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#and why is she nice specifically towards them?
jellysxtarr · 1 day
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Can I request Reader x Zip, Oliver and Edward(Platonic or romantic, whatever you choose!) on a sleepover when it starts to rain, at first just a light rain until the rain intensifies, with thunders and rays, causing a blackout in the middle of the horror film, right when the killer is about to kill its victim.
Due to the blackout, one of them had to go get the flashlights in the basement (Don't ask me why they keep the flashlights in the basement lol)Just like a horror movie script lmao! It would be funny, the three toughest people in school being afraid of just a little blackout?
Have a nice day/night! And sorry for making the request soo long!
Dw about it being too long!! I love it when people make their request detailed!
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THRILLER ! | blackout with the bully trio
WARNINGS: slight mention of murder!
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ᜊ. It was Zip's idea to have a sleepover, seeing that it was the weekend with nothing to do, she took the chance and popped the question the moment it came to her mind, which you all agreed to.
ᜊ. The sleepover started off simple, playing video games while screaming at each other, silly games like truth or dare and afterwards settling down for a movie! Horror, to be more specific.
ᜊ. The weather was already bad, or as in Zip's words "it's more fitting for what we're gonna watch". The rain was already light, soon turning into heavy rain with thunder emerging from the dark clouds, if any of you even went outside, you'd definitely be met with the harsh wind.
ᜊ. The movie wasn't bad, it was actually pretty good for a horror movie! Of course, if you ignore Zip's constant talking during the movie, Oliver's comments on how boring it is and Edwards provoking words on you being the first to scream if something scary happens.
ᜊ. Once finally getting to the more "scary" parts, female actors screaming around while the killer was getting more closer to ending either of their lives. It was getting exciting! Until the TV suddenly goes off.
ᜊ. Nothing seemed to work all of the sudden, lights not turning on, the TV not turning on either no matter how many times you press the "on" button. Even your friends have surprisingly gotten uneasy by the blackout, the weather was not even helping at all.
ᜊ. Recommending to go and search for a flashlight (which all three of them reluctantly agreed to), all four of you went to the basement to retrieve the flashlight, with some bickering on the way on who should go get it.
"[Name], C'mon you get it! What do you mean I should get it?! You go!" Zip's voice spoke up, sounding less playful and more nervous on heading down to the basement, even pushing you towards the door to go first.
"Yeah [Name], don't be a wuss about it. Was your idea after all." Oliver was just the same, sounding less like him and more nervous, even Edwards little "exactly!" wasn't helping any of them out either.
ᜊ. The blackout didn't last long anyway, while getting lost in the bickering and shoving on who should go first to get the flashlight, the lights turn back on which stops the bickering from continuing.
ᜊ. Awkwardly, they laughed it off with Edward later on saying on saying that all of you should finish watching the movie and afterwards go to sleep, and you guys did just that.
ᜊ. Your friends behavior was odd to say the least, not once have they reacted so nervous and reluctant to something silly like a blackout, at least you got something to tease them about later on.
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yuri-is-online · 3 days
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Do you have any thoughts on Jabberwock and the ghouls there?
I really enjoyed it! It makes me wonder why the house doesn't allow general students, maybe a risk factor? But if it was a risk factor, why would the school allow general students at all?
Haru's a treat, I really enjoyed meeting him, he seems to also push himself too hard. Do you think his gloved hand is a prosthetic or something similar?
I also ended up warming up to Ren at the end. I can understand why someone would be annoyed with his attitude and general asocial behavior, but I do see things from his perspective, he's like a more moody Kaito in that aspect of "I might be a ghoul, but I'm still just a normal guy. I didn't ask for any of this, I'm not built to go through this kind of stuff" way of thinking. But I also appreciate that he will do something when the going gets tough, as long as he's allowed to complain about it, lol. He has a different way of showing that he actually does care and I do really like that about him.
I also want to see him and his relationship with Towa evolve. I kind of already had a feeling that Towa wasn't a big Ren fan towards the beginning, neither person understands the other it seems, and it makes me want to see what Ren's thoughts are about Towa. Towa calls Ren an interloper, so it's obvious that he doesn't think that Ren belongs there, and Ren would probably agree, but then I remember what Kaito said in the prologue about Jabberwock needed someone grounded, someone to tell them when one of their ideas are kinda dumb or they're doing too much. That's why I also believe that when Ren does become a second year, he won't actually want to transfer houses anymore. I think he'll warm up to the house, Haru and Towa.
My apologies, my plan was to discuss all of Jabberwock but it turned into a Ren rave session!
I also really like Ren, so no worries. If you have more thoughts about all of Jabberwock you can send them my way, you aren't limited in your asks.
A couple things of note~
Jabberwock did have general admission students at one point, Kaito tells us at the school administration only stopped this recently. This makes me think that something occurred during the clash that made them deem the house unsafe, perhaps something to do with Towa since the school feels the need to be "careful with him."
Actually while I am talking about Towa, I have this thought... crack conspiracy theory if you will since I have next to no evidence for it but just hear me out- What if he wasn't always human? Animals becoming human is a common theme in myths, he could have wished on his demon to become human, and if he was maybe some sort of powerful anomalous creature it would explain his ability to "control" them... and why it's different from his stigma which appears to be controlling weather. And why he loves Haru so much! All the anomalous creatures do! And why he eats flowers and why his blood type is unknown and his obsession with romance because he probably finds it a bit silly and why he hugs MC after she says she thinks anomalous animals aren't so different than people and-
Anyway I got Jabberwock in my little dorm test at the beginning (they were always going to be my boys, for better or worse) and during that sorting Hyde specifically says "Interesting, so you value trust, huh? You're caring and loyal in all your endeavors." So when I saw Ren get sorted into Jabberwock that's what I immediately thought about. Ren appears to be filling our gamer/otaku trope in the roster, so seeing him as someone who values trust isn't really hard for me. He probably was thinking about how he wanted people he could be himself with, and while Haru and Towa are certainly out there that's not beyond them to do. If anything they seem like the most accepting people in the whole school, their little group really does feel like a family. It's nice.
I hadn't actually thought much about Haru's gloved hand since one glove on and one glove off isn't exactly uncommon (Ace Trappola Twisted Wonderland only wears one in his school uniform cards) but I went back and checked the available card art in the game just in case I had missed something. Haru always wears two gloves unless he's in his casual outfit, where he has just the one or his sprite after being injured where he has his gloved hand and then his bandaged one. I don't have an sr or ssr of him so I can't set him to my homescreen to check what his Nightmare Raid sprite would be, but since Tohma is still wearing his monocole for that idk if I would say that counts as evidence. It could be that he has a prosthetic of some sort, he is always over working himself so I could see him injuring his hand to the point where he needs one? But I am uncertain if he has one now.
I think a lot of my opinion about Ren and his social aversions sort of comes from my own thinking about my anxiety disorder... simply put it is not healthy for humans to spend as much time alone as Ren is trying to and even if it drains you, you need to push yourself to interact with people face to face. Not just online. It's work, ugly hard work but you have to do it so seeing him interact with Haru and the animals and just try. It makes me so proud of him I really want to see where he goes from here.
I don't think anyone's pointed it out yet, but I think he might know Sho. He refers to him in his thoughts as "that burn out" and constantly hides from interacting with him. He is also VERY AFRAID of the water, specifically sea water, which makes his efforts to save Calamari just that much more admirable. Sure, he complained the whole time, but he fought his own fears to save the life of an animal because he is caring and loyal and god I was so proud of him!!!! Go Ren!!!! I agree that I don't think he'll leave in his second year, he's a lot more "normal" than Haru and Towa are but still just crazy enough to fit in to their little group. They really do need him, and I'm sure he will realize that he needs them too after a while.
Towa has difficulty communicating in general due to his non verbal nature (as a side note, this seems to be tied to time of day. he's been chilling on my homescreen and he stays non verbal until around sometime between 3-5 est??? Which according to my brief google search is around 4-6 am jst... I need to pay closer attention) he seems to try and give flowers to communicate? Of the flowers he has given out, wolfsbane symbolizes misanthropy? "A dislike of human kind" so I think he is using that to say "I don't like you D:<" to Haru when he is chilling injured on the couch. He both calls and gives MC a dandelion, which symbolizes "hope, healing, and resilience" and you could also point out how some people see it as a weed despite it being a very useful plant. And in his homescreen lines he gives MC a five leafed clover (good luck) and cherry blossom petals (death, beauty, and violence). He says he keeps some petals in his memory box? And seems to expect you to eat them so it could be nothing but the idea of him with an angry pout collecting plants just to say "harumph. i don't like you right now ୧(๑•̀ᗝ•́)૭" is just too cute.
Back to his and Ren's relationship though, I think he probably sees Ren as annoying in the same way a particularly bratty child does a new younger sibling. It used to just be him and Haru but now there's this new kid that Haru is putting a bunch of time into and that means less time with him! Also it probably doesn't help that he slacks on his chores around the dorm. The book 3 mission seems to have helped bring them together a little bit, so I am looking forward to when we hear from them again.
Because we had better do you hear me game, we had fucking better!!!
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ambrosiagourmet · 3 months
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I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:
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So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.
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In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.
At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.
And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.
Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.
If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.
We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:
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So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.
Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."
So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.
However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.
Isn't that the same thing?
No, no it very much is not.
Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:
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Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.
But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.
If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.
Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.
Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.
Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.
We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.
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And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.
So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.
It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.
And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:
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Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.
And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.
We see her choose to come back to life.
And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:
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Do you want to eat more?
There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.
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When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.
But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.
And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.
It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.
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musical-chick-13 · 10 months
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I hate Raúl/Sofía :)
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drefear · 9 months
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Imagine reader artist, who loves to draw Miguel. And the other day she's just drawing naked Miguel's body. He saw it and just smirks and say: "I've got bigger than that" or "I could show/pose for accuracy"
TW: raunchy smut, Dom!miguel, fem reader, smut with no plot.
A/N: I wrote half of this while at work and a little drunk. So here ya go. Also currently in the process of writing a part two.
Miguel’s face filled your sketchbook, his back in his spider suit, his mask, every angle you could find him at. You often sat in his office for hours while he did reports, sketching him and drawing him. You loved using different mediums and colors, giving him new features and styles. You specifically loved practicing drawing his broad body and sculpted as-
Ahem. Legs.
Yes, ok, fine, you had a small crush on your boss, whatever, no big deal.
You would purposefully finish all of your work as fast as possible so you could sit back and draw him. And because you weren’t loud or annoying, and everything was always done on time and orderly, he let you.
But one mission in particular made him stressed out, and as you watched him filling out data about the anomaly he’d just captured, he glitched his suit down his torso and injected himself with that mysterious green liquid, entrancing you for those glorious few seconds.
It was very obvious he had a nice body, duh. But you never let your mind go too far in imagining him out of his suit, scared to go into a territory you couldn’t back out of.
And now you did, drawing his torso and pecks, shading his abs, and this got you curious about more.
Lower.
Biting your lip, you sat in the cafeteria a few days later. You purposefully sat with your back to a wall, making sure no one could sneak up on you and see what you were drawing, as you drew him laying down. His arms splayed behind his head, face relaxed, as you defined his leg muscles. As you finished the piece of art, the only area you’d avoided was his groin.
And now you stared at the empty area of art, knee bouncing from anxiety about how you were supposed to draw this. You had no reference for him. Yes, you’d seen dicks before, obviously. You lived in a universe with unrestricted internet access, so it’s not like you’d never been around the block, but here you were, blushing like a 15 year old just because of a dick.
Drawing and then erasing and drawing, you repeated the process a few times before you heard someone click their tongue in front of you. You’d been so consumed by what you were doing, you didn’t even feel your spider senses or hear them come close.
Miguel stood with an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips, eyeing you curiously. “Why are you so jumpy?” He asked and you snatched the book in front of you to your chest, stuttering some bullshit answer about too much caffeine. He just nodded and continued giving you a new order.
You got up from your seat and moved to follow him to his cold, dark lair area. As you were about to step onto his platform, you tripped and your hands flew out to stabilize your fall. As you did, the notebook flew across the floor and slid as your vision blurred from how fast you’d collapsed, getting up slowly and rolling your shoulders. You reached to where the sketch book had fallen, but it was no longer there.
No.
NO.
It was between his fingers, as he flipped through the pages slowly, eyeing your work with his brows furrowed, focused. You jumped towards him and he just turned his back, making you feel like you ran into a wall. You reached around him and he webbed your wrist to the table beside you, still not tearing his eyes from your work.
“Stop, that’s private! Give it back!” You shouted and he rolled his eyes briefly.
“It’s all drawings of me, I think I’m allowed to see-“ and his words stopped as he flipped to the newest page.
The nude drawing of him.
You gulped as his expression became unreadable, stoic, and your eyes flashed between the art and him. “I-I was just practicing forms and poses-“
“It’s… inaccurate.” He spoke lowly before your eyes blinked for a moment, confused.
“What do you mean?”
He walked to you and stood tall, bending down slightly to stare directly into your eyes. His mouth turned up at the ends and his eyes glittered with something you’d never seen in him before.
Turning the book back to you and showing you your own drawing, he smirked deeper.
“I’m much bigger.” His eyes were almost challenging you, making your blood run ice cold, and you felt his hands yank your body against his. “Do you want to see for reference?”
And then his watch made a loud sound, Lyla popping up to explain some anomaly on earth number whatever. He groaned and turned to walk out. “I’ll be back once this is done. Don’t go anywhere because When I do return, we’re continuing where we left off.”
Then he was gone and you stood, mouth agape from the whole exchange. You thought it might take a while for him to capture this anomaly, so You’d decided to go back to your own universe in preparation, showering and fixing yourself up. You bit your nail nervously as you thought about it all. Was he serious? No way, right…?
As you stood in the bathroom mirror, the sound of a portal opening cut through your mind like a knife, making your body rush into your living room. You gripped the towel tight around your torso as you saw Miguel walk out of the colorful dimension behind him and into yours. The portal closed and with that, his mask disintegrated so you could see his face. A bit tired, he still had a less-than-enthusiastic expression on.
“I thought I told you not to go anywhere.” He repeated and you stood stuff as a board, now a bit scared. He took slow, calculated steps towards you as your head tilted back to continue watching him. “Inaccurate and disobedient. I have a lot to teach you, don’t I?” His index finger hooked under your chin as he smirked and grabbed your hand with his free one, pulling you into your bathroom. He looked around for a second before hitting a button on his watch and letting the fabric disappear.
You bit your lip as your eyes took full advantage of his exposed skin. “You- it-“
“Yeah. I know.” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around, bending you over your counter with your hand breached against your back. “Now I want you to really study how I fuck you, so that you get a good look at how big I am, and how easy I can maneuver this body.” He whispered into your damp hair and pushed down, then ripping the towel away and throwing it out of the bathroom completely.
His eyes stared down at your weeping cunt and he licked his lips. “I’ll be tasting you another time. Today, I want you to really feel my size.” He was cocky, and he had a right to be. His dick was huge, almost alarmingly big.
The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you clenched your jaw. “It’s gonna hurt, but I’ll go slow. That way you can feel good and still learn.” He cooed in a teasing tone and your eyes found his in the mirror, watching intently as he began to push into you. The sudden width he was stretching you to was mind numbing and your knees began to buckle, but he just held you up with one hand, the other still guiding himself into you.
“Coño, your sucking me in so nicely, might not even need to slow down.” He spoke and your eyes were rolling back from his words, to which you snapped out of once his hand that was holding you up held your face harshly towards the mirror. “No slacking, little girl. You better keep your eyes on my cock.”
Halfway inside, and you were already fluttering around him, on the verge of orgasm. “That’s it, sucia, cum on my cock. It’ll be the first time of many.” You shivered at his words, feeling him sink in further and immediately orgasming. The rolls of pleasure washing through you made him grunt as his hips couldn’t help but rut into you harshly. The lack of prep had you feeling everything he was giving you, hyper aware of your insides wrapping around him.
“Mm, wanna fuck me back? Grind back onto my cock? Paciencia, Nena.” He instructed as you kept trying to get him in further. Wrapping a hand around your torso, he tweeked at your nipples and made you gasp from the sensation. “That’s it,” he mumbled.
Finally, smirked, he chuckled darkly as you tried once more to thrust backwards. “Fine, you asked for it.” He met your eyes in the mirror, now blood red and swirling with the threat as he snapped his hips forward and forced the rest of him into you, making you gargle out a strained sound in shock and pleasure. The pain was beautiful, and began to subside quickly as you felt him twitch. He hit every spot and more, feeling new depths and points of pleasure.
Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as he started a slightly faster pace. Your body jiggled from the movements and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled your apartment, your mouth hanging open as your eyes never left were his dick was buried into you. He smiled, enjoying the way you watched his cock disappear into you over and over, and you felt the pressure building once more. How he bullied your cunt and grinned while doing it made you burst, tears breaking free and a scream ripping through you as your pussy squeezed him.
“Fuck, so tight.” He groaned, head now falling back and he kept going, beginning to chase his own high. Your mind had shut off now, fucked practically stupid on his cock and he rocking into you mercilessly. His speed was unmatched and he moved to pick up your hips to meet his, closing the gap your height difference had created, and finally having him slam into you until his hips met your ass, making you choke on your own oxygen from the absolute brutal beating he was giving your cervix.
He slid one hand to the back of your neck and pressed you further into the counter top of your sink, forcing your pert nipples to meet the cold marble and you cried out more, barely able to push back against him now as you were trapped between his body and your bathroom’s confinements with only your top toes touching the floor. Your face was streaked with tears as he grunted and let out ragged breaths.
“The perfect little pussy, so perfect for my cock. You can take it, little artist. You wanted to draw my cock so badly, now you have the perfect image to do it. Fucked deep inside of you. Draw us like this for me, yeah? I wanna see it everyday. Or should I just fuck you every day instead?” His words tumbled from his mouth like an avalanche and you could feel his cock about to burst, making you teeter over that cliff as well. “That’s it, strangle my cock. Cum all over me, niña, paint me with your cute cunt.” He demanded and you obliged, feeling a shooting electric sensation rip out of you. Suddenly, you were both a bit wet between the thighs and he was mesmerized by what he saw. Your juices squirt all over him and he came instantly after seeing that, pounding into you as far as he could and forcing his cum the deepest it could be inside of you.
Both of you were unmoving as you caught your breath, a layer of sweat covering you both as you stared at each other in the mirror. No words could describe what had just happened and Miguel smiled once more, which prompted you to ask.
“What?”
“You need to get a mirror by your bed. Because I want to do this to you every day.” He watched your eyes widen in the mirror in front of you both as he licked your neck from behind and sinking his fangs into your soft skin, jutting his hips once more and making you realize he was still hard.
“For art purposes.”
Part two is out!
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neechees · 1 year
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Negative & racist depictions, tropes, and Stereotypes regarding Native Americans in Road to El Dorado.
Mayaincatec: The film homogenizes multiple Indigenous cultures cultures into one, specifically and mainly Maya and Nahua cultures, with the story being based on a mythical place set in Colombia.
Mighty Whitey: the basis of the film comes from the Spanish lie and myth that the Indigenous Aztec population worshipped them as gods, with the city of El Dorado doing the same with Miguel and Tulio, who use this to trick Native people to steal gold from them.
Oversexualized Native Woman: Chel’s character has overemphasis on her sex appeal and sexuality, with her character design being very revealing and exageratted on her chest, hips, and thighs. There is little to no exploration of her character outside of her sexuality and servitude towards the White characters. She does not pass the Aila Test and is a near opposite. Chel is a perfect example of how many Native female characters are sexualized
Evil Shaman: The Native religious leader Tzekel-Kan is demonized as evil & plays a heavier role as the main antagonist instead of the famed genocidal colonizer Hernan Cortez. Tzekel-Kan being enslaved by Cortez at the end is depicted as a “good ending”.
Demonized Spiritualiity: connected to the above, all scenes depicting traditional Mesoamerican spirituality/religion or practices are shown as evil, barbaric, savage, scary, and associated with the main antagonist.
White Saviors: El Dorado is saved by the main White protagonists, the idea to destroy the gates to the city is Tulio’s idea, the warriors of El Dorado are portrayed as helpless and no match for the Spanish conquistadors despite Indigenous Mexican warriors going toe to toe with them, and winning against them in various battles in real life.
Whitewashed Colonialism: Cortez, despite being one of the worst colonizers in history, serves as a minor, secondary antagonist & his evilness is only vaguely implied, and never explained why it (his actions) is bad. Cortez has the same goal as Miguel and Tulio (to steal gold from Indigenous people), but the protagonists aren’t shown as bad for doing it. Colonization is essentially excused (& is never explicitly named as harmful) as long as the colonizers are “nice” about it.
There’s likely some other stuff I’m missing but these are some of the big ones that are shown in this film, & its depictions of Indigenous Peoples are extremely harmful. I also don’t wanna see anybody trying to defend any of these with somehow implying “Well it’s not ACTUALLY racist or harmful because-” etc etc save it for a vague post and take our inability to see criticism of racism within a movie you like elsewhere.
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prythianpages · 4 months
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A Field of Dandelions
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azriel x witch!reader | Your High Lady calls upon you. requesting a remedy that only you know how to make. It requires specific ingredients found between the courts of spring and autumn and you're in need of an escort. Unfortunately for you, she assigns her Shadowsinger to accompany you. The Shadowsinger who hates you...or so you thought.
“Please don’t talk to me like that.”
“Why?”
“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.”
warnings: angst but with fluff at the end, mentions of self-hate/abuse. pretty much Azriel thinking he's not worthy of a mate.
a/n: I've been re-reading the Shatter Me series and there's a scene between Aaron and Juliette that drove me to make this along with the song Dandelions by Ruth B. The dialogue above is directly from the book Unravel Me. I used them as a writing prompt along with the general gist of the scene and added my own twist to it. I just wanted to put that disclaimer out there.
**
The door opens before you can even knock and your dear friend and High Lady pulls you into a warm hug. She beckons you inside with a smile and your eyes dart around the various paintings adorning the walls, finding that some are new.
Surprise etches onto your features when your eyes land on the Night Court’s Spymaster. He stands at the end of one of the winding staircases with his usual stoic expression. Still as devastatingly handsome as always. You drop your gaze as quickly as you had met his and if he notices it, he doesn’t let it show. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence.
Your ears pick up on faint crying. It grows louder and louder. Turning your head toward the source, your eyes land on Nyx. Despite being in the comfort of his father’s arms, his little features contort in pain. You greet your High Lord with a bow of your head, noticing the exhaustion on his face that mirrors Feyre’s.
“Is Mor on her way?” You ask, adjusting the strap of your bag. It’s full with all necessary tools and equipment you need for your venture.
Feyre had requested if you could make a tonic to sooth Nyx’s aches while he’s teething but your apothecary shop was unfortunately out of the main ingredient. Dandelion root. Not just any dandelion root but the ones that grow in the soil between the courts of Spring and Autumn and given the current tensions in Prythian and your status as a former Spring court inhabitant, it was not safe for you to go alone.
“Oh,” Feyre says as she takes the babe into her arms. You coo at Nyx and he blinks up at you, his crying coming to a stop. His lips tug up into a small smile and he wraps a tiny hand around your finger. “She is unfortunately caught up in Vallahan.”
“So then Cassian is to escort me today?” You ask again, looking up at your friend.
You catch the way she looks at Rhysand. They share a look and you know they’re communicating to each other through their mind. It’s Rhysand who answers you this time.
“Cassian isn’t fond of the spring, allergies and all.”
The Shadowsinger steps forward and your smile falls. You turn back to your friend, who gives you a sheepish smile in return.
“Azriel will be escorting you today.”
You almost want to say no. The thought of being alone with Azriel makes your stomach churn with unease and something else that you can’t quite discern at the moment. But Nyx begins to squirm in his mother’s arms with a pout and Feyre’s eyebrows knit in concern.
“Okay,” you sigh.
“Thank you so much for doing this,” Feyre says.
“Our son’s life is in your hands.”
Feyre slaps her husband’s arm with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not dying, Rhys,” she grumbles. “He’s just in some discomfort from teething.”
She then turns to Azriel with a stern look. The corner of her lips threatened to betray her. “Be nice.”
**
Azriel’s shadows envelop you both, whisking you away to the forest of the Spring Court. It was the safest of the two courts to winnow directly to. The air in the dense woods hangs heavy with the scent of blooming blossoms and you’re thankful for the muffled sounds of nature as it provides a soothing background noise, saving you from the awkward silence between you and the impassive Shadowsinger.
Azriel walks ahead, his movements graceful and quiet. His shadows cling to him like the loyal companions they are but some hover over your boots, silencing your own steps. 
He finally breaks the silence. “You’re staring.”
You shift your gaze immediately and wonder if he can also sense the pink that dusts your slightly flustered face. “I’m just surprised you’re the one escorting me,” you answer honestly.
“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” he responds cryptically.
A slight tension settles between you, your heartbeat quickening as you follow him through the forest. “Right,” you say, your face growing pinker.
You shift the weight of your bag to your other shoulder and Azriel comes to a sudden stop. He turns, his hazel eyes scanning you for a moment. Without a word, he takes the bag from your arm, effortlessly hoisting it over his shoulder. 
The unexpected gesture catches you off guard, and a quiet "thanks" escapes your lips. “You’re being awfully nice today,” you can’t help but observe, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your tone “I think this is the most you’ve talked to me since we met.”
Azriel’s lips curve into an almost-smile. A rare sight that sends a flutter through your chest. “My High Lady told me to be nice.”
“Right,” you repeat quietly to yourself as you exhale, a futile effort to calm your fluttering nerves. It’s almost embarrassing the effect Azriel has on you and as the butterflies in your stomach stir, you hope that the rest of the day unfolds quickly.
**
Mates. Two individuals predestined to be together, brought together by unseen forces and an irresistible bond. Azriel once wondered if he had a mate but after centuries of living, he began to wonder if he was simply destined to be alone.
When his brothers found their mates and he still hadn’t found his, he started to think he was far beyond the reach of love. It was a blessing he could not have. He didn’t need a mate, so he convinced himself he didn’t want one. Romance was not part of his duties and he was starting to come to terms with the fact. 
That is, until, he met you.
Nestled right on the outskirts of the area known as the Rainbow of Velaris was a quaint shop. The wooden sign above, engraved with dark letters spelling out Nightrose Apothecary, swayed gently in the cool morning breeze. Azriel had ignored the frenzied whirlwind of his shadows as he stepped into the shop.
Shelves made of twisted vines and polished wood were neatly arranged with rows of glass jars containing colorful powders, dried herbs and exotic roots. A friendly black cat, lounging on the sunlit windowsill, blinked at him in greeting. As he stepped further into the shop, his senses became overwhelmed with the prominent scent of lavender and chamomile.
Behind a worn, wooden counter is where you stood. You hummed to yourself, immersed in the book in front of you. He found himself unable to take his eyes off of you as you skimmed over the rough edged pages, your fingertips carrying an enchanting green glow and eyes filled with darkness. 
You were a witch but it was no surprise to him. He had heard about you. You were a good friend of Feyre’s. One of the few people she could trust during her time in the Spring court. When the Spring Court fell into chaos, Feyre had brought you with her and helped you open up this shop.
His steps were silent and he’s sure you’re unaware of his presence, so he shifted, parting his mouth to speak–
“Hello, Shadowsinger.”
His steps faltered, eyes widening for a fleeting moment.
When you finally lifted your gaze to meet his, his eyes locked with yours and something deep within him awakened. An exhilarating feeling like no other. He felt light. He felt alive. And he was almost afraid to blink, not wanting the feeling to end.
His shadows peeked out from behind his limbs, curious to see what had their master in a chokehold. They dispersed from his body in a thrilled dance as the darkness left your eyes, revealing their natural color. They’re beautiful and sparkling with kindness, even as his shadows disobey his silent orders and slither up your arms in a cool greeting.
“I’m sorry,” he found himself apologizing, a slight tint in his cheeks. “They usually don’t do that.”
“It’s okay,” you brushed off his worry and he felt lightheaded and bewitched at the smile you directed toward him. “What brings you here?”
Azriel can’t help but feel that you already know why he’s there. He pulled his gaze away, choosing to focus on the crystal orbs on the counter instead. “My High Lady recommended I come to you. I’ve been having trouble…sleeping.”
The green glow returned to your fingertips as you beckoned a small clear vial from one of the shelves behind you. It’s filled with a silver liquid that glistened as it moved, mirroring the twinkle of the stars that light up the night sky.
“This should help.” You told him as you held out the vial to him. “Take a sip before you’re ready for bed and it should quickly pull you into a restful slumber. Some say it even brings forth sweet dreams.”
Azriel nodded his head, taking the small vial from you with a gloved hand. He stored it carefully into the chest pocket of his leathers. His hands then dug into the pockets of his pants but you held out a hand to stop him.
“It’s on the house.”
“But–”
“Any friend of Fey–the High Lady’s is a friend of mine.”
His throat tightened as he realized it’s time for him to leave and he doesn’t want to. He’s caught in a whirlwind of emotions and finds himself torn between hope and fear. Or maybe he fears what it means to be hopeful because for once in his life, he wants something.
He wants you. His mate.
But as he thanked you for your kind gesture, he realized that the bond must have not snapped for you as it had for him. So he reluctantly went on with his day and when the sky darkened and stars awakened, he took a sip from the small vial. He had the best sleep of his life that night and dreamt about you.
The next morning he asked Rhysand and Feyre about what he had experienced because he couldn’t believe it himself. They confirmed his suspicions and they were both delighted. Feyre even more so as you were her dear friend.  
She had taken it upon herself to bring you two together. Her first attempt was a family dinner. It was going well until Elain had spotted a spider and upon the small scream she let out, Nesta had rushed to kill it for her. Your distress was impossible to turn a blind eye to and Feyre quietly asked if you were alright.
“It didn’t need to die,” is all you quietly said, your eyes lined with silver.
Witches were one with nature and given your niche with herbs and creation, Azriel realized the depth of your admiration for all life that night. Then, another harrowing one. You were so innocent, so pure. He was guilty, hands tainted and stained red. He didn’t deserve you.
The Cauldron must’ve made a mistake.
Feyre was undeterred so she gave it another attempt, despite Azriel’s protest. She arranged a night out at Rita’s for the Inner Circle and invited you. Azriel didn’t plan on going but Rhysand had made sure his schedule was clear and when Feyre had sent him an image of you in a skin tight dress, he came as quickly as he could. 
But it was too late.
He arrived to find a high fae leaning toward you in interest and you were smiling at him. A smile Azriel wanted reserved just for him. The male had placed a hand at your waist and Azriel felt his stomach churn when you laughed at something he had said. A sound he wished to be the cause of. You seemed happy and who was he to stand in your way?
The male was everything Azriel was not. Blond, blue eyed and perfectly smooth hands–hands that were all over you and welcomed by you. He unconsciously hid his scarred hands behind his back and when your gaze met his across the room, he looked away. 
Azriel was not worthy of you. He didn’t deserve to have you as his mate. So he reminded himself that romance was not part of his duties and convinced himself that the Cauldron, had indeed, made a mistake. 
He couldn’t bear the thought of being just a friend to you. The mere idea pained him so much that he pushed you away. He didn’t return to your apothecary when he finished the vial you’d given him–not even when his nights became restless again and dark circles appeared beneath his eyes. When he’d see you walking along the streets of Velaris, he’d turn the other away and when you would visit Feyre and he was there, he’d find an excuse to leave.
But there was one thing he couldn’t shake off–the primal instinct to protect you. It was the least he could do for you as he felt indebted to you for the Cauldron’s mistake. 
So when he heard you needed an escort to the border between the Spring and Autumn courts, he was the first to volunteer, despite Mor and Cassian also offering.
**
It’s as if the ground beneath you comes to life in your presence. Birds fly over you, chirping and singing a beautiful melody. As you pass, buds blossom into beautiful flowers as if enchanted by you. Even the animals emerge from their hidden abodes. The squirrels playfully dart between branches while a family of deer gracefully emerges from the trees.
It becomes evident that nature itself is captivated by your presence. and it extends beyond nature, weaving its magic onto Azriel as well. It reaches into the very heart of the Shadowsinger, casting an enchanting spell that even he cannot escape.
A blue butterfly dances playfully around Azriel. It startles him, pulling him out of his trance and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes from you. You raise a finger and the butterfly lands on it softly.
“Hello, little one,” you coo softly. You turn to Azriel, holding out your finger to him. “Would you like to hold it?”
“No.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you scared of a butterfly?”
Azriel does not answer your question. Instead, his eyes dart around the forest that still stirs with liveliness around you. “What happened to keeping a low profile?”
“Sorry,” you apologize, even though it’s not your fault. The butterfly grants you one last flutter of its wings before gracefully flying away. “I can’t help but be admired by many.”
Azriel lets out a hum. You’re too distracted to pick up on the subtle resonance of agreement, your eyes widening as the meadow finally comes into view in the distance.
**
You inhale deeply, flooding your senses with the delicate fragrance surrounding you–a symphony of floral notes. Time seems to slow and your worries dissipate away as you kneel down, gently touching the soft sea of green, white and yellow. The gentle sway of the dandelions becomes a mesmerizing dance, their feathery plumes catching the morning breeze like wishes ready to be set free.
Azriel watches you and his eyes are a reflection of an adoration deeper than any meadow bloom. There’s a bittersweet ache in his chest. You close your eyes, a serene expression on your face. Strands of sunlight weave through your hair, creating a halo of warmth and Azriel finds it hard to breathe when your lips bloom into a tender smile.
Your eyes open and meet his hazel eyes and suddenly, he’s looking away. He clears his throat, eyes looking around the field. “What’s so special about this place?” He asks, a desperate attempt to reclaim the distance between desire and reality.
“All life is a delicate balance of give and take. Spring brings forth new life and beauty, new beginnings. Autumn leaves showers of gold, recognizing the temporary nature of all things. “ You answer as if it's common knowledge and upon the bewildered expression on Azriel’s face, you offer the simpler explanation:  “The soil between Spring and Autumn is very potent.” 
“These are weeds. They’ll grow anywhere.” Azriel deadpans. He regrets it immediately at the brief darkening of your eyes and the slight frown that forms at his casual dismissal.
“You may see a weed,” you begin, plucking a single dandelion from the ground as you rise to your feet. You approach the Shadowsinger. “But I see wishes.”
You extend the dandelion to him with a softness in your eyes that he’s never been on the receiving end of. “They say a single dandelion possesses the power to grant one-hundred wishes. But their beauty lies in their resilience because when they fall apart, they simply start again. A reminder to us all of boundless hope.”
Azriel hesitates, his gaze fixed on the dandelion. His gloved fingers brush against yours and for a fleeting moment, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his. The mere thought dares to send a shiver through him but he swiftly pushes the thought away. He doesn’t deserve you.
You smile at him as he carefully accepts the delicate stem from you. His shadows remain dispersed around the field but from where he stands, he can feel them vibrating in a joyful dance. Your smile is so bright, so dazzling and for the first time since he met you, it’s all for him. A sudden warmth floods through him, a sensation he never anticipated, and he finds himself utterly captivated.
“Make a wish,” you whisper to him, your voice a gentle prompt that lingers in the air like a spell waiting to be cast.
Azriel is not one to believe in things like this but he finds himself surrendering to the magic of the moment. For you.
Under the tender gaze of a field of dandelions, he closes his eyes. He lets out a silent breath, and makes a wish. A gentle breeze courses through you both in that moment. The dandelion’s wispy seeds take flight, unraveling into a delicate constellation of possibilities. 
The soft bristles of hope travel through the air and find their way to you and a laugh escapes from you in response to the tickling sensation as they caress your face. Azriel’s heart feels strangely gentle–as if the weight that often accompanies his existence has momentarily dissipated. His entire body seems to soften in the glow of your laughter and a rare smile graces his lips.
He’s stuck in a trance, mesmerized by you, failing to catch the sounds of the creatures approaching. Before he knows it, there are arrows whistling around you both. He barely has enough time to respond as one hisses by his ear and darts to you. He immediately raises his hand up, his shadows rushing to the rescue and forming a protective shield around you both.
**
Your eyes are wide as you stare at the tip of an arrow that is a couple of inches away from you. It’s coated with blood. Azriel’s blood. Your breath hitches at the sight. There's an arrow embedded into his gloved hand and if it weren’t for Azriel’s other hand at the small of your back, you would’ve fallen backwards.
“Are you alright?” His gaze is examining you carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
You blink at his words. “Are you alright?”
“Well, well, well.” A voice drawls followed by deep, rumbling growls from the hounds that surround you. They’re kept at bay by Azriel’s shadows. “What do we have here?”
Azriel turns around, ready to face the threat head on. His shadows remain at your side protectively. Some slither up and down your arms, their touch aimed at offering comfort and reassurance. 
“Eris.”
The red head smirks and his teeth flash when he catches the sight of the Shadowsinger’s injured and bleeding hand. “My apologies,” Eris sneers. “If I had known it was you, I would’ve aimed for the heart.”
A sound escapes from you–one you didn’t know you were capable of making and you step out from the shadows. It draws Eris’s attention to you. His amber eyes drink you in and you feel Azriel stiffen beside you. The Autumn’s male’s eyes land on the obsidian necklace around your neck and they narrow.
“What is a witch doing in my lands?” His hounds that are still surrounding let out another growl, prompted by their master’s tone of voice. They snap their teeth menacingly.
But you’re unfazed.
Perhaps, it’s Azriel’s protective shadows or the overwhelming anger set alight by Eris’s words that grant you the confidence and push you forward. Your eyes fill with darkness, resembling a night sky without any stars and Azriel can feel the energy coursing through your veins as you call upon your magic.
“Keep wasting the air with that breath of yours and I might just cur–”
A hand comes over your mouth, stopping you from saying anything else and you’re being pulled flush into Azriel’s chest. You grimace at the taste of leather and squirm only for Azriel’s arms to tighten around you.
“Cute,” Eris remarks with a hint of amusement but there’s an unmistakable fear that flashes in his eyes for a short lived moment.
 “We’re just passing through,” Azriel states, his voice void of emotion. 
Eris observes you both in contemplative silence. He must discern something in Azriel that prompts him to stand down. With a thoughtful hum, he gracefully turns away. His hounds follow suit and as he walks away, he calls over his shoulders: “Make it quick.”
You watch as Eris disappears into the forest, still wrapped tightly in Azriel’s arms. It isn’t until Eris is completely out of view that you squirm again and without thinking, you bite on his gloved hand. Hard. Azriel flinches and finally releases his grip on you.
You turn to him with a glare that he returns.
“Threatening to curse the heir to Autumn? Are you out of your mind?”
“I should curse you for stopping me!” You exclaim, crossing your arms with a scowl. Your gaze then softens as you quietly add:  “He hurt you.”
“Gods,” Azriel breathes, stepping away from you and tilting his head backwards. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
“You mean besides piss you off by merely existing?” You huff as you snatch your bag away from him to get the jars you brought. “Can’t imagine it gets any worse than that.”
**
The walk to your apartment is silent and you begin to wonder if you should apologize for your outburst earlier. It was not within your nature to raise your voice at anyone…or harbor anger toward someone. But Eris had tried to hurt you, hurt Azriel and then shamelessly sneered about it.
Azriel follows you into your home, watching as you set the ingredients you collected down. He expects you to bid him farewell and kick him out but as you turn to him and your gaze falls to his injured hand, you sigh.
“Come on,” you offer, reaching out for his hand and he recoils. You frown.  “Does it hurt?”
“No.” 
You know he’s lying by the way his jaw clenches and you can’t help but notice that he appears to be repelled by your touch. You almost laugh. “I promise I won’t curse you. I actually never cursed anyone before.”
Azriel’s expression remains unreadable.
“Just let me see. I can help you.”
“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth.
“You’re bleeding all over my floor.” You say in hopes to get him to accept your help and when it doesn’t, you cross your arms against your chest. “Do you really hate me that much? To be repulsed by my touch?”
“I don’t hate you.” Azriel confesses and his voice is much quieter, much softer when he speaks again. “I could never.”
Azriel holds your gaze in contemplation for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see his shadows pushing him toward you so you try again. This time, when you step forward, your hand reaching for him, he doesn’t pull away. 
 “Sit,” you tell him, nodding your head at one of the chairs in your kitchen. 
With a hard swallow, he does. He is entirely still as you hold his gloved hand in yours. Even his shadows are eerily still as if holding their breath. His eyes are boring into you with an intensity that heats your skin. You bring your other hand up, a soft green glow emitting from your fingertips. With the help of your magic, you carefully take the arrow out, drawing a sharp gasp from him. 
“Sorry,” you say, turning your attention to his glove next. You use your magic to remove it as well, not wanting to cause him any more pain or discomfort.
As the green mist of your magic dissipates, revealing the scarred skin beneath, your eyes widen. The scars are extensive, streaking around his fingers and the palm of his hand and the bleeding gash in the middle is nothing compared to them. You lift your gaze to meet his only to find his eyes are dead of emotion.
“Azriel.�� You breathe and it’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his name and it sounds so pretty, so beautiful but the way you’re looking at him…
“Don’t.” His throat feels tight and he starts to withdraw his hand from yours but you stop him. You want to know who hurt him this deeply. Today was a day of firsts for you–first smile from Azriel, first time you ever felt so angry, first time you growled at someone and you were more than willing to add another first to that list. Cursing someone.
But Azriel looks like he’s about to break so you push your rage aside. Realization dawns on you as you now understand why he’s always wearing gloves around you, why he avoided you at all costs before. Your heart aches.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” you say softly as you begin to heal his hand. “Your scars may forever carry their stories with them but they do not define you. Your heart does and I can see it now. It’s bright and beautiful. You’re beautiful and–”
“y/n,” he almost begs. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”
The gash on his palm is now completely healed and you tighten your hold on it. “Why?”
“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.” His voice drops to a pained whisper and his eyes are fluttering shut, body trembling. Shadows cling on to him, embracing him in an attempt to comfort their master. You’ve never beheld anything more heartbreaking.
“Do you think that lowly of me?” You begin, your voice quiet. “That I would be put off by your scars?”
When he doesn’t answer, your free hand reaches for his face, lifting his chin up. But his eyes are still closed and deep lines form on his forehead because your skin is so soft, so warm and he’s not worthy.
“Azriel,” you steady your breath. “You’re my mate.”
His eyes shoot open, hazel orbs glistening with tears as he looks up at you. “You know?”
“I’ve known since the moment I met you.” You confess with a pained smile. “I wanted to tell you right away but I didn’t want to scare you and when I was ready to tell you, you were avoiding me. I thought you hated me because, well, I’m a witch and not everyone is fond of them.”
“But that night at Rita’s–”
“My stupid attempt at making you jealous,” you explain to him sheepishly. “I thought it would prompt you to talk to me but it backfired immensely.”
Silence falls over you two. 
“I’m sorry.”
Your eyebrows furrow. “For what?”
“For being your mate.” Azriel responds. “I don’t deserve you. My hands are not only scarred but stained red. I’ve tortured many. I’ve killed many. You value life but I take it.”
“I value innocent life. It’s my duty to protect nature–to protect those that cannot speak for themselves.” You clarify. “I understand that it’s your duty to protect this court. I don’t see you any different for it.”
The hand at his face drops and you use it to remove the glove from his other hand. Your hands grasp onto his larger ones and you lace your fingers with his, embracing the thickened and roughened skin. Azriel’s breath hitches.
 “This can’t be real,” he murmurs to himself, dropping his gaze. “In that field of dandelions, I wished upon every one of them. For you.”
“Magic doesn’t work that way,” you tell him with a smile as an overwhelming rush of tenderness comes over you. “It cannot create or destroy love. It can only heighten what is already there.”
Azriel’s expression softens and he looks back up at you. Half terrified. Half hopeful. “So this is real?”
You decide to show him instead by leaning down and kissing him. 
Azriel’s body relaxes and then he’s using his hands to tug you forward and onto his lap. He kisses you back. Deeply and desperately. He places his hands on your face, your neck and then they’re at your waist, slipping under your shirt. He wants to feel your skin, all of you and you welcome it, arching into him because his touch feels so good.
It stirs a light of desire in you–a desire so bright that it rivals the sun and blossoms flowers of its own. A desire to love and be loved. 
“What else did you wish for?” You gasp out when you both pull away for air. His hands are right under the curve of your chest and he leans his forehead against yours.
His breath is heavy but he smiles at you and you engrave the image into your mind because you’ve never seen anything so beautiful. You’re inclined to ask Feyre to paint it for you later.
“I only wished for you to be mine.” He says, pressing a kiss to your nose.
“Done.”
And then he’s kissing you again.
Azriel has heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime–he’s seen it come to his brothers. He never thought it would come to him but he’s pretty sure that you are that love of his and he was a fool to push it away. He knows this now because when he gazes into your eyes, he can see forever in them.
**
here's like an alternate scene, where y/n is the one who says "please don't talk to me like that" instead of az: read here
here's a scene if you're curious about feyre's reaction: read here
if you're interested in reading more about this au you can find the masterlist for this series here
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skzstannie · 4 months
Text
"Did you know?"
SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader
genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital
summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason
A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!
Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!
Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist
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Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.
This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.
"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.
"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.
"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.
"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."
You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.
Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.
Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.
You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.
"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"
"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.
You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.
Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?
Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.
You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."
Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.
You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.
While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.
You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.
Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.
You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.
You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.
Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.
You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.
Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.
"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.
You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.
"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.
"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.
You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.
You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.
You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.
The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.
You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.
The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.
You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.
"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.
"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"
"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.
You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.
"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.
"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.
"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."
After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.
Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.
Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.
In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.
Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.
The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.
Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.
Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.
You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.
You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.
"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.
"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.
"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"
Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.
Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.
You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.
10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.
Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.
5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.
You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.
All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.
Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.
The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.
Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.
"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.
"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.
"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.
Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.
"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.
Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."
You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.
The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.
The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.
You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.
"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"
You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.
The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.
You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"
"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."
You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"
"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.
"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.
The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.
Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"
"Get out," you say, your voice tense.
His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"
"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.
"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"
"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"
"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.
"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."
His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."
He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?
The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.
You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.
After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.
Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.
You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.
"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."
Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.
"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."
You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"
"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."
Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.
They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.
You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.
Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.
They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.
They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."
All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."
"Yea, but-"
"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."
"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.
"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.
Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.
You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.
~ ~ ~
Part 2
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rogueddie · 3 months
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Hair Care T | 1,749 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is what makes you brave
Steve learnt early on that if he makes his hair all soft, fluffy and big, then girls would play with his hair. He's always loved having people touching his hair.
But after the Demogorgon, after he gets his act together? Suddenly, no one wants to touch his hair. No one comments on it, or even looks at it like they're so much as thinking about it.
And it is driving Steve insane.
"I can't just ask for it!" He complains. "That's weird and- and what if they take it the wrong way? What if I sound too weird or desperate?"
"I'm the wrong person for the weird complaint," Eddie points out. "And I still don't get the problem. What about Robin?"
Robin is convinced that all his little lines, trying to encourage attention towards his hair as subtly as he can, are all pick-up lines.
To be fair to her, she has only ever seen him using said lines when he's flirting. But they're supposed to be little hints, a nudge and a wink. Friendly- playful even.
But, because of that, he has a nasty feeling that she would take any hint or request about his hair as romantic. And the last thing Steve wants to do is make Robin uncomfortable.
"Ok, yeah, I see the problem there," Eddie hums, considering. "What about the kids? El and Max. They adore you and love playing with each others hair."
El had asked to play with his hair once.
She'd heard, somehow, that his hair is 'famous' in Hawkins and had wanted to see why. She encouraged Max to join her, even though she mostly ended up petting him like a dog.
Max had seemed to enjoy it more than El, but not by much, and the snickers from the other kids had been enough for him to refuse to let them "go again".
He's the babysitter, he needs at least some dignity.
"But did you like it?" Eddie presses.
"Well, yeah," Steve mumbles, snuffing his slipper on the carpet. "It was nice or whatever. Not worth the jabs though."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. Didn't feel worth it."
"Hmm..." Eddie pauses again, frowning as he looks him over. "Well... what was it specifically about what they did that was so nice? Has anyone else done that for you?"
Tommy used to play with his hair constantly. He was a quick learner and, with how much Carol visibly and vocally enjoyed watching them, there wasn't any shame.
They both seemed to enjoy themselves more whenever they could convince Steve to sit on the floor, so Tommy could scratch at his head more effectively.
"Which..." Steve pauses, frowning. "In retrospect was probably some weird power play thing. Like, I was the king at school but a dog at home."
"Yikes."
"Yeah."
But they knew exactly what he liked and they were good at it.
Tommy knew that he loves the back of his ears scratched, likes the small strands at his neck tugged. He knew that Steve loved the feeling of fingers brushing his fringe back, especially when he'd get rough and push his head back a little with the motion.
They knew what he needed.
"Well... I could do that," Eddie suggests. "I mean... if you want. It's not like it would be a hardship."
"Really? You wouldn't be uncomfortable?"
"Not at all. As long as you're ok with it, it's all good."
"That- yeah. Yeah, I'm on with that."
That's how it starts.
Steve had sat on the floor, in front of the sofa where Eddie was sat. It reminded him of Tommy for a moment, but Eddie quickly brought him back to the moment with a hand on his shoulder.
"This alright for you?" He asked, squeezing gently when Steve nodded. "Alright. Just let me know if it's bad, too much or you want to stop."
"Okay."
He had thought that would be it, though. Moments when they hung out in private, a thing for them that no one else was allowed in on.
But Eddie starts playing with his hair. All the time.
If he can find an excuse, he abuses it. Even in Family Video, busy with people and customers lining up in front of Robin, right next to them. Eddie just... leans forward, reaches out and pushes his hair back.
He does it so casual, so out in the open, that- somehow- Robin is the only one who gives them a strange look.
On movie nights, he's started putting a pillow down on the floor between his feet. When Steve comes in with popcorn, Eddie gives it a pointed look and raises an eyebrow at him.
It's so much, so often. Steve loves it, has never been so happy for so long. It leaves him feeling high sometimes.
All good things, for him, come to an end though. And his comes in the form of Robin Buckley.
"I'm not saying I have a problem with any of it!" She clarifies, right off the bat. "If it's just a friendship thing, that's amazing. I love how happy you are, really, and I don't want that to go away, and I know-"
"Robs," Steve interrupts. "Slow down. I don't know what you're trying to say."
She stood, staring at him for a moment, seeming to vibrate with her need to speak, before finally blurting out-
"Are you and Eddie dating?"
"Wh- what? No, that's... no. Why do you, uhm, think that?"
"Steve," she whines. "I know about your hair lines, remember? One of them must have worked with how addicted he's got to yours."
"Oh, that... no, that's not what's happened. Those aren't lines, I just... I really like people playing with my hair."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Wait, that still sounds suspicious. He plays with your hair all the time because he knows how much you like it?"
"No one else was going to."
"Oh my god," she rolls her eyes, stepping closer so she lightly tug at his hair. "I would have been doing this all the time if I knew it was ok!"
"Oh, uh, sorry?"
"No apologies, just tell me when you started crushing on Munson."
"How-?"
"I know you, dingus. Apparently not as well as I had hoped I did, but I do. And you're gone on him. When. Did it start?"
The first time Steve realized that he was feeling more than 'friendship feelings' for Eddie was when he was eating at his new trailer.
Wayne had come home early and was surprised to see that Eddie had a guest over.
But Eddie was too busy jumping up, excited to introduce them, to notice.
"Wayne! This is Steve, I've told you about Steve, he's great," Eddie said. "Steve, this is my uncle, Wayne. He's amazing, don't worry, he doesn't bite."
Steve had quickly stood extending an arm, and introduced him properly. He made sure to add a quick 'sir' at the end.
Wayne had quickly dismissed the title, turning to Eddie with a fond look, and said, "what was it you called him? Pr-"
"Shut up," Eddie was fast to interrupt, hands waving around.
And Steve realized that he was feeling hope. He was filled with hope that Eddie had said what his uncle seemed to about to say.
He realized that he wanted Eddie to think of him as pretty. He wanted Eddie to find him so pretty that he told his uncle.
It was a warm feeling, fluttering through his stomach- a feeling that he is all too familiar with.
"I'm gagging," Robin says, monotone. "But that does help."
"Help? How?"
"Uh, because he's obviously into you too!"
"Robs, I don't know..."
"Come on, it'll be easy. He already likes you, so you don't have to try so hard. Just a little thing that lets him know you like him. One of your moves-"
"No, Robs... I'm sure that he likes me too, at least a little, that's not the problem."
"What is them?"
"I... I've never, like... been with a guy. What if I do it wrong?"
"Steve," Robin grabs both of his shoulders. "He likes you. All you have to be is yourself."
"I don't know if I c-"
"You can, and you will. We'll think of a plan that cannot fail, you'll put on your brave pants, and we'll kick this problems ass."
"My brave pants? It's brave face."
"No, I mean those pants that you're always saying make your ass look good. Those are your brave pants."
"... Ok, yeah, they are."
It doesn't take them long to settle in a plan. It's simple, easy. It shouldn't give Steve enough time to doubt himself.
Eddie arrives on time, knocking on the door at the exact time it turns four p.m.
"Hi!" Steve greets, wincing at how overenthusiastic he is. "Come in."
"You alright?"
"Yeah, fine, just... slow day. Too much energy. Come on, I made too much food earlier if you want some."
"You know I'll never turn down free food, Stevie."
Over dinner, Steve starts to finally relax. Eddie is, as always, easy to talk too.
When they step into the living room, Steve snatches the pillow off Eddie before he can put it on the floor and places it in Eddies lap instead.
"Oh, uh," Eddie stutters, eyebrows high, staring down at Steve who did not hesitate to rest his head on the pillow in his lap. "You- yeah?"
"Yeah," Steve agrees. "You alright with this?"
"Yes- yeah, this- of course."
"Great!"
Steve stretches to the coffee table, handing Eddie the remote.
He doesn't pay attention to whatever Eddie puts on though. He can't stop thinking about how he's laying, how Eddie's hand feels so much more gentle in his hair.
Eventually, he turns so he's on his back. He catches Eddie's hand before he can pull away, waiting until Eddie looks him in the eye before pulling his hand close enough to kiss his palm.
But, instead of surprise, Eddie sighs. His shoulders drop, smiling wide- relieved.
"You're so pretty," Steve says, pushing through the confusion he feels at Eddies reaction. "And I, uh... I really like you, Ed."
"Yeah?" Eddies eyes scrunch with how wide his smile is, shifting his hand out of Steves hold so he can brush the back of his knuckles along his cheek. "Little ol' me?"
"Yeah. I'm- I mean, you're funny and you care... you're just... it's too soon to say love, I know, but-"
"I love you too."
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fathomlessgaze · 25 days
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bring your child to work day: zayne and his daughter spend a day at the hospital
fluff, dad!zayne/reader (a little bit), ~2.2k
warnings: reader only makes a small appearance it's mostly about zayne + his daughter spending quality time together tbh, allusions to zayne + mc's lore (no specific memory idt just the overarching theme of their story), zayne is a devoted girl dad bc i believe in girldad!zayne...
a/n: mc/reader + zaynes daughter is named zenith here bc i liked the idea of them sharing an initial 😭 meaning the highest point/the point right above you in the sky bc i think thats what she would be for zayne+mc like one of the best moments of their lifetimes :( anyway it's mentioned in the fic but shes the spitting image of zayne thats his mini-me fr
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“good morning,” zayne says, passing by the nurses’ station without much fuss. it’s an ordinary wednesday, after all.  
“morning,” greyson echoes with a curt nod, his eyes still focused on the files he’s reviewing from an overnight patient. 
“mornin’!” a third voice calls happily. 
greyson freezes, his papers falling unceremoniously on the floor. “huh!?” he exclaims, a little too loud for a hospital corridor. 
however the chief pays his outburst no mind, and he suddenly sees why, greyson’s gaze finding the little girl perched on his boss’ hip. of course, he remembers, it’s “bring your child to work” day. but for some reason, he never thought that zayne would actually bring his child to work. perhaps that explains why he’d made sure no surgeries were scheduled for this day weeks ago. 
zayne strokes her dark hair, brushing a loose strand from her pigtails behind her ear. “this is dr. greyson,” he speaks softly, pointing in his direction. “dr. greyson, meet zenith.” 
“nice to meet you!” she exclaims, waving a chubby hand in the air, paying no mind to his wide eyes and slack jaw. 
she can’t be over four judging from her height, and, of course, greyson knew zayne had a daughter, but he didn’t really know. he remembers you mentioning her at your appointments, the photos on his desk and, of course, zayne’s paid time off actually being used at personal all time highs (which had already been on the incline after you moved in and then got married) since a few years ago, but it still feels surreal to actually see him with his child. 
if she has any opinion on greyson’s lack of response besides the cartoon birds that would appear around his head if they were in an animated tv show, she gives no hint. instead, she smiles brightly, her green eyes sparkling as she takes zayne’s glasses off his face and fists the lenses, trying to rotate them in her tiny hands and fit them on her own face. 
somehow, with the much too large frames perched on her nose, she looks even more like her father. everything, from her dark hair tied with ribbons to her hazel eyes, the curve of her brow and little nose, she is her father’s daughter to a t. perhaps the only un-zayne-like thing about her is the permanent cheeriness in her gaze and her gummy smile. that she must’ve gotten from you. while greyson has definitely noticed how his boss has become a little less taciturn and stern over the years, he would be lying to himself if he said he ever thought zayne would become even a miniscule fraction as bubbly as the daughter he holds close right now.
“i didn’t know you were bringing your daughter in today!” greyson exclaims, the realizations of today finally settling and coming together in his mind.
there’s a fondness in his eyes as he glances to zenith, his lips quirking the slightest bit upwards. “she’s been asking for weeks to come with me; i figured now would be the best time with the other kids here. i know you’ve seen the schedule for today, but—”
“oh my god!” yvonne gasps, speeding towards the trio gathered. “you brought your daughter, dr. zayne!” she extends her hand to the girl, which she happily takes. “i’m yvonne, i work with your dad.” 
“i’m zenif,” she babbles, her syllables getting caught on her missing tooth. 
simultaneously both greyson and yvonne coo at the little girl. 
“aren’t you the cutest thing? i’ve seen so many pictures of you but you’re just the dearest little one, hm?” 
and word of mouth travels fast, because, soon enough, a whole crowd has come to fuss over the most adorable little girl who looks exactly like the aloof department chair and has the sweetest smile. she graciously accepts their compliments with quiet ‘thank you's' and hides her face in her father’s neck and shoulder, causing even more ‘aww’s to fall from his colleagues’ lips. when the attention dies down, zayne finally gets to his office, nearly an hour later than he usually would have by now, but he can’t even be annoyed. his little girl is the most precious; of course, he would react in the same way. 
he shuts the door behind them and puts his bag down by his desk, moving zenith so she has a place on his lap when he sits down. “what would you like to do today, hm?” he asks, booting up his computer and finding a pile of files from the depths of a drawer. 
“what do you do?” she asks.
he hums. “well sometimes i see patients who don’t feel well, sometimes i do surgeries on them so they feel better, and sometimes i have to do paperwork. i don’t have any patients or surgeries scheduled today, so we can do whatever you want; how does that sound?”
“what about paperwork?” she exclaims. “you said that’s what you do?” 
“would you like to do paperwork with me?” 
she nods firmly. “i wanna spend time with daddy!” 
his heart softens, his already abnormally warm (at least for work standards) gaze growing even more endeared by his precious, favorite little girl. “you want to spend time with me?” 
her head bobs and she wraps her arms around his neck, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “of course! i love you, daddy.”
pressing a kiss to her cheek, he can’t help a smile. of course he knows she loves him, loves spending time with him. when he’s home she’s practically glued to his hip. and he tries his best to make sure she knows the same. but sometimes it’s just nice to hear it from someone you love. “and i love you, princess.” 
it used to be a foreign expression on his tongue many, many years ago, before you’d returned to his life, and especially before she came into his life. but as time flew by, thanks to you and your help, he’d grown familiar, comfortable, fond with it. while he knew you didn’t mind him not saying that as much as other boyfriends and husbands might from all your conversations, knowing he expressed how much he loved you and then some through other ways, he knew she might not have understood just how her father expressed his feelings and fondness at her young age. 
so beyond his quiet actions, he makes sure to tell her. whether it’s a post-it note in her lunchbox, right next to the heart-shaped sandwich with the crusts cut off, just how she likes it, whenever it’s his turn to make her lunch, or a birthday card she’ll know how to read one day, he tries to tell her through words too. ‘i love you’ went from an expression he seldom said or heard, to one he couldn’t get enough of, whether it be from your lips or hers, and one he always wanted you both to know. 
“let’s see what kind of paperwork we can find for you, then.” coincidentally a knock sounds from the other side of the door. “come in.” 
“they brought some donuts and coloring pages out in the lobby,” yvonne says, popping her head in. “i figured you’d both be interested.” 
“thank you, yvonne.” when the door shuts, zayne leans back to look at his daughter, brushing her hair. “what do you think about that? do you want to take a look?” with her eager nods, zayne stands.
“i wanna walk,” she pouts, tugging on his once crisp button-up, and he puts her down accordingly, taking her small fingers in his. 
they make their way hand in hand down the corridor, drawing even more endeared coos from the staff until they reach the table. kneeling down to her height, he points at a smaller kids table in the corner.
“how about you get some coloring sheets and crayons? i can get you a donut and we can head back and do some paperwork,” he explains.  
she happily obliges, skipping over and inspecting the books with a familiar seriousness (which also makes the other staff coddle her just as much as her bright smiles. “aren’t you so precious!?” “she’s just like her father!” zayne can’t help the small quirk of his lips when he hears how cute they find his daughter, because she is, speaking from his personal experience.). meanwhile he grabs a strawberry donut with sprinkles and a chocolate one, both her favorites, placing them on a napkin and grabbing a few extra knowing how she takes after you in terms of her messiness. 
meeting her in the corner, he bends down, taking a quick look at the drawings she’s taken. “find anything you like?” he asks.
raising her pages to his eyes, she beams. “they have the bears!” 
he smiles softly, tucking her loose hair away. “yes, they do,” he hums. “who knew?” 
it totally wasn’t like he’d ordered specific character coloring books when it was time for the cardiology department to refill their kids’ activity section. it totally wasn’t like he’d looked for some ones he knew his daughter would love. it wasn’t like that at all; zayne maintains he’s as impassive and serious at work as ever…he’s lying to himself.
when she gathers her crayons, the duo make their way back to his office. the day flies quickly by, her babbles and light, curious questions bringing a new level of comfort and joy zayne never thought he’d get from his job. he loves what he does, of course, but everything just seems more enjoyable and memorable with his daughter by his side. or rather, with her on his lap, in her own little world of just her and her beloved dad, oblivious to the seriousness of the paperwork her father is dealing with as she busies herself with her own “paperwork” and scribbles vibrant colors all over the once black and white image.
and zayne thinks he would be perfectly content if it were to stay like this forever. even with all his prizes and awards, nothing could compare to the reward and title of being your husband and zenith’s father. 
he lowers his pen to the desk from his fingers, using his free hand to rest his head as he admires the precious life before him. “i love you, princess,” he murmurs, pinching her cheek. 
“i love you too, daddy!” she turns to face him, crumbs of donut glaze still around her lips. 
he takes a napkin and dabs at her face before checking his watch. you’d said you’d meet them around now… “how about we get lunch soon?” 
right on time, a knock sounds from the door, which opens to reveal you. “how are my favorite doctors doing?” you exclaim. 
“mama!” she cheers, hopping off zayne’s knee and running into your waiting embrace. 
kissing her head, you give her a squeeze. “how’s work with dada going?” 
“i love it here! daddy colors and eats dessert all day,” she cheers. 
glancing to your husband, you chuckle. “is that so?” 
he makes his way towards you both, giving you a peck as you stand, your daughter now on your hip. “something like that,” he mumbles. 
“then maybe i should become a doctor too,” you tease. “is now a good time for lunch?” 
he nods, opening the office door once more and allowing you to pass first. 
“i wanna become a doc-tor, too,” zenith ponders, suddenly serious with her small fingers tapping at her chin as she thinks, a habit no doubt from her father. “then daddy and i can color and eat snacks together forever!” 
“is that so?” you ask, but you can’t help the smile you shoot at your husband. 
she bobs her head, a determined furrow in her brow. “i wanna be with mama and daddy forever.” 
zayne has a warm fondness in his gaze as his eyes find his daughter. she looks up to him with wide eyes and her gummy grin, reaching her small hand out for his own, which he happily obliges. her tiny fist wraps around two of fingers, and he briefly wishes that she could stay his little girl for eternity. she doesn’t need to know how hard her dad’s job actually is, how much work he had to put in to get to where they are now, the sorrows of her parents’ past. she is a precious gem, the shining peak of all your shared lifetimes. 
this one existence, finally at peace, a happy ending for you and him, domestic bliss with the two, now three, of you, he thinks it’s worth every tear that’s been shed before. and maybe in another universe and lifetime, the you’ll get another happy ending. he thinks that even if it’s a simple life, as long as it’s with the two of you, it’d be one he cherishes and treasures close to every fiber of his existence, one he would fight all there may be to remember, for no god could tear his devotion. maybe he’d even bet every splintering past life that led to this one was worth the years he’s gotten to spend with you in this one, and the years still to come. so he hopes she stays as optimistic and bright as ever, that you stay by his side in this heavenly life he could only once dream of. after all, ice is made of crystals.
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demieyesore · 6 months
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You - Theodore Nott
Currently listening to Hollywood undead while I write this fanfic, anyways I’m a big whore (unfortunately) and I see that currently my poll is around the same votes for Mattheo and Theo…so this one will be for Theo (since my first fanfic was for Mattheo) and then my next fanfic after this one will be Mattheo x Reader x Theo bc I absolutely love men and poly relationships‼️
Summary - Theo notices someone being too handsy with GN!Reader in class and gets possessive
Warnings / Mentions - Reader is not in a specific house, no use of Y/n, kind of strangers to lovers? Reader is friends with the golden trio, Harry is the one being touchy, Possessive!Theo, Yandere!Theo, Stalker!Theo (but doesn’t really mention anything creepy except claiming the Reader)
I am willing to make a smutty part two of this if anyone wants it and I hope y’all recognize what I’m loosely referencing in this fic at the end LOL
Requested - No
POV - 1st person
Word Count - 1979
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I fiddle with my tie, trying to re-adjust the cloth as it hangs loosely around my neck. I had originally loosened it because it had gotten really hot in the class room but that can be expected when you’re working on potions from time to time.
Harry was assigned to be my potions partner. Ron and Hermione were sat next to us as we read off all the needed ingredients.
Harry begins listing the items while counting them on his fingers in 3s. Once he’s mesmerized part of the ingredients, his eyes drift towards me. His eyebrow quirks up when he sees me struggling with my tie.
Immediately he forgets the stuff we need as he reaches over to my tie, gently removing my hands from the area as he re-adjusts it for me. A small blush forms on my face at how close he has gotten. I can very easily see his scar up close and how his glasses are settled on his nose.
Has he always been this pretty?
As if on command, his hands drop from my tie. I look down at his hands and back up as he gives me a cute but awkward looking smile.
The kind of smile you give someone when you realize just how close you are before moving away.
Harry stands and goes to grab the ingredients.
Hermione smiles at me with a grin that just screams, “I told you he liked you.”
I roll my eyes at her, watching as Ron fucks up something in their potion, causing his eyes to go wide. Hermione’s attention is redirected as she hits the back of his head, pushing him over to fix whatever he’s done.
As I wait for Harry, I look around the room. Some people are already done with their potions, some are restarting. And by restarting, I mean that Seamus’ is covered with dust and his hair is everywhere.
Well now I know why it’s so hot in here.
My eyes wander next to him to see the next table of students. At this table, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott are sitting and just talking.
Looks like they’ve finished their potion.
I realize that Theo is looking at me and quickly look away.
I’ve talked to him a few times before but I really tried to stay away from his friend group. Except Enzo and Blaise, they’re really the only two I get along with well.
Being friends with the golden trio is nice but that just means that Draco’s friend group bitches about it all the damn time.
Harry walks back over, holding a tray in one hand with everything we need. He stands behind me, placing his free hand on my shoulder as he leans over me in order to place the tray on the table.
My eyes widen as a reaction at the touch. It’s not necessarily a touch that most people would think about however, I wasn’t used to people being physical with me.
#TouchStarved, I think to myself before cracking a smile at my own humor.
Theo and Blaise’s table is right behind where Hermione and Ron are sitting so I furrow my eyebrows when I see Theo staring directly at me still.
Ah shit he looks pissed.
I avoid eye contact with him because we all know that a mad Slytherin really isn’t someone you want to be around. Although I can’t help but wonder if he’s pissed at me for something. I never talk to his friends though so there shouldn’t be any problem.
I brush it off as Harry begins speaking.
“Alright. Um- could you hand me that knife?” I nod at his question, grabbing the blade next to me and handing it to him. He nods in appreciation.
Soon enough the potion is done and was a great success. Harry and I were really happy with how it turned out since this would be very important for our grade.
Harry and I smiled at each other and raised our arms, celebrating the victory. Harry’s hands make contact with mine in a double high five. At this I smile even bigger, entwining our hands before he pulls away.
We begin laughing as Ron groans, upset with how his potion was turning out. Hermione rolled her eyes before grinning at the Potter boy and I.
Harry had the greatest idea of standing up from his stool and pulling me to stand with him. Our hands were still locked as he began to make me dance with him. At first we were doing the waltz that we were taught for the Yule ball but after he spinned me, I came back to him and instead of having our hands together, he settled for placing his hands on my hips.
He began using his hands to guide my hips in a very different dance than the waltz.
My hands were around his neck as my hips swayed from the pressure of his hands. And honestly if we were at a party this would seem extremely sexual, but since it’s just Harry and I, it’s platonic fun.
Although it definitely brought yet another blush to my face, but I was like 100% sure that Harry didn’t like me. I think he’s just a very physical person when he becomes close with people.
The Professor looks over at us, staring us down as we both laugh before scrambling away from each other. Rushing to sit down before we got yelled at.
Once the Professor looks away, a note flies over and hits Harry in the glasses. He picks up the note with his eyebrows tensed in confusion. We both look over from where it came from and it was definitely from Theodore Nott.
The only way I could be sure is when I saw him motion for Harry to read the note.
I watch as Harry reads over the words. Clearly becoming more and more confused, stealing glances between me and the note.
“What is it? What’s it say?” I vocalize, inquisitively.
He shakes his head as if he were clearing an echa sketch. But instead of a drawing, he was clearing his thoughts.
“Ah- um- it’s nothing really.” Harry stutters, licking his bottom lip. Which I’ve become aware is one of his nervous signals.
His eyes connect with Theodore, who in return stares back. His stare is clearly more frightening since he has what I like to call “dead eyes”.
Those eyes are absolutely gorgeous but when the light fades from them when he’s pissed, it’s the most terrifying thing.
I make eye contact with Hermione, having a conversation with just our eyes. Asking about what’s happening seeing as the two boys look like they’re holding back to urge to jump the tables and punch each other in the face.
Granger shrugs.
I quickly try to gain control of the situation again by calling the brunettes name. “Harry?”
“Hm?” Instead of breaking eye contact with Nott, he just makes a hum of acknowledgment.
“What’s wrong? What did the note say?” I whisper to him, trying to cover our chat from Theodore.
Potter doesn’t make an effort to say anything, instead he throws the note in front of me to read. I pick up the note and begin reading from left to right.
“Back off from what I’ve been trying to claim.” Is the only sentence written on the piece of parchment.
My mouth drops open in surprise, my mind immediately drawing the dots together like Stiles does in teen wolf.
Man he’s a smart character. But also really stupid.
I get off track with my thinking, refocusing on the important thing at hand.
But honestly, I don’t care all that much. Is that a bad thing?
Now that I know why they’re both death glaring at each other, I can only feel my stomach erupt into butterflies.
I crumple up the note, trying to be sly as I slip it into my pocket but I see as Harry’s jaw clenches and Theo now has a shit eating grin on his face.
It lasts for a couple more seconds before Potter breaks eye contact first, scoffing at the Slytherin. Harry stands abruptly and turns to leave the classroom. Ron following after him as I hear the ginger exclaim, “Bloody hell mate!”
Hermione and I look at each other again, an expression on our faces that is making it very evident that we both thought that was attractive.
Like oh my god, two guys getting jealous and possessive over me.
Perhaps it is wrong to find it attractive but I love feeling wanted.
Class soon ends after that, Harry and Ron never returning back for anything. Hermione is left to pick up after them while I exit the class. Hermione agreed to cleaning up, knowing that my next class is basically across the school and with all the moving staircases and students. It’s just torture to arrive on time.
I walk as swiftly as I can, dodging people and walking between random people in order to reach my destination.
But before I reach my class, a hand is promptly placed on my upper back. I look over my shoulder to see Theodore standing tall over me. His hand still resting on the small of my back, showing his possessive and dominant side. Practically towering over me as he guides me over to a private area.
Which happened to be a janitor’s closet. He opened the door and gently but still roughly shoved me inside. He steps in after me, clicking the lock.
I was about to speak up but he cut me off.
“I want to make you mine.” He said with a completely straight face as he put it bluntly. His voice low and deep as he kept eye contact with me.
I froze with my eyes wide as a small smirk formed on his lips.
“What? Cats got your tongue, Amore Mio”
Oh okay that got me a little bit.
I feel a small wave of attraction wash over me, something so intense for just a moment it could visually be seen in my eyes.
“Oh oh ohhhh, you like it when I speak Italian don’t you, Dolcezza?” He inquires, his eyes searching my face for some kind of a reaction as a smile grows on him.
And the answer to that question is 1000% yes but why would I admit that???
Unfortunately my body betrays me as I swallow anxiously, giving him the flustered response he was hoping for.
He could literally be calling me a cunt in Italian and I wouldn’t know except based on his tone but I would still find it attractive.
His captivating eyes look down at my lips as he closes the space between us. He slowly looks back up into my eyes as he gets on his knees in front of me.
Oh I like that too.
Theo grabs my arm gently, placing a kiss on my inner wrist as he still keeps eye contact.
My stomach flips and I shuffle a little closer to him.
“Can I kiss you?” He questions, and holy shit I swear to god if he doesn’t look away I will because his eyes are literally hypnotic.
I nod but it’s not enough for him. His eyes are trained on me, pulling me down to be level with his height.
“Words.” Is all he says. Yet it’s such a powerful thing for me to hear right now.
“Yes, yes you can kiss me.” My face heats up, I turn my head away from him out of embarrassment. But he just grabs my face with his hands, aligning the kiss.
He hovers over my lips for a moment,
“If I wasn’t about to kiss you, I would’ve beat Harry bloody for the way he touched you.���
And just like that, our lips meet.
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jeneveuxrein · 5 months
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safety net [1/2] (BLACKPINK Rosé)
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word count: 25.8K
part 1 (14.8K) | part 2 (11K)
(thanks to everyone who read the first story i published, truly appreciate it! this one's more plot than anything with a smidgen of you know)
“Hey.” 
You glance away from your screen to Park Chaeyoung standing in front of you, a determined look on her face. You prefer to call her Rosie, mostly because you know how much it irritates her, and you’re the only one that calls her by her English name.
“Uh hey Rosie,” You greet, slightly closing your laptop. “What’s up?” 
“I have a proposition for you,” Rosie leans over the table. “And please listen to it before you flat out say no.”
You raise an eyebrow, shutting your laptop completely. You start packing your belongings. 
“Wait what? What’re you doing?” Rosie straightens, taking a step back. 
“Well I’m hungry, and if I have to listen to you, I would rather do it while I’m eating,” You swing your backpack over one shoulder, adding, “You’re paying by the way.” 
As you walk away, you hear Rosie huff. You smirk when her arm loops with yours. 
“Fine,” You don’t have to look at her to know she’s pouting, but you wonder what, of all things, she needs you for.
Guess you’ll find out. 
--
The server places your orders in front of you, as Rosie sits across from you, sipping her iced coffee. You give a small thanks as your mouth waters at the sight of the burger. 
“You act like you don’t eat,” Rosie comments after you take the first bite. You flip her off after taking another bite. You hadn’t eaten lunch, so you were starving. 
“What do you want?” You ask before you continue eating, ignoring her comment. No matter what, you were ravenous. This burger would be gone before she finished.
“Okay,” Rosie takes a breath, composing herself. You realize that whatever she’s going to ask you is big, especially if she’s asking you. Though, you keep eating. “So you know how I’ve never been in a relationship right?” 
You nod. It wasn’t any of your business, nor did you pay any attention to her dating life specifically, but your friends, the girls mostly, commented a lot about her lack of dating, or really lack of interest in anyone.
“Well, there’s this guy who I’ve been talking to lately and I think I like him,” Rosie takes a small bite of her salad. “The only problem is my, I guess, experience, if you’re catching my drift.” 
This burger is too good for you to stop eating, but you nod anyways, having absolutely no idea what she’s referring to.
“I was wondering if you could help me in that department,” You raise an eyebrow, which you’re paying attention now. “I mean, will you show me how to have sex?” 
You choke, being mid-bite, that the burger falls apart onto the plate. You cough as Rosie’s suddenly next to you, hitting your back. 
“Oh my god, are you alright?” Rosie asks once you’ve stopped coughing.
“Yeah, I’m good,” You nod, waving off the server who was walking towards your table. “I’m good,” You repeat and Rosie takes her seat again. 
“So? What do you say?” 
“No,” You say flatly, staring at the deconstructed burger on your plate. Thankfully you finished most of it, but still.
“What? Why?” Rosie crosses her arms, eyes narrowing. 
It doesn’t faze you. You’re used to this, especially if it’s with Rosie.
“First let me ask, why me?” You attempt to put the burger back together, distracting yourself from the thoughts of Rosie like that.
“Well, it was Jennie’s idea really,” Rosie confesses, watching you rearrange the meat patty. “She said that if I want to feel comfortable doing stuff with Soohyun, I should just get it over with.”
Choi Soohyun, the rich pretty boy at your university. You’ve met him a few times, and he’s nice enough. You know his track record with women is on par with yours, but the difference is that he uses his father’s money to pull them in. You, on the other hand, come from a relatively wealthy family as well, but only Rosie and her three best friends know that. 
“And it has to be me?” You ask bluntly, appetite suddenly gone as you push the plate away.
“Yes,” Rosie nods enthusiastically, “As much as everyone calls you a playboy, girls talk. You allegedly know your way around a bedroom, and what better way for me to learn is from you.”
“Chaeyoung, absolutely not,” Using her real name was only saved for serious moments, and this was way too serious for a Tuesday afternoon. 
“Why not?” Rosie argues, rolling her eyes. “It’s just sex, isn’t that what all guys want?”
“I’m not sure what guys you’ve been hanging out with, but no, not all guys want just sex,” You mock, leaning back into the chair. “And shouldn’t your first time be special with someone you actually, I don’t know, like?” 
“In an ideal world, yes,” Chaeyoung answers, aggressively stabbing a piece of lettuce. “But I don’t care much for that stuff. You’re not answering my question, why won’t you have sex with me?” 
There was a list of reasons you could think of as to why you won’t have sex with Rosie. 
Number one, and the only one you were concerned about, being the history you have together. 
You’ve been sworn enemies since middle school, but there was a time before that where you were actually close. You grew up in the house next to hers, and your parents set up multiple play dates that she was someone you enjoyed spending time with. You considered her your best friend. It changed in middle school, for reasons you still didn’t know. You didn’t have the mental capacity at that age to fix it because you missed her, but you’ve never told her that. 
In high school, it was better, but you feigned indifference while she flat out ignored you. Unless your families were having dinner, but even then that consisted of snarky comments and petty arguments. The amount of times her older sister had to step in were too many to count. 
You thought university would be your fresh start, but lo and behold, you couldn’t seem to shake her presence from your life. You thought you wouldn’t see her as much since you were taking different subjects, but your friends ran in the same circle, so you saw her more than you needed to. 
“Do you not find me attractive?” Rosie’s question catches you off guard when you don’t respond. 
You’d be lying if you said no. You’ve been a witness to Rosie turning into a beautiful woman, but if she knew that, especially coming from you, her ego would skyrocket. A lot of the men, even women, on campus have a crush on her, but she typically rejected anyone because she was too focused on school and her dream of becoming a fashion designer—something she was very close to achieving with the amount of internships she’s been receiving from companies abroad. 
“Shut up, you know it’s not that,” You mumble, ignoring the smirk forming on Rosie’s face. “It’s you and me. We haven’t gotten along since we were like seven, now all of a sudden, you want to,” You pause, thinking of how to say it, “Have sex with me because of what you’ve heard?” 
“Look,” Rosie sighs, face falling. You detect the desperation, but she’d never admit it. “I know our relationship is complicated, but you’re the only guy I can trust to do this. Jungkook would blab. Taehyung would be an ass. And Yoongi’s too nice. Everyone else has a girlfriend who I very much would like to stay friends with. Can’t we just put the past behind us?” 
You didn’t want to further complicate things. At best, you two were civil. At worst, Rosie would be yelling at you along with repeatedly hitting your shoulder to take back whatever set her off. 
Adding sex into the mix? It’s a bomb waiting to go off. 
“I don’t know, Chaeyoung,” You say softly, pushing your plate away. “As much as you’re a pain in my ass, I don’t think I could do that with you. It would feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” 
Her face softens, and she reaches for your hand, “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, I’m taking advantage of you. It’s not like we have feelings for each other right?” 
You don’t, as far as you’re aware, but you have always, and will always, have a soft spot for her. You may not have gotten along over the years, but you’d still have her back. If she means what she says about her trusting you out of all the friends she has, it’s important. 
“No,” It feels off saying that, but you ignore it. “Fine,” You relent. You couldn’t believe you were agreeing. “But we have to set rules.”
“Really?” Rosie beams, clapping her hands. “Yes yes, of course.” 
“Uh, first rule, we’ll do it at my place since I live alone. I don’t need Jennie or Lisa or Jisoo hovering,” You say, which she nods. You love the girls, hell you’ve slept with Jennie on a couple occasions, but they can be nosey and overly critical. 
“That makes sense. Rule number two, no sleeping over,” She makes a face, “I will literally bring you home if it’s super late, or I’ll just bring you home in general.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” Rosie rolls her eyes. 
“I know I don’t, but I’m not budging,” You’re firm about that. Your parents would kill you if anything happened to Rosie and you were the last person to see her. 
“Rule three, if you sleep with other people, please let me know and use a fucking condom,” Rosie says, “I don’t want my first time to end up with a disease.”
You’re slightly offended because as much as you have sex, you are safe. Even when girls don’t want to use protection, you do. 
“Obviously I will.”
“Good,” Rosie nods, “Last rule, no feelings. If at any point you or I feel something more than our mutual disdain for each other, we stop.” 
“Okay,” You roll your eyes, “Like I’d ever fall for you, but fine.” 
A pit forms in your stomach after saying that, but again, you brush it off.
“Right back at ya,” Rosie winks, smiling brightly that she accomplished her mission. “So what’re you doing tonight? Can we start?”
You nearly choke on your saliva, eyes bugging out as Rosie looks completely serious. 
“Uh,” You don’t have anything planned. You still have to finish the budget report your professor assigned, but it wasn’t due for another week. “You want to start tonight?”
“The sooner, the better right?”
“Okay,” You nod, suddenly nervous about this whole situation. “Okay,” You say a bit more confidently. “You’re paying for this.”
“I know,” Rosie chuckles, signaling to the server for the bill. 
What did you get yourself into?
--
You open the door for Rosie, letting her in first before following. You shut the door while she takes off her shoes, neatly placing them to the side as you take off your coat. 
“So this is your place,” Rosie comments, walking along the wall as she inspects the photos. It is her first time here, not that she was never welcomed. Your apartment has always been your safe place, only allowing a select few here.  “Did you take these?” 
“Yeah, I’m minoring in photography, so,” You shrug, walking past her as she stares at a photo from Jennie’s birthday. “I’m going to change into sweats, did you need anything? Water? Soju?” You offer because you’re considering taking a shot before you get started to ease your nerves. 
Rosie laughs, shaking her head, “Soju? Really? You need that?” 
“Don’t make fun of me. It isn’t every day that one of the hottest girls at school asks me to teach her to have sex,” You mutter, but Rosie hears you loud and clear. 
“You admit that I’m hot then?” You swear you can hear her smirking behind you. 
“Fuck off, help yourself to whatever,” You roll your eyes as she laughs. 
You don’t bother entertaining her any longer, making your way to your room. You change into something comfy—grey sweats and a white shirt. You hadn’t expected company tonight, nor had you expected having sex. It’s been about a week since, even though your ex-girlfriend messaged you about hooking up for fun the other day. You didn’t even respond, knowing that would just end up messy.
When you return to the living room, Rosie sits on your couch, legs crossed as she types away on her phone. You’d bet she was texting Jennie. 
“So how do you want to do this?” You ask awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you sit next to her. You leave a decent amount of space in between, not wanting to seem too eager. 
“I don’t know,” Rosie sighs, “Is there a way we can just ease into it?” 
“Like making out and stuff?” You’ve never spoken about sex so mechanically, that this is a first for you too. 
“I guess? I don’t really know how to start this,” Rosie says unsurely, looking away. 
“Hey,” You reach over, a finger gently tilting her chin to look at you, “There’s no pressure okay? We can just watch TV first and go from there. We literally don’t even have to do anything. As long as you’re comfortable.”
You watch her lip quiver. You hope she doesn’t cry. The last girl you made cry was Nayeon when you broke up with her.
“Okay,” Rosie nods, leaning into your hand. “Thanks again for this. I know this whole situation is awkward.” 
“Stop,” You wave dismissively, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. “It’s important to you, so I guess by default it’s important to me. Your pace,” You smile. 
When Rosie smiles back, you can feel something itch behind your rib cage. You quickly shake that away before retracting your hand. “Here,” You grab the remote, “Put something on, I’ll get us drinks.”
“Oh there’s this new Netflix reality show I want to watch,” You hear Rosie say as you walk to the kitchen. 
You didn’t have that much to offer, since you hadn’t had the time to head to the store. You do opt for a couple bottles of soju to ease both of your nerves along with water because hydration matters. You peruse your pantry and there’s a bag of unopened chips, figuring that would be good to have too. At least for yourself to keep your hands busy. 
When you return to the couch, placing the items on the coffee table, you see the opening credits of what looks like university students? 
“What’s this about?” You ask. This time, you sit closer to her, so that any shift in your leg, your knees would touch. 
Rosie goes on to explain the premise of the show, where people are about to be of legal age and how they form relationships in two different settings. She heard about the show from Lisa who binged it with Jennie in one night. 
“Is this sappy?” You pour a shot each, handing Rosie the glass. 
“Probably, but it’s wholesome,” Rosie raises the glass, “To my virginity?”
“I’m absolutely not toasting to that,” You roll your eyes, taking the shot without waiting. 
Rosie scoffs, downing the drink in one go before putting the glass on the coffee table. “You’re so annoying sometimes.” 
You don’t respond, instead choosing to pour another shot as the contestants of the show enter the classroom. You usually don’t drink this much on a weekday, but this situation warrants it. It feels surreal to be with Rosie, alone, in your apartment of all places. You couldn’t remember the last time you were willingly alone with her, but the thought of those memories were tucked away. 
“Here,” Rosie grimaces at the drink. “Just one more.” 
Rosie relents, taking the shot without making another annoying toast. You smirk before following. The liquid goes down smooth, but you feel the effects starting. Your cheeks feel warm, soothing some–not all–of the nerves. 
You lean back into the couch, throwing an arm casually over the cushion. Rosie automatically leans into you, sighing deeply before resting her head on your shoulder. 
“You smell good,” Rosie comments, snuggling deeper into your side. The compliment throws you off because she hadn’t said anything remotely nice to you in years. 
“Uh thanks,” You bring your free hand to scratch the back of your neck. Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nor do you. You settle in, letting what’s on the screen take your attention. 
The show is corny, but you understand why Rosie said it’s wholesome. The sense of innocence and pureness everyone has when it comes to relationships is something you miss. You hadn’t had that kind of outlook in years, which slightly makes you want to go into your future relationships more honest about how you feel.
But Nayeon cheating on you over a year ago left its damage on you. 
You’d never be disrespectful towards women, but you were upfront that whatever you did with them would never be serious. You couldn’t let it get too intense. Sure they’d always want more, but you couldn’t give yourself to someone like that again. 
At least not yet. 
“What’re you thinking about?” Rosie asks after a few minutes, resting her hand on your stomach. 
“Nayeon,” You say simply. 
She raises her head to look at you, “Huh, what why? Didn’t you break up like last year?”
“This show’s making me a little sentimental,” You say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 
“Why’d you two break up anyways?” 
“What’d you hear?” You prod, curious as to what Nayeon told people. 
“According to Jennie, who heard it from Sana, Nayeon was tired of arguing,” Rosie furrows her eyebrows as she remembers what she heard. 
That’s one way to put it. 
“Ah well I guess so,” You shrug. 
“There’s more to it huh?” She's as perceptive as ever. 
“She cheated on me,” Rosie’s eyes widened. “We got into an argument about her meeting my parents. She kept pushing the issue, but you know how my parents are. She storms out and next thing you know, I’m getting a call from Jungkook to come to this party to pick up Nayeon cause she’s wasted.”
You remember that night clearly, something you wanted to very much forget. 
“I got there. I’m looking all over for her, Jungkook and Taehyung have no idea where she went. We pretty much split up looking for her, and lucky me, the first door I opened, Nayeon’s naked, on top of some guy.” 
Rosie sits up straight, crossing her legs on the cushion as she faces you. The concerned expression etched on her face has you believing she almost cares, but you don’t. 
“And she sees me, which immediately sobers her up. All I could do was nod, telling her that we’ll talk in the morning,” The memory still hurts to think about. “Nayeon, being Nayeon, followed me out, apologizing, saying it was a mistake.”
Rosie takes hold of your hand, and you let her. Letting this out feels nice since you hadn’t told anyone what happened. You told Nayeon to tell people whatever she felt was best, and you’d keep the real reason a secret. 
“Anyways, next day, we talk and she’s sorry, of course, but she just didn’t understand what the big deal was. It’s not that I didn’t love her, cause I did, but I didn’t think we were there yet for her to meet them,” You sigh, shaking your head. “But yeah we broke up. I didn’t care what she said, and I didn’t defend myself when Sana and Jihyo cornered me, calling me an ass. I just started to sleep around, which probably was the reason why I got that playboy reputation.” 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Rosie says quietly after a minute, the words sinking in. 
You smile sadly, “It wasn’t for anyone to know, but it’s okay. It really is. Relationships are messy, which is why I avoid any emotional connection with girls. Not because I think less of them, but because I think the least of myself in that regard.”
“Stop,” Rosie squeezes your hand, forcing you to look at her. “I don’t know how you are in relationships, but I’m sure that whoever you’re with is lucky.”
“You’re just saying that,” Self-deprecation is something you’ve mastered in the past year.
Rosie tugs your hand with enough force so your face is in front of hers. You could feel her breath against your skin, the faint smell of alcohol lingering. “Stop,” She whispers. “I’m not.”
Blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the sudden confession of why you are the way you’ve been. 
You kiss her, bringing your lips to hers. You sense her freeze, but she sighs softly after a moment. It ignites a fire in your chest, wanting nothing more than her close to you. 
You pull away, leaning your forehead on hers. You open your eyes first to see hers closed. 
“Sorry, I-”
“No,” Rosie cuts you off, cupping your face before kissing you again. 
Out of pure reflex, you pull Rosie on top of you, straddling your thighs as you wrap your arms around her waist. She lets out a small oomph, which you pause, but she continues moving her lips against yours. 
You dip your tongue in between her lips, earning a moan as she threads her fingers in your hair. A shiver goes down your spine as she tugs lightly, a move that turns you on immensely. Your cock stirs as her kisses become firmer, more sure. 
Rosie’s body starts to move. It’s subtle, but her hips slightly shift, causing you to pull away, groaning. 
“Chaeng,” You pant, hands gripping her waist to steady her. 
“Am I doing something wrong?” Rosie asks softly, chest heaving as she rests her forehead on yours. 
“No,” You kiss her on the nose. “You’re doing everything right. I just have to control myself,” You let out a breath. 
“Would it be the worst thing if you lost control?” Rosie murmurs, pecking you softly on the lips. 
The question goes straight to your cock. It doesn’t help that she’s seated right on top of it that you have to remember that this isn’t about you.
Yes is what you want to say because this is still new to her, and as lame as it sounds, like you actually care about her, you do want to make this enjoyable.
“I don’t know,” You shrug, loosening your grip. “But I don’t want to rush into it. Small steps right?”
“Right,” Rosie nods, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So what next?” 
“Uh,” Your brain’s short circuiting because all the blood in your body seems to have rushed south. “Maybe just rock your hips and see how it feels?”
“Like this?” She gently rolls herself over you, testing the waters. 
“Is it doing anything for you?” You grit out. 
“I’m not sure, let me try again,” She rolls her body again, but with a little more pressure that she moans softly. “That did.”
It definitely did something for you because your cock stiffens at the contact. 
“Just do what feels good for you,” Your head falls back as she repeats the motion, undulating her hips over your erection. “Yeah just like that,” You sigh, guiding her movements along your length. 
All you feel is Rosie. She’s wearing leggings, but the friction over your sweats overwhelms your senses. You act on impulse, kissing her again. She returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm, grinding down. 
You didn’t think dry humping would get you this worked up, but the small moans Rosie lets out against your lips has you hoping you don’t make a mess of yourself. 
“Fuck,” Rosie moans, tearing her lips off yours as her rhythm falters. 
It leaves her neck exposed, so you trail your lips along her chin, peppering soft bites that has her gripping your shoulders tightly. 
You feel her nails digging into your skin. Her pace quickens before her body suddenly seizes, jerking on top of you, as she moans loudly.
Fuck she’s coming. 
Doing what you can to prolong her orgasm, you rock up into her, hoping you’re hitting her clit at the right angle. Her body freezes, shaking that you didn’t have the reflex to control your own body before cumming into your sweats, groaning in the crook of her neck. 
You hadn’t had a visceral response like that in years, but that was the hottest thing you’d ever experienced. The fact that Rosie got off by rubbing herself against you goes straight to your head. 
Rosie’s breathing heavily against you, playing with the hairs on your neck as you try to regulate your own breath. 
“I—fuck, I’m so sorry,” Rosie says softly, resting her butt on your thighs. 
“What?” Your voice comes out hoarse. “Why are you apologizing?” 
“I don’t know,” She buries her head into your neck. 
“That was hot,” You confess, placing a soft kiss on her neck. Her body shivers at the contact, causing you to smile.
“Really?” She sounds so unsure, that you don’t know how else to make her believe you. 
“Really,” You pull back to her, avoiding your gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a little wild, but she looks hot either way. 
Maybe it was the release of hormones after an orgasm that could be clouding your thoughts, but you find her so attractive at this moment that you want to kiss her again. 
“Did you, you know?” Rosie glances down, biting her lip. 
“Uh,” You force out a chuckle. “Yeah… Sorry about that. I should probably change.” 
“Right,” Rosie’s eyes stay looking at your crotch before she shakes her head. “Right,” She repeats and moves off your lap. 
“Give me a few and I’ll drive you home, okay?” You stand, placing a hand over the wet spot on the fabric. 
“You really don’t have to, I can call a car.”
“No,” Shaking your head, “I insist.”
“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes,” And just like that, it’s back to normal. 
“Yeah and you used me to cum, so,” She throws a pillow at you, which you easily dodge, laughing as you walk to your room. 
--
--
Can we meet tonight? 
The words glowing on your screen as you walk out of the building, just finished your last class of the day. 
It’s been about a week since Rosie asked you. You hadn’t seen her, but she occasionally sent you articles regarding sex and if you ever experienced such things. The one that had you almost drop your phone was if you ever made a girl squirt, which you haven’t, but you explained not all girls can. 
Instead of replying back with a message, you call her. 
“Hello?”
“Where are you? We can do take away,” You offer, walking in the direction of where she might be. 
“I’m in the music building with Jennie,” You immediately turn around to go the other direction. 
“Okay I’m on the way, I’ll be there in a little,” You hang up without waiting for her to respond. You’ll probably get a slap or two, but it’s not like it matters. 
By the time you reach the music building, Rosie and Jennie are outside, talking with another person. You can’t see who it is, but as you get closer, it’s Nayeon. 
Fuck. 
It wasn’t like Nayeon and you were on bad terms. You were always polite and treated her with the same respect you would like anyone else. It would just look suspicious to be walking alone with Rosie since she always made remarks about the weird feeling she got when you were in the same vicinity. She described it as unresolved sexual tension, but it never felt like that to you. 
“Oppa,” Jennie greets, her gummy smile forming as you walk up to them. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes as they dart between you and Rosie because of course she knows about the arrangement. 
“Hey,” You smile, waving awkwardly to Nayeon. 
Nayeon gives a small hi while Rosie slaps your shoulder, “That’s for hanging up on me.” 
“Okay,” You rub where she hit. “Ready to go?” You ask, reaching for Rosie’s bag without thinking. 
“Uh?” Jennie’s eyes widen while Nayeon’s narrow at the gesture. “How nice of you?” Rosie reluctantly hands over her bag. 
You don’t know what came over you because you definitely didn’t just carry a girl’s bag, which Nayeon was very aware of. She knew you only carried stuff for the girl you’re dating, something she experienced firsthand. 
“My way of saying sorry for hanging up on you,” You say smoothly. Her bag is heavy, which you hope they can’t tell you’re struggling.
“Nayeon was telling us about a party this weekend,” Jennie says. 
“It’s Mina’s birthday,” Nayeon says softly, eyes on you. “You should come if you’re free.” There’s a hopeful tone in her voice.
“Um,” You’re put on the spot, wracking your brain for any excuse, but Rosie saves you. 
“Don’t we have dinner with our parents? If we get back early enough, you could probably make it.”
You try to ignore the way Nayeon’s face falls, but you can’t ignore Jennie’s confusion since she obviously would’ve known. 
“Oh yeah, you’re right,” You play along. You hadn’t had a family dinner in months, but it was a somewhat believable excuse. “I’ll see if I can make it.” 
You listen as the girls say bye, Jennie opting to walk with Nayeon to catch up. When the two women leave, Rosie tries grabbing her bag back. 
“What’re you doing?” She huffs when you don’t let go. 
“I can carry my own bag, you know,” Rosie walks in front of you, clearly annoyed. 
“I know, but just let me do this for you.” 
“You’re most likely giving me an orgasm tonight, you’re doing enough,” Rosie rolls her eyes, attempting once again. “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” 
“Fine, here,” Her comment pisses you off, but she has a point. The university playboy holding the bag of one of the most wanted girls on campus? That would surely be part of the gossip mill. You hand over the bag, a muttered thanks makes you roll your eyes. 
“You’re paying for dinner tonight,” Rosie states. 
You honestly already planned to, but you nod anyway. 
--
“Can you take your shirt off?” Rosie asks, out of breath, as you hover over her. 
“Uh yeah,” You lean back, pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere to the side before bringing your lips back to hers. 
That same show plays in the background, unopened food forgotten on the coffee table. The plan was to eat then fool around, but Rosie had something else in mind. 
“Okay don’t let this get to your head,” Rosie says against your lips, in between kisses, trailing a finger over your abdomen, “But you’re actually hot.” 
The muscles flex under her touch, that you pull her body to the edge of the couch cushion, “I know,” You smirk, dipping a hand underneath her blouse. “Is this okay?” You ask. 
“More than okay,” Rosie spreads her legs wider to let you rest in between. 
You grind yourself against the apex of her thighs, thankful she wore a skirt today. She moans as it spurs you on to do it again. Mimicking the motion of thrusting in and out of her has your imagination running wild as to what it will be like when you’re actually inside her. 
“Fuck,” Rosie grips your arms as you continue the motion. “Don’t stop.” 
You won’t until she cums, and her back arches as she rolls her hips down to meet your thrusts. After one particularly hard thrust, her body tenses and bingo. 
“There?” You breathe out as you hit the same spot again. She nods, as you watch her face scrunch up. “Gonna cum for me?” 
“Yeah,” Her eyes open, gaze locked in between your legs. “Fuck, Jennie was right. You’re huge.”
As if your ego couldn’t get any bigger. You’re sure she felt just how big you were last week, but she most likely didn’t see it. It probably didn’t help that you were wearing sweats that accentuated your size. 
“Thanks,” You grunt, too focused on her pleasure and your own. 
You flip her skirt up, mouth watering at the sight of her choice in lingerie. A simple lavender thong with a small bow at the waistband has your hips rutting into her faster. 
“Fuck you’re so hot,” You bite your lip, head thrown back as she moans louder. 
“I think I’m—oh shit,” Rosie’s body tenses in your hands, back arching as her orgasm washes over her. You feel her clit pulse through your sweats that you continue grinding against her. 
You’re more composed this time and don’t prematurely cum. However, your cock hurts from not having a release. You’ll likely just suffer through it and deal with your problem after you drop her off. 
You don’t move from your position, keeping the pressure of Rosie’s cloth-covered pussy against you. You might not get to cum, but it still feels nice. After a few minutes of her regulating her breathing and you thinking of everything not related to fucking her, she smiles up at you. You return the smile, tickling her skin that she squirms in your hold. 
“Stop!” She slaps your arm. “You know I’m ticklish.” 
“I know,” You fold over, resting your head on her stomach. “Was that okay?” Her skirt hasn’t moved, and you’re trying very hard not to touch her there. 
“Yeah, that was… something,” Rosie sighs, placing her hand lazily on your head, lightly scratching. “Can you do something else since we’re already here?” 
“Sure, what?” You look up to Rosie biting her lip. 
“Can you touch me?” Rosie asks softly, adding, “Like down there?” 
Your palm twitches at the request, hell, your cock twitches too. 
“Uh, yeah,” You push yourself up, kneeling in between her legs. They try to close, but with how you’re positioned, it doesn’t go very far. “Just let me know if anything hurts, I’ll stop.”
Rosie nods, giving you the signal to do something. What you really wanted to do was find out how she tastes, but you tuck that thought away for another time. There will be a time in the future where that’ll happen. 
You reach under her skirt, gently pulling the fabric down. She kicks it away, leaving her completely bare from the waist down.
You’re fucked. 
Your mouth waters at the sight of her. Your gaze must’ve made her nervous because she quickly covers herself. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” You pull back. 
“No, no,” Rosie shakes her head, crossing her legs. “I’m just nervous.”
“Hey,” You move to sit next to her. “We don’t have to do anything.”
“Can we go to your room?” Rosie offers weakly, which you nod, standing, extending a hand out. She gives you a small smile, taking it before you pull her up. She stumbles a little, but you’re there to catch her. “Lead the way?” 
You guide Rosie to your room, nerves prickling at you because no woman has ever been in your room except Nayeon. You had a strict rule of sleeping with women at their place, never yours. Rosie notices your hesitation when you stand in the doorway, asking if you were okay. 
“Um, this is going to sound bad, but the last woman that was in my bed was Nayeon,” You say quietly, letting go of Rosie’s hand. 
“That’s okay?” Rosie says unsurely. “If it’s too much for you, we can go back to the couch.” 
You shake your head. It isn’t that big of a deal, you were probably overthinking it. “No, it’s okay. I just felt like telling you that,” Which was true. You wanted to tell Rosie that, even though there wasn’t a reason to. 
Rosie kisses your shoulder softly before walking around you towards your bed. She slips underneath the comforter, which you follow right after her, laying on your side as she’s on her back. 
“You okay? We don’t have to do anything else tonight,” You prop your head on your hand, staring at her as she looks at the ceiling. 
“Yeah I’m okay, more than okay. It just feels…” Rosie trails off, pouting a little as she tries to find the words. She looks pretty cute like this, but you immediately shake that thought away. You aren’t supposed to be having thoughts like that when this whole situation was transactional. “Intimate, I guess. To be in your bed like this.” 
“I suppose so.” 
“But yeah let’s keep going,” Rosie glances at you before turning to face you. “How should we…?”
A question pops into your mind, “Have you ever touched yourself?” 
“Err, yes?” 
“What does that mean?” You chuckle.
“I guess I have. I’ve never gotten off on my own though. I’ve put a finger inside myself, but it felt weird so I just stopped,” Rosie blushes, turning away. 
“Uncomfortable?” You ask softly, bringing your hand to rest on her stomach. 
“I guess? I don’t exactly know what I’m doing,” Rosie mumbles. 
“Let me, yeah?” You move so you’re sitting up, back against the headboard. “Come here, sit in between my legs.” 
Rosie complies, settling in between your legs as she lays against your chest. You kiss the crown of her head, sliding your arms around her body. 
Now this feels intimate, and oddly feels right to be with her like this. Again, you shake that feeling away, reminding yourself that this is just sex. 
A finger traces down her stomach aimlessly, hoping it relaxes her. She sighs contentedly before resting her head on your shoulder. You kiss her neck, and she giggles. 
“That tickles,” Rosie says shyly. 
“But in a good way right?” You murmur, bringing your hand lower. Her legs automatically widen and her breath hitches as you apply light pressure on her hip bone. 
“Yeah,” Rosie sighs, shifting against your cock. 
“Good. You trust me right?” You dip your hand in between her legs, resting on her pubis. Her hands find your thighs to hold on to, nodding. 
You swipe a finger in between her folds, slowly, and she’s absolutely soaked. Your cock twitches at how wet she is. You’re sure you’re leaking into the fabric of your sweats. 
“You’re wet,” You don’t recognize your voice. 
“I’m sorry?” Rosie moans as you swipe through again, gently brushing over her clit. 
“No, it’s fucking hot,” You murmur and her nails scratch at your skin. “So fucking hot.” 
You repeat the motion a few times, eliciting soft moans as she squirms against you. Your other hand carefully unbuttons her blouse, and when the last button comes undone, you cup her breast, squeezing lightly. 
“You’re being a tease,” You smirk against her skin, nipping lightly as she drops her head down. 
“Just making you feel comfortable,” You chuckle as you swipe down, dipping your index finger inside. 
“Oh shit,” Rosie throws her head back when you pull your finger out. 
Your finger circles her entrance slowly as her legs spread wider. This position isn’t the best and you’ll likely strain your wrist, but you couldn’t care less about yourself at the moment. You insert your finger in again, but this time, you don’t pull out, letting your finger rest inside her. 
You imagine your cock inside her, stretching her out. Your cock literally aches to be inside her because if this was how she felt—tight, warm, wet—you’d bust. 
“Move,” Rosie commands through gritted teeth, her hips rolling down to get more of you inside her. 
“So impatient,” You whisper, biting her skin softly. “It’s like you want me or something.” 
“Oh fuck you,” Rosie’s nails digging into your skin as you start to move. 
“You will,” Your voice comes out low, slowly moving in and out of her slick. “Not tonight,” Unfortunately, “But you will.” 
“You’re so—fuck,” Rosie chokes on her words when your palm brushes over her clit, the penetration overstimulating her. 
You smirk, freeing your hand from her chest and bringing hers under yours, “Touch yourself.”
Rosie easily obliges, rubbing her fingers over her clit as you begin pumping a smidge closer. Her pussy’s still tight, but her body’s slowly welcoming the intrusion. Based on the blissed-out expression on her face, eyes closed, she’s biting her lip. 
“Don’t be shy Rosie,” You kiss behind her ear, “Let me hear you.” 
Her eyes open, and the lust is there. She moans louder as her fingers move faster, causing you to match her pace. Your cock aches, wanting some sort of relief that your hips lightly thrust against her backside. 
“Fuck,” Is all you can say because you want to fuck Rosie, especially with how her walls are squeezing your fingers.
“Cum,” You say simply and she does.
Her body spasms, back arching as she presses her butt directly on your cock. She lets out the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard, drawn out as her free hand reaches for your neck. Her walls aren’t letting your fingers move, so you opt to gently move them to prolong her orgasm.
After a minute, or two, Rosie falls limp in your hold, her arms flailing over your thighs. You slowly pull your fingers out, peering over her shoulder to see her slick. A nasty thought comes to you, and you bringing your fingers to your mouth, cleaning them to see what she tastes like, and dear fuck you want it directly from the source. 
“You’re fucking gross,” Rosie pants softly, weakly lifting her arm to swat your hand away. 
“You wanna taste yourself?” You brush your finger against her lips, and she makes a disgusted face. “Eh, if not now, later.”
Rosie tries to sit up, but she falls back into your chest, resting her head on your shoulder as you bring your arms around her stomach. You kiss her neck, murmuring, “Was that okay?” 
“It was great,” Rosie nods slowly, turning her head slightly to kiss your cheek. “Thanks for that. I see the appeal in it now.”
You chuckle, chest vibrating against her body, “Yeah sex is pretty great.” 
“I’m so tired,” Rosie yawns.
“Uh,” You’re still hard, which you hoped Rosie was too blissed out to notice. “Let me just shower first and I’ll take you home.” A cold shower was needed. You’ll probably give yourself relief when you get home, but you don’t think you’ll be able to survive the drive. 
“Okay,” Rosie yawns again, “But can we stay here for a few more minutes?” 
“Of course.”
Rosie sighs contentedly, snuggling into your chest. You typically didn’t cuddle after, but with her, it felt warranted. You wouldn’t say it felt right, but it didn’t feel wrong. You were comfortable doing this with her, and you hadn’t felt that since Nayeon. 
You would be lying if you said you hadn’t missed Rosie. Child-you would be happy to spend time with her, but adult-you knows what this is—sex. A knot forms in your stomach at the thought, but your rational side knew you  and her weren’t ever going to be together. 
Weird, but you dismiss the feeling completely.
“I’ll give you some clothes to wear,” You offer, nuzzling your chin into her. 
“They’ll give you shit, you know that right?” Referring to her friends.
“Tell Jennie she never got anything from me,” You quip, earning a light slap on your leg. “What! She didn’t!” 
“Stop talking about my friend who you’ve slept with after you just gave me two orgasms,” You didn’t need to see her face to know she rolled her eyes. 
“Sorry,” You mumble, kissing her neck. 
Rosie laughs, a sweet airy laugh that has your heart fluttering, and you think that it’s a sound you’d want to hear more often. 
--
--
Someone ruffles your hair as you’re zoned in on finishing this expense report and you hear laughter behind you. 
“What the fuck,” You pull your headphones out to see the offender. 
Rosie. 
With Lisa right behind her. 
“Sorry,” Lisa peeks her head over Rosie, “You just looked too focused that I wanted to mess with you.” 
“What do you two want?” Your eyes narrow as Rosie smiles. It eases your irritation, but still.
“Figured we’d say hello. Chaeng saw you, but didn’t want to disturb you. I, however, did,” Lisa answers, stepping forward. There’s a shit-eating grin on her face. 
“Hey,” Rosie says softly. “I’m sorry. I told her not to.” 
“It’s okay,” You shrug, checking your watch. 
“Do you have plans tonight?” Lisa wiggles her eyebrows, eyes darting to Rosie, who slaps the back of her head. “Ow.”
“I have a game with Yoongi in about an hour.” 
“Oh we should watch!” Lisa nudges Rosie, who rolls her eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” 
Rosie gives you a look, as if she’s waiting for you to invite her yourself. You smile, giving a small nod. 
“Okay fine,” Rosie sighs, shaking her head, but she smiles at you anyways. 
“Are you good oppa? I’ve seen Yoongi play, and he’s pretty good,” Lisa asks as you start to pack your stuff. 
“I guess you’ll see,” You didn’t like talking about yourself. You considered yourself decent, but there would always be someone better. 
When you finish, you decide you wanted to tease Rosie. You wait until Lisa’s a few feet away, leaning forward, “I’m usually pretty riled up after a game, so I hope you’ll come over after.” 
The blush on Rosie’s face has you grinning, which gets even wider when she gives you a small nod.
--
“I don’t get why you do that.”
“Do what?” You ask, mouth full of mandu. 
“Say you’re not good, but then score twenty points like it’s nothing.”
“So you were keeping track?” You smirk, reaching for another mandu on the table with your chopsticks. 
“No, Yoongi told me after the game,” Rosie huffs, crossing her arms as she slouches into the couch. 
“It’s okay if you did, I’m flattered you paid that much attention to me.” That earns you a slap, but you couldn’t care. You played the whole game so you were starving. 
You’re back at yours, just hanging out. You really had no intention of doing anything with Rosie tonight, even if you did tease her about being riled up. As much as you’d hate to admit it, you enjoy spending time with her as of lately. 
Lisa gave you a thumbs up when Rosie told her she’d be leaving with you. No one seemed to notice when you two walked out together, but Yoongi did text you asking where you went since the team usually went out after. 
“I have a question.”
“Go for it.”
“Do you ever feel frustrated after we you know?” 
“Uh,” The question catches you off guard. 
It’s been two days since, and you can admit it was a struggle after feeling her cum on your fingers. You thought about having sex with someone to give you some relief, but that thought had the knot in your stomach tightening. 
“Frustrated in the sense I need to release,” You answer honestly, but quickly followed up with, “But it’s not that big of a deal. I took care of it.” The tips of your ears burned at the implication.
Rosie sighs next to you, shaking her head, “Okay can I be honest?” 
“Uh of course?” 
“I feel bad,” You were about to bite into the last mandu, but you stopped. “I feel like you’re always making me feel good, but I feel like I’m doing nothing in return.”
You place the mandu back in the box, dropping your chopsticks with it. 
“Believe me you are,” The memory of Rosie’s face as her orgasm hit was something that could not be forgotten. 
“But it doesn’t feel like it!” She throws her hands up dramatically. “I haven’t even seen your you know yet.”
“Oh my god,” You chuckle. “Just say it. It’s not a bad word.” 
“Cock?”
“No.”
“Penis?”
“No.”
This conversation is getting nowhere. 
“Take it out,” Rosie says suddenly.
“Only if you say cock,” You raise an eyebrow. 
“No.”
“Then no cock for you,” You poke her nose after she huffs, hitting your leg. 
After a minute, Rosie shoves her face into your chest. She mumbles something that you can’t quite make out, asking her to repeat. 
“Cock,” Rosie says quietly, rubbing her face deeper from embarrassment. 
“Was that so hard?” You smile, kissing her head. “Do you really want me to ‘take it out’ as you so eloquently put it?” 
“Yeah,” Rosie mumbles, and you swear there’s a pout. 
“You do it,” You offer, shifting slightly to wrap an arm around her. “No pressure Chaeng. Do whatever you feel is right and if anything hurts me, I’ll tell you.”
Rosie shyly asks if you could move to your bed, which you happily oblige. You swoop her in her arms, causing her to scream and slap your chest the whole way to your room. You laugh as she curses at you, but it’s fun for you and you know she thinks it is too. 
“You’re annoying,” Rosie comments after you drop her on the bed. “Literally the most annoying person I know. How do girls put up with you?” 
“I can think of a few ways that make up for it,” You sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. 
“Arrogant too,” Rosie adds, shifting her body so she’s next to you. 
Neither of you say anything while you’re sitting. You’re trying to think of how to guide Rosie while she stares at the floor. An idea pops into your mind, as you scoot until your back is pressed against the headboard. 
“What’re you doing?” 
“Seduce me,” You say simply, patting the space next to you. Her eyebrows furrow, but she’s right back next to you in no time. 
“How?” 
“We’ve done a few things together, I’m sure you could figure it out.” It wouldn’t take much to turn you on. Your control slips every time Rosie’s over that your body has a mind of its own. 
She could kiss you and you’d be hard, as embarrassing as that is.
“Um okay,” Rosie bites her lip as she looks at you. 
You smile, winking even, that makes her roll her eyes. 
Rosie leans forward, kissing you softly on the lips. You keep your hands still, but your lips move easily against hers. She lets out a small moan when you dip your tongue into her mouth. Her arms circle around your neck, pulling you closer.
The blood in your body rushes south, waking your cock as Rosie presses against you. Kissing her has become one of your favorite things even if you’ve only done less than a handful of times. As someone who has had a healthy sex life, it’s scary how easily your body reacts to her.
She detaches her lips, placing soft kisses along your jawline. You let her, relaxing into the headboard as your eyes close.
A groan escapes from your lips when Rosie places her hand over your crotch. 
“What?” She pulls back, a concerned look etched on her face. Her hand doesn’t move though. 
“Nothing, you’re doing great,” You take a breath, “Just caught me off guard.” 
Rosie makes a sound, but goes back to kissing your face. Her hand starts to move, palming your cock over your sweats.
Your body immediately reacts, hardening underneath her touch. She smirks against your neck, “Well hello.” 
You laugh, shaking your head before kissing her sweetly on her forehead, “It’s a bodily reaction, what do you expect?”
“I think your body likes me,” Rosie brings her lips to yours before sitting straight. In a swift move, she swings her leg over you, cupping your face and bringing you in a bruising kiss, not giving you a chance to answer.
You instinctively rest your hands on her waist, pulling her body flushed against yours. She lets out a moan as your grip tightens. 
You’re too lost in the kiss to notice Rosie sneaking her hand in between. Her fingers brush against the waistband of your sweats, abdomen tightening at her touch. You mumble a pathetic please because all she’s doing is riling you up. She smirks against your lips, dipping her hand to actually touch you. 
Your head’s spinning and your hips involuntarily thrust into her hand. Given the space, it’s a little tight, but Rosie’s hand wrapped around you has your control slipping faster than before. You pull your sweats down so you’re fully free.
“Is this okay?” Rosie asks in between kisses as she slowly moves her hand up and down your length.
“Fuck yes,” You groan, detaching your lips from hers as your head falls backs. 
Her hand’s soft, velvet-like, as she strokes you. You’re almost scared to look down because you feel yourself leaking as she cups the tip. She tentatively spreads it over you, that it’s making you lose your mind. 
You open your eyes to Rosie intently staring at her ministrations, her tongue slightly peaking out. 
“You can squeeze a little, but—ow shit!” Your hand shoots out, holding her wrist as you gasp. 
“Oh my god,” Rosie automatically lets go, “I’m so sorry!” 
You cough, catching your breath. You’re already sensitive, but it felt like Rosie was about to rip your dick off. “I’m fine,” You cough again, “Just a little lighter.” 
“Sorry,” Rosie mumbles, looking away. 
You place your hand over hers, together enclosing over your cock. “Like this,” You slowly move her hand under yours, applying enough pressure. Her hand’s smaller than yours, so she can’t completely fit around your girth. 
“How does it feel?” Rosie asks softly. 
“Good,” You nod, eyes rolling back as you let go of her hand. “So good.” 
Rosie experiments with her grip and pace for a while, going faster at times while squeezing the right amount that has you seeing stars. You’re too focused on her hand that you don’t notice her move off your lap. 
Something warm envelopes your cock and your eyes shoot open to Rosie’s mouth around the head. 
“Fuck,” You grip the bedsheet, nearly tearing it off. “Give me a warning next time,” You moan. 
“Sorry,” Your cock fucking pops out of her mouth as she continues to stroke you, “It seemed warranted. Too much?” 
“Not enough,” Your abdomen tenses as she engulfs you again, going farther down your length. 
Her tongue licks your tip as you watch her cheeks hollow out. You're mesmerized as she moves her head up and down your length, and each time she gets lower. 
“Has anyone ever deepthroated you?” Rosie asks, catching her breath, but her hands don’t remain idle. 
“Uh,” You barely hear her question, “I don’t know,” You couldn’t give a fuck about anyone else at the moment, but if she wants to try, you’ll let her. 
“Can I try?” Rosie places a sweet kiss on the tip, making a face as a smidge of precum gets on her lip. 
“By all means,” Your eyes roll back. Your hand itches to hold onto her head, but you’re scared of forcing her to take more than she can. 
Rosie’s lips are around you once again, and the tip hits the back of her throat. There’s a sharp inhale, and you’re not sure if it’s from her or you, but that doesn’t deter her. 
“Chaeng,” You grit out and your hand moves to the back of her head, threading your fingers in her hair. You don’t push down, but her throat relaxes and takes you all the way. “Fuck,” Your fingers fist through her locks, keeping her there until her finger taps on your thigh. 
You immediately let go, and she comes off your cock, a slight dribble of drool on her chin. 
“How was that?” Rosie smirks. 
“Either make me cum or fuck off,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her that she doesn’t reply, instead taking you down her throat once more, swallowing around your length that you cum without warning. 
You try to pull her off as your release shoots down her throat, but she’s adamant to take all of you. Your eyes roll back when she swallows, the pressure becoming too much as your hips thrust up into her mouth. 
Rosie’s mouth is dangerous, and you’re thanking whatever deity for her skills. You’ve had your fair share of blow jobs, but she’s number one in your book. You’re definitely never going to tell her because practice makes perfect, and you know she’s a perfectionist. It might be a little selfish, but you’ll gladly be willing to take whatever she gives you until this is over. 
Once your orgasm and she’s drained you for all that you’ve had, your hand relaxes, dropping to the side. She slowly comes off your cock, overly sensitive, but she licks the underside and that has your head spinning. 
“So,” Rosie sits in between your legs, wiping her chin with the back of her hand, “How was I?”
You’re still trying to catch your breath, but you weakly get out, “There’s always room for improvement.”
“Really?” Rosie raises an eyebrow, eyeing your now-soft cock. “I drained you in less than fifteen minutes.” 
“I’ve been pent up,” You mumble, eyes closing. “I blame you.”
“Just admit you think I’m hot,” Rosie’s suddenly hovering over you, hair tickling your face. 
“Move your hair,” You try to push her off, but you’re bone dead. Playing a game followed by this has your body exhausted. 
“Admit it,” Rosie kisses your lips, a slight tang on them. “I did,” She adds. 
You groan, wrapping an arm around her so she’s fully on top of you, “Why do you need to hear that?” You know she knows you think so. 
“Cause,” She kisses you again, leaving her lips on yours.
“Cause what?” You sigh, lazily moving your lips against hers. 
Rosie’s tongue dips into your mouth, short circuiting your brain before murmuring, “Cause it’s you.”
Your eyes feel heavy, wanting to pass out and you actually might. Something washes over you before your body shuts down. You don’t know why, but you tell her, “You’re not hot, you’re beautiful,” before sleep takes over completely.
(You wake up a few hours later, alone, but not without a note on your nightstand, groaning at Rosie’s cursive— 
Thanks handsome guy &lt;3 see you around. 
ps I called a car, and before you beat yourself up, it’s okay)
--
--
It’s stupid. 
You’re stupid. 
A fool, some might say.
You’re calling yourself a fool. 
What compels you to be at Rosie’s apartment door, waiting, holding a bouquet of roses, without even asking if she’s home, is beyond you. 
It’s a risky move, the longer you wait for her—or anyone for that matter—to open the door. 
You immediately felt guilty waking up to Rosie’s note. You didn’t even return the favor, and you’ve been wanting to. In your mind, showing up at her place, uninvited, with flowers, was a way to make it up to her before asking if she wanted to come over so you could thoroughly make it up to her. 
The door swings open and it’s Lisa, clothes wrinkled and hair all over the place. You don’t comment on it because you know something’s going on between her and Jennie, but it wasn’t your place to ask. Instead you ask, “Hey, sorry to bother, but is Rosie in?” 
Lisa smiles, and your face falls, the answer doesn’t need to be said, but she invites you in anyways. 
You don’t know why you just don’t leave, but you enter their apartment, slipping off your shoes while awkwardly holding the flowers. 
“Here, let me take those.” They’re out of your hands before you could respond. “Make yourself at home.”
You’ve been here a handful of times, mostly when there was a party or someone needed a ride home, but it feels off being here. 
Or does it feel that way because she wasn’t here? 
You follow Lisa to the living room, seeing Jennie seated on the couch in the same disheveled appearance. Her eyes widen when she realizes it’s you here, but she doesn’t say anything except for a polite hello. 
Neither of the women say anything, but Lisa prepares the flowers in the vase. You stare at the coffee table, trying to find any words to explain why you’re here. 
“So what brings you here?” Jennie asks a question she knows the answer to. 
“Uh, I thought Rosie would be in,” You answer, scratching the back of your head. You notice the silent exchange between the two, but the sad smile that forms on Jennie’s face says enough. 
“She’s out at the moment,” Jennie bites her lip, thinking of what to say. “She should be back in an hour or so. You’re more than welcome to stay.”
“I probably shouldn’t,” You sigh, realizing just how stupid it was for you to show up. Your thoughts stray that she’s out with Soohyun, but that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 
“She’s having dinner with Soohyun,” Lisa says and you watch Jennie’s eyes narrow, rolling her eyes. 
“Lisa.”
“What? He should know,” The woman shrugs, acting as if it’s not a big deal. 
And it’s not. 
At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself. 
“Rosie can do whatever she likes,” It comes out harsher than you intended, but you’re feeling something that you don’t want to acknowledge. You stand, “I should get going. Uh, you guys can keep those. No need to tell her that’s for her. Sorry they’re not blue Jen,” You add, knowing those are her favorite. 
Jennie gives you a sympathetic smile, shaking her head, “You’re sweet, you know that right?” 
“Sure,” You shrug, walking towards the door. “Sorry to bother you both,” You bow after slipping your shoes on.
“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Jennie asks, meeting you by the door. 
“Yeah, it’s okay. Please don’t tell her,” There’s a fifty-fifty chance Rosie would find out, odds being Lisa telling her where the roses came from. 
“Why not? It’s sweet you brought her flowers.”
“I don’t really have a reason as to why,” You do have a reason, but you’re not sure how much Rosie shares with them. 
Jennie looks like she doesn’t believe you, but she doesn’t press you anymore, nodding. “See you at Mina’s?” 
“Maybe,” You answer vaguely, remembering that you actually have to see your parents this weekend sans the Parks. “I have a business meeting with my parents, so I doubt I’ll make it back in time.” 
“With Chaeng?” Jennie raises an eyebrow. 
“No, just me, so I’ll be in Seong-buk,” You grimace at the thought of having to sit in this, but your father’s adamant it’s good exposure for you. 
“Well I hope you can make it,” Jennie reassures, hugging you briefly before taking a step back. 
“You’ll see me if I do,” You wink. “Thanks again Jen.”
Once the door shuts, you sigh. You couldn’t believe you showed up at Rosie’s place, unannounced. What were you expecting? You’re still not entirely sure, but you’re disappointed nonetheless. It’s almost been two weeks since this arrangement started and you’re scared you’re getting attached. You’ve had longer flings and felt zero attachment to them. 
You question why it feels different, and you toy with the idea of joining Jungkook in Hongdae to remind yourself that you don’t get attached. A wave of guilt passes through you, which you’re torn on what you should do. 
“Fuck it,” You mumble to the empty hallway. 
--
You hear the door knock and pause the show you’ve been sort of watching with Rosie. You’d rather drown in the river than admit you actually like this show. 
You aren’t expecting anyone except the food delivery, so you are surprised when you open the door to see Rosie. 
“Uh hey?” You greet. One look at her and you know she’s upset based on the fire in her eyes. 
“What the fuck,” Rosie spits out. 
Great. Fucking Lisa. 
You aren’t given the chance to ask anything as she barges through the door. You turn around once the door’s shut, and she’s seething. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Why the fuck did you show up at my place?”
“Drop off flowers for Jennie and Lisa,” You answer noncommittally, crossing your arms as you lean against the door. 
“Bullshit. Tell me why,” Rosie steps forward, invading your space. Her perfume makes you dizzy, but you can’t dwell on it too much since she looks like she’s about five seconds away from ripping your head off. 
“What do you want me to say?” You deflect. You didn’t want to get into the reason why—the actual reason—that had you take the train back to yours instead of a club. 
“The fucking truth!” She throws her hands up dramatically, shaking her head. 
“I came over because I wanted to make it up to you for completely knocking out last night, happy?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the door and walking past her. 
“No, I’m not—hey! Get back here, I’m still talking to you,” Rosie’s hand encloses over your wrist. 
The move forces you to turn around, reflexively pulling her into you so that you’re face-to-face. 
“Don’t,” Your voice comes out low. “I’m being honest. Your turn now, why are you here?” 
“Because,” Rosie tries to get out of your grasp, but it’s futile. “As soon as I get home, Lisa fucking singsongs that you dropped by with flowers to see me. Then she told me she mentioned to you that I was out with Soohyun.”
You let go, dropping her hand completely before taking a step back. Hearing his name makes you sick, but you refuse to admit why. 
“How was that?” You ask, tired, because you knew what you signed up for. 
“Do you really want to know?” Rosie crosses her arms, glaring. 
“I don’t, but you’ll tell me anyway.”
“It was good. He’s funny. He’s polite, offered to pay the bill, and walked me to the door,” Each word digs at you, but you don’t let it show. “He wanted to come in to say hello to the girls, but I told him I just wanted to sleep. He asked me out again.”
“And? Is there going to be a second date?” 
“Yes,” Rosie says flatly. 
“Good, happy for you,” You hoped you sounded as detached as possible. “Now you still didn’t answer why you’re here if you ‘just wanted to sleep’?” 
“Because I’ve been fucking frustrated since last night,” Rosie sighs, shaking her head. “I didn’t think I would be, but you fucking fell asleep. I tried dealing with it myself, but that made it worse.” 
All you’re imagining is Rosie, in her bed, touching herself, which has you immediately hard. But you’re a little ticked off at the moment to fully enjoy that imagery.
“Why didn’t you ask Soohyun to help you?” It’s a low blow, but you couldn’t help yourself.
Rosie pushes you, like actually pushes you, with enough force to move. 
“You’re a fucking asshole,” Rosie seethes out, turning to walk out. “I planned on coming over after the dinner for you to take care of the problem you created.”
You’re faster, grabbing her arm to pull her body flush against yours. 
“So you couldn’t cum?” You whisper. 
“Fuck you,” Rosie struggles to get out from your hold, but you have one arm securely wrapped around her waist. 
“I don’t think we’re there yet,” You murmur, “But there is something I still haven’t done.” 
“I’m mad at you,” Rosie ignores your suggestion. 
“If I do what I want to do, I promise you won’t be mad.”
“Doubtful,” Rosie pouts, relaxing into your embrace. 
“I’m sorry,” You mean it.
“I’m still mad,” She huffs, burying her face into your chest. 
“Let me make it up to you,” You tilt her head up, forcing her to look at you. “Please?” 
“Fine. On the condition I sleep over.”
You freeze, vividly remembering the rules you set in place that she wouldn’t sleep over. 
“Our rules?” 
“You broke the first one by coming over without telling me,” She reasons. 
“Do you want to spend the night?” You ask nervously. You hadn’t spent the night with a girl since Nayeon. Every time you had sex, you’d leave before they woke up, or right after. 
“Yes,” Rosie rocks on her tiptoes to kiss you briefly, wrapping her arms around your neck. “It makes things easier for us.” 
“Can I still bring you home in the morning?” You ask shyly, looking away. 
“You better,” Rosie smiles. “I’m still mad though.” 
You roll your eyes, using your strength to pick her up, wrapping her legs around your waist, “I’ll make it up to you.” 
Rosie squeals, hitting your shoulder as you carry her towards your room. “Don’t drop me!” 
You chuckle, shaking your head, as you kick the door open, “You’re fine, trust me.”
You do drop her on the bed and Rosie huffs as she sprawls out on the bed. You take in her appearance—a simple black dress that falls mid-thigh with her hair half-up. She’s beautiful, but you won’t say it out loud—even though you feel like you’ve told her. 
“You’re staring,” Rosie comments, resting on her elbows, a small smile tugging at her lips. 
“Can you blame me?” You drop to your knees, pulling her towards the edge of the bed. “Do you trust me?” You ask softly, locking eyes with her.
“Yes,” And that’s all you need.
— 
You wake up slowly, yawning and stretching. Your arm hits a body, causing you to almost jump when you notice a body’s pressed to your side. You remember that Rosie stayed the night after spending a good amount of time and effort in between her legs. 
She had physically yanked you away from overstimulation, but it was worth it. The sounds she made along with how she tasted was something you wanted to do again. You barely scratched the surface, but you were addicted. 
You had to give her credit because she came three times. You tried to go for a fourth, but she mustered enough strength to kick you away. You wouldn’t let up until she wasn’t mad anymore. By the second orgasm, she wasn’t, but you had to make sure. 
When you were done, cleaning up the mess you made, you kissed her softly as she laid limply on the bed. “Thanks,” She mumbled, sighing contentedly as she played with the hairs on the back of your neck. “I’m not mad at you anymore.” 
“I know,” You smirked, kissing her again before laying your head on the pillow. 
Rosie wanted to return the favor, but you shook your head, embarrassed to share that you were touching yourself while eating her out. She found out anyway because you couldn’t lie to her. It went straight to her head, teasing you that you couldn’t help yourself. She kissed the pout away before falling asleep. 
You check the clock on your nightstand, “Fuck,” You mutter, stirring Rosie awake. 
“What’s wrong?” Rosie’s voice comes out hoarse, slightly turning her body. 
It’s almost noon, and you haven’t finished looking over the reports and proposals your father sent over last night. 
“I’m so sorry,” You sit up, shaking your head in frustration. “I would make you breakfast, but I have to review some things for tonight.” 
“What’s tonight?” You watch her rub her eyes, and you can’t help but think how cute she is. 
“I have a business dinner with my parents.” 
“Oh.”
“Yeah…” You trail off. 
“Do you want me to go with you? I’d just have to stop by my place to change, but I can go,” Rosie offers, turning as she pulls the blanket over her. 
Your heart flutters. If there’s anyone that knows your parents, it’s Rosie. She’s known them since you were kids, seeing just how much pressure was put on you being their only child. It sucked a lot when things changed, but you couldn’t dwell on it that much. You were just trying to appease what they wanted, even though you knew it would never be enough. 
“Alice is home too,” Rosie adds when you don’t respond. “I can just hang out with her until you’re done.” 
“Are you sure?” You didn’t want to impose on her plans for the day. 
“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t,” Rosie sits up, the blanket falling slightly down her body. You glance and remember she was wearing one of your shirts that was a little too big on her. “Mina’s party is later, so we could go after if you need to blow off steam.”
“We’ll see how I feel,” You scoff, knowing exactly how you’d feel after. “But thanks Chaeng, it means a lot.” 
“Eh, I know how they are, so,” Rosie shrugs, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek. She rests her head on your shoulder, laying an arm along your stomach. “I’m sorry it hasn’t gotten any better.” 
“It’s okay,” You say a little too quickly, but she doesn’t press the issue, snuggling deeper into your side. “Thanks,” You mumble. 
“You could always do whatever you want, they’d come around,” Rosie suggests, tracing a finger up and down your abdomen. 
“Yeah, like being a photographer would make enough money for them. They’d see it as a hobby, which it is, not as a career,” You say bitterly, shaking your head at the memory of when you suggested it that one time. 
“Well you could always take pictures of me, and you know, I know people in fashion that could see your portfolio.”
“Chaeng, you’ve done enough for me,” You’re shocked that she’d even offer this. You knew that she had connections, but she worked hard for those. It would feel wrong to actually take her up on it. 
“You’ve also done enough for me,” She pokes your cheek. “Just think about it, the offer’s there.”
You don’t know what to say. You deflect with humor and sarcasm because it’s what you know, especially with her, “Careful, it sounds like you actually like me or something.”
“Oh fuck off,” Rosie slaps your chest, giggling. 
She doesn’t confirm or deny it. You’re left wondering if she ever could. 
--
The car’s silent except for the music Rosie asked—demanded—to play, connecting her phone before you could say yes. You’re on your way back to the city, finished with the business meeting with your parents and some overseas executive who brought his daughter too. 
You were completely blindsided. It was a business meeting disguised as a fucking introduction to a ‘potential’ wife that your parents shamelessly arranged on your behalf. You weren’t that much of an ass to be completely rude to the girl—Kazuha—who also didn’t want to be there. She flat out told you what the meeting was, which you appreciated her honesty.
Nakamura Kazuha was pretty, an innocent air around her that would have you interested if it was under normal circumstances. Your parents coincidentally left you alone for a bit to get to know each other, and she seemed like a great person. She was shy, but polite. She was funny, in a quiet sort of way where you had to be paying attention. 
Kazuha told you she had a boyfriend that she wanted to be with; however, her parents didn’t approve. It was a point of contention because it wasn’t like Satoshi was a bad person, he just didn’t meet the standards they had—in other words, not wealthy.
You shared that same sentiment, explaining your last relationship with Nayeon and how she was a great person, but you knew your parents would never approve. 
“Who was that girl you dropped off?” Kazuha asked once dinner was over. Your parents off to the wine cellar. 
What? 
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Kazuha smiled. “We arrived the same time you did and I saw you walk a girl to the house next door.”
“Oh uh that’s Rosie,” You answered vaguely. 
“She’s pretty. Are you two dating?” 
“What? No, she’s just a friend,” You rushed out, but Kazuha wasn’t dumb. She could tell that you weren’t just friends. 
“Interesting. I don’t know many guys who walk friends to the door, but,” She shrugged, “It’s none of my business. That’s sweet of you though.” 
When you only nodded, she smiled again, moving on to talk about other things. The thought of her observation struck a chord, causing you to dwell on it for the rest of the evening. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” Rosie’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 
“Do you want to hear about it?” 
“I do,” Rosie nods in your periphery. 
You tell her everything. 
How the meeting wasn’t actually business for your parents. How they purposely set you and Kazuha up. How your father tricked you into preparing for something that was already signed. How your mother boldly asked when you and Kazuha would see each other next—when she lived in another country. How you were pissed and irritated and upset. How you were just tired of it. 
“I mean, fuck, at this rate, I might as well just go along with it because every single choice is made for me,” You hit the wheel while stopped at a redlight. 
“Hey,” Rosie coos, reaching for your hand, the tension melting away from your touch. “Don’t say that.”
“Well it’s not like I have any other fucking choice, unless I end up with someone who’s as rich or richer than my family, they’ll never approve. I’m literally setting up my future wife for a lifetime of disapproval. Look at Minjun, his wife hardly even attends family gatherings,” You scoff. 
You saw firsthand how your cousin’s marriage was affected by someone your family deemed ‘not good enough’. You also admired how Minjun stayed with his wife when everyone, even you, said not too because it wasn’t worth the headache. 
Rosie tugs your hand to look at her, a sad smile etched on her face, “Well then you just haven’t met that somebody yet.”
“How can I when I’m literally getting put into arranged marriages at this point?” You sigh, tired from the dinner. 
“You will, I’m sure of it,” She squeezes your hand, interlacing your fingers together. “You’re smart. You’re kind. And don’t let it get to your head, but you are good-looking. Anyone who gets to be with you would be lucky.” 
Your ears burn from her compliments. The comment of your looks does go to your head, but you don’t want to ruin the moment. 
“Thanks,” You mumble shyly, looking away as you start driving. 
“Are we going to Mina’s?” Rosie asks, keeping your hand on her lap. 
The use of we has you confused. 
“Uh, I was just going to drop you off and stay in. I don’t feel very social anymore. I’m still worked up,” You roll your eyes, turning right onto Mina’s street. 
Rosie squeezes your hand, her thumb rubbing your skin, “Are you sure? It could help you get your mind off things.”
“The only thing that would get my mind off anything is I fuck someone,” You say crassly. 
“I’m right here,” Rosie lets go of your hand, huffing.
“Yeah but I have a bit of aggression at the moment. I can’t exactly take you roughly,” You pull up to the curb, a few houses down from Mina’s. 
“And why not?” Rosie unbuckles her seat belt, crossing her legs on the seat to face you. 
“You think really low of me if I’d have your first time be like that,” You reason, rolling your shoulders as you shut the car off. 
Could you imagine taking Rosie roughly? Absolutely. You know how flexible she is, and you could have fun with her body if she gives you enough time with her. You wanted to prolong this arrangement because time’s running out. You weren’t sure if it would be a one and done type of thing, but you didn’t want to ask. 
“I don’t,” Rosie scoffs, leaning forward to kiss you softly on the cheek. “But I hope we’ll get there.” 
The kiss sends a shiver down your spine, melting into the car seat. You turn to kiss her on the lips, a simple peck that she deepens, pulling you into her that has your body on fire. 
“Can I convince you to stay?” Rosie murmurs, sneaking a hand to your slacks. She palms you through the fabric, causing you to groan against her lips. “I think I can.” Her hand deftly lowers the zipper. 
“Chaeng,” You tear away your lips, head falling back on the headrest as you watch her take your cock out. 
“Yeah?” Rosie moves over the center console, dropping her head. 
“We’re in public,” Your voice comes out hoarse as her head goes lower, tongue slipping out to lick your tip. 
“It’s dark,” Rosie kisses your cock, “Better be quick then.”
In a swift move, Rosie’s mouth encloses over you and you’re a goner. 
--
You laugh at the nonsense Jungkook says in an attempt to distract the pair across the table from missing the shot. It works, and you’re one cup away from winning again.
You feel lighter than you did an hour ago. All thanks to the woman who happens to be sitting very closely to the man she’s interested in. Although, you’re trying your best not to dwell on the sinking feeling in your stomach every time you glance her way. 
“Dude you got it,” You nod to Jungkook who’s a bit drunk, but he swears his coordination gets better the more he drinks. 
Your best friend smirks, winking at the other team before smoothly tossing the ball and it falling perfectly into the lone cup. 
“And that’s game,” Jungkook puffs his chest out while the other two roll their eyes. “Who’s next?” 
“Take Yoongi for this round, I need some air,” You say without waiting for his response. You walk off to the kitchen, grabbing a beer before you make your way to the backyard. 
A few people stop you, mostly girls, asking what you’re doing after. You give a noncommittal answer because you would like to leave with Rosie, but the odds of that happening are low. 
The cool air hits your lungs and you let out a breath. A much needed one with the amount of people that are inside. There’s a few people, but they’re all in their own conversations, not paying you any mind. 
You find an unoccupied couch, deciding to sit alone before Jungkook finds you. You’re not drunk, but you’re not sober either. You’re in that limbo of a few more drinks might put you over the edge. 
Your mind vividly replays Rosie ‘convincing’ you to stay. She didn’t need to do much to get you to cum, but she did well to get you there in less than five minutes. You were almost tempted to say fuck the party and head back to yours, but after she swallowed you for all you had to give, she patted your head and said it was time to go inside. 
“Can I sit with you?” A voice immediately brings you out of your thoughts, your gaze falling on your ex-girlfriend. 
“Sure,” You scoot over, making some room on the couch. 
You take a sip of your beer, letting the bitter liquid sit in your mouth as you gather your thoughts. It wasn’t that it was hard to be around Nayeon, it was just awkward. You two were cordial, and you knew–thanks to Sana–that she wanted to get back together. You tried avoiding her, but running in the same social circle made it difficult. 
“How’s your night?” Nayeon asks after a few minutes. 
“It’s good,” You answer politely. “How about yours?” 
“Same.”
The noise from the house fills the silence when neither of you say anything else. 
You were with Nayeon for almost two years, and there was never a lull in the conversation. She would either be asking you a million questions or she would be telling you about her day in great detail. You tried to be friends with her after you broke up, but you didn’t think it was worth it. 
“How are you and Chaeyoung?” Nayeon asks nonchalantly that you pause mid-sip. 
“What’s there to know?” You finish your beer, placing the glass bottle on the table. 
Nayeon shrugs, sipping her wine, “I saw you two walk in together.” 
“We had dinner with our parents,” You lie, but it was more a half-lie since you actually did have dinner with your parents, just separately. 
Nayeon makes a humming sound before saying, “Your relationship with her was always interesting to me.” When you don’t ask what she means–she’ll tell you anyways–she continues, “I knew you two quote unquote hated each other, but regardless of that, there was always something that made me think you, or her, might’ve had feelings.” 
“What the fuck are you talking about, Nayeon?” You sigh. The way this conversation was going instantly killed your mood. 
“It’s hard to explain,” Nayeon shrugs, taking another sip. “But she likes Soohyun right? Or they’ve gone out together.” 
“I don’t know who Rosie likes, and it’s honestly none of my business,” You were getting irritated, especially since his name was now in the conversation. 
“I’m not saying it is your business, but all I’m saying is to be careful. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 
“That’s rich coming from you,” You snap. “You literally fucking cheated on me over an argument.” 
“You don’t think I regret that?” Nayeon’s voice cracks. “I’ve regretted that ever since.” 
“It’s too fucking late for that Nayeon, I don’t want to hear it,” You stand, blood boiling. “I’m fucking over this.” 
First the dinner with your parents, now this. You didn’t want to rehash the past with Nayeon. It was over. You got cheated on by a girl who was your first serious relationship, someone you loved, and thought about a future with. Then said-girl was telling you to be careful with Rosie, of all people. 
You knew what you were doing with Rosie, but for Nayeon to say what she said struck a chord.
Why? 
That was something you weren’t ready to admit. 
You walk away from Nayeon, leaving her alone. As soon as you enter the house, Jungkook calls you over, but you beeline for the front door without a second glance at Rosie. 
(But if you did, you would’ve seen her stand up from her seat next to Soohyun.) 
“Hey!” Rosie calls out to you. You don’t turn around, your pace picks up. “Hey, what the fuck happened?” Her hand encloses around your wrist, stopping you as soon as you reach your car. 
“Nothing,” You pull your hand away, jaw clenching as you try to compose yourself. 
“That’s a fucking lie.” 
You turn around, eyes glaring to the same expression, “Just let me be. I don’t want to deal with anyone else tonight.” 
“Too fucking bad, I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what happened,” Rosie crosses her arms. “I also have your fucking keys dumbass.” 
Fuck. 
“Give them to me,” You reach around her, knowing she put it in her back pocket, but she was faster. She took the keys out of her pocket, holding it up in front of your face. “Chaeng.” 
“You’re not fucking driving in this state. You’ve been drinking and you’re obviously pissed for whatever reason. I’m calling us a car and we’ll get yours in the morning. Don’t fucking fight with me about this,” Rosie glares, raising her chin defiantly. 
“Fine,” You roll your eyes, leaning against your car. 
You watch Rosie pull her phone out, calling a car or whatever. The alcohol was catching up to you. You close your eyes, trying to calm your nerves because you were still pissed off. You shouldn’t have taken it out on Rosie, but you weren’t expecting to see her for the rest of the night. 
You feel arms wrap around your back, Rosie’s perfume suddenly invading your senses, as she rests her head on your chest. 
“Let’s just sleep tonight okay?” Rosie whispers against your chest. “You’ve had a long day.” 
“I’m sorry,” You mumble, realizing your mistake. 
“Don’t be,” Rosie’s hand finds its way underneath your shirt, soothingly rubbing your lower back. 
“What about Soohyun?” You ask, doing your best to not sound like you were watching her. 
“He’s not relevant right now,” Rosie says softly, looping her fingers through your belt loop. “I’ll talk to him this weekend.” 
It annoys you a little bit, but you can’t help but think you’ve won some non-existent, one-sided competition with Soohyun. Rosie’s leaving with you and not him. 
You’re treading a thin line, crossing into dangerous territory. You’re hoping that once you have sex, all these feelings and thoughts that have been plaguing your mind will vanish. 
Because getting involved with Rosie was never on your mind. 
--
--
--
(It was way too long to fit in one post -_-)
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cloudybarnes · 8 months
Text
Pretty Boy
Pairing: Harry Potter x reader
Summary: everyone knew you had a thing for the boy who lived, everyone, that is, except for Harry himself.
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: Harry is so soft in this it's insane so take this as your warning
Masterlist
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✰  ✰  ✰
It wasn't like you were hiding anything.
You prided yourself in being very direct, and very much a go-getter. After transferring from Beauxbatons, you made quick friends at Hogwarts, even with Harry, Hermione, and Ron.
With Harry, you very quickly became fond of the quirky things he would say, and how flustered he would get when you were around.
Some people called you a flirt, but you liked to think you were just really clear about what you wanted.
Him.
You just weren't sure if he felt the same way about you.
"So, (Y/N)." Hermione said as you, her, Harry and Ron walked out of potions class. "Did you want to study for the exam with us? I figure I could use as much help to make sure these two know what they're doing."
"Hey!" Ron complained, "I happen to be smart sometimes too, Hermione. You're not the only one with a brain."
"You're right, Ron." Hermione said. "(Y/N) has a brain as well, that's why I've asked her to come study with us."
Ron rolled his eyes with a grumble.
"I think that'd be nice," Harry softly said.
You grinned. "Well if Harry wants me there, of course I'm down."
His cheeks turned pink as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Ron snickered and playfully elbowed Harry a couple of times. Harry swatted him away; the pink on his cheeks growing a darker shade.
Harry sheepishly smiled at you. "O-of course I want you there!" He stuttered.
You smirked at him. "Don't worry, pretty boy, I promise I'll be there."
Harry's mouth fell open slightly, as Ron started laughing. "Harry, close your mouth for Merlin's sake!" Ron teased Harry by pointing at his parted lips.
Harry swatted Ron's hands away from his face with a scowl. "Shut up, Ron," he muttered.
You laughed. "I'm just gonna catch up to you guys later. Bye, Harry." You sent a wink in his direction as you walked away. Ron's cackling laugh boomed through the hallway as you left.
✰  ✰  ✰
"Hey, (Y/N)!"
You had started walking down the hallways to get to the Gryffindor study hall where you were supposed to meet up with the golden trio when Luna stopped you.
"Hey, Luna!" You smiled as she walked towards you. "Where were you today? I didn't see you in herbology today."
Luna had been one of your closest friends outside of Hermione, Ron, and Harry. She was fun to talk to, and pretty much knew everything about you already and vice versa.
"Yeah," she smiled, "I was off in the woods taking a walk. It's very nice out there this time of year, you know that?"
You nodded, "oh yeah, it really is."
"So where are you heading off to?"
"Hermione invited me to help them study for the potions exam we've got coming up."
"Oh!" She grinned, "will Harry be there?"
You giggled, "he will be there. Did I tell you he specifically said he wanted me to come with them! I just about died, Luna, like my heart was fluttering like crazy."
Luna chuckled, "You guys need to get together already! Unless you're keeping it a secret from me," Luna squinted her eyes at you playfully.
You laughed. "No, we're not dating. Not yet at least." You winked at her.
"Ahem," a throat cleared behind you.
Turning around, you saw Harry standing there, a bewildered look on his face, and a red burning in his cheeks.
"Um," he stuttered, "I didn't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to make sure you were still coming to the study hall."
Slowly, you turned back to Luna who gave you a sorry smile.
"Well," she said, "I'm going to leave you two alone. I'll see you later, (Y/N/N)." With that, she walked away, leaving you alone with the boy who basically just heard you telling Luna you wanted to date him.
You looked back to Harry with a soft smile. Even though you laid your flirting on so thick with Harry, that wasn't as scary as this. Flirting was innocent. If he didn't reciprocate your feelings, you could always act like you were just messing around.
Now, though, it was the real deal. Even if you looked composed on the outside, you were freaking out quite a bit on the inside.
"Yeah, I'll be there." You smiled, "I'd never ditch my favorite boy."
Harry choked on a gasp.
"You okay?" You asked, stepping a little closer to him.
Harry gazed up at you with confusion, but also intrigue.
"What are you doing?" He asked softly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean like-like with me? Why do you say things like that to me?"
Instinctively, you took a step back. "I'm sorry? I didn't know you felt some type of way about how I acted." You felt horrible. Maybe you had done a little too much. Maybe you had flirted too hard and too blatantly that it scared him off.
"No!" He practically shouted. "No, I mean, ahem, I mean I don't feel any type of way about it. I mean, yeah I feel some type of way, but not like- not like a bad way, if that makes sense. I mean more like in a good way, you know? But also, like in a confused way. I'm not sure, I mean, I like when you say things like that to me, but it's also confusing because why would you say things like that to me?" Harry rambled on.
You couldn't help but chuckle a little.
He looked up at you when you laughed, and gave you a sheepish smile. "Too much?" He asked.
You shook your head with a smile. "No, just enough. So you don't think I come off too strong when I flirt with you?"
Harry grinned. "So you are flirting with me!"
You chuckled, "I would hope you consider that flirting. I'm not sure if you know this, but I don't go around calling too many people 'pretty boy' or 'my favorite boy'."
He blushed. "Yeah, that's what Ron said, but I didn't believe him. I just can't believe out of all the guys that like you, you like me instead."
You smiled, "So Ron told you I liked you?"
"Well, he may have mentioned it a time or two or twenty," he chuckled, "I just didn't believe him."
"How could I not like you? You're Harry, you're incredibly sweet, and selfless, and so much more. Anyone with eyes would like you, Harry."
His face turned ten shades of red. "That's how I feel about you, too, (Y/N). But with you, it's just obvious everyone loves you. You walk in a room and every single head turns. You laugh, and the birds start singing. You smile, and the sun quivers from how bright you light the place up."
With every word coming from Harry's lips, you found yourself more and more drawn to him. Your heart beat erratically.
"I didn't realize you thought so highly of me." It was your turn to blush now. You could feel your face getting incredibly hot by the sweet words he spoke. You never thought Harry would like you back, especially not as intensely as he's describing. Frankly, you didn't know he had such a way with words.
"I think you're incredible, (Y/N), and if you would let me, I'd like to take on a-a date sometime?" He suggested.
You grinned at him and grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'd love to, Harry."
He grinned, and held on tight to your hand.
For a minute there, the two of you just stared at each other, smiling. You started to giggle. "As much as I would love to stay here like this, we promised Hermione we would study with her and Ron."
"Oh yeah, I forgot about that." Harry admitted, sheepishly.
You chuckled, "come on, let's not keep them waiting, pretty boy."
Harry grinned. "I like that nickname."
"I like you."
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acowardinmordor · 6 months
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You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six
Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.
Part One .... Part Four - Part Five
---
“Rob, no.”
“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”
“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”
“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”
“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 
“I’ll figure it out on the way!”
She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 
It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 
That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 
She touched his arm.
And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 
Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 
“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”
“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”
“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 
“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”
“It’s not his fault.”
“He said it was his fault!”
Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.
“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”
“No! And why are you working?”
Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”
“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”
“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 
“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 
Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 
“Steve.”
“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 
“Why does he get special treatment?”
Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 
“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”
Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 
“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”
Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”
“And that doesn’t make you friends?”
“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 
The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 
He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 
“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”
“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”
She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 
“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”
“Ugh, I hate you.”
“Love you too, Robs.”
He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 
The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 
If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 
Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 
Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  
Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 
“Did, uh, did you say something?”
Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 
“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”
“Birdie, you don’t--” 
“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”
“Got it,” he smiled.
And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 
***
Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.
Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 
“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 
Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.
“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”
He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 
Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.
Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 
Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 
Eddie was still standing there. 
“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.
Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”
It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 
“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”
Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 
“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 
“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 
Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 
***
Steve didn’t open it. 
He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 
If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 
“Do you have…?”
“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 
Eddie nodded. 
Eddie left. 
***
Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 
Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 
She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 
When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 
***
Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.
“No.”
“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 
“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”
Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 
“No?” he asked instead.
Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 
“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.
“Steve?”
“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”
“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”
Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 
Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 
Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 
“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.
“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 
“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”
The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 
---------------
We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.
Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.
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targaryenluvs · 5 months
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Hi, how are you? Could you make a request for Anthony Bridgerton 🙈 please.
I was thinking something along the lines of Penelope and Colin. When Colin says he would never court Penelope. But in this case Anthony tells Benedict that he would never court reader. And Benedict tells him that he will be the one to woo her. Sad ending or happy ending. I leave it in your hands 🤗✨.
Have a good week ✨ thank you.
i love this, and benedict bridgerton <3
nothing better
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader, anthony bridgerton x fem!reader (platonic)
summary: benedict has loved you for so long, but he always assumed you’d want anthony and he wanted you. but when the opportunity presents itself to be with you he dives headfirst.
warnings: swearing, kisses??
a/n: hope you like itttt, it might be a little short but quality over quantity???: i love benedict ugh can’t wait for his season
the party was insufferable.
benedict wanted nothing more than to be at home, drawing, you specifically.
the day you learned of his talent you’d praised him every day for it. and you’d been pestering him for oh so long to draw your portrait but he always politely declined. believing a professional to be more accurate than himself but he honestly believed that he, nor any other, could incorporate all of your beauty in one sketch.
and he was scared of messing it up, and he also wondered what his brother would think.
anthony. smart, handsome, eligible, viscount anthony bridgerton.
the one you’d marry.
or so it seemed to everyone as the two of you danced hand in hand. everyone’s eyes were on the two of you as you practically glided across the floor. as the music slowed and the couples dispersed he found himself holding his breath as you came towards him.
“anthony is terrible to dance with, he keeps blaming me for stepping on his feet but he moves so slow at times, he’s always looking off into the distance.” you laughed as benedict smiled, “i promise you y/n, a dance with me will leave you more than well satisfied.” benedict teased as you gasped, “benedict bridgerton! the scandalous man you are.” as you laughed he couldn’t help but admire you. your hair was up with only two strands in the front, curled. a sweet tiara in the middle of your head, a gorgeous baby pink dress and and equally gorgeous owner.
“you look-”
“like a cake? a biscuit? a rose perhaps?” you joked.
“i was going to say breathtaking. you look, breathtaking, y/n. no one else here can compare.” he spoke in awe.
your eyes flickered to his, god he looked amazing. but he was probably only saying this to be nice right? his sisters friend, daphnes other half. nothing more, he grew up with you, saw you as a sister.
he wondered if you’d return the compliment, or thank him, or just smile and nod. god he said wanted more than a nod. you looked untouchable. and the way you looked at him, benedict was lost. not only in your eyes but in his head and heart. he sees you dance and talk to numerous respectable men every day. you smile and laugh, completely polite. but then you look at him, with those beautiful brown eyes and he looses all trains of thought. and as respectful as those other men are, he could never put himself in the same category as them.
because the thoughts that he didn’t loose, were truly inappropriate.
the heavy footsteps from behind you snapped the two of you out of the trance as anthony approached. “brother, lady y/n.” he smiled as you smiled back. “i’ll leave you two be.”
“are you alright brother?”
he didn’t mean to snap. the words just spilled out.
“are you going to court her or not?”
anthony’s brows furrowed as he was taken aback by his brothers direct manner, all sense of the usual playfulness was lost. “who? y/n? no of course not. i would never dream of courting y/n l/n. she’s like a sister to me.”
“then why do you dance with her so? take her out so often, promenade with her? for what? my god everyone thinks the two you are courting.” anthony released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
he’d only been having fun with a friend. it was so refreshing to be able to talk to someone who didn’t wonder what the viscount was up to, who he was with, when he was going to marry. y/n eased his tensions and she the best friend he’d never had, she made him feel like a young boy again, which anthony had all but forgotten the feeling of.
“benedict, it was not my intention this i promise you brother. i know how much you love and if i led you or anyone else to believe our relationship was anything besides familial love and companionship than i truly apologise. you need to let her know before it’s too late.”
benedict felt his heart lurch at the idea of finally being with you. and with anthony’s blessing and urging him along he was off to find you.
the air was cold, but anything was better than that stuffy ballroom inside. gods you couldn’t wait for the season to be over. it was only your first, same as the diamond of the season, also known as your best friend daphne bridgerton but all the cakes, gossip, drama and fake smiles? you’d had enough to last forever. the only problem with the season being over was that you’d most likely be travelling to your country estate. which meant that you’d be spending time with your extended family rather than the family besides your own that you wanted to be with.
the person you wanted to be with.
“y/n! there you are.” benedict shouted as he bent over, catching his breath. even slightly sweaty and disheveled benedict was a god in your eyes, no one inside could even come close.
“ben, come sit!” you patted the swing next to you as he gladly sat down, the air was a refreshing after the long night he’d had, and your smiling face was enough for his heart to race again.
“y/n, as much as i’d like to sit and swing with you i have to tell you something, it’s urgent.” he spoke softly. the moon was bright, the air cold and benedict had a soft glow of light on his right side. his voice could so easily lull you to sleep out here as it had done so many times before but his eyes were alert, so you smiled again and nodded, “continue.”
“y/n, i’ve known you for so long. and i’ve- i’ve never been able to tell you how i truly feel about you. i always thought anthony had your eye and”
“anthony?!” you screeched as benedict hushed you with a hand over your mouth. “sweetheart you can’t be so loud out here, wouldn’t want someone to come across us now would we?” he joked as his eyes crinkled at the edges, now there’s the benedict you knew. “ben, i’ve never had romantic feelings for anthony, hes always been a brother to me. besides i’ve had my eye on another bridgerton for a long time.”
“oh? and who could that be?” benedict was praying to every god he could conjure in his head. me. me. me. let it be me please.
“you.”
he couldn’t help himself as he kissed you, he’d waited far too long for it.
and it was so worth it.
everything he couldn’t even begin to express with words, he put into the kiss, your first of many. “i love you. i love you y/n l/n and i can only pray you love me a quarter as much. you are everything i’ve ever wanted, and i have you now. you were family before but now? youre officially a bridgerton, we should throw a parade.” benedict laughed as you smacked his arm, “finally! my plan to marry daphne has been thrown into motion!”
“excuse me?” daphne shouted as yourself and benedict leaned into eachother, laughing up a storm.
there was nothing that could compare to the man infront of you.
nothing better.
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ddejavvu · 9 months
Note
hey mei, if you feel like doing it i'd love to see poly!marauders fighting over who gets a turn in bed with reader next, if not no worries! love u!
love you too!
this post is 18+, minors dni.
"No, Prongs, you got last Thursday after practice. I specifically remember because I tried telling you to shower first, so that she wasn't getting a face full of your sweat." Remus narrows his eyes at James, who scoffs indignantly.
"Yeah, you told me to shower so I didn't stink, and I did! And while I was in the bathroom, you swooped in a tired her out!"
"That is not true," Remus snaps, "I went to the library! You're thinking of Tuesday, which was before Thursday, when your turn was, which means that I get the next turn."
"Mate, I'm telling you," James huffs, and Sirius plants his face into your shoulder with an overexaggerated snore, "I didn't get a go last week at all!"
"Well now you're being ridiculous," Remus gripes, "You have your face stuffed between her thighs practically every night, Potter. If you're gonna lie do it more convincingly."
"But this week's been busy and I haven't got the chance!" James insists, "Moony, Sirius might give into everything you want, but I'm not budging. It's my turn."
"Pair of charmers, aren't they?" Sirius drawls, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he murmurs by your ear.
"Mhm," You hum, and tense as his hand creeps up your thigh beneath your comforter, "Siri-"
"Shh," He quiets you, "They're gonna be bickering for a while. Why not enjoy ourselves?"
"They'll be jealous," You lament, but you don't push his hand away when it dips below the waistband of your pajama shorts, "Sirius, if we get caught-"
"Don't get us caught then, darling." He purrs, mouthing at the sensitive skin on your neck just below your ear. He leaves a sticky kiss there, trailing them down towards your collarbones as the first of his fingers ghosts down your slit, sending shivers up your spine, "If you're nice and quiet, they'll never know."
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