#i’ve never been more desperate for anyone i fucking swear

[taegimood]

thinking of subby switch soobin getting fed up with being edged to outer space for the last 45 minutes, you calling him your big dumb bunny as he whines underneath you — “so much bigger than me and still can’t do anything but lay there and take it” — and in his desperation he decides he’s had enough.

flipping you over onto your back with a strength you should’ve expected him to possess, your thighs slung over his and your hips pressed down against the mattress as his giant hands grip tightly onto your waist, and without hesitation he’s pistoning in and out of you like a madman — making you squeal and moan at the sudden shift as you quickly grab onto the sheets to keep yourself from jolting up the bed from the force of his thrusts.

he’s panting and breathless and desperate; “still a dumb bunny? huh? still a big dumb bunny?” and you can’t even formulate a single response as you go slack-jawed from the way he’s completely rocking your shit.

fucking into you fast and deep, all messy and on the verge of letting go himself as he continues his breathless babbling, “dumb bunny fucking you so good, huh, can’t even speak? gonna make you cum? gonna cum on your big bunny’s cock even though he’s just so stupid?”

he’s now not only degrading you but degrading himself at this point, and all you can do is moan for him, gasping out his name as he takes you how he wants, fat cock bulging in your tummy as he cums hard, collapsing on top of you and filling you up for what feels like forever with his huge load as you clench and tremble around him in your own mind-numbing climax.

“soobin, what the- holy fuck.”

you’re panting, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief as your boyfriend’s large frame lays draped over you, his own heavy breaths hot against your neck.

he lifts his head tiredly with a sheepish smile; “sorry,” he breathes, but you know that he isn’t.

“soobin. i’m pretty sure that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done and i’d definitely be lying if i said i wasn’t still insanely turned on right now.”

and from the flicker in his eyes and the way his cock twitches inside you, you can tell that he doesn’t mind that one bit.

all i’m saying is that soobin sure seems to live up to the stigma around rabbits and how they breed like crazy ‘cause 😗

#i’ve never been more desperate for anyone i fucking swear #soobin just does it for me #mj’s hard thoughts #txt #txt x reader #txt hard thoughts #txt thoughts #txt smut #soobin #soobin x reader #soobin hard thoughts #soobin thoughts #soobin smut #taegimood

[touyasdoll]

Vulnerability

pairing: ex!Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: mildly angsty bc y'all broke up before, rough sex kinda, sex with feelings, y’all broke up and he’s back (surprise, surprise), unprotected sex, creampie, possessive gojo

notes: once Satoru is in love, he is in wholeheartedly. you are never getting rid of him <3

“Say it again, baby,” Satoru drawls, drunk in the pleasure that you’re providing as you glide up and down on his impressive length.

“I love you,” you whisper, just like old times as your hands rest on either side of his neck, keeping his ice blue gaze fixed on your face.

A lazy smile spreads across his handsome face as he guides your hips, his long fingers tightening around your flesh.

“I missed that. Missed you,” he whispers back, words that you’d never thought you’d hear. Not from this man.

It’s been months since he walked out that door. Since you told him to get the fuck out of your life and never come back. He was petrified of commitment and that wasn’t a secret to anyone who knew of your relationship well enough.

“I love you,” you say again, earning you a groan from a man beneath you.

“I love you too, gorgeous,” he replies, nearly stopping your steady rhythm, but the feel of his glorious cock keeps you going.

“Say it again,” you echo his words, desperate to hear those words after months of his denying you of the pleasure.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you, baby,” he breathes out. “I fucking mean it too,” he growls quietly.

His hands nearly bruise your hips, fingertips pressing into your skin when he starts holding you as tight as he wish he would have before. When he was too proud and too scared to just utter the words that roll off his tongue so easily now.

“I need you. I fucked up and I know it,” he pants, easily flipping the two of you over so that he lumbers over you.

He props himself up on one hand and catches your jaw in the other, using a firm but gentle grip to keep your half lidded eyes fixed on him as he keeps driving into you.

“You’re never gonna get rid of me, baby. I can’t imagine a life without you and I won’t. I won’t fucking do it,” he snarls, the sound a delicious noise reverberating between your two sweat slicked bodies.

“Satoru,” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I mean it. Your pussy feels fucking amazing choking my cock, but that isn’t why I’m saying this,” he promises, never missing a beat as his impressive length pummels your poor, abused pussy.

“Satoru!” You cry, hand wrapping around his wrist, your hand so small in comparison to his.

“That’s it. Keep crying for me. Keep saying my fucking name. You will only ever say my name when you feel this good. Do you understand me?”

You nod, staring up at him, fighting the need to screw your eyes shut and the pressure in the depths of your core threatens to snap and ignite your entire body on fire.

“Good,” he grits out, teeth clenched as he doubles down, railing his rock hard cock into you, rushing you towards your finish.

All you can do is hold the fuck on as he sends you flying, soaring up into the heavens as you howl his name. Only his name. The only one you ever wanted to leave your lips as you enter complete and total, all encompassing bliss.

“Fuck,” he sighs, a shiver rocking his body as every muscle in his imposing form tenses and he breaks with you.

He grunts, his body flexing right as something in him snaps and he continues bullying his dick into your pulsing walls. They hug him so tight he feels like he might black out.

For a moment, he swears he does. His hips cast forward on their own, forcing him impossibly deeper as his tip knocks against the deepest part of you, spilling his seed inside to claim you once and forever as his and his alone.

Both of you are lost in a haze, but nothing has ever been more clear to the man panting in your ear. He needs you. He cannot live without you and he’s only sorry that it took him so long to admit it.

That’s why he showed up at your door tonight. Begging for you to just let him in and hear him out. That’s how you ended up right here, desperately trying to suck air into your lungs while your nerves scream and sing in response to every little touch that he offers your overstimulated form.

“I love you,” he reaffirms, the words a soft whisper against your collarbone as he trails his lips across them.

“I love you too,” you whisper, still in disbelief that you’re able to add the little ‘too’ on the end of that sentence.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t say it before, but I’ve always felt it. I’ve always needed you,” he swears, collapsing beside you to bundle you into his arms.

His gentle lips pepper kisses across your scalp, your forehead, and your temple, slowly trialing across your face.

“I missed you. I mean that too, baby,” he says with more conviction than you’ve ever heard leave his lips, his voice shaking with emotion. “I will never leave you doubting that again. I swear. I fucking swear it.”

You’ve never seen him like this. Never heard his voice with anything other than pure, radiating confidence imbued within it. Now, his voice quakes. His tone is full of tremors and uncertainty, something that is foreign to the one who has always known himself as the strongest. Weakness had no place in his words.

But with you, he is weak and he knows it. He has always known it and just never spoken the words aloud, but if it means keeping you. Having you, he will gladly break down those walls to keep you within them. He will build them back up to keep you here with him forever. Where you belong.

“I love you. I was scared and I can say that now. I was too petrified then. Afraid that I’d lose you somehow, but I went and did that anyway and I would do anything not to do that again,” he whispers, his nose nudging against your cheek.

“I’m yours, baby,” you whisper back. “I have always been yours for the taking. I’m not going anywhere.”

Relief washes over him as he holds you tighter, his spindly fingers dragging across your spine.

“I won’t let you,” he vows, holding you close enough that you believe he’s trying to mold you directly into his body. Into his ribs.

Straight into his heart, which you have no doubts that you now know belongs solely to you.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a like, comment, or reblog and they are all greatly appreciated <3

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

[bluejeanstrash]

11/10

a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️

tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms

w/c: 2.3k

in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.

it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’

‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.

‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’

there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.

‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.

‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.

he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.

were you trying to tell him something?

seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.

so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.

‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.

‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.

‘oh? confident much?’

he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’

and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’

‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’

you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him. 

‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.

is this a challenge?

‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’

sounds like a challenge to him.

(12:40 am)

‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.

‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.

‘how many was that?’

‘f-fou-r’

‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.

‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’ 

‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’ 

seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.

right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms. 

after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.

he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.

it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.

‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.

40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.

you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.

‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.

‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’

subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.

you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.

‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.

you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.

‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.

‘f-five’ 

‘did you fake that one?’

you tell him you didn’t. you promise.

‘are you sure about that?’ 

‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’

‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.

‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open. 

‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.

drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.

‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’

he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.

‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another. 

‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.

‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers. 

after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.

‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.

‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.

as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm. 

he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm. 

‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers. 

‘look at yourself’ he commands.

you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.

‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.

‘what’s that dripping out of you?’

your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.

‘answer me’

‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.

but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again. 

‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.

‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you. 

‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.

he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.

in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.

you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.

‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.

‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.

maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.

‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.

you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.

he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.

‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out. 

‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.

‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.

‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.

‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.

‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’ 

‘you can’ and you will for him.

‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms. 

‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.

‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’

as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.

he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.

finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.

‘how many was that?’

‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.

he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.

‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.

‘yes! i did. i promise!’ 

did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.

#scoups smut #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol imagine #scoups imagine #scoups oneshot #seungcheol x you #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol drabble #scoups drabble #seungcheol oneshot #scoups fanfic

[sugrhigh]

HOTBOX - ( m.s )

part two

summary- matt finally decides to smoke with his best friends for the first time, and he finds that it’s impossible to keep his eyes off of you

warnings- drug use, swearing, tiny bit suggestive

bff!matt x fem!reader

a/n: WOOOO finally a real piece of writing! i hope u guys enjoy. will possibly do a part two but idk, so if you have requests just ask!

he can’t stop drumming his fingers against the wheel as he steers the car along, desperately trying to relax a little bit and focus on the music that’s blaring through the speakers.

chris sits beside him in the passenger seat, feet up on the dashboard as you guys speed toward your destination. he can hear you and nate conversing in the back, practically shouting at each other over the song.

the waterfront comes into view through his windshield a moment later, moonlight shimmering against the glassy surface. matt takes the next left, swerving across both lanes of traffic to pull into the deserted lot.

there’s nobody on the beach of course, considering it’s almost midnight in the middle of november. he throws the car into park and lowers the volume, shifting in his seat so he can actually see everyone.

“i think that’s the fastest i’ve ever seen you drive, grandpa.” you tease him, unbuckling so you can lean forward in your seat.

he rolls his eyes, though he never actually minds it when you’re the one chirping at him.

“you’re gonna wish it was me once nate gets behind the wheel, i promise.”

“wow, so i volunteer to stay sober and this is the thanks i get?” his friend asks, arms crossed over his chest defensively.

“thank you nate.” you reply in a sing-song voice.

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

matt watches as you claw through your bag, finally digging out a small blue pouch after a few more seconds of searching.

the moment you unzip it, the all-too familiar smell of weed fills the interior of the car. chris cheers when he sees you pull out a perfectly packed joint, holding it in between your middle and pointer finger with precision.

“you know, it’s really upsetting that you can roll better than me.” nate shakes his head with a sigh.

“aw, you gonna cry about it?” you puff your bottom lip out at him.

“i swear i’ll fucking walk home and leave you guys stranded.”

“sure you will. hold this.” you pass the joint to him before retrieving the lighter.

matt tries to play down the smile that’s beginning to take over his face as you hold it in your palm. he got that one for you on your last birthday. it’s a silver zippo lighter with a big winding dragon engraved on the side.

it was kind of a gag gift just because he knows how much you smoke, but you ended up genuinely loving it way more than he had ever expected.

chris smacks him in the arm gently, and he finally tears his eyes away from you.

“you sure you want to?” his brother double checks, though he doesn’t do a very good job of containing his obvious excitement.

“yup.” matt replies simply, his gaze darting in your direction again.

he’s never once felt pressured to smoke before, but he’s always been a little curious. he’s hung out with the three of you while you’re all stoned enough times to realize that he at least wants to try it.

and sure, maybe a tiny part of him is doing this because he wants to impress you. but what’s the harm in that?

“i’ll start her off, but then it’s coming your way matty b.” you nod at him with a smile, taking the joint back from nate.

his heart is already pounding and all you did was look at him.

you put the filter between your lips and spark his lighter, holding the flame to the end. he watches it burn as you inhale, trying to figure out exactly how he’s supposed to do this when it’s his turn.

you blow the smoke over your shoulder, careful not to do it in anyone’s face. no cough. matt doesn’t even see you flinch.

you take one more quick drag, and he’s already entranced by your fluid movements.

then you stretch your hand out, offering him the next hit as you silently exhale once again. it’s impossible for him to ignore the way he fumbles with your hand before he finally pinches it between his fingers.

it feels awkward, like he’s somehow already doing it wrong.

“just put your lips on it, suck in, not for long though because that’s real shit. then hold it in your throat, inhale it, exhale it.” you instruct him, and his mouth is already dry from the way you’re talking.

there’s something about the commanding edge to your voice that’s driving him crazy. he kind of likes that you’re the know-it-all, the one in control.

“sounds dirty, but you get the point.” chris states with a shrug.

yeah, sounds fucking dirty.

“you got this, don’t even think about it too much.” nate adds encouragingly.

matt bites the bullet, curling his lips around the end and inhaling. he definitely feels the smoke fill his lungs, so he pulls the joint away quickly and practically tosses it to chris.

“exhale, exhale.” you instruct, and he does so all at once.

it fogs up the car, smoke flying back up in his face instantly. then he feels it. the burning in his throat. the desperate need to cough.

he sputters, and chris is already motioning to one of the waters in the cup holder.

“keep holding your breath and drink that.”

he tries to do as he’s told, but it’s impossible to hold it in. he lets out a loud hacking cough. then another, and another. matt tries to sip on the water in between them, though it’s hard.

you rub his arm gently as the cough attack begins to die down, and the feeling of your fingernails scratching him lightly through his sweatshirt almost makes him shiver.

“i personally like a good cough everyone once in a while. humbles me.” you joke, removing your hand and sitting back in your seat once you’re sure he’s alright.

he misses your touch immediately, and it’s embarrassing.

chris has been keeping it lit, so he passes it back to you once you’re ready. matt is left out for a moment, and he doesn’t mind the brief break.

the music stays on in the background, a curated playlist of stuff that you all like. he sees you bopping your head along to baby keem, and you turn to him with the joint still burning between your lips.

“you want more?” you say as the smoke curls around your face.

in many ways.

matt nods and reaches to grab it from you, trying to be careful where he positions his fingers. he repeats his actions from earlier, breathing out slowly this time.

he still coughs quite a bit, but it’s not nearly as bad. the high is definitely rushing straight to his head, and it makes him feel like a balloon full of helium.

his brother guides the joint out of his hand gently. even he wheezes a bit as he takes his fair share, which makes matt feel better.

“how do you feel bro?” nathan asks him through the haze that’s filled the car.

“good. i feel good.” that’s all he can think to say.

and it is nice. everything seems just a little bit lighter. his body feels…loose. matt blinks, and he swears he sees stars behind his eyelids.

you reach up to open the sunroof, letting some fresh air into the car. there’s not a cloud in the sky tonight, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore calms him.

“one more baby hit, then you’re done.” you pass it to him for the last rotation.

“so bossy.” matt smirks at you, and there’s a humorous glint in your eyes as you watch him take a drag.

he tries impossibly hard to make it look cool, despite almost hacking up a lung and choking on his water. you laugh, but matt somehow understands that you’re not making fun of him by doing so.

chris snatches it from of his hand. “gimme that, it’s almost out.”

it’s like a game of ping pong as matt watches the two of you bounce back and forth, hit after hit. the joint dwindles and finally dies a minute later. you toss the burnt remains into a dunkin bag from god knows how long ago before slipping the lighter back into the pouch.

“alright, matt. time for you to switch with me big boy.” nathan reminds him, turning to open his car door.

matt follows his lead. his body feels like it’s three feet behind his brain, like his consciousness is just a few seconds faster. his legs wobble as his feet hit the ground, but he manages to steady himself, hand against the car as he moves.

nate walks him to the door just in case, and matt stumbles into his new home in the back, laughing at himself under his breath. you help him sit upright in the middle seat, reaching across his body to get to the belt.

“lift your arm.” you tell him, and even though he doesn’t want to, he listens.

you pull the buckle around and click it into place so he’s properly strapped in, doing it for him like he’s a toddler or something.

this is an action he’d normally protest, but he’s solely focused on how close together you are. he can feel the heat radiating from your body as your shoulder presses against his, knees knocking together as he gets comfortable.

“how are you doing? everything okay?” you ask lowly, looking up at him through those long lashes.

he can see the red tinging your eyes, and his own feel droopy as he continues to stare. matt just can’t help it. you look so gorgeous, somehow even more so when you’re both faded.

“cat got your tongue?” you joke, head tilted back to rest against the seat as nate puts the car in reverse.

“you’re pretty.” it slips out before he can stop it, and yet he’s too high to care.

your eyes go a little wide, and your lips part slightly as you suck in a breath. he wants to kiss you so bad, to get rid of the centimeters of space between you and just press his mouth to yours.

“and you’re stoned.” you smile a bit and look away, trying to play it off.

“but i’m serious.” he doubles down, and you glance at him once more with those fucking bambi eyes.

you shake your head and place your hand on his thigh. “i promise you’re not.”

it ignites a fire in his stomach, one that won’t die down. he wants to move his hips, to feel some sort of friction against your palm. but he holds still, even despite how much he needs you.

“you don't know me.” matt hears his words slur together slightly as he speaks.

“i definitely do.” you argue.

“fine, but you can’t possibly guess what’s going on in my head.”

matt’s still not sure where any of this is coming from, or why he’s saying it to you now, but the word vomit won’t stop.

you shrug, squeezing his thigh lightly. he shifts a little bit, trying not to get too worked up over the pressure.

“i guess that’s true. so what are you thinking?”

matt glances up front at his brother and his best friend, and he knows neither of them are paying attention to the two of you. they’re too busy singing piña colada by yung pinch to care.

he hears you hum a little bit of the chorus under your breath as you wait for his response.

“i’m thinking about you.” he finally admits, leaning over so he can say it directly into your ear.

he can smell your rose shampoo, the fading hints of flowery perfume on your skin. it’s intoxicating, being near you like this.

you move your hand off his leg to shove his chest playfully. “shut up.”

the city blurs by as nate continues to drive, and matt admires the way the light from the street lamps dance across your face.

“why don’t you believe me?” he mumbles, barely audible over the combination of the breeze and the music.

“because you’re high as a kite, i can see it written all over your face.”

“doesn’t mean i’m lying.”

you study his face like you’re trying to find the truth in it. he can’t help but grin, because you’re so fucking clueless, and it makes you smile right back.

“touché.”

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fanfic #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #youtube

[maximoff-pan]

steve and reader drabble about a secret relationship mayhaps? 😫

you know I can’t resist writing for this hunk of a man ;)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warning(s): some swears, being caught red handed 🤭

quick a/n: hi lovelies! sorry for being m.i.a recently. I’ve gone back to school and it’s been too busy for me to write anything. I apologize for this being rushed/incoherent, please forgive me….

part two

Fucking girls night…

Whatever possessed you to think this was a good idea, you’re not entirely sure. Honestly, you can’t even remember who convinced you to come; they’d all been begging you for weeks to finally show up to one of these things. And now that you’re here, you’re quickly realizing why you’d been so hesitant before.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this flustered or uncomfortable in your life, and that’s definitely saying something. Really saying something…

It’s not the fact that everyone here has a significant other that bothers you. It’s the fact that everyone here has a significant other, and they think you don’t. Because as far as they’re concerned, you’re as single as single can be.

Which would be fine if it was the truth. But it’s not. And the guilt is starting to eat at you. How many more times do they have to try and set you up before you break?

Quite frankly, at this rate, it feels like you’re almost there.

“What about Peter Wilson?”

Robin recoils at Nancy’s suggestion, picking her nails in disgust. “Absolutely not.”

You remain quiet. They’re trying to find you a boyfriend, again.

“What’s so bad about him?” Max inquires.

El adds, “He’s kind of cute.”

“Sure,” Robin scoffs, “If you’re into delusional sociopaths.”

Tilting her head, brow quirked, Nancy asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Robin’s pitch drops slightly. “Let’s just say, that incident where Stacy Mathers almost drowned last summer, wasn’t so much of an accident.”

Max’s eyes widen. “You mean he tried to–” she trails, too disturbed to even finish the sentence.

Robin nods. “That one’s as sadistic as they come.”

“Okay.” Nancy agrees, moving the conversation along. “So that’s a no on Peter.”

“Ooh.” El claps, eyes locking with Max. “What about Adam?”

“Adam Richards?”

Max and El nod together.

Your head has never whipped around faster. “You can’t be serious!”

Your voice catches Robin’s attention. “First of all,” she smirks, “welcome to the conversation! And second of all, what could possibly be wrong with him?” She knows exactly what’s wrong with him, she just wants to see you squirm.

“Rob, he’s fucking sixteen.”

“And?” Max joins in.

“I’m almost twenty.” You state. That should be reason enough, but as you glance between them, they don’t look convinced. The concern on your face is evident as you say, “I am not about to be some cradle robber!”

“But he’s like,” Max pauses adding on a valley girl accent, “the hottest Junior at Hawkin’s High.”

Your face scrunches in disgust, mimicking the accent back. “Fucking, ew.”

Nancy and El giggle at the interaction.

“Okay, so you’re not into younger guys then.” Robin teases, a sparkle of mischief in her stare. “Noted.”

These girls are going to drive you into madness…

“You know what else I’m not into?” The cadence of your voice carries with a hint of amusement. “My friends desperately trying to set me up because they think I’m pathetic and lonely.”

“But you are lonely.” Is El’s retort. Three pairs of eyes widen at the remark, but not yours. El’s bluntness has never surprised you. It’s actually pretty comforting, because you know she’d never lie to you.

Nancy hisses with a whine. “El.”

You’ve been around the Wheeler’s long enough to know that Nancy was raised to be a proper young lady, one who would never dare offend anyone. That alone causes your lip to quirk in bemusement.

You chuckle, feelings quite intact. “Oh good.” Your smile is cheeky. “At least you don’t think I’m pathetic.”

“She never said she didn’t.” Max points out with a grin.

“Hilarious Maxine.” You mock a sarcastic and melodic laugh.

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.” El cuts in before Max can say anything else. “I just think you need a boyfriend.”

You have half a mind to say ‘I’ve already got one,’ but you bite your tongue.

Just like you have for the last six months.

That’s half a year of trying so hard to keep your relationship status on the down low. Because things with Steve are new, and after many years of denying any feelings towards each other, you finally decided to go for it. But, on the off chance you both found that you were better off as friends, you came to the mutual decision that waiting to tell the kids (and everyone else) was the best idea. As much as you think they’d be happy to see you two together (and boy have they pushed for it), it’s not something you’d want to get their hopes up for.

You’re serious about Steve, more serious than you’ve ever been about anyone before. As much confidence as you hold in your love for him, you know he’s serious about you too. And maybe now that you’re certain (at least on your end) that you’re both sure, you can start to tell everyone about your relationship. For tonight though, you’re going to have to continue playing the role of the lonely single.

How tragic…your mind wanders.

“Oh my god!” Nancy’s interjection catches you off guard. She’s masking her smirk well, but you can still see it. “How could I not have thought of this?”

Her surprise feels more like it’s been planned, like she’s been thinking of a way to bring whatever she’s been thinking about into the conversation without rousing too much suspicion.

“Thought of what?” Robin asks, feeding into it.

Your eyes narrow.

Nancy leans over to whisper something into her ear. The chain continues with Robin leaning in to tell Max, and Max whispering it to El, leaving you thoroughly left out.

What is she planning?

“Uh, a little inclusion might be nice.” You tutt.

Four pairs of eyes bore into you, excited smiles resting on each of their faces.

Here it comes, you think.

“All this talk of boys…” Nancy starts. “What about Steve?” She asks.

And there it is. “Guys.” You groan. “Not this again.”

“C’mon (Y/n), please?” Max’s whine is on the verge of a full on beg. “I know you’ve thought about it. We all see the way you look at each other.”

“Like I do.” El’s matter-of-factness is not so comforting in this moment. “With Mike. And Max, with Lucas.”

“Oh!” Max exclaims. “Remember when Nancy and Jonathan first got together? They were really good friends, like you and Steve.”

You take a quick glance over to Nancy who’s now gone quiet, a pink blush covering the softness of her cheeks.

“Guys. Steve and I are just that,” you eye each of them with a deep intensity, “friends.”

Nancy remembers saying the exact same thing to Murray Bauman after he’d accused her and Jonathan of suppressing their feelings.

She hadn’t quite known then how strong she felt about him, as she does now. But as she glances in your direction, she reads an expression on your face that she wasn’t expecting: guilt.

You don’t exactly look like someone who’s freaking themselves out over their newly discovered — and to everyone else, totally obvious — feelings for their best friend like she had. Instead, you look like you’ve accepted them, and more so, if Nancy is as good at reading you as she thinks she is, you look like you’re hiding something.

“You’d be perfect together.” Is one of Max’s last attempts of the night at convincing you. She only wants to see you happy. Maybe if she just pushed a little more.

Your heart wrenches at her words.

You hate lying to them, you really do. You’re almost not sure why you’re doing it anymore, but you can’t seem to stop yourself.

God, you wish a black hole would suck you into the abyss. “Max, you know that’s not how it works. You can’t decide you’re going to be with someone just because you want to be. There’s a whole other person to consider.”

“Semantics.” She puffs a breath of air, waving you off. “And not if that other person is already head over heels in love with you.”

“Max.” You warn with the tilt of your head and an extremely deep breath.

Robin jumps in, lips pulled into a cheeky grin. “I’m not hearing a no.”

If that’s what it’ll take, you think, “Then no.” You finally say.

Robin catches your gaze, her eyes softening. All hints of teasing seem to be gone. There’s no way this can mean anything good.

“I know I don’t do this often,” she starts, “but I’m going to say something in all seriousness here.”

“Please don’t.”

Robin’s unimpressed stare tells you that she’s not only going to ignore your request, but she also really means what she’s about to say. Her voice is steady and calm as she speaks, “Steve likes you.” She says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you suppose it is. At least now.

“He’s told me. I mean, he really, really likes you… like marry you this instant, thinks about having six kids with you, likes you…” She drags the words slowly trying to emphasize her point.

You know this. But you have to play that you don’t. “Jeez, I don’t know about the six kids and the marriage part, I think you might be getting way ahead of yourself there Rob,” your voice drifts slightly. “But I’d hope that at the very least Steve likes me. It’s not like he’s one of my best friends or anything.”

Max lets out a low groan. Robin has basically confirmed that Steve (despite everyone else already knowing this) is in love with you, and you’re still refusing to acknowledge it.

It’s beyond frustrating. “You’re so hopeless.” She says.

“Am I?” You jest. As guilty as you feel, this is sort of fun for you.

“Terribly.” Is her reply.

You grin, happy to change the subject. “Can’t make things easy for you now can I?”

“We’d never expect you to.” Stormy blue orbs catch yours, a flicker of recognition flashing back to you.

There's a hint in Nancy’s voice and demeanour that tells you she knows more than she’s letting on. The look she gives you says it all: your secret’s safe with me.

You shouldn’t be surprised that she picked up on it. She’s probably known for months. Because not only does she know you and Steve better than almost anyone else, she knows exactly what Steve looks like when he’s in love.

With a soft smile falling onto your lips, you breathe a sigh of relief in the moment of brief silence that rests between you. Someone knows, and they approve. Your eyes glimmer gratefully. Thank you. Your signal is nonverbal, but she understands nonetheless.

You’re welcome.

• ж • ж • ж •

Steve wonders how you’re doing right about now. Because at the moment, he wants nothing more than to be with you, hanging out and not having to worry about keeping this a secret.

For the past hour, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike have been driving him up a wall. Susie this. El that. Max, blah blah blah.

Mike had started it all with a quick, ‘Hey Steve, why don’t you have a girlfriend?’

Then Lucas had joined in. ‘Yeah, what happened to you man? I thought you were supposed to be some kind of God or something?’

“He used to be.” Dustin had assured them. “Still is. The God’s somewhere in there.” Dustin poked at Steve’s chest. He’d seen Steve in action before, he knows the charm is real.

The pale raven haired teen beside Dustin then snorted. “Bagging my sister doesn’t count.”

Steve almost punted Mike over that one. Smug little bastard…

And that’s not even the worst of it. Steve can take the constant teasing of his romantic failures; he’s been doing that for years now, taking blow after blow to his ego. It’s Eddie’s creepy staring that’s sending him over the fucking edge. Every time he looks over, there’s Eddie, already looking at him.

Steve shudders at the thought. He can feel Munson’s pair of deep brown eyes burning holes through his back, the hairs on his neck raised in discomfort. It’s like with every breath Steve takes, Eddie is analyzing it. He’s this close to smacking Eddie upside the head and telling him to cut this shit out.

It’s only when they get a moment alone does he discover the reason for the Hellfire club leader’s strange behaviour. They stand awkwardly in Mrs. Henderson’s kitchen, fumbling for snacks for the boys when Eddie finally breaks the silence.

“So,” his smirk is apparent. Steve didn’t know someone could smile that wide. “I was thinking.”

“Ah.” Steve hums trying to settle the nervous pit in his stomach. “Is that what that was?”

Eddie chuckles. “You know what Steve-O? Just for the ‘tude, maybe I shouldn’t tell you what I was thinking…” he trails.

That’s a challenge if he’s ever heard one, and he’s not about to bite. Eddie is anything but patient.

“Fine by me.” Steve claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as he passes him to grab a bowl from one of Dustin’s cupboards.

Eddie’s brow raises in surprise at his response, running a hand through his curly mop of hair.“Woah, c’mon.” He moves swiftly following him. “I was only kidding! Of course I’m going to tell you.”

Steve grabs the bag of popcorn from the cupboard, and pops it into the microwave. “Alright.”

“Okay.”

A couple of moments pass before:

“So?...” Steve’s fingers drum across the countertop in anxiety.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Oh right.” He says, watching the time tick down on the clock. “It’s more of a question really.”

Steve moves to grab the bag out of the microwave as the timer beeps. “Shoot.” He replies, gently dumping the popcorn into the big plastic bowl. He’s kind of proud of himself for keeping this calm when he feels so on edge.

“Stop me if I cross the line or anything,” That’s never a good start to a sentence…

Eddie’s voice lowers in volume, but his tone grows in confidence. There’s something else to it, amusement…satisfaction maybe, Steve can’t quite place it. But he doesn’t like it.

Amber eyes meet a honey brown. Steve’s not sure how many seconds pass before he hears Eddie say:

“How long have you and (Y/n) been fucking?”

Well, fuck.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #stranger thing imagine #stranger things x reader

[inuyashaluver]

ok so i don’t know how u would feel but would u wanna write for sam kerr maybe? 😶 im desperate for fics abt her

biggest fan - sam kerr

sam kerr x reader

description: in which you are quite literally your girlfriends biggest fan, something she loves more than anyone

warnings: swearing

a/n: it’s sammy! i had no idea what to do at first for this legend but here it is, thanks for the request, lovely! enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, sam had a relatively cliché start to your relationship. it was a classic case of being in love with your sister’s best friend. your older sister, caitlin was extremely protective of you, she was two years older and never let you forget it.

when caitlin started football, you followed along, completely unaware of the status the foord sisters would later in the future. but back to square one, when you and caitlin played in the australian u17’s team, caitlin had been called up first. that’s where she met sam, forming a quick friendship. caitlin always bragged to you about the girl, funnily enough you hadn’t met.

it was until you got called up a year after, you finally met the girl your sister talked about so highly. caitlin dragged you around the change room on your first day, introducing you to your new teammates dutifully. and when she got to sam, your cheeks turned pink.

“sam, this is my sister, (y/n), sister this is sam” sam gives you a bright smile, extending her hand out to you, before you could ever reciprocate, caitlin gave you a shove forward, clearly underestimating her strength behind it. you completely lose your footing, stumbling slightly forward and landing in the arms of sam.

both of you look at each other with wide eyes, two warm hands held you at the hip, catching you before you fell. “you alright?” sam questions with a little giggle, you quickly separate yourself from the embrace, your face growing warm. “yeah, sorry” you smile sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“sorry, sissy, didn’t realise you couldn’t stand straight” caitlin lets out a bright laugh, clapping your shoulder somewhat apologetically, “fuck off” you mumble, giving her a little shove.

“we’ll see you around sammy” caitlin slings her arm around your shoulder, dragging you to your cubby which was thankfully next to hers.

as time progressed, both you and sam can’t help but develop little crushes on each other. when you get changed, both you and sam steal glances at each other. and throughout training. and through matches. the amount of times you looked at each other should have been clear indications for both of you - but clearly not.

you were shy, something that your teammates discovered quite quickly during the beginning. though, you began to break free from your shell, with almost everyone except sam. she was convinced you didn’t like her and she needed to do something about it. she was completely entranced by you.

so, she approached caitlin, pulling her aside after training. “hey, does your sister not like me or something? she never talks to me” caitlin eyebrow quirks, “uh, not that i’ve heard of, that girl idolises you” caitlin lets out a laugh, you’d always ask caitlin about sam at any chance you got.

sam is visibly confused, shifting her weight between her legs. her eyes drift to where you stood with alanna, alanna was talking to you about something but your eyes were trained on your sister and your little crush.

when sam makes eye contact with you, you immediately turn red and look away. she watches as alanna teases you for getting caught. this confuses her more. “what do you mean?” sam focuses her attention back in caitlin, “(y/n) talks about you all the time” caitlin groans, “she literally never stops, even if i beg” caitlin laughs again, sam smiles at this, her cheeks going slightly pink.

as sam and caitlin laugh, caitlin’s face suddenly drops. she came to a realisation. “that little shit” caitlin says under her breath. she knew - you liked her best friend. caitlin walks away from sam, rushing off to walk to where you were with alanna. she ignores the protests of sam coming from behind her.

you turn when alanna slaps your wrist, her eyes focused on the incoming storm cloud that was your sister. suddenly, you’re on the ground, caitlin on top of you while she tickles you, one of your biggest weaknesses.

“caitlin” you breathe out, attempting to push her off but she was extremely strong. “why didn’t you tell me?” caitlin continues her relentless tickle attack, “tell you what?” you exclaim breathlessly, “that you like her!” caitlin stops for a moment, both of you just staring at each other. she had an unreadable expression on her face and it scared you. you swallow the lump in your throat and your eyes glance over at sam before refocusing back on your sister.

sam and alanna watch you both helplessly, looking at each other in disbelief before focusing back on the duo on the floor. “i was scared” you whisper, caitlin slightly softens at this, getting off you and helping you up. “scared of what?” caitlin speaks lowly, her eyes tracing over your face. “of you” you laugh, giving her a light shove. she cracks a little smile before returning back to a stern expression.

“are you serious about it?” you nod immediately, she looks right into your eyes, looking for any indications of a lie but finding absolutely nothing. you really did like her.

“okay” caitlin says simply, you look at her in shock. “okay?” you repeat, she nods “okay” she giggles, flicking your forehead and gaining an immediate wince from you. caitlin parts from you, turning to sam, “i know it hasn’t happened yet, but it will, hurt my sister, i hurt you, got it?” caitlin smiles, her hand squeezing sam’s shoulder as she spoke, walking away with a grin.

sam was seriously confused now. she looks at you for an answer, seeing your pink cheeks and nervous body language said everything. you and sam started dating 5 months later.

—

now in present times, you and sam both represent australia and you followed her to play for chelsea. something your sister couldn’t fathom but she still loved you, you think. the woso community labelled you and sam as a favourite couple. you’d both been dating for so long, everyone loving how genuine and special your love was.

and something that everyone noticed, you were obsessed with your girlfriend, exactly the same as all those years ago. it was seen at almost every moment possible.

for instance, during a chelsea match, sam got a goal from your assist. the roar of the crowd for your girlfriend was one of your favourite sounds ever. when she bolts over to you to lift you up in celebration, you look at her with absolute lovesick eyes as she hoists you on her waist. “let’s go, baby!” she exclaims happily, giving you a squeeze and a quick kiss on your lips. the pink dusting your cheeks has your girlfriend smiling uncontrollably.

“perfect goal” you boast, “perfect assist” she says cheekily, placing you back on the pitch with a kiss to your forehead. at the end of the match, you were doing your lap of photos and signatures until you see a sign. ‘(y/l/n) let’s swap shirts!’ you smile, completely intrigued, walking up to the girl and ripping off your jersey, in return she places a simple white t-shirt into your hand.

you unfold it to see ‘i love my girlfriend’ with sam’s face printed on it. you thank the girl profusely, laughing brightly and immediately slipping it on. everyone takes photos of you and your proud grin.

you quickly turn to try and find your girlfriend, spotting her signing someone’s shirt on the other side of the pitch. you thank the fan one more time and tell everyone you’ll be back, all of them laughing at you and your reaction.

you sprint to sam, tapping her on the back with the brightest smile ever. she turns in confusion, smiling at your face “you’re smiley” she giggles, assuming your happy from the win, her eyes then trail to your chest and she lets out a bright laugh.

grabbing your biceps to hold you while she took in the shirt and your grin. she’s smiling so brightly, her cheeks hurt. “baby, oh my god!” she laughs, you just smile at her, “new favourite shirt” you say cheekily, wiggling your eyebrows at her with a smirk.

she laughs harder, kissing you quickly on your lips. you feel her smiling into the kiss, both of you unable to contain your grins. she pulls away and you kiss her cheek quickly. she shakes her head amusingly at the amount of phones filming you, slinging her arm around your shoulder and taking you back to where the fan gave you the shirt.

you smile at all the fans, ready to resume your photos and signatures. sam kisses your cheek and sneakily smacks your backside before running off to where she was before. throwing you a wink and bright smile as she ran off. you shake your head at her with a laugh.

you didn’t take the shirt off when you got into the change room. the girls were teasing you relentlessly. “oh my god, (y/n), you sap!” millie screeches when you walk into the room. you just smile and nod your head, doing a hair flip motion over your shoulder, everyone laughs at your proud expression.

sam gleams from her cubby, looking at you with so much love. you move across the change room, getting playfully shoved by your teammates before settling on your girlfriend’s lap. her hands instinctively go on your waist and your thigh “hello, sammy baby” you breathe out, kissing her cheek again and wrapping your arms around her neck. “hi, pretty girl” she returns the favour, kissing your cheek repeatedly and making you giggle. she smiles into you, her favourite sound was your giggle, especially when she was the one who prompted it.

she moves to whisper in your ear, “i’m a little offended by this shirt, baby” her lips graze your ear and blood rushes to your cheeks. “why?” you whisper back, running your nails over the back of her neck. “i want one too” she smiles, pulling away to face your flushed face. you smile softly, kissing her lips gently and she quickly grasps the back of your head to deepen it. she slips her tongue into your mouth and squeezes your thigh, your breath hitches, humming into her mouth and leaning into her. she clearly loved the shirt just as much as you did.

she pulls away, your swollen lips spurring a smirk on her face. “you’re cute” she remarks, moving to hug you tightly. she tucks her head into the crook of your neck and places a little kiss there, “enough, love birds, please, or i’m calling caitlin!” millie exclaims, moving to grab you off sam’s lap and lifting you in her arms. you laugh when she spins you around.

“you don’t even have her number,” you say challengingly, “oh yes i do” millie smirks, pulling her phone out and showing her contact information to you. your eyes widen and millie places you on the ground. you run over to sam, she stands up to hug you and flips millie off over your shoulder, kissing your temple affectionately.

—

sam did end up getting a shirt like yours, showing it to you proudly when she received it. you wore your shirt all the time, happily showing off your pride for your girlfriend, not even caring about the teasing anymore. you were your girlfriend’s biggest fan, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by mbrighty04 and 44,233 others

samanthakerr20: she never takes this shirt off

view all comments

yourname: my favourite shirt FOREVER

↳ samanthakerr20: you’re cute

↳ yourname: you’re hot

↳ samanthakerr20: you’re hot

↳ caitlinfoord: ENOUGH PLEASE

mbrighty04: GROSS

↳ caitlinfoord: i second that

↳ yourname: caitlin!

↳ caitlinfoord: i love you?

matildas: parents

chelseafcw: parents

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #sam kerr #sam kerr x reader

[theamberwriter]

The Perfect Blend

Modern!Alpha!Levi Ackerman x Omega!GN!Reader || Tea Shop AU

Word count: 6.3k

So this is the first fic I’ve written in a while, and I cannot remember the last time I actually watched AoT. But my thirst for Levi can never be tamed. I hope this does him some justice. Also, I’m on my iPad. So the formatting may be a little weird.

Companion Art: [1] [2]

☕️📚

The Stem and Spine was the shiney new bookstore/tea shop opening on the corner on Prescott and Main. It seemed like ages since anyone had tried opening a store there. It was such a quaint spot. The historical building had detailed moldings, uneven red bricks, and chipped, dark blue paint. Six large, angled windows gave a panoramic view out to the bustling streets in your little college town.

It was the perfect spot to stop, drink tea, and people watch.

You were looking forward to opening day. You’d spent months crawling through every bookshop, online and in person, as well as every thrift shop trying to find one specific book. No one seemed to know of it’s existence. So you were silently begging the universe to cut you a break and let this new bookshop carry what you were looking for.

You’d only recently discovered their grand opening. An awkward omega gave you a flier. They were handing them out as people were leaving the grocery store. You were really excited, but maybe that was your inner bookworm talking.

Since the shop was right down the road, you decided to walk there on opening morning. You weren’t really expecting any sort of crowd. All of the college kids had gone home for the summer, so the streets had emptied out some. You enjoyed how quiet the summers were. So the long, winding line leading from the door of Stem and Spine was definitely a surprise.

You didn’t need to look for the book that badly. You could come in a month or so when things had died down some. You were going to head back home when you heard the people by you talking:

“I heard the guy running this place is hot as fuck,” said one.

“Did you hear what that girl in our study group said?” asked the other. The first shook their head. “Apparently his scent is like, super strong.”

The friend grinned, running their tongue over their teeth. “I can‘t wait to find out.”

Oh no, you mentally groaned then took a nice deep breath. The scents came one right after the other. A mangled mash up of pheromones. This line was almost entirely betas and omegas. And they were here for that alpha. You were never going to be able to shop there at this rate! As an omega yourself, you just knew they all would come from miles around until this guy was claimed.

You decided it was better to queue up, then maybe you’d actually get a chance to set foot inside. You waited for hours. You were sure those ahead of you would linger as long as possible and try to make an impression. That meant everyone had to stand in line longer.

By the time employees came down the line and told people they were closing for the night, your feet were killing you and your phone battery was nearly dead. All day and you’d only gotten a quarter of the way to the door! You could still see the spot you’d started from. A few people tried to get rowdy, complaining it was unfair that they’d been waiting all day. But their steam fizzled when employees threatened to call the police.

For two weeks, you checked the line for Stem and Spine. Day after day the line seemed to get longer. You saw a lot of returning faces, they must’ve been desperate. You even saw a handful of people getting escorted out by police! You also heard more and more rumors about what everyone was lining up for.

I heard he’s one of those hot, stoic types. I’d love to break him.

I heard that if you’re a beta or omega, just the guy’s scent is enough to make you jizz in your pants.

I heard he doesn’t like needy omegas, good thing I’m not like the others.

I heard he’s starting an entire harem - I’d love to be a part of that!

This is my eighth time going. I swear, I’m on the verge of making him my mate!

The rumors went on and on, getting more and more absurd. You wondered what this guy was really like, if he was really worth all of this. You weren’t interested, you just wanted a book! If anything, this was annoying. You figured it was probably annoying for him too, especially if he just wanted to do his job and not have to worry about anyone throwing themselves at him.

Finally, on a Sunday afternoon, you were able to set foot in Stem and Spine. It was quiet. No three block long line in sight. Sure, it was still busy but these people actually wanted books. They were all glued to the shelves, actually talking about books, and showing each other covers.

Inside was better than you’d imagined it. Everything was cream, gold, crimson, and navy blue. In one half was the tea shop. There were shelves of tea and accessories that lined the walls; loose leaf, prepackaged, diffusers, tea pots, honey sticks, spoon rests. As well as a long barista counter that had a large chalkboard and sizable drink list that was nothing but tea. There were a small handful of metal tables and chairs, and you remembered seeing some outside with umbrellas as well.

The other half of the store was the bookshop. There was row after row of books. Mostly fiction from your first glance. There were also displays for local authors and a shelf of new arrivals. You couldn’t wait to spend the day combing through. The entire vibe was cozy and the scent of jasmine wafting around was relaxing. You did wonder, however, how you were able to get in. Had the alpha been claimed? You didn’t smell anything overwhelming.

“Aaawwww, what do you mean he’s not here?!” You heard a girl whine. You were just starting on the second row of books.

“Mr. Ackerman isn’t here,” said the employee, irritation clear in their voice. “And no, I don’t know if he’ll be back today.”

The girl groaned loudly, but you didn’t hear her complain anymore. You figured she must’ve left. You wondered if she was the one who’d managed multiple visits.

“This has really gotten out of hand,” you heard the employee down the aisle say. They’d been stocking more books. “Great for sales, though.”

“That bad?” you asked. The employee looked at you, she looked tired. Her name tag read Mikasa.

“You have no idea,” she sighed. “I like working here. Levi is my cousin and a great boss, but these fangirls have just been too much. You’d think the fact that he ignores them would be a turn off. But they just keep coming.”

You didn’t realize you’d spent your whole afternoon in Stem and Spine until Mikasa came around to give you a five minute heads up. You were disappointed you didn’t find what you were looking for. But you still managed to find a couple hidden gems you were excited about. Maybe what you wanted was just too obscure.

You brought your books to the counter. As they rang you up, you noticed a clip board with a paper that read What Books Would You Like to See at Stem and Spine? Under that was a long list of handwritten titles and author names. You quickly scribbled down the book you were looking for. At least now there was a chance for it to appear.

Over the next month, you managed two visits to Stem and Spine every week. You and the employees actually started to recognize each other. You also started to see titles you recognized from the list. The mysterious Mr. Ackerman, however, still managed to escape your sight. Every time you went, there was a small posse outside just trying to grab a whiff.

It wasn’t until your first visit of the following month that you finally laid eyes on him. You’d just finished a series and were looking to start a new one. So you wandered over to the new arrivals section. You’d been there about half an hour when a heavy wave of lavender hit you. It filled your head, murking up your thoughts. You figured this had to be him, and the rumors were true - his scent was another beast entirely.

You shook your head to focus your thoughts. You liked this store, so this was something you were going to have to get used to if you wanted to keep shopping there. But you were also extremely concerned - if he was here, then that long line and hoard of omegas and betas would be too. You wanted to leave, but you were stuck between two books with money only for one.

You probably should’ve noticed the scent getting stronger. But you were so focused on reviewing the synopsis on both and thumbing through that you were oblivious. You didn’t wake from your stupor until there was a flutter of movement beside you. You glanced to your left to see a dark haired man in a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He set down the few boxes he was carrying.

This man, you realized, was where the lavender wall had come from. This was the infamous Levi Ackerman, owner of Stem and Spine. Mikasa had told you a bit about him in previous weeks. You liked talking to her whenever you came in.

“It’s rude to stare,” he said in a surprising tenor. His back was still to you. You cursed under your breath and turned back to the shelf. That was one way to embarrass yourself. You began musing between the books in your hands again.

After a long moment of silence, a voice said, “I’d pick the one in your right hand.”

You looked over to meet a bored pair of silver eyes. “What?”

“I’ve read them both. The book in your right hand was far more interesting.”

“Oh cool,” you said slowly. “Thanks. I would’ve been here for ages.”

You quickly placed the other one back in its place and scuttled away. You were just going to have to take his word for it. You didn’t want to hover anymore than you had. At the front, they packaged up your book and you were swiftly out the door.

Levi had been right, the book was very good and you were excited that there were four more books to follow with a movie planned. The next time you tried to go to Stem and Spine it was packed again. There was a line down the block and you just didn’t have the time to wait. Your shift at work started soon, and all you’d wanted to do was thank him for the recommendation.

You decided to head straight to work instead. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long to see the bookstore owner again. The wall of lavender hit you before you saw him. You watched everyone around you turn to stare. It didn’t seem to phase him in the least.

Levi came to the counter and briefly talked with your coworker, who couldn’t seem to keep a straight face. When they disappeared to look for someone, Levi waited at the counter. This was probably going to be weird, but you really did want to thank him for helping you find a new series you absolutely loved.

“Hey,” you started, the book in your hand. He glanced at you briefly. “I, uh. You probably don’t remember me, but you recommended this book to me last week. And I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you. It was really good.”

“I told you it was better,” he stated. “I remember the other one you had - the author writes shit. It doesn’t have any good character development and there were a few glaring plot holes.”

“Oh, that’s good to know - I’ll definitely take that off my reading list.” You laughed awkwardly, carefully tucking the book away in your bag. “I was, uh, I was going to stop by the shop earlier. See if you were there - so I could thank you. But that line was just - woo!”

“I’m going to have to do something about that.” You weren’t sure if that was directed at you, but Levi seemed lost in thought.

Your coworker soon came back with someone in tow. They talked for a minute and then Levi and his intoxicating scent were gone. Afterwards, your coworker could not shut up about him. There was no way you were going to tell them about the bookshop.

In the days that followed, the line to get into the shop shrunk. But there was a continuous crowd that flurried around. A few employees you recognized seemed to be doing crowd control.

“I don’t care that you want to see him,” said one. “You don’t actually want a book or tea! It’s clogging up the shop.”

So Levi was doing something about the outrageous line. You were looking forward to being able to shop there again. The employees inside seemed less stressed when you went in and, at least, you weren’t brushing shoulders with anyone.

“Hey, [Name]!” Mikasa called as she spied you. She waved from her spot at the book counter where she was talking with Levi. You waved back at her, accidentally met Levi’s eyes, and then shuffled off into the book aisle to grab the next installment of the series.

You paid for your book, then went over to the tea shop. You didn’t know much about tea, but you figured you might as well start trying the different blends. There was a small display set up that recommended different teas for certain books. Like a nice citrusy Lady Grey to go with Pride and Prejudice.

“I don’t think that tea pairs with your book.”

You knew that voice. You turned to find Levi there with you, hovering, observing as you skimmed through the tea bags. You looked down at the pouch of English Breakfast Tea in your hand.

“You don’t think so?”

“You’ll want a black currant tea.” Levi reached just above your head and pulled down a paper bag with a raven on it. “I’m partial to this one.”

You took the bag, turning it over in your hand. You put the original pouch you grabbed back. Awkwardly, you smiled at him. “Uh, thanks. Guess I’ll go pay for this then.”

You weren’t sure what to make of it, it was probably nothing. But this encounter left you with a strange feeling. There were a few more like that to follow too.

“You’ll want a different tea for that,” he said as you picked up the third book.

“I can’t just make the black currant one?” you asked, baffled.

“Each book has a flavor that it pairs with. This one is more of a mint. If you pick wrong, you'll ruin the whole damn experience.” Levi turned the full power of his eyes on you. You were frozen under them. “Just like each person has their scent. Each scent has something that pairs nicely with it. For example, mine is lavender, yours is more of a sage. The two go well together.”

“Oh,” was all you could manage. That was the first time you felt the little flutter in your chest.

Every time you went to Stem and Spine to purchase a book Levi was there over your shoulder. He’d direct you to whichever tea he felt best went with it. He even started talking about the nuances in the flavors. How the aromatics helped, which shape of tea bag was optimal, ideally how long to steep it for. You became very knowledgeable about tea in the following visits. You were sure you'd be an expert by the time you went to pick up the last book in the series he showed you. But nowhere near as knowledgeable as Levi.

The next time you went, you saw Mikasa at the counter speaking with Levi.

"You can have the days off. Just fill out the request form," Levi said as you walked up to them.

"You're going on vacation soon, Mikasa?" you asked.

She turned her eyes to you. "My mate is going into his rut soon. I always make sure to take those days off to help him with his nest or anything else he needs."

You smiled at her. "That's really thoughtful, Mikasa. I hope, if I find someone, that they're like you."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't have a mate?"

"No." You shook your head and shrugged.

You could've sworn you caught Mikasa giving Levi a nudge and a sharp look. Levi gave her a brief glare back. Then his eyes turned to you, his gaze relaxed.

"Why?" he asked.

You laughed humorlessly. "No one's ever really stuck around or I broke up with them. One guy tried to get me to sell my book collection. He said that they were just a waste of time and money. So I decided that he was a waste of my time. There's nothing worse than someone who doesn't understand your hobbies."

Levi said nothing but hummed in response.

"Do you have a mate out there in this big wide world, Levi?" you asked.

"No," he spat curtly.

You didn't mean to gape, but you couldn't deny you were shocked. "Really?"

"What?"

"I'm just surprised, ya know? With your strong scent and how handsome you are... I just figured by now someone would have come along. That's all."

Levi looked away from you. "My scent is more trouble than it's worth. All it does is draw shitty little brats."

You chuckled. "I can see that, considering the long line the first month you guys were open. I also noticed the growing wall of banned people. – Well I just came in to grab something really fast before work. My shift starts soon."

The college students were starting back up for the autumn semester. The streets began to fill up with cars of fresh faces, new dreams, and overstuffed suitcases. You had a feeling there'd be a new influx of people at Stem and Spine.

The hunch was correct.

Before you knew it, the store was once again filled wall to wall with people seeking Levi's attention. He seemed increasingly agitated every time you saw him. Then he once again disappeared for a few weeks, causing the crowds to thin.

“I heard the author is writing the final installment,” Mikasa said as she rang you up. “It’s supposed to be out in a few months.”

“Really? I thought this was the last book?” You raised an eyebrow. You weren’t upset, just surprised. The story felt like it could easily be wrapped up in one book. You hoped it wasn’t going to be one of those strangling the plot lines scenarios, where the whole series goes down in flames right at the end.

“Nope, one more.” Mikasa shook her head. “I’m sure Levi will be upset.”

“Does he really like this series?”

“No.”

You met her with a curious gaze. Her eyes gave you nothing in return. You’d never really noticed how similar she and Levi looked until then. Both with silky black hair and unwavering grey eyes.

"I don't smell him around today. I take it he's still in hiding? I guess I'm on my own to find a tea, then," you laughed.

Mikasa handed you your bag, it was brown paper with a dark red book and tea leaf stamped onto it. You had a small collection you kept folded under your sink and used for various things.

"Hey, before you go," Mikasa started. "I'd like to consider us friends."

You nodded and smiled at her. "I'd like to think so."

"So then would you like to hang out when I'm not working? I was thinking about going to see the movie for this, it comes out soon. Would you like to go? I'll buy the tickets."

"That'd be awesome! I can pay you back."

Mikasa laughed, then waved her hand dismissively. "It's no issue, don't worry about it. Give me your number, and we can pick a date."

You exchanged numbers then wandered over to the teashop. You were only a little upset to be tea shopping alone. You were so used to having company. You wondered what type of tea Levi would recommend. You had to admit, you were starting to look forward to your shopping visits more knowing he was there. You were happier to see him than Mikasa most days. You were grateful for your newly formed friendship, so it made you feel a bit guilty. But you couldn’t deny that there was something soothing about listening to Levi’s passion for tea.

You thumbed through the pages of the book. Skimming without trying to spoil anything for yourself. You were just trying to get the feel. What flavor would this book be? Something dark and fruity, like a black currant? Or something a little lighter, more classic like the mint? You settled on an orange bergamot, this would have to work. You paid and then walked over to your job.

About half way through your shift, a familiar tsunami of lavender smacked you in the face. Levi strode casually through the lobby looking bored as ever. He had a bag in his hand. You wondered if he’d been out shopping. You met his gaze, immediately diverting your own back to your paperwork.

“Mikasa said you were in the shop today,” he said, the scent rolling off of him was strange and heavy.

You looked up, getting sucked into those silver pools. “Yeah, I came to get the next book in the series. I figured you were still keeping your distance. - Did you need my help with something? Did you need John again?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t pick a shitty tea.”

You scrutinized his face. It held absolutely nothing. He really came all this way to ask what tea you picked? Well, it was just the next street over. But he still had to go out of his way to see you. He didn’t have to do that. Your heart fluttered.

“I skimmed through, but I’m not sure I picked the right one.” You handed over the bag of tea you bought.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Tech, don’t spoil it for yourself, idiot.”

He took the bag, examining it thoroughly. He considered the ingredients for a long moment. You could practically see the cogs turning in his mind. Finally Levi handed it back over to you.

“Interesting choice,” he started. “But it works. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, I really tried to put your lessons into practice,” you laughed. There was a long stretch of silence. “I suppose you’re probably going back to Stem and Spine, I won’t keep you any longer. But I appreciate you stopping by, I didn’t think you remembered that I worked here.”

Levi stood a moment longer, then placed the bag he’d been carrying on the counter. It was from his store. “I brought this in case you picked wrong. - I’d still like you to have it.”

You stood. “No, I couldn’t -”

“I insist.”

“At least let me lay you for it. Or exchange it for the one I bought!”

Levi was already walking away. “Just take the fucking thing. I picked it out for you.”

Then Levi was gone, but his lavender scent still swam in your head. You took the bag from the counter, peering in to inspect its contents. You were so curious what he picked. You pulled out a white bag of loose leaf tea with a rose stamped on it in pink. The name read The Start of Something Sweet, it was made with strawberries and rose. You couldn’t help but smile a bit to yourself.

Later that night you made yourself a cup using what you remembered of Levi’s impromptu tea lessons. You couldn’t keep the little smile off your face. Not even as you talked with Mikasa about your movie plans. You picked a date two Saturdays away. You were really excited, you could only hope that the movie did any sort of justice.

A few days later, you made another trip to Levi’s store. It was restock day. As usual, you beelined for the new arrivals section. You were disheartened to find your requested book had still not made an appearance. You groaned. Maybe they couldn’t find a distributor either. That’d be just your luck.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Mikasa asked, stopping beside you. “You look disappointed.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’ve been on the hunt for this one book and no one has it. I’ve checked everywhere! I even put it on your recommendations list when you first opened. It’s just getting annoying at this point.”

“Maybe I can track it down for you and get you a rush order?”

You smiled at her gratefully. “You’d do that for me?”

Mikasa shrugged. “It’s no problem. I don’t see why not. What’s Levi going to do? Fire me?”

“Sweet, thank you so much! I’ll text you what I’m looking for.”

“Hey, I’m actually about to go on break. Do you want to go get something to eat with me? You have off today, right?”

You agreed and hovered by the counter while Mikasa grabbed her things from the back. You chatted idly with a few of the other employees. They were complaining about how busy it’s been since school was back in session. You hadn’t been surprised, of course. They did build the town around the university after all.

Once the scent of lavender began wafting in, everyone became tense. You noticed something was off. It was sharper and so sweet it was almost bitter and very dense and heavy. Levi stalked in, looking irritated. He gave a sharp glare to his employees, but didn’t say anything. Instead marching through the door that said employees only on it.

“Something must’ve happened,” said one of the employees you were talking to. “He was in a good mood this morning.”

You wanted to go after him. In fact, your feet even began to pull in his direction on their own. But you stopped yourself, embarrassed. Tea aside - you didn’t know him all that well, after all. The last thing he’d probably wanted was a random omega tailing after him.

You had a thought, a reflection of something he told you - a book and a good cup of tea always made his mood better. He told you in passing, he probably didn’t even remember saying it. You knew you’d seen your favorite book somewhere in the store. With any luck, it was one he hadn’t read. You swept through the shelves, quickly finding it, then went to find a matching tea. You’d already had one in mind. Mikasa emerged just as the cashier was packing it all up for you. You had them wrap it in brown paper.

“Did you find something after all?” she asked.

You felt warm. Did it get hot all the sudden? You looked guiltily at the items in your hands.

“Actually,” you started awkwardly. “These are for Levi.”

“Levi?”

“Yeah, he seemed pretty mad when he came through a few minutes ago. Could you - I don’t know - could you give these to him for me?”

“I think it would be better if you gave them to him yourself, he’s still here.”

Mikasa didn’t give you much of a choice as she steered you towards the door he’d gone through. She forcefully shoved you down a small hallway and into Levi’s office. He was furious when he heard the door open. The sharp scent was even thicker in here, nearly suffocating. But you couldn’t help your overwhelming urge to calm him.

“[Name],” Levi grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes were shut tight. “I know you can fucking read, the sign says employees only.”

“They have something for you, don’t be an asshole,” snapped Mikasa.

You thought you heard Levi mutter brat under his breath. He looked up at you, eyeing the items in your hands curiously. You smiled a bit. Avoiding his gaze, you admired how neat his desk was. You were sure, if you had a ruler, that everything would be evenly spaced apart.

“You seemed upset when you came in,” you said, swallowing thickly. “I remembered what you said and thought maybe a book and some tea would help? This one’s my favorite and I picked something that I thought went with it. - I promise I paid for it.”

You placed the items on his desk and slowly backed away. You tried to slip away now that your peace offering had been given. Mikasa, however, wouldn’t let you leave. Levi picked up the book, turning it over his hands. He studied the cover and read the synopsis. Finally, after a long minute, he hummed and turned back to you.

“I haven’t read this one,” Levi said. You stifled a sigh of relief. “You make interesting choices in tea, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said quickly and Mikasa finally let you out the door.

Mikasa didn’t bring up the incident over lunch. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why did you do that? It was incredibly impulsive, but also inappropriate. That was basically the equivalent of screaming out how much he made your heart race and your palms sweat.

You tried not to dwell on it. But over the course of the week, you found yourself reflecting. You had hoped, more than you realized, that he would like what you brought him. You wanted his approval, not just his thanks. But you hadn’t been able to find the time to stop by the store and see if he’d read it. You’d been too busy with work, along with some plans with friends.

The next time you saw Levi was at your work again. He came bearing another bag. You were worried your coworkers would start getting the wrong idea. An alpha giving an omega gifts - how must that have looked to them? Then again, it was awfully presumptuous to think that the bag was for you.

But you were certain that Levi would never court you. Did you want him to, even? You hadn’t put much thought into the idea. But you didn’t hate the thought of getting to know him better. All you knew was what little he’d revealed in your chats while you picked out books and tea. Along with a little of what Mikasa had told you.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” you joked as Levi stepped up to the counter.

There was a certain air about him today. Maybe it was the way he’d slicked his hair back neatly. Or how starched the collar on his shirt was where it came out of his camel colored vest. He even seemed a touch more rested than usual.

Levi placed a bag on the counter. “This is for you.”

You couldn’t stop the sound of delight that came out of your mouth as you took the book out of the bag. It was finally, finally in your hands. After countless hours of fruitless searching, the damn book was finally in your hand.

“Holy shit,” you cried. “You found it! How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house this time.” Levi reached in and pulled a small brown pouch out of the bag. He smirked, which sent a chill down your spine. “Cinnamon, something spicy to go with that dirty fucking shit you’re reading.”

You froze mid celebration, oh shit. It was indeed a book with a good chunk of smut in it. Your friend had let you borrow her copy, that’s the only reason you knew about the book in the first place.

“You read it?” your voice came out hoarse.

Levi clicked his tongue. “The important parts, to figure out which blend would go along with it. It’s no wonder you couldn’t find it, no self respecting bookshop carries porn.”

“It’s not porn!”

You were not expecting him to read it. But of course he would only read the spicy scenes. No context to the story or anything else. You were devastated.

“Mhm.” It did not sound like he believed you. With that, Levi turned and began to walk away. He called over his shoulder to have a good day, followed by the pet name they used in the book.

You felt warm all over, tingles chasing from head to toe. You stared after him until he was gone. Then you sat flustered in your seat with your cheek against the cool desk. You could feel a scream burning in the back of your throat. You were so glad there was a half wall so no one could see you.

When you finally got up the nerve to crack open the book you found an envelope. Your name was written in beautiful cursive on the back. Cautiously, you cut it open. Inside was money and a little note in the same scrawl.

I won’t hold this against you. I know your entire taste in literature isn’t trash. Here’s money back for the stuff you gave me. I can see why it’s your favorite.

L. Ackerman

PS. Don’t even fucking think about trying to give the money back.

It was a short note, but it was enough to bring that flutter back. You couldn’t help reading it over and over again.

Before you knew it, movie day was finally upon you. You dressed casually and were so excited that you got to the theater an hour before it started. There was no Mikasa in sight, so you sat on a bench and read. You didn’t start to worry until there was only fifteen minutes before the movie began and she was still nowhere to be seen. Not even a text.

You: Hey, just checking if you’re close by.

Mikasa: Sorry, I’m not going to be able to make it. Enjoy the movie, you’ll have to tell me what I missed.

You groaned. You did not want to see this movie on your own. Though, you supposed it wasn’t so bad. Lots of people went by themselves. You’d just been looking forward to some bonding time with your new friend.

“So this is what that little brat was up to,” said a voice behind you. You turned to find no other than Levi. His scent was just beginning to wrap you up in a field of flowers. He had two travel cups with him, and looked as attractive as ever. No white collared shirt today. That was replaced by casual clothes and tight fitting jeans.

“Mikasa?” you asked, forcing yourself to look away.

He rolled his eyes. “I should’ve known, she didn’t even read the damn thing.”

You stood in silence for a moment. You had to wonder if this was as weird for him as it was for you. You had to admit, you did not see this coming. You could only wonder if he was disappointed to see you there.

You cleared your throat. “Look, you don’t have to watch it with me. We can sit in separate rows -“

“Don’t be stupid. Here.” Levi held out a cup to you. “You didn’t get to read the first book with anything. - Let’s go see if they fucked our shit up.”

Levi grabbed your wrist, tugging towards the direction of your theater. Your skin tingled where he touched you. You weren’t surprised by the amount of stares, but each set of eyes you passed was still unnerving. You were glad to be in your seats where it’d be harder for them.

“I heard they’re already filming the next one,” Levi stated after a few moments. He wasn’t looking at you. He concentrated almost too hard on the screen, you thought he was going to bore holes into it. “We should go see it together when it comes out. Maybe grab dinner beforehand.”

“Like…a date?” you asked. It slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“What the hell else?”

You paused for a moment, twisting to look at him. You couldn’t figure out if he was serious or not. His cheeks gained a flush of pink. You smiled at him, then settled back into your seat.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

Levi nodded, but didn’t say anything else as the lights went down. Somewhere through the night, in the tension of the dark theater, your hand ended up enveloped in his.

In the morning Stem and Spine was your first stop. You were there as soon as they opened. Mikasa was doing the opening drawer. You watched as Levi went up and slammed his hand down on the counter. She didn’t so much as flinch.

“Oi,” he said. Mikasa looked up at him. “What the hell was that stunt you pulled yesterday?”

You walked up behind him. “Yeah, you did miss one hell of a movie.”

“I don’t know why you’re both so annoyed, it seems my plan worked,” she said bored, not even bothering to look up from the cash she was counting.

“How did you know we wouldn’t just walk out of the theater and not watch the movie together?” you asked.

“You both like that series too much. Besides, Levi may know a lot about tea, but he’s also stupid. He never does anything for himself. So while he may not have realized what he was feeling, we all could see it. He just needed a little push. And so did you, [Name]. I knew you liked Levi.”

“I never actually told you that, though. I never told anyone.”

“You didn’t have to. You could smell it in the air when you were around each other. Like a call and response. You two were perfect and you couldn’t even see it. I knew from the first day you walked into the shop.”

Levi took your hand. “Don’t look so fucking smug.”

Mikasa laughed as Levi took you to his office. As soon as you stepped in Levi shut the door behind you. He gave you a swift kiss on the cheek as he went to his desk.

“She’s right you know,” he started, intentionally avoiding looking at you. “We are the perfect blend.”

You couldn’t help but wholeheartedly agree.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi rivaille x reader #captain levi #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman #tea shop au #modern attack on titan #modern au #alpha Levi #alpha Levi Ackerman #omegaverse #alpha omega #omegaverse au #aot omegaverse #snk x you #snk levi #snk x y/n #snk omegaverse #modern Levi Ackerman

[justapoet]

Random dialogue prompt list

"Have you ever been in love?" "No. Why?" "I think I'm in love with you."

Distancing themself from the other because they start to think that there is definitely something wrong with them

Stuttering

"I missed you so much, I don't know why. But, I did."

"You look perfect in this outfit." "Oh."

“Tell me you did not go to a fight without me.” “I don’t need you to protect me.” “It’s not about protection-”

"Did you forget that it was your turn to grab the groceries today?" "Yeah, sorry. I thought I'd wait for you so we can go together?"

“The problem lies within the fact that I want more. That’s what scares me the most, because I don’t want to want more. But I can’t help it.” 

“You said you loved me last night.”

“So that confession…” “Didn’t mean shit ‘cause I was drunk. And I don’t want you accepting that. Let me confess to you, properly, at the least.”

“I swear I didn’t murder anyone.” 

"Who are you when you're not performing?" "Fuck. Marry me."

“You have the most beautiful smile, you know that?”

“I just want(ed) to make you smile.”

“I was just getting my coffee, but then I fell in love with you”

"I…I missed you." "Oh."

“I desperately want to kiss you.”

“Maybe it’s a good mood. Maybe it’s a manic episode.”

"Don't open your eyes"

"Goddammit, don't say that!"

“Fuck it. I’m in.” 

“Too late. I’m already yours.”

“Nothing - no matter how weird or dark - could ever change the way I feel about you.”

“For once, I’m completely serious.”

“I don´t believe that you know what the hell you are doing half of the time.” 

“There isn’t a single unit of thought behind your eyes.” “Of course, not. I’m looking at you. My brain doesn’t work when I’m looking at you.”

"Are we going to talk about it?"

“I’d tear down mountains and rewrite the stars just to see you smile.”

“You weren’t part of my life plan.”

“So, tell me, what do you feel for me?”

“I’m this close to resorting to physical violence if shit continues to not work out.”

“I don’t know what to do.” 

“Say another word and I´ll shove these fries down your throat.” 

“Could you even try to be nice to me today?”

“There are about thirty-five ways this could go wrong. I’d say that’s pretty good odds.”

"Are you seriously considering to go through with this complete absurd?"

"It's a miracle you're still alive." "Mom does say you're a miracle worker, yes."

"You're sick. Did the fever make you forget how to dial my number?"

"Just do it, you moron."

"My self-control is hanging by a thread right now. Please, don't do this to me."

“Hey, neighbour, I’ve never met you before but your dog just destroyed my garden."

“Well, I’m afraid that opinion’s going to change once you get to know me.”

"Ever thought of stepping outside, or have you become part of the furniture?"

"Can you just look at me? Please?"

"I needed to hear your voice."

“Just to clarify: We are in a relationship, right?”

"You're the only thing I should be afraid of, and that fear died off years ago."

“it’s a bit frustrating to how oblivious you are.”

“what do i have to do or say for you to notice that i’m in love with you?”

“Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to happen and I was not supposed to say that, I’m so sorry.” 

so, hi! this is just a silly prompt list, but I'd very much like to ask you to send me asks and resquest a fic from any of them!

I'll be writing for the following couples:

Buddie (9-1-1)

Percabeth (Percy Jackson)

Nick and Chalie (Heartstopper)

Aziracrow (Good Omens)

Polin (Bridgerton)

Kathony (Bridgerton)

If you have any other couples from these universes that you might want, you can send them to me, as well. Other than Buddie (that it's not canon just yet), I like best to only write canon couples.

#prompt list #dialogue prompts #my writing #send me requests! #requests are open #percabeth #buddie #heartstopper #aziracrow #polin #kathony #bridgerton #percy jackson #good omens #911 on abc #fic requests

[infinite-orangepeel]

CW: perv!virgin!eddie/camboy!steve, virginity kink, degradation/humiliation, eddie’s lowkey a creep (again), dirty talk, steve’s dick is tiny lol, religious imagery in a sexual context (brief)

thinking about virgin!loser!simp! eddie who gets zero action and has never been touched by anyone else’s hands but his own.

thinking about him rushing home from work each night to make it on time for steve’s camboy livestream.

he speeds, runs a red light or two. doesn’t pause to consider the consequences bc who the fuck cares? his cock strains against the zipper of his jeans bc he only has one thing on his mind and it’s certainly not avoiding run ins with the law.

“can’t wait to fuck you, pretty boy,” he whimpers as he turns left.

he doesn’t know the object of his affection’s real name, of course. only his username which is @prettyboy86. these days, eddie only ever cums with that name on his lips.

fuck, he’s sick in the head.

eddie’s getting more pathetic and whiny by the minute. he makes tiny little thrusts against the inner seam of his jeans to try to find some form of friction. though he has no intention of getting off before he watches steve’s show.

the zipper makes it painful and pinches the head of his weepy dick but it’s better than nothing. somehow he keeps his hands on the wheel and doesn’t get in a multi-car pile-up. somehow.

he’s so desperately in love with this boy he’s never even met, this boy who has no idea that eddie munson exists.

and to an extent, that’s part of the allure. pretty boy’s powerful. he commands an audience of thousands. people from all over the world pay $25/month just to eye a piece of him.

he never shows his face, but sometimes he’ll suck on a dildo and his lips will be visible in the shot. they’re usually slicked with sparkly lipgloss and look like they’d taste like candy.

eddie knows he must be beautiful though if the rest of his body is any indication. he’s an angel, he’s a saint. eddie worships him, prays to him with a level of devotion he’s never been able to find in organized religion.

once in the driveway of his uncle’s place, eddie throws his van in park, grabs the keys, and makes a mad dash for his bedroom. locks the door behind him as is tradition, cracks open a PBR, and logs onto his laptop.

pretty boy’s site is bookmarked, favorited, and left open in a tab from last night.

eddie navigates to the livestream waiting room and moments later, steve settles onto his haunches onscreen.

a flood of messages from similar admirers clogs up the chat quickly as eddie starts in on his own barrage of thirsty compliments:

@ethebanished: looking so cute tonight, pretty boy. i’d do anything to have your cock in my mouth.

there’s no response. steve’s not even looking at the camera or the screen. he’s adjusting something on his lower half that eddie can’t see.

maybe a cock ring or vibrating toy??

eddie’s bought him so many toys from his personalized wishlist and the one time steve took the clear glittery dildo on camera, he came in his pants instantly. didn’t even have time to stroke his cock once.

it felt intimate. it felt like steve was sending him a message, confessing his mutual love.

eddie sends a few more messages while steve holds up a finger to the audience to let them know he needs a second.

he types rapidly, without though, follows his depraved intentions and lets them run wild into the ether.

@ethebanished: i’ve been watching you since the beginning. i can’t cum to anyone else’s videos. did you know that?? you’re so special, pretty boy. no one else takes cock like you. i’d treat you so well. i’d never let you go, i swear. don’t waste time on the other boys.

@ethebanished: when i save up enough money, i’m gonna buy a custom video from you. i’m gonna make you say my name while you fuck yourself on the dildo i bought you. it’s the clear one with glitter. how does that sound?? would you like that baby?? like some dirty stranger making you cum for him?? i’m saving my virginity for you. waiting for you every day. one day we’ll fuck and you’ll thank me.

@ethebanished: i had to jack off in the storage room at work this morning. almost got caught by my manager but it was worth it. woke up so horny from a wet dream about you. you’re perfect. i have to fuck you. have to.

steve smiles. professionally whitened teeth blinding the camera. eddie convinces himself easily that it’s meant for him despite the thousands of other commenters.

he and steve have something special. sure, they’ve never directly interacted, but if they do—when they do—steve won’t be able to resist eddie’s charms.

“sorry for the delay, everyone. we had a few technical difficulties but thanks to my friend, tommy, we should be all set.”

tommy is the bane of eddie’s existence. public enemy #1. steve’s always running his mouth about “owing credit to tommy” and how “the show wouldn’t be half of what it is without tommy’s support.”

apparently, he’s steve’s camera man, editor, and resident tech guy. but eddie’s worst nightmare is steve ever including tommy in a video or stream.

eddie fantasizes—often—about replacing tommy, himself. he’s got a bunch of editing experience, owns all the fancy software, and knows how to operate a camera. plus, he’d do it for free. he’d do it just to be in the same atmosphere as steve for a fraction of a second.

fuck, his dick is leaking all over his black denim. just another pair of jeans to toss out bc pretty boy’s caused him to stain them.

if pretty boy were here, in person, eddie would have lick them clean to prove his devotion.

his attention snaps back to the screen as steve starts talking again.

“i’ve been wanting to challenge myself, lately to get a bit more up close and personal with my fans,” steve sticks his tongue out slowly and flicks it in the direction of the camera, “y’know to show my appreciation. so if it’s okay with you, i’m going to try something new today.”

eddie’s curiosity sparks. warmth spreads through his thighs, abdomen, and chest.

steve’s speaking directly to him (in his mind) and with all those pretty moles on display, eddie’s free hand wanders to tease his own pierced nipples.

he tugs at them and swirls the buds with gentle fingers. his hips buck in response. he’s always been sensitive. knows he’d cum so easily, so constantly, if pretty boy touched him.

“so one of you sweet angels sent me this adorable teddy bear,” steve nibbles on the ears of the pink plushie and eddie’s instantly jealous of whoever sent it to him, “i love how soft and cute he is, don’t you? his fur just feels perfect on my skin.”

steve lightly grazes the fluff of the bear over his inner thighs as he backs up on the mattress to display his full body for the camera. glossed lips in view. eddie gasps sharply and bites down on his knuckles to muffle the sound. he doesn’t need his uncle to know what a fucking freak he is.

“ohhh. see, that’s nice,” steve’s naked except for—and this absolutely annihilates eddie on the spot—a delicate pink ribbon that he’s tied around the base of his wet cock and a pair of thigh-high white socks.

flesh spills over the tight band of the fabric and eddie yearns to feel the squeeze of those perfect muscles around his head.

“here’s how this is going to work—i’m going to fuck my plushie like a pillow while reading comments aloud from you guys. whoever’s comment makes me cum will get a free five-minute video call with me tomorrow night before the regular livestream begins. there’s only going to be one lucky winner so do your worst, angels,” steve giggle to himself and tightens the bow on his dick, “let the games begin.”

“fuck,” eddie murmurs as he realizes how high the stakes are, “fuck. i have to win.”

the chat ramps up with lust and thrill as the audience observes steve taking the medium-sized plushie to the center of his bed. he fondles his balls, waves at the camera, and straddles the pink bear. his cock twitches in the confines of his ribbon and eddie wonders if it’s real silk. what it might feel like.

“bet you can’t wait to see my little cunt squirt on live, can you? poor teddy isn’t going to knows what’s hit him,” steve strokes the cheek of the bear apologetically and begins slowly rutting, “let’s see if he can handle me.”

it’s important to mention that pretty boy’s cock is small and that this appeals to eddie like nothing else.

eddie’s not huge, himself, but in terms of girth and length—he’s slightly above average. on the other hand, pretty boy’s dick is about three and a half inches hard. his balls are tucked right up against his body and he’s always well groomed. he’s muscular. clearly works out. has toned abs, large biceps (much larger than eddie’s), toned thighs and calves, and his ass is round like a summer peach.

eddie thinks it would taste even better on his tongue.

steve’s a seasoned professional which means he knows damn well how to put on a show. he arches his back expertly, tugs at the long brown tendrils of hair that dip towards his collarbones, and moans wantonly.

“okay—@yourgayestfantasy765 says, ‘pretty boy, you’re so fucking hot,’” steve smirks, fucks his teddy slow and precise, takes his time, “that’s so sweet. thank you!”

his words are kind, but his tone is bored and bone dry. the fact is he reads hundreds of comments like this all the time. it’s nothing new, doesn’t catch him off guard. his hips roll into the plushie’s tummy without stuttering.

it’s hard to concentrate, but eddie’s determined to stand out. racks his brain for something interesting to comment. something that will catch pretty boy’s attention.

he has to be the one to make steve cum. he has to win that five-minute video call. it would change his life to have that chance conversation with the love of his life. the only person he’s ever really wanted.

maybe he’d finally get out of bumfuck, indiana. maybe he’d finally lose his virginity and film videos with pretty boy all the time once he got some tangible experience under his—currently—un-notched belt.

eddie spies the signature tramp stamp—a row of three butterflies—between the dimples above the swell of his ass. he’s spent many long showers with his cock in his hands as he imagines sinking his teeth into that exact spot.

steve rambles off a few more copycat, lack luster comments as eddie types. he theatrically yawns midway through one to show his disinterest. the bear looks equally unimpressed below him.

“aw. you think i have a pretty cock? thank you so much, @daddydicklvr!” he blows a kiss, “but i think you can do better than that.”

eddie’s nervous. he wants this so badly. his palms are clammy. there’s chip crumbs littering the keys of his computer and it occurs to him that he should probably clean up the place when pretty boy inevitably comes over for a date.

he presses send.

“hmm—oh i recognize this username! you’ve been a longtime subscriber, haven’t you ethebanished? let’s read your comment,” pretty boy smiles genuinely and slows his movements to read, licking over his lips carefully, “‘this is going to sound crazy but sometimes i think i’m actually falling in love with you even though i’ve never met you. you’re amazing.’”

the rest of the audience immediatley thumbs down eddie’s message. the replies are even worse:

@kissmyaxx7: fuck off the stream, perv!

@nottaken_: guy thinks he really has a chance lmfao. pretty boy doesn’t date fans. you must be new here.

@titsandtats: smells desperate af in here…

@yoyostar6000: are u even trying to make him cum?

he cringes inwardly, worries he’s royally fucked up his chances, and hovers over the ‘x’ on the tab to click off.

but as he moves the mouse, pretty boy moans high in his throat and eddie finds him shivering with pleasure. his own cock jumps at the sight and suddenly he’s back in action, stroking himself from root to tip as he waits.

“in love with me, huh? i can work with that. tell me more, @ethebanished, i’m listening.”

steve’s a fucking temptress, sucks on his fingers as his thighs start to shake from effort. he’s sloppy with it—shows off his missing gag reflex and doesn’t clean up the spit the dribbles down his chest.

eddie can’t look away. doesn’t want to. his body is on fire with want and he types furiously one-handed:

@ethebanished: idk…it’s everything about u. ur smile, ur voice, ur cute little cock, ur attitude. i just feel like we’d get along great.

other audience members try to compete for steve’s attention, but he ignores them. lets their comments disappear into the chat as he reads eddie’s aloud.

“oh i’m sure you say that to all the girls and boys, cutie. there’s probably a line at your door right now,” steve’s dick is milky at the tip and he’s pressing it between his tummy and the bear. ends of the ribbon peeking out.

eddie sucks in a breath. pulls hard on each nipple for….confidence?? he can’t believe he’s about to admit this to the hottest guy he’s ever seen.

send.

@ethebanished: not quite. i’m a virgin. never had sex before let alone a boyfriend :/

pretty boy’s face—or, what eddie can see of it—lights up at that. his grin widens, reaching around to toy with his rim while he thrusts faster.

“holy shit. i gotta admit that’s hot—ah.”

eddie responds quickly:

@ethebanished: thx. no one else seems to think so. i’m kinda a loser but i promise i’d be so good to you. i’d do whatever you asked of me. idc. only have eyes for you.

steve’s little cock rabbits forwards. he pins the teddy with one hand and edges one finger into his ass with the other.

“fuck. i wish this was your cock, @ethebanished. my fingers just won’t do. i bet you’d be all messy your first time. probably cum inside me before you’d even gotten two inches in,” he whines—going deeper into the fantasy, “i’m mean, though, baby. i’d trap you inside me. i’d ride you until you begged me to stop, honey and then i’d suck you dry. how’s that sound, perv? you wanna stretch my cute cunt on your cock? i’ll teach you how to be a good boy with my pussy.”

pretty boy sticks a second finger in his ass and his balls smush against the fuzzy leg of the teddy as he grinds. his hips move in tight clockwise circles. humping the plushie with primal desire.

what eddie would do to have him rut on his face in the exact same way—

eddie’s getting close. he’s thumbing his cockhead roughly and biting down hard on the hem of his shirt. it’s almost painful to be this turned on. if he doesn’t cum soon he might just pass out or implode.

he sends one final message before he spills onto his hand and keyboard:

@ethebanished: so you gonna make me your bitch or what??

“@ethebanished says—oh fuck my pussy’s so wet, i’m not gonna last—he says—ah—oh my god,” steve shakes, groans like he’s been mortally wounded, and shoots cum all over the body of the pink plushie, “fuck yes—yes—be my bitch. gonna fucking ruin you, sweetie.”

steve humps himself through the rest of his orgasm and slowly withdraws his fingers. the little silk ribbon is somehow still attached at the base of his cock but it’s drenched. he unties it and licks his own release from the soft pink fabric.

eddie’s brain is fried. he’s still horny. he’ll likely jack of at least twice more before bed to prerecorded videos of pretty boy but he’s content.

he won.

he has a chance.

pretty boy smiles into the camera, kisses the lens with pink gloss as is his trademarked move, and squeezes the soggy teddy to his chest.

“alright that’s all i’ve got in me for tonight. but congrats to my horny little virgin @ethebanished. teddy and i look forward to meeting you on our call tomorrow! i’ll dm you the link. everyone else, good luck next time and have a slutty saturday! mwah.”

the livestream ends, eddie can hardly breathe, and his uncle knocks on the door.

“eddie, dinner’s ready! i made lasagna!”

instinctively he covers up his body.

“be out in a second! i’m—i’m working on a song!” he yells back and then pulls up a pre-downloaded video of pretty boy to prepare for his big day tomorrow.

THE END.

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1, @disastardly, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @the-redthread, @asbealthgn, @bestofbucky, @shrimply-a-menace, @vampireinthesun, @carlyv, @lordrrascal , @jjoesjonas , @malachitedevil , @anxiouseds, @feraleddiekinninghours, @gay-little-bitch, @jhrc666, @pinkdaisies98, @mcneen, @perseus-notjackson, @eiddets, @corroded-coffin-groupie, @three-possums-playing-human, @stevesbipanic, @plutoshelm, @arkenstoned, @indiearr, @they-reap-what-we-sow, @gleek4twd

#perv!eddie munson #perv!eddie #perv!steddie #virgin!eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fruity four #stranger things #steddie brainrot #babygirl steve harrington #the babygirlification of steve harrington #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie ao3 #steddie writers #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic recs

[ethereallocs]

Eyes On Me Pt 2.-Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Pairing: Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Content/Warning: !!🔞 PLUS ONLY!!, age-gap, p in v penetration, angst, swearing, degradation, domestic violence and smut.

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Being deprived of true pleasure, you seek it for yourself…

It had been weeks since Ser Criston had, made love to you that night. He found himself longing for you as he stood just outside your door. You weren’t overindulging and knew that this affair couldn’t be something anyone could ever catch onto…ever. You would leave your chambers grazing your fingers past his just slightly so he knew that your affections were still burning for him. Luckily it seemed your husband, Aegon had occupied himself with another mistress and he was often gone and you were glad of it.

You were sitting under the Godswood reading a book. Peeking over the pages every now and then to watch him. His back turned, but even then he could feel your gaze burning into him. He slightly turned his head to see you out the side of his eye and he smiled just enough for you to see before he turned away. Oh Gods. This was torture you thought. In your frustration you got up and quickly walked off. Hurriedly he followed wondering what he did wrong.

Hitting sharp corners almost losing him he grabbed your arm pulling you into a secluded area. Barely any light within this hall as it was never used. Looking into your eyes his hardened gaze softened. “What is the matter, Princess?” You scoffed in disbelief. “How long has it been since the last time you visited me in my chambers, Ser Cole?” You spoke in a hushed yet irritated tone.

He to was frustrated, but he would not risk your life for his own pleasure. “Do you really think I don’t want to be with you, Y/N? I’ve thought of you before that night and I think of you still. But, I cannot let my feelings ruin your life.” The cool touch from his armored hand rubbed you flushed cheek. You nestled into his touch, looking into those golden eyes that pierced through your very soul. Without warning he pressed his lips against yours hungrily as if he could devour you. You moaned into his mouth, pulling him into you.

“I need you always, I want you always. You are all I think about day and night. Your in my dreams. My heart calls your name.” He whispered intensely in your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive flesh. You whimpered quietly trying keep your voice at bay. He hiked up your skirts gripping your plump ass groaning at how it felt in his hand.

He knew you only had just a few moments, but he needed you desperately. He could keep lying to himself trying to preserve his honor and yours. But, such a sun as this was too good to stop. He turned your back to him loosening his breeches and lifting your skirts realizing you had on no undergarments. Grabbing your throat he groaned into your ear. “What a slutty little deviant you are..” You tremble feeling his already hardened cock rubbing against your soaking slit. You pushed into him begging him to fill you and he obliged.

“Fuck…yesss.” He hissed at how good you held him inside you. Your warmth pulling him in. His hand held onto your hip pushing an arch into your lower back as he hurriedly pounded into you. The soft and quick sounds of his hips snapping against your ass filled the dimmed hall along with your delicious moans. He cooed in delight only to cover you mouth and pull you further into the darkness when the sounds of servants chattering caught his attention.

Even still he continued his assault on that soaking wet cunny of yours. You were in pure ecstasy trembling with each thrust. The way his cock stretched your cunt, the way he quieted you with him being the reason you were so vocal only made you want it more. Soon his strokes quickened as he felt his seed ready to spill and you on the edge of your orgasm. “Yes, give it to me, Princess…give it to me.” He beckoned and you unraveled, your cunt drenching his cock and his breeches and in turn he coated your walls with his seed. Today was not a safe day, but you could careless.

He kissed you passionately pulling away to let you fix your clothes back. You sighed knowing this wouldn’t happen for quite sometime again. He smiled letting you walk out first so no one suspected anything and he followed shortly after. You took the rest of the night in your room exhausted from such exertions.

Morning has came and you awoke with a smile, but something in the back of your mind told you to pull back your sheets and there they were clean sheets. You tried not to panic, but you were trying to breath quickly calling for him. He entered your room wondering if you were alright. Clearly seeing the pink faded from your face he pulled you toward him. “My Princess, what is going on?” You looked to him with tears in your eyes. “I haven’t bled. I think I might be with child..”

His eyes frantic trying to think of a solution and just when you were beginning to panic and hushed you with a kiss. “I have a plan..I need to speak with the Queen. I will return to you shortly.” His kiss calmed you and you watched him walk away. You locked yourself away in your room pacing back and forth until you heard a knock on the door. “Come in..” you called out and it was Queen Alicent.

She usually looked so cold, but looking at you now she seemed so warm; motherly. She grabbed your hands and pulled you in. “I’ve heard of what ails you my child. I know of my sons treatment towards you. And I wish you no more harm. I can get the maesters to make you a tea if you wish to stay or I can get the king to send you away and nullify this marriage so you may be free.” You hugged her tears welling in your eyes. You broke down in her arms thinking you would be condemned by her, but she understood.

“Ser Criston, said he would denounce his knighthood. I can get you on a boat to Dorne in a weeks time. The Targaryens have a friends there of course. And a house that will keep you.” You were in shock. “Why are you helping me? Your family despises mine.” She sighed seeing your mothers face in yours. “I should’ve never let your grandsire seal your fate like this. You’ve always been a sweet and honest girl, Y/N. You do not deserve the cruelty my son bestows upon you.”

“I will write my friends in Dorne so they will know to expect me and I will write my mother so she knows where I am.” She nodded to you and kissed your forehead before she took her leave. Shortly after Ser Criston came inside and the two of you worked on your plan. The days had dragged on and the week couldn’t pass by quick enough.

Everything so far had gone smoothly, with Aegon gone and you being one of Viserys’s favorites he ended the marriage without question. Finally, it was your last day in King’s Landing the boat waiting for you with all your things on board. You were giddy and excited, but a dark cloud would find its way to ruin it for you somehow. Night fell and you were dressed and ready to sneak off into the the night when Aegon barged in grabbing your wrists, slapping you across the face harshly.

“My dear… sweet…wife…you’re leaving me?” He said mockingly. He was seething and red with anger grabbing your chin squeezing his fingers into your cheeks. You cried out struggling. “I..I am no longer your wife, Aegon. Get off of me I need to go.” He laughed his free hand running down the bodice of your dress. “Oh no..not before I give you a parting gift, my love.

“No! No!!” You screaming finally mustering up the courage to fight him off you kneed him in the crotch and ran off through the secret passage way behind the painting in your room. You ran and did not look back scared to see him right behind you if you did. It seemed like the darkness continued forever until you saw the wooden door that led to the outside world.

Opening the door you saw Criston waiting for you he turned back smiling knowing it was you, but it quickly faded seeing your face stained with tears. Before he could speak you warned him. “We need to go..Aegon knows I’m leaving..he attacked me and tried to…I hurt him…” He nodded grabbing your hand lacing his fingers into yours. The two of you hidden beneath your hooded cloaks. He avoided all of the Knight’s watch knowing exactly where they were assigned.

You heard them whispering trying to find your where abouts, but soon you were home free seeing the great boat that was to take you to freedom. He looked back at you with a smile and you were glowing with excitement. The crew was now on their course and you were on deck watching your prison slowly fading away into the distance.

Criston wrapped his arms around you, the lack of armor was a bit strange for the both of you, but it felt good to be free of it all. “I’m going to make you so happy, my Princess. I’m still your sworn protector come what may. After you have our child we will travel all corners of the realm just us.” You turned to face him cupping his face in your soft hands kissing him sweetly.

The two of you were off to your happiness or you would hope for it at least. There was a dragon biding his time waiting to strike…

To be continued…

I hope you enjoyed reading let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next part.

#ser criston x y/n #ser criston cole #ser crispin #ser criston #ser criston lovers #criston cole #criston x reader #hotd fanfic #fic rec #read it #house of the dragon x reader #house targaryen #targaryen #fem reader #ser criston smut #reading #x reader #hotd fandom #hotd series #10/10 reccomend

[ashecampos]

ANYONE BUT HER 7

JANIS IMI-IKE X FEM READER

a little Regina x reader

Warnings - swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions of anxiety. Regina being Regina. Hurt. Angst

The POV switches between reader and Janis (I use — when I change the POV)

there will be more parts to this, make sure to reblog and comment and I will get the next few parts up as soon as I can, happy reading lovelies 🫶🏼

———————————————————

TALES OF TESSA MAKE SURE TO READ THIS AND PREVIOUS PARTS BEFORE THIS, LINKED IS FROM THE POV OF TESSA (readers best friend)

———————————————————

I am startled awake by a familiar vibration next to my head, i squint to see who’s phone is ringing, of course it is mine. I groan and sleepily wiggle out of Janis’ arms, grabbing my phone while exiting the room to take the call, I find my way to the bathroom again and sit against the bathtub, answering the call not bothering to read the caller ID, assuming it’s Tessa or Damien.

“Y/n?” The person on the other end asks, as if they knew there would be a chance someone else could’ve answered. I instantly freeze up recognising the voice on the other side of the phone call. “B..Bea? Why the fuck are you calling me?” I say as I start to pace back and forth. “I know im the last person you want to hear this from but I was told you have been seeing Janis Imi’ike, im so sorry y/n” she says, obviously putting what she needs to say off. “Just spit it out bea, whatever you must say, say it” i speak with a sense of urgency “me and Janis have been seeing eachother in secret for a few months now, she had admitted she only helped you that night to make sure you broke up with me” she says. I search for a reason for her to be lying about this but come up with nothing, all rational thoughts gone. I make quick work of ending the call and storming back into the room where me and Janis were peacefully sleeping not even five minutes prior. I grab my hoodie and jeans, throwing them on, I then grab my shoes and leave.

One foot after the other I make a run from it. Like I ran from bea when she cheated. Like I’ve ran from every situation that’s caused me pain. I make my way back to my house, seeing a figure sat on my poarch, it seems they had saw me before i got the chance to see them. The person stands up and walks over. Only now do I realise the hot, sticky tears running down my cheeks causing my ability to make out the person falter. I desperately rub my face using the sleeves of my hoodie, silently praying it’s not my mom who is the one to see me like this. Thankfully I see blonde hair. Bleached blonde hair. Regina George.

She makes her way over, her pace quickening when she sees the state im in. “Oh y/n what happened? Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?” She bombards me with questions while gripping my chin and tilting my head up to look at my face properly. A frown upon her own. “I’m fine I just want to be alone, go see Aaron or something Regina” I choke out trying to hold back the tears threatening to pour again. She shakes her head, unhanding my face and instead grabbing my hand, dragging me into the house. And up the stairs into my room. “Jesus y/n why is your room so dark. No wonder you’re so pale..no offence” she says while running to my curtains, pulling them open and allowing the natural light inside. I wince at the brightness of the morning sun.

She sits me down on my bed, leaning closer to me. “So tell me what’s got you so upset?” She says gently and in a genuine tone. So I tell her everything. I mean it’s Regina George. She may be seen as the ‘queen bee’ but honestly she’s never been bad to me or my brother so I trust her.

“So let me get this straight. She got you to break up with your ex so she could get with her then continued to see the both of you behind each other’s backs? Oh my god. I’m going to kill her” the blonde says while grabbing her phone out of her pocket and aggressively typing away. After a few seconds she looks up and smiles sadly “you’re gonna sit with me and my group at lunch now, trust me she won’t bother you baby.” She says while putting her phone away.

——-

I wake up and stretch, extending my arms out, feeling the surface of the sofa to find it empty. My eyes shoot open looking for the girl. She’s nowhere to be seen. I groggily stand up and head for the bathroom. She wasn’t there either. I sigh assuming she got asked to run some errands by her mom or something. I turn some music on and start to move the basement back to how it was before the date.

The day goes by so fast. The day turns into the next and then the next. No word from y/n at all. She must just be busy.

Entering school on the Monday was probably one of the worst decisions of my life. First everyone was looking at me. Then I got to my locker and there she was at hers. She sees me and walks away quickly. I frown assuming she was just in a mood with it being so early in the day or something like that.. until I see Damien and Tessa storming over. “Janis ‘Imi’ike I have known you for fifteen years but this. This is a new low even for you” the boy starts. “Tell me this is some sick joke right now Janis I swear to god” Tessa says almost immediately after Damien. I look at them taken aback at their sudden disgust and anger toward me. “Can someone please tell me what I done?” I say slamming my locker shut, staring both of them down. “you used her to fuck her ex. Janis I thought you genuinely liked her” Tessa snapped before Damien could say anything “what are you talking about? I do like her. And I despise bea” I say, frowning. “well the morning after you and her had that date night, I got a call from Regina telling me to haul ass to y/N’s house because the poor girl was hysterical, turns out Bea had called her and told her everything about you and… oh fuck, it’s a setup. We need to get to y/n before they do anything else”

——-

These past few days Regina has been the nicest I’ve ever known her to be, yes she is the ‘queen bitch’ of north shore but she’s always been nice to me for some reason. After what happened the other day, she’s only been nicer. I haven’t really spoke to anyone about what happened. I kinda went off the radar until Tessa turned up at my house demanding to know why I hadn’t been answering. Naturally I broke down and told her everything and after reassuring her (a lot) that i would be okay, she left to go home and sleep for school. Aaron didn’t really care about what happened. Not that I really told him. Yes he’s my twin, I’ll always love and be there for him but we don’t really associate with each other anymore. So when I woke up this morning I decided to ‘suck it up’ as my dad would say. I threw on a hoodie and some baggy jeans. Then Regina called me. “Hey short stuf- oh Jesus please tell me you aren’t wearing that?!” She nearly screams down the phone, I cringe looking down at my outfit earning a sigh from her. “I’ll be over in five, do your makeup and I’ll pick some clothes for you when i get there okay?” She asks in a sweet tone. I smile and nod before hanging up and grabbing a joint I rolled last night ready for today. I stare down at it for a few minutes contemplating what im going to do if Janis approaches me today. I haven’t spoke to her since the phone call. I didn’t confront her, I just ran. Shaking my head I light up and take a few drags of the blunt with laying on my bed, all tasks out of sight and mind.

By the time I finished the joint, Regina is in my room and looking through my closet, she looks over at me her smile fading while she grabs an outfit that fits ‘plastic’ standards, but is still in my style. Then she comes and sits next to me on the bed. “So what’s the plan?” She speaks before I can, I shrug “go into school and show her who she messed with” I say in a mocking tone earning a smack over the back of my head from the blonde, she laughs and drags me off of my bed, keeping a tight hold on my wrist to keep me steady. She drags us into my closet and sits me down, pulling my hoodie off and replacing it with an old band shirt I made into a cropped vest, she smirks and grabs my backpack, throwing it at me. She grabs my hand and we are out of the door, in her jeep and on the way to school.

I stand at my locker waiting for Regina to find Gretchen and Karen and come back to get me so she can introduce me to them. Looking up from my phone I see Janis, I roll my eyes and walk the other way, not wanting to start a fight twenty minutes before homeroom. I pull out my phone and call Regina to ask where she is.

Minutes later im stood with the plastics. Gretchen looks me up and down trying to figure me out, while Karen just stands there smiling at me. “I love your shirt, where can I get one?” Gretchen starts off, I smile with a little bit of a blush forming “oh uhm I made it actually” I say looking at the shirt I made a few weeks ago just after meeting Janis. The girls eyes light up as she leans closer “omg so your like an artist and a musician, that’s so fetch” she bounces with excitement. A laugh erupts from beside me “what’s fetch?” Regina asks cringing a little. “Oh it’s like slang from some movie I saw” the girl explains the plot of the movie, I smile at her and her little quirks “well that movie sounds fetch, we will have to watch it one time, right Regina?” I nudge the blonde, knowing how mean she can be towards Gretchen at times. Karen looks over my shoulder and gasps a little. We all turn around to see the commotion. Tessa and Damien are shouting at Janis. I guess Tessa told Damien. Well at least they’ve got to her before I could. Not that I’d even know what to say. “Hey cmon we should get to PE so we can get changed out of sight from the creeps” Regina tugs my arm. I know she’s never early for anything, which lets me know that she is only suggesting that so I wouldn’t have to see Janis. She grabs onto my hand as we all walk to the changing rooms. I drop my bag to the floor and pull off my vest, replacing it with the track hoodie I originally had put on. I change into some shorts and put on my not so white converse. Once we are all changed, we sit on the benches outside of the changing rooms, waiting for the bell to ring and for everyone to come to class, I put my hair in a messy bun before looking up to see two faces laced with shock “you have a tattoo?” Karen says with a smile, earning a confused look from me “you guys don’t?” I answer the question with another question, they all shake their heads making me laugh, I shrug the interaction off and pull on the strings of my hoodie.

The bell eventually chimes and people start flooding into the changing rooms, Janis and Damien included, the both of them are glared at by the three girls while I stare at the floor. The coach shows up, smiling at me, waving his arms around like a goof “y/n congratulations on last weeks race kid” he enthusiastically says before patting my back. “Thanks, hope the next one is just as easy” I laugh a little. To say track is stressful would be an understatement. Some people join to have something to put on their college forms, some join because they love sports, me, I joined because my dad wanted me to be apart of every hobby, he wants me to have as many skills as possible. I know he means good but the pressure to be the best at everything is crushing. I get snapped out of my thoughts when Regina’s hand holds onto mine, I look around and see people leaving to head to the field, I look at Regina and she mouths “you okay?” towards me, I simply nod, I wasn’t about to scare off the person who offered me a safe space this fast.

Approaching the field I see the teacher is holding a bag full of equipment, I look over at Tessa knowing what’s in the bag. Fucking rugby balls. I’ve never liked rugby but Tessa on the other hand. She loves it. It’s her whole life. She has been scouted by professional teams since we were kids. Me on the other hand, not the type of person to tackle people, I would happily just stick to track.

I look up to see Tessa running over to me, a massive grin on her face. “Y/n cmon we are doing rugby” she waves a ball in my face like an excited child. I look over to where she is pointing and see Damien and Janis, I frown and shake my head a little “wait T you aren’t in this class, why are you here?” I laugh a little knowing she is meant to be in English language class right now. Once again she waves the ball in my face “coach pulled me out asking if I would help with some tackling drills.” She nudges me before going to grab me to go see Janis. “Actually im going to stay here and help the plastics” I mumble knowing she won’t like me hanging around with Regina. “What why? Your not like in love with my cousin right?” She crosses her arms and stares at me “you and Janis need to talk. Sooner than later I suggest” she lectures me just as the coach blows the whistle.

Me and Tessa both get forced to grab a tackle practice pad and hold them up ready for the coach to tell people to try tackling us both. A lot of them don’t try to tackle too hard, a few manage to push me back a little but one manages to knock me. Regina. She stands staring at me like a predator scoping out its prey, she then gets a running start, getting lower to the ground with every stride closer she gets and eventually she has her arms around my torso and she manages to buckle my legs and she’s on top of me, smirking down at me with a satisfied grin. “Falling for me already huh?” She leans closer to my face with a cheeky grin, we stay like this for a few seconds before she gets off of me and we both stand up. I take my place back at the line, bag in hand ready to go.

I tilt my head to the side and see Tessa and Janis laughing, Tessa looks over at me with a sympathetic expression, it seems like she knows more about this situation than she’s letting on.

Once the lesson is practically done and everyone is walking off of the field I jog a little to catch up with Tessa and nudge her. “Hey can I grab you for a sec after we are changed I need to tell you something?” She says with a sad smile, she glances at Janis and Damien who are a few feet in front of us, then she looks at Regina and the plastics who are a few feet behind us. “Omg yes, I feel like I haven’t seen you since last week, sorry for going off the rails though” I frown feeling as if im to blame for this situation “that’s actually what I need to te- …oh hey Regina” she starts before Regina comes and joins us causing her to quickly change the topic of conversation. “Hey Tes, you should totally come sit with us, y/n has finally agreed to sit with me and the girls” Regina almost brags, a massive grin plaster across her pretty face.

#reader insert #x y/n #mean girls #janis mean girls #mean girls 2024 #janis ‘imi’ike #janis imike x reader #janis ‘imi’ike x reader #janis imike #anyone but her #tess and y/n

[byizoyas]

© byizoyas

SFW | academic rivals trope. | ayato x gn!reader | you never knew you craved to be this close to ayato, until you got forced into sharing a dance with him. or perhaps you’ve been in denial the whole time.

‘come on y/n… it could be fun.’

you sighed. the exasperation you were desperately fighting to hide could easily be read by anyone that would pass by you right now. so of course; your friend did not miss it.

‘i won’t force you to go but you’re going to miss something i swear.’

i won’t force you she said, but the way her eyes were looking at her own feet, with an imprint of sadness, was definitely not helping you denying her request. she probably knew what she was doing, but you couldn’t blame her for it, after all she never did anything wrong to you.

nothing wrong except taking you to parties you weren’t particularly fond of; and she wasn’t either, but she always felt the need to go there and since you’ve never been far from each other for long, you always followed her everywhere.

‘i don’t know ayaka, i hate dancing, and i’m awfully bad at it too.’ you tried to justify yourself, nervously laughing as if it would be less painful to hear.

she looked up, facing you and taking your hands in hers, a large smile slowly forming on her glossy lips as she suggested she’d teach you. ‘i can help with that.’

seeing her all enthusiastic, and cheerful made it even harder to refuse it now, which is why you ended up nodding yes. she threw herself into your arms, looking genuinely happy to the idea of sharing that prom ball with you; happier than you that’s for sure, but it wasn’t too bad seeing her this childish once in a while.

you could almost get used to it.

you were half listening to her plans for the night coming when the ring announcing the next classes echoed in the corridors of high school.

‘i’ve got math, i hope the lessons you helped me with are questioned today ! see you later y/n’

you waved goodbye at her before going back to your own classes. you sat on your usual place, next to the other kamisato sibling, the one your age, and also the one you despised.

‘good morning y/n, what interesting conversation did you share with my beloved sister earlier ?’ he asked, his eyes intensely staring at you.

his chin was lazily resting on the palm of his left hand while the other was playing with a pencil against the paper, making an annoying sound to your delicate ears.

‘that is none of your business.’

to that he only chuckled before looking back at the teacher who just showed up in front of you. y’all got up to greet her and her call voice gently allowed the whole class to sit back down.

‘is friendship the ideal form of relationship with others ?’

such question was always interesting to think of. it did speak to you, more than historical subjects, perhaps that was the one reason you were always listening more to your philosophy lessons.

‘does anyone have anything to say about our subject ?’ she asked, opening a debate between students.

the first ones to speak weren’t so invested, they have a few ideas and couldn’t find the way to describe them. only after a few minutes of silence that seemed like an eternity, did the blue haired guy you avoided finally spoke up.

‘loyalty is an important factor in a relationship. it gives respect and trust, which are two pillars of any relationship. however, friends are selfish. they do like you when they find something interesting about your person. if not, they simply won’t care about you and be moving on. i personally think no friendship will be as sincere as a familial bond, or a rivals relationship.’

‘what the fuck is the rivals thing doing here ?’ you exclaimed right after he gave his idea about today’s question.

‘y/n please, i appreciate that you’re invested in the debate, but watch your language will you.’ the teacher advised.

you indeed forgot you were assisting a lesson, with a whole class behind you and a teacher listening, it could’ve made you feel embarrassed, but you were too busy mentally hitting ayato for his arrogant attitude to feel that way, and so you only shrugged as a response.

‘rivals are more intimate than friends. but they are nothing more than rivals.’

‘this is where you, y/n, are wrong. rivals share so much more. they’re honest. they do not hide their own bad traits. they are competing, and what in the world is more beautiful than an equal, passionate combat between two hard workers ?’ he asked. but rather than a personal intervention, it seemed like the question was asked to you directly.

you raised your eyes, to look at him, and you both shared a tensed visual exchange. both your gazes were saying multiple things, yet none of you spoke up for the whole lesson. instead you simply looked at him, the same way he looked at you, wearing a provoking smile and crossing his arms as if it gave more impact to his attitude.

‘and then he looked at me the whole hour ?’ you concluded after telling ayaka everything that happened during the philosophy classes.

it always felt weird to talk about ayato with her. after all they shared the same blood, and here you were; complaining about him. but ayaka did assure you multiple times it was okay and well, you didn’t really have another person to tell this to.

‘yeah ayato likes to observe people. he says it’s to ‘understand what they’re made of’ she said almost making fun of her older brother.

she joined you on the living room, with two pieces of cake, sitting right next to you and turning on the television, even though you both knew you wouldn’t watch it.

‘this is for you. it’s from ayato’s birthday.’

‘oh, when was it ?’

ayaka frowned a bit, taking her phone from the table resting right next to her. ‘why do you even care ? don’t you hate him ?’ she added before taking a sip of her cold drink.

her question echoed in your mind. indeed, why did you care about such thing if you truly didn’t like him ?

also you started asking himself where he was, and just when your mind kept on thinking of him, his name appeared on ayaka’s phone.

‘hi ?’

‘is y/n home ?’

‘yes. why ?’

okay. just wanted to know, have fun, i will come back home in a few hours

‘’kay see you.’

and just like that she hung up. she put her phone down, looking back at you, who were sitting confused after hearing only her part of the conversation. but you did not ask anything. after all it might not be about you and you had to respect that.

the two of you kept on chilling, telling each other about your days, sometimes picking your phones and doing your own stuff in silence, only television to interrupt the dead silence in the room.

it could’ve felt awkward if it was with another person, but it was not with ayaka. you liked to be together even if it was only to use your phone.

‘shall we start training for the ball ?’ ayaka suddenly said, getting up to put on some music.

she handed out her hands to help you getting up from the comfortable couch you’ve been spending a few hours since you both left school.

after that, all you did was moving, following ayaka’s instructions wasn’t so easy. not that she was a bad teacher, she was great actually but you had difficulty keeping up with her rhythm.

she was clearly better than you at this. of course you knew she was going to be, she practiced dancing ever since she started walking. but it was still hard to see her feeling all good while you needed to drink water and take fresh air regularly.

only when she drained the energy out of you, did she choose to put on some slower music. she invited you to dance with her, and now that you were dancing in her arms, it felt way easier. you followed her steps attentively, careful not to step on her feet. just when you finally developed enough confidence to take the lead, did you hear a familiar voice calling out from behind.

‘hello y/n.’

you jumped and looked behind only to find ayato there, obviously enjoying himself over your flustered reaction.

‘that was a pretty nice view, do not care to stop for me.’ he calmly stated, his usual arrogant smile on his lips.

he was leaning against the living room door, legs crossed and hands buried in the pockets on his light beige pants. he was still wearing the school uniform and obviously just got home, only to find you and his sister dancing in the middle of the house.

‘we did not stop for you.’ ayaka spoke up for you. while the two siblings were arguing, you were standing there, smiling and laughing to the attacks both sides were throwing at each other.

they definitely had a true connection, since they fought like that often and ended up forgetting everything about it. they genuinely cared about each other.

and in a way, you cared about them too.

a long week had passed, and here you were, standing in the middle of the crowd, awkwardly unmoving. you were still not fond of dancing, even after learning with ayaka.

you did come together to that party, but she left with her flirt and left you all alone in this. of course you couldn’t blame them after you insisted for her to go. you truly didn’t want her to ruin her potential relationship with someone only for you; but now you were alone.

of course it was not long before someone you feared to meet here came to you.

‘are you feeling lonely ?’

you turned around only to be blessed by the sight of ayato. it wasn’t your classmate anymore nor your friend’s older brother. he was so elegant you could hardly detach your eyes from his silhouette.

‘earth to y/n.’ he said, waving his free hand a few times in front of your eyes, making you blink a few times before refocusing your attention on him.

‘hey.’

‘not being very much talkative mh ?’ he said, handing out a drink to you, which you took after hesitating.

of course you knew he wasn’t evil, only a bit arrogant at times but the two of you never shared a conversation outside the classroom.

you did talk to him a few times, but ayaka was there everytime. now you were finally alone. not that you waited for it, you pretty much fearing it, but now that he was there, perhaps you could make an effort.

‘happy belated birthday.’ was the first thing you found to say, which made him laugh. a soft laugh, almost as pretty as him.

‘it’s tomorrow, but thank you.’

‘but ayaka gave me your birthday cake’s piece.’

ayato looked in front of him, at the several people dancing, then in the direction of people screaming and as the music was getting louder, he leaned over you to make sure you heard him correctly. ‘we celebrated early because my parents are leaving inazuma soon.’

‘oh i see. what will you do on your birthday then ?’

ayato got lost in thoughts for a minute, then decided to tease you a bit. ‘i’ll study to be better than you.’ you were used to it, but in a sense it would always surprise you how bold he could be sometimes.

but what surprised you the most was your own audacity when you told him he’d spend his own day thinking of you instead of focusing on himself, which seemed to make him laugh.

‘perhaps you could study with me then.’ he suggested and just after you nodded yes, someone approached the two of you, taking your hands and leading you in the middle of the dance floor where no one was anymore.

‘congrats the two of you were the only ones standing, now you’re gonna steal the show.’ he shouted in the mic and the rest of the room followed, supporting the two of you.

you had been so busy listening and staring at ayato that you didn’t even hear the guy talking before when he said those who didn’t sit would have to dance for the others.

now you were stuck with him. after training with ayaka you did memorize a few moves, but your mind could only think of how good looking ayato was under the light and how good he smelt now that his body was so close to yours.

could it be that you felt something more ?

‘you’re absolutely splendid tonight. i had no idea you mastered these dancing moves too.’ ayato suddenly said, as he gently caressed the palm of your hand, pulling you closer to him in rhythm.

it did catch you off guard, and you couldn’t find anything to say, especially when his purple eyes that wore a mocking gaze most of the time were now looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

‘t-thank you.’ you only found to say, secretly wishing he didn’t catch your stuttering. but when his smile grew larger and his eyes looked back at yours, you knew.

you knew he heard it. he might never let you go with it. ‘where has your eloquent self been ? are they on a vacation ?’

he couldn’t help it. not teasing you was definitely not his thing, he preferred to make your life much worse. you looked away, in embarrassment. ‘shut up.’

he approached his lips to your ear, and the proximity between the two of you made your body shiver multiple times. you felt a thousand things that made your heart skip a beat or two. ‘i like it when you’re being vulgar, y/n’

the way he insisted on your name. his whispers and caresses. the music surrounding you, you could hardly focus on, too busy thinking of his breath on your skin and words.

you knew you got lost. he had you wrapped around his fingers, and he absolutely adored it. he slipped his second hand towards your waist and you abandoned yours on his shoulder, seizing your other hand and wrapping up your arms around his neck.

‘no friendship is as sincere as a rivals relationship’

you quoted him, just when you thought something was growing between the two of you. perhaps you were trying to reassure yourself too. perhaps you feared it to be one sided. could you even handle to feel romantic feelings for someone you thought you hated until now.

‘so you see us as rivals ?’ he asked. the tender in his voice was unusual and it did confused you a few times.

‘i don’t know.’

you genuinely didn’t know. a rival is what you always saw in ayato, but tonight something changed, or perhaps it was always there, and waiting for you to wake up and realize it.

ayato took a slight distance from you. his fingers traced your jawline until it reached your chin, locking it into two of his gloved fingers. both of you gulped at the same time. for a minute it seemed like everything surrounding you faded away, allowing a minute of peace.

a minute of love.

ayato’s face approached yours dangerously, and it seemed to be never ending. you closed your eyes, depriving yourself from one of your senses only to intensify another.

after only a second of waiting, his lips crashed onto yours. the kiss was long but felt so good too. it was soft. it was your first kiss too, and who would’ve thought kamisato ayato would be the one delivering it.

his right hand left your chin to slide through your hair. his touch was gentle, such as his kiss. and his other hand was softly caressing your naked shoulder, pulling you closer as if never wanting to let go of you.

you couldn’t hear well because of the loud music and the obvious shocked reactions of the crowd who was now looking at the two of you, kissing and dancing to a famous joji song; but you swore you heard him whisper a love confession.

‘to me, you’ve always been more than a rival. but never once did i consider you a friend. romantic feels have no place in friendships.’

author notes; i believe this is my first fic genshin ever (written i mean) idk if im comfortable w it bc I’ve been lazy to reread it fkwkdkk and perhaps there’s plenty of typo or grammar mistakes OR perhaps it’s shitty as hell or doesn’t make sense but i like it, i love soft ayato too he makes my heart melt

#byizoyas. #✦. . . gender neutral #֎. . .fluff/comfort #KAMISATO AYATO #ayato x y/n #ayato x reader #ayato x you #kamisato ayato x y/n #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #kamisato ayato fluff #ayato fluff #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff

[chicksung]

Slippin’ || P.JS

Genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, high school au, skater boy au, PG-15

Pairing: skater boy!jisung x tutor!reader

Word Count: 14.6k

Warnings: lots of swearing, underaged drinking, non explicit details of injury, kissing, she/her pronouns used, inaccuracy about skateboarding (i know nothing bare w me)

Synopsis: Three days a week, two teenage hearts, one boy to tutor and several missing assignments. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since you started tutoring the one and only park jisung, it’s that it’s not just his grades that are slippin

Sophie’s Salutations: OH SHE’S FINALLY HERE!! I am so so sorry for how overdue this fic is 😫 but she is finally here and I couldn’t be more happy to release it! A special thanks go to @lebrookestore​ for helping with formatting, editing and listening to me ramble and rant about this fic. Feedback is highly appreciated! 

playlist

Taglist: @lunaflvms @mora134340 @hanniejisungi @jisunglttlstar @yixingtion @flower-lise @mark-wife-renjun-whore @beemarkie @thesunsfullmoon @grassbutneo @jaeyunverse @lebrookestore @earth-to-that-asian @heartshyuck @jenotapes @fullbitchsun @sunfuls @duolingofanaccount @gyuwrites​ 

Prologue: The One and Only

“Do you know Park Jisung?”

God, at this point, who didn’t?

He was the boy who never said much, never paid too much attention, not even to the girls who gave him goo-goo eyes during class. To him, all that mattered was his bluetooth headphones, his god awful music taste and most of all, his skateboard. He spent more time mastering tricks on that damned piece of wood on wheels than he ever did studying. It would definitely explain his straight D’s on his semesterly report card.

It would also explain why you were asked to stay after class by your English teacher for a quick talk.

“I mean, I know of him. I wouldn’t say that I know him,” You answered, readjusting the strap of your backpack in an effort to dilute the awkwardness. She smiled gently, turning away from you to retrieve a brown folder from her desk. It was labelled in thick bold writing, most likely from a black permanent marker.

‘PARK JISUNG - MISSING ASSIGNMENTS’.

She thrusted the folder towards you and gave you a sad, sympathetic smile.

“Jisung is failing my class. No matter how much I’ve tried to engage him, he won’t listen to me,” she explained, watching you as you flicked through the familiar papers, “I’ve given him the highest grade I possibly could without any of the coursework, but it’s not enough.”

“Miss Barnes, with all due respect, what makes you think that I can help him pass?” You looked up at her, seeing her hopeful expression.

“Trust me, if there is anyone that can help a struggling student like Jisung pass this class, it’s you,” she placed her hand on the folder one last time before she grabbed her keys, “Good luck, Y/N.”

Luck? Yeah, god knows you would need it.

i. Miss Optimistic

“Are you Jisung?” You asked. Considering he was the only student who had their skateboard resting against the desk he had claimed as his own, and the only one who had a fringe long enough to act as a barrier between him and the outside world, you could only assume you had the right person.

He didn’t respond.

With furrowed brows, you repeated your question once again, but to no avail.

You bent over, the covers of your books pressing into your chest, and were met with strands of his hair in front of his partially closed eyes. Had it not been for the slight nodding of his head to a silent beat, you would’ve mistaken him for asleep. From this angle, you could see the dark cups of his headphones and you were going to take that as the reason he couldn’t hear you.

After another failed attempt to get his attention, you knew why it may not be the best first impression, desperate times call for desperate measures. With one swift movement, you yanked his headphones from his head and undoubtedly a few of his hairs too.

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed, looking up to you, an unfriendly scowl on his lips. You sighed, only pulling back the seat across from him.

“I did call your name at least three times,” you said emotionlessly, sinking into the plush seat and placing your belongings on the table.

“Whatever,” he said in annoyance, shaking his hair out of his eyes. In a desperate attempt to fix the impression, you held out your hand to him, inviting him for a handshake.

“I’m Y/N, your English tutor,” you introduced, the best expression you could offer him was an awkward lopsided smile. To your unpleasant surprise, Jisung laughed in your face. The mean and sarcastic manner he did only dwindled your hope of helping him.

“Miss Barnes set you up to this, didn’t she?” He ran his tongue over the fronts of his teeth, a possible habit you pondered.

“You seem like a smart girl, so let me give you some advice,” Jisung watched you in amusement as you leaned closer to him. “You’re wasting your time. You want my opinion? Take this back to Miss Barnes and we will never have to deal with each other again,” he pushed the folder back towards you, a smug smile on his face. You, determined not to be discouraged by some boy who cared more about a piece of wood than his grades, slammed the folder back down to prove your point.

“I will not. If I didn’t want to do this, I would’ve told her,” you told him matter-of-factly, opening the folder so the two of you could look at the contents of it.

“And what makes you think I care?” He asked, boredom lacing his words. You realised you weren’t making any progress with him, your mind frantically looking for a way to engage him.

“You know, Miss Barnes said that if you don’t pass her class, you’re gonna be held back a year,” you lied, keeping a cool and composed front, but behind your eyes, you were panicking and hoping he didn’t detect your lie. A long groan left his lips, slowly turning himself back to you.

“Fuck, fine. Fine. I’m listening,” he groaned, his hands raised on either side of his head like he was surrendering to the authorities. “What do I need to do?” Satisfied with how smoothly you managed to trick him, you started pulling out assignments and tests that Jisung had either failed or failed to turn in.

“This is the coursework you need to complete, and depending on whether or not you do well enough, the coursework you need to pass,” you explained, laying out each one on the table. Jisung ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh at the sight of the workload, stress becoming evident on his face. Most papers had been marked with a rather large ‘D’ or ‘D-’ and on the rare occasion, a ‘C-’. They weren’t exactly grades to be proud of, in fact, you found it quite disheartening that Jisung hadn’t even tried to reach out for help, but it was his own choice.

“It seems like a lot, I know, however, there’s still another quarter left until summer break. I’m sure we can get through this,” you offered him a friendly smile, but it was quickly rejected by a scowl.

“Right. Not to burst your bubble, Miss Optimistic, but I’m not exactly a good student, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he leaned forward, the scowl turning into a smirk, “and you expect me to finish this in a matter of weeks? Keep dreaming, sweetheart,” his mocking laughter made your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but this kid was getting on your nerves, and you were convinced he knew it too. Brushing off the pet name, you stared him down.

“If you want to be kept back a year, then that’s your decision, but if I were you, I’d rather not be the laughingstock of my friend group because I couldn’t keep my feet off a piece of wood with wheels. I’m here to help you, and you have a test next week, so you better start paying attention.” Another angsty teenage groan later and he straightened his posture.

“There. Are you happy now?” He complained, and in return, a sarcastic comment of your own.

“Ecstatic.”

ii. A Deal with the Devil™

“D+? Really, Jisung?” You scoffed as you looked over the results of his most recent English test, and it wasn’t exactly the turnaround you were hoping for. The black-haired boy could only shrug in response, obviously not too fussed by the result. “I literally went over these topics with you yesterday. How did you forget so quickly?” Again, you were met with a  shrug. With a groan, you threw the paper to the desk and pressed against the back of the chair.

“What went wrong?” You asked gently, not wanting him to feel guilty for his grade. Yet again, he shrugged.

“I don’t know. I just forgot,” he dismissed, his bangs covering his eyes. A long sigh fluttered past your lips as you glanced between Jisung and the test.

“Okay, let’s go over this step by step,” you said, twiddling your pen between your fingers, its nib pointing at the first question, “what is the difference between an adjective and adverb?” Jisung mumbled, but his voice was too deep for you to decipher what he was saying, “Park, speak up and clearly.” He cleared his throat and tried again.

“One describes a word, one describes a verb in particular,” he answered, which satisfied you. However, it was his written answer that disappointed you.

“So why did you explain a proposition instead?” You lost count of how many times he chose a wordless response over actually answering you, but it was better than being ignored. You didn’t understand why he didn’t just provide a reasonable explanation, but upon pondering this, you noticed Jisung wasn’t looking you in the eye. In fact, he wasn’t looking at you at all, and you didn’t have to follow his line of sight to see what he was looking at.

“You went to the skate park instead of studying again, didn’t you?” You deadpanned, biting the tip of your tongue to kill the long string of insults and pent-up frustration from flowing freely. “Jisung, if you want to pass, you can’t keep doing this,” you felt bad at the fact you sounded like a teacher scolding a misbehaving student, but given the situation, you both found yourselves in, it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

“Please, you think I want to?” He looked away and scoffed, as if he was trying his absolute hardest to stop himself from laughing in your face, “Listen here, sweetheart. Why should I have to suffer through something I find no joy or passion in, just to appease the capitalist views of society?”

His hands comfortably sat within each other, waiting patiently for your answer. His blunt yet pointed response, paired with the nickname that dripped with sarcasm, flustered you and rendered you speechless.

You gaped at him like a fish out of water, desperately trying to breathe again. Amused, he placed his pointer finger underneath your chin and forced your mouth shut, “Didn’t want you to catch flies,” he snickered as you swatted his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed, folding your arms across your chest, “then what? At this rate, we are making no progress. Surely, there is something I can do to engage you.” You admit, your approach was desperate and another teasing opportunity on his end but you were running out of options, and never once was one of them to quit.

“There is actually,” Jisung answered, clicking his fingers as a lightbulb went off in his head, “what is your view on skateboarding?” His question made you roll your eyes, which apparently was enough of an answer for him.

“Good, I know exactly how you can engage me.” He gestured to the skateboard that leaned in its usual spot against the desk, “if I do well on my next test, you come to the skatepark with me, at any given time.” You groaned, your eyes rolling so far back, Jisung was convinced you were looking at your brain.

“Seriously?” Of course, he chose the skatepark, what else would he have said?

“If I have to suffer through something I don’t like, so do you,” he smirked, unclasping his hand to stick one out towards you, “so do we have a deal?” He looked at you expectantly, stifling his laughter at your conflicted expression. Pushing all voices to the back of your mind, you completed the handshake, giving it one firm shake at that.

“Deal.”

What the fuck were you getting yourself into?

iii. only Idiots catch feelings

“He’s so annoying,” you ranted to your best friend as you paced around your room, practically ripping your hair out of your head. “He thinks he’s top shit, like he has this sort of power over me.”

“Well, from the state you’re in, he kinda does,” your best friend Wonyoung commented, having to hide her smile to avoid having a cushion throttled in her direction at a hundred miles an hour. You swiftly turned on your heel, squinting your eyes at her.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You interrogated, walking towards her. Wonyoung snorted with laughter behind your pillow, her only source of protection.

“Repeat everything you just listed off to me. Everything about him you find irritating,” she prompted, placing the pillow in her lap.

“Well,” you started, a little confused, “he’s never on time, he gets some sort of separation anxiety if his skateboard isn’t within his field of vision, he is constantly listening to this shitty underground artist and thinks it’s the greatest piece of media to grace this planet, he never studies, he always has this stupid smirk on his face, he keeps calling me ‘sweetheart’. The list goes on, what’s your point?” You couldn’t comprehend why Wonyoung was giving you such a strange look, not until she spoke.

“Someone has a little crush,” she teased. You picked up the teddy bear that sat at the end of your bed and threw it at her.

“What the fuck? No! Absolutely not!” You denied loudly, flabbergasted by her outrageous statement.

“Well, do you think he’s cute?” She asked, hugging the teddy close to her body. You froze, her words drowning out your sense of reality.

Jisung wasn’t unattractive, by any definition of the word. He was devilishly handsome, which went hand in hand with his devilish personality. In fact, he was quite popular with the girls at school, and he either flirted with them out of boredom or ignored them completely. Sure, he was cute, but to go as far as to say that you had a crush on him? No way, absolutely not. You scolded yourself for even entertaining the stupid idea.

“Earth to Y/N? You never answered my question,” Wonyoung reeled you out of your thoughts so fast, you swore you felt dizzy. You straightened your posture and folded your arms, ignoring how your heart was hammering in your heart.

“No,” you answered curtly, your voice certain and sharp. She snorted and looked at her phone, the fast tapping on its screen signifying that she was texting someone.

“Sure,” she raised her eyebrows with her unconvinced response, thankfully deciding to abandon teasing you. The conversation may have been over, but her words still swam in your head and mixed your thoughts and feelings into a strange concoction you could only describe as confused. Despite all the mixed feelings and incoherent thoughts, you concluded that you did not like Park Jisung.

Only an idiot would catch feelings for him.

iv. Nerds are NOT morning people

You didn’t understand why Jisung looked so smug when you came in for the first of three tutoring sessions for the week. He adorned his regular black hoodie, black ripped jeans that were more holes than style in your opinion, and white vans with the skeletal structure of a foot painted on them with black paint. The only difference you could pinpoint was his headphones hanging loosely around his neck, translating to he was listening for you, waiting for you. It was a foreign idea, and one you had mixed feelings on.

“You’re here,” he spoke first before you had even sat down.

“It does seem that way,” you quipped, moving to place your pencil case and book on the desk when you noticed a sheet of paper on the table. Curiosity tugged at your heart, your fingers gently pulling it towards you.

“What’s this? Did you put this here?” You questioned him as you picked it up, your heart thumping as you flipped it over. Your eyes focused on two things, his name written surprisingly neatly at the top of the page and the large 72.5% marked at the top of the page. Your jaw dropped dramatically as you stared at the red number, and you could feel Jisung’s eyes boring into you, his smirk undoubtedly growing wider.

“I believe I recall a certain someone promising that she’ll come to the skatepark with me if I passed my next English test,” he spoke, cockiness coating every word he spoke like chocolate-dipped strawberries. You slammed down the paper, your face showing utter disbelief.

“How? How did you-” you stammered and stuttered before Jisung shut you up.

“You told me to study, so I did. Are you pleased?” Pleased would be a stretch. You were beyond ecstatic but you couldn’t properly express it, still trying to get over the shock of the whole situation.

“Jisung, that’s a B grade,” you stated stupidly, your speech granting you the ability to finally able to formulate full sentences. He cocked a singular eyebrow, smirking in amusement.

“Does that mean you’ll come to the skatepark for the whole week?” He pushed, testing your limits. You glared at him.

“What? No? Well, I-Maybe? Fuck, fine!” You knew you might grow to regret your decision but you would come to that consequence when it came around.

“Gimme your phone. You’re gonna need my number in that case.”

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Oh lord. The time had come. You groaned tiredly, rolling over to check the rather loud notifications on your phone.

demon spawn: hey

demon spawn: i’m at the skatepark

demon spawn: i expect u here in 10

You slammed your phone back down onto the nightstand, looking up at the time. 5:41 am. The numbers glared at you in their bright red light. You refrained from throwing a fit in the bed, in fear of waking your family.

You silently resented yourself (and Jisung too) for dragging yourself out of bed at five am on a Saturday because of a stupid bargain you made with a failing student just so he would study. He passes a singular test and thinks he’s on top of the world. Smartass.

“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you pulled on a warm jacket and silently slipped out the front door. You momentarily worried about how you were going to explain yourself to your parents when they realised that their child was not residing within the warm covers of her bed, but eventually abandoned the idea when you started to think about the possible consequences that would be in place. It was still dark outside, and the early morning air was cold, cold enough that it quickly numbed the tip of your nose.

Whilst recounting the last ten minutes of your life, your mind became a forest and you were very, very lost. You walked, and walked, and walked. You would’ve kept walking if it hadn’t been for the voice that called out to you.

“Is the skatepark that hard to spot?” The familiar voice that belonged to the one and only, Park Jisung. Grey beanie, white shirt, the classic ripped jeans, however switching out his regular black for blue, and black Converse, a style you had never seen on him.

“You know, judging from your personality, I never took you like a morning person,” you teased as you rubbed your eyes, an attempt to dispel the last of the sleep from them. Jisung snickered at your remark, stomping on the end of his skateboard to flick it upwards.

“Applying that logic, I never took you as someone who wasn’t. Aren’t nerds, like, supposed to like mornings?” You scoffed at his side smirk, crawling up the skate he was standing on.

Having only seen him hunched over on the cushioned chairs in the library, you hadn’t realised how tall Jisung really was, around 6’, 5’11 at the very least.

“There’s a reason I brought you out so early,” he announced, breaking your train of thought.

“You mean at the ass crack of dawn,” you quipped grumpily but listened closely for his explanation.

“Whatever you wanna call it, drama queen,” he rolled his eyes, shifting his skateboard to the edge of the dip, so his back wheels were touching the silver tube-like barrier, “but I wanted to show you the sunrise over the city. Thought it would be pretty,” he shrugged slightly, his eyes cast back to you.

“Really? You dragged me out of bed at a ridiculous hour of the morning to watch the sunrise?” You huffed, feeling annoyance rise in your chest, yet when he looked at you like that, you couldn’t channel that annoyance towards him.

“Well, and this,” Jisung winked as he placed his left foot at the front of his skateboard and he fell into the bowl. Picking up speed as he whizzed towards the other side of the bowl, he shot his hand out, catching the piping, the other hand holding onto his board as he turned it and his body to you, zipping in the same direction in which he came from. He slid back into the position he originally held next to you as if he weighed nothing as if he had the dynamics of a feather in the wind. You looked up to him, clearly impressed with his stunt.

“Wow,” was all you could muster, making Jisung laugh. Not snicker, not sneer, but genuinely laugh, as if he had just watched a puppy fall over itself from excitement.

“I can do it again if you’d like,” he suggested, which was met with a positive reaction. You sat down, your feet dangling into the bowl as you watched him excitedly skate around the cemented pit. Your eyes followed him, drinking in every trick and stunt he pulled. An unknown smile broke across your lips, one that contained no nasty emotions, hidden by a sickly sweet facade.

Your heart gave a flutter when he skated past you and flicked his hair out of his eyes. Your previous annoyance had evaporated into nothingness and was replaced with something completely new, something different. Due to your nature of order and organisation, you didn’t like different. It threw off your whole balance and it would take a while to rebuild the balance you once had, now with the added weight of whatever ruined everything in the first place. However, this difference felt sweet, it warmed you against the chilly early December air. It felt safe, a homely feeling.

Still intoxicated by this feeling, you glanced to the sky, noticing that the previous deep navy that was littered with tiny stars had been broken up by streaks of burnt orange, pink and white.

“Jisung!” You called to him, pointing to the sky. The boy in question whipped his head around, almost slipping off his skateboard from his lack of concentration on the concrete he was skating along. You stifled a laugh and patted the empty space beside you, inviting him to fill it. He smiled softly, clamouring up the steep bowl and accepting your invitation.

“I understand why you wanted to show me now,” you sighed, shifting all your weight onto the palms of your hands. Jisung nodded wordlessly, mimicking your position. His feet kicked to and fro, an absentminded habit of his as his gaze shifted from the sky to you. He noted every feature of your side profile, specifically how the sunrise gave you a heavenly glow as if you weren’t a mere human being beside him, but in fact an angel. He examined every part of your face that was so uniquely yours.

“It’s so beautiful,” he breathed. You nodded, agreeing with him, but you didn’t see the context he was speaking in. Jisung knew it wouldn’t be long before you caught him, choosing to glance at his watch instead. “It’s nearly 7. We should probably leave before your parents realise you’re missing,” he commented, expertly hiding his reluctance to end this moment. You let out a deep but short sigh.

“Time flew,” you noted, stretching as you stood up, brushing the dust off your backside, “wait, what about your parents?”

“They won’t be out of bed until at least 9. They probably haven’t even noticed that I’m not at home,” he shrugged, tucking his skateboard under his arm, “and because of that, let me walk you home.” The bluntness of his request spooked you. You didn’t think it could even be classified as a request.

“Jisung, that’s not necessary-”

“Nonsense. I dragged you out here, let me at least take you home.” Your heart gave a soft squeeze at his words, and you knew you couldn’t turn him down. You pointed him in the direction of your house and set off down the path together.

You walked in silence, partly awkward, partly not. It was as if you had spent every word in your vocabulary on each other and neither of you had a new word to say. The chill was still by and froze the tips of your ears. Jisung noticed you trying to rub your ears, as you would your hands, to warm them up. Without skipping a beat, he tugged his beanie off his head and offered it out to you.

“Here,” he muttered, his long fingers holding it loosely.

“Oh,” you whispered before breaking into nervous chuckles, “it’s fine. I don’t need it,” you held up your palm to push it back towards him, but he shoved it back.

“I insist,” he declared, his eyebrows raised expectedly. You groaned a small ‘fine’ and snatched the beanie from your hand, pulling it onto your head. Jisung let out a chuckle, tugging at the side so it properly covered your ears. You fell back into the silence and completed the journey to your house. You stopped outside the small wooden gate that allowed access to the front yard and the pretty garden. You turned on your heel and gave Jisung a small lopsided smile.

“Thanks,” you said, stumbling over your words and thoughts to say anything more than that. He nodded and smiled back. You bowed your head to take off his beanie before he stopped you.

“Keep it,” he insisted, “I’ve got plenty more at home. Besides, it looks better on you.” His words heated your cheeks, convincing you that if it were to start snowing right now, the snowflakes that landed on your cheeks would melt at first contact.

“O-Okay. I’ll see you later,” you smiled at him one last time before lifting the latch of the gate and walking towards the front door. Jisung nodded and spun on his heel, impulsively crossing the street towards his best friend Jeno’s house.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, opening up your text messages with Wonyoung.

y/n only: fuck you. you were right. i think i am catching feelings

Satisfied with your sudden declaration to your best friend, you pushed open the front door. No sooner did you step through the threshold, than did you feel your heart stop dead.

“So,” your father started, “do you wanna tell us where you’ve been so early in the morning?”

v. Studying (your face)

You had dodged a bullet with your parents, the only punishment you received was to wash the dishes for the next two weeks without complaint. A single complaint would result in not leaving the house for however long they saw fit. However, you weren’t too distraught about not hanging out with Wonyoung, but more about the tutoring sessions with Jisung.

Ever since that morning in the skatepark, your feelings about the skater had been mixed around and twisted. Sure, he was annoying, and boy, did he make sure to remind you, but it didn’t seem to bother you as much as it used to. You found it charming if you defined charming as the stupidly irritating characteristic someone has that you learn to tolerate.

As ‘charming’ as he may be, he still had assignments that were missing and needed to be done, whether he liked it or not. He still had to hold up his half of the deal.

You shifted from one foot to the other anxiously, waiting for someone inside to answer your timid knock at the door. Your palms felt slick with sweat, why were you so nervous? Maybe it was because Jisung had randomly texted you, asking if you could study at his place instead. His excuse was ‘a change of scenery’ or something like that.

Your ears pricked up at the sound of shuffling behind the door. The door creaked open and revealed a petite middle-aged woman, presumably Jisung’s mother.

“Oh, you must be Jisung’s friend,” she smiled, one that perfectly replicated her son’s.

“Yes. I’m Y/N. It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Park, I assume,” you extended your arm for a handshake, which she graciously returned.

“Yes. It’s so good to meet you too. Jisung doesn’t bring many friends over, aside from Jeno and Chenle. It’s nice to see a new face,” you felt your cheeks heat up over her words and you nodded.

“Speaking of, where is Jisung?” You asked politely, leaving your shoes by the door. Mrs. Park pointed up the staircase, her other hand ghosting over your shoulder.

“Up the stairs, third door on the right. There’s a sign with his name on it if you get lost.” You thanked her and trekked your way upstairs.

The decor was enough to tell anyone that entered the home that the Parks were a happy family. The wall beside the stairs was lined with family photos, ranging from the perfect nuclear family of a mother, father, and two boys; to sporting events, family gatherings, and birthday celebrations. It blended in perfectly with the white paint on the walls, with not a scratch or smudge of dirt in sight.

You reached the top of the stairs and spotted Jisung’s room immediately. A small sign was tacked at eye level to the door that read, unsurprisingly, ‘Jisung’s Room’ in childlike font, a glimmer of his childhood innocence shining through his hard outer appearance.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in,” his voice called from inside. You cracked the door open to see Jisung, one earphone embedded in his ear, a pen in between his fingers, and a small smile curved on his plump lips. “Took your time,” he teased as he paused his music.

“Interrupt study time, did I?” You teased back, placing your bag at his door.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he gave you a sly smile as he tugged the other earphone out and swung his chair around to you.

“Right,” you strung out the sound, paired with a sarcastic nod of your head. You leaned over, doing a quick once over of his desk, disappointed but not surprised when you found Jisung had not been writing out the notes you had set for his homework, but in fact, he had been writing what seemed like poetry on several different pieces of paper.

“Really, Jisung? I gave you one job,” you exasperated, collecting the pages to get a better look at it. Before you had a moment to decipher his almost illegible handwriting, he snatched them out of your hand.

“Don’t look at those!” He squawked, pulling them out of your reach, his cheeks colouring a dark pink. His reaction had caught you off-guard.

“Jisung, they’re just sheets of paper,” Jisung shook his head at your claim.

“To you, maybe,” he corrected curtly.

“What are they, then?” He opened the drawer of his desk, messily shoving the papers inside.

“It’s not important right now,” he dismissed harshly before seating himself on the end of his bed. You occupied his desk chair and cleared a spot to place your book and folder.

“Alright,” you began, retrieving an assignment from the folder, Jisung’s name etched on the paper in his teacher’s handwriting, “this is the next assignment you’ve been set, well reset,” you explained, watching his fingers steal the paper from your fingertips. He skimmed over the task outline, his eyebrows furrowing the more he read.

“Short story task?” He deadpanned, glancing at you over the paper. You shrugged at his apparent annoyance.

“I can give you some ideas,” you suggested, swivelling around to grab your book, accidentally nudging a pencil of sorts off the desk. Cursing under your breath, you leaned down and collected it off the ground. As you went to place it back on the desk, you noticed the gold inscription on it. ‘Salem Black Eyeliner Pencil’. You spun back around to the boy sitting not a metre away from you. You flicked your gaze between Jisung and the pencil. How had you not noticed?

“Are you wearing eyeliner?” You asked, amused. He snapped his neck towards you, seeming just as amused.

“Yes I am. Is there a problem?” He mused, going back to the rubrik in front of him.

“No, just didn’t expect you to wear it,” you admitted, twiddling it between your fingers.

Jisung shrugged, “It makes me look cool.” You cocked an eyebrow at his comment and scoffed.

“News flash, Park. Wearing eyeliner isn’t a personality trait,” you taunted. Jisung laughed quietly, leaning closer to you.

“Have you ever worn it?” He was met with silence, “No? Too much of a goody two shoes?”

“I-It’s not like that-”

“Then let me put it on you.”

You have no idea what compelled you to say yes. Maybe it was the cute way his lips turned up at the thought of you wearing eyeliner. Maybe it was the sparkle in his eye, or maybe it was just because you simply could no longer say no to him. You were now sitting opposite him, your hands resting in your lap and bumping knees with him. His left hand held your jaw to prevent your head from moving too much.

“Keep your eye open and look up,” he instructed, pointing to his roof, helping you notice the twenty or so glow-in-the-dark stars tacked to it. He began his fiddly work, keeping his hand as still as possible so as to not poke you in the eye. Your bottom eyelid spasmed from the sudden contact of the sharp pencil to it.

“Do I really need to tell you to stay still?”

“Sorry.”

Jisung’s finger wiped across his work, smudging and blending it a little, again causing your eye to twitch. He leaned away for a second to study his handiwork. You watched as a grin painted onto his pretty lips. Did you just call his lips pretty?

“Y/N,” your friend breathed, “you’re staring.”

“Am I?” You stuttered, your cheeks heating, clearly embarrassed. Jisung didn’t say anything, choosing to lean in closer. Your noses were millimetres away. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. As if on cue, Jisung’s gaze dropped from your eyes to your lips. Hesitantly, he slipped his hand along your jawline and cupped it gently. You would’ve squeaked had your voice not failed you.

Slowly, your lips touched his in a gentle kiss. It was hesitant, sweet, and filled with teenage exploration. Feeling him kiss back, your hand fell on top of his and added to the sweetness of the kiss. Your lips moved in sync with one another, each movement more heart-fluttering than the one before. Jisung pulled away reluctantly, the sparkle in his eye growing brighter with astonishment.

“Woah,” was all he could manage to say.

“Woah indeed,” you gave a breathless chuckle, your lips stretching into a smile. Jisung nodded before turning back to his paper, now a little crinkled.

“You should probably go home. It’s getting dark and you’re already on thin ice with your parents,” he advised, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Nodding, you climbed off his bed, stacking your belongings on top of each other before pressing them against your chest.

“If you need any help with the assignment, you have my number,” you rattled off as you picked up your bag from the door, “oh, and Jisung?”

He raised his eyebrows at his name, “Hmm?”

“Thank you,” you said bashfully, “for doing my eyeliner and, you know,” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, but he knew the silent words that died on the tip of your tongue.

“Anytime,” he winked and with one last giddy smile from you, you left the room.

Jisung let go of an unknown breath, slumping into his desk chair and opening his drawer. He retrieved the papers he had hastily stuffed away. His eyes lazily glided over the words, thoughts and rhymes messily scribbled onto the page.

He promised himself that he was going to rewrite it in a manner that was readable, but that’s what made it so precious to him. The raw emotion and scrambled thoughts were poorly printed, words crossed out for various reasons, the simple doodles that decorated the white space in between.

He exhaled again, picking up his pencil, searching for a blank space to fill in at least one thought. The scratching of an HB pencil against paper was satisfying to Jisung, but not as satisfying as the sound of the pencil nearly bouncing off the table from how hard he slammed it down. He gave a peaceful smile as he reread what he had written, the words flowing from his lips effortlessly.

“If only you knew how my heart races for you, Y/N.”

vi. Complicated

“Wonyoung, you know I’m not a party person,” you reiterated to your friend. She was begging and pleading for you to accompany her to the seasonal party she attended.

“Please Y/N, Jaemin’s gonna be there and I don’t want to show up by myself. I’ll look like a loser.”

“You’re gonna look like a loser either way,” you teased lightheartedly, tossing your phone to the side.

“Hey, that’s not nice. I’m practically your older sister,” she furrowed her brows at you.

“What’s in it for me?” You groaned, propping yourself up on one elbow to better glare at your friend.

“I heard Jisung might be there,” she gave you a suggestive eyebrow raise, “he’s skating buddies with Jeno, so knows Jaemin by association,” she continued. She was dead set on having you attend this party with her.

“Ugh. You know what? Fine,” you caved, your best friend’s face lighting up like a golden sunrise.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?” She squealed, tackling you in a hug.

You snickered, “Only when you get your way.”

“Oh, do not. Now, come on. We need to get ready,” she pranced around the room like a child on Christmas morning and you had to laugh at her ridiculously high energy. The things you do for friendship.

When you pulled up to the address of this party, your jaw hit the floor. The ‘house’ was more like a mansion and was like a sister location to the White House. The outside’s plain exterior was decorated with LED lights, displayed from hidden projectors, and you could already hear the bad EDM music blaring from within.

“W-Whose party is this again?” You asked your friend in a state of shock.

“It’s Donghyuck’s, but Chenle’s parents are out of town for the weekend, so he offered up his place,” you understood why Hyuck wouldn’t pass up on such a gracious offer. You felt like a fish out of the water as you walked along the cobblestone pathway to the entrance. You forgot what made you say yes to this, but you refused to believe that was by the mention of a boy’s name and informing you of his attendance.

Before you could work out what to do, Wonyoung had been dragged away by people who you assumed were friends of hers, leaving you alone at the threshold.

“Congrats on your first party,” you mocked to yourself, a hint of fear behind your words. This is not what you were about. You were all rules and dress codes, expectations, and high grades. Certainly not cramped spaces and sweat, loud music, and underage drinking.

You weaved through the sea of strangers, faces blurring together beyond recognition. You had no idea where you were going, looking around desperately for someone to stand out to you. It wasn’t until you fled to one of the many hallways that you finally did.

Ripped jeans, customised Vans, a silver chain, and a tank top of a band he definitely didn’t listen to. That was Park Jisung to a T. He hadn’t noticed your appearance, wrapped up in a conversation with three girls you didn’t recognise. You assumed they were friends of his. You took note of the phone in his hand, the Mickey Mouse cover confirming that it was undoubtedly his. You pulled out your own and typed out a quick text under his name.

y/n only: look behind you, dummy

You saw him crane his head away from the conversation to check the new notification. He squinted as he read it before turning around, looking around like a lost puppy. His lips curved into a grin that pushed up into his cheeks when his eyes fell on you.

“You were the last person I thought would show up,” he greeted you with a side-on hug, one you reciprocated. You let out a breathy laugh.

“So did I,” you explained, “my friend dragged me here.” He nodded as he tried his best to hear you over the thump of the music, loud enough to resonate in your chest. He hadn’t dropped his arm from around you, somewhat pulling you into him and allowing you to inhale the intoxicating amount of cologne he had. You weren’t going to voice your complaints, it did have a pleasant aroma to it, one that you could get used to.

“Judging by how you dressed, you’ve never been to a party,” he poked fun, looking over it. Embarrassed, you pulled your top down a bit.

“Blame Wonyoung. She convinced me to wear it,” Jisung broke out in a smile, his hand trailing down your arm.

“It’s fine. You look good,” he commented, “did you want a drink?”

Your eyes blew wide. “Jisung! Neither of us is old enough,” you sputtered, shocked beyond words. He couldn’t help but laugh at your naivety.

“Thank you for reminding me,” he said with gentle sarcasm, “it’s really not that bad.” You shook your head.

“My parents would kill me if they found out I’ve been drinking,” you declined, resulting in a snicker from your friend.

“Goody-two-shoes,” he teased.

“Lawbreaker,” you quipped, albeit weakly. Jisung shrugged and looked into the swarm of people.

“I’m gonna grab one. Wait for me, okay?” His hand came up slowly, his index finger gently brushing against your cheek. The small action was enough for butterflies to erupt and flutter in your stomach. He stared at you for a moment longer before dipping his head downwards and pressing his lips against your forehead. You felt like a malfunctioning robot, unable to process and turning you into a giddy mess as he disappeared into the ocean of strangers. Amidst your flustered state, you hadn’t noticed the three girls Jisung had been talking to before he ditched them to talk to you instead. The daggers they stared into the side of your head were sharp, burning hotter than your cheeks. It wasn’t until you heard voices that you saw them, ogling you like three hungry wolves hunting the same rabbit.

“Is that her?” One muttered to the rest of the group. You weren’t sure if they were trying to be discreet, but if they were, it certainly wasn’t working.

“Has to be. Did you see how quickly he left the conversation? He never acts like that towards any of us,” another whined, her arms folded over her chest and her bottom lip jutted out like a spoiled brat who had been told no.

“Right? He saw her and suddenly we didn’t exist,” the third one rolled her eyes, shooting you a side glance, “I don’t know what he sees in her. What does she have that we don’t already offer him?

Your heart hit the floor at her words. You had honestly forgotten how popular Jisung was, especially when it came to the ladies. You remember your friends referring to him and his friends as ‘heartthrobs’ and ‘stupidly attractive’.

With that in mind combined with what you had heard, you reevaluated your social status compared to him. How much higher he was on the social ladder than you, how he was compared to a god on a skateboard, and you were compared to nothing more than dirt under his mostly pristine Vans.

The thought of it all was sickening. Suddenly, your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear, the hallway felt like it was collapsing around you, and the butterflies started to lodge into your throat like bile. You shouldn’t be here. You don’t belong here.

Fragments of thoughts collided in your mind, each one a ridiculous question with no solid explanation. With every person you bumped into, a new thought would project itself into your mind like a lottery, and with every ‘sorry’ you muttered, you would compare that thought to the situation you currently found yourself in.

The atmosphere was suffocating, the heat from the attendants mixed with the amount of sweat in the air made you feel flushed, in some sort of drunken daze, despite not having tasted alcohol in your life. Your sights were set on the door, your one way ticket out of here without having to consider the window as an option.

Between his conversation with Chenle, Jisung caught something moving from the corner of his eye. Normally, he would’ve ignored it, waved it off as someone desperately trying to make it to a bathroom for whatever reason. However, something about it made him turn his head, and his eyes landed on you. You seemed skittish, unwell. He swore he hadn’t been gone more than five minutes.

“Hold that thought, and my drink,” he thrust his aforementioned drink into his best friend’s hands and rushed after you. He shouted your name over the music, his calls falling on deaf ears.

He squeezed and pushed through people in an attempt to catch up to you. Winter’s freezing breeze brushed against his cheeks, the sensation enough to make him shudder.

“Y/N, slow down,” he called after you and you stopped in your tracks.

“I’m going home,” you told him, refusing to look behind you. You couldn’t bear to look at him, knowing that if you did, you would come face to face with the reason those girls had talked about you in the first place.

“I know the first party can be intimidating, but it’s not all that bad. Trust me. I can show you,” he continued, his hand resting on your shoulder. You slapped it away.

“The party? This has nothing to do with the party,” you hissed at him, throwing him a sour look over your shoulder, “this has got everything to do with your little fanclub.” Jisung furrowed his brow in thought, recalling the situation.

“Mina, Hyejung and Yoonah?”

“I’m guessing so. I don’t know who they are,” you swallowed.

“That doesn’t make sense. Sure, they may be a bit thick, but I’m sure they didn’t mean it that way,” he defended, though his tone was gentle.

You scoffed, “I find that hard to believe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He glared through squinted and harsh eyes.

“It’s supposed to mean that they helped me realise something,” you worded it vaguely.

“Care to enlighten me?” Sarcasm dripped from his words as if to hide the toxic venom behind them.

“They made me realise how girls act around you. Pretty girls. Girls who are aware they have a sliver of a chance with you. Girls that aren’t like me,” a singular tear slipped down your face. How cliché of you, “They were right. What do I have that they don’t already? I’m not worthy enough to even stand in your shadow.”

Jisung could only look on as tears fell like falling stars down your cheeks. He hated this. He hated seeing you like this, he hated this cold winter night and even a twinge of hate towards Jeno for convincing him to come along. The feeling was mutual between the both of you.

“I hate you, Park Jisung,” you hissed bitterly before walking up the path you had come from not twenty minutes beforehand.

Jisung silently watched you, the girl he had applied eyeliner to and kissed in his bedroom just days before, walk away from him. He felt empty, void of any and all emotion. The alcohol in his system mixed with the headache-inducing music and what just played out in front of him was enough to make him feel nauseous. He trudged back inside, mood noticeably dampened.

“Hey, what was that about?” Chenle questioned, his concern for his best friend grew when he walked past him and grabbed his skateboard.

“I’m going home. If anyone asks, I’m feeling sick,” his words were rushed, distracted.

“Dude, you can’t just say that and expect me not to be worried,” Chenle’s brows furrowed, spinning Jisung round by his shoulders, “what’s going on?”

“I’ve fucked up, man. I’ve fucked up big time.”

vii. you have one (1) new voicemail

“Hey, this is Y/N! I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m out living my life, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as I can!”

“Hey Y/N. It’s me, Jisung. A-Again. Look, I know you’re still upset at me, but please. Surely we can talk this out. Please call me when you get this. If you pick up and actually listen-or text me! Anything. Please. Bye.”

Jisung’s throat went dry when he heard your voice again. It was happier than it was the last time he encountered you. You hadn’t spoken to him since the party, whether it was at school, or through texts and missed calls.

You had started cancelling tutoring sessions for reasons he described as ‘bullshit’. Feeling unwell, even though he had seen you looking glowing and healthy that very same day, was your most recent excuse. It was one you had used previously, maybe because people tended to sympathise when they find out someone is sick. He didn’t like being lied to, but he can’t say he blamed you. Hell, he’d be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t used the excuse to get out of things he didn’t want to do.

However, this wasn’t some church activity his mother had signed him up for and he wasn’t eleven years old anymore. He was a high school student, a failing one at that, and his tutor, the girl he liked, refused to speak to him.

“Hey, this is Y/N! I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m out living my life, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as I can!”

“Hey. It’s me again. I wanted to follow up on when our next session will be. I have a test coming up and I’d really love it if you helped me study. Please return my calls or messages. Bye.”

“I know she’s upset, but I just don’t understand,” Jisung confided in his closest friend and partner in crime (sometimes quite literally) Chenle, “I don’t know how to fix it if she doesn’t speak to me.” Chenle nodded, pretending he understood the heartache his friend was going through.

“Have you tried approaching her? Like, at school or something?” Chenle asked, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

Jisung shook his head. “What am I supposed to say? ‘I know we’re fighting right now but let’s talk about that’?” Chenle gave him an apologetic smile and gave him the classic “maybe” shoulder shrug, hands positioned out and all.

“Helpful,” he rolled his eyes, falling back into his mattress and gazing at his ceiling.

“What did she say that night?” Chenle questioned, copying Jisung’s actions and laying next to him. His memory worked too quickly than he wanted to admit. The memory was stuck on replay in his mind, and had been for the past two weeks.

“She said something about pretty girls always falling at my feet. Made a comment that she wasn’t part of that category. How she wasn’t ‘worthy of being in my shadow’,” he made the air quotations as he recited his memory. Chenle hummed, the cogs whirring in his brain.

“So she feels unworthy of your attention?” He wanted to make sure he had Jisung’s story straight.

Jisung shrugged, “I guess so. In case you forgot, she hasn’t spoken to me since,” he said sarcastically and exhaled so harshly, his fringe flew upwards and stuck up awkwardly.

“She can’t ignore you forever. Especially if she’s your tutor,” Chenle offered, lifting himself up onto his elbows, now able to make eye contact with his best friend.

The best friend in question only sighed, muttering a ‘yeah’ before pulling his lips in a tight lipped smile, a habit of his.

The hours ticked by. Chenle had long returned home, leaving Jisung to his own thoughts and devices, probably the worst mistake anyone could make right now. His bedroom was completely dark, only the glow of his phone screen and the pale moonlight that shone through his window illuminated the small space.

He was staring at your contact. He hadn’t changed it since the day he logged it into his phone. The same stupid nickname with the same stupid emojis on either side of aforementioned nickname.

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for him. You were one button click away, and yet he felt butterflies lodge in his throat, knowing the rejection that lay on the other end of the line. Jisung was strong, but temptation’s urges were stronger than anything he had ever encountered. He chewed on his fingernail nervously as the line rang. To no one’s surprise, you did not answer.

“Hey, it’s Y/N. I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m out living my life, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as I can!”

Before he could speak, he was surprised to learn that you had changed your voicemail.

“If this is Jisung…please stop calling me. Just don’t call me.”

viii. F in Feelings

Sunshine bathed the hallway Jisung trudged down, juxtaposing the horrible feeling that sat at the bottom of his stomach. He hadn’t tried to contact you since the last time he tried. That was nearly a week ago, and right now, he was scheduled for a progress meeting with Miss Barnes. He hadn’t done much with his schoolwork.

You kept cancelling sessions in the library, he had passed his English test by the skin of his teeth, and his grades were, once again, slipping.

As he walked, Hyejung and Yoonah appeared at his side.

“Jisungie!” Hyejung squealed, the nickname and pitch of her voice making Jisung grimace, “We haven’t seen you since Donghyuck’s party!”

“Yeah,” he said dismissively, trying to walk away.

“Oh come on, Jisung,” Yoonah whined, grabbing him by the cuff of his jacket, “we should hang out soon. Now, even.”

“I have to get to class,” he hissed, swiftly shaking off Yoonah’s manicured hand. Both girls looked at each other, both confused and shocked.

“Come skip with us, Jisung. Pretty please?” She batted her eyelashes at him, which only repulsed him further.

“I said no, Yoonah,” he reiterated bitterly, readjusting his backpack.

Hyejung scoffed, “What has gotten into you?”

“Yeah, since when have you been like this?” Yoonah added.

Jisung furrowed his brow, “Like what?”

“You’re telling me you actually want to go to class?” Forced laughter rang throughout the hallway, “You’re so funny, Jisung. Did you know that?”

“Like what?” Jisung repeated through gritted teeth.

“Like a nerd! You’re acting like a nerd. Are you trying to suck up to teachers so they’ll fix your grades?” Hyejung went to slap his shoulder in laughter, but he batted it away harshly. She hissed in pain (Jisung knew she was faking it. She just liked his attention) and looked to him, confused.

“What the fuck? Jisung, I-” Jisung cut her off.

“A nerd? Is that what you called Y/N?” That name. It felt heavy on his tongue, foreign even.

The girls looked confused, “Y/N?”

Jisung nodded curtly. “The reason I have been avoiding you lot is that you hurt her. She heard you talking about her and now she won’t talk to me,” he confessed venomously, anger rising quickly in his chest. His chest ached as he thought of you, the hurt expression you wore that night on the cobblestone path. Anger and hurt are a lethal combination.

“For your own selfish gain, you put someone else down, someone else who I care deeply for. How stupid and self-centred do you have to be to act so recklessly?” His words were like bullets, forceful enough to pierce through skin and loud enough to attract the attention of other students going about their day, “you want to do me a favour? Fuck off.”

The two girls stood before him bug-eyed, and with one final warning from him, they scampered away, their tails between their legs.

Jisung readjusted his backpack one last time before continuing down the hall to Miss Barnes’ classroom whilst occasionally throwing warning glares at students who were staring a little too long.

If he wasn’t upset before, he was now seething. The audacity they had was laughable.

Self-centred, airheaded idiots.

He knocked on the door, catching his teacher’s attention.

“Jisung, you’re here,” she smiled brightly and gestured to one of the two chairs placed neatly in front of her desk, “take a seat.” He nodded and accepted her invitation. “Now, we’re just waiting on Y/N,” she announced, plopping down in her chair and starting to remove his assignments from his folder.

“I’m not sure if she’ll come,” Jisung muttered, swallowing thickly. Miss Barnes looked up, concerned and a little confused.

“Whatever do you mean?” He felt his mouth dry out at her confusion. She doesn’t know.

“Ah well, you see, Y/N and I-”

“I heard my name.” Speak of the devil.

“Y/N, so lovely of you to join us,” Miss Barnes smiled, repeating the gesture she made to him when he had first entered the room. You reciprocated the smile and took your place next to Jisung. He swallowed thickly, deciding it best if he didn’t look at you. Did it make him look like a dickhead? Maybe, but he wasn’t ready to turn into a flustered, sobbing mess in front of his teacher.

“So, how has the tutoring been going?” She wasn’t asking him, she was asking you.

You visibly hesitated. What tutoring? There hadn’t been any for weeks, and it was obvious in Jisung’s grades as of recent. Your facade was faltering, and you needed to keep it up for the next few minutes of your life.

“They have been going well. Jisung struggled for a bit, but he was able to fix his study habits, and he has managed to make up most of his missing assignments, as I’m sure you’ve seen.” The most fluid set of lies you’ve ever told, especially to someone with so much authority over you. Sure, you had lied to your parents, who hadn’t? But to the faculty? Never in your life.

“I certainly have, and he’s made quite the improvement,” Miss Barnes agreed, licking the tip of her forefinger before flicking through the stack of assignments on her desk. Jisung reacted repulsively and made a mental note to wash his hands when she hands his assignments back to him.

“Jisung, your short story is absolutely beautiful. I had no idea you were capable of such things,” the compliment felt backhanded, but Jisung simply brushed it off for the time being.

“The development between the characters, the raw emotions between the both of them, the storyline. Everything was so well thought out,” she paused to skim over one of the paragraphs again, “if I’m being completely honest with you, I cried whilst reading it.”

You looked at him. Short story? He had never mentioned a short story to you. Sure, you had discussed that he needed to do it, the night that you both were majorly distracted by one another.

“Thank you, miss,” he mumbled, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Now, even with all this good work and high grades I can award you with, Jisung,” she said, placing his work on top of the neat stack of papers, “there is one point of concern. Your last test score.”

Chills ran down your spine. You briefly recalled Jisung asking for help with his study for it, and yet his plea fell on deaf ears.

“It’s the first time you’ve received a score like this in quite a number of weeks,” the teacher explained, her face riddled with concern, “I just want to know how this could’ve happened.”

“Oh Jisung, you goose,” you piped up and slid the test paper towards you, “we went over this the week before, don’t you remember?” Lies dripped from your tongue like honey, your voice sickly sweet like it too.

He was absolutely dumbfounded. “What?”

“Come on, Dory. We covered this.” Your lies were multiplying, and doing so rapidly.

“So, he just simply forgot? Could it be to do with your study plan at home, Jisung?”

Jisung shook his head vigorously, “I-It’s not like that-”

“I’m sure these concepts just slipped his mind, miss. I’ll work with him on improving his study routine,” you gave the teacher a pseudo smile and gathered your things, “I have to get to my next class. If you’ll excuse me,” and with that, you were gone.

“Um, I-I have to get to my next class. Thank you for your time, Miss Barnes.” He grabbed his bag, and made a beeline to the door, hot on your heels.

“Wait, Y/N! Wait up,” he chased after you down the hall until you turned around.

Your face was void of any emotion when you swivelled around. No sickly sweet tone, no smile visible on your face. Instead, you looked annoyed that he had to interrupt your day.

“What, Jisung?” The way you said his name made his heart clench and twist to the point of near shattering, and yet, it pissed him off further. Acting like nothing ever happened, like you hadn’t just spouted countless lies to your teacher.

“What the fuck was that?” He pointed back in the direction from whence he had came. You glanced over his shoulder, pretending to look around. A few seconds ticked by and you turned your attention back to him.

“I don’t see what you’re talking about,” you shrugged your shoulders. He clenched his jaw in response.

“I’m not as dumb as I seem,” he spat, venom lacing his tongue, “don’t play it.”

“I thought I made it clear that I don’t want to talk to you,” your arms were folded across your chest, clearly disinterested in the conversation. Jisung’s anger bubbled and rose in his chest. How could you be so nonchalant? How could you act like there was nothing there?

“Now if you’re quite done, I have a class to get to,” and with that, he watched you saunter away, leaving him agape and speechless.

Were things ever gonna get better?

ix. this is what happens when i leave you unsupervised (kiss and make up)

Things were not improving. Not even the faintest glimmer of hope gave Jisung the slightest chance of having you back in the life he was cursed to call his own. He heard the rumours that were chanted in the hallways that the closeness between you and him was for a different reason and the turmoil was due to a disgustingly messy end to whatever students say your official title was.

“Dude, just ignore it. It’ll die down in a couple days. It’s not all that important,” one of his close friends Mark advised. For someone who always boasted about being the eldest and demanding the most respect, he wasn’t very wise, Jisung noted.

Nothing changed. Rumours continued to circulate, tension was high, and once again, his grades were slipping. Jisung was never one to believe in destiny or luck, but in this case, he truly believed that both decided to simultaneously fuck him over and run his senior year of high school into the ground.

His grades fell from a lack. A lack of studying, a lack of attention in class, a lack of tutoring sessions with you. Initially, he thought tutoring sparked the want to learn and improve for him, so he asked Miss Barnes if he could be tutored by someone else after making some excuse about you having picked up after school shifts at a new cafe.

It took him no less than three minutes of sitting at the same table as Shin Ryujin to realise that it wasn’t tutoring itself that sparked his want to study. It was you. The very same person who would evade him in the hallways like he was the carrier of some kind of deadly virus, would pretend there was music blaring in her ears to excuse why she wouldn’t answer when he called her name and didn’t seem affected by the rumours that were spiralling out of control.

He had started to frequent the skatepark more often like the place was a drug and he was an addict. His preferred time of day was in the ungodly hours of the night when the air was the chilliest and the population of the park was one, Park Jisung.

Setting his decorated board down on the ground, he took a deep breath. The week had been terrible, a repeat of the last three weeks and each spookily identical to the point where Jisung had pondered whether or not he was stuck in a time loop.

His heel balanced on the back of the board, the front stuck out over the bowl like a pirate’s plank, that is if a pirate’s plank was covered in stupid stickers and meaningless graffiti.

The euphoric rush of adrenaline was what he craved, the feeling that he was untouchable and free. It was his drug and over these last couple of weeks, he relapsed into his addictive ways in his desperate attempts of escapism. He rolled back and forth in the bowl like it was second nature, occasionally adding a trick into his routine. He felt free, happy, and relieved. Hell, he even felt invincible. However, that analogy was short-lived.

Amidst his impressive moves and tricks, he was gaining speed with no hope of slowing down anytime soon. His vision was blurred by the velocity of his skateboard, the wind whipping past his face and numbing his cheeks from the sensation. He went for another lap around the bowl when his footing on his board slipped, throwing Jisung from his skateboard with a crash.

Wearing pain ripped from his wrist down his arm, crying and hissing in pain. He clutched his wrist tightly and rolled onto his back, continuing to wail into the silent abyss of the night. He was sure that his wrist was broken, or at the very least sprained, but he didn’t have the stomach to look at it.

His phone was within arm's reach from him. Must’ve flown out my pocket when I fell, he thought. Bracing himself for the worst, he momentarily released his wrist to grab my phone. With one hand, he scrolled through his contacts until his eyes caught on one. His thumb hovered idly over the top of it, twitching in hesitation. It was your contact. He hadn’t altered anything about it, not even bothering to edit the emojis he had placed there out of it. He sighed gently, he knew his options were narrowed down to two; you would pick up or you wouldn’t, but the situation was much different than it had been over nearly a month, he thought it would be different. He was injured and he was in desperate need of your attention, medically and physically.

Ring ring! Ring ring! The shrill sound of your ringtone echoed throughout the room and more importantly, rudely interrupted your studying playlist. You glanced at the contact, a pit forming at the bottom of your stomach. You had given up your tally on how many times he had called after 17. It was getting slightly ridiculous, to the point that the sight of his contact sent your blood boiling. How many times did you have to tell him that you didn’t want to talk to him? How thick was he?

Enough was enough. The record had to be set straight between him and you, besides your ringtone was irritating. You made a small mental note on the urgency of changing your ringtone. You tapped the green button, stirring up a thousand nasty sentences on your tongue before he even had time to speak.

“Stop fucking calling me! How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I want nothing to do with you. Seriously, how delusional are you-”

“Y/N,” Jisung interrupted, his voice raspy and quiet. The sound of your name on his tongue sent alarm bells off in your head, something was wrong.

You softened, visibly and verbally, “Jisung, is everything okay?”

A halfhearted chuckle tickled your ear, “Not particularly.”

Your heart rate spiked as you thought about every horrible scenario your brain could conjure up in seconds.

“What’s wrong? Where are you? Are you hurt?”

His silence was telling as if it told a thousand words he couldn’t.

“Are you at the skatepark?”

“Yes,” he muttered, hissing at the pain that was planted in his wrist.

“I’ll be there in five minutes with a first aid kit. Stay put,” you instructed, clicking off the call without a goodbye, and began rushing around to find your coat and the first aid kit your family stored somewhere in the house. You located it quickly (it was under the bathroom sink behind the year’s supply of hair products) and raced to the door. Your parents’ confused demands to know where you were going so late at night fell upon deaf ears. Your priorities were on Jisung and making sure he was safe.

His voice rang in your ears. You recalled the way it broke in certain places like he was trying to mask his pain, his tears. You cursed yourself aloud for letting your damn pride get in between your job and Jisung. There wasn’t a day that slipped by that you didn’t think about the damned boy. Sometimes, you would groan and mumble obscenities when you did, but in others, an ache settled heavy in your heart.

The skatepark grew closer in your peripheral vision. Your legs pumped faster as you raced up the hill and looked into the bowl. There sat the black haired boy, his bangs still covering his eyes just like the first day you had met him. The only difference between that first meeting in the school library and now was he was nursing his wrist against his chest.

“Jisung,” you called to him. He snapped his head in your direction, his eyes softened the moment he saw you.

“You actually came,” he replied, a little astonished. You shuffled down the sides of the bowl in an attempt to not slip and land face first onto the concrete similarly to Jisung.

“Of course I came. You’re hurt. I couldn’t just leave you out here in the cold,” You exaggerated your sigh as you knelt in front of him, plopping the first aid bag beside you and rifling through it to find the equipment you needed to patch up your skater boy.

Your. That word, when associated with Jisung, felt foreign in your mind. Proclaiming the injured boy as yours, pretending that for the last two weeks that you hadn’t been ignoring him, ignoring his calls, his texts, his entire existence.

Yet you picked up his call tonight. You remember the gut-wrenching feeling that set in your stomach like cement when his caller ID flashed across your screen. Something compelled you to pick up the phone, and that ‘something’ was the boy who preferred his skateboard to his textbooks.

You gently touched his wrist, earning a hiss of pain in return. You glanced up at Jisung, whose eyes were glazed over with a thin sheen of tears and he jerked his hand away from you.

“I can’t stop it from hurting if you don’t let me touch it,” you scolded lightly. Jisung it down on his bottom lip in thought for a split second before letting go of his wrist and letting you take a look at his swollen wrist.

Your eyes blew wide. “Well, that’s a sprain if I’ve ever seen one,” you commented, which was met with a blank glare from him.

“Wow, really? I never noticed, Captain Obvious. Thank you for that astute observation,” his voice dripped with sarcasm, making your face fall into a similar expression as his.

“I could leave you here and let your wrist heal incorrectly,” you threatened, turning to pack up the first aid kit. Jisung visibly panicked and shook his head.

“That’s what I thought,” you couldn’t suppress the small smile that graced your lips as you picked a bandage and ice pack out of the bag and pressed it against his wrist. Jisung winced at the cold surface of the ice pack that made you laugh.

“How did you even get yourself into this mess?” You asked as you compressed the pack to his wrist, sounding a little astounded. Jisung snickered and shrugged his shoulders.

“I fell off my skateboard. There’s not much more to it than that,” he laughed, his shoulders shaking as he did. His laugh was like music to your ears, soothing and pretty to listen to. It was a perfectly full sound, like it would play whenever you opened the lid of a child’s music box.

“You never fall off your skateboard,” you crinkled your brows and looked him up and down as you removed the ice pack and picked up the bandage and began to wrap his wrist.

Jisung knew you were right. The last time he had fallen off his skateboard was freshman year, and even then, the biggest injury he sustained was a moderately sized scrape on his knee.

“Distracted, I guess,” he tried to play it off but you were stubborn and adamant.

“Bullshit,” you replied.

“Maybe,” he gave you a small smile.

“So, tell me.”

He swallowed thickly and diverted his eyes from yours, trying to pull his hand away from your touch, however your grip was firmer than he anticipated.

“Why are you acting like this?” Annoyance bubbled inside your chest.

“L-Like what?” He stumbled over his words, shifting his body weight onto his good hand, the uninjured one.

“Like you’re hiding something from me,” Jisung scoffed at your words.

“Why would I be so quick to tell you anything? You haven’t spoken to me in weeks,” he hissed as he attempted to push your hand away, yet was met with yet another fail. His words made you freeze mid-wrap.

“I was selfish, I know-”

“No shit,” he spat. Your heart sank in your chest at the sharpness of his words and the way they plunged deep into you.

“I’m sorry. Really I am,” you apologised gently, your thumb running over the back of his bandaged hand. It was a small gesture but one that meant a great deal to Jisung. It brought back colourful childhood memories of his mother and the caring and gentle ways she would handle situations with him and his older brother.

“You,” Jisung blurted out. You gave him a strange look.

“What? What about me?” You asked, making him shake his head.

“The reason I fell off my skateboard was that I was thinking about you.” His sudden confession took you off-guard, like someone had knocked the wind out of your chest.

“O-Of me?” You swallowed thickly. Had ignoring all of his attempts at conversations, all the chances of reconciliation made you a constant thought? A thought living rent free in his mind, and one that was eating him from the inside out.

“Do you need your hearing checked again? That’s what I said,” there was a teasing tone behind his words, and it lightened your heart.

“Even after everything?” He nodded, seeming a little distant to be thinking about the topic.

“As much as I didn’t want to, you seemed to be the only thing on my mind for weeks. I tried to convince myself that I shouldn’t miss you, but somehow that made me miss you more.”

You sat there, the silence between you growing larger. Somehow, you became hyper aware of how his hand twitched and moved under your touch. Your words sat uncomfortably on your tongue and you swear you could see the twinkle of the stars taking its pretty place in his eyes.

Jisung’s gaze drifted upward and the smallest yet prettiest smile formed across his lips. “You kept my beanie,” he noted aloud. His public observation made you fluster quickly, unintentionally telling yourself to touch the soft woollen hat. You fumbled over your words in a poor attempt to explain yourself, cut off only by his gentle laughter.

“Dork,” he teased, pulling it off your head. You squawked in surprise and swiped at the hat with your free hand to try and grab it. Damn Park Jisung and his long limbs.

“I’m surprised you kept it. I thought you would’ve thrown it out or burned it by now,” he said half jokingly as he admired the hat, swiping the pad of his thumb over the brand patch on the front of the beanie.

“I couldn’t bring myself to do either,” you admitted, shrugging your shoulders and disguising the fact that your heart was beating so erratically you could hear it in your ears. The thought of destroying something that a, didn’t belong to you, and b, belonged to the one and only Park Jisung, was against your moral code.

“Also, stay still, you need to elevate your wrist,” you instructed and lifted his forearm upwards.

Jisung threw the beanie back at you, “It’s cute,” he commented. The conversation fizzled back into silence and fleeting glances. Time froze as he tried to ignore the way your fingers would delicately glide over his like he was made of glass. His mind focused on how your fingers gently curled around the space between his thumb and his index finger.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You asked as you fixed his bandage and tightened it. Jisung nodded wordlessly, ready for whatever question you had.

“Do you think we could…try again?” He picked up on the slight yet unmistakable crack in your voice.

You missed him, and greatly at that. It didn’t matter how many times you ignored his texts or calls or his presence when he walked past you in the corridor, you felt this twinge of pain in your heart. You still had to see his contact pop up in your notifications every time you looked at your phone. Hell, even your voicemails were full because you didn’t have the heart to delete his voicemails. Sure, you were an asshole to Jisung after the party, and you regretted every moment of it, but you missed him. Even right now, when sitting in his presence, you missed him.

“We could,” he said stoutly. His tone didn’t immediately indicate if he was joking around or not, but your gut told you that it held a slight bit of resentment. You swallowed thickly and sighed loudly.

“Would you let us?”

“I might,” he said in the same tone as before. You looked down before shifting on your knees.

“Jisung,” you groaned at his lack of response, and he visibly caved.

“Okay,” he breathed, “we can try again. But no storming out on me at parties,” he teased gently as he watched you tighten his bandage.

“Don’t take me to parties and that won’t be a problem,” you gave him a loose smile, scooting closer towards him. The dark haired boy gave a hearty chuckle, until he jerked his hand in the wrong direction, to which it was sharply cut off by a hiss of pain.

“Alright, maybe we should take you to the ER,” you suggested, “I may have done my best but I’m no doctor.”

Jisung nodded wordlessly, looking over to his skateboard. Dissimilarly to him, it had sustained no injuries.

“Don’t even think about, Park Jisung,” you warned him as you helped him up, trying your best not to worsen his injury, and better yet, get him away from that stupid ass skateboard.

“Well, I can’t just leave it here! I paid good money for that skateboard!”

“You spent $150 for a plank with wheels?”

“And I’m not letting some runny-nosed, sticky-fingered iPad kid get their grubby hands all over it.” He huffed, leaning down to collect his skateboard, “also, it wasn’t $150.”

“Oh really?”

His cheeks tinted pink, “it was 175,” he mumbled. You reprimanded him for wasting such a large sum of money on a piece of driftwood and Jisung only scoffed and rolled his eyes, reminding you that it was a very good piece of ‘driftwood’. Despite your distaste for the activity, you picked up his skateboard and tucked it under your armpit.

“Now no little sticky fingered kid can get their hands on your ridiculously overpriced skateboard. Happy?” Jisung gave you a closed lipped smile, his cheeks causing his eyes to disappear a little.

There was a pause.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turned to him.

“Yes, Jisung?”

He displayed a small but grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

You reciprocated the smile, and a soft hue coloured your cheeks.

“Don’t mention it.”

The two of you walked together down the path. The air was still freezing and the silence between was just as bitterly cold. Your feelings on Jisung were mixed and stirred, like a drink whose flavour was bittersweet. Yes, you disliked him for the shitstorm of a party incident, but that didn’t stop you from thinking. Thinking about the hours you spent on him, hours of your life you would never get back. Did you really regret those hours? The answer was no. Time flew past before you could conceptualise it, which paled in comparison to how slow these last couple weeks moved for you. Not to mention that Jisung had loosened you up. You felt less tense in strange social settings and admittedly less uptight than you were before. He showed you that your teenage years were still meant to be fun, that you didn’t need to figure out what to do with yourself immediately. Jisung was your guide through a different side of the world you thought you knew.

You looked over at Jisung as you walked. He was nursing his injured wrist against his chest, his other hand helping support it. His bangs were pushed to the side and revealed his eyes and their deep shade of hazelnut brown. Slivers of light shimmered like stars in his irises whenever he passed underneath a streetlamp and swore he had this heavenly glow behind his figure, and you felt a little awestruck just looking at him.

The bright lights of the hospital buzzed quietly as you made your way to the front desk. A middle-aged woman with dark circles under her eyes and an expression that explained that she needed a cigarette and a nap sat behind it, mindlessly tapping on her keyboards and only drew her attention away from her monitor when the two of you approached.

“Can I help you two lovebirds?” Her comment alone turned the tips of Jisung’s ears pink and he looked away from the receptionist.

“Uh yes. My friend here hurt his wrist while skateboarding and I have reason to believe that it’s sprained,” you calmly explained as you pointed to Jisung’s wrist.

The woman leaned over the desk to get a better look at his bandaged wrist. She briefly raised her eyebrow before plonking herself back into her office chair and sluggishly pulled her keyboard towards her.

“Friend, huh? Is that what you young people call your partners now?” She joked. At least, you hope she was joking, “And does your ‘friend’ have a name?”

“Yes. Uh, Park Jisung,” Jisung spoke before you could. He may not know much but he can at least remember his own name for his medical records. His answer was responded with the obnoxious clacking of her keyboard before she asked for her date of birth, residence and emergency contact.

“Alright, just take a seat over there. We’re not busy tonight, if you couldn’t tell,” she gestured to the empty waiting area, “so the doctor will be with you shortly.”

You and Jisung thanked her before taking seats opposite each other and began to wait. The receptionist was right, they weren’t very busy. Obviously, they didn’t usually get patients who have sprained their wrist because they were trying to skate their feelings away. In fact, this whole situation was laughable. You swore you despised him twelve hours ago, but all it took was one phone call and you were running back to him. Did you even despise him at all?

Ten minutes had passed before the doctor emerged from the main hallway to the waiting area, asking for ‘a Park Jisung’. The boy in question pricked up his ears and twisted his neck in the direction his name was called. The doctor smiled widely.

“Park Jisung?” He said again in a cool voice.

“U-Uh yes, that’s me,” he stammered and scrambled to his feet. He turned to you, looking at you as though he was asking for your permission.

“Go. It’s your wrist that’s fucked, not mine,” a teasing smile displayed on your lips, “Unless you need mommy to hold your hand.”

Jisung scoffed in mock disgust and announced that he’d be back soon. With a final nod of your head, he followed the doctor into another room.

The room was in pristine condition. Every surface seemed to sparkle under the fluorescent lights and he was convinced if he looked at the counter, his own reflection would stare right back. The room was decorated with space related decals that were meant to appeal to young kids; planets and stars strategically placed on the door and wall next to the desk, and an astronaut with a visor that obscured his face and holding a flag that said ‘Dr Lim’. On the other side of the desk was a chair reserved for patients, and that is where Jisung sat himself down.

“So,” Dr Lim started, making Jisung turn his attention to him, “you’ve done something to your wrist?”

Jisung nodded to confirm his theory, lifting up his hurt wrist ever so slightly as to not cause himself more pain. Dr Lim gestured for him to bring his hand closer to him, and once it was in his reach, the doctor began unwrapping his hand.

“Did you wrap your hand yourself or was it the girl you came in with?” The doctor asked, noticing how well done it was.

Jisung shook his head, “Oh no, it was her. I think she did a good job.” Jisung felt flushed just thinking about those brief moments.

Dr Lim nodded, “She did a fantastic job. You’re quite lucky to have a friend like her.”

Jisung was sure that the good doctor hadn’t realised how much those words meant to him, but they made a small giddy smile settle onto his lips and painted the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks a dreamy shade of pink.

“Yes, sir. I am extremely lucky to have her.”

#neowritingsnet #ficscafe #nct writers #kpop #fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop fluff #nct fanfiction #nct fluff #nct dream x reader #park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #park jisung scenarios #nct jisung #park jisung fanfiction #park jisung fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst

[cock-holliday]

Getting notes again on my anti-TLOU2 posts and just kinda laughing to myself reminiscing about how that game came out in summer 2020 during a peak in the pandemic, the height of the George Floyd Uprisings, a spike in nazi rallies to combat, and was right before another wave of demonstrations for Palestine in response to Israel’s annexation plans.

It’s the only game I ever pre-ordered (cause even games I desperately want aren’t worth $60), and it arrived on Juneteenth, one of the only days all summer (and then all fall) we didn’t have a march or cop fight cause it was a block party/community fundraiser and temporary pause in the brutality we were facing. (Not that cops didn’t show up trying to intimidate everyone.)

To download the game while I was out and come back to play that cruel cynical shitfest over the weekend was just…funny.

I was so mad, and I’m still mad 4 years later but fuck it was so tone deaf about everything it’s almost hilarious.

The lawlessness of a plague permitting people to give in to their evilness during a time where being abandoned by the government showed how many orgs and communities stepped up to protect and feed and clothe each other was funny, how strangers didn’t turn on each other, and how any additional cruelty was only amplified where it already was—among the privileged—was funny. State violence and rebel violence being equally bad while cops were brutalizing us and our neighbors was funny. A message of hope being naive and the reality is grim and dark is soooo funny like Druckmann doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about at all.

Over my near-30 years I’ve seen a lot of violence, a lot of horrible things, I’ve been brutalized, I’ve come extremely close to death a few times, and thought I was going to die a few more. I’ve been in the thick of things and seen unimaginable cruelty and neglect directed at myself and especially at those I’ve worked with/for, and the childish perception of evil never reflects reality.

In prisons, the biggest evil is the prison staff. A cop calmly dragging someone away is so much more evil than the person wriggling in cuffs. A politician signing a piece of paper will kill more than any dipshit stockpiling guns. Real evil isn’t a result of ‘human nature’ it is the result of systems of control and oppression. It is the result of systemic brainwashing of 1. those with legitimate grievances 2. those who are groomed to feel entitled/superior.

Reducing this story to baby’s first moral quandry is so bizarre.

The fact that people think part 2 was some highbrow thinkpiece because it’s depressing are such clowns! Humanity is evil, resisting state violence is evil and naive, all violence is equally bad regardless of motivation, anyone who does violence actually needs punished, redemption and recovery isn’t possible because human nature—like do you have any more tween genius insight for us?

Israeli propaganda really liquifies your brain I swear

[sunflower-snz]

Secret Santa: @zensations35

Hey Zen! :D You got me as your secret santa this year, hopefully this’ll be up to your standards, I had some pretty big boots to fill. Now I’ve never written male snz before so please excuse the quality. We’ve a few avengers featuring at the beginning of this then we go very Loki focused at the end for you. Hopefully this’ll be enjoyable to read :D

Under the cut: MAINLY male snz, tiny snippet of female sprinkled in, slight contagion but nothing too major :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Had he known this were to happen, Loki really wouldn’t have bothered going to that god damn party.

It had all started a week ago, Clint Barton had just returned from a week-long stake out overseas, it was a valuable mission. One he completed well. But it wasn’t just a new report of the bases’ ongoing activities which the archer had been kind enough to bring home with him.

“HaH! HH’aETSCHOO!” He barrelled forwards, the edges of his unnaturally red nose twitching as he held a calloused hand lazily in front of his face in apprehension for the next. Not that he did a job of covering up his first one.

“Christ Clint, cover your mouth.” The redheaded spy seated at the end of the table retorted, her usually stoic face cringing at the sound of the thick wet sniffles that he gave in response. He sounded awful. Of course, she had sympathy for her partner, but that sympathy was buried by the urge to violently hurl a box of tissues in his general direction. She did not want to catch that.

Who could blame her really? Everyone was thinking it. Shared glances and hushed whispers made their way round the dining table. Nobody wanted to be the person to say that Clint should probably have been curled up in bed instead of sat sharing (more than) breakfast with the team but as it was his first day back, exceptions were made.

Boy did people really come to regret that. It had taken, what was it, 12 hours? For the second pair of sniffles to be heard in the tower. Tony, sat in his lab, looked up from the mess of wires he has been working on soldering to see Bruce swiping a quick finger beneath his nose. A very recognisable, pre-sneeze look clouding his features. God damn it, Barton! The genius thought to himself, realising that maybe sharing a meal with a man too tired to be bothered about the consequences sharing his germs probably wasn’t the greatest idea in hindsight.

“Damn, hIh- It.” It seems his lab partner was thinking the same thing as his head reared backing, with yet another hitching breath. Then another.. And another. “Hah- Fuck.” Now Bruce wasn’t one to swear but this was an exception. He needed to sneeze, he could feel it right there! Just in the bridge of his nose, but it wouldn’t quite- “Hhh..HAH-”

Suddenly he drew in a loud inhale, more so resembling someone taking in a long deep breath before diving into water. But this wasn’t for holding his breath. The scientist suddenly found his body diving forward with a loud, desperate, “GHAH’CHH! HaH’HTSHOO!”

Barton was clearly more contagious than he thought. Shit.

Maybe had this cold had come at an opportune time, when things were less busy, people wouldn’t had been so annoyed, but this coming Friday was the date of Stark’s annual holiday party. Something the genius was not planning on missing. Some would say that Stark parties over the top. Tony preferred ‘extravagant.” Whatever they were, they were always a big deal. Fully stocked bar, music, dancing. The whole deal. And a Stark party would never, could never, be postponed, the mere thought of it went against his entire ideology. It was an insult to him personally for anyone to even suggest such an action. No. This party would be going ahead. With full attendance.

Sniffles or not.

Day’s passed yet no-one seemed to be improving. Barton had finally retired to his bedroom in an attempt to prevent thing’s being shared further but it was a little too late for that. Pepper also already begun to sniffle last night, Bruce was currently sat surrounded by a pile of tissues in his lab and even Cap had begun clearing his throat intermittently. Tony could swear he felt his throat tickle every now and then – that might’ve just been hypochondria though. But regardless, now wasn’t the time for sickness. There were things that needed celebrating and tonight they would.

Loki hadn’t even been planning to attend the event in the first place. Why would he? Sure, he may be at the point where he was civil with most of the Avengers by now but “frolicking around with that pretentious asshole”, the asshole in question needing no introduction, was not how he wanted to spend him evening.

“Come on, you know you enjoy it really!” It was only after several hours of nagging from Thor that he finally agreed to trouble himself with the effort of attending. If anything, his attendance was only to please his brother - definitely not the promise that he would have full unrestricted access to the open bar.

The night of Stark's annual holiday party arrived, and the Tower was transformed into a dazzling spectacle of lights, music, and laughter. The atmosphere was alive with celebration, and even those who were feeling under the weather couldn't resist the allure of the extravagant event. Not that they had much choice anyway.

Loki, clad in his customary green and gold attire, stood at the edge of the crowded room, observing the festivities with a detached interest. He quickly downed a drink he’d swiped from the doorman’s desk and allowed himself into the bustling crowd, leaving the empty glass on a random table as shifted through the masses. He’d almost made it over to his brother but was interrupted with a sudden slap on the back.

“Enjoying the party?" Came the still slightly Coarse voice of a seemingly now more energetic Clint. The day he’s spent resting seemingly reviving his energy.

The God raised an eyebrow, acknowledging the archer with a nod. "As much as one can enjoy these mortals' festivities." He shifted, noticing the man’s slightly rough appearance. Do these people really not clean themselves up for special events? Typical. He tsk’d to himself

Clint chuckled, seemingly unfazed by Loki's disdain. "Well, they know how to throw a good party. You should try the drinks; they're divine."

Loki smirked, intrigued despite himself. "Divine, you say? I may indulge in a taste." He quipped, taking the drink from the man’s and swigging it before he had a chance to interject.

It wasn’t like he’d be able to warn him much anyway. Clint suddenly sneezed without warning. The unexpected spray catching both of them off guard.

“HhHAHTSCHOO!“

"Gah! Sorry about that," Clint apologised, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, “Still a little under the weather I guess.” He sniffled to himself, before being called away from someone, leaving the God revelling in genuine disgust.

“Christ,” Loki muttered to himself, taking off his spray-speckled blazer and groaning in repulsion, “This jacket costs most then your entire outfit and you have to nerve to sneeze on it?” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head with a sigh. Mortals. Their lack of manners never seemed improve.

Maybe if he’d gone home at that point, he still could’ve escaped unharmed. But no, he just had to get and get himself another drink – he deserved one another dealing with that -. Afterall he did come here to enjoy himself.

The god made his way through the crowd, eyes rolling at some of the terrible dancing he saw from the playboy genius on his way. People really looked up to this guy?

He approached the bar, sliding onto one of the pristine white stools tucked into the counter, “Can I get a larg-” He began, but the redhead stood behind the bar held up a silent finger, stopping him in his tracks as a hazed expression shifted her features, making her eyelashes flutter rapidly.

“Ih’shIEW! Hup’TSHH! Hih!-Hh-IshHh’tSHU!” Her small frame seemed to helplessly curl in on herself as she bent at the waist while simultanously turning away to catch her sneezes into her hands. She coughed a little as she straightened herself back up.

“Do egxcuse me.” Her voice was flooded with congestion. Natasha dared to sniffle before pulling out a napkin from somewhere. How did spies always seem to have hidden pockets in every outfit he wondered to himself, not that he was jealous or anything. Magic would always superior for making things appear and disappear without a trace but for a human, she did a pretty good job at keeping things discreet. She held the napkin to her nose, and he looked away. Clearly she was embarrassed around the whole thing. Normally he would’ve taken advantage of that, even found it somewhat comical, but 2-drink Loki was a bit of a softie. Especially when the usually tough-unbreakable Natasha Romanoff looked as if though she was about to crumble.

She blew her nose quietly and cleared her through but this time different voice spoke as he looked up from his drink. “I told you that you should’ve stayed in bed.” Maria purred softly, coming round to slink her arms around the Nat’s waist, pulling her closer from behind as she too seemingly also appeared from nowhere, “You’re not one to get sick, I don’t want you exhausting yourself.”

How cute they looked. Maybe too cute. Loki didn’t want to be deliberately rude but this little moment was getting a little too sappy for his likings. The God cleared his throat loudly,, bringing both women back to the present moment, “Mind if I take that drink now?”

Maria rolled her eyes, releasing Natasha and stepping back. "Fine, fine. Get him his drink so he doesn't feel neglected," she said, giving Loki a wry smile before pressing a soft kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek.

“The usual?” The redhead asked, not really needing an answer and her nose still twitched a little as she began to pour a dark coloured liquid into a crystallised glass. Oh? He quirked a raised eyebrow in surprise at her remembrance of how he takes his drinks. “Thank you.” Loki smirked before taking a sip of the drink that had been slided infront of him. He would’ve stayed to talk a little longer – truthfully he liked the company of the girls a lot more than he did some of the others – but he was soon whisked away when Thor came over, wearing an alcohol fuelled smile.

“Brother! You came.” He called loudly, raising his glass into the air as he pulled the God away from the bar and towards the group of older men loudly laughing and flaunting their old stories of victory, “You must tell them of our time on Crumelia!” He cheered, referencing the planet the two had visited together a few months prior.

The night wore on with laughter, music, and a myriad of conversations. Loki found himself drawn into Thor's tales of heroism and adventure, the alcohol making the stories more entertaining than he would care to admit. The atmosphere of the party did have a certain charm, he begrudgingly acknowledged.

As the night reached its peak, Loki eventually excused himself from the lively group, citing the need for a moment of solitude. He retreated to a quieter corner of the room, nursing his drink as he observed the chaotic dance floor. The revelry continued around him, but he felt a growing fatigue.

Eventually, the party began to wind down, and guests started to make their way home. Thor had offered out their spare-room for the God so instead of filtering out with the rest of the attendee’s he stayed behind until it was only the Avengers left.

They had huddled into a group now, all nursing their last drinks of the night. Well, nearly all of them. Natasha had already fallen asleep against Maria’s, her mouth hanging slightly open as she snored quietly - much to the earlier vast assusment of everyone at seeing their resident spy finally acting like a true human being for once. Loki couldn’t help but join in as they all continued to laugh and share stories. Of course Thor had brung out his hammer, as he always does, encouraging the others to finally see if they were worthy enough to wield it.

The alcohol that had fueled his earlier enthusiasm now served as a heavy lullaby, coaxing him towards the realm of sleep. The laughter and camaraderie of the Avengers became a distant hum as he excused himself from the group, citing the need for rest. Thor, still in high spirits, clapped a hand on Loki's shoulder. "Rest well, brother! We shall regale you with tales of today's merriment in the morning."

With a nod and a faint smile, Loki made his way to the guest room assigned to him. The Tower, now quieter and dimly lit, felt strangely peaceful. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the remnants of the party.

The bed, though not the grandeur of his Asgardian chambers, looked inviting. Loki undid the clasps of his elaborate attire, letting the green and gold fabric fall to the floor. The room was cool, a stark contrast to the warmth of the festivities. Maybe the night hadn’t been so bad after all.

Well. That’s what he thought atleast. Until he woke up the next morning.

Loki awoke to a pounding headache and a throat that felt like it had been scorched by fire. He groaned, burying his face into the pillow as he attempted to ignore the discomfort. The room, once serene, now seemed to spin with every movement.

Still, he dragged himself out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, ignoring the disheveled state of his room. The reflection in the mirror revealed a pale and weary god, a far cry from the composed trickster he usually presented to the world. The remembrance of the previous night’s music and laughter seemed to mock his misery. With each step, he felt weaker, his body aching and chilled and his chest rumbled with a deep, rattling cough. Stupid mortal germs!

He cursed them out, but before he could utter anymore foul words against anyone, his nose itched. A wild tickle, causing his jaw to go slack, fruitless to fight against it, “HAh'tsCHIEW! HHUh-Hah’ESHOO! Heh'gnXNNT! Guh...” He sniffled wetly, grimacing at the feeling of thick congestion already beginning to settle in his sinsues.

As he swayed there in place, contemplating the unfairness of his situation, he was once again helpless to the burning itch in his sinuses. "Hah'KSHIEW!” Ugh, curse these wretched germs," he grumbled, his frustration growing. The once-mighty god now felt as vulnerable as any mere mortal and that alone made him feel 10x worse.

He was Loki! A trickster! A God! And yet here he was, shivering and sniffling through his stuffed up nose like such... such.. such a weakling! With a drasted sigh, he humbled himself and resigned to the fact this was just something he was going to have to get through. He grabbed a box of tissues and blew his nose, the sound echoing in the quiet room making him cringe at himself. He hated this.

Throughout the day, Loki's condition deteriorated further. Sneezes punctuated his every attempt to gather his bearings, each one a reminder of his weakened state. The once proud and regal god found himself reduced to a pitiful figure, wrapped in a blanket on the couch in one of the many communal areas of the the tower, a book in hand, with tissues strewn around him like confetti. His nose was raw from constant wiping, and his eyes were red and watery as he tried to make sense of the words infront of him.

"Hah'KSHIEW! Hhih! Hh..Hah'PTSHIEW! Ugh, this is insufferable," Loki muttered to himself as he turned the page. The trickster god, usually quick-witted and sly, now sniffled pathetically as he tried to regain some semblance of composure. He couldn’t even read properly without having to stop to sniffle every few seconds.

His attempts to use his magic to alleviate his symptoms proved futile. It only left him shivering and exhausted in wake of his efforts. With a final shiver, he sighed and closed his book. He was getting nowhere like this. He needed to sleep.

However it was just as the God resigned himself to the need for sleep, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the quiet tower. Thor, ever watchful of his mischievous brother, entered the room, a concerned expression crossing his face as he witnessed Loki's disheveled state.

"Brother!" Thor exclaimed, his voice a mix of worry and exasperation. "What in the realms has befallen you? You look as if you've faced the wrath of a frost giant!"

Loki glanced up, his eyes weary and red, and managed a weak smirk. "Just a mere inconvenience, dear brother. Mortal germs have decided to wage war on Asgardian immunity.” He sniffled thickly, the act irritating his already rubbed-raw nose, causing it to twitch maddeningly.

“Ha-hh.. Hah'KSHIEW! HhhH’HhtSHH! hh’EKSHIEW! God, fgucking, damn HhH- it! Hhh’TSCHOO!”

The thunder god’s eyes widened in surprise at his brothers outburst, offering out a tissue as he tried hopelessly to clean himself up. “I believe the native curtesy is to say ‘bless you.’” Thor chuckled, extending a firm hand to squeeze Loki’s shoulder, “I’ve also heard about the wonders of tea for these sorts of ailments, I’ll go and prepare some.”

The ever-caring brother, quickly made his way to the kitchen to prepare a soothing cup of tea. The scent of chamomile and honey filled the air as he expertly brewed the remedy. Returning with a steaming mug, he handed it to Loki, his concern evident in his eyes, “Just try some.” He urged.

Loki begrudgingly accepted the tea, the warmth seeping into his chilled fingers. "Fine, fine," he muttered, taking a sip and feeling a slight sense of relief slowly come over him.

"It’s not awful," He sniffled begrudgingly.

Thor grinned, satisfied. "Rest now, brother. Back to bed with you.” He motioned, holding out a hand to pull his brother up from the sofa, making sure he had properly gained his balance before letting go.

Resigned to his fate, the trickster went back to his room and wrapped himself in a thick robe. The fabric doing little to stave off the persistent chill that clung to him so he trudged back to his bed, tissues in hand, and succumbed to the discomfort that accompanied his illness. The room, once filled with the echoes of revelry, was now a silent witness to man’s struggles against the common cold.

#snz #snzkink #snzblr #snzfic #male snz #lo/ki snz #snzario #snz kink #f snz #m snz #snzfucker #snz secret santa #🌻 fic #snzblr secret santa 2023

[whoppert]

Sunna 7 (stephen strange/reader) (loki/reader)

◂ previous chapter first chapter ▴

3969 words

warnings: the after effect of mind violation

AO3 Master Fic List

Despite the gaping hole in my memory, I'm confident that I've never felt like this much of a burden before. A few days ago I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid at the staircase, but now? Now it’s an impossible mountain to climb.

Most of the world is contained to my room now. 

Wong had mentioned struggling to cleanse the space of mystical markers that had been left behind, but I couldn’t even tell. The power that flowed through me, albeit slight compared to Stephen’s or Wong’s or even this goddamn house? It’s gone. The purple energy that used to flicker around my fingers, forming shapes almost of its own will was gone. I'd tried to call it, but I almost threw up. My body is at odds with my spirit right now and I hate it.

AO3

Stephen brandishes the worm, dropping it into the palm of my hand.

“What the fuck is that?” I ask, trying to ignore the pool of slime it extruded.

“Excuse you, ” said the worm.

The flick of my hand was involuntary, and I fling the worm onto the rug.

Stephen, who had been trying to tell me to be careful, squats down and plucks the worm out of the carpet fibers. “This is the frontier in magical psychology. Its name is Gorron.”

“It’s a worm.”

“It’s a grub, thank you very much, you ungrateful mammal,” the worm had an accent that I couldn’t identify. “You’re lucky I’ve already been paid or I’d march right outta here! Worm? What am I, a nematode?”

Stephen sighs and shoots me an apologetic look. "I know it's strange, but it's actually very good at it's job."

"I'm really sorry, I don't usually do bugs. I'm sorry if I offended you and for... throwing you," I wince. “So… do I just lay back and tell Gorron my problems? Care to summon me a chez lounge?”

“It is much more simple than that. Look, I recognize that this is going to sound really gross, but-”

“Stick ‘im in ya ear, baby, lemme have a look at that mind!” Gorron interrupts.

So stark was the silence after that statement, that I almost decided that I might have a limit when it came to finding a cure. I look from Gorron to Stephen, who nods in confirmation and then back at Gorron whose little mouth had fallen open and was licking his lips. If grubs have lips. “Absolutely not.”

“Look doll, I’ve got a job to do, so open your ears and shut ya mouth, capeesh?”

Stephen snaps his hand shut, muffling the grub’s yells of displeasure. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t get out much," he continues, obviously with the intention of Gorron overhearing, "and he hasn't updated the way he speaks to women since the 1950s ap-pa-rent-ly."

I talk over Gorron's slew of deadened swear words. "You're joking, right?" I hear how desperate I sound, but- "In my head? This is a joke? To lift my mood?"

Stephen is right in front of me. Really there is a-step-and-a-half between us. “He’s crass, but if anyone can figure out the next steps, it’s Gor-”

My stomach bottoms out in my gut, a wave of panic hitting me with such force that I literally stagger. “I’m not-”

His free hand steadies me. Stephen says nothing, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, his gaze flitting back and forward between my eyes. I don't understand, what his expression is conveying, concern, and sympathy and pain all together perhaps.

“I can’t,” I want to sound strong, but my voice betrays me, cracking. “I’m sick of this, I’m sick of having shit shoved into my head. I’m sick of it, I’m sick of it. Please.” My breath comes fast and sharp.

“I know,” Stephen eases into the space between us, his empty hand still grasping my upper arm gently, the warmth seeming to loosen the knots in my body. “I know you’re scared. You have every right to be. Does it change anything if I assured you that Gorron can’t hurt you? He can only see what’s going on in there, he can’t change anything.”

My bottom lip wobbles, and Stephen’s gaze shifts to look at it, before snapping up to look me in the eye.

"Would it change anything," Stephen's voice soft, "if I told you that Gorron's basically my shrink?"

"Huh?"

"Do you remember after I found you and we were sitting in my office? And I told you I've been... having trouble sleeping, and you joked about therapy?" He pauses for confirmation. "Well, Gorron's my therapist. Wong makes me see him."

Excluding fighting lessons, Stephen and I are never this close, but lately I appreciate his sparing touch. There is something inviting about him when he isn’t trying to hit me, something comforting. I guess this is his job. I've seen him behave similarly for the people that seek out his help. “Does it hurt?”

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “not at all, it can be a little uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt, no. After your injury you might be a little sensitive though.” Glancing around the room, Stephen adds, “I’m right here, you know. Right by your side, I won’t leave you. You are always safe with me.”

His gray eyes hold no hint of a lie.

I nod. “This is coercion though.”

“I know.”

“And if it goes wrong, I’m holding you accountable.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Stephen opens his hand. Gorron, who had spent the last few moments remarkably silent, opens his eyes in mock surprise. “Glad to see you haven’t forgotten about me! I have a waiting list ya know, I could be getting ignored by far more important people than the pair of you!”

Stephen grasps the grub by its tail.

“Do you trust me?”

“I guess. Yes. I do.”

His gloved hand lightly grasps my cheek, tilting my head, my right ear skyward, before dropping Gorron right into the shell of my ear. Gorron's rolling and wriggling sent a shiver through me. There was a little resistance, culminating in a wet plop, and then he was inside. There’s a grub in my brain, there’s a grub in my brain, there’s a grub in my- I shudder. I feel bad about thinking it's gross, Gorron's a sentient being after all, but I don't do bugs.

Stephen tilts my head back to my midline and then removes his hand from my cheek. I feel its absence keenly.

“Wow, Strange, ya weren’t wrong, something’s destroyed it in here,” Gorron’s voice is too loud and it vibrates in my skull.

I swear, instinctually jerking 'away' from the sound and I feel Gorron brush up against something, strings that bring the spots back to my vision. I grasp Stephen’s hands.

“Wow, talk about a household in denial,” Gorron mutters, quiet enough that I wasn’t sure Stephen could hear, but I was too dizzy to ask what he meant. “And your powers have gone too. That’s a knock to the balls for sure.”

“Can you give us any insight?” Stephen asked.

“Yes, but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Out with it.”

“Firstly - lass, gotta commend ya on having the cleanest brain ever. Not a single mind mite to be found. I have literally never seen that before. Secondly - whatever Loki did, it broke that enchantment that you were under.”

“That enchantment ?” Stephen and I say in unified confusion. There is a yellow and green blob floating between us and it makes the sorcerer look like he's got a bad case of jaundice.

“You heard me. I’d ask if you knew who put you under their spell, but I can see you don’t remember at all. Hey, have you considered renting this space? I know a few parasites that could use a place to live.”

“Gorron.” It was Stephen's last warning.

“Non-lethal of course.”

“Wind it back up a sec,” I demand, “what do you mean Loki broke the enchantment? What enchantment?”

I can feel Gorron squeeze it's body through some tight spot and the spots in my vision cleared.

“Has she always been this slow?”

“Mind your manners, Gorron. I know some bugs that lay their eggs in live prey,” Stephen threatened.

“Jeez, it was only a joke, man. Learn to take a joke. Hmm…” inside my brain, Gorron trailed off. “Your oldest memory is meeting Strange… because that was the day the enchantment was created. It’s got a magical signature that I don’t recognize, but boy did they hide it well.” 

“And my memories, my life before that?”

“My best guess is that whoever put this enchantment in place didn’t account for Loki going for a trip through ya head, and it broke the enchantment differently to the way it was supposed to be broken, it severed your mind. Separated the before-the-enchantment from the after-the-enchantment. Your memories from before then might still be here, but as a result of the spell or the unorthodox way in which it was broken, yeah, I wouldn’t know how to find them. The block on it can only be reversed by the creator. I’d say your best shot would be to find them.”

“Wait, so our best chance of finding out who put the block in place is to find out who put the block in place?”

Gorron sighs like I'm wasting its time, “yes. That’s what I said. Look, if there’s no mites in here, you’re gonna have to tip me, Strange, I didn’t come all the way out here for nothing.”

“For nothing. My whole brain has imploded and it’s nothing to you,” I whisper, my cheeks tight from my uncomfortable smile, before falling into a stunned silence. Everything feel so far away.

“Gorron, what can we do to figure this out?” Asks Stephen.

There's a whoosh, and I feel the grub slide out of my ear, the opposite ear to the one it had entered. “Seems to me, your next step would be finding someone who knows memory magic like the back of their hand and get them to have a look. See if they can recognize the signature. Maybe even see if they can locate where her memories have been hidden in there. Once you know that, I’d go and ask-” Gorron almost fell, but Stephen catches it, “thanks doc. Anyway, figure out who put the enchantment in place and get them to remove it. Easy as pie.”

Without missing a beat, Stephen crushes Gorron in his hand. The sound had a surprising crunch, like the grub had more bones than expected. I gape at the sorcerer.

“Sorry,” he opens his hand to reveal that it is empty empty, no fluids or bug guts in sight, “I was getting really sick of him, and the only way to send him home is to 'kill' him. He’s fine, I’ll see him later about his tip. How are you? That’s a lot to process.”

“If I wasn’t so overwhelmed, I’d probably be angry. Yeah. Probably angry.” I look down to find that Stephen is still holding one of my hands. I recount what we have learned, “so there’s a block on my memories, created the day I met you, probably not by you, because then Gorron would’ve recognized the signature? Correct?”

Stephen nod.

“And the only way to find out who it is that cursed me, is to let someone else have a look? I'm assuming it's a very similar type of magic to what Loki did to me.”

He nods again.

“Even though the last time someone did that it gave me the magical equivalent of a severe concussion?”

One final nod.

My heart pounds. “That voice- from my dream told me what a disappointment I was. I don’t even know who I’m letting down. And my powers are gone, and yeah they weren’t big and dramatic but they were mine. They belong to me, it’s like I’ve had a limb sawn off and I can’t even walk up the fucking stairs without my body giving up on me so I’m just trapped in this room. Is this my life now? Someone just put a spell on me one day and for what? I’m not important, I’m not powerful. Whoever did it must have had a reason but I have no idea who- or what? Except it’s got something to do with you? It must do, or maybe it’s just a coincidence that we met that day, I don’t know.” I'm spiralling.

Stephen doesn't say anything, just squeezes my hand tighter and like a toddler having a tantrum, I try to wrench it from his grasp, but he has a stronger grip than I’d anticipated. I poke a finger into his chest, but he doesn’t flinch.

“And you! You have the nerve to stand there, all sympathetic and concerned, ‘cause I’m just another pathetic-”

“You’re not pathetic-”

“Maybe I’m not, but who’s to say because I don’t know who I am! I couldn’t tell you my favorite food! I don’t know who I am and I feel so stupid. I’m barely a person.” Tears well up in my eyes and I hate them. I try to brush them away, but Stephen still wouldn’t relinquish the hand he held. He was swimming in my vision, and I was glad because then I didn’t have to look him in the eye as he beheld my tears. I’d never cried in front of him before. 

It was the second time he had ever embraced me. The first time even through the wave of nausea and the bright lights, I could feel his relief that I was safe, but this time? Stephen pulls me in, his arms wrapping around me, no relief, only release as I bury my eyes in his shirt and sob. He doesn’t say a thing. Doesn’t move, just holds me, one arm around the small of my back rubs small circles and the other grasps my shoulder firmly. I can feel the ridges and stitching of his glove through the fabric of my shirt.

After a while, I couldn’t tell you how long, I manage to stop crying, taking deep breaths to get myself together. He smells like earl grey tea and lemons.

“You are a person,” said Stephen, finally breaking the silence. His low voice rumbles through his chest. “Look, I’m not the most open person in the world, but,” he takes a deep breath, “I… care about you. You're not stupid and you are certainly not pathetic. I promise we will get to the bottom of this, but until you get everything you’ve lost back, you’re still a person. You're no burden to me.”

My arms are around his neck, our bodies pressed together. “I’m scared.”

"I know."

"I'm scared I'm going to be like this forever."

“I know,” his lips skim my temple, and goosebumps raise down my limbs. “I felt the same way when my hands were crushed. But we have no evidence to suggest you won't make a full recovery. And worse case scenario, we’re going to figure this out. Do you believe me?” His breath is warm on my skin.

"I believe you.

The air is charged, the question is charged, and Stephen holding me is the only thing keeping me together. I get the distinct impression that I should feel embarrassed, humiliated for sobbing in front of Stephen, as though a proper lady might have done it more demurely. I don't though. I like it. I like how caring and attentive he has been since I was injured.

"What do you need? What can I do for you?"

I glance around my room. It seems especially small with another person in it. The green wallpaper is still bright and the iron bed below it is a mess. The room itself is mercifully, not too messy. The curtains are mostly drawn now, blocking out the harsh light of the sun, and leaving only a thick stripe that cuts the room into unequal halves. The room itself is cozy, but after all the time spent in it the last few days, and what had happened there, it's suffocating me. 

"Take me somewhere else. I need to get out of this house."

Stephen clears his throat, and created a portal. Through the golden circle is the stark night. The chill from the cold air radiates through, prickling my skin. We manage to detangle.

The wind is mild and the sky clear. I have no memory of the world so dark. Back in the city the night is never dark, polluted with bright lights and fluorescence and color. But here, the sky is a sheet of black, with hundreds, no, hundreds of thousands of stars of every hue. The world is so quiet and there are no tell tale signs of humanity around. All this space and only the two of us.

"Where…?"

"New Zealand." His robes had shifted into casual wear. That grey sweater again. Stephen stores his hands in his pockets. "Aptly named by the European settlers as the South Island, due to the fact that it is the Southern Island."

"They sound creative." When the portal went, so did all of the light and my eyes tale a moment to adjust. "It's beautiful."

"It is. And it will only get better."

I look at him surprised, eyebrows raised though he probably can't see it in the darkness. The tracks my tears have left behind feel particularly cold in the icy air.

“From a scientific point of view, auroras are the result of charged solar wind particles caught in Earth’s magnetic field. These particles ionize oxygen and nitrogen molecules in the upper atmosphere, a chemical reaction creating light. The indigenous people of this land saw auroras as the campfires of their ancestors.”

“Are they? The campfires of their ancestors?”

Stephen stands at my side, and passes me the sweatshirt that had been hanging on the end of my bed. “Yeah, they are. And if I’ve timed correctly, they should be just about to…” He trails off.

Nothing happens. There is only blackness around us.

Stephen chuckles, “that would’ve been really impressive. This area has been having an increase rate of solar storms-”

The dull cloud twists into a ribbon of white which begin to curl across the sky. Then it's yellow. Red, green, blue - a nebulous glowing arc ornamenting the sky and I look on in awe. The lights of New York had been overstimulating, but this is- "beautiful."

“Yes.”

The dam inside me breaks and energy floods me. Even being out in the fresh air had invigorated my soul a little and I take off marching towards the slab of rock on the edge of the cliff. I dig my fingers into the top and hauling myself up.

"Jesus Christ, be careful!" Stephen's at my side in half-a-second, clamoring up to stand at my side.

"You're worse than Wong," I complain.

"At least sit ," Stephen's hands find my shoulders and gently push.

I groan but comply, letting my legs dangle off of the edge. He joins me. I could see our breath in the air, and pull my sweatshirt tighter around my shoulders.

"What made you want to be a doctor?" I ask finally, breaking the prolonged silence.

"Do you want the PR answer or the truth?"

"Either."

"Well," Stephen runs his fingers through his hair and I wonder what it feels like, "what I used to tell people was that I wanted to help. We are the world type of bull," he laughs and it cuts through the cold, warming my chest. "But the truth is that I wanted to be the best at something with a lot of status."

Stephen digs through his pocket and pull out a chocolate bar. He hands it to me and I snap it in half, letting him choose which piece he prefered.

"Well, I've been thinking about why I must have chosen anthropology to dedicate myself to. I have three possible answers."

"And they are?"

I chew my chocolate thoroughly. "One, knowing how big of a motivator spite is for me, someone probably told me I couldn't do it."

Stephen laughs again, "sounds about right."

"Two, it's just so damn interesting! I was reading through my doctorate thesis and I seemed really passionate about how teeth could tell you so much about someone's social status.” Cupping my hands I blow warm air into them. My knuckles are bright red. "Three, and probably the most boring of all the answers, maybe it was related to my powers. I didn't really ever figure out the origin, maybe I thought it would be linked to something else, something bigger."

"Well, it's looking more and more like you are a part of something bigger."

"Now that I know what 'bigger' entails, maybe I should have wished for a more simple life." I finish my half of the bar and suck the last of the melted chocolate off of my fingers. The aurora crackles around us like radio static. “The way the light flows… It reminds me of the incense that Wong burns. You know the stuff, lotus and patchouli.”

I look at Stephen, his face bathed in colored light. “I know exactly the one. Gives me headaches, but he still insists on it.”

“That’s because it gets you out of his hair once in a while.”

“I suppose, yeah. It does.” Then he adds, "metaphorical hair."

It's nice to laugh with him. “Why did you choose-? I mean, I said I needed to get out of the house, why was New Zealand the first place you thought of?” I shiver, my sweatshirt is not holding up against the winter breeze, I twist my hands in my lap trying to increase the friction.

“Ah, I don’t know,” his eyes levelled against my gaze, the grey taking on the colors passing overhead. It's mesmerizing. “Just popped into my head, I guess.” His voice gets quieter and quieter and I have to lean in to hear him.

There's a magnetic pull between us. Something strong have sucked us into its current, it wasn’t just this moment, it's everything, it's the universe deciding our fate and pushing us together. Everything since we had met had just felt so right, like we were made for each other.

“Aren’t you cold?” I whisper. “I’m freezing.”

For the moment he looks so relaxed. He's only inches away from me now, and his hand covers mine, his warmth permeating through the yellow leather, and I look from his eyes to his mouth, pink lips from the cold slightly parted and bordered with his dark beard. “Stephen?” I couldn’t get my voice to work properly, my breathing had gotten shallow, heart clanging in my chest.

My eyes flutter shut, as he comes close enough that his nose brushes against my cheek, and he murmurs something I can’t make out, cut off when I press my mouth to his.

Stephen tasted like the chocolate we had shared and for a moment everything in this dark world, with its vibrant skies slowed, until he kisses me back, energy flowing through us at the places where we connected, his hand gripping the back of my neck to deepen the kiss, his tongue running over my bottom lip.

He's gone.

I've lost my breath.

Twisting around, I find Stephen standing behind me. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, I was just- trying-”

Heat floods my cheeks and for once I'm at a loss for words.

A portal opens to my room and I flinch at the sudden piercing light.

“I should go,” Stephen hurries into my room, disappearing into the hall.

In his haste, he left the door wide open.

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