetly as she arranges the flowers in the vase. A little lacklustre while they were still wrapped up, she manages to preen them to look far more beautiful. "You're paying."
"I'm- what?!" He whines, now, taking on the role of youngest son perfectly.
She's just joking, and you all know it - but you also know Jeongguk will likely try and cover the bill regardless. Glancing over to you with a cheeky grin, his mum playfully shrugs her shoulders. You return the smile, and giggle a little harder when Jeongguk continues to whine.
"Oh hush your moaning," she simply says. "Go take your bags through to your rooms. We'll head out in half an hour."
Jeongguk doesn't protest. Drags you along with him back to the entry hall to retrieve the bags.
"See," he says quietly, finding your shyness all rather curious. You're never normally like this. Never so quiet. "Told you there was nothing to worry about. Mum always likes my friends."
Picking up your bag to hoist it over your shoulder, you simply say, "Nerves are natural."
Jeongguk doesn't entirely disagree, but really thinks there's no need for you to feel this way.
"Yeah, if you're meeting, like, a girlfriend's parents," he says. "My parents are nothing to be scared of. Idiot."
"Doesn't matter if I'm not your girlfriend, Gguk. I still want them to like me," you remind him. "And let's be realistic here, parents aren't one for subtleties. You've brought a girl home and have hickies on your neck - I need to touch up the foundation, by the way. If they notice, they're gonna add two and two and get five."
"Well actually," he interjects. "They'll add two and two and get four. You are the girl who gave me them."
You laugh. He's got a point. "But I'm not your girlfriend ."
Yep , he thinks. Thanks for the reminder.
It's not like he even wants that. He knows that things are good as they are. Knows that any indication of things getting serious will likely make you run for the hills.
Things feel easy, now. He doesn't wanna do anything that will complicate it. Won't tell you how he's feeling, 'cause he knows the second it does, things will change.
He doesn't know if it would be for better or for worse, but he knows you. Knows his own lived experiences.
The mistakes made with Hayun have contorted his ability to go with his heart, because he knows the pain it can cause. Will take the nail-biting uncertainty of his feelings for you over the soul-crushing certainty of rejection any day of the week.
You're equally as shaped by your own experiences.
Once had a man who would declare his love for you on a Monday morning before his monthly business trip, only for him to spend the entire week in bed with a girl from the accounting department. You've no trust in words. No trust in anything, really, when it comes to matters of the heart. All you can trust is how you feel - but even that's a little more confusing than usual, these days.
"And thank God for that," Jeongguk teases, which seems to settle the woes within you. He tilts his head to the side and guides you up the hallway. "C'mon. I'll show you to your room."
He deliberately doesn't show you his own room. Will show you later, once he's had the chance to hide away most of the embarrassing stuff he hasn't touched since he was a teenager.
Instead, he leads you straight into his brother's old room, and winces.
"It's worse than I remembered."
Jeongmin's bedroom walls are coated in the Lotte Giants; like an oil slick on the surface of a road, or ice cream dripping down the side of a cone. Unsubtle, garish and impossible to ignore, the man is an interior decor menace.
Flags, shirts, commemorative posters, you name it; Jeongmin has it. You think he must have personally spent enough money to fund an entire season of the KBO.
It's a pretty inoffensive colour scheme - white, blue, red - but it's still an eyesore. The rest of the house is well-decorated. Tasteful. Roses do come with thorns, you consider. Maybe Jeongmin and Jeongguk's rooms qualify for that position.
"So your brother likes football?" You deadpan - although you're sure if there was a Lotte Giants branded football, you'd be able to find one in this room.
Jeongguk just shakes his head. Doesn't even dignify it with a proper response.
"It's a miracle he even managed to get girlfriends during high school. This shit is... I didn't recall there being so much."
Signed baseballs, bobbleheads, foam fingers. God. It's endless. Trading card binders, house slippers, even a rubber duck. It's overwhelming.
"What about now?" You ask of Jeongmin's passion. "Still obsessed?"
"Less so," Jeongguk shrugs. "Did call his dog Seagull, though."
The prospect of a dog being called Seagull has you bursting into laughter. You half think Jeongguk is joking - but quickly realise he isn't. For some reason, that only makes it even funnier.
"Will he be at dinner? Your brother?" You ask, setting your bag down on the freshly made bed. The scent of laundry detergent wafts up, and it reminds you of being back at Jeongguk's place in the city. You've never felt more at home in a stranger's bedroom.
"Why?" Jeongguk asks, narrowing his eyes, remembering what you had said earlier. "You're not allowe-"
"Oh give over," you laugh. "You know I won't."
You've never seen his brother, but already know Jeongguk must be the brother. The one that the girls go crazy over.
Then again, Jeongguk did say that his brother is a fuck boy. Perhaps he's just as handsome.
Impossible .
Thing is, Jeongguk doesn't know you won't go for his brother. You made threats earlier. Knows he ignited a fire in you the second he pulled the 'Daddy' stunt. Knows you're competitive. Regrets it a little bit now. Only has himself to blame.
"Anyway, piss off," you playfully tell him. "I wanna get changed."
Jeongguk doesn't care. Takes a seat by his brother's desk, instead. Smirks. Raises his brows in that promiscuous, boyish way that always disrupts the butterflies who peacefully rest in your diaphragm. "Okay. Get changed."
"Gguk," you deadpan. He's pushing his luck, and he knows it. Glances over to the door. It's ajar, but pushed shut enough to obscure any unwanted eyes. Just means he needs to keep his deep voice quiet.
"What?" He flirts. "Nothing I haven't seen before."
"Your mum is down the hallway!" You whisper-shriek. Sometimes you forget how much of a boy Jeongguk is, and then he pulls shit like this.
The worst part?
You love it when he's like this; all cheeky and brazen, audacious in his quest to get what he wants.
And when it's you that he wants? Oh, it gets you all hot under the collar. He has that effect on people, you think. It can't just be you.
"So?" He licks his lips. Rakes his eyes down your body. Looks fucking hungry - and to him, you look like a 5-course meal he'd gladly get on his knees and beg for. "She's not gonna come in."
His lips press down against one another, tightly. His lip ring does the thing. You whine.
"Gguk."
"Byeol." He teases. "It's not like you're getting naked. Not like we'd be doing anything. Seen you in your underwear so many times."
He'd like to know that he still can. Wants to know he hasn't fucked it all up by getting you a little vulnerable earlier.
"Maybe I am getting naked," you whisper back, feeling challenged now.
"Are you?"
"Should I?" You tease. He sits up a little straighter. Tries to be subtle as his hand drops between his legs, the heel of his palm pressing against himself. Fails. You know he's adjusting himself. Know that it means he's getting a little excited.
"Think if you need to, then you should," he simply replies. "Just a little revision of a bird, no? Nakedness ? It'd be good."
You don't need to get fully undressed. Not in the slightest - and you're not gonna.
In fact, Jeongguk isn't gonna see anything - but you're still gonna fuck with him a little first. He deserves it after this morning.
You turn away from him. Shrug the jacket off your shoulders. Toss it onto the bed. Open up your bag, and have a little dig around.
"I'm not sure what to wear," you hum, sounding a little defeated. It's intentional. Want him to think you're being genuine.
Turning to face him, you hold lingerie in either hand. Packed deliberately just to fuck with him. Had figured you'd wear it discreetly, letting him know as and when he deserved to know. Would use it to wind him up - and not to give him any satisfaction. He's right in thinking he's ignited a little competition in you.
Didn't realise you'd take him to war, instead.
He's not seen you in either of these. Has never really seen you in your 'nice' stuff. All of your underwear is nice to a certain extent, because you're intentional with your purchases. Like feeling good beneath even a pair of sweats.
However, Jeongguk has only ever been treated to matching sets.
After all, you've never tried to seduce him. He's your friend. You fuck each other, sure, but it's cause it's comfortable. Safe.
The lace in your hand is far too exciting for your established arrangement.
In your left hand is a lace bodysuit. Mesh panels make up the structure, but it's the ornate, hand-sewn lace that really makes it beautiful. The neckline is fairly high, so sometimes you get away with wearing it at a top on nights out. Been a while since you went that risque.
In your right hand, it's a classic black garter belt. Jeongguk has no idea what the fuck they're called, just knows he likes them.
He swallows. Licks his lips. Doesn't know where to focus his eyes. Barely realises he's gripping himself now. Is so fucking hard.
"Which is your favourite?" You ask, eyes innocent, voice nonchalant.
Jeongguk thinks he'll die if you wear either.
"Both are fine," he manages to say, eventually.
"Fine isn't good," you pout.
"Well what do you want me to say, B?" He whispers, clearly a little frustrated. Not with you. With himself . "That as soon as you put them on, I'll wanna take them off you? They're fuckin' hot. Both of them. Fuck ."
He tilts his head back. Whines a little. Moans. "Why do I do this to myself?"
"Think you might be a masochist," you giggle now, tossing the lingerie back down by your bag. Will save it for later. Poor boy is going through it. "You did this to yourself."
He looks at you with a huff and a frown that is far too sweet for the situation at hand.
"I'm stupid," he pouts. "Pea brain. You're the one with a big brain. You should tell me to stop doing pea brain things."
"You wouldn't listen to me even if I did," you smile fondly as you walk towards him - 'cause even if it looks like he's admitting defeat, you don't trust him yet. His cock is too hard to be making sensible choices.
Coming to a stop between his legs, you don't stop Jeongguk when his large hands stroke up the backs of your thighs. Your own hands are toying with his hair. It's all very amorous; affectionate despite the allure.
"You don't know that," he whispers, still. Cupping his strong jaw, you tilt his head upwards. Your hair is still up from earlier, and he regrets it now. Always loves it when your hair tumbles around his face. Likes being consumed by the entity of you. The scent of your shampoo, the softness of your well-conditioned hair. Heaven.
"You made a bad decision this morning," you remind him. "Would have done it even if I told you it was a bad decision."
Regretfully, Jeongguk thinks this is true. That instant gratification of his ' Daddy' stunt made it worth it.
Worth it at the time, at least.
He's not so sure, now.
Sinking to your knees, your hands stroke up his thighs. Jeongguk looks down at you, tongue wetting his lips. There's a change in his breathing. Anticipation.
"You know," you say quietly, making sure no sound travels at all. You're not looking to get kicked out of Jeongguk's house within an hour of being invited in. Looking directly at his hard crotch as your hands squeeze his thighs, you simper. "I really thought you were gonna take charge this morning. Thought you were gonna get me where you wanted me."
"Yeah?" he husks, pulling on his shirt, releasing it from the belt around his waist. Lifts it a little. Gets his abs out. Is doing shit he knows will make you salivate. One of your hands follows his encouragement and pushes up his chest. Hard beneath your warm hand, his body really is a gift from the gods.
"Yeah," you tease.
"What did you think, huh?" He says, his hand cupping your cheek to raise your gaze to his. It'd embarrass you, if it were anyone else; but for some reason, you don't mind worshipping Jeongguk unabashedly. Are on your knees like his body is your alter. Whisper words of sin like you're in a confessional. Pray that you'll never have to give this up. Religion is wasted on you, and Jeongguk is a false God, but you've never felt more holy than when you're committing cardinal sins with him. "Where was I gonna get you?"
Smiling in that coy way you so often do whenever he gets you a little vocal, your eyes rake back down his body.
"Right here," you shrug. Give him those eyes; the ones that make Jeongguk think he's seeing fucking stars. Smirk, before you say, "thought you were gonna get your cock in my mouth."
"Shit," he curses as you press down over the hard ridge in his pants. He's always so pleased to see you - especially like this. "You want that, huh? Wanna suck on it?"
Nodding, you bite on the lip, sin written in the constellations Jeongguk's gazing at. "Wanna make you feel good, Koo."
If Jeongguk doesn't get his cock in your mouth within the next minute, he's pretty sure he'll die. Has wanted it for weeks. Months . Wants you in any capacity he can get you, granted, but there are few things in life better than a good blow job. Good pussy, is, admittedly one of those things, but he already knows you have that. Thinks your mouth must be just as good.
His hands drop to his belt. Metal clangs as he races to get it undone. You let him. Don't stop. Watch on with sated pleasure as he hurries. Undoes his buttons, and then his zipper is down, too. His Calvins are on display. There's a teeny tiny damp mark showing through; evidence of how badly he wants you. "We don't have long. Be quick, B. Gonna nut so fuckin' fast."
Smirking, there's something so painfully endearing about how needy Jeongguk is as he untucks himself from his boxers. Thick and firm, his cock is just as pretty as it always is whenever he's desperate for you. The little bead of precum pooling at his tip is begging for your tongue, the freckle on his shaft deserving of a pretty little kiss.
And then you pull back. Look at his pretty, needy face and raise a brow. Poor baby .
"Said I wanna make you feel good," you smirk. "Not that I will."
You get to your feet. Walk away. Giggle to yourself as Jeongguk fucking whines as quietly as he can. Needs that door closed. Needs you to know that this balling is gonna kill him off. Head thrown back, cock in his hand, he's gonna fucking die .
"B," he growls a little, faux sobs echoing from his throat.
"What?" You smile. He looks like a fucking state, desire taking hold of the way he's staring you out, chest heaving a little bit. And then, to add insult to injury, you remember to 'address him properly'. "Something wrong, Daddy ?"
His face bunches up. Regret embeds itself into the lines on his face. He whines. "You're so mean, Disco Ball."
He's cute. Really fucking cute.
It makes you feel bad.
And fuck, you want him.
Seeing him like this gets you all sorts of fucked up - but he deserves it.
He watches you cautiously as you walk a little closer.
You crouch between his legs this time, instead of getting down on your knees. Replace his hand with yours. Have missed how it feels to have him in your grip.
Eyes on his, you watch as his chest begins to beat a little fast. His lips are ajar. Eyes forlorn, he's desperate . His cock twitches in your hand, so you tighten your fingers. A hushed moan lets you know he likes this. Likes every fucking thing about it.
Licking your lips, you position yourself a little better. Glance down. Think it's a miracle you haven't given him head yet. Have never wanted to choke on a cock more - cause what are friends for, if not that?
"I'm not mean," you whisper. You drag your wet tongue across the tiny slit that is fucking oozing for you. It takes everything in you not to give into what you want. "I'm so nice to you, Koo."
You've got a point to prove, though. Ease your grip. Stand. Replace the now empty space in your hand with his chin between your thumb and index finger, grasping onto it as you tilt him upwards.
You hold your tongue out, encouraging him to do the same - and without even a second fucking thought, he does it.
Eyes wide, Jeongguk wants this. Want you. Wants your tongue on his.
And what Jeongguk wants?
Well, eventually , he always gets it.
Your tongue swipes against his; traces of his own precum sinking onto his tongue, masking the taste of you.
He wants more.
Wants you to do it again. Wants to taste you. Wants you to sit on his lap, tongue in his mouth. Wants to be too fucking busy with his lips to remember how to breathe.
And, like always, he will get it - just not now.
Eventually, yes.
Immediately, no.
"You're gonna fuckin' kill me one day, B," he whines as you walk away from him again.
"Good," you smile, talking at full volume now. Playtime is over.
You do, however, take off your shirt, and let him watch. All he can see is your back, but even that drives him insane. He can't remember the last time he was this worked up without any indication of a release. He's been horny all fucking day.
Pulling a fresh shirt over your head, you're a little sad to see he's tucked himself away when you turn around again.
"Go get ready," you say fondly. "We don't have long."
Jeongguk is pouting. A crease between his brows, he looks hard done by.
" So mean."
His stroppy demeanour makes you laugh. It's so classically him. A Ggukism, if you ever did see one.
"That's what you get for making me call you Daddy," you say quietly. Find it funny how much of a baby he's being - and consider that maybe he's the one that is better suited to the nickname.
He whines again. Louder this time. You glance to the door. Make sure you're still without disturbance.
You want to call him baby.
Just because it works, and it's funny, and - fuck it - maybe it'd be nice.
But it would also be a step too far, you think.
"Shush," you say affectionately, not accenting your command with 'baby' like you really want to. Instead, you walk over to him and cover his mouth with your palm. "What if someone hears you whining, huh? I don't wanna have to tell your mum you've just been tasting your own cum in your brother's bedroom, do you?"
"You're so fucked up," he wails, feeling incredibly hard done by. He needs to learn how to resist you. Never wants to have to endure this again.
"We're so fucked up," you correct. "I wouldn't be so mean to anyone else - but you deserved it."
He can't even argue against it. He knows that this is a product of his own creation.
"Go, get yourself sorted out," you encourage him along. "We don't have long."
He nods. Sighs. Gets to his feet, and does his trousers back up. Is convinced he'll die before your trip to Busan finishes if this is the game you're playing.
Leaving you to get ready (and to let his raging boner die, even if he won't) Jeongguk returns within 15 minutes. He's nonchalant, as if what happened the last time he was in the room was simply a fragment of your own imagination.
You're sitting by the floor-length mirror (which is, of course, adorned in Lotte Giants memorabilia), doing your makeup. Hair claw-clipped now, Jeongguk is a little sad to see your space buns go, but understands why. You seem to be a little more demure than usual.
He nudges his knee against your back, gentle in how he touches you, your body swaying ever so slightly.
"Don't," you smile, pulling the liquid glitter away from your face. "I'll get it in my eye."
There's an innuendo to be made there, but Jeongguk knows better. Just smirks. Plonks himself down next to you; cross-legged, knees up, arms hugging around them. He looks like a condensed version of himself like this, sitting as close to you as he possibly can just so he can see himself in the mirror.
"Little disco ball," he says fondly, watching you dab the glitter onto the inner corners of your eyes. It's not something he often calls you these days, but there's something about hearing the name now that makes you smile.
"Strange, isn't it?" You muse. "This time last year I was just disco-ballin' in your club. Didn't even know your name."
He nods. Smiles. "And now you're in my brother's bedroom turning yourself into a disco ball."
"Funny little lives, we live," you muse fondly. How far you've both come. If it wasn't for the glitter, you don't think you'd recognise yourself.
"Would you have ever predicted it?" he asks. Knows he was intrigued by you from the very moment he first saw you. Has no idea what you thought of him. Wonders if you had 'what if' thoughts about him. Who he was. Who he could be. What you could become. "That you'd end up here?"
"Honestly? Sorta wanted to curl up and die after you found me in your living room."
The memories are a little hazy, but you still remember the look on Jeongguk's sleepy face in the early morning sun that was intruding on his living room at the time.
Jeongguk nods. Smiles. Remembers it far better than you do. "Yeah, wasn't your finest hour."
You turn to look at him, chin resting on your shoulder. There's a glow about you now that Jeongguk can't seem to get enough of. Wants to drink you in like purple starfuckers at 2am in the heat of full-capacity Dionysus nights.
"I mean, I don't know," you say with a small shrug. "How often do you become friends with your punters?"
"Not often," he admits. "How often do you become friends with your bartenders?"
You're coy as you smile. "Not often."
Not ever, actually.
Yeonjun doesn't count - you've never spent any time with him sober, even if you do always enjoy seeing him behind the bar. Even then, it doesn't compare to the way you seem to light up whenever Jeongguk is serving your drinks.
Jeongguk's the first. The only.
Taking the liquid glitter from your hands, Jeongguk scoots a little closer. Gets more product on the wand, and sets the tube down beside him. Pinches your chin between his index finger and thumb.
There's no opposition from you; just a silent acceptance of Jeongguk dictating your movements. Lips parting as he draws a little closer, there's apprehension to the way your eyes flicker between his own pair and his lips.
Jeongguk is pleased, but tries not to let it show. Fights his smile. Battles the inner voices telling him that kissing you would be a good idea.
Breath hitched as his dark eyes survey your face, you're regretful of the way your body responds to him. Friendship tainted by desire; a natural by-product of fucking someone you really care about, you think.
It's no secret that you adore each other, but doesn't everyone feel so fondly about their best friends?
He's slow as he dabs the end of the wand against your cheek, following around the curve of your eye socket. Jeongguk always thinks you look so pretty when you highlight yourself with glitter there. It catches the light so easily that he always notices it. Might have even been the first glitter of yours that he notices in the dreary lights of Dionysus, the hedonistic haze of neon lights and dark shadows creating the disco ball effect he likes so much.
"There," he says quietly as he finishes evening it out. "Pretty little star."
"Careful," you say back just as quietly. "You'll give me an ego."
"Just returning the favour," he jokes, screwing the wand back into the tube, his hands working quickly. "The Daddy thing really did a number on my ego this morning."
Rolling your sparkly eyes, you gently push him away.
"Fuck off, Jeon," you playfully reprimand him for mentioning it again, getting to your feet. Smoothing out your clothes as you check yourself over in the mirror, you're pleased to see that Jeongguk has applied your glitter just the way you like it. Dabbing it out slightly, your heart swells a little with how attentive he is.
Still sitting exactly where he was, Jeongguk strokes up the inside of your leg. It's all very innocent. Just touching you 'cause he likes the comfort that comes with it. You're in sheer tights, there's a softness to them that Jeongguk likes. He tries to forget the garter belt you were holding earlier. Doesn't think you'd wear it out for dinner with his parents.
He's right.
No matter how hot it might be working him up in public, you're not about to go and do it in front of his parents . You have some morals at least, even if Jeongguk does make you momentarily forget about them from time to time.
Reaching down, you scratch his hair a little, just behind his ear. Eyes closed, he leans into your touch like a little puppy dog. So docile and devoted. Cute.
"C'mon," you encourage him, but remain fixed in position. Head versus heart. Wanna stay right where you are in the cocoon of Jeongguk's family home with him, but know you have places to be. "Shouldn't keep your mum waiting."
He nods, head resting against your leg. Sighs. "Yeah. You're right. Let's go."
You offer him a hand up, of which he gladly takes. Checks himself over in the mirror. Is still wearing the outfit he drove in. Considered changing, but he's aware of the way the girls at the service station were ogling him earlier. Knows the outfit probably has something to do with it.
He doesn't mention the change of your outfit; the fact that you're wearing a white shirt too, now. It's tucked into a little black skirt, he's certain you're probably gonna wear those slightly worn out Converse of yours - and he intends on doing the exact same.
"C'mon, kids!" Jeongguk's mum calls up the corridor, echoing your thoughts about needing to leave.
It's nice, you think, to be grouped with Jeongguk in such a way. Makes you feel like this is the way it's always been. Doesn't matter if you're in your twenties, and Jeongguk's mum met you an hour ago. There's an acceptance of you; of your place in her son's life.
He glances over at you, scrunching his nose a little. Is a little awkward. Likes the idea of you being part of his life since childhood. Is sad it'll never be the case.
"You heard her. Let's go."
Ushering you back down the hallway, a hand on top of your shoulder, thumb rubbing the nape of your neck, there's a casual intimacy to the way Jeongguk always finds an excuse to touch you.
It's not scary, nor daunting in the way that you always deem intimacy to be, but it is something . Gets you feeling a little flustered. Has you wriggling out of his grip with a laugh, as if he was tickling you.
"Stop annoying the poor girl," his mother scolds fondly as you come into her line of vision, which just simply earns another protest from Jeongguk.
"She's the annoying one."
You scoff. "That's rich coming from you."
It's all in good humour, and his mother appreciates this. Likes seeing Jeongguk goof around, especially knowing how stressed he's been lately. Has barely called. Missed his father's birthday to study.
All she wants is for her children to live happy, fulfilled lives, and if there's one thing to be noted about Jeongguk's current demeanour, it's that he's undoubtedly happy.
Whether or not that has anything to do with you, she doesn't know - but she wasn't born yesterday. His desire to visit home is understandable after the pressure of his studies. He needs rest - and somehow, he factors you into that rest.
Of her two children, Jeongguk's always been the more introverted one. He needs his time to recharge. Would be the life and soul of the party at school, then come home and remain silent until dinner time.
For a few years, it bothered her. Thought that maybe Jeongguk was unhappy at home - but it was quite the opposite. It's his safe space.
And now he's bringing you into it.
"Is the room okay?" she asks you, knowing that the sheer amount of baseball memorabilia in Jeongmin's room is... a lot to take in. "Interior decoration was always more of Jeongguk's speciality. Had Jimin to give him pointers. Jeongmin... Well, he had an acquired taste... As you've probably already gathered."
Laughing a little, you nod. "It's grand. Thank you for letting me stay. I really appreciate it - and I grew up with a Lions-loving Dad. I'm used to it."
"Ohh," his mother winces, then addresses Jeongguk. "Keep this one away from Jeongmin."
You also turn behind you now, raising a brow. He's just rolling his eyes, a soft smile on his lips.
"Samsung Lions - and their fans - are the scum of the earth in Jeongmin's eyes," he explains, then looks over to his mum. "Is he coming to dinner? Do we need to sit them at opposite ends of the table?"
Shaking her head, she laughs. "No, he's got plans, apparently. I did tell him you were visiting, but you know what he's like."
Jeongguk just sort of accepts this answer. Nods. Shrugs his shoulders, as if it's to be expected. An air of disappointment clouds around Jeongguk, lips pursed, eyes stern.
He and his brother are cut from the same cloth, but have been sewn together with different stitches. For all their similarities, they have stark differences, too. This one has always been the most challenging for Jeongguk; how little his brother seems to care about maintaining a good relationship.
Jeongmin seems to think their status as brothers is enough to keep the bond strong. Doesn't seem to care about fostering an actual friendship with him.
It's part of the reason why Jeongguk is so reluctant to let go of friendships that no longer serve him. They're filling a void. He never wants to be the one who gives up. Doesn't wanna be the reason things fall apart.
"Alright," Jeongguk's mother smiles at you both. "Ready to go?"
It surprises you that she's the one driving to dinner instead of Jeongguk - but it makes sense, given the fact you and Jeongguk will stay in the area afterwards.
She insists that you sit up front, even if all forms of hierarchy would dictate that Jeongguk should be there instead. He doesn't complain. Sort of likes how you and his mum are ganging up on him like a little team.
When you arrive at the samgyeopsal place, his father is already waiting.
He's everything you expect him to be: funny, a little dramatic, and the spitting image of Jeongguk, just with a few more grey hairs and even deeper creases beneath his eyes. Introduces himself with as much gusto as a cartoon character; full of life and pleased to have another person to relay all of Minhyuk's misdemeanours to.
You learn more about the Busan Driving Range circuit than you ever could have predicted - specifically about Minhyuk, the legitimacy of his 'bargain' driver, and how Jeongguk's father is convinced he's been tampering with his balls.
Jeongguk chokes on his drink when his dad mentions that last point. Earns himself a talking to for thinking with such a dirty mind - but after a few drinks, his parents are giggling about it, too.
There's something incredibly easy about being around Jeongguk's parents. It's no wonder he's grown into the person he is.
You feel a little shy. Don't understand the in-jokes at first - but someone always explains them to you. Normally Jeongguk, but sometimes his mother. Never his father, 'cause he'll go on a twenty minute long tangent explaining the lore and the back story. They've learnt this the hard way.
Still, he's a dab hand when it comes to grilling the meat. Takes charge of it all. Plates his wife up first, always. You second, Jeongguk third, and then himself. Head of the house, he takes his place in the hierarchy seriously, but not at the expense of the ones he loves. Will make sure they're provided for first.
Jeongguk is much the same. In charge of refilling the soju and beer, he'll pour for his father first, then mother, then you. Puts the bottle down before he fills his own, which is when you step up and fill his glass. He'll nudge with you his knee beneath the table to make you wobble, but never enough to make you spill it.
Subscribing to drinking norms is something that you never really do with Jeongguk. He's a bartender, after all. Things are always a little unconventional. He's normally the one making you drinks and sorting himself out, too.
Something about this feels incredibly domesticated. Natural. Pleasant.
By the time dinner is done, Jeongguk's parents have to order a taxi. Had a little too much to drink- but you're bloody glad for it. Made it a lot easier for you.
"Your parents are fun," you beam, walking down the promenade of Gwangalli with Jeongguk. It's your favourite of all the busy beaches in the city, but you rarely ever get the chance to see it after dark. There'll be a drone show, soon. You've definitely never seen that. Can't wait for it.
"They sure are something," he laughs, a little embarrassed. They have big personalities, which he's glad of, but he knows they can be a bit much sometimes. "Dad drinks well, so we probably had a bit more than we should have done. Sorry."
Shaking your head, you don't mind in the slightest. Are at that giddy stage of drinking, where everything seems marvellous, and bad decisions cosplay as good choices.
"Are you forgetting how we met? I don't mind having one too many, Gguk."
"True," he agrees, checking the time on his phone. Still a good half an hour before the small show. It's just a free thing that the city council puts on every night, not a huge deal to him anymore, but he understands why people romanticise it. Knows that you have to see it.
Tugging on your hand, Jeongguk checks the road before he crosses, dragging you along with him.
"Hm?" You squeak, taken by surprise. A little tipsy, your reflexes aren't as fast as usual, just like tipsy Jeongguk isn't as good at voicing his thought processes as sober Jeongguk usually is.
"Photos," he simply states, leading you into a small retail unit that houses only photo booths.
It's the standard set-up: wall partitions between self-timer camera units, and curtains instead of doors to the small spaces. Each booth has a different colour background, adding to their own individual charms. The walls of the entryway are lined in discarded pictures; friendship groups, couples, first dates, anniversaries, birthdays. Life events, big and small. Moments of time captured to last forever.
Accessories and props are abundant in the entry area - hats, glasses, wigs, signs. Your favourites are always the headbands. Kitty ears, normally, though sometimes you branch out into bunny ears if you're feeling fancy.
There are five booths in total along the back wall, but one in particular grabs your attention: the one advertising Sanrio-themed frames instead of the standard solid colour outline.
"Oh my god," you gasp, and then it's Jeongguk's turn to squeak with confusion. You point to it. Specifically, to the My Melody and Kuromi figures by the bottom of the ad. "It's us."
He smiles. Doesn't really understand your hyper fixation. Agrees nonetheless. "It is us."
The pair of you goof around, picking props. Jeongguk learns that you find him in any sort of animal ears absolutely hilarious, but the second he puts on a yacht captain's hat?
"Take that off right this second," you tell him, voice stern, eyes wide.
He's bemused. Snorts a little. Teeth on show, he's dangerously pretty. So handsome and yet such a little shit. "Why? Like it?"
You turn your nose up. "Hate it."
"I know you're lying," he laughs. Tilts it down. "Is this getting you all hot, B?"
"I'm leaving," you say, because it's so much easier than saying yes.
Something about him in a white shirt, with that hat? White with a navy peak, gold embroidery on the sides? God, you see why the old money girlies like boatmen so much. Decide that you're never getting on a boat with Jeongguk if you want to retain your sanity.
He takes it off. You don't even realise it, but you pout.
"You're so confusing, Byeol," he says as he playfully puts it on your head - and then he's feeling all fucked up too.
Something about a captain's hat. Just really does the trick.
You've both had too much to drink. There's no reason for you both to be getting flustered because of a stupid hat and yet -
"I don't think we should ever touch hats again," Jeongguk says very quickly.
But then you put a pair of kitty ears on and he starts questioning whether or not furries are actually kinda onto something.
He furrows his brows. Picks up a pair of ears. Bunny ones. Black. They're satin and a little too sexy, he thinks, but he's gotta see himself in them.
And when he does?
He kinda gets why girls dress up like cute animals for fancy dress parties. Doesn't wanna blow his own trumpet - but shit. He does look cute.
"Oh my god, YES," you exclaim when you clock his new attire, and quite literally drag him to the booth. He gets no say in the matter, and honestly doesn't care. Is having too much fun with you to take any of this seriously.
You pick the Sanrio framed booth, because of course you do. Jeongguk pops his card in the slot, and lets you click through on the options that you want - 4cut, vertical frame. The classic style. Your favourite.
Turning to Jeongguk, you tweak his glasses a little. Can't decide if they look better hiked up, or further down his perfectly sloped nose.
All Jeongguk can think about is your nose, and much he wants to nudge his up against yours.
And so he does just that.
Doesn't give a fuck.
The camera flashes.
You're caught, forevermore, in your state of Jeongguk-induced hypnosis. The pictures will survive beyond you. Will be stored in boxes to be looked at once, maybe twice by future generations.
One day, no one will know the name of you nor the boy you're with. They won't know how the scent of his aftershave lingers, nor the way your soft exhale of air sounds as you smile. Your present will be lost to history, this photograph? Your legacy.
Nothing will be known of you, and yet this picture alone will tell them everything they need to know.
"We're gonna waste shots," you whisper. The booth takes six photos, but you'll only be allowed to choose four for the printed picture at the end.
The more to choose from, the better.
"So?" Jeongguk smirks. Holds your neck just beneath your jaw. Strokes across your cheek with his thumb. Looks at you with sparkly eyes and a boyish smile that is just begging to be kissed. "Don't you wanna see what it looks like when we kiss?"
"It's intimate," you remind him.
"Maybe - but it's also fun," he reminds you.
The camera flashes again. That's two shots wasted, now.
If you let this carry on, it'll be three, and then one of them will have to be used in the final print.
And yet as Jeongguk nudges against your nose a little deeper, you let him.
When his lips ghost yours, you let him.
When his lips press down, you let him.
You'll let the third photo be taken, because you'll be too busy kissing him back to pay attention.
The fourth, too.
Lips on yours, Jeongguk kisses you in a way that he hasn't done before. It's delicate, and gentle, but his lips are strong. Intentional. There's no intrusion of tongue, no fervent need to get you moaning, even though it feels like you will regardless.
Your brain screams at you. Something about rules, and breaking them.
You ignore it.
'Cause all you can think about is the way this feels.
You don't think you've ever had a kiss like it.
And it's terrifying.
It's not until the fifth shot flashes that you both pull away; smiles smitten, eyes glossy. Both of you felt that. Ain't no way he couldn't have.
You think that maybe that's even more terrifying.
And so for the sixth shot?
Both of you pretend to throw up, disgust plaguing your giggly smiles and blushed cheeks.
There's distance between you, but as soon as the camera flashes, Jeongguk is pulling you back to his side again. It's just so that you're both ready to look through the pictures that are about to pop up on the little touchscreen. He's being helpful. Glances down at you, and has to stop himself from pressing a kiss into your hair.
Things are just so easy with you.
As soon as the pictures load, you're laughing. "We have to retake these."
"No, no, no," he swats your hand away, then taps on one of the photos, adding it to the preview frame. "My jaw looks really good in this one."
It's shot number four. Mid kiss. His hands on your cheeks, yours out of frame because they were on his waist. His jaw really does look fantastic - but it's sort of devastating when you realise just how happy he looks. He's smiling into the kiss. The most devastating thing of all?
So are you.
"How is that even us," you giggle. Seems so bizarre to see yourself like this.
"Gross isn't it," he smiles, adding more of the pictures to the frame, but you're the one correcting him now, tapping his hand to move him out of your way.
"We need them in order," you say. "A chain of events."
Eventually, the order is settled: the nudging of noses, the innocence of a kiss with the sin of Jeongguk's sharp jaw, the slightly startled look in both of your eyes as you'd pulled away, and then, of course, both of you pretending to vomit.
As they print, you pick out props for the next set of photos - Jeongguk in a pair of purple heart-shaped glasses and a Kuromi headband, you in that damn sailor's hat - and discuss which poses to actually do. This time round, it's all peace signs and finger hearts; goofy angles too close to the camera and a little laughter to set the tone.
"C'mon," Jeongguk says softly as you finish sliding the pictures into the thin plastic sleeves next to the booths. He normally doesn't bother with them. Likes that you seem to care about preserving the integrity of your memories. Hand outstretched, he encourages you to take it.
"Your bird," he says. "Said we'd do it in Busan."
The look you give him is coy, eyes a little sultry, lips a little pouty.
When you're silent, Jeongguk laughs. "Hold my hand, B."
"Getting a little date-like, don't you think?" You say of the night, but Jeongguk just shrugs.
"So? We'll just call it practise."
"Mhhm," he nods, shaking his hand a little because you still haven't held it. He's impatient. It's only as you take his hand that he begins talking again. "You don't wanna go back into the dating world unprepared. What if Mr Mechanical Engineer tries to hold your hand without you being ready for it?" He squeezes your hand, leading you out the door. "Let's get you used to it."
The mention of Seojoon makes you feel guilty. About him? About Jeongguk? You're not sure. It's something you need to figure out. Something you need to figure out fast .
And yet as Jeongguk holds both yours and his shoes in one hand, your hand firmly secured in the other, you choose not to think about it.
Just think of the sand, and how it will be a bitch to get out of your tights. It's sort of like your glitter, in a way.
But just like Jeongguk wouldn't trade your glitter for anything, you wouldn't trade this moment for anything either.
Neither of you say much. Just listen to the waves rolling in. Listen to other people's conversations. Listen to the whir of the drones as they start up and get into position. The show begins. Won't last longer than ten minutes. The silence is comfortable.
He holds your hand, and you move them to your lap in a bid to keep them warm.
Jeongguk isn't really feeling the cold. His heart is simply burning too brightly.
"I'm really glad you're here," he says as the show draws to a close.
"Me too," you whisper back fondly. "It must be nice to be home."
"Well, you know they say," he muses. "Home is where the heart is, and all that."
Been at home for months, B.
You breathe through your nose, exhaling a sincere smile. Could say a million things. Could say nothing at all. Could ask what he means, but you're taking it at face value. Genuinely think he's just happy to be home.
"We should visit more often," you suggest.
"I'd like that," he nods as he squeezes your hand. "You wanna go explore the night markets?"
Grinning, you get to your feet immediately. "Thought you'd never ask."
Jeongguk leads the way. Shows you his old haunts. Gets you hotteok from his favourite stand down by the promenade. Shows you the arcade machine he once spunked away 50,000 won on and didn't even win a prize. Shows you the initials he and Jimin caved into a pavement curb fourteen years ago. Took them hours. Both got blisters. Worth it though. They're embedded in the city, forevermore.
He takes you down memory lane, and you find it's your favourite street to visit with Jeongguk. You love his history; learning what shaped him. Who shaped him. Where.
Not once does Jeongguk let go of your hand.
Not down the markets, not along the beach, not in the taxi home, even when he doses off for a moment, head resting on your shoulder.
Not once. Not until you're both home, and he's saying goodnight outside of his brother's bedroom door. He's still toying with your fingers. Isn't even gonna suggest the idea of doing things you know you shouldn't.
Doesn't wanna taint the night.
In the morning, he'll blame all of his bad decisions on the alcohol. Will say he was tipsy, even though you stopped drinking hours ago.
He hugs you goodnight. Lingers a little too long. Too close. Nudges his nose against yours. Brushes his thumb against your cheek.
"This..." he whispers. "This is what it should be like."
His jaw tenses. He holds himself back from pressing his lips against yours like he so desperately wants to. Knows he's already said too much. Pulls himself away from you, to press a kiss against your forehead.
His lip ring is so hard, and his lips so soft, that it makes you feel all sorts of fucked up.
The most fucked up thing of all?
How badly you want his lips on yours.
But then he fucking walks away .
Closes his door. Shuts you out.
The evening had been so simple. So straightforward. Casual. Nothing confusing in the slightest. You were happy. So was he.
And yet as you lie in bed, all that rattles around in your head for hours on end is the question: what the fuck is happening to us?
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liightsout · 5 hours
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guilty as sin? - daniel ricciardo x reader
(part two)
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﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
✯ pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader ✯
✯ word count: 5.5k ✯
✯ content warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, abusive/unhealthy relationship, thoughts of cheating, sexual themes, toxic parental relationship ✯
✯ now playing: guilty as sin? - taylor swift ✯
✯ masterlist ✯
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
“I’m seeing visions, am I bad, or mad or wise?” 
For weeks after that night in Monaco you couldn’t shake Daniel Ricciardo from your mind, no matter how hard you had tried. You felt as though your every thought had been occupied by him. The way his skin felt against yours. The way his voice sounded when he said your name. The way his eyes lit up when he heard you laugh. You were obsessed. 
You felt exactly as you had all those years ago; yearning for a man you could not have. 
You had hoped that Evan’s attitude towards you might improve after his run in with Danny. It hadn’t, if anything, it had made him worse. He had interrogated you the entire car ride back to the hotel from the villa. It hadn’t taken him long at all to work out who Danny was. You imagined one of his friends must have told him after he’d gone storming back into the villa. 
He didn’t believe that you knew a famous Formula 1 driver. He had gotten shitty with you when you pointed out that you had told him that you knew some of the drivers through your friend Rosie. He rolled his eyes at that. He had always hated Rosie. She was too brash, too loud for his liking. You had thought that it was just that they were too different. It was easy to see now that he just preferred women to be quiet. 
You found yourself comparing everything he did to how you imagined Danny would if he were in the same situation. 
How would Danny have reacted if the tables were turned, if he was the one to find you conversing with a handsome stranger instead of waiting patiently for him to come find you. 
You quickly concluded that you would never have been in that situation with Danny. He never would have left you alone in a house of people you barely knew to go and drink with his friends.
You weren’t sure if comparing Evan to Danny was a wise decision, but you found it impossible to stop. 
“I keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault” 
You kept these thoughts to yourself, not that you had anyone to share them with anymore. Evan had quickly extradited you from all your friends early on in your relationship. Perhaps that was why you found such solace in your daydreams. 
Although, even if you did have someone to confide in, what would you say? How would you explain that you were longing for a man that wasn’t your boyfriend. That a man you had met a handful of times was occupying your every waking thought. 
It was best that those thoughts stay hidden away. 
“Someone told me, ‘there’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk” 
For what felt like the hundredth weekend in a row, Evan had gone away with his friends, leaving you home alone. Usually you didn’t mind all that much. The time away from Evan had felt like respite recently. But tonight you had felt the urge for something more. You didn’t want to be sitting at home alone on a Saturday night, drinking wine and watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy. 
You wanted a taste of your old life back. 
It felt scandalous leaving your apartment late at night to go to a bar. A hilarious thought when you considered the fact that you were an adult in your twenties and that realistically you could do whatever you wanted. The fact that Evan would be beyond annoyed at you if he ever found out where you were made the whole thing even more enticing. 
You found yourself in a dingy dive bar in the city, one that you used to frequent before you had started dating Evan. As you looked around at the sticky floor and walls covered in vintage tour posters you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. Evan would hate it here. 
You should have known all your old friends would be there. It was a warm summer's evening, the perfect weather for a drink in the beer garden out the back of the bar. It had been a tradition amongst your group for years. 
Rosie was the first one to see you. You had thought that she would ignore you. Not because she was unkind, you just couldn’t imagine that she would have any reason to want to talk with you. You had all but disappeared from her life two years ago. Swept up in a whirlwind romance that felt more important than your friends. 
How wrong you were; about both the relationship, and Rosie. 
The minute you felt her arms wrap around you in a welcoming embrace, you felt a wave of emotions rush over you. 
Danny had said she had missed you, you just hadn’t believed him. 
The pair of you spent the next few hours catching up. She told you all about her new job and the fancy new apartment she was renting. She showed you pictures of her brother and his new wife. They were expecting their first child and she was ecstatic about finally becoming the cool aunt, a stereotype that you knew would fit her perfectly. 
You had missed so much of her life. She had done so much in the few years you’d not spoken. You felt embarrassed by how little you had to share with her. Your life revolved around Evan and work. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself, not in the slightest. 
You didn’t need to tell Rosie how bad things were with Evan, she just knew. Girls were like that, you had found. They possess an inherent intuition to be able to read their friends and know exactly what’s wrong without a single word needing to pass their lips. No matter how much time has passed. 
It was Rosie who brought up Danny first. He had told her all about what had happened in Monaco. You weren’t sure what else he had told her, but after nearly a bottle of white wine you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from your lips. They had been pent up for years now, itching to break free. 
You told her everything. Starting with that night two years ago; you told her how badly you had wanted for more to happen, but didn’t want to cross any lines. 
You told her how you had waited for him to reach out to you, but that phone call had never come. The years you had spent thinking he was “the one who got away”. 
Ending with that night in Monaco when you had collided into each other. A cruel twist of fate sent to mock you for ever thinking Evan was the right man for you. 
“I just feel so bad for feeling this way about Danny… I know Evan’s not the greatest, but he doesn’t deserve this, surely?” you said to the girl sitting in front of you. 
The guilt was eating you alive. You’d always considered yourself an honest person. Fantasising about a man that wasn’t your boyfriend felt wrong. But if it was wrong, why did it feel so right?
“I need you to listen to me right now,” Rosie said as she grabbed your hand that was resting on the table. You looked up and met her eyes. 
“Evan, is an asshole. He has kept you locked away in that penthouse for too long now, and you have lost sight of who you are and what you want. I’m not saying that Danny is the love of your life, but if he is your way out of this prison cell you’re locked in, fucking go for it!” 
You were at a loss for words. Rosie was a good friend of Danny’s. She would know if these feelings you had were one sided. Surely she wouldn’t encourage you if she thought you’d end up heart broken chasing an impossible dream. 
“Babe, all I’m saying is, don’t beat yourself up for imagining a better life for yourself. There’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.” 
“These fatal fantasies, giving way to laboured breath, taking all of me. We’ve already done it in my head” 
You could feel his hands against your skin. His fingertips were setting your body alight wherever they touched. You wanted more, needed more. 
A fire was starting within you that you hadn’t felt in years. 
His rough facial hair scratched against the delicate skin of your neck as he left soft kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. The softness of the kisses was a stark comparison to the sinful thoughts swirling round in your brain. 
“Good girl” he whispered to you as he pushed your thighs further apart. The praise sounded like liquid gold pouring from his lips. The teasing glint in his eye matched the smirk on his lips. It was a look you’d not seen on him before. 
 You knew you’d do anything he asked if it meant you got to see him like this again. 
The fantasy was pulled from you before your mind could wonder any further.
The sound of your morning alarm woke you from the most beautiful dreamland you’d ever experienced. 
You’d never had a dream like that before. Should you feel ashamed of yourself? Normal people didn’t fantasise about men that weren’t their boyfriends in their dreams. 
You did not feel ashamed, not in the slightest. 
You could never feel ashamed for feeling any kind of way about Danny. 
“If it’s make believe, why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow?” 
It had been a regular occurrence that you would find yourself dreaming of Danny; both when you were awake and now when you were asleep. 
He was your escape. 
You dreamt of your life together. You imagined weekends at the ranch in Australia. You’d tend to the animals together. Then he would venture off to ride quad bikes around the land, messing about with his closest friends and family. 
You’d sit by the pool, soaking up the beautiful Australian sun, happy to watch him thriving in the company of his loved ones. 
You both had dreams of a big family, marriage and kids would be a no brainer. If how he was with his niece and nephew was anything to go by, you just knew he would be the most incredible father. 
He would treat you the way you deserved to be treated; looked after and cared for. No apology gifts would be necessary, only regular bouquets of flowers he would buy for you “just because”. 
He’d hold your hand when you were nervous and ground you when you were anxious. You would laugh more than you had in your entire life, and every day would be a happy one. 
You didn’t know if Danny felt the same way about you. The realistic part of your brain told you that he didn’t. But you couldn’t help but feel that fate had brought the two of you together time and time again. 
Maybe he was the one who got away. But what if maybe, just maybe, he was the one. 
“What if he’s written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind?” 
Evan was mad. More than mad, he was pissed. 
You had told him a few weeks ago that you had rekindled your friendship with Rosie. You had made up a story about how you had bumped into each other at the supermarket, not wanting to explain how you’d taken yourself out alone to a bar on a Saturday night. 
He had believed your story, but couldn’t believe why you would want to be friends with a girl like Rosie. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from telling him that Rosie couldn’t comprehend why on earth you’d want to be with a guy like him. 
Rosie had called you earlier in the day and invited you to her house for a BBQ, she hosted them often during the summer and it was definitely something you had missed. She hadn’t explicitly said that Evan wasn’t invited. She didn’t need to, you knew she didn’t want him in her house. It didn’t matter, you didn’t want him there either. 
“But babe, I wanted to spend the night with you, I made plans for us, I booked a table at your favourite restaurant and everything,” Evan pleaded with you. You almost felt bad. Maybe this was his attempt at making more of an effort with you. Maybe seeing you with Danny had made him a little more appreciative of what he had. Maybe. 
“I’m sorry, Rosie invited me earlier and I said yes. I didn’t know you’d made plans or I wouldn’t have agreed to go. I can’t cancel now, it would be rude,” you said as you grabbed your bag from the hook by the front door. 
“I’ll be back tonight, it won’t be super late, Rosie has a flight in the morning so she wants everyone out by 10PM” you said as a parting farewell. 
You didn’t need to see his face to know he was pissed off. The scoff followed by the swear words muttered under his breath were enough of a tell tale sign. 
“Whatever, I’m going out with the guys so I won’t be able to pick you up,” he said as he stormed out of sight. 
You flinched as you heard the bedroom door slam shut. You knew he was trying to make you feel bad for going out. He wanted you to put down your bag and go running after him. He wanted you on your hands and knees apologising for upsetting him and promising you’d do anything to make it up to him. 
It was an easy decision. Without so much of a second thought, you were out the door and on your way to Rosie’s. 
The second you had arrived at her house you knew you’d made the right choice. You were welcomed with open arms by all your old friends. It was like you hadn’t been missing from their lives for the better part of two years. You fell back into the motions easier than you had expected. The several glasses of wine had helped. 
The night had been fairly overwhelming in that respect. As much as you had missed the company of friends, it had been a while since you had been social around this many people for this amount of time. 
It was later in the evening and everyone had decided to move inside to get away from the cool chill in the air. You had opted to stay outside for a little longer than everyone else, needing a moment alone to decompress. 
“We have got to stop meeting like this,” you heard whispered into your ear. His voice sent shivers down your spine. His deep, alluring drawl was as sweet as honey. 
As you slowly turned, your eyes were met with the very same ones that had been haunting your dreams for weeks. 
“I’m just glad I didn’t spill my wine all over myself this time,” you said, earning a laugh from him in response. 
Daniel Ricciardo’s laugh was one you would recognise anywhere and you never wanted to forget exactly how it sounded. 
“I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble with Eric,” the Aussie said with a chuckle. Despite the laugh you could tell his concern was sincere by the way his hand reached out for yours, just as he had done that night in Monaco. 
Your hands didn’t touch this time. Before he got too close, he pulled away. You wished that he hadn’t. You longed for his skin against yours, even if it was the most innocent of touches. 
“It’s Evan, and he was fine. He gets that way when he’s had a drink. Nothing I can’t handle. He’s all bark and no bite,” you replied with a smile. 
You didn’t want him to worry. Evan wasn’t abusive, not physically at least. You could handle his mean words and shitty comments. It hurt when it first started, but by now you were used to it. It was easy to block out once you realised there was a part of you that didn’t care what he thought of you. 
Danny didn’t reply to that, just looked at you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. His face was a mixture of annoyed and confused. 
He was the joker of the group, the one everyone looked to for a laugh. Yet here he was, lost for words and looking like he was about to get in his car, drive to the other side of London and punch your boyfriend in the face. 
It was kind of hot. 
The pair of you stayed outside for about an hour after that, catching up even more than you had done a few weeks prior. You hadn’t had a chance to speak to Danny about his career last time, but you were keen to catch up with him about everything that had happened over the last few years. 
When you’d seen him all those years ago he had just left Renault for Mclaren. You remembered that he was nervous of the change and scared about what it would mean for his career. You didn’t know him well at the time, but you told him you were proud of him for making such a bold change and regardless of what happened. 
Two years later he was no longer with Mclaren. You weren’t a huge F1 fan but you’d kept track of Danny’s career. You had seen all the drama unfold and were disgusted at the way Mclaren had treated him. He deserved better. You were glad he was back in the Red Bull family. He seemed happier, more at peace with himself. 
You were forced inside to join the rest of the group by Rosie. She had stomped into the garden declaring the pair of you must join in the drinking games that were going on inside. Danny had reminded her that he wasn’t drinking as he had to be up in the morning for an early flight. The same flight that she was getting on, he had added with a smirk as he watched her down another shot of tequila. 
You didn’t hesitate when Danny offered you a lift home. He had asked you how you had planned on getting home as the pair of you had walked out of Rosie’s house and onto the dark street. He’d been outraged when you told him you were planning on walking to the station down the road and getting the tube back home. 
“Is Evan not picking you up? Or made sure you at least got a taxi home?” he had asked you. He had that look on his face again. You hated that he was annoyed, but you couldn’t help but feel so incredibly lucky that he cared enough to even be annoyed about your neglectful boyfriend. 
You hated feeling embarrassed about your relationship. You were surprised that it had been the hardest part about reconnecting with your old friends. 
It was easy to handle the disappointment you felt about Evan’s behaviour when you were the only one who knew about it. Having your friends look at you with sad looks on their faces and offer you reassuring smiles when you told them something else Evan had done wrong was hard to take. You knew they all thought you were a fool for staying with him as long as you had, they were just too kind to say it. 
“He wasn’t too happy about me coming here tonight, plus he’s gone out with his friends I think… it’s not the end of the world, he’ll be over it by tomorrow,” you said, forcing a smile to your face. You weren’t sure why you were making excuses for him. Old habits die hard. 
“Get in the car, I’m taking you home,” Danny said with a stern look on his face. You weren’t going to argue with him. You would much prefer a lift home as opposed to getting public transport, it was safer and way less hassle. 
Plus you really weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to spend a little extra time in the presence of the man who made your heart beat a little faster. 
The first couple minutes of the car journey was filled with absolute silence. You focused hard to try and maintain your breathing. The air in the car was stuffy waiting for the air conditioning to fully kick in. Your palms felt sweaty, dripping with anticipation. You weren’t sure why being around Danny had that effect on you. You were on edge, waiting for something to happen. 
The rational side of your brain reminded you that it never would. Danny wouldn’t make a move on you, not while you were still with Evan. You wouldn’t want to put him in that position either, it wouldn’t be fair. 
The rest of the ride was filled with you directing Danny to your address. Each road that took you closer to home, the closer you felt to exploding. You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell Danny exactly how you felt; to tell him all the thoughts you had bubbling up inside of you that you desperately needed to share with him. You wanted to know if he felt the same. If he thought these things about you too. 
As you gave the final direction you knew the opportunity was drifting further and further away from you. Danny pulled up alongside your apartment building and cut the engine to the car. 
He angled his body so that he was now facing you. Your brain willed you to turn and look at him, but your bones felt heavy, like they were made of lead. 
You hadn’t noticed him moving beside you, too wrapped up in your own thoughts. Danny’s hand gripping your thigh sent you hurtling down from the anxiety spiral you found yourself in. 
You turned your head slowly, your eyes meeting his for the first time since you had gotten into the passenger seat of his car. 
Danny didn’t move his hand like you had thought he might. If anything it felt as though his grip had tightened as your eyes locked with his. A mental connection between you made the physical one stronger. 
“The second you break up with that fuck head, call me.” 
Danny’s voice was deep and full of something that you’d never heard before. Not from him, not from anyone. Was it lust, anger, want, need? 
His eyes were dark and wild. The usual bright expression was wiped from his face and replaced with one that was much more intense. 
No one had ever looked at you the way he had; like you were the finest trophy he had ever been denied. 
It felt as though his grip on your thigh had remained. Even as you exited the car and made the ascent up the steps towards your apartment, you could still feel his vice like grip on your skin.
You went about your usual routine once you had gotten yourself inside the apartment. 
You lay in bed that night and waited for the sounds of your boyfriend arriving home, it never came. 
The feeling of Danny’s hand on your thigh remained, like a phantom touch. You could feel the rough pads of his fingers against you. It felt as though he had traced the word mine into the delicate flesh and it would remain there for the rest of your life.
“One slip and falling back into a hedge maze, oh what a way to die” 
Your nights were filled with anxious dreaming. The words Danny had spoken to you in the car echoed round in your mind. He had confirmed it. He wanted you too. 
There was an amount of you that considered whether you had imagined what he had said. Had you simply gone mad and hallucinated the whole interaction? 
You hadn’t. You knew that even in your wildest imagination you could never have invented the way his touch made you feel. 
“I keep recalling things we never did, messy top lip kiss, how I long for our tryst” 
You’d been distant from Evan for the past few days. You’d thought he wouldn’t notice, he never had before. But this time he had. Somewhere between the run in with Danny and the rekindling of your friendship with Rosie, he had become suspicious. 
“Are you cheating on me?” Evan’s voice rang out around the apartment. He hadn’t shouted it at you, but compared to the deafening silence that had been suffocating the pair of you, it felt like he had. Maybe it was the gravity of the words that had made them seem louder. 
You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from your stomach and past your lips. You regretted it as soon as it happened. 
“I don’t know what part of this is funny?” he said with a viscous look on his face. You’d never seen him so enraged. His face was twisted with anger, his skin flushed. 
“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing because it’s funny… it’s just, how on earth could you possibly think that I’m cheating on you? I don’t have a life Evan. I don’t have anyone to cheat on you with. My life revolves around you and when you deem me worthy of your attention. I should be asking you if you’re cheating on me, no?” you said with a shaky breath. 
You couldn’t recall the rest of the conversation. Harsh comments and vile accusations had been thrown at you like daggers. You didn’t have the energy to fight back. No matter what you said he wouldn’t believe you. The argument had ended with him slamming the bedroom door and telling you to sleep on the sofa. 
As you lay there you couldn’t help but be angry.
You were Angry at Evan for treating you the way he did. If he thought so little of you, thought you were so beneath him, why didn’t he just end it? 
You were angry at yourself for staying with him. You clearly weren’t happy. You hadn’t been for months. Your relationship had been on a downward spiral for some time and you had done nothing about it. 
You were angry that, despite Evan’s allegation against you being factually incorrect, it did have a base of truth to it. No, you had not cheated on him. But you had been fantasising about a man that wasn’t him. You had been longing for someone that wasn’t him. 
You were angry at the whole mess you found yourself in. 
Evan believed you had been cheating on him. If that was true, he was a hypocrite. You knew he had cheated on you multiple times. Lipstick stains on shirt collars and late night texts from numbers not saved in his contacts told you as much. 
You were angry that you had shown him a courtesy that he had not shown you. It would have been so easy for you and Danny to have crossed a line and ventured into the realms of ‘more than friends’, but you never had. 
Your mind wandered to your escape, the place you found yourself more often than not these days. 
A messy top lip kiss. Wandering hands. Nails dragging against skin. Stifled sighs. 
A tryst that you longed for. 
“My bed sheets are ablaze, I’ve screamed his name. Building up like waves, crashing over my grave” 
A firm hand gripped your shoulder as you were shaken away from your slumber. Your eyes squinted open as they adjusted to the light that was now pouring through the windows. 
You had slept on the sofa last night, after the fight with Evan. 
Evan. He was looking at you with a face of thunder. You thought that he would have calmed down by now. You were clearly wrong. 
“Are you fucking kidding me? Danny? Daniel fucking Ricciardo? That’s who you’re cheating on me with?” he spat at you. 
“Well done babe, I didn’t think you had it in you, a Formula 1 driver,” Evan said, every word dripped with venom as he mockingly clapped his hands. 
You didn’t have a chance to ask him what he was talking about before he continued. 
“You know, all my friends told me you were a gold digger when we got together, but I chose not to believe them. You didn’t strike me as someone chasing after money and fame, yet here you are, sleeping around with whatever man has the biggest paycheck. The jokes on you, he’s  washed and I’ll always be richer than him” he shouted as he walked away from you. He picked his keys up from the kitchen island with such force you were sure they had left a scratch against the marble. 
“Evan, I don’t understand-” he cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. 
“Here’s a tip, if you’re going to have dirty fucking dreams about your secret love affair, try not to moan his name while your boyfriend is in the room next to you.” 
You couldn’t argue back. He wasn’t wrong. 
“What if I roll the stone away? They’re gonna crucify me anyway. What if the way you hold me, is actually what’s holy? If long suffering propriety is what they want from me, they don’t know how you’ve haunted me so stunningly” 
A phone call with your mother was not what you needed right now. Evan hadn’t come back since he’d confronted you that morning. 
You’d spent the rest of the day anxiously pacing around the house. You’d cleaned every surface, tidied every shelf. You were about to hoover for the second time when your phone rang. You’d expected it to be Evan and had not checked the caller ID. You were caught off guard by the shrill tone of your mother’s voice on the other end of the line. 
You had a tense relationship with your parents. Your mother had never approved of much you had done in your life. The only choice you’d made that she had ever praised you for was your relationship with Evan. You knew she’d have more than a few things to say about the situation you found yourself in currently. 
“Darling, I got the strangest call today from Evan’s mother. She told me that you’ve been cheating on Evan. Tell me that’s not true dear.” 
Typical. Evan had gone crying to his mum, who had decided it was appropriate to air your dirty laundry with yours. 
“No mum, of course not. It’s a misunderstanding. He didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself,” you replied, unsure of how much you should disclose to her. 
“Just apologise. You cannot afford to lose him. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you. Don’t throw it all away now,” your mother said, the same tone in her voice as she did when you were a teenager. You had never argued with her back then, but you had done a lot of things recently you hadn’t done before. 
“It’s over mum. When Evan gets back I’m going to tell him that we’re done. I can’t be with him anymore. We don’t have a healthy relationship, it’s not fair on either of us. I don’t expect you to understand, but I hope you can respect what I’m saying.” 
“You’re right, I don’t understand. Why on earth would toss away a two year relationship with the a perfect man, all for a washed up athlete from Australia. Think of what people will say? Your name will be tarnished! I can’t even begin to think what your father is going to say about all of this, you’ll send him to an early grave!” her voice was like nails against a chalkboard. Each sentence rose an octave.  
You’d never hung up on your mother before, but you’d done a lot of things recently you hadn’t done before. 
“I choose you and me, religiously” 
It didn’t take as long as you thought it would to pack up your belongings. You truly had been living like a guest in Evan’s life. You wondered if he ever really wanted you there in the first place.
The gravity of the choice you were making weighed heavy on your shoulders. 
You knew you were throwing a lot away. 
A two year relationship with a wealthy man, who had a stable income and whose family name carried a lot of weight in certain circles. 
Your parents had already expressed that they would be disappointed in you for leaving him, your relationship with them would be even rockier than it was before. 
You had nowhere to live, no place to call your home and lay your head at night. 
Despite all that, you knew you’d pick Danny every time. 
You picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you landed on his name. You didn’t think much about what you were going to say to him, just pressed the dial button and listened to it ring. 
You took a sharp inhale of breath as you heard his voice on the other end of the line. 
“Hey pretty girl.” 
“Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?” 
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
✯ authors note: IT'S DONE! i am so sorry this took me so longer than i thought it would. i found out last week i am moving on wednesday and i only just started my new job, so my life has been VERY hectic!
i hope this is ok and you guys enjoy it, it took a lot out of me mentally. some difficult topics are mentioned and i hope i did them justice.
happy race day also!!! i had a good old cry earlier on watching charles win monaco, so so happy for him!
fresh out the slammer is next, not sure when it will be up, i think i'm gonna get some updates done for the blue first.
love you all and thank you again for all your support ✯
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Text
My Favourite Element
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"Which element am I?"
Satan asked you as his emerald eyes remained fixed on the page. Both of you were checking out books in the library, mostly for the potion masterclass study for your upcoming exam. That had been the intent earlier. Now, most of the books you had collected were random—how surprising it was to see the same books you'd expect to find on shelves in the human realm here in the Devildom.
The blonde demon tapped his fingers on the table, waiting for your answer. It was a bit of a foolish question: the navigation section of this particular Chemistry book had caught his attention. It posed a challenge from the authors to the readers: "Ask your friend what chemical element they think you are." While it seemed silly, it piqued Satan's curiosity.
"Huh," you, the human, pondered for a moment. You stopped whatever you were doing, carefully thinking about your answer.
Satan had his expectations. He thought it would be obvious: Gold, like the shining rays of daylight in a summer field. Gold, like a treasure you'd hoard and cherish for the rest of your life. Or perhaps you'd be more technical, like Carbon, describing him as carbon under immense pressure, a diamond in the rough. Perhaps you were on the 'cheesy' side of things, describing him as the air you breathe in the element of Oxygen.
Maybe you'd acknowledge his more demonic edge with something radioactive, like Uranium, Plutonium, or Radium. Whatever your choice, he expected a grand answer from you.
Though for the love of all of Devildom, please not Silver. Never choose Silver for his own sake.
You paused, considering all options before voicing out your thoughts like a genius, snapping your fingers. "Mercury!"
That caused Satan to lift his head from the book, raising a brow. "Mercury?"
You nodded. "Mercury! If you were an element, you'd be Mercury! You take the shape of whatever container you find yourself in, but you're still distinctively yourself! A shiny metal finish but also dangerous. It's captivating, why wouldn't it be you?"
"Huh." He had never thought of that. A small blush appeared on his face, closing his eyes while a tiny smile tugged his lips. "I like it."
You flashed a grin at your victory. As you continued with your task, Satan remained deep in thought about your answer. To think you'd describe him as mercury, while tugging at his heartstrings, was surreal. Were you always this effortless in your speech? He only snapped out of it when you asked him the question back:
"What about me?"
His gaze was intense, his breathe hitches for a moment. Again, he had never thought about that; though, he supposed it was his turn to return the favour. Satan wanted to perfectly capture the qualities that made him so enamored by you — then again, he thinks no simple element could do. Much like his love's the color of cinnabar, he will show you the true meaning of having good chemistry.
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Gonna go back to the exam grind after this ahhh;v; K baii <33
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blackjackkent · 1 day
Text
Another answer for one of @astreamofstars 's prompts from this ask for this ask meme: Kiss Roulette.
"33. A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking - Lae'zel/character of your choice"
Some context-less Shadowzel from Act 3 after the House of Grief, bc I haven't fully figured out how to include them in Rakha's playthrough yet. XD This is my first attempt at writing this pairing; hopefully it scans well! :D
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“Do you wish me to call you Jenevelle?”
Shadowheart peers out from her tent at Lae’zel sitting by the fire. “Why would you ask that?” she snaps irritably.
It’s not a fair response, and she knows it as soon as the words are out of her mouth. To her credit, Lae’zel doesn’t flinch from the moment’s sharpness, but answers in kind. “A thing true across all planes, I find, istik, is that most prefer to be called by their names.”
“It’s not my name. My name is Shadowheart.”
“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed.” Lae’zel looks over her shoulder to meet Shadowheart’s eyes. A slight pause. “I am not your enemy… Shadowheart.”
Shadowheart lets out a heavy breath and her head ducks. “No,” she says. “No, you aren’t.”
She should know better, really. They certainly began as enemies, but so much has changed. They have suffered so much together. They have stood side by side, watching their religions burn to cinders in front of them, and found each other amidst the ashes.
It was meaningless sex at first, half-desire and half-anger, driven by a need for some kind of nameless forgetful oblivion where they could forget that their worlds had fallen apart. Gradually, though, it has become more than that. She has been allowed to see gentleness in the gith, and Lae’zel has been allowed to see her vulnerability in turn - and both things have been hard-won knowledge indeed, secrets held between the two of them, shown to no one else. 
Zhak vo'n'ash duj, Lae’zel called her once in a moment of passion. She hasn’t explained what it means, but Shadowheart can guess the implications.
And here she is, lashing out yet again anyway, as if it were still their first few days on the road, when preemptive strikes felt like the only way to survive. Gods, she’s so scared. Gods… it hurts.
“I’m… sorry,” she mutters, hunching her shoulders - as if still in expectation of mocking after all these months. “That wasn’t fair.”
“Chk. You owe no apologies,” Lae’zel says - still curt but quieter. “I am no yank to be felled with a harsh word. And it is not the first I have had from you, nor will it be the last.” She turns back to the fire and prods carefully at the meat roasting there, turning it carefully. “Nor would I wish otherwise.”
Shadowheart finds herself mesmerized by watching the other woman's fingers, surprisingly dexterous in counterpoint to her battering-ram combat style. “Do you know your parents?” she asks abruptly. “Did you leave family behind, in Kliir?” 
“The yanki are raised together in creche.” With quick, efficient motions, Lae'zel pulls the meat from the fire and lays it out on a platter nearby. “A cadre of nestmates is our first and only family.” She frowns. “Still, I am not blind to what you have lost.”
Shadowheart nods silently. Lae'zel's experiences are so alien at times that it is hard to imagine the places where they overlap. But they are both alone in a world full of shadowy uncertainty. 
“You're all I have left, you know.” The words emerge in a sudden rush; she looks down at her hands, ashamed without knowing why. 
And then Lae'zel's hands close over hers, calloused and rough from a life of swordwork, but gentle in their touch on her skin. 
“I am not blind to that either,” she says, her voice low. “You will not be alone while I am here.” She considers for a moment before going on, “In creche we are taught ra'quith vlaak - the frail perish. To cover for another's weakness is to open your own flank.” Her eyes lift to meet Shadowheart's, intent and serious and sad. “Perhaps once I found wisdom in this, but no more. You shall find me guarding the scarred places in you, and you shall guard mine.”
Slowly, with scrupulous care, she lifts Shadowheart's hand and presses her lips over the heavy black scar, the last mark of Shar's torments, that lingers on her skin.
Blood rushes to Shadowheart's face. She feels acutely conscious of the fact that Lae'zel has never before showed her any gesture of warmth in view of the rest of the camp. And she can see the flicker of anxiety that goes through the gith's cat's-pupil eyes with the action. 
But Lae'zel has been afraid a long time. She has never let it drive her actions - never before and not now. 
And Shadowheart feels her own courage rise in answer to it. “Yes,” she agrees softly. “As long as you'll let me.”
“Chk,” Lae'zel mutters. “You speak as if you think such promises come with endings.”
Shadowheart doesn't answer for a long while. “I have suffered many broken ones,” she finally says softly. “But not from you.”
Lae'zel's eyes brighten, and she kisses Shadowheart again, this time cupping a palm to her cheek. Like all of their kisses, it is fierce and rough, commanding, unrelenting, but it carries certainty in it that Shadowheart desperately needs. “Nor shall you,” she murmurs. “Zhak vo'n'ash duj.”
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