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#infamous cog
djsxm · 9 months
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The only sane person on that damn bus! Another @infamous-if meme. We all know it's gonna get worse.😭
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mt07131 · 9 months
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The collaborations of the summer are here! Under the banner of Reject Saints, enjoy a new imagining on your rock favorites with Tell All Your Friends
Had the idea this morning, so imagine a cover album with all of your favorite @infamous-if MCs
Credits below the cut
Spotify template by @uservalerian
Remi belongs to @quinnorion
Hayden (Adonis) and Diandra belong to @djsxm
Noire (Syreni) and Zuri belong to @gldnhrtd
Arabella belongs to @mr-darcysgf
Zeynel belongs to @stubbornaries
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anxietytwist · 1 year
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𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨
[ 𝟸𝟽 | 𝟻'𝟼" | Nonbinary | Bi Demi | 💗𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 ]
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ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Grunge Rock
ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ ᴠɪʙᴇꜱ:
#𝟷 ꜱᴏɴɢ: “𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑆𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑀𝑒” 🎼
ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇ: Introspective song about escaping abuse
❝You won't find me in the shadows, I'm soaring high above the trees. My wings cannot be clipped, my heart's forever free. I'm no longer in your prison, nor your shadowed dark domain. So don't you dare fucking search for me, I've escaped your gilded cage.❞
𝟷ˢᵗ ᴇᴘ: “𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟”
ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ɴᴀᴍᴇ: “𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑂𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑”
ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏꜱʜᴏᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇ: 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭
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✮ 𝑭𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒐𝒏 ✮
​ᴏɴ-ꜱᴛᴀɢᴇ:
“𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒚” w/ heavy makeup (they love fishnets & platform shoes)
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​ᴏꜰꜰ-ꜱᴛᴀɢᴇ:
“𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒂𝒍” w/ no makeup (generally just jeans/sweatpants & a t-shirt)
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ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ:
“𝑭𝒖𝒏” w/ 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 makeup (despite hating parties they always make the effort to at least look good™ while attending)
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✮ 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒂 ✮
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✮ 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✮
ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ɪɴꜱᴘᴏ➠ 𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘓𝘖𝘞 ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ➠ They/Them ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴛʏᴘᴇ➠ 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘺 ᴘɪᴇʀᴄɪɴɢꜱ➠ Ears (🆁/🅻), 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦, & 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯 ᴘʀᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʀɪᴛᴜᴀʟ➠ Vocal warm-ups (while juggling) ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ-ᴄʜᴀᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ➠ “Ride OR Dies”
💔ꜰ!𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
✮ 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 is NOT a morning person 😴
✮ They had top-surgery (𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯) & officially changed their legal name to “𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞” when they were 𝟸𝟸 🏳️‍⚧️
✮ Their MAIN goal is to share their art with the world; fame & money are just a nice bonus to them 💸
✮ 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 has a 𝟼-year-old rescue cat named “𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞” (they adopted her AFTER their breakup with 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧) 💕🐈
✮ They were quite timid in high school, but being in the band helped build up their confidence (+ not be self-conscious about their appearance) 😤
✮ It's difficult to anger 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞; they prefer to resolve issues with calm words (+ processing/expressing their “anger” through writing music), but like any other person they DO have a limit, & once it's reached they DON'T HOLD ANYTHING BACK 🤬
✮ Their parents' general absence in their life has left them feeling nothing but resentment towards them 😒 (their mom & dad are genuinely the ONLY people who can easily get a rise out of them), so they moved out at 𝟷𝟾; they've been living on their own in an apartment they rent (initially with the support of 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 & her mum)
✮ 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 tried their best to keep 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 IN the band (they voted to keep their vocals a duet + begged the others to apologize to 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 after she left) ... but the band IS a democracy & majority rules even if they weren't happy about it 🥲
✮ Their tattoos incorporate/are on the parts of their arms & legs that lost pigment; so it looks like they're peeking out from under their pigmented skin (their 𝟷ˢᵗ tattoo was the matching set with 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝕊𝔻 ... they always keep it hidden), the most recent tattoo they've gotten is of 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙮'𝙨 𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘰 🍒
✮ 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 has never been good at accepting compliments/praise, it always leaves them flustered & embarrassed 😳
✮ When faced with 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐬 ire they tend to revert to a passive/agreeable disposition ... they REALLY don't like fighting with her (especially since she has a tendency to say mean things JUST for the sake of hurting them), so they always do their best to completely avoid her/stay out of her way (which made them hide behind a vase & ditch the 𝘽𝙊𝙏𝘽 afterparty ... being stuck on a tour-bus with her will be FUN 🙃)
✮ Despite the breakup, 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 just can't stop themselves from supporting 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ... even if they'll never be “friends” again (+ they're a secret fan of 𝙎𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙑𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 ... & even own some of their merch) 🤫🫀
✮ Due to their vitiligo, portions of their hair, eyelashes, & eyebrows have 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 & turned grey/white 🤍👁🤍
✮ 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 wears 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 while performing & 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 whenever they're at home/relaxing (their 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴 are directly related to their vitiligo) 😎
✮ They tend to get carried away by their emotions when signing, performing as if they're baring their whole soul to the audience (performing is really the ONLY time they're completely open & allow themselves to express any pent-up “volatile” emotions) 🗯️
✮ Post-breakup 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 (it used to be down to their 𝘮𝘪𝘥-𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬) ... most of the pics on their “personal” 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺 are pre-breakup (they took a social media break shortly after 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 left them the band), so all their selfies & candid pictures show them with long hair still 📸
✮ Only a select few people get to see what's written inside of their songwriting journal(s), they're especially protective of the journal they wrote in during their “post-breakup” hospital stay (there are A LOT of dark thoughts locked in there, most of which NEVER saw the light of day in a song) 📓
✮ 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 enjoys spending most of their free time gaming (they even have a whole PC setup at their apartment) 🖥️
✮ They are NOT a fan of parties, they'd prefer to hang out with close friends somewhere they're already familiar with (the only “good parties” are ones they're performing at) 😵‍💫
✮ 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 is able to play just enough piano (& use electronic “music softwear”) to record raw demos of their songs before handing it over to the other band members & letting them freely make edits 🎹
✮ They're NOT shy when it comes to flirting with someone they find attractive, though they'll only overtly do so AFTER the other person has shown some interest in them 𝟷ˢᵗ 😘
✮ 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞'𝐬 on-stage persona & off-stage personality are polar opposites: they're content to just blend into the background whenever they're not performing (they very much lean towards being an introvert 😓)
✮ They DON'T drink alcohol anymore after going on a week-long bender when their relationship with 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ended (i.e. after they saw her purposefully going out with someone else); it led to them spending a month hospitalized due to almost fatal alcohol poisoning (now they're the “designated driver” of their friend group) ... they did slip-up & drank some at the 𝗕𝗢𝗧𝗕 party though (a positive stress dump + the anxiety of seeing 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 in-person again made it hard them to try to “enjoy themselves” ... too bad drinking didn't even help in the end) 🍹🤢
✮ Because of their early childhood isolation & emotional neglect, 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 finds it difficult to innately set/understand boundaries when entering new interpersonal relationships 🤔
✮ They HATE peanuts (not cause of allergies, they just find peanuts disgusting) 🥜
✮ 𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 always wondered what it would've been like to not be an only child, & though NEVER tell him, their relationship with 𝐎𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 is what they hoped having an older brother would' feel 've been like 🥺
✮ ...
𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 means “𝘊𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 & 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥” (Old French) 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨 means “𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦” (Italian)
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𝐼𝐹: @infamous-if
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Picrew used:
✮ 𝑶𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒚𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒔 ✮
Week 𝟷 ⁃ “𝐵𝑎𝑑 𝑆𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛”
❝Artistry withered, hope fading away; for the price of lying, what hell would we pay? Truth is the weapon we clasp in our hands; fearless and bold, we'll make a final stand. We'll never compromise, never take the easy way; Chokecherry is here & we're planning to stay.❞
Unfinished Demo ⁃ “...”
❝Yearning for your touch; longing for your embrace. Even though you're out of reach, I can't escape this endless chase.❞
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infamous-if · 9 months
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✮ CH. 2 PART I ✮ 92k (+86k) -> 178k ✮
PLAY CHAPTER 2: PART I
It's here! First, sorry for the long wait. Chapter 2 has proven to be a behemoth, and I'd gotten sick this past week, my computer broke, my documents went kaput and I had to do some Frankensteining for the last few pages of this part. I'm not too worried, as Part II update can help smooth out all the kinks. I will definitely be looking for beta testers once chapter 2 is complete ha
Anywho! Enough about my problems. This demo update adds 86k words (86, 818 to be exact) and is the first part of a two part chapter. Which means the narrative in this chapter is not complete, but I kind of closed it off at a pretty satisfying place. As with every Infamous chapter, this is very character driven. So have fun!
What to expect in Chapter Two PART I:
get on the bus & deal with the consequences of your actions lol
arrive to your first tour stop and do your first gig...which might get messy (both literally and figuratively)
hang with a familiar father and daughter duo
have some heart to hearts/ some cheeky little POV passages
meet more BOTB crew and learn exactly what's in store for you this season
get roped in some ValenReign mess !
Maintenance:
this chapter has a lot of flavor text, or at least, more than the demo did, so if there are any errors or if there are lines that don't correspond with your choices, please let me know so i can fix that!
you will no longer be forced to write your own lyrics and the update will offer you pre-written lyrics by yours truly. im not t swift so i would advise you not to expect professional level songwriting, but they work well enough lolol
lyrics page is up as well as stats, but i don't really like the system i used to balance it, mostly because new...stat things will be added as the story goes on, so that's still getting reworked. still, good enough for now, as there are some personality stat checks!
Prologue and Chapter 1 errors/typos/grammatical bits fixed. (Wouldn't be surprised if I missed some though...) + variables updated.
Scenes not showing up fixed. hopefully, that huge error in which it throws you back to the fight after returning to the house is fixed (It was a bit wonky for me, hopefully it works for everyone else)
Stat and relationship pages updated ( + lyric page to look back at all your lyrics).
Can choose to be asexual and any sexual scenes will be skipped or replaced with romantic scenes. Flavor text in which MC displays any sort of sexual desire will be skipped. (This option comes up during Dakota's party scene. If not, it will show up when it presents itself again.) (Nothing sexual has come up yet, but if there are any scenes or even lines/ internal thoughts that should be skipped or changed for Asexual MCs, please let me know!)
If there are errors or anything, im always open. I've play tested but you girl is always prone to errors. As always, thank you for your love and enthusiasm! It makes me really happy and motivates me to keep writing ! <3
(Also, if you're thinking "omg amy how did you go from 65k to 86k?!" i don't want to talk about it /j)
See you on tour!
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supercvt · 1 year
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EVANGELINE TAYLOR
had to start my mc collection with the coolest mc i've ever created, aka Evangeline Taylor, lead singer of Darling Venom (yes i did steal the name of the band from a book that i didn't read; it just sounded cool)
if: @infamous-if <3
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dragomer · 5 months
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I tried to get into Infamous but the pronouns were too annoying
Oh yeah, pronoun nonsense is a plague upon IFs / COGs for some reason.
And you've seen nothing, Infamous is a really tame exemple, the Hero Rise and Versus series are straight up impossible to read for non-native speaker and native english speakers not into pronoun nonsense probably don't fare much better.
At least it lead to some funny stuff like seeing the fear in an author's eyes when you ask them to describe their 'non-binary' characters.
Thanks for the ask ^⁠^
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zombieparadeimpulses · 9 months
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Nic Slick x Seven Lawless playlist
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Passive - A Perfect Circle;
Songs I Can't Listen To - Neon Trees;
Until It Doesn't Hurt - Mother Mother;
26 - Paramore;
Ghosts (How Can I Move On) - Muse;
Save Yourself - Kaleo;
Particles - Nothing but Thieves;
Falling in Love (Will Kill You) - Wrongchilde ft. Gerard Way;
Bonus track:
Obsessed With You - The Orion Experience;
Hope you like that news article layout it took me a while. This is for my @infamous-if OC Nico Jackson, who's definitely a people pleaser & not over his ex.
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dewdropdinosaur · 30 days
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Fixer Upper
ALASTOR x (F)READER
Summary: Someone dared to break Alastor's precious radio and his wrath is inconsolable. But turns out you may have some small tricks up your sleeve.
Warnings: NONE
For the dearest @anon-of-the-void. My darling, it is a pleasure as always to write these for you.
In the bustling chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the fiery chaos of Hell, an unlikely friendship blossomed. Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, found solace in the presence of Y/N, an inventive soul from the Victorian Era who had found herself amidst the peculiar denizens of the underworld.
Y/N was a tinkerer, always tinkering away in her workshop, concocting gadgets and gizmos that would make even the most adept engineers marvel. Alastor, with his vintage charm and macabre wit, found her creations fascinating, and the two formed an unusual bond over their shared love for innovation.
One fateful day, disaster struck when Alastor's beloved old-time radio, his prized possession from his living days, broke down. The demon was devastated, his usual jovial demeanor clouded by a rare display of anger. The residents of the hotel trembled in fear, knowing the havoc that could be unleashed if the Radio Demon's rage remained unchecked.
Alastor's crimson eyes blazed with fury as he prowled the halls of the Hazbin Hotel, his usual jovial smile replaced by a menacing snarl. The residents cowered in fear, whispering among themselves as they caught glimpses of the Radio Demon's wrathful form.
"You there!" Alastor's voice boomed, sending shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to cross his path. "Do you have any idea of the inconvenience of my beloved radio breaking? The nerve, the audacity!"
Niffty, the hyperactive cleaner demon, spoke with a frantic passion as she viewed the mangled radio."Alastor! I'll do it! Let me clean it please!"
Alastor's laughter rang out like a chilling melody, sending a chill through the air. "Oh, my dear Nifty, no thank you. This requires some…interrogation but feel free to clean up the aftermath."
Angel Dust, lounging lazily on a nearby couch, scoffed, "Oh, lighten up, Al, it's just a stupid radio. Besides, it's not like anyone listens to your old-timey tunes anyway."
The room fell silent as Alastor's gaze bore into Angel Dust, his smile twisting into a sinister grin. "Is that so, my dear Angel? Perhaps I should demonstrate the consequences of underestimating the power of music."
With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summoned a spectral microphone, its ethereal glow casting eerie shadows across the room. "Now, let's see who's laughing when I unleash the full force of my wrath upon this wretched offender!"
The residents of the Hazbin Hotel trembled as Alastor's menacing laughter echoed through the halls, knowing all too well that when the Radio Demon was in a foul mood, no one was safe from his terrifying fury.
As fear spread throughout the hotel, Y/N knew she had to act swiftly to quell the storm brewing within Alastor's heart. Ignoring the warnings of her peers, she clandestinely snatched the broken radio and retreated to her workshop, determined to restore it to its former glory.Under the cover of night, she stealthily crept into Alastor's room, her pockets filled with tools and determination. With deft hands, she dismantled the broken radio, each cog and wire familiar to her skilled touch.
Hour after hour, Y/N toiled away, her nimble fingers dancing across the delicate machinery. With each adjustment and tweak, the radio gradually came back to life, its familiar crackle filling the air once more. But as the night wore on,  fatigue gnawed at Y/N's bones, her eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. But she pressed on, fueled by determination and a desire to see her friend smile once more.
Finally, with a soft click, the radio sprang to life, emitting a crackling sound before filling the room with the familiar strains of vintage jazz. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she admired her handiwork.
But as she stood there basking in her success, fatigue finally caught up with her. With a yawn, she sank into a nearby chair, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep claimed her.
Unbeknownst to her, Alastor had been silently watching from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he observed Y/N's tireless efforts to fix his broken radio. When he saw her succumb to exhaustion, a pang of concern tugged at his heart, softening the edges of his usually stoic demeanor.
Quietly, he approached her slumbering form, his footsteps barely audible against the creaking floorboards. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch light as a feather.
"My dear Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "Such devotion, such selflessness. You truly are a marvel."
A warmth blossomed in Alastor's chest as he watched her sleep, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. For the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to tenderness stirring within him—a feeling he realized with a start was nothing short of admiration.
With a soft sigh, Alastor leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead before picking up her form and striding over to his bed; tucking her in with the utmost care. As he stood there in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the quiet hum of the fixed radio and the soft breathing of his friend, he knew at that moment that he was irrevocably touched by her kindness.
And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, Alastor silently vowed to cherish and protect Y/N, for she had not only fixed his broken radio but had also managed to mend something far more precious—his wounded heart.
The next morning dawned upon the Hazbin Hotel, the air tinged with a sense of relief as the residents basked in the knowledge that Alastor's beloved radio had been fixed. Alastor strode into the lobby with a confident swagger, his usual grin plastered on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the radio, the familiar crackle of static filling the air before giving way to the melodic strains of love songs from a bygone era.
The residents exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion evident as they listened to the unexpected playlist. Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, looks like someone's feeling a bit sentimental today."
Alastor's grin widened, though there was a hint of something softer lurking beneath the surface. "Ah, my dear Angel, music has a way of stirring the soul, don't you think?"
As the love songs continued to play, the other residents couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth wash over them. Even the gruffest demons found themselves tapping their claws to the beat, caught up in the unexpected romance of it all.
But as Alastor's gaze lingered on Y/N, who stood among the crowd with a shy smile, a wave of realization washed over him. It wasn't just any love songs he was playing—it was a silent declaration of his growing affection for the inventive soul who had captured his heart.
And as the music filled the room with its sweet melody, Alastor couldn't help but feel a surge of hope coursing through him. Perhaps, in the midst of Hell's chaos, there was still room for love to blossom—a love that transcended time and defied all odds.
With a soft chuckle, Alastor stole a glance at Y/N, his heart swelling with newfound courage. For in that moment, amidst the gentle strains of love songs and the soft glow of morning light, he knew that he was falling—falling head over heels for the one who had fixed not only his broken radio but also the shattered pieces of his soul.
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allieebobo · 7 months
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Do you have any if recommendation?
Ooh! I have really, really bad memory(!!) but these are current faves that I have played/replayed recently that I can think of. A lot of the authors are also THE BEST HUMAN BEINGS EVER. So, double recommendation.
I probably missed a bunch out, so take this as a non-exhaustive list! In no particular order:
(Edit: Added some descriptions but yeah I got a little unhinged so I'm sorry nothing makes sense or if the quality of the write-up went down over time/did not actually give you any useful info)
WIPs with demos
Citadel, @bouncyballcitadel (I think of all the IFs on this list, this one makes me sweat the most. And I've said it once and I'll say it again: the dialogue is so snappy and well-written, and characters are SO DAMNED LOVEABLE.)
Infamous, @infamous-if (I've been manifesting Band/Musician IFs for the longest time, and then this popped up! I've even played Choice of a Rockstar, that's how desperate I was... Anyway, this is legions better than that. Angsty ex routes are my kryptonite, and Seven is just. Inevitable.)
Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian, @defiledheartsblog (I went into this wanting something juicy and fun/historical—and it's all of those things, but I didn't expect it to be so damned funny, too. The ROs are all impeccable.)
Raiders of the Caravan and Apartment 3-3, @leftski-if (A'ight listen, fantasy slice-of-life is my fave genre, and these are IT. Like, everything I never knew I needed in my life, and SO cozy/wholesome, with a cast of characters that I want to befriend in real life.)
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: An Affair of the Heart @doriana-gray-games (First off, the customization in this game is INSANE, and the branching too. I've replayed a couple of times and the little variations I discover each time just blows my mind. Secondly, it's so funny and written so well. Ngl I'm not a Sherlock fan but that's just testament to how amazing this IF is.)
When Life Gives You Lemons, @when-life-gives-you-lemonssss (Modern slice-of-life with an adorable kid, a bunch of hot ROs, CC. Hill's humor, what can I say?)
Golden @milaswriting (Really interesting world-building, one of the coolest fictional cities I've read in an IF, AND I'm obsessed with the ROs, in particular K de la Renta. Also Mila is such an awesome writer, I'm beyond excited for @beyondthegame.)
A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns (This game is beautiful, polished, and SO exciting. Honestly, it looks like the kind of game created by a whole-ass game studio and would cost $50 to buy, it's that good. I really got swept up by this IF—probably played it all in one go.)
Rougi @rougi-if (Again, another game with scrumptious visuals/UI and also is just so well-crafted. I love the premise too, it's so original and fresh.)
Scout: An Apocalypse Story @anya-dev (Unfortunately this one might be on hiatus but I am/was really, really obsessed.)
Wayfarer @idrellegames (Love the game mechanics of this one, and the visuals. Probably controversial, but I like the D&D / random dice effect. And I also like the fact that it feels like an old-school RPG.)
Chop shop @losergames (The premise is all I needed to be sold, really—I'd always wanted to buy GTA as a kid but my parents were like NO WAY. Anyway, this IF did not disappoint, and let me live all my childhood dreams.)
Edit: AHH! How could I forget, one of my recent faves, Folksaga @folksaga-if (Lush atmospheric writing, super unique premise—norse mythology, plus I'm head over heels for Katla).
Completed IFs
Butterfly Soup 1 and 2 @brianna-lei (these are completed and I will never not promote them. Honestly the most adorable, wholesome, funny sports/coming-of-age IF I've read)
Elsinore: After Hamlet @lapinlunairegames (Insanely cool premise, insanely cool execution)
The Thick Table Tavern @manonamora-if (I love bar/tavern games, and this one actually lets you mix drinks! Instant fave.)
Other HGs/COGs I love: Slammed, Tin Star, Fallen Hero, If it pleases the court, A Player's Heart (these last two are so underrated, though I guess cause it's mainly wlw)
739 notes · View notes
mooooonnnzz · 23 days
Note
here’s a tlok request 😉 how about mako and bolin helping nervous reader ask korra out🤭🤭 i’ve been thinking about this scenario for a whileeeeee
Korra x fem!reader
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✮ sorry this took soo lonnggg was busy with finalsss
✮ nothing much!! bolin being a good wingman
✮ mako is trying his best 😞
✮ ENJOYY + REQUEST R OPEN
✮ not proofread 💔
You burst through the doors, anxiety swirling through you like a windy storm. Your mind was racing with so many possibilities and what if’s you were near exploding. Korra has been a little too friendly lately. Her lingering touches and longing looks has made you assume that maybe, just maybe she likes you more than a friend. How could you think otherwise? Just the day before she was blushing when you hugged her goodbye. She’s never done that before, then again, you’ve never been all that touchy with her. Hugging her is new for you and her. Maybe she was flushed with embarrassment? But what if there’s a slight chance she might like you the same way you do? You need to take advantage of that slim possibility, even if it does seem a little crazy.
Bolin’s attention switches from the earth plates he was practicing on throwing on to you. Your name slips past his lips, curiously he takes in your rigid form. “You okay?” He asks, straighten in his posture and wiping the sweat that trickled down his forehead.
“Korra,” Was all you said. Bolin rasied a brow, cocking his head to the side confused. “What about Korra?”
You nervously bite your lip, peeling away at the dry skin that was flaking off. “Ineedhelpaskingherout.” You said in a hurried mush, your eyes staring down at your shoes.
“You need what?” Bolin angles his head slightly to the side, attempting to hear your jumbled mess of words better. “I need help…askingkorra out…”
You can see the cogs turn in Bolin’s head as he tries to make sense of what you said. When it finally clicks, he gasped so loudly that you could’ve swore anyone around would have heard him.
“You want to ask Korra out?!” Bolin excitedly said, his eyes sparkling brightly. “Finally!” He cheers.
“Finally?” You repeat, eyebrows furrowing with confusion tracing your face. “What do you mean finally?”
Has your attraction to Korra been painfully obvious to others except you and her?
“It was so obvious that you and her had something for each other! It’s about time you do something about it.” Bolin grins from ear to ear. “Mako owes me so much money.” He whispers to himself. “Imagine how many bowls of noodles I can buy with that much money!”
You could see the blissful look take over his face the minute he starts imagining how much he can get for him and Pabu to share.
The doors open and for a second your heart drops to your stomach at the thought of Korra being the one coming inside. You were proven wrong when Bolin loudly calls Mako over.
Begrudgingly he comes over, annoyance written across his face. “Yes?” Mako says when he nears you and Bolin.
“Guess who’s asking Korra out!”
Mako’s eyes immediately went to look at you. His whole demeanor shrinks as he realizes he lost his bet with Bolin.
“How much do you want?” Mako sighs, a visible frown taking over his lips. “80 yuan?” Mako’s eyes widen. “80 yuan? You’re crazy. Lower it.”
“Hey man! You lost the bet, not me.” Bolin lazily shrugs, placing his palm up right in front of him and Mako. “Pay up big brother!”
Mako ends up giving him the money that was owed. He’s left 80 yuan short and with a large scowl on his face. “What now?” He huffs out, grumpily crossing his arms across his chest.
“We’re going to help someone ask Korra out.” Bolin looks at you while cheekily smiling. Mako sighs and soon enough you’re being told a step by step plan by mostly Bolin on how to “woo” Korra. Mako added his input occasionally. He’s not the best at asking someone out or giving advice but the effort was sweet.
The walk to Korra after spotting her was genuinely the most stressful part. Watching her lips upturn into her infamous crooked smile upon seeing you was all it took for your heart to burst. You send a worried look over to Bolin and Mako who were sitting on a bench. A newspaper covered Bolin’s face while Mako had sunglasses. Lowering the newspaper, Bolin shot you a thumbs up before covering his face with the newspaper. His eyes peeping through the peep holes he created to spy on you and Korra.
“Hi Korra,” You greet with a nervous smile. She greets you back, your name slipping past her lips so smoothly it made your skin erupt in goosebumps. “What’s up? Wanna hang out or something?” Korra asks.
“Yeah, yeah. I just want to get something out of the way first,” You clear your throat, hearing a soft cheer of Bolin.
Korra looks over to who made the sound and rose a brow when she was met with a pair of eyes that was shrouded behind newspaper. “Do you see that guy over—“
“—I like you Korra!”
Silence.
Korra shakes her head. “Wait, what?” Her brows knit together in confusion. Her cheeks are blooming into a light blush. “What did you say?” A small smile fights its way to her lips.
“I…I like you. More than like, really. I just don’t know if you liked me like that and I didn’t want to make you feel—“ Your rambling was cut short by Korra’s lips pressing against yours.
She pulls back, smiling crookedly. “I do like you like that,” She says, interlocking her hand with yours. “I thought it was a pretty obvious.”
“It was pretty obvious!” Bolin shoots up from the bench, discarding the newspaper aside. The wind pushes the newspaper onto Mako’s face, who lurched forward in surprise. He must’ve fallen asleep during the whole ordeal.
“Bolin?” A confused expression was plastered onto Korra’s face.
To the newspapers dismay, Mako was able to rip it off his face. Korra’s eyes widen upon seeing Mako.
“What are they doing here?” Korra asks you, watching bow Bolin approached you and her. “We’re here for moral support.” Bolin puts his hands on his waist, puffing his chest out triumphantly.
“Did it work?” Mako asks from the bench.
“Obviously!” Bolin retorted.
“Did they help you ask me out?” Korra softly laughs, her eyes meeting yours. “Yeah…I couldn’t do it alone so they offered to help me.” You confess, twisting your foot on the ground nervously.
“I think you did pretty well.” Korra’s thumb caresses your hand. “At least Bolin didn’t tell me that you liked me.”
You smile at Korra, feeling your cheeks tingle with happiness. “So we’re together together?” You ask giddily.
Korra answers your question with another kiss. Wrapping her arms around your waist, she mumbles a quiet “yes” into the kiss.
Bolin’s loud cheering could be heard from across nations.
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fyeahnix · 9 months
Text
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Dogsong | Sevika/Reader Explicit 10.6k F/F CW: breathplay, mild daddy kink, lesbian smut, no y/n use AO3 (read here for correct texting format)
High-energy evenings in Zaun melted down and metamorphosed into bustling and boisterous nights. Laborers swarmed from their day jobs tired and grumbling, eager to shake off the stench of a hard day's work with an even harder pint of hooch. The last rays of sunshine retired beneath the horizon; neon streaked the Lanes, picking up the slack where natural light abandoned its role. Buskers and ruffians bathed in magenta and mint hustled blue collar workers and businessmen alike. Black market vendors screamed over drummers to fence their hottest products before closing. Jericho's food stall was packed to the brim with Zaunites of every race imaginable starving for their last meal of the day. But The Last Drop? Closed for the night.
The bar-turned-nightclub was the landmark halfway point in your designated path home from work. The chartreuse lights blinked on one by one as the giant drew close to opening every night. Once the last light flickered on, the club was open to scrounge every last cog out of its dedicated patrons. Tonight, the cyclops slept. No lights and no patrons lined up around the corner waiting for the doors to open. The owner was preoccupied with more pressing matters this Friday evening.
How did you know that? The same reason your evening walk home was as peaceful as they came, even around the shadiest crevices of the Lanes. You'd witnessed muggings and assaults before, dodged solicitors and chem-stunted drug dealers seeking to become your next plug. Zaun's infamous crime lord, Silco, ruled with a more notorious underboss as his right hand—your girlfriend, Sevika. And your relationship with her had its perks. She made doubly sure that your usual trek home was safeguarded by her underlings hidden in plain sight. A watchful weapons salesman here, a nodding thug there. "Zaun royalty" was as close a descriptor as anything else.
When you entered your condo on Zaun’s Promenade level, you knew Sevika had only left recently. Wisps of cedarwood cologne clung to the foyer and living room and trailed back into the bedroom. Last year's name day gift to her—a custom, earthy note mastercrafted from Renata Glasc herself. You were thankful for the connection since you'd had next to no experience with fragrances on your own. Still, as infrequently as she sprayed the unique, luxurious scent, it left you yearning for her all the same.
An important business dinner whisked her away tonight. Normally, you were invited to events as her plus one, and her boss, Silco, would regard you with a gentle cant of his head. Tonight? The final stages of new business dealings—no outsiders allowed. Fair enough.
You still pouted at her yesterday when she had relayed the news. Sevika wasn’t immune to your perfected puppy-dog eyes, a skill you picked up from the very hounds you bred and trained in your profession. She placated you with a kiss on the forehead and the promise of dinner at one of Zaun’s finest establishments tomorrow night. At least you had that to look forward to after a long week and barely any time alone with her.
Sevika had left her discarded clothing and towels scattered from the bedroom to the bathroom, and you rolled your eyes at once again having to remind her to pick her shit up. A quick scolding text would suffice, but you decided against it. She probably left in a hurry again, and she wouldn't answer anyway. Rarely had the opportunity when discussing business.
Under steaming water, you showered, scrubbed away any lingering dog fur and hidden slobber. The relief was instant and welcome, but as water pounded your face and neck, you found yourself missing a pair of hands on you. You didn’t shower together often; between your schedules and Sevika’s disdain for hot showers, there wasn’t much opportunity. Friday was your dedicated time together in preparation to spend most of the night at The Last Drop. And Janna, did she know how to use her hands during that time.
Where would she have ventured tonight? What winding road would she have traveled? Which muscles would she have massaged first? Back, traps, deltoid? How far down would she have dragged her lips? You shivered at ghostly memories caressing your neck, your shoulders and hips. Arched into the imaginary fingertips under your breasts and across your ribs. Held still at the phantom hand nestled between your thighs—
But it was far, far too early to get carried away. She'd be back before the twenty-second bell, right?
Out of the shower, you stole a shirt from Sevika's armoire and paired it with your own underwear. Your shared bed was a mess of cream sheets and burgundy blankets that neither of you had time to straighten. You didn't mind the mess as much when you flopped onto the bed and snuggled into Sevika’s pillow. Her lingering scent, smoke and spice, rose proper butterflies in your belly. And with those butterflies, memories of your first encounter fluttered back.
You had met over two years ago. Ungrateful new owners and teething puppies made your week worse than hell, and that pushed you to craving a drink or five at the first watering hole you laid your eyes on. The Last Drop loomed in the distance with a "Grand Reopening" sign, so you shrugged and took your place in line.
New ownership—a middle-aged man with a timid adoptive daughter he doted on—had seized control after the previous owner's mysterious disappearance and death. The heady club atmosphere didn't match his gaunt, professional demeanor. The homely vibe was rendered extinct, usurped with neon and black lights. Exotic dancers shared a newly-built stage with underground indie rock bands, entertaining patrons drifting under the influence of a new street drug called "shimmer."
You'd taken solace at the end of the bar—ordered and enjoyed your first shot of vodka, no chaser, to wash down the anger and frustration. The squirrelly bartender eyed you closely when you quickly waved for a second shot. You were a lightweight and it took no time for the alcohol to kick in. You rimmed the second glass as a reminder to pace yourself.
The crowd and bass had been deafening. Pool balls cracked behind you in a rowdy game of nine-ball. Players swore and roared insults across the table over a heated poker game in the distance. Your guard lowered, easily lost in the music and bluster.
A piscine Vestayan male had approached you and leaned against the bar in your personal bubble. Glanced you up and down, licking his chops and flicking his barbels. Asked how your day was. You initially clocked him as bad news and hindsight confirmed that.
Short answers didn't cut it for him. Neither had telling him to go fuck his mother sideways with a rusty axe. His webbed, moist fingers landed on your shoulder, and when you jerked away and attempted to stand, they wrapped your upper arm. The strength in his grip was herculean, and you immediately regretted even venturing out for the night.
You had broken his hold enough to attempt an escape but bumped into someone solid behind you. A tall and dark-skinned woman with a strong nose and full lips had inserted herself between you. She took a final swig of her drink, then set it on the bar like it was a piece of fine antique glassware. Glanced the guy up and down before tilting up her chin.
The music had drowned most voices out, but you heard her rumble clear as day. "Is there a problem here?"
The guy's barbels flickered again. He released your arm, shook his head, and slinked off like the plague rat he really was. No argument, no fight, no challenge.
Before you'd taken the second shot, she stopped you and asked to buy you a drink instead. You scowled until she mentioned the drink had been spiked when your attention was diverted. One furtive glance, and the bartender immediately discarded it without a word. The entire ordeal made you want to leave and sulk in your bedroom for the rest of the night.
Sevika, as she had introduced herself, was persistent in a way unlike the asshole from before. She didn't press the drink more than once but sat with you for over three hours at the bar and chatted you up until you released the tension in your shoulders and jaw. Growing up in Zaun accustomed you to a certain flavor of brusque speech but never with the level of humor Sevika peppered in.
As the night carried on without issue and you planned to leave, she had offered to walk you home. You hesitated until you realized how much bigger and taller she was than other patrons in the club. There was no telling who you'd run into on the way back home, so you did what you thought was best and accepted the offer.
Vague conversation had colored the walk home. Your apartment at the time was over a mile away from the club, so you were thankful for the company in the dead of night. Sevika strolled a safe distance from you, never invaded your personal space, nor did she seek anything in return. She was, however, persistent.
"Drink offer's still open if you're interested."
You'd told her you'd consider it.
The smirk she'd given you was telling, like she already knew the answer you'd give. She fished an unfinished joint from a tin in her pocket.
Inhaled.
Exhaled plumes through the nose.
"The bartender, Thieram? Ask for me if you're ever at the Drop again. I'm there most nights."
"Most nights? Why so often?"
She'd laughed, drawing your blush at what you assumed was a rather stupid question.
"Guess you'll have to find out."
She'd taken a final drag, flicked the roach into the pavement across the way, and wished you good night.
You'd taken up her offer the next night.
It wasn’t extravagant or any novel-esque version of a meet-cute. A bad week at work and a pushy asshole brought you together purely by chance. Sevika didn't tolerate harassment in her club, and she thought you looked pissed off enough to strangle a gigalodon. Had plenty of bark between your teeth, she said, but lacked the bite to back it up.
And she was absolutely smitten with it.
You hugged Sevika's pillow closer, memories drifting as a Piltie drama slurred in the background.
Bzzt, bzzt!
Your phone stirred you out of nodding off. You unlocked it and checked the notifications. Sevika?
Should have smoked before this shit…
Poor baby. Dinner must have been stale. You typed up a response.
that bad?
It's bad. Fucking piltie. Won't stop bragging about his summer home and horse stables in the countryside…
ugh, another, seriously?
Good for business. Unfortunately…
details?
Sevika's responses were quick. You imagined her resting her chin on her bronze fist, right hand typing away under the table as a haughty socialite bored the group. You couldn't picture Chross having any patience for such gloating bullshit. And Smeech? Likely snapping his jaws and stroking his short beard.
You mean besides his apparent connections to Demacia? Nah. Don't have em all yet, go fucking figure. I might fall asleep at this rate…
I'll keep you company bear~
What would I do without you?
oh I dunno, I could prob list about 17 things…
Shut up lol
Sevika's following texts staggered in. Bouts of instant messages would follow minutes-long periods of utter silence. The updates for the meeting proved to be entertaining at the very least. Silco sat unamused. Renata picked at her nails while Eramis picked at his food. The new dealer droned on about the partnerships he garnered topside and how much wealth and prosperity he could provide Zaun. The man had his head crammed up his own ass, Sevika said, but Silco at least straightened in his seat once talks of shimmer exchanges with Demacian black markets commenced.
Despite the spicy entertainment, boredom set in for you as well. There was nothing else on TV save for the usual Friday night drama or movie. Any friends you had were more than likely busy with their usual weekly activities, as you would have been. You stared at your phone, hoping and willing for a text from Sevika to come in after your last response. None did.
Still, you could garner her attention. She may be stoic and gruff oftentimes, but she'd raise an eyebrow at a few salacious words, two if you were lucky. Why not roll the dice?
Vikaaa… how much longer? really been missing your hands all day
It was a start, and you buried yourself deeper into your blankets eager for a response. Sevika didn't enjoy texting much. It was tedious for her, too slow and monotonous where a simple phone call would suffice. Not to mention, she could only text with one hand. While she'd past gotten accustomed to gauging the grip strength of her metal prosthetic, her fingers proved a different challenge altogether. "Claws" were more accurate as she'd unintentionally gouged at least three phone screens by now. If not for you, she wouldn't text at all. You were grateful she'd made an exception for your disdain of most phone calls.
Still, the wait was agonizing. Minutes sailed by and you drifted before the indicator danced on Sevika's side of the conversation.
Yeah? Funny. I was just thinking about wrapping my hand around that pretty little neck of yours. Squeeze just a bit so I can hear you struggle to breathe.
Sevika may not have enjoyed texting, but she certainly wasn't terrible at it. You grazed your neck right where she would normally place her hand. Yours wasn't big enough.
dont you wanna hear me choke on your fingers instead?
You wet your lips thinking about Sevika's fingers exploring your mouth. Brushing your lower lip, stroking your tongue. You crossed one leg over the over, smashing your thighs together as Sevika's response came in.
Careful, sweetheart. Keep talking like that and I'll have you choke on my dick.
Would that have been so bad? You didn't think so.
But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Tell me where you want my hands first.
You swallowed hard. Playing hardball already only to dangle it over your head like a carrot. If that didn't say much about Sevika, you didn't know what else did. But fine, you could deal for now.
everywhere fucking everywhere. want your hands down my back, squeezing my throat, my tits, my ass, janna, I really want you playing with my tits right now
Your thoughts soared as wildly as a cliff-shrike’s first flight. Sevika's caress was calculated. She knew where to glide her hands to make you sing, where to prod her claws to make you growl. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't emulate her precision and poise. And her size? Out of the question. Your feeble attempt now was another failure for the books. A pinch at your nipple and clit coaxed a moan from you, but you still heard Sevika's usual croon of "patience" in the back of your mind.
Hadn't you been patient enough? You'd been waiting all day, hell, all week, and dragging your thumb over your clit for an ounce of relief grinded your nerves to ash. You huffed. If you had to suffer, then so did Sevika; it was only fair. You gathered your bearings enough to type a follow-up.
and your fingers? fuck I'm getting so wet thinking about them. want em in and around my mouth, pinching my nipples, buried in my cunt…
You set the phone down and breathed deeply. You wanted to do more, tease more, show Sevika what she was missing being away right now. You bit your bottom lip as you contemplated. Sevika would never say no to any selfies of you, even if they were sent at the most inopportune moments. Hell, if anything, they'd rile her up even more. Couple that with the danger of opening them around prying eyes, and you had a recipe for disaster.
You tugged your underwear down your hips and rested them at mid-thigh, exposing yourself to cool air and crisp sheets. From memory, you mimicked where Sevika would glide her hands in habitual order: jaw, sternum, hips, ribs, breasts. Between your thighs, a gentle tease, before running one finger right up your slit.
A sigh crept from your lungs.
You grabbed your phone—Sevika still hadn’t texted you—and snapped a quick photo of yourself. Your lower half, hand buried beneath a mound of hair, right on display. With minimal internal debate, you shifted positions for a second and caught your full-length mirror in your periphery. Perfect. With some adjusting, you knelt, bent over face down, and snapped a photo of your cunt and ass up on full display. Not at all an unfamiliar position. Satisfied, you shuttled them off into the void with a message:
missing you
It took no time at all before you saw the texting indicator bounce once more. Sevika's response, however, was delayed. She texted, then stopped and repeated the pattern three more times. What stole her attention so suddenly? A new proposition? A conversational shift? Maybe a nosy chem-baron spying over her shoulder?
At long last, her response dropped in and the corner of your lip lifted.
fuck
…Or she was speechless. That worked too.
Pride puffed your chest. With any luck, you'd rile Sevika up so much that she'd have no choice but to fold you into the compromising positionings you photographed yourself in. It wasn't the first time you tested the waters with an exhibitionist stunt like that. Certainly wouldn't be the last.
You'd often hung out with Sevika at The Last Drop on Friday nights. Amateur poker players—who were much too busy coveting what wasn’t theirs to keep their cog purses from drying up—dared to ogle you as you sat perched on her lap. You stared and winked at the spineless ones all while murmuring sweet nothings in your girlfriend's ear. They'd tug at their collars, lick cracked lips, swish their ragged tails like they had any chance in hell. Tunnel vision prevented them from gawking at your little grinds on Sevika's thigh. That or she glared daggers at them when you did. She was never bothered, only playfully whispered for you to knock it off in a voice so husky that you didn't mind the threat to pay you back in her private office upstairs.
Your phone vibrated right before you aimed to toss it across the bed. While you expected another text, a quick glance at the screen flashed Sevika's name with a heart next to it.
A phone call? Now?
You answered. "Didn't think you could talk right now, bear."
"You're a fuckin' menace, you know that?" she drawled, halfway between a growl and purr.
If only she could see you humorously twirling a lock of hair at that.
"Know who almost saw that? Take a guess."
You scrunched your nose. "Chross?" Gross.
"Nope."
"Please not Silco…" You didn't think you could face that man again if he ever saw those images. It was a dangerous game you played, sure, but anyone but him.
Her silence spoke volumes and your stomach dropped at least fifty feet. Of all the people…
"...Sev, I'm serious."
Sevika snickered. "I'm fuckin' with you. Nah, not Silco. Glasc."
Renata? That was more than a relief. Still, she'd throw you a sly glance across a dinner table the next time you saw her, but she wouldn't judge you for it. You may have only been acquaintances, but she was more than open about the certain… souvenirs she claimed from her own sexual escapades.
"Came at the perfect time. Needed a break and a smoke." On cue, you heard the crackle of embers from Sevika's inhale. "But don't think I didn't have anything for you. Check your messages."
You pulled away from your phone to do just that. She had—two images—and excitement trilled up your spine as you gaped at them.
Sevika took them in a restroom that was nearly as nice as the basic ones you'd seen topside. Soft lighting highlighted her dusky, brown skin well, accentuating a strong jawline and the sharp bridge of a once-broken nose. Jet-black hair was fashioned into its usual top knot with a few loose strands framing her face. The lower half brushed her shoulders and warned of an upcoming haircut. The black button-up she wore was crisp and tailored, one sleeve missing to accommodate her bronze arm, the other rolled up to her elbow to flaunt corded muscle in her forearm. The first button on the shirt remained unbuttoned, and you licked your lips at the tease of skin leading down her chest. Your eyes followed and you took note of the simple elegance of the dark brown waistcoat protecting her broad, muscular chest. Her gaze fixated on the phone carefully cradled in her claws.
You swallowed hard at the next image as another long drag crackled in your ear.
The hand clutching the phone hadn't moved, but Sevika's attention did. Light wolf-grey eyes bore holes in the mirror. Where her free hand had been jammed in her pocket previously, now it was thrust into the front of her undone black chinos. Unbuckled, unbuttoned, unzipped. Free from the confines, she displayed the gunmetal grey boxer briefs proudly. And with that display came the delicious glimpse of brown skin and trail of dark hair that snuck into her underwear.
Sevika was unbelievably handsome—suited up, naked, or any state of undress in-between.
The cherry on top? She was packing. The slight bulge in her underwear commanded your attention, made you salivate. Janna only knew you wanted to grind your ass against that. Or maybe worship with your lips.
"Don't get quiet now. You had so much to say earlier. What was it? You wanted my fingers in and around your mouth?"
A "yes" slipped between your lips like a snake's slither and so did your hand slither between your thighs again. Your eyes fluttered closed.
"Wanted them sheathed in that fucking pussy?"
You choked out a moan. A barely noticeable hitch in Sevika's breath coaxed a tug at the corner of your lip.
"Answer me," Sevika said, voice hardening.
You scrambled to find your own voice as you rolled your hips and lifted one leg. "Mhmm…" you started, attempting a pathetic nod Sevika would never see. "Want 'em deep. So fuckin’ deep."
Sevika sighed deeply. "Baby?"
The way her voice lilted forced your eyes open.
"I want you to stop touching 'til I get home. Can you do that for me?"
Like the hounds you trained daily, your ears perked. You'd grown accustomed to the intention and inflection in her voice and even caught the hint of a smirk at the end. Despite the honey dripping off her words, it was a command, no mistaking it. And though it coaxed a strained whine from your throat, no command she made ever came without buildup towards a worthy payoff. Sevika rewarded patience, after all.
Your words caught in your throat, but you pushed through. “Yes…”
“Yes, what?”
A quick smile broke through. So that's how she wanted to proceed? Considering the long week, you'd definitely play along. Your chest heaved and breath hitched before you spoke the words that served as a verbal handshake to start your "game."
“Yes, Daddy…”
The quick laugh that followed was broken—deep, breathy, a growl of triumph. Shifting fabric crinkled in your ear with a sharp inhale following suit. “That’s my good girl.”
And while you longed for a follow-up to her praise, you received nothing but silence in return. Sevika’s breath still lingered with the occasional drag of her joint. But there was nothing else you could perceive.
…Until you listened closely. Sevika was experienced, a master of controlling her own body. You’d seen as much when she threw rear hooks at the punching bag in your spare room or armlocked sparring partners at the gym. Years of boxing and mixed martial arts trained her to a level of discipline you only coveted. Breath control came to her easily. Well, normally, it did. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” was what she taught you, but her breaths now contradicted her advice. Shaky, uneven, so subtle that she may have been trying to hide it.
And then it clicked.
You tightened your grip on your phone, then released it to trap it between your ear and the bed. You lay there, paralyzed under the fear that if you breathed the wrong way or uttered a word that she’d stop. You shut your eyes and listened. It was a private show in your mind’s eye—Sevika with her hand jammed in her boxers, undulating her touch between her folds, abs flexing with every jerk. Lips parted, the small and cute gap between her front teeth peeking through. Attention focused on nowhere but her own actions.
And you couldn’t do a single thing.
You clamped your thighs together, moist from your slick. No touching… Now it was evident why she voiced the command.
Every Zaunite swear rolled past her lips as she lost herself in her ministrations, and you couldn't help but let a pathetic sigh escape yours.
Sevika shifted and the sudden sound of her belt clinking against the counter startled you. “What I wouldn’t give… to have you on your knees right now.”
Straight to the point. Straight to your cunt.
“Have you look up at me with those pretty eyes. And that pretty fucking mouth.”
There were more than a few occasions that you both had slipped away for a few precious  moments during a business dinner. Lips met tongue met neck. Knees deadened in genuflection on carpet or hard marble, primed for worship. Sevika's breath hot in your ear that she’d forgotten what you tasted like and needed a reminder. If you had attended tonight, you'd bet your life savings you'd have had your face stuffed between her legs as you stared up at her with stars in your eyes.
“You better not be touching right now,” she warned playfully.
“‘M not…” you whispered back. It was hard. So fucking hard to keep your hands balled into the sheets instead buried in your cunt. Patience, a waiting game, and you relaxed as you grew tired and started to drift. “Not touchin’.”
Sevika let a strained groan rip from her chest. She was finished, and the jingle of her belt confirmed as much. As she came down from her high, she inhaled deeply. “What I wouldn’t give… to have you clean me up right now.” Her words echoed twice in your head as your world went black. You would clean her, tongue only, licking up every stray drip of slick that rolled down her muscular thighs. Silence festered between you for a spell, allowing you to delve deeper into the thought until she spoke once more. “Gotta head back. See you when I get home, cariño.”
You drifted into the abyss, your declaration of love dying on your tongue as the call ended.
------
The front door's lock clicked in the distance, and the instinctual bout of anxiety burned away as you realized what it was. Not an intruder, but your girlfriend returning from her business dinner at… first bell? Fuck, she was late. Memories of her earlier words quickly stamped out any surfacing annoyance.
Sevika shut the door and locked it, kicked off her boots, and threw her keys and something else onto the kitchen counter. Despite her size, she ambled silently through the condo, and it was only her usual sigh of relief that allowed you to track her movements to the bathroom. She used the sink, likely washing her hands and face before letting out another exhale that was muffled through a towel. The same routine you committed to memory through a sleepy haze for months prior. The same routine that ended when she finally poked her head into your bedroom.
Her eyes darted between you and the TV before she raised a brow.
"Thought you'd be asleep by now," she said.
"Is that why you told me 'no more touching'?"
Sevika approached and sat on the edge of the bed to hover over you, trapping you between her hands.
"Wasn't expecting it to be that long, baby. Dinner went over an’ our debrief at the Drop took longer than usual too." You scrunched your face in mock annoyance as she leaned in and settled at your collar. "But… I'm here now. So lemme make it up to you."
Sweet citrus undertones intermingled with herbal cigar and her own natural, smoky scent. Memories of your late-night parting kisses outside your old apartment wafted back like pleasant dreams. For a few precious seconds, you shut your eyes, craning your neck to submit to her. And just like old times, you trailed your fingers at her waist before raking your nails up her spine, drinking in the guttural groan at your collar.
Sevika kissed a pathway up your neck and along your jawline before she pulled away just enough to leave her own lips out of reach. Even through the soft, amber ambiance of the room's light, her eyes sparkled with genuine interest. The arcane scars on her left cheek glittered, silky under your fingertips.
"Hi, sweetheart," she said.
A sweet smile tugged at your lips. "Hi, bear."
Sevika closed the distance. Your foreheads knocked, breath mingled, and before her beautiful, dark lips could capture yours in a kiss, you halted her advance with a single finger.
"Uh uh. I know you saw that mess you left out when you came in…"
She sighed, shut her eyes at your light scolding.
"...so please. Pick your shit up and then maybe I'll keep playing with you."
When you let go and she opened her eyes again, her face twisted in half-amusement and half-apology, a cute and unguarded expression she reserved only for you. The twitch in her lips revealed her desire to retort, but ultimately she conceded.
"’M sorry. Woke up late, was in a rush."
"Baby, I told you I was working later today and wouldn't be able to wake you up. Some of the pups are having teething and potty issues this week."
"I know, I know," she murmured against your lips. "Slept through three of my alarms. I'll pick it up. All of it."
"You fucking better," you said, teasing her lips with yours before you steal a kiss. She wasn't caught off guard in the slightest. In fact, she was ready for it, leaned into it with all the bravado of someone who missed a long lost love. When you had your fill, you pulled away with her bottom lip in tow. "Now, stop stalling."
Sevika grumbled in protest. She pecked the corner of your mouth before retreating and snatching the first articles of her discarded outfit from the bedroom floor. The action was entirely juvenile, not at all indicative of the type of person Sevika presented publicly, but well within the line of her subtle humor you grew to love.
Regardless of said task, you couldn't help but break out a smile as you followed her out of the bedroom and into the hallway, a flighty bounce in every step. You tried to hide it as she glowered at you.
With her dirty boxer briefs in hand, she finally spoke. "The hell you smilin’ about?"
"Just find it funny," you said, circling her. "How much you harp on me about being patient. And yet… here you are, having to wait yourself."
Sevika clearly didn't find the predicament humorous. With an upturned brow, she flung her boxers at your face. You didn't have time to react and your head became a makeshift hamper. She choked out a laugh as you tore them off and threw them back at her.
You tailed her through the condo as she picked up her discarded nightwear and towels and tossed them in the hamper. The final destination was your bathroom and you leaned against your sink, biting your lip, suddenly drawn into Sevika’s chosen outfit for the occasion.
“What?” she said. “See somethin’ you like?”
Quite an understatement.
Photos didn’t do her justice. You couldn't help but rove your eyes over her. Her shirt and pants accentuated her toned musculature in a way that made you lick your lips. The getup fit her well, looked comfortable, and even masked her usual disdain for dressing up to “kiss businessman ass.”
You’d once made an offhand comment about how great she’d look in a vest. Her effort clearly didn’t disappoint. For someone who hated dressing up? Damn, did she exceed expectations.
Sevika rolled her eyes and motioned to undress herself. You caught her wrist in yours. Laced your fingers and squeezed as you lowered them both. She raised a brow, eyes searching yours. She was so eager to rid herself of her clothes, but you couldn’t bear letting her tear herself out of them so hastily.
Not so soon.
Not yet.
"Let me?"
She canted her chin. Studied you.
You released her hand and mapped out a path with deft fingers. Up her right thigh, ghosting over her zipper to her hip, relishing the flare of her nostrils. The bathroom light twinkled off the waistcoat's buttons as you ascended over them, each resounding with a simple tap when you flicked them. You traced the visible shirt buttons upwards, stopping at her sternum where it flared open. Beautiful brown skin starred with small freckles and moles gave way where you pressed. You glided over her neck, felt her throat bob when she swallowed. The scar on her left cheek shimmered under your touch, silky aqua and turquoise marbling that guided you back down her jaw and neck. Back to the second button on her shirt to finally undo it.
You looped the button through its hoop and more of Sevika's skin became available for you to dusk your lips over. Her audible exhale drove you further as you released the third. More skin, more area to cover with gentle and practiced kisses. If you could cover every inch of her chest, you would. Stain her, mark her, claim her with the most seductive shade of lipstick you owned. A rich burgundy that matched her favorite poncho would suffice, wouldn't it?
While you kept your mouth busy at her chest, you released every button on her shirt and waistcoat. As much as you desired to roll them off her shoulders, you kept them on, admiring how they framed her over her dark sports bra. You scored down her taut abs with your nails until you found and fiddled with her belt. A bit of handiwork made releasing it trivial, and it clinked beneath you both as you left it undone to fumble for the button at her pants. Unbuttoned and unzipped, her pants lay open and free for you to graze fingertips at the waistband of her boxer briefs. You glanced down. A subtle bulge hidden beneath dark grey.
A cold, metal hand teased your waist, found purchase at the small of your back, spurring you on. From her waistband, your touch rose up her lower abs, pressed against them to coax the slight give and jerk of her muscles. She was solid underneath you, honed and sculpted like an athlete carved out of Pentelic marble. You rebuffed any muttered insult of her being a brute. She wasn't, far from it. Mixed martial arts and boxing kept her in shape, but her intimidating size and strength only belied her gentleness with you behind closed doors. Besides, would a brute have enough patience and self-control to handle the pressure of being Silco's right hand? The weight of being heir to the metaphorical throne?
Sevika flicked her tongue over the corner of her top lip when you feathered the dark hair that vanished into her boxers. Your final descent brushed over that trail, crept over the bulge at the apex of her thighs. The metal hand at your back pulled you closer. Sevika lowered her head to rest at your shoulder and you caught the tail end of a guttural groan at your ministrations.
She inhaled. Deeply. Her lips latched to the juncture of your jaw and neck. Her rumble deepened, hips angled into your touch.
"Cariño…"
It was your turn to smile. You knew where to touch and prod, the correct tempo and intensity to render Sevika putty in your hands. She melted when you tugged at silky, black hair. Let her lips part and drag across your cheek until they met with yours. It was cute how hard she tried to reel it in and keep her control, how hard she tried to stifle the jerk of her hips. You congratulated yourself for the effort… until she spoke against your lips to render your work undone.
"Turn around for me?"
Tone relayed the intended message. It sent a shiver crackling up your spine that halted your movements. Surprise quickly morphed into latent arousal. Why keep her waiting when you could smell the direction this was turning?
Her grip loosened enough for you to adjust yourself. You turned, slowly, and faced the mirror to watch her rise to her full height behind you. Sevika held several inches over most human men in Zaun and a full head over you. The toughest men who frequented The Last Drop tucked their tails at her size and strength. With you? She was as harmless and cuddly as a teddy bear. And she proved as much when she wrapped her arms around you and squeezed for good measure.
She buried her nose into the crook of your neck and shoulder, planted open-mouthed kisses up the side of your neck and into your jawline. In pure Sevika fashion, she tipped your jaw to give herself more access to the column of your throat. You couldn't help the giggles that fell from your lips, and she followed suit with a few chuckles of her own.
Any words you would have spoken were lost in a whispered sigh as she nuzzled right against your ear and spoke. "Been missin’ you all night."
And your heart somersaulted out of its cage.
Your eyes caught Sevika's in the mirror—predatory, wolf-like—irises pushed to the edges by pupils blown wide. She stared back at you. Mischief brewed underneath as the corner of her mouth tweaked upwards. She pulled you in closer, ran her full lips up the nape of your neck.
"Tell me again where you want my hands, beautiful."
Fuck, her voice. Like a growl soaked in arousal. You shifted, aiming to turn around but she kept you in place. All you wanted was to steal her breath from her lungs, make her speak those words again into your mouth. Consume every consonant and vowel as sustenance.
Her hands roamed and if you didn't give her an answer, she'd probably decide for you. So, you dredged up your earlier conversation and relayed it back to her.
"My… my mouth."
"Yeah?"
You nodded pathetically. She obliged.
Her left arm stayed wrapped around your waist. She brought her right hand up to lift your chin. Examined you in the mirror, turned your head this way and that like she was contemplating what to do with you. Finally, she tutted and smiled.
"Such a pretty girl." She thumbed your bottom lip and you flicked your tongue out to graze it. She didn't mind in the slightest, even encouraged it by dipping in to brush the inside of your lip. When you wrapped your lips around her thumb, she allowed you for all of ten seconds before removing it and painting your chin with your saliva. "With a pretty fucking mouth, too. Don't you think?"
Another nod, and she nipped the shell of your ear.
"I wanna hear you say it, baby. Tell me." She squeezed you gently for emphasis.
You sighed, cheeks flaring with the words floating in your mind. "I… I have a pretty fucking mouth."
Sevika snickers and kisses you in three places. Lightning bolts on inflamed skin. "Good girl. Now, open." Her fingers slid across your lips, waiting for the access that you granted immediately.
Her index and middle split in your mouth, taking residence on either side of your tongue. You teased between both before running up the middle finger. You swirled it left, pulled it center, sucked it like your life depended on it. You repeated the same for her index. Her fingers were devoid of any distinct flavor, but if you thought hard enough, you feigned the savor of your dripping cunt from memory alone.
You sucked and sucked and sucked on her fingers, bobbing slowly as you maintained eye contact with the owner of the wolfish grin in the mirror. One draw of her fingers withdrew them far enough to let your saliva dribble down your lip and chin. You cleaned up as much as you could, but the rest streaked and smeared as Sevika removed herself completely to cup your chin, then your cheeks.
That same hand made the agonizing trip down your neck and chest to graze over your pert nipples peeking through the large shirt. The breath you inhaled made her stop, and her stopping made you whine in protest.
"Think I remember you wanted my hands on your tits. That true?"
While your head was swimming through the heady haze of arousal, you'd have been remiss to not notice both her hands at the hem of your shirt easing their way up. Each second she waited for a response made the trip more leisurely. Typical Sevika behavior. She was a master of drawing pleasure out until the last second—the true embodiment of the virtue of patience despite how many vices she indulged on the regular.
Once more, an eager nod didn't satisfy her.
"Use your words, baby."
"Y-Yes, I want your hands on my tits. Mmm… all over them…"
Sevika flashed you a quick smile before she peppered four kisses from your neck up to your cheek. The last she released slowly, letting her lips linger hot on your skin. Her nose feathered across your cheek, ghosted your earlobe. She kept silent, but her gaze followed her hands as they raised your shirt.
Slowly.
“Arms up,” she said.
You obeyed. Up, up, up the shirt rose. It stopped right over your face, and Sevika held you there with your arms raised for several seconds before you caught on to her game and hip checked her. She laughed at you when you cussed at her, but once the shirt was tossed aside, Sevika was free to fully engulf your breasts in each hand. Her hands were big; you placed your own over hers and relished at the difference in size. A groan roiled in the pit of your chest only to ease up and drift from your lips as a breathy sigh.
She massaged them, kneaded them, rolled them under strong hands. Her fingers, still damp and drying from your mouth, tweaked and tugged your nipples. The motion and temperature difference had you choking out a moan, and you felt it like a bolt of lightning from your cunt to the soles of your feet.
Her bulge pressed right against your ass. You pushed and grinded back into her to elicit a low groan. Not a full-size dildo or even a pack-and-play from what you could decipher, but the friction still felt fucking amazing.
"Feel good, babe?" She pulled your earlobe with her teeth, and with it, a strained moan from your throat. "You're lucky," she began. You protested when her claws left your breast and descended to squeeze your supple ass. "You're lucky it's late and I'm tired.” With her hand at the back of your neck, she bent you forward until your cheek lay flat against the cold marble counter. She flicked her tongue out against your tailbone, then the dimples in your back. Licked an unwavering trail up your spine until she reached your nape. The shiver she coaxed from you was delicious but didn’t hold a flame to the words she purred in your ear. “Or else I'd fuck you silly. Tear your little ass apart." She could be so much dirtier, so much kinkier. This? It was light work, and it still made you gush between your thighs.
No manner of struggling or rolling your hips made Sevika let up. But you still played along.
"Good thing… you don't need a strap for that."
"Oh yeah?" You felt Sevika's smirk grow from her place at your neck. "What else should I use?" She lifted you, gave you a quick swat on the ass—you flinched—before tugging at your breast again. She rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger then repeated the same motion with the opposite hand, making your toes curl.
You cursed yourself for being so fucking sensitive. Sevika had learned of it after your first night together and had been exploiting it ever since. With enough attention, it wasn’t impossible to make you come from nipple play alone. Janna knows she’d done it before and then laughed at you afterwards. Called you cute.
Whether she aimed to elicit another slew of moans from you, or make it difficult for you to answer properly, you didn't know, but she was successful regardless.
"Mm… your fuuu….f-fin….fuck…"
"My what? Speak up, baby girl."
"Fuck off, Sev. Your fingers. I want your fucking fingers inside me."
You let her tweak your nipple one final time before you grasped the back of her large hand, intertwining your fingers. She didn't resist, let you guide her hand slowly but surely down your ribs. Under your guidance, her touch remained gentle with a rebellious edge as she scored your heated skin with blunt nails. She pinched at your hip bone as you passed, then reached to trace the ring of your belly button before stopping briefly at the waistband of the underwear.
With one snap of the band with her thumb, you brought her hand lower and gasped when her fingers weaved through the hair on your mound. You squeezed it in your claw grip. Grinded against her again.
"I’ve barely touched you and you’re already writhing under me," Sevika whispered.
Well, she was right. You'd been so pent up and eager the whole night, a simple ghost of her fingers right where you needed her drove you wild. All the hours of waiting and you'd finally get closer to release. The grand question was… how quickly would she let you?
Sevika was notorious for her antics. Begging on your knees? She had you covered. Servicing her first and thanking her for it? A favorite of hers. Worshipping every inch of your body under honeyed words and praise? You never minded waiting there. Patience above all was rewarded, but she still made the experience enjoyable along the way. Which route she'd explore today was still undetermined, even with the familiar mischievous glint in her eyes.
No amount of grinding or snapping the waistband of her boxers made her budge. Instead, you earned a smirk and playful tug of your left nipple. You pouted.
She moved an inch lower to appease you, kneaded your left breast again for good measure. The motion kept you at attention, pliable and eager to please, to do whatever needed to get what you so desperately desired. You shot Sevika a glance that would have put your own hounds to shame.
"Look at my pretty girl. Can't wait to get fucked, can she? What’s the magic word, sweetness?"
Your heart rate spiked right as your belly backflipped. Embarrassment shouldn’t have crept up given how many fucking times you both have done this.
And yet…
“Please?” you said, supplementing with a slow roll of your hips. “Please, Daddy Bear?”
Well, any amount of embarrassment was worth the tremor that vibrated through your lover. It was cute how she couldn’t fully contain her excitement when her sadistic side poked its head out to play.
"Good girl. Let go."
You gave her blazing hand one final squeeze before you did.
Sevika inhaled at your hairline and planted open-mouthed kisses from neck to ear. The shudder in her breaths was evident enough that she wanted to drive further, deeper. She was losing herself, relinquishing her mastery of control. "I want to hear you choke on my fingers, baby. Can you do that for me?"
You nodded. "Mhm…"
"Good. Now, open your mouth."
You obeyed, stuck your tongue out for good measure.
Sevika traced the curve of your chin and jaw, then your top lip until she rested on your bottom. She caressed the center right under the tip of your tongue. "Get my fingers nice and wet, and then I'll give you what you want. Deal?"
“Mhmm…” You accepted her first offered digit between your lips to suck on. She let you control the pace, allowed you to grab her flesh hand in yours to worship and savor at your leisure. You rolled your tongue around it again, working arduously to cover every inch in your saliva.
When you were ready, you added a second, her ring finger. It reached the back of your tongue with ease, and the thought of how trivial it would be to gag on it made you throb between your thighs. But you weren't ready. Not yet. With both in your mouth, you set them on your tongue and began to suck them off.
In.
Rest.
Out.
In
Rest.
Out.
You repeated the motion, eyes half-lidded as you savored the moment. You sucked her fingers like you would her strap, albeit a much easier experience, but erotic nonetheless. Unlike her strap, there wasn't enough girth to stretch your lips or ache your jaw. Not enough length to tickle the back of your throat into gagging too hard. But you still took her all the way, and when she hit the back of your tongue, you coughed and choked and opened your watering eyes to cherish your girlfriend's reactions.
An excited tremble shook through Sevika, rocking you. She fixated on your mouth and the saliva that dripped down your chin as she removed her hand. "Fuck…" She took one swipe over your bottom lip—admired it—before dipping into your underwear.
The two soaked digits glided on either side of your clit. The temperature and texture difference forced your head back onto her shoulder with a loud gasping moan. Just like her virtue, her strokes were resolute, every one aiming to make you feel it from top to bottom.
Sevika never disappointed. For all the times she enjoyed watching and hearing you beg, she loved giving you a full body experience to make up for the wait. While she worked her fingers, she pressed herself into you. She worked her claws up your body—cold metal on burning flesh—until she reached and tugged on your nipple again. Her breath tickled your earlobe as she alternated between nips and featherlight kisses trailing to your collar. Abandoned your clit to tease a ring around your entrance.
"That feel good?" she asked.
Dragging the response from your brain proved more tedious than you imagined. You pushed past the mental haze, swam past the dark cloud until you found the words you were looking for.
"Mhm… y-yeah. Yeah… it feels so good…"
“Hahaha… here." She snatched her hand away and you whined as she painted your lips with your own slick. "Taste."
You pulled her soaked fingers into your mouth, lapping at the lingering juice extracted from her tease and craving more.
You stole her hand and guided it back into your underwear, back to sliding around your clit. "Vika…" you whined.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Want your fingers in me, bear… Want 'em deep."
There was no shame in the request, even if your cheeks burned brightly. But you did shudder at Sevika's rumbling laugh behind you. Hissed at her teasing loop around your entrance.
"Want 'em deep, hmm?" she mimicked. Her words lingered, clung to the air like the Zaun Gray as she finally, finally pushed one finger past the threshold into you.
A gentle "fuck" dribbled past your lips. You ground your head harder into her shoulder as you shut your eyes to the world, hellbent on focusing solely on the sensations she gifted you.
Sevika plunged as deeply as she could. Slow motions, in and out, with a curling caress against your soft and sensitive front wall. Then stopped to let you accommodate. Her claws grazed your ribs and under your breast once more before settling at your neck.
Your spine straightened, eyes flew open as she tapped your jugular. Your attention locked with hers.
"You still with me?"
The implication was clear. Sevika loved to be rough and push your limits, and you were more than willing to bend and test them under her watchful guard. Two years together was enough to solidify a clear communication base, but you didn't progress this far without a great deal of understanding and patience. She was surprisingly a good listener, which, in retrospect, shouldn't have been surprising given her line of work. Credit where credit was due, of course.
Finally, you sighed your agreement and braced yourself for the oncoming crescendo.
Sevika retracted her finger to add a second to the mix. She inserted, slowly, sheathed both inside you like a deadly weapon. Large fingers stretched you in that way you loved so much, and she muffled your oncoming moan with her own lips and tongue.
The fog that muddled your brain thickened by the second. Your focus darted everywhere, trying desperately to keep up with every angle of pleasure she massaged your senses with.
Her claws set firmly in place on your neck. Tapped there again in rhythm. Made you acknowledge their presence. She tutted when you arched against her to coax her plan into motion.
"Deja de moverte. Be still." Her index traced down the column of your throat, bobbed under your careful swallow. If you hadn't known her as long as you had, it would have felt like a threat. Instead, it was a warning, a safety precaution.
You stilled, relaxed, and breathed evenly, counting in your head like she taught you.
She pumped once, a test.
Paused.
Another, and Janna, it was difficult not to fidget.
A third, and she open-kissed the corner of your jaw for passing. She kept her pace slow and put pressure on the arteries, leaving your throat and breathing free.
Your pulse thumped against her metal palm. The restricted blood flow intensified every other sensation, had your eyes fluttering. You rasped. The abyss lingered at the very edge of your consciousness, and you wanted to go deeper, sink further, play chicken with it…
Fuck.
Fuck…
But Sevika pulled you out as quickly as you dipped in.
You mourned the loss, but knew it was for the best. Sevika knew it was for the best.
"Good girl," she cooed in your ear, then turned your head back to the mirror. "Look at you, sweetness. My pretty girl."
You gazed in the mirror to stare at the absolutely fucked-out figure in your girlfriend's arms. Half-lidded eyes and parted lips meshed well with erect nipples and crimson marks painting a beautiful and exposed neck. The heady redolence of sex wafted in the air. With your underwear lowered, Sevika's fingers plunged in and out of a pussy glistening with slick. Every thrust filled your ears with the gushing sounds of your juices soaking her fingers.
Your juices.
You were acutely aware it was you in the mirror. Aware of the high you got from the deadly, metal hand at your neck. Aware that your essence remained coated on your tongue. Aware that she fucked you in all primal senses until they dulled.
Blood pounded your ears.
She thrusted.
Heart rammed against your ribcage.
She thrusted.
"Vika…" you moaned. "Se-Sevikaaa…"
You buried your nose into her collar and your world went dark as your hips gyrated into her fingers and into her body. Your orgasm rolled through you like a wave, ebbing and flowing with Sevika's slowing thrusts, every jerk a splash against her. The mantra of her name on your lips broke down to a whispering prayer. She murmured against your temple, gentle words you couldn't fully comprehend with your mind still rattled.
Ragged breaths escaped from your lungs. Your legs wobbled even with Sevika holding you up with her metal arm. And Janna, were you hot. Despite feeling like you’d just sprinted a marathon, the blissfulness was unmatched.
"You okay, sweetheart?" she asked, then her voice dropped. "Or did I fuck you too good?"
You cradled her left arm—a nice chill for your burning skin—with your laugh rolling right into a satisfied purr. She wasn't wrong; even with her fingers she fucked you well into another dimension and it took at least a full minute before your awareness returned. Sevika was still very much buried inside you, unmoving, but still there.
And it felt… good.
She must have been thinking the same as she adjusted and kissed behind your ear. "Gonna pull out now."
And when she did, carefully, you winced and jerked against her. But you stopped her. Her eyebrow rose at you in the mirror, and you quelled her questions when you took those two fingers into your mouth.
"Fuck…" Sevika's claws dug at your hip as she stared at you like Janna herself made her ethereal presence known to the world. She was awestruck watching you clean her hand of your essence. Hungry. Feral. Predatory glint in her wolf-grey eyes.
She spun you around and after a few quick glances at your lips, leaned in to capture them in hers. The usual spark and dominance showed in her aggression—teeth clicked against yours, deft tongue eager to taste and explore your mouth for the umpteenth time. It dizzied you, made it hard to breathe. You shivered as cool metal waltzed down your back, and you retaliated with a prance up her abs.
Sevika flexed under you, rock solid, before she pulled away and stared at you with blown pupils. She tilted your chin up, holding you in place to command your attention, then licked her full lips.
"You taste so fucking good," she whispers.
You locked eyes with her. Experience told you everything she wanted to do to you. How she desired to bend and mold your body, stretch and push you to your limits, savor every bite like a last meal at Stillwater. You melted under her watchful eyes. All you had for her was a smile, and she mirrored it with a wolfish smirk of her own. You seized the moment and moved from her abs to sternum. The thump-thumping of her heart slowed, adrenaline and lust finally wearing off as she knocked her forehead against yours. You inhaled, the lingering base note of her cologne recentering you and pulling your focus back.
"Look at you. So fucking pretty," she said.
Even with your own essence spread across your lips, your knees buckling under her, your eyes half-lidded and dazed, she still gazed at you like you were the most beautiful specimen in all of Runeterra.
"You're such a good girl, you know that?" She released your chin to knock a strand of hair out of your face. "Don't you ever forget it."
You knew what you meant to her, inside and outside the bedroom, but you would never grow tired of hearing her say it.
"Do you understand me?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Daddy."
She gave you two quick pecks followed by a final and more passionate third. And just like that you both relinquished your roles to pick up again another day.
"Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sevika caressed your cheek with her knuckles. “Ready for a shower?"
You shook your head. "In the morning? Took one earlier. Don't feel like it. Also don't think I can stand much longer."
That was all fine with Sevika. She hoisted you onto the counter, asked you to wait, and sauntered off into the bedroom.
The high was finally starting to wear off as you leaned against the bathroom counter, replaced with the occasional brush with darkness. The ghost of Sevika's fingers still remained buried in your cunt—a nice stretch that left a delicious throb and ache in its wake. Wet stickiness between your thighs had you rubbing them together. You could only imagine how great Sevika's tongue would have felt if either of you were up for it.
Eventually, she returned in sweatpants and her sports bra with a washcloth she pulled from the linen closet.
"Hey," she said, lifting your chin gently. "Sleepy already?" Her lip twitched at what you assumed was an oncoming smirk but it never came to light. Your attention wavered and those were the last words you were able to decipher.
Sevika chuckled to herself.
With the mess between your legs cleaned and dried, Sevika flung your arms around her neck. The bathroom light flickered off and you floated to the bedroom and drifted down to the bed.
Sevika stretching over you was the last thing you saw before the bedroom was plunged into darkness.
------
Sudden rhythmic caresses across your ass and thigh stirred you from sleep. Distant cerulean lights sliced through pitch black, left splatters on the far wall. Heartbeats rocked beneath your cheek in tandem with the rise and fall of the strong, bare chest beneath you.
When the motions stopped, you drifted again, struggling to fight sleep until a light buzz startled you alert.
Worry set in at the annoyed and familiar ursine grumble. The hand left you to snatch the phone off the nightstand. It only took five seconds before your girlfriend set it back down and shifted under you.
Immediately, you felt your time together was over. Early texts usually meant last minute shipping manifests. And shipping manifests meant the rare days where Sevika left you in bed alone. Instinct took over and you straddled the body under you, hands planted on her muscular chest to keep her in place.
Sevika rose to her elbows. "What's up, sweetness? You okay?"
You could have laughed. Typical Sevika, overly worried about you while her sleepy, husky voice lit a small fire in your loins. You made a valiant attempt to stamp it down.
"¿Cariño?"
You reached out slowly. Traced down the soft curves of her angular face—forehead to nose, lips to chin—then cupped her cheek. You rested your own forehead against hers.
Neither of you spoke. Didn't need to. Your worry was evident but Sevika snorted. Her sigh tickled your cheek and lips. She peppered lazy kisses across your jaw, down the column of your neck, and back up to rest on your lips.
Simple reassurance.
Metal and flesh engulfed you and pulled you close until you settled your head back home on her chest. Warm fingertips traced the ridges of your spine—down, down, down—back to cup your ass and the back of your thigh.
"Just a reminder text from Ran. Still gotta be up in seven hours." Her voice deepened, a still-sleepy-growling-purr that rolled a shiver up your spine. "After we're done, I'm all yours."
You knew from experience and the nature of Sevika's line of work that she couldn't promise that. Still, her word was as good as gold. Phone communication could only tide you over for so long after a long and stressful week. You drifted off, mumbling to yourself and Sevika about how thankful you were to finally have time together.
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stvharrngton · 1 year
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"you know what we are. you just want to hear me say it." best friends to lovers steve ??? maybe fluff/comfort 🫶🫶
hi! it’s short but sweet but i hope you enjoy either way 🥺💖
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 1381
warnings: none, angst to fluff (the angst is very very minor), oblivious idiots in love, best friends to lovers
prompt: “What are we?” “You know what we are. You just want to hear me say it.”
taglist: @dukesmebby @saturnband @sweetbabygirlsworld
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The sun was setting, the sky a pretty mix of pinks and oranges. Clouds scattered across the airspace above the lake, the only noise to be heard was the chirping crickets and the dull hum of Robin’s radio down by the dock where she and Nancy sat.
Your place was atop the hood of the infamous Beemer, the one that belonged to your best friend, Steve. He was next to you, like always, knees knocking as you lay back against the windshield.
Wherever you were, Steve was never far away. Your friends always teasing playfully that Steve was like a lovesick puppy following behind you. Always asking when you were gonna get together. Naturally, you both always insisted that you were just friends. That there was nothing going on between you but that, just a friendship.
Not that you didn’t like Steve, of course you liked Steve, but you convinced yourself it could never happen. That he didn’t feel the same way and you couldn’t possibly jeopardise your friendship by coming clean.
Steve liked to make this incredibly difficult for you. The soft eyes from across the counter at Family Video, the lingering touches on the small of your back when you were in a crowd. The spot next to him on the small loveseat was always, exclusively, reserved for you at movie nights, the boy’s strong arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder. Hell, you even shared his bed when you stayed the night at his house.
But these were all totally normal things that best friends did, right?
You were disturbed from your daydream momentarily by Steve’s large hand placed on your knee. Your eyes skirted from the sky to the boy laying next to you, his face plastered with a confused but amused look on his face.
“Hey,” he whispered, “whatcha thinking about?”
“Hmm?” you replied, questioning whether or not to tell Steve your head was filled with thoughts about how kissable he looked right now, “Me? Oh, nothing.”
Steve rolled his eyes, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned up on his elbows, “Oh, come on. Don’t give me that,” he started, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “I can see the cogs whirring from here. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?”
You fought with your internal monologue whilst Steve stared at you with those honey brown eyes for what felt like eternity. The longer you didn’t answer the more Steve’s features changed from whimsical and teasing to that of concern and worry.
“Hey,” he spoke again, eyebrows pinched together as his hand came to cup your cheek, a touch that sent shivers down your spine, “what’s wrong, babe, hm? You can tell me.”
You’re not sure what did it, the concern that decorated his face or the soft touch of his calloused hands on your cheek but the words just fumbled past your lips,
“What are we, Steve?”
Steve looked like a rabbit caught in headlights, his hand still on your cheek but the minute movement of his thumb had all but stopped. Jaw slack as his mouth hung open a tad, lips moving only an inch as if he was trying to speak but couldn’t.
You turned your body into him now, eyes boring up at the boy you yearned for in your dreams. You regretted your decision to utter those words when Steve remained silent, grabbing his wrist as you shoved his hand back down by his side.
“Cat got your tongue, Stevie?” You taunted the boy with a roll of your eyes.
In a swift move to get yourself off the hood of the BMW and as far away from Steve as possible, he wrapped his large hand around your forearm, pulling you back next to him, “Hey, come on, wait, please?”
The silence somehow hurt more than the usual we’re just friends schtick but you stayed. You would always stay.
“Fine,” you grumbled, sitting up against the windshield.
“You know what we are. You just want to hear me say it.”
“God, Steve,” you laughed cynically, “is it a crime to ask for a little clarity?”
Steve could only shrug as he busied himself chewing on his bottom lip, “I just figured that, y’know, you just like, knew? Or whatever.”
“Knew what, Steve?” You guffawed, shock written all over your face at the words that were coming out of his mouth, “Come on, what are we?” You asked again.
Of course, Steve thought, of course you were oblivious about his feelings towards you. Oblivious to how crazy he was about you, madly and hopelessly in love with you, his best friend. Using any excuse to get close to you or to touch you.
Steve thought you were the prettiest girl on earth, that the sun and stars revolved around you. Your smile the most beautiful thing he’d seen, your laugh the only thing that could brighten up a bad day. You were it for Steve, the only girl in the world for him. There would never be anyone else.
“I just–I mean, we already act like a couple, I just figured–”
“Oh my God,” you cut him off with a chuckle, you almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing, “it would have been to have actually been asked Steve.”
Your heart was going a thousand miles a minute. Your head left spinning as Steve had practically admitted that he had feelings, that you were together. Albeit a little unorthodox, but all that mattered now was Steve.
You and Steve. Steve and you.
“You know, Nancy said you were a romantic.” You teased, a pout forming on your lips, “I was hoping for some big grand gesture when you asked me to be your girlfriend, Harrington.”
Steve exhaled a laugh, shaking his head at you, “Oh, you want romance, huh, sweetheart? That it? Wanna be whisked off your feet by me, honey?”
His hand came to cup your cheek once more now, thumb smoothing over the hot skin. His eyes boring into yours, Steve’s gaze flickered down to your lips as his tongue darted out to wet his own.
“Maybe,” you whispered as your fingers danced up along his bicep, fingers toying with the hem of his polo. Your eyes hopeful for what was to come, the butterflies in your stomach already erupting.
“I can do romance,” Steve murmured sweetly, voice rasp and low. A small smirk on his face as he lent into you, lips hovering a mere millimetre from your own. Your eyes fluttered closed as Steve pressed his lips to yours.
It was like fireworks with a hint of strawberry chapstick and cherry slushie all rolled into one. Steve’s lips were soft and slow, his hand on your cheek gentle and warm. It was a dream, really, you’d imagined this a thousand and one times but nothing you’d dreamt of would ever beat the real thing.
Steve Harrington was kissing you with his pretty pink lips and you weren’t imagining it this time.
You felt his nose press into your cheek as your fingers travelled into his soft brown locks, letting the strands glide between your digits. He hummed against your lips, his own forming into a smile as he pulled away from you slowly.
He pressed one, two more pecks to your lips before letting his nose brush against the slope of your own. His cheeks flushed and a dopey smile painted on his face. The boy was in heaven and he couldn’t help but let you know it.
“Jesus, Harrington! What took you so long?” You heard Robin yell from her perch on the dock, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles all whilst Steve groaned into your neck.
“Ignore her,” he mumbled against your skin at her teasing, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “so, you’ll be my girlfriend? I mean, you gotta after that mind-blowing kiss, surely.”
You swatted at his shoulder playfully, a bashful smile tugging at your lips, “I guess so,” you teased, “but you gotta take me on a date first, Harrington.”
Steve grinned as he leaned into you once more, noses nudging each other as his lips were barely touching your own, a whisper against your lips as he spoke,
“Deal.”
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Text
Moving (1/1) (jegulus | wolfstar)
"Sirius," Remus warned as he watched him getting worked up.
"No Moony-" Sirius began putting both his hands on the table and pushing himself up to stand.
"No?" Remus asked evenly, one eyebrow raised.
He watched Sirius thinking, the cogs turning in his head. "Ugggg" he groaned.
"Sweetheart just sit back down," Remus said patting his hand, and Sirius did as he was told.
"Wow tight leash there Lupin, I'm impressed," Regulus smirked.
"Don't you start too," James nudged Regulus from beside but was holding in a laugh. Even though he had watched the entirety of their relationship, watched as Remus became the boss and be able to tame and reign all the ebbs and flows of Sirius' moods, it was still funny sometimes to see it in action. No matter how destructive or peaceful Sirius thought he was being, the tides of Sirius Black were helpless to the control of the moon.
"Fine Reggie continue," Sirius gritted out.
"As I was saying," Regulus began equally as strained.
James put a hand on Regulus' thigh under the table, part to show him support and help calm him, but also to help calm him and make sure he didn't jump across the table and strangle his brother.
"You were saying how you are taking everything from me," Sirius muttered. Remus kicked him slightly under the table.
"Sirius I am not abandoning you, and if you would like to have that conversation it is not one you will win," Regulus' infamous cool threatening tone always silenced a room.
He basked in that control for a moment before he continued: "Siri, James and I are moving to France because we are adopting a little boy and his mother lives there. She isn't sure how much she wants to be involved, and as you know we are open to whatever family contact they want for him. We have the freedom to travel all we like, but they do not." Regulus explained finally, his rehearsed words only apparent to James with whom he had practiced them.
"And?" James said as he watched his best friends' faces fill with mix emotions of joy and sadness.
"And, there's a guest house at the new place just for you two." Regulus shared a bit reluctantly, even though James knew Regulus demanded they find a property with a small additional home just for his brother. Regulus would deny it if anyone asked though.
"A baby boy?" Remus asked, a smile bright on his face. Regulus and James both grinned and nodded their heads.
"Bambi!" Sirius said.
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When my cat is misbehaving, I threaten to give her hugs and kisses, until she runs and hides, so... TD Noah AU, where the ONLY thing that can truly scare Noah is getting hugged, kissed and shown affection in public... When Noah tries to skip the dodgeball challenge, Owen (his best friend) playfully threatens to cuddle Noah on the sidelines, unless Noah helps the team... Noah quickly agrees to help with a grumpy blush on his face... Alejandro thinks that this fact is hilarious! 😸
I can see this. Noah's got a reputation to uphold, after all. A reputation of being an insufferable know-it-all asshole, sure, but it's a reputation none the less. Letting people know that he likes being hugged? Mortifying. His worst fear- it goes against His Brand™.
Him being afraid of PDA, platonic romantic or otherwise, is a pretty funny idea when you consider the fact that his best friend Owen is more-or-less infamous for dragging people into his arms at the drop of a dime. He lives under the constant threat of an Owen-brand hug attack, anywhere, anytime, and that fact terrifies him.
Actually, in this scenario, I think Owen would be a little more conservative with his clinginess concerning Noah - he's not that inconsiderate, and he'd know that Noah's not a fan of public affection (but secretly just as much of a hugger as he is). Not that he's be any less tactile, he'd just be quicker to apologise for unthinkingly showing his best buddy his affections.
To bring it back to the Dodgebrawl episode:
By this point in the series, Noah and Owen have shared a cabin for (assumedly) six nights and had around a week to build their friendship. They're not as close as they are in World Tour, but that's more than enough time for Noah to know about Owen's cuddliness and, in turn, for Owen to know about Noah's physical evasiveness.
But, at this point I think Owen would be under the impression that Noah's entirely touch averse as opposed to just PDA averse. It's during this challenge that his initial assumption starts to shift towards the truth.
Owen notices that Noah's refusal to participate is getting him some negative attention from the rest of the team, and in a moment of quick thinking volunteers himself as the next person to sit out before Noah can make his "keeners" comment. Noah's a little ticked off by this, and tries to argue that Owen would be a more useful team member then him, but Owen comments something about Noah needing to get some team spirit via "motivational hugs" (or something along those lines) and suddenly Noah is very much okay with not going anywhere near Owen or the benches.
Curiously, Owen notices, Noah hesitates at his offer for a hug. For a moment he looked almost considerate, before his face flushes with embarrassment (which he staunchly denies afterwards, since Noah's adamant that he doesn't get embarrassed) and he vehemently denies needing one, quickly resigning himself to actually helping the team instead. It's just enough to get the cogs turning in Owen's mind; apparently, hugs work as negative reinforcement for Noah.
Owen's more than happy to abuse this fact to prompt Noah into actually trying during challenges. Talent show? Owen subtly threatens to hug Noah unless he, at the very least, tries to showcase a talent. Phobia Factor? Owen offers moral support via affection to motivate Noah into facing his phobia (whatever it may be) and the threat of being publicly coddled is enough to have Noah disregard his fear entirely and complete the challenge. Ect ect.
Owen has his suspicions, but things aren't cleared up for him until after Island is over and done with. Wherein Owen confronts Noah about the quirk he's pick up on, and Noah- now reassured that his every action isn't being recorded and potentially broadcast for the world to see- admits that he actually kind of likes being hugged, but doesn't like public displays of affection. It's a secret he'd only share with his best friend. So Owen promises to keep quiet about it (which as we all know isn't something Owen's very good at, but he tries his best) and resolves to save the majority of his tactile-ness for when they're in private.
Leading to World Tour, where Owen utilises this same trick he used in Island to have Noah pull his weight on the team. Like he's a border collie wrangling the world's grumpiest sheep.
Alejandro's quick to pick up on this repeated exchange, and quicker to connect the dots. Somehow, the threat of affection seems to motivate their laziest team mate into picking up his slack; of course he too takes advantage of this fact.
Noah, understandably, is pretty pissed off that two of his team members are now using his completely rational aversion towards PDA against him, and eventually snaps.
If it's Owen who tests his last line of patience, Noah would be a little more considerate in his confrontation. He'd ask why Owen's so intent on trying to smother him to death with hugs (especially when he knows that Noah doesn't like the public aspect of it), to which Owen would sheepishly answer that, whilst he's always been a pretty physically affectionate guy, he's also been using the threat of cuddles to motivate Noah into trying his best. Noah would be torn between being genuinely impressed by Owen's cunning and absolutely mortified that he's been playing into his best friend's scheme for so long. And Owen would reassure him that there's nothing for him to be embarrassed about and that he knows that Noah's "afraid of PDA" and Noah would outright deny that accusation because he's not afraid of PDA, that's absurd, he's just reasonably against it.
To which Owen would challenge him into proving he's not afraid, because he's a little shit who's intentionally tricking his best friend into giving him a goddamn hug. Which works, of course, since Noah's pretty prideful and wouldn't take an attack against his ego sitting down (which is something we see in his boy kissing denials in Haute Camp-ture), so Noah ends up being the one to initiate a hug with his chubby buddy. And Owen takes the opportunity to literally smother him in affection, and Noah quickly forgets his hesitance in his enjoyment of Owen-brand cuddles, at least until someone else walks in on the display and comments on the novelty of Noah actually letting someone else touch him.
The scene can play out however you want from there.
If it's Alejandro who breaks Noah's last straw the confrontation would be a little less cordial , Since Noah and Owen already have an understanding between them, whilst Alejandro just sort of jumped on the band wagon as he saw fit. Noah wouldn't appreciate the sudden change in behaviour and he's sharp enough to know exactly what Alejandro's playing at too- that is, using Noah's obvious aversion to PDA against him. It's a coin toss as to whether Noah figures out that both Owen and Alejandro are playing him, or if he just thinks that Alejandro is being a dick for the sake of, well, being a dick.
In this scenario, I imagine Noah either recoiling away from Alejandro trying to do something that just pushes the boundary between casual and overly friendly, like a one-armed hug or trying to hold his hand, and/or outright punching him away. Because he's not about that energy, and Alejandro's been testing both his boundaries and his patience for far too long.
So Noah would put his foot down, demanding to know why Alejandro keeps being so tactile with him. And Alejandro would in turn explain that he's just a touchy person, since he's shown a tendency for such in his many flirting attempts, and Noah would immediately call his bullshit because he knows that Alejandro only ever gets up close and personal with other people when he's trying to seduce them and- wait.
Is Alejandro trying to seduce him?
To which Alejandro immediately denies, because that really wasn't his intention at all, he was just utilizing Noah's avoidance towards physical touch to motivate him into being a better teammate- and he's just admitted his (and Owen's) whole scheme to the guy himself. As a result Noah is even more upset; not only is Alejandro making him uncomfortable, but he's knowingly doing so. As a strategy for the competition they're in.
Again, a small part of him is astounded by the play, but for the most part Noah's just incredibly pissed off. Alejandro tries to mitigate the situation by turning the absurdity on it back at Noah; why is he so against something as negligible as human contact? His prickliness is a detriment to himself and their team, Alejandro's simply doing him a favour by getting him accustomed to others' proximity. Is Noah really that scared of a hug?
And again, it plays out like the Owen situation where Noah denies being scared at all, because he's far too prideful for his own good, and Alejandro challenges him into letting himself be held and not punching him again because Alejandro is also too prideful for his own good and sees Noah's constant rejection of him as a direct insult to his charm.
Cue a scene where Noah irately subjects himself to actually hugging Alejandro as petulantly as possible, only for his secret love of physical affection to get the better of him.
Alejandro is surprised, to say the least, when the stiff and uncooperative form of Noah seems to melt in his arms after a few moments of their spite-fuelled hug. Thus Alejandro becomes the next victim of the Noahla Bear- a creature hellbent on trapping others in his vice-like embrace.
(And as a treat, maybe add in some touch-starved Alejandro here? Who's torn between the internal battle of "I should be doing something productive with this free time, not letting the resident twink cuddle me to death" and "yeah, but have you considered the fact that you've never felt this safe and secure in someone else's arms since you weren't held as a child?")
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markberries · 2 years
Text
stars in his eyes  ﹒  ml
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info﹕mark lee was originally just a name to you — until the day you found out you had many connections with him.
genre﹕fluff, angst, comedy, slowburn, mark x f reader, slight yeonjun x reader, annoying bsf jaemin, university au
wc﹕21k+
warnings﹕mentions of underage drinking
an﹕omfg its FINALLY done. PLEASE ENJOY
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when people hear the name mark lee, it’s almost as if a light bulb turns on in their head, the cogs of their brains rotating and immediately recognizing the infamous name. his heart was as big as his smile, although he was a little shy towards acquaintances, he has always been kind hearted and thoughtful towards everyone.
seeing mark lee was like an unspoken routine for people of your university; always late to his classes, people would see him running across campus, textbooks nearly falling out of his bag as he waved to friends he passed by. him being a music major, it wasn’t odd to see him sitting at a table on campus, headphones in his ears as he bounced his head to a song he was working on.
in all honesty, you had no connections to mark lee, or so you thought. he was just a name you knew, a face that you could point out in the crowd due to seeing the young man stumble throughout the uni halls. 
“oh my god, i’m so sorry,” a voice says to you as you make harsh contact with them, knocking you down to the ground. you let out a huff of frustration, the stranger holding out his hand for you to take.
you look up, eyes meeting a pair of chocolate brown ones that belong to mark lee. your mouth was slightly parted, staring up at the young man. you reach out to grab ahold of his hand, him pulling you up gently. you dust off your knees, the boy clearing his throat.
“again, sorry,” mark mutters out, picking up the items that had fallen out of your bag when you had dropped to the ground. 
“it’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing the built up saliva in your mouth. the boy looks back to you, squinting his eyes, before they widen again and his mouth forms into an ‘O’ shape.
“i know you,” he states. you lift a brow, adjusting the strap of your tote bag on your shoulder.
“do you?” you reply casually.
“yeah, um, you’re y/n, right? i’m not sure if you remember but we met in high school? senior year?”
you were never good with recognizing faces, or names, and mark’s name didn’t seem very unique to you. you thought hard, trying to remember him, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on how you two had met.
“we like, made out at san’s graduation party?”
your face went a bright red, and you fought back the urge to bury your face in your hands.
san’s graduation party was the first time you had actually drank, and the times that you’ve taken sips out of your parents’ drinks does not count. you weren’t much of a rulebreaker, but you were so happy to finally be out of hell, that you downed seven shots that night (with no previous experience of being drunk, as you were seventeen). the memory of the night was foggy, but you distinctly remembered pulling the hand of someone else to an empty room, and locking lips with them.
“oh my god,” you say to yourself, recalling the events in your brain as you deadpan at mark’s face, “that was you?”
at this point, he’s sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, and you silently wished that mark hadn’t mentioned the party at all. mark laughs awkwardly, “i had no idea that you went here.”
“yeah, to be fair, i had no idea we went to high school together,” your face was hot, a pink tint was spread across your cheeks from embarrassment.
mark used to be a tad shorter, with an evident baby face and chubbier cheeks. he still had that same baby face, but with an enhanced facial structure. it was no wonder why you hadn’t recognized him in the first place. 
“it’s alright,” he says to you, clearing his throat. he checks his phone for the time, then glances back up to you. 
“i should get going, i’m probably going to be late,” he mumbles, grasping at the straps of his backpack. you nod, not knowing what to say next.
“see you around, mark lee.”
the next moment that you bumped into mark lee was on a saturday afternoon, when you were leaving your apartment that you shared with your friend, jaemin. you had just locked the door, before turning around to see mark lee walking out of the elevator, grocery bags in his arms as he fumbled to get his keys out.
“mark?” you say, and he slightly jumps at the sound of your voice, eyes darting over to you. his hair is disheveled, a black hoodie pulled over his head as he stared out of his black rimmed glasses. he reminded you of a lost puppy, an extremely socially awkward one.
“oh– hey, uh, y/n,” he manages to get out, trying to make his way to his apartment that was two doors down from your own.
“you live here?” you ask, a surprised tone coating your voice.
“yeah, i do,” he replies, awkwardly trying to unlock his door without letting the groceries fall out of his hands. you glance down at his keys, then back to him. his eyebrows are furrowed in frustration as his lips are formed into a frown. 
“need help?” you finally say, and he looks over to you with pleading eyes. 
“please?”
you walk over to him, taking the keys from his hands and quickly unlock the front door for him (you also take notice of the watermelon doormat that was under your feet), holding it open as he waddles in quietly, placing the groceries on the ground next to him so he can turn back to you.
“thanks a lot.. i would invite you inside but, it’s kind of a mess right now,” he admits, and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head and telling him it’s fine. 
“welp,” you finally say, offering a kind smile to him. “guess we’ll be seeing much more of each other?”
mark thanks you once again, before softly closing the door as you walk away from his apartment. you exhale, eyes lingering on his front door for a short amount of time. you then turn back towards the elevator, pressing the down button, the arrow on the silver button lighting up a dim red.
maybe it had been too soon to say you had no connections with mark lee.
the third, unplanned meet up with mark lee was in the city public library, twenty-four hours later. you were tracing your fingers along the covers of sappy romance novels, searching for something new to indulge in for the next few weeks. you had read some of the classics, me before you, the fault in our stars, pride and prejudice, you felt as if the list went for hours.
reading for you was like time travelling or living another life (as it is for countless others), and you enjoyed the bubbly feeling that grew within the depths of your stomach when the main character and love interest finally got together. 
the romances that lay in the books you have read, was much different than the love stories you could tell about your life. in your opinion, dating was like work. finding someone you took an interest in, learning about them, developing trust together, only to not work out in the end, and then starting all over. it was a vicious cycle that you never took pleasure in partaking in, and you settled with the fact that maybe it was better to wait.
you had some experience with relationships, your first post-secondary boyfriend was a business major named jung jaehyun. he was handsome, kind, and not to mention he was awfully popular with the ladies. the one thing people did not warn you about before entangling your life with jaehyun’s, was how dedicated he was to school, and what he was willing to give up for it.
as most people can guess, jaehyun had ended it with you almost five months into your relationship, saying you were too distracting from his classes. you were never the type to try and interfere with someone’s life goal, so you didn’t fight the break up. 
relationships in university wasn’t your thing, after that. you believe that it was better for you to finish your studies, and then figure out what to do with your dating situation.
the love that was in books was so deceiving, yet so beautiful. they left everyone with high standards and unachievable objectives, so when your hand grazed against that of mark lee’s when reaching for the book, the time traveler’s wife, you nearly laugh at the cliche moment that usually only appears in that of a romance novel.
“oh sorry— y/n?” his voice chirps out, retracting his hand away from yours. you take the book off of the shelf, then you turn, looking at him.
“mark, hey,” you smile, holding the book out to him. “did you want this?”
“no, it’s okay,” he shakes his head, pushing the book gently towards your chest, returning the smile on your face with his own. “just looking around.”
“what brings you here?” you ask, attempting to make small talk with him. he begins pointing towards one of the library tables where a couple of boys, around your age, sat.
“my friends wanted me to come study with them, i ended up finishing up the assignments i needed done, got bored and decided to check out the romance aisle.” his eyes wander to his friends, then back to you. “funny how we keep meeting like this, though.”
you hum in agreement, wondering how many times you would be running into mark lee this week. 
“any recommendations?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the wooden shelving. you take a moment to scan the other books around you, before your eyes land on paper towns by john green. you swiftly pull the book out with a single movement, handing it to him.
“this is a good one for beginners,” you comment, and he stares at the cover for a small moment, but he’s quick to look back at you. mark felt like an open book to you, even if you barely knew the boy. his face went neutral, as if he was thinking hard, but then he began to speak, filling the short lived silence.
“could you listen to a song for me?” he blurts out, and your eyes widen out of surprise. 
“it’s like— a song i’m writing for composition, i need an unbiased opinion, and my friends would be too nice to say anything mean.”
“and what makes you think i’ll say something mean?” you ask, almost in a teasing manner. he begins jumbling up his words, obviously a little bit flustered.
“um, sorry, i didn’t mean it like that, it’s just that we don’t really know each other—“
you laugh, placing a hand on mark’s shoulder, “i’m kidding. you can show it to me today, if you want.”
mark lets out an audible sigh of relief, then pulls out his phone from his jacket pocket. he unlocks it, opening the contacts app and giving the phone to you. you quickly punch in your information, handing it back to him with a smile.
“just text me whenever, and i can come over to listen.”
mark nods, putting his phone away again. “right, forgot that we’re practically neighbours. i’ll text you later then.”
the air becomes quiet again, mark’s grip on the book you handed him becomes tighter as he inhales sharply. “i should get back to my friends.”
“oh yeah,” you reply back, straightening out the wrinkles on your skirt. “i have to get back home as well.”
mark clears his throat, “see you later?”
“yeah, see you later,” you say, your eyes forming into small crescents.
you sat up in your bed, back resting against the cold, wooden headboard. your eyes were fixed on the words that were printed of your newly checked out book — a soft tune playing from your laptop in the background, lyricless for the sake of keeping you focused, but still calming. 
there’s a small amount of light peeking through your white window blinds, emitting from the pink and orange sunset. it set the serene mood for you, and it made it easier for you to pay attention to the novel that sat in your hands.
you tap your fingers on the book cover to the beat of the music. you cherished the days that you could sit back and relax without any disruptions, as any normal person would. there’s a small breeze that flows throughout your room through the small crack of your open window, whistling it’s way through the space. 
sadly, your perfect afternoon was ruined as your roommate, na jaemin, bursts through the door.
“what are you doing?” he asks casually, waltzing in with no care. he takes a seat at your white desk, bag of chips in hand. 
you sigh, taking a mental note of the page you were on, before placing the book down on your night stand. “reading. you ever knock?”
jaemin gives you a sly smile at the comment, “i never knock with you.”
“yeah, i know, still hoping that it’ll change,” you remark, crossing your arms over your chest. “so, what do you need?”
jaemin had been your roommate for nearly two years now, and you had grown accustomed to his shenanigans within the small household. he just loved gaining attention from you, and often asked you to hang out with him. you didn’t mind, but you would act like you did.
“wanna go see a movie later? i’m bored and have no plans,” he asks, chewing his snack loudly. you roll your eyes.
“cry about it, i promised mark lee that i would listen to a song he’s working on for a project of his,” you inform jaemin, and he snickers in response. 
“mark lee the music major? you two have something going on there? i’ve never seen you two together,” he tells you. you throw a pillow at him, smiling in victory when it hits him in the face. 
“no, we don’t. i just found out that we were old acquaintances, that’s all. i barely know the guy, we’ve only had like, a few conversations.”
“yeah, okay, whatever you say,” jaemin snorts. you throw another pillow at him, but this time, he dodges it. you hear a “ding” from your phone, and you’re quick to check it.
unknown number [5:27pm] hey, mark here
“who’s that?” jaemin asks, walking over so he can plop down onto your bed beside you, back against your headboard as well. he leans over, in an attempt to check the message.
“it’s mark,” you answer, earning a couple of eyebrow wiggles from him. you narrow your eyes at him, deciding whether you should ignore jaemin or hit his arm. you choose the latter, making him yelp in surprise. you stick your tongue out at him.
you [5:28pm] hi, what’s up?
mark [5:28pm] did you want to come over now? my roommate isn’t home
“ooh, his roommate isn’t home,” jaemin coos at you. you look over at him with a glare.
“wanna get hit again?”
“sorry!”
you [5:29pm] sure, just give me a little. ill be over in a sec
mark [5:29pm] okay :)
you sigh, getting up from your bed and grabbing a pair of white socks from a bin beside it, slipping them on.
“you’re gonna spend time with mark instead of me?” jaemin pouts, obviously trying to act cute. you cringe at him, throwing on a dark green hoodie.
“i would choose anyone over you,” you say jokingly, making jaemin try his best to pout harder at you. you make a fake puking noise, before heading out of your bedroom, towards the front door.
you slip on a pair of black slides, leaving your apartment and walking a few rooms down to mark’s suite. you knock a few times, hearing a bunch of rustling behind the white door shortly after. there’s the sound of footsteps, then the door unlocks and swings open. there he was, mark lee in all his might, standing in grey sweatpants and a white tee. he’s wearing the same round black rimmed glasses, the same glasses that you barely saw him wear at school.
“y/n,” he greets you with a smile on his face as he holds the door open for you, motioning for you to come in. his apartment was the exact same layout as your own, only it was much more minimalistic compared to your shared one with jaemin. you enter, taking your shoes off at the front.
there was not much to it, no paintings hanging from the white walls, no plants lying around, it was just a simple apartment. you walk further in, following close behind mark as he made his way to his own room. you bite your lip, asking yourself if it was weird to be in mark’s house.
when mark brought you to his room, you were amazed with the sudden change of atmosphere it held. he had smart lights on his walls, the type of smart lights that were shaped into triangles. they glowed a soft hue of blue, and he had instruments scattered around the area. 
two monitors for his computer sat on his desk, with a regular white keyboard, and a piano keyboard. he sat down in his chair, but not before pulling up a second, smaller chair, next to him. he pats the area, signalling for you to sit.
you happily oblige, taking a seat next to him. he makes a few clicks with his mouse, opening an application on his computer. you watch him diligently, staying silent as you didn’t want to distract him. finally, he turns to you, a black headset that was connected to his computer in his hands. he hovers it over the top of your head, before bringing it down to place it over your ears.
“tell me if it’s too loud, okay?” he says kindly. you nod your head, giving him a thumbs up. he takes it as an okay to start playing the song, and quickly presses the space bar with a loud “click” of the keyboard. 
when the music starts playing, mark eyes you carefully, looking for any sort of reaction out of you. he’s leaned back on his chair, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. you shyly smile at the attention he gives you, but you stay on task. you cross your left leg over the right, taking the headphones and pressing them closer to your ears.
the melody starts off soft, fading in from the background. it reminds you of the type of music you would hear in a pretty cafe, or something you would find in jaemin’s “chill” spotify playlist. then, the beat grows louder, but the escalation seems perfect to you. you anticipate a beat drop, sitting on the edge of your seat as you stare at the screen in front of you.
then finally, when the beat drops fifteen seconds in, mark’s voice comes onto the track. he’s singing in a low voice. you never would have imagined that mark had a singing voice in him. it was smooth and it made you bop your head to the beat. 
then, his rap came. it flowed so effortlessly, as if he didn’t even need to try. at this point, you were tapping your foot to the song and nodding your head, wishing you knew the lyrics so you could sing along. mark smiles at your genuine reaction, the feeling of nervousness seemingly overcoming him as he straightens his posture in his chair.
the audio mix was balanced, mark’s voice fitting well with the aesthetically themed music. it was soft and it was just him rapping and singing about the hardships in life, but it didn’t stop you from being astonished by how much talent the clumsy boy had.
you hadn’t noticed that you were smiling when the song had ended, a small one, but nonetheless authentic. you slowly removed the headset from your head, placing it on the desk in front of you. 
“honest opinion?” mark asks, wincing to prepare himself for any backlash he could possibly receive from you. 
“it was amazing,” you gush, bewildered by how he wasn’t famous yet. his face lights up, cheeks turning pink.
“your voice is just— wow. seriously, post this somewhere, to youtube or something.”
mark begins growing a tad shy from the shower of compliments you begin handing to him, and you can’t believe how humble he is. he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, a habit you noticed he had, his lips curling up into a smile.
“you really think so? you’re the only person i’ve shown this to.. so..”
“i’m serious,” you deadpan, beginning to stand up from your spot. “i could listen to this song all day.”
mark follows your actions, walking you towards the front door as you continue to give him feedback the entire way there. you slip your shoes back on, and he opens the door for you again.
“thanks for doing this y/n, it really means a lot,” he says to you, leaning against the door to hold it steady.
“any time.”
when you arrive back to your apartment seconds later, you admit to yourself that there’s a lot more to mark lee than what meets the eye. you find yourself a bit intrigued by his gentle and clumsy demeanour, wondering if he was still the same person when it came to being his friend or not. 
“that was a short date,” jaemin’s voice calls out loudly from his room. you rub your temples with your fingers, eyes closed while you kick your slides off. you let out a small “tch”, walking to your bedroom.
“it wasn’t a date!”
two days later, you tapped your foot against the concrete inside your university building, sipping on your third hot coffee of the day. your laptop sat in front of you, two words typed across the screen for your two thousand word essay that was due tonight, at 11:59 pm. you were growing extremely fidgety as the volume of people’s voices kept increasing in your head.
your professor for your premodern japan class had never been the type to be flexible when it came to assignments, which made the fact that you forgot about your essay even worse. you were on the verge of biting your nails off, caffeine coursing through your veins. 
you feel a tap on your shoulder, making you jump in your seat to look at the culprit. mark is taken back from your actions, backing up a bit. 
“you good?” he asks, and you nod at him.
“i’m fine, you just scared me. that’s all.”
“oh,” he purses his lips, taking a seat across from you. he places his backpack beside himself, and you watch him the entire time. he notices, freezing.
“sorry, did you not want company?” 
you shake your head, taking a sip of your coffee again. “no, that’s okay. you can sit here if you want.”
he smiles, pulling out his own laptop from his bag and setting it on the table. he plugs in his white apple earbuds in silence, but then opens his mouth to speak again.
“i just want you to know that it really means a lot that you enjoyed my song, and you said that you would listen to it on repeat so.. i sent it to you.”
your eyes light up, and you rush to pull out your phone from your bag. you turn it on, and just like mark had said, he had sent you the audio file just eleven minutes earlier. 
“oh— thank you, now i can listen to this until i get sick of it,” you tease, emailing the file to yourself so you could upload it onto your computer. he sends you a shy smile, looking down in his lap. 
“you’re really nice,” mark states, in a small voice. it’s cute. it was similar to that of an elementary school kid, when they would ask someone to be friends with them. 
“thank you,” you beam, “you’re not so bad yourself.”
the air thickens as it fills with silence once again, the sound of mark’s and your fingers typing at your laptops louden. you were switching between writing your essay and harshly gulping down your caffeinated drink. you decide that reading stories is much different than writing your own, and it irritates you.
at this point, you’re biting on the inside of your cheek anxiously, the coffee making you much more jittery. you’re snapped away from your thoughts when you hear a voice call out mark’s name from behind you, his eyes shooting up to the sound. a girl walks up to him, she was tall and had the legs of a model.
“morning,” she chirps. you eye the two, watching as they interact and how mark’s face turns pink, but you’re quick to return to your assignment. 
“hey,” mark greets her back. “what’s up?”
“nothing really, just wanted to say hi,” she replies, her voice high and filled with positivity. she was pretty — extremely pretty, the type of girl that most people would grow insecure from just looking in her general direction. 
“oh,” he nods, “by the way, this is a friend of mine, y/n.”
she looks over to you, a bright smile on her face. the apples of her cheeks were prominent, along with her defined cheekbones. “nice to meet you, i’m yoojung.”
“hello,” you greet back, trying your best not to seem rude. 
“we’re still on for tonight, right?” mark’s question is directed to yoojung, so you don’t pay attention to what they say.
“of course. i’m gonna go now, talk soon!” she waves goodbye to mark and you, walking off towards the exit of the establishment. when she leaves, you smirk at mark.
“girlfriend?” you ask him, and he shakes his head.
“i wish.”
you left the study hall nearly two hours later, after the short conversations and small “get to know each other” with mark. it was fun, getting to talk to him. you had learned that a friend had persuaded him into becoming a music major, and it didn’t take long for mark to realize he loved what he was doing. 
mark and you ended up leaving together, settling that it was entertaining to have the presence of another around. the building you two lived in was walking distance from the university, so it took you two around fifteen minutes to arrive.
“i’m home,” you announce, shaking off your oversized black button up leather jacket. you open up the messy closet a few steps away from the door, taking a coat hanger and putting your jacket up. your sweaters and coats were the only items hanging up in there — jaemin usually just threw his jacket on the back of a chair, calling it a day.
“hi, honey,” jaemin flirts, in a joking manner. you scrunch your nose up as you walk farther into your apartment, towards the shared living room, where jaemin sat.
“that was disgusting,” you tell him, making him giggle. you wish you could say that this behaviour coming from jaemin was irregular, but it was something he did on a daily basis. being na jaemin’s best friend and roommate meant having to deal with his playful shenanigans everyday, and there have been numerous times where you have felt second hand embarrassment from his constant attitude.
“would you prefer another pet name?”
“i would like it if you called me by my first name,” you tell him, placing your white tote bag on the dining room table beside the living room. you take out your computer, charging cable, and phone, only to find that your wallet was missing. you rummage further, searching through the random nearly empty gum packages and varieties of lip balm that you had for safe keeping.
“shit,” you mutter, letting out a huff of frustration. must have dropped it while walking home.
you begin to grow a bit worried, not wanting to deal with cancelling your current credit card and debit card due to the loss of your wallet. you barely carried around cash unless it was absolutely necessary, but you had still lost your id, license, and other numerous cards.
“be right back,” you say to jaemin, fast-walking back to the front door. it should be fairly easy to find your missing item if no one had taken it, as you took the same route to and from the uni. you hope that people had enough human decency to at least leave the wallet where it was, but you knew that was rare.
you swing your door open in a hurry, only to be met with the face of the same black haired boy who you had hung out with earlier. his hand was in the form of a fist, as if he was preparing to knock. his eyes are wide, stuttering out a sentence out of surprise.
“mark?” you question, squinting your eyes. you eye the ground around him, trying to check if your wallet was at his feet.
“um, i was just coming over to ask if you wanted to come see a movie with me? the girl i wanted to go with cancelled on me, and all my friends are busy so..”
“i’m sorry, but i kind of lost my wallet and i need to find it right-“
“oh,” mark’s eyes light up, reaching into the back pocket of his black jeans, pulling out your lavender coloured wallet, decorated with white embroidered flowers, “is this yours?”
“oh my god,” you exclaim as he hands it to you, “where did you find it?”
“i found it right now, outside of the elevator when i was coming over,” he explains to you, nodding his head.
“thank you so much,” you say, and he assures you that it was no big deal.
“so,” he starts, the tips of his ears turning pink. “did you want to tag along? i understand if you don’t.”
you stop to think for a short moment, one thing you hated was how socially awkward you were around people you barely knew. you were never good at maintaining conversation for a long period of time, and your social battery ran out way too quickly. it was the reason why you didn’t have many close friends, and it made you wish you were as outgoing as someone like, jaemin.
“hm,” you pause, maybe it wouldn’t be that weird. you had already spent ‘quality’ time with mark, if you could even call it that. it would be nice to have another friend. 
“what movie?” 
mark’s eyes and nose crinkle as his lips form into a smile. “it’s a horror movie, hope you don’t mind?”
“okay, i’ll go. what time does it start?”
“uh, in like 30 minutes.”
luck was on your side tonight. the time you spent with mark was anything but tense. it was different, compared to the study session you two had earlier in the day. you two shared a number of similarities and interests, and you found that mark held a talent for making you laugh. not to mention how contagious his own was.
horror movies never were your thing. you forgot how easily spooked you were, and how high your senses were while watching them. every little thing made you jump, whether it was the slightest sound or shortest scene. mark, on the other hand, seemed unphased. he had sat there for a majority of the time, shoving popcorn and snacks into his face.
“dude, i’m surprised we didn’t get kicked out,” mark laughs at you, making you lightly smack his shoulder.
“i can’t help it — i’m just not good at keeping quiet while watching scary things,” you explain to him, trying to justify why you screamed during the jump scare. you two exited the theatre together, mark still eating some of the leftover popcorn. 
“i wouldn’t have brought you if i knew you were gonna scream that loud.”
“shut up,” you retort sharply, rolling your eyes in his direction.
“i’m kidding!”
when you two make your exit together, the sky was already dark. it would have been much prettier if the street lights weren’t drowning out the twinkle of the stars. the warm summer breeze is gentle when making contact with your skin, making you inhale deeply. the faint sound of car engines revving makes up for the quiet walk towards mark’s car, and you notice that you two had a habit of going silent while together.
you also notice how mark’s eyes glisten under the dimly lit lights, and there’s something about it that you find deeply attractive. you’re able to shake off the thoughts quickly as you two enter his car, because you had never been the type to crush on someone you barely knew.
“something wrong?” mark checks on you, catching sight of you zoning out. your eyes snap from your hands that were fiddling in your lap, to mark’s face. 
“no, just thinking,” you smile, and he nods his head in understanding. from sitting next to mark lee, you’re able to point out the simplest things about him; his honey smooth skin, sprinkles of light that shined in his eyes, and the lone eyelash that sat on his cheek. you don’t say anything, though. it’s better that way.
during the next four weeks, mark lee’s presence takes a toll on your life. for the better, that is.
he insists that you two should study more together, commenting that you were much quieter while focused compared to his group of friends. you were a bit reluctant about it, still not the bestest friends with him, but you felt bad and gave in. the sessions were barely held at school or a library, it was usually just in either his or your apartment.
jaemin would not stop complaining about how much time you ended up spending with mark, constantly whining for not giving as much attention to him. you would always pull his hair and tell him to shut up, though. 
mark enjoyed walking to his and your tuesday and wednesday morning classes, stopping by to grab coffees before reaching the school. you two would part ways, then meet up after class to walk back home. it was like an unsaid ritual between the two of you.
during the time you two spent together, you observed the way you both opened up to each other. he would become more giddy, while you would drop sarcastic comments off the tip of your tongue.
“how bad was my kissing in high school?” mark drops the question casually, laying in your bed with his phone in his hands. his eyes wander to your own, while you nearly spit out the water you were sipping.
you recall the event, even though you wished you hadn’t — mostly because you wanted to forget. it was an embarrassing and low moment for you, grabbing the hand of a stranger and making such intimate contact with him. as stated before, you were not a rule breaker, or a “wild one”, as most say. you usually stayed within your comfort zone, and you liked it that way.
“i, um,” you stutter. he gives you a goofy grin, very interested in hearing your response.
“it wasn’t amazing, but it wasn’t bad.. does that make sense?”
he sits up, placing his arms behind him to hold himself up. he tilts his head to the side, the dark green tee he had decided to wear today complimenting his eyes. 
“huh? what does that even mean?”
“i don’t know, i can’t remember that much!”
you swallow. that was a lie. you do remember, you remembered it because you had been thinking about it for a couple of days. you don’t know why, though. you have no idea what could be the cause of why you kept thinking about how mark’s hands had roamed your body that night, not removing any clothing, but still erupting butterflies in your stomach. you spent minutes trying to remember what mark’s lips had tasted of, before you settled on cherry. his hair was messy and the music playing outside was muffled by the walls surrounding you two. if someone hadn’t come in that night, knocking softly on the door, you don’t know what would have happened.
“was i really not that memorable?” mark asks with a frown, and you shake your head. 
“alright,” he sighs and shrugs his shoulders, laying back down onto the bed with a thump of your mattress. 
mark’s phone makes a loud “ding”, vibrating in his hands. you twirl a pen around your fingers, rereading the neat notes you took for your social development program. 
“who’s that?” you ask, eyes still remaining on your paper as you revise it carefully. you’re slouched against your chair, already growing bored.
“yoojung,” mark replies. your lips tighten, an unwanted feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. an unseen sour expression forms on your face as you shove the emotion back down, crossing your legs. 
you hum in understanding, unable to keep repeating your tedious study sheet. you weren’t able to fathom why mark had seemed so alluring for the past couple of days. with each passing day, you found your feelings becoming increasingly intolerable. 
you aren’t aware that mark is getting out of your bed, throwing his hoodie over his slender frame in a hurry to leave. it isn’t until he’s tapping his finger at the edge of your desk, looking down at you. you blink a few times, focusing your attention to him.
“i’m gonna go pick up yoojung,” he tells you, “her car broke down.”
you nod your head, not saying a word. it isn’t needed, nor did you want to. mark pats your shoulder, signalling a goodbye. he exits your room, closing the door behind him.
you let out a heavy breath when he leaves, groaning to yourself. you stand up from your rolling chair, a squeak coming from the wooden floorboards. you allow yourself to fall face first onto your bed, mark’s scent filling your nose. you scrunch your face up, turning around so your back is against the mattress.
you never liked being in a place where you liked someone, especially when it was someone you so badly did not want feelings for. they took millennias for you to get rid of, and they always gave you a constant want to be with them. you huff, shoving a pillow in your face, having an odd desire to want to yell. you didn’t want to have the image of his brown eyes engraved in your memory, or the fluttering of your stomach that you hid whenever mark would send you a smile.
one thing about you was that you were good at telling people how you felt. throughout the years of high school, you would blurt out confessions to your crushes whenever you felt a faint tug of your heart strings when thinking about them. it was easier that way, it meant if they felt the same way, you could try. on the other hand, if they didn’t, it would be exceptionally easier to rid yourself of your unrequited emotions.
so you ask yourself now, why are you so afraid of telling mark?
was it because you weren’t in high school anymore and that you were supposed to look at relationships more seriously? was it because you were afraid of his answer?
minutes pass as you stay deep in thought. was it because you didn’t want to lose mark for something as petty and small as a crush? or was it because you knew that he felt something for another?
you stare at the ceiling with a neutral expression resting on your face. that was the worst part, knowing that mark liked yoojung. you were already awaiting inevitable rejection from his end, and it was frustrating. you knew it was cruel to want yoojung to be a bad person, so you could tell mark about how awful she was. in truth, she was one of the most attractive and sweetest people you had ever met. 
what wasn’t there to like about her? more importantly, how come mark and her weren’t together yet? you swore that they acted like they were made for each other. the feeling of self pity begins to engulf you, the irony of the truth feeling too unreal.
you desperately wished that life was like a paperback that sat on the white bookshelf in your room. it would have been so much easier if it was fiction, if your life was just lines of ink. reality was bitter, always leaving you unsatisfied. oh, what you would give to be a woman living her dreams on a couple hundred of pages. but that’s all books were; fabrications, illusions, all they did was offer company to the plants that sat beside them on your shelving.
you take the airpods off of your white night stand, opening the case and putting them in your ears. you grasp your phone in your hands, clicking on the familiar file of mark’s song. your eyes linger towards your window, the dark night sky reflecting in your orbs.
you know mark would be an amazing partner, he came off so extremely shy at first, yet he had always been gentle. his eyes always lit up when he saw yoojung, greeting her with a wave of his hand and a bashful smile. he never failed to be interested in what yoojung had to say, ears always perked up when she began speaking. you would often tease him about it, but he never seemed to mind.
you dream of mark lee that night, humming to the sound of his voice, hoping to wake up to the same mark that appeared in your imagination. 
“y/n,” jaemin’s voice says your name in a sweet, sing-song, sickening way. you open your eyes slowly, the sudden view of sunlight giving you a headache. you hear the faint sound of your alarm ringing from under your pillow, the annoyingly loud default iphone noise spreading the pain in your skull. 
“what?” you say groggily, sitting up and reaching to hit the snooze button, memorizing where it was put after having to hear the noise for years. you close your eyes again, falling back onto your bed. 
“don’t you have a morning class today? it’s tuesday,” jaemin reminds you. you open your right eye, scowling at him standing in the doorway.
“i don’t feel like going,” you put it out for him simply. “i’ll just ask someone else to send me notes on the lecture.”
you rarely ever missed class. the only time you had ever failed to attend a lesson was when you were deathly sick. you take a guess that your mood had dropped significantly because of how stressed you were, mark lee never leaving your thoughts. 
“really? better tell that to mark, he’s waiting for you,” jaemin informs you. you groan in annoyance, shoving the covers off of you. yawning, you sluggishly begin walking towards the front door. 
mark’s hair is styled neatly, sporting a simple white t-shirt and black basketball shorts, a black and white nike windbreaker topping off today’s look. his eyebrows scrunch up when he sees you in your pajamas.
“i’m not going,” you state. 
mark tilts his head, “why not? are you okay?”
“i’m tired.” 
that wasn’t a lie, you were tired. tired of longing for a boy that didn’t see you in the light you saw him, tired of trying to convince yourself that you just felt lonely and you were just making up your feelings in your head. 
“okay then.. i’ll visit you later?”
you lazily nod your head, eyes already beginning to close again. mark looks as if he’s worried, but you were already on your way back to your bedroom, having the desire to crawl into bed and wrap the covers around your body. you murmur to yourself the entire way there, cursing yourself out and stomping simultaneously.
“what’s wrong?” jaemin’s voice asks, half concerned, half curious. he’s already placing himself next to you when you inch your way back under your blankets. you don’t look at him, but you can tell he’s burning holes into the back of your head.
“nothing,” you grumble, bringing your bed sheets up to your chin. 
“sure,” jaemin says, sarcasm dripping off of his voice. “not like this is the first time you’ve played hooky in years.”
you remain quiet, staring at nothing.
“what is up with you today?” he asks again. you never talked to jaemin about your boy problems, and you sure as hell did not want to start now. the only issue was you knew jaemin would never stop nagging you until you told him something close to the truth. you still don’t talk, you just want to rest your eyes and sleep for the entire day.
“hello? you gonna answer me?” jaemin starts poking at your uncovered cheeks continuously. he’s gentle enough to not hurt you, but irritating enough to make you want to bite his finger off. “this have anything to do with mark?”
it sounded so childlike when you thought about it. not having the energy to attend a class because you were stressed about a boy. if a girl friend of yours had told you the same story, you would brush it off with a shrug. you wearily rub your eyes with a yawn.
“yeah.”
“i knew it.”
you click your tongue in annoyance. you turn your body, laying on your left side instead of your right to see jaemin’s face. 
“so, you like him? are you going to tell him?” he nudges you with a slight, close-lipped smile. you shake your head.
“there’s no point,” you sigh, “he likes someone else.”
“oh,” jaemin responds in a quiet voice. 
“yep.”
“do you know who?” he asks. 
“yeah, kim yoojung,” you tell jaemin. he can’t help but feel sorry for you, emotionally exhausted while lying in bed.
“i see.”
jaemin shuffles his way out of your room, quietly closing the door behind him. you stare into space for a bit. you felt like an idiot, upset about an unrequited crush for a boy you had only known for a month.
you feel even more pathetic when images of mark fill your empty mind. your feelings for mark were the aftertaste you gained after eating something strong, like onions or garlic. it made you scrunch up your nose and cringe, wishing you had eaten something else. 
god, did you wish you liked someone other than mark lee.
mark wasn’t lying when he said he would be visiting you later that day. he comes knocking on your door with a drink tray holding two hot coffees in his hand, a few pages of paper in the other. you forgot how good-natured mark had always been, even if he was an introvert.
“hi— oh, mark,” you squeak in surprise, holding the door for him to come in. he steps inside your apartment, taking his shoes off at the front. 
“hope you’re feeling better,” mark pipes, setting the coffee on the counter as you follow behind him. “that’s a white mocha, you like those right?”
he turns around, handing you the pages of paper. “these are your notes from your missed classes, um i knew people in there and i just thought it was pretty convenient.”
your heart beats within your chest, taking the papers from his hand. 
“thank you, you really didn’t have to.”
“it’s fine,” he smiles reassuringly. you hate this, how mark had no clue what he was doing. it felt like a false sense of hope he was sending your way, making your breath hitch. 
“no, seriously, you—”
“i know that you don’t enjoy the hassle of asking around for stuff like this,” he replies. you bask in mark’s presence for a short moment, his casual wear looking oddly attractive today. it makes you feel bad about the oversized hoodie you stole from jaemin and the baggy sweats you were wearing.
you sit down, laying out the sheets of lined paper on the dining room table, analyzing the writing carefully. mark takes a seat next to you, sipping on his own coffee as he watches you. he inclines closer to you, trying to read the writing for himself.
“looks complicated,” he observes, his breath hitting the back of your neck as he leans over you, causing you to straighten out your posture, letting out a cough. he returns back to his position, looking at you with worrisome eyes.
“do you have a cold?” he asks you, searching for any signs of sickness. you shake your head no, exhaling softly.
“no, just had an itch in my throat, that’s all.”
he places the back of his hand against your forehead, scrunching his eyebrows up. your current situation appeared as if you would find it in the kdramas that jaemin spent so much of his time playing on the television of your living room. you rarely paid attention to them, sneering at him when he would beg you to watch one with him.
you never understood the fuss about it, but now you knew what it was like to be the main character of one. it was disgustingly heartwarming as you avoid locking eyes with mark as he retracts his hand.
“yeah, i’m no doctor but your temperature is fine,” he nods, sipping on his coffee again. 
“how’s yoojung?” you finally speak up, not knowing what else to talk about. plus, you were weirdly curious of how she was doing.
“she’s good,” he tells you with a sheepish smile on his face. you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. “not much going on with her, they did take her car into the shop, though.”
“really? for how long?”
“hm,” he hums with a half shrug, “not really sure, but it shouldn’t be for that long. i offered to drive her around until her car gets fixed, but she said no.”
“sounds like yoojung,” you say, gritting your teeth with a closed mouth.
“should i just tell her how i feel?” mark asks out of the blue. you shift in your spot uncomfortably, but mark is too deep in thought to notice. you pause, only to quickly clear your throat.
“go for it,” you chuckle, a fake smile spread across your face. 
inaudible shaky breaths are leaving your mouth, only out of agitation. the rain outside pitters, droplets of water racing down the window panes quietly. you’re stuck between the ideas of just coming clean to mark or watching him pursue his own feelings. it was so clear that mark was interested in one girl, and one girl only. the only outcome that you had within this game was a losing one, either no longer having mark as a friend, or suffering with unreciprocated feelings in private.
none of the endings seemed appealing to you. you were beginning to wonder if you should just go out and start dating again, but the very thought of the idea seemed childish. you weren’t in high school anymore, so having feelings like this just felt immature.
“is there any new music i can look forward to hearing from you?” you question. 
“maybe,” mark raises his eyebrows twice, “just thinking of a name for a new track. wanna have a listen and help me with the naming process?”
you roll your eyes with a playful smile, extending your hand. he grins back, unlocking his phone and opening the file. he places his phone in your hand, and you’re quick to press play. the melody was slower, compared to the first song he showed you. it was less of computer generated beats, and more of actual instruments. the strum of a guitar welcomes you with open arms, the notes lower pitched and calming.
you inhale deeply as mark’s familiar voice begins singing, the lyrics of the song coincidentally being about a boy who loved someone who did not love him back. you prop your chin on your hand, your expression neutral compared to someone who felt like crying out of self pity.
you tap your foot to the beat, looking down at the table. 
you pause the song, placing mark’s phone on the table. he looks at you with confused eyes, worried that you may not like what he made.
“did it sound bad? it was the beat, wasn’t it?”
you gather your courage, looking mark in the eyes.
“i have feelings for you.”
mark’s eyes go wide in silence. you swallow the lump forming in your throat, fiddling with the black hair tie on your left wrist. the sound of the rain grows louder as the silence prolongs. every inch of your being simmers with regret, seeing mark’s reaction. 
it was humiliating, watching as mark tried to form a sentence in his head as you knew what the answer was going to be. you never held any good expectations for your confession, because you knew it was a lost cause. you just figured this would be the easiest way to get over him. 
your hands grew sweatier as you tried to rub them on your hoodie. you were beginning to think that maybe, telling mark was the wrong way to go. you could have just hid how you felt, and maybe your crush would have gone away on its own. you expected that it wouldn’t have been that hard to distance yourself from mark.
“what?” was the only thing mark was able to breathe out.
you ball the fabric at the hem of your hoodie, tightening the grip of your fists. your breaths are shaky, maybe there was a part of mark that felt the same, but that was just something you told yourself to feel better. 
“sorry to tell you this now,” you apologize, looking down at your legs.
“no, no, it’s okay,” mark leans back in his chair, eyes filled with bewilderment, “y/n..”
you had seen this coming from miles away — you just wished that this had changed how you felt about him weeks before.
“you’re really amazing, and you’re a really good friend of mine, seriously. i cherish you a lot, just not.. that way. i hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”
although you knew the outcome of what was going to happen, that didn’t change the pang of hurt that came with it. maybe this didn’t affect mark, but it affects you. you don’t catch feelings often, and unfortunately, you did for the boy you couldn’t have.
“i’m sorry, y/n,” mark finishes, his pity-filled eyes boring into your own. you straighten your position, offering a small smile towards his direction.
“i know, i think yoojung and you would make a much lovelier couple anyway,” you tell him. it sounds pettier than what is intended. his expression softens.
“it’s not like that,” he tries to explain, but you don’t believe that. 
books are beautiful, they are magical, fascinating, and enticing. life is, simply put, a bitch.
“i have some quizzes to study for,” you tell him, which wasn’t exactly a lie. you just needed a reason to be alone for a bit.
“i can help, if you want, it’s not exactly my expertise but—“
“thanks, but i’m fine.”
you would rather be by yourself than have mark stay with you out of guilt. there’s a part of you that’s mad at yourself for putting this weight on his shoulders, and another part of you is glad. although you thought of it as selfish, it was the best way to rid yourself of how you felt towards him. it gave you the closure that you needed.
“i want to help, really,” it sounds like he’s pleading, trying to give you purpose to have him stay. it’s painfully obvious that he’s doing it to console you. 
“i’ll be fine on my own,” you finalize. you gather the papers on the table and stack them. “thank you for getting these for me. i’ll talk to you later.”
mark is speechless. you know that your reaction was harsh, but you just wanted mark to go. the two of you don’t talk when you walk him to the door, and you don’t reply to his “bye”. when he finally leaves, you bury your face in your hands out of frustration. 
the apartment is now quiet, the sound of the black clock on the wall ticking filling the room. your stomach is turning from the events that went down, anxiety always made you nauseous. 
now that you had finally told mark how you felt, there was one step left; getting over him.
the next day wasn’t much better. mark sent you a good morning text, and even though it was something he did everyday, it felt more like he sent it because he was feeling guilty. you didn’t respond, instead you just muted him for the day. you needed the space. 
you made sure to leave ten minutes earlier than you usually did that morning, in order to avoid mark. not seeing his face would make it slightly easier to forget about your feelings for him. mark had showed up to your apartment moments after, asking for you, only for jaemin to say you had left.
you thought about mark all day, wondering what he was doing and if he was thinking about you. you distracted yourself throughout the hours with studying and speaking to other friends, but he would always end up back in the middle of your pondering.
you hate it, how not seeing him affects you more.
“y/n,” your study partner, from your history of the choson dynasty course, impatiently taps her pen against the side of your laptop. you blink a few times, redirecting your focus to her.
“you seem distracted,” she points out. you shake your head at her, inhaling as you smile. 
“no, i’m okay,” you say politely. you push the thoughts of mark lee back to the depths of your stomach, rubbing your hand on your forehead frustratingly.
“before i forget,” she says, “there’s a guy i’m friends with. same year as us, he wanted me to let you know that he’s interested in you.”
you raise a brow, “how does he even know me?”
“he sees us together sometimes,” she chuckles back a reply, “his name is yeonjun? you might know him.”
“sorry i’m just not that interested in dating—“
she cuts you off, patting your shoulder. “you had one bad experience with a uni boy, you never know what could happen. plus, i need yeonjun to stop nagging me.”
you purse your lips. she was right, one bad experience didn’t mean the end of things, but you were unsure. a blind date would be a great way to take your mind off of your horrible memory of last night. with a bite of your lip, you find yourself noticing the pros, rather than the cons of meeting this guy named yeonjun.
“what’s he like?” you ask, a bit curious. her emotion shifts, making it obvious that she was trying to find the right words to describe him.
“he’s nice,” is the first thing she says, “sometimes very full of himself, but overall, he’s good looking. one time he walked into a glass sliding door.”
you hold back a small chuckle. you’re hesitating to give an answer so soon, but you figured that there was no harm. maybe it would be fun.
“you can give him my number,” you tell her, nodding your head once. she squeezes your hand in a friendly manner, “thank you y/n. now he’ll finally get off my case.”
you can’t help but feel flattered, that a guy would constantly ask your friend about you. it’s how any normal person would react to information like that.
she pulls out her phone quickly, her fingers tapping rapidly at the screen. her ringer is on, and you can tell by the sound of the apple keyboard making too much noise for your liking. you aren’t trying to be nosy, but the “whoosh” the phone makes indicates she’s sending a message to someone. 
your eyes flicker to her face when she smiles. she turns her phone off, placing it on the table. “i just sent it to him. he’s kind of nervous, probably freaking out right now.”
the comment itself makes you bashfully lower your head. you feel the hours of staring at your computer screen finally catching up to your brain, straining your eyes. you squint in pain, closing the laptop softly. 
“you okay?” she asks.
“i think i’m going to grab a bite to eat, i’m starving.” 
she nods in understanding. you carefully place your belongings in your book bag, trying not to cause a ruckus that catches the attention of your fellow peers. 
“bye,” you say casually, and she responds with the nod of her head. it’s her own way of saying goodbye. 
by the time you are about thirteen steps away from the table you were at, you’re already taking out your own phone to dial jaemin’s number. although he can be an annoying little prick, he’s someone you can eat in silence with and not feel uncomfortable. you are also aware that this was around the time he finishes his afternoon class, so you knew he would be around.
your footsteps pat against the concrete flooring of the halls, not making much noise. you exit the building through the glass sliding doors, towards a local cafe. the line rings a few times, but you know jaemin always answers his phone. 
“hello?” his voice chimes.
“can you come get food with me?” it sounds like a question, but you mean it as more of a demand. 
“of course i can,” he answers. “where do you want to meet?”
“i’m still on campus, outside by the main doors.”
“behind you,” is the last thing jaemin says, before he hangs up. you turn around, seeing jaemin waltzing towards you, a backpack lazily slung over his shoulder. students are exiting behind him, their talking growing loud.
“miss me?” jaemin jokes. you two walk side by side together.
“you’re disgusting,” you cringe back at him. he tries to pout cutely in your direction, but it just makes the second hand embarrassment grow. 
jaemin pushes the glass door of the cafe open, the bell chiming. he holds it open for you, and the delightful smell of freshly baked bread fills your nostrils.
“welcome!” the cashier beams from behind the white countertops, a bright smile plastered on her face. you wave your hand in greeting, sitting down with jaemin at a two person table beside the glass walls. 
“mark was looking for you, he was wondering why you left without him today,” jaemin tells you, placing his backpack on the floor by his feet. you trace the lines in the wood of the table. 
“i told him that i like him,” you bite your lip. jaemin rests his chin on the palm of his hand. 
“you did?”
you nod, “he said he didn’t see me in that way. kind of avoiding him now.”
jaemin’s expression noticeably softens. “it’s gonna be okay. there’s a lot of guys out there, tons who are more interesting than mark.”
“i know,” you nod again, “that’s why i gave a guy my number.”
it’s no surprise when jaemin’s eyes widen, his mouth parting in pure astonishment. as mentioned countless times, you really weren’t interested in dating at the moment. handing out your phone number on a silver platter was definitely something jaemin did not expect from you.
“what? who?” he begins bombarding you with countless questions, asking how you met the guy, what he’s studying, and he kept dishing them out without letting you answer a single one.
“calm down, i haven’t even met him yet!” you exclaim.
“what? then how did you give him your number?”
you sigh, “my study partner told me that he was interested in me, so i told her to give him my number. i don’t know, it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. his name is yeonjun.” you knew it was out of the ordinary, but you barely cared anymore. you felt so stupid for telling mark about your feelings, so you just ended up doing another stupid thing to make up for it.
“first, you have a crush on mark lee, next, you’re giving your contact information out to strangers? my god — my little girl is growing up,” jaemin teases you, placing his hands over his heart. you pinch his arm in retaliation, snorting back a laugh when he winces in pain.
jaemin then stands up, taking his debit card out of his dark blue skinny jeans. “hot drink or cold drink?”
“cold.”
“iced caramel macchiato it is, then,” he responds. he walks away, towards the cash register to order. you bask in the ambience surrounding you, faint music playing on the speakers and conversations of others filling your ears. you don’t mind the volume, it just sounded like background noise to you.
the cafe is pretty, dark wooden tables scattered around the room and soft lights are hanging from the ceiling. there are some small leather couches in the corners of the area. only one is taken, but you know people prefer the tables and wooden chairs with cushions over the worn down couches.
jaemin comes back, placing your coffees and two sandwiches on the table, sitting back down.
“what did you get?” you ask, sipping your sweet coffee. the condensation on the outside of the cup is cold, dripping down and leaving droplets on the table. jaemin pushes his own drink towards you, motioning for you to try it. 
“see for yourself.”
you immediately regret bringing your lips to the straw, you knew of jaemin’s strange coffee order with four added espresso shots. you scrunch up your facial features when the coffee hits your tongue, giving the drink back to him.
“i hate you for making me do that,” you state.
“no you don’t,” he retorts with a smile, taking sips of his own drink as if it didn��t taste like hell.
you hear the same cafe bell ringing, but you pay little to no attention to the sound. jaemin’s head shoots up, eyes darting to whoever had just walked in. you’re too busy checking apps on your phone to even realize it.
“don’t look now,” jaemin tells you, bringing your focus to him. you look at him with the kind of eyes that say, “what the hell are you talking about?”.
“why? what’s wrong with you—“
“if you’re trying to steer clear of mark, i really would not turn around.”
you now understand what jaemin is trying to tell you, and it nearly makes you laugh. it really is stupid in your opinion, but you decide that this is the only way to get over mark. you being you, you take a peek at him, just because.
he looks nice, in a black beanie, a black jacket, blue jeans, and white tee under the said jacket. it’s a biased opinion, of course, because you think mark looks good in anything.
he goes to order, not before pulling out his phone to text someone, though. you had underestimated how much it would take you to not go over and say hi, but you are able to keep your composure.
he’s out of the cafe with a drink in hand as fast as he had entered, and you let out a sigh of relief. 
“that was fun,” jaemin snorts, leaning back further on his chair. you kick his foot from under the table, and he reaches down in pain. 
you huff, going back on your phone and deciding to text your study buddy. she responds almost immediately, asking what you needed.
you’re typing furiously fast, eyebrows scrunched up as jaemin merely observed. 
“what are you doing?” he asks.
“asking for yeonjun’s number.”
you don’t know why you were doing this, maybe it was because you saw mark’s face and it reminded you of yesterday. it was like it triggered you, it made you want to find someone other than him. you wanted him to know that his rejection didn’t affect you (although it did). by now, you had copy and pasted yeonjun’s number in your contacts, while jaemin looked slightly worried about your change in attitude.
he’s never seen you like this; weirdly impulsive and making decisions based on your emotions, you are a very logical and analytical person. you always thought something out rationally before taking action. 
something changed in you, and you knew exactly whose face was behind the reason.
you smile to yourself, staring down at the texts on your phone. you had been messaging yeonjun for around an hour now, and you were safe to say that he was easily one of the sweetest people you have ever met. 
you had only decided to message him when jaemin and you arrived back at the apartment, and you had been eyeing his contact in your phone doubtingly for a good five minutes.
when you texted him first, he was quite excited. although, he was a little embarrassed that you had decided to reach out to him instead. you assured him that it was okay, and the conversation continued on. you were just happy to find someone new to talk to, who wasn’t your study partner and who wasn’t your roommate.
whilst mark still lingered in your mind, talking to someone as outgoing as yeonjun seemed to be a temporary get away for yourself. you understand that it seemed a bit selfish, knowing that yeonjun took an interest in you, but you knew that it was just a small infatuation. there was no harm in talking to the boy over messages.
yeonjun [3:31 pm] i’m sorry it took me this long to talk to u ! u’re so intimidating in real life
you didn’t think that people actually thought about you as difficult to approach, you just thought your friends said that to you as a joke. now, you realize that you did look a little mean in everyday life. 
you [3:32 pm] dw about it lol i don’t mind
yeonjun [3:32 pm] well im glad i get to talk to u now
it’s quite evident that yeonjun’s personality had a flirty undertone to it, he seemed like the type of guy where pickup lines rolled off of the tip of his tongue with ease. you had both exchanged pictures earlier so you could save them to each other’s contacts. he was smiling largely in his, his hair black and his attractive face looked too perfect to be true. your selfie wasn’t much, just you putting up a peace sign with the corners of your lips slightly lifted. 
of course, yeonjun had taken the opportunity to call you pretty when you sent it.
yeonjun [3:33 pm] do u want to hang out some time? it could be fun !
your eyes linger on his message for a small amount of time, silent thoughts are going through your head. you didn’t want to lead him on — yeonjun seemed friendly (although this was an opinion you had made based off of your text conversation) and you didn’t want to give him a false sense of hope. 
but another part of your mind had you asking yourself, what could go wrong? you could just label it as a friend hang out, not a date. he didn’t even mention that it was a date, he just asked you if you wanted to hang out. 
yeonjun [3:34 pm] did i scare u off? :,(
you [3:34 pm] nono i’m still here !! just trying to see what days i’m free
well, that wasn’t exactly a lie. you were trying to find an open day to possibly meet up with yeonjun, but you were also beginning to second guess your choice.
you quickly click out of your messages with yeonjun, only to be met with three unread notifications from mark. it was from two hours ago, but you were too distracted to even notice that he had texted you.
mark [1:12pm] hii are u busy?
mark [1:12pm] can we hang out today? i have nothing to do
mark [1:13pm] do you want coffee? i’m at the cafe by the school
you realize that mark had texted you inside that coffee shop. it pained you to see that mark was acting like nothing happened, while you were hurting. his texts made it harder to avoid him.
your fingers are frozen, hovering over the keyboard. you shake off the impulse of wanting to text mark back. if mark really wanted to hang out with you, you figured he would most likely just come over and knock on your door. 
you quickly return to yeonjun’s texts, answering him.
you [3:36pm]  are you free tonight ? :)
yeonjun doesn’t text back right away, and you wonder to yourself if it was too soon. you wanted to be out of the house, you wanted to go somewhere you didn’t have a chance of mark waltzing up to you to say hi. it was too embarrassing, and too soon for your liking. you cringe at the thought of yesterday.
yeonjun [3:39pm] SORRY i got kind of excited that u wanted to meet so soon HDJDJFH
yeonjun [3:39pm] but yes, i am free tonight. does 7 pm sound okay, ma’am?
a laugh can’t help but escape the grasp of your lips. you enjoyed yeonjun’s goofy and odd sense of humour, he knew how to keep you entertained and he was good at it. the texts between you two flowed nicely, the timid/serious girl versus the flirty/comical guy dynamic worked great between the two of you.
you [3:40pm] 7pm would be great <3 my address is XXXXXXX
you turn your phone off with the click of your power button, getting off of your mattress to rummage through clothes. you hadn’t been on a date in awhile, and you didn’t think you were going to go on one so soon either. basically, you had no idea what to talk about, what to do, or what to wear. you hoped yeonjun would figure out where you two were going to go.
opening your white doored closet, you face your hanging dresses. praying that you still fit them, you grasp at the fabrics, pushing the pieces of clothing until you could find one that you liked.
you grab a baby blue dress that hangs off of a black coat hanger, slipping it on with ease. it’s an off shoulder short sleeved one, something you don’t usually wear (because jaehyun had bought it for you when you dated) and it goes just above your knee. you like the way it fits your frame, satisfied with your choice. you take a peek at yourself in the bathroom mirror, smiling.
“going somewhere?” jaemin’s voice chimes from the doorway. he’s leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest.
“mhm, i’m going to hang out with yeonjun,” you reply back, brushing the knots out of your hair.
“aw,” he pouts, “you’re finally gonna get some!”
“jaemin?”
“yeah?”
“i’m gonna kick you in the balls if you don’t go away.”
“i’m going!”
you tap your foot anxiously as the elevator descends down your building. god — you definitely did not see this coming. it was like you were constantly making irrational choices for no reason; as if you weren’t in control. you had put on a handful of makeup, which was also something that was unusual for you.
a peach and brown eyeshadow was placed neatly on your eyelids, a thin wing of eyeliner on top of it. there were sparkles in the corner of your eyes, a peachy blush on the apples of your cheeks and on the tip of your nose. you had settled on a clear lip gloss, rather than a lipstick.
it felt nice to be confident in how you looked, even if you were just going out of impulse.
“wow,” yeonjun visibly mouths when he gains sight of you walking out of your apartment building. yeonjun was much more attractive in person, standing in front of his black car. 
“yeonjun?” you say, walking up to him. he’s still admiring you, an evident pink colour appearing on his cheeks.
“yeah! you’re just really pretty.”
the comment itself makes you shy. he holds his car door open for you, allowing you to slide in. the seats are leather, and it’s fairly clean inside. the floor mats have little to no dirt on them, and you didn’t even see an inch of bird poop on the outside of his car.
before he starts the car, you notice the familiar feeling of guilt bubbling from inside of you. this was a date, a real date. even though you didn’t want a relationship, yeonjun had the thought in his mind that you did. you just couldn’t lead him on like this, and it was better to tell him now than to let it even grow a tiny bit.
you admit, it’s quite inconsiderate of you to do this. even if you had just met him, lying was never a good start to a healthy friendship/relationship. nowadays, you were having a hard time navigating your own moral compass. 
the car engine revs up loudly, and yeonjun hands you his phone that’s connected to the aux cord.
“here,” he says, placing it in your hand. “i want to know what kind of music you like.”
it’s a simple, but kind gesture. the beginning of this night was much different than the “dates” you went on with boyfriends in high school. they were full of awkward hand holding and prolonged silences, and it always had you dreading to go on the next. 
this felt much more pleasant, especially since you knew the guy was into you, and that you wouldn’t have to worry about much. the only thing eating away at you was the truth, and why you were here. it felt like you were using yeonjun to get back at mark, and you just wanted to clear things up with yeonjun before doing anything.
but you don’t.
yeonjun presents you with two admission tickets to an aquarium when he parks the car. you think it’s cute, and you definitely thought that his idea of the first date fit his personality. 
you, personally, enjoyed aquariums. although you didn’t enjoy the strong, fishy smell, you thought it was relaxing and fun to just walk around and see the different types of ocean creatures.
the environment is serene, not many kids or people go to the aquarium at night. there’s a map when you two enter, and yeonjun takes a picture of it to navigate. it’s a bit dark inside, but you don’t mind. it’s warmer inside than it is outside as well, and much quieter.
“jellyfish!” yeonjun exclaims, like a cute little kid. he takes a hold of your hand, almost dragging you to the section of bright coloured jellyfish behind glass. they move slowly, and it reminds you of how you wanted to touch the top of them to see if they were squishy as a child.
“can we take a selfie?” he asks you, pulling out his phone. you smile, nodding to him.
“of course.”
the two of you stand in front of the jellyfish, and he aims his phone high. he smiles brightly, while you take out a peace sign. the phone makes a loud click, and yeonjun seems satisfied with the picture when he goes to view it.
the both of you continue to walk, viewing each creature carefully. yeonjun is a bit more excited than you are, but you have to admit that it was kind of adorable.
“so,” you begin, “tell me about yourself.”
“hm,” he pauses for a moment, “well.. i’m studying music, and i’ve had a little crush on you for two weeks. a little embarrassing on my part, but worth it.”
“i see,” you nod your head in understanding, “and why do you have a crush on me?”
“you’re pretty,” he immediately blurts out. it makes you grow shy, but yeonjun continues on.
“i-i mean, that’s not just it! i know you are really smart and independent.. i admire that about you.”
you know that it was your friend who probably told him all this stuff, labelling you with such kind words. you wondered why yeonjun’s name hadn’t been brought up earlier. you’re also curious if yeonjun knew mark, but you decide not to ask.
mark wasn’t stopping you from having a good time tonight. you remind yourself that you don’t have to be loyal to someone who doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, but it doesn’t keep you from missing him.
“what about you, y/n? anything interesting you can tell me about yourself?”
you don’t think there’s much to know about you. you’re extremely straightforward and you don’t exactly have a lot of unique experiences to bring up.
“not really,” you reply, “i’m not as captivating as you make me out to be.”
the dark blue carpet below your feet doesn’t make much noise as you take steps throughout the establishment. the reflection of the water is bouncing off of the walls, small podiums with information about each marine animal was placed in front of almost all of the tanks.
yeonjun smiles in your direction, “i’m sure there’s a lot to you other than what meets the eye.”
the night continued on, full of laughter and storytelling from the both of you. yeonjun has a few close friends and dozens of hilarious events that occurred with them. his warm aura is amusing, and you find yourself enjoying the company he is able to offer you.
you two took a large amount of photos, mostly because yeonjun wanted to take pictures of everything. he demanded that you two bought matching red crab hats at the gift shop, and you happily complied. he didn’t fail to hand out constant compliments your way, which was also something you didn’t mind. you know that jaemin and him would probably make great friends.
“i think,” you pause, scrolling through the pictures that you took, “this one looks the best.” yeonjun is posing in front of a pair of sea otters cuddled close to each other, the excitement inside of him never leaving his eyes.
“but you aren’t in it,” he says, scrunching up his eyebrows to find another one. “what about this one?”
this time, it’s a picture of you two in front of a large, cylinder shaped fish tank. it’s full of a variety of different species, ranging from small sharks to turtles. yeonjun had asked one of the staff members to take it, and you can clearly remember her flushed face when he tapped her on the shoulder. you couldn’t blame her, yeonjun was insanely attractive.
“that’s a good one,” you nod in agreement, satisfied with his choice. on the way out, he quickly uploads the picture to instagram, with a cheesy pick up line as the caption. it doesn’t surprise you.
you’re sure that your makeup was probably ruined from the heat of when you two entered the tropical area, which was full of frogs and they even had a small natured area that was inhabited by birds. one had landed right on yeonjun’s shoulder, and he nearly scared it off by screaming.
you two hadn’t indulged into deep details of your life during the time you spent together, but you did learn a fair amount of information about each other. yeonjun told you he lived in the on campus dorms, and although he was extremely good looking, he had a hard time with girls.
the car ride back home is full of loud music, the kind of music that makes your stomach churn, full of nostalgia. he tells stories, you tell stories, and it’s quite nice overall. it was past nine in the evening, but the amount of cars on the road seemed the same as earlier in the night.
the bass of the music is so loud that it vibrates the side of the car, and two bottles of water are now placed in the once empty cup holders. yeonjun keeps his eyes on the road, but you can tell his main goal is to keep you entertained.
he parallel parks his car effortlessly in front of your building, running quickly to open the car door for you. you can pretty much tell that yeonjun was a raging romantic, or at least he gave you the vibe that he was.
“thank you,” you say in a small voice, making yeonjun wink at you. he hands you your bottled water, walking you to the front door. you pull out your keys, pressing the grey key fob to the sensor. he pulls the door open for you, following you inside.
“i should probably let you go now,” he smiles.
“tonight was really fun,” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, yeonjun’s eyes and nose crinkling with happiness.
“i’m glad you had fun, because i did.”
then it came again — the unbearable guilt that was sitting on your shoulders. mark’s face flashing inside your mind, reminding you that you weren’t doing this to get with yeonjun. you were doing it to get over your moronic crush on mark. you knew that if you were in yeonjun’s place right now, you would want the truth. after the date, it was the least yeonjun deserved.
“wait,” you blurt out to him, and he tilts his head.
“yes?”
“before you go,” you exhale. at this point, you’re chewing at your bottom lip intensely, scared to hurt such a kind boy. “i just— told a guy i liked him. i’m still fresh out of the rejection phase and i don’t know if i can really date right now. i know this is unfair to you and i never should have—“
“hey, hey,” he smiles comfortingly towards your direction. he places a hand on your shoulder, “i get it.”
“we can still be friends, yeah?”
you can’t hide the surprised look on your face, out of all the reactions you could have possibly earned, you certainly did not expect that one.
“how can you not be upset? no offense it was just.. a shit thing of me to do. you can be angry if you want to be.”
yeonjun shakes his head, “i mean, i wish i could have known sooner, but there’s really no big deal. you seem like a pretty cool friend, i really don’t mind.”
you’re shocked, that’s for sure, but grateful. you don’t think you’ve ever met someone as nice as him, and your situation was like a “wrong place, wrong time” kind of thing. it was too bad, really.
“i still think we should hang out more often,” he comments, and you agree.
“text me anytime,” you tell him, “i’m still really sorry.”
“i told you already, it’s fine. my ego is a bit hurt, but i’ll message you tomorrow or something. i wouldn’t mind hanging out as friends.”
he waves goodbye happily, still maintaining the same level of content that he held during the date. you still feel a bit of remorse in your being, and you hope that the person who ends up with yeonjun doesn’t take advantage of him. with intentions as good as himself, you know that it’s easy to get corrupted.
your feet ache a bit, the elevator ride up slower than you remember. your socks are nearly slipping off of your feet into your white converse, making you shift awkwardly as the bright elevator light flickers.
when you finally reach the tenth floor, you sigh in relief. you exit the elevator quietly, careful to not make any noise. when you’re about to insert your keys into the lock, you hear another door click open.
your head turns, eyes landing on those of mark lee’s. he’s frozen, staring at your dressed up figure. there are goosebumps formed upon your legs, and you curse yourself for choosing a dress instead of pants. he clears his throat, eyes unable to tear off of you.
“you’re home,” he states the obvious. you wish you just had opened the door and walked in, instead of standing there while bearing through an awkward, unwanted conversation.
“sorry, i don’t know if you saw my texts but i knocked earlier and jaemin said you were out.”
you purse your lips, your jaw clenched. “yeah, i went to go hang out with a friend.” you don’t owe him a story, nor did you owe him an explanation. you still tell him though, and you’re unsure as to why.
“i know,” he inhales deeply, his chest rising. he’s no longer in his outfit from earlier, instead he’s in a matching set of grey pajamas. “yeonjun posted a picture of you together.”
“you know him?” you question, but you already feel like you know the answer.
“we have music composition together, i didn’t know you two knew each other,” he admits, making you bite the inside of your cheek. you were debating on continuing the conversation or just going inside, but something makes you want to stay, keeping your feet planted. of course mark knew who yeonjun was, that was just your luck.
“it was a date,” the words fall out of your mouth faster than they register in your brain. it’s like you’re trying to show off, a choice you were not proud of, but you still let it happen. 
“o-oh,” he stutters out, caught off guard, like always. “i didn’t know you two were that close.” half of you is proud of your choosing of words, the other half is questioning why the hell you were still here. you finally resume unlocking your front door, while you assume that mark can’t seem to grasp the fact that you went on a date.
you’re halfway through the door, until mark’s voice pipes up again.
“boyfriend?”
you stop in your tracks, carefully selecting your next words before shutting the door. it’s not much, but you result in a simple,
“no.”
mark doesn’t send you a good morning text the following day. 
all you are left with is the texts from last night, when you were out with yeonjun. they ranged from “wyd?” to “wanna get food with me?”, and although you were technically evading his company, you felt a little bad. you couldn’t forget mark’s shocked face from yesterday, his eyes like a deer caught in the headlights.
but, you did receive texts from yeonjun. he wasn’t lying when he said he would be contacting you the next day. you had slept twelve hours, waking up at noon to see a few messages from the tall black haired boy.
he had spammed you, insisting that you do something to get to know each other better. you stretched your arms and legs, not extremely eager to get out of bed on one of your free days, but it was yeonjun. the guy you had kind of lead on, if you could even call it that.
your eyelids still have a lingering heaviness to them when yeonjun greets you, and you desperately wanted coffee. your coffee addiction may not be as bad as jaemin’s, but you are sure that you would not survive without it. 
yeonjun’s presence changes the energy in the room, lighting it up like a spark. his loud voice and silly demeanour is what catches the attention of many, almost making you want to hang your head low from second hand embarrassment. you knew that the restaurant you two sat in was probably silent before the both of you came in.
it’s funny, you think, about how fun it was to be around yeonjun (even though you two had literally just met). you decide that he’s probably the type of guy who does this a lot, clicking with everyone he met. you have to say it’s an admirable trait to possess, and with a face like his, it will get him places.
“what do you feel like ordering?” he asks, staring down at the menu. you drag your fingers along the plastic covering, humming. the ice in yeonjun’s glass cup clinks as he takes a sip, raising an eyebrow at you.
“i’ve never been here before,” you say, your tongue poking at the flesh on the inside of your cheek, “but the house special looks really good.”
you take a hold of your own glass, sipping down on the cold water. it seems even colder since you had a piece of mint gum before it.
“oh!” his eyes light up almost immediately, “mark knows how to make that, it’s really good, he made it for a potluck once.”
you nearly choke on your water, hovering your hand over your mouth. “mark? why are you bringing up mark?”
“aren’t you two neighbours? he said you two were pretty close,” he replies back casually. you’re a little confused, to say the least. why would mark and yeonjun be talking about you? how do you even come up in a conversation? 
“i mean, yeah i guess. why was he talking to you about me?”
“last night after i dropped you off, he asked me if we were seeing each other. of course i said no, but he told me all about you two living next to each other and that you guys are like, best buds.”
you hold back a sarcastic laugh, “did he now?”
yeonjun nods, taking your menu and stacking it on top of his own. he places them to the side for the server to take. “why? is something going on between you two or..”
you watch as yeonjun realizes what you meant, and you have to admit that he’s a fast learner. his lips form into the shape of an ‘o’, then he purses them awkwardly. 
“it was him..”
“mhm.”
there’s something in you that just makes you so upset for falling for mark. it makes you disappointed in yourself, only because you two started getting to know each other a month back. people say you can’t control how you feel or who you like, but that’s why it bothers you so much. it’s because you aren’t in control.
“he sounded really protective of you,” yeonjun drops the comment casually, waving over a waitress. you don’t like the way your heart beats faster when thinking of mark being protective. your current thoughts seem absurd in your opinion, the feeling of the faint tug of your heartstrings rising in your chest.
“he said you meant a lot to him, not sure if that changes anything..”
it doesn’t, but it’s nice to hear. there’s no change of heart because you know how mark means that, in a friendly way. mark catching you and yeonjun on a date wasn’t going to change that, no matter how much you desperately wanted it to. 
yeonjun orders the food with a friendly expression resting on his face. the ring of the restaurant’s delivery tablet makes you flinch, the sound louder than the chattering of other civilians. it’s cloudy outside, but not raining. the clouds are a light grey, yet it’s still bright outside; the type of bright that when you look up at the sky, it strains your eyes. the waitress leaves with your menus in hand, your eyes glued to a spot on the wall as you zone out.
you used to be capable of containing your emotions, but you weren’t as confident in that ability anymore. you’re sure mark is the culprit, but you don’t think you should keep blaming mark for every single change in you. it’s normal for people’s personalities to adjust and alter, but you felt like this change was too drastic for your liking.
you begin to overthink why mark didn’t text you that morning. the reasonable cause would most likely be that it was obvious you didn’t want to speak to him, and that he was just giving you your space, but you keep going back to a different thought. there’s something that makes you wonder if it was because of what happened last night. it’s a slim chance, but you can’t help but factor that into the situation.
yeonjun talks throughout the meal as your mind wanders elsewhere. the food smells extraordinary, filling your nostrils and making your mouth water, and you’re able to down it quickly. you swear that the food is devoured as soon as it was placed on the table.
“what do you like about mark?”
the question that pops out of yeonjun’s mouth baffles you. it’s not everyday you ask a person you barely know why they like who they like. it’s different, to say the least. something you don’t mind answering but also something you’re not sure if you’re completely comfortable with.
you’re fidgeting your fingers under the table, heart racing just thinking of him. you can’t put your finger on why, it just happens. it’s something you’re also not very used to.
you don’t have to think hard about it, mark is a lovable person. you don’t think there’s anything you dislike about mark, or at least you can’t think of anything on the spot. 
“he cares,” you start, “but not just the normal friend way, if that makes sense? he’s the type of guy who would make a copy of your house key because he knows that you lose it all the time. he tries his best to pay attention to the little details about a person, and never pushes past their comfort zone.”
you think you could talk about mark for ten minutes straight, but you save yeonjun the time and you save yourself the embarrassment. yeonjun nods, processing the words in his brain as he slowly leans back.
“why do you ask?” you finally question him.
“it’s always fun to hear why a person is interested in another,” he replies in a simple, casual manner. “gets a person excited about what they’re talking about.”
he’s not wrong — you can always see the light in someone’s eyes when they talk about things they’re interested in. whether it’s an activity or a person, their emotions stay the same.
“i also needed to know about my competition,” he winks playfully, making you shake your head and smile. if only you had met yeonjun first, you could have happily been in a relationship. but no, you had to meet an idiot who didn’t know the difference between a sweatshirt and a hoodie until you explained it to him.
if only you had met anybody else first.
the day passes by quickly, yeonjun’s entire aura making it fun. the hours tick by without you even noticing, and before you know it, yeonjun had dropped you off at home. he waves you goodbye with a sweet grin on his face, his pearly whites flashing and his skin glistening in the sun.
you bid your goodbyes with content, your body aching to just go lie down on your own comfy mattress. jaemin’s snicker is obvious when you enter the house, which is followed by the roll of your eyes. your energy feels like it was drained from your body, you craved nothing more than a three hour nap right now.
your eyelids are heavy, the legs holding you up feeling shaky. you couldn’t help but wonder what mark was doing, it was a bad habit that you just couldn’t quite get rid of. would he try to talk to you today? are you finally getting the space you needed? did you really want that space?
the never-ending questions swirl around in your mind, creating a lingering pain that makes your eyes squint. instead of going to your room, you settle on the couch, plopping down with a groan of satisfaction.
“stop going on dates, i’m gonna lose my best friend,” jaemin whines in an annoying, high pitched voice from the dining table. you stare at the ceiling, the sunlight seeping through the windows. 
“just because i hang out with a guy doesn’t mean we are dating,” you remark, almost in a snappy tone. 
“yeah totally, not like you went on a date with him last night either,” he responds sarcastically, highlighting words in his textbook at the same time.
“it was, but this one wasn’t,” you sigh, “told him i wasn’t ready for that stuff.”
“why? you two would be like an it couple.”
you make a disgusted look on your face from jaemin’s choice of words, staring over at him. “first of all, no. second of all, i just got rejected by mark! not like a few fish and a cute guy can change that.”
“what about binging kdramas and a cute guy who’s name starts with j and ends with aemin?”
“please, for the love of god, never say that again.”
jaemin giggles in his seat, “by the way, could you throw out the garbage?”
you glare at him. he’s looking down at his books, but you know that he can feel your cold eyes on him. “why can’t you do it?”
“i’m lazy.”
you agree to take out the waste, but not without a little fight before it. you had grumbled and complained, but figured it wouldn’t change much. you had rolled your eyes and got up, jaemin watching you with a shit eating grin on his face while you carried the garbage out of your apartment.
jaemin and you shared the housework, maybe not evenly but the both of you still had chores to do around the house. sometimes, it irritates you, but that annoyance is usually long forgotten when jaemin cooks a big meal at night. you do most of the cleaning, while he makes up for it by creating food dishes and doing laundry (sometimes).
you figure your misfortune is just about right when you spot mark, who is also holding a bag full of recycling items that needs to be brought down to the garbage room. you swallow harshly, holding your door open before deciding that you should just wait. 
“hi,” mark says, spotting you with ease. you close your eyes in frustration, turning back around to smile awkwardly at him. 
“hey again.”
you despised this. the unpleasant greetings and tension filled rooms, they certainly did not fit your taste at all. you’re reminded of why you didn’t want to tell mark you liked him, you didn’t want this to happen. you two had been in a good place before, this felt like you were going backwards instead of forwards.
your eyes are weirdly darting around the room, avoiding his gaze at all cost.
“sorry i didn’t text you this morning.. i completely forgot.”
you don’t know why he’s telling you this in the first place, you were the one who wanted space, and you would have to be stupid to not realize that. you guess that you overestimated him. 
you’re pretty much silent for the entire exchange, waiting for him to just go and press the button to the elevator so you could go back inside. 
“weird we only see each other in the hallway nowadays,” he fills the silence, you just smile and nod. you’re unsure of what to say, you never did well in situations similar to this one. you usually made a snarky remark or just ignored them.
“do you want to hang out or something?” out of all the things mark lee could ask, you were certain that was one of the stupidest things he could think of. 
“no, thanks,” you reply, pursing your lips. the exchange of looks you send each other makes your heart pound. he appears hurt, possibly offended, while you wait for the conversation to be over.
the hum of the red exit sign is the only thing you can hear, but only for a small moment in time. you know there’s nothing you can gain from these small interactions, and you’re not expecting your cold attitude to result in the reciprocation of feelings. pushing him away was the best thing you could do for yourself, at least until your own emotions die down.
“will we ever go back to normal?”
you found yourself constantly asking that question as well. along with “how long will it take us to recover?” the unfortunate thing was, you had no idea. you don’t know if mark would look at you the same, would he start seeing you as the girl who had a crush on him, or would he continue to see you as his friend, y/n?
“this is normal,” the lie is painfully obvious, but you weren’t in the mood to have a deep conversation with mark lee. especially with a black garbage bag in your hand, smelling of food stained wrappers and rotten bananas. you don’t know how much time you have wasted, standing outside of your front door hoping that no unknown liquid is seeping onto the carpeted floor from the bag.
“nothing about this is ordinary,” he sighs, “it’s only been a few days, but i’m always wondering when you’ll be able to stand staying in the same room as me for more than five minutes.”
“that’s not for you to determine.”
the contrast of your day spent with yeonjun and your bump in with mark was ever so different, a type of difference that you did not enjoy. your head and heart start to pound a little harder, louder as well. you always knew that mark and you had a habit of sitting in silence for a little bit, but it was usually comforting. this silence made you anxious for what was to come. 
you assume that mark had given up on trying to reason with you, or he had stopped trying to make you feel better, judging by his lack of volume. his eyes are glued to your own, waiting for a move to be made. you’re frozen, your face absent of emotion as you perform your best to maintain calm.
“i’m sorry.”
his voice is soft, barely a whisper, and it makes you feel awful. mark was probably blaming himself for not liking you back. he was just that type of guy, and you knew that. the thought eats away at you, your grip on the garbage bag tightening. your back straightens, an uneven breath flowing out of your nose.
it’s not his fault, and you know it. he can’t help who he likes, and neither could you. you wished you could point fingers at someone for your current state of events, mark, yourself, anyone. the truth was, you couldn’t. it was just bad timing, and bad luck.
“it’s okay,” you say quietly. your face quickly shifts into one full of remorse, but you felt too embarrassed to say anything more. 
“you going to throw out that garbage?” he asks, too casually for the current situation. he points towards the bag of trash, and you look down at it. 
“another time,” you smile softly, making him frown in disappointment. you assume that maybe he had thought of this as your turning point, maybe he expected everything to return back to the way it was. you just couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted to. 
you turn around, entering your house again. your back pressed against the door, you stare up at the ceiling. the garbage bag drops to the ground with a large thump, a hand covering your mouth to muffle a quiet cry. 
you have never cried about feelings not being mutual, but you realize that there were many things you have not done before mark appeared in your life.
maybe your life was like a love story, just not the ones written in your typical romance novels. it felt like a much more angsty, stomach churning, and confusing one. not something you necessarily liked, but it couldn’t be changed.
you bury your face in your hands, stress overcoming you. you then pick up the garbage bag again, hoping mark would be gone by now as you reach to open the door.
to your surprise, mark falls back first into your floor, a bag full of recyclables still being held in his hand. his face is a bright red, stumbling to dust off his legs as he jumps up.
“sorry, i um — i had my back against your door and—“
“you can go now.”
“oh my god, thank you.”
the last thing you wanted to do was go on a double date with people you barely knew, roaming around a crowded night market while the smell of overpriced food filled your nose. unfortunately, that is exactly where you found yourself the next night. 
yeonjun had texted you in the morning, practically begging you to be his date for a night. he insisted it was platonic, only because he had bragged to his friends that he had gone on a date with “the y/n” (as they called you). funny enough, they hadn’t believed him, so he ended up spamming your phone at 10 am to accompany him and his friends.
you could barely find your own personal space at the night market. it was flooded with noisy people, the setting sun shining onto their skin. you stuck closely to yeonjun, as well as his friends eunji and woohyun. 
honestly, you had a feeling that the only reason you came was because you felt as if you owed it to yeonjun. yes, you enjoyed his company, but not enough to make you want to go on a double date with him and some strangers. 
“what do you think of this, y/n?” yeonjun turns to you, holding a pair of pink heart sunglasses in his left hand, and a pair of light blue ones in the right. you look at him, eyeing both items.
“weren’t the frog hats enough?”
he pouts, “but these would suit us so well! don’t you think?”
“i don’t think—“
before you can finish your sentence, he’s pushing the pink shades onto your face with no warning. he nearly pokes you in the eye, but it doesn’t seem like he notices. he looks oddly proud of himself, leaning back to see how the glasses frame your face.
“perfect!” he exclaims, clasping his hands together. he puts the other pair of sunglasses on his own face, then links arms with you. he pulls out his phone, raising it to take a picture with you. he also takes it without saying anything, getting the full “candid” effect as you were in the middle of eyeing the food of people passing by.
“i’m buying these,” he says, taking both of the glasses into his hands. you have no time to protest as he darts towards the cash register, leaving you with his two friends that you barely talked to all night.
although everything here fit your aesthetically pleasing mental list, you couldn’t lie about the fact that it was stupidly overpriced. you weren’t exactly dying to spend all your money, so you refrained from buying too much. it was times like this that made you ask yourself why you quit your job as a retail worker.
you really only talked to yeonjun here, you sparked up small talk with eunji and woohyun, but they seemed like they were too focused on each other to care. 
you’re finally given something to do when your phone buzzes in your back pocket, making you flinch. you reach to grab it, reading the first notification that appears on the screen.
mark [8:39pm] you’re at the night market with yeonjun?
of course yeonjun would post about you two tonight. you learned that he really liked to document the things he does, and although you didn’t criticize him for it, it was a pain in the ass when the picture included you. you would either gain constant teasing from jaemin, or random messages from the one and only, mark lee.
you grit your teeth together, staring at the notification on the screen.
you [8:40pm] what’s it to you?
you ask yourself if you were being too harsh on him, and you are sure that your friends would tell you that you were being too hard on mark. you’re staring at your screen, anticipating a response. the noise around you gives you a headache, hearing almost everyone’s conversations. your heart is beating uncontrollably fast, thumbs shakily hovering over your screen.
“y/n~” yeonjun chimes in a sing song voice, happily handing you the pair of sunglasses. his eyes flicker from your phone, to your unamused and obviously irritated face.
“who are you texting?” he questions, eyes squinting. 
“no one,” you reply as casually as possible, about to put your phone away. yeonjun is quick to snatch it from your hands, reading the words on the screen. 
“you’re kind of invading my privacy—”
“mark is here too.”
shit. you swear you’ve been seeing mark way more ever since you decided to avoid his presence, almost like fate wanted to see you suffer from your terrible excuse of a love life. 
“this is your chance y/n,” yeonjun smiles, placing the phone in your hand.
“chance for what?”
“maybe rekindle your friendship? you seem so tense when his name is mentioned— you told me about the situation, you two could be friends again.”
you nearly snicker at the statement. you weren’t even sure if you were ready, so how could anyone else state their opinion on it? you look back at your phone, and yeonjun was right. 
mark [8:41 pm] i’m here too lol
at this point, you just know that fate is deliberately fucking with you. running away from problems was never your style of dealing with things, but then again, this was your first time falling for someone like mark. god — you were just praying that you wouldn’t randomly bump into him, but thinking about the way you two met, you felt like your chances of seeing him were extremely high.
your anxiety starts overcoming you as you whip your head around, making sure that mark wasn’t anywhere near you. odd enough, as much as you dreaded running into him, another part of you wanted to see his face. it may sound cliché, but it felt like your heart wanted him to come up to you and just give you a hug. 
you just craved normality again; normality that mark stripped from you.
“i can’t be here,” you breathe out, tears welling up in your eyes. the built up, overwhelming tension the past few days was finally catching up to you. you sucked in your bottom lip — you were finally breaking. 
“hey, hey, y/n, you’re going to be okay,” yeonjun stands in front of you, engulfing you into an embrace. you bring your arms under his armpits, holding onto his shoulders. you were so tired of feeling this way, that sense of hopelessness. you hadn’t ever felt this way about a person, and you were scared that you wouldn’t be able to get over him.
“it’s just mark, what’s the worst that could happen?” yeonjun says in a comforting tone.
“anything could happen,” you retorted, sniffling into his shirt. yeonjun uses his hand to lightly stroke your hair. the thought that yeonjun was the only person who has really seen your stoic facade crumble makes you want to laugh. you barely knew him, and here he was, trying to seize the amount of nervousness coursing through your veins.
you didn’t know how to stop this constant state of hurt and self pity, you also didn’t know when this avoiding of mark would end. 
“y/n,” a voice breathes out, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. you already know who is standing behind you, which makes you just want to act like you heard nothing. yeonjun was too busy looking at the other accessories that lined the small carts to even notice. you’re unsure if yeonjun was purposely trying to look busy, or if he was genuinely just interested in the pretty jewelry. either way, you couldn’t turn to yeonjun for help.
there’s a small nervous tingle that forms in your chest, which runs through to your fingers. you swallow your pride, turning around. there, mark lee stood in all his glory, holding bags in both hands. 
“hi,” you spew out awkwardly, looking around while smiling uncomfortably. 
“oh,” he says, eyes flashing to yeonjun, then back to you, “i’m sorry if i’m interrupting something.”
almost right on time, yeonjun whips his head back on with a gentle smile on his face, “nope! not interrupting anything. i’ll be right back.”
you made an internal reminder to yourself to scold yeonjun the next time you got the chance. in the meantime, you were stuck with mark, with a huge crowd surrounding the two of you. he was so close to you, just staring with his bottom lip tucked in. you were unsure of what to do, whether to leave or to stay, to say something or be quiet, you were just fighting a battle with your own mind.
“i thought you two weren’t dating?” mark lets out.
“we aren’t.”
“but you spend so much—”
“what are you doing, mark?” you question, but in a rhetorical way. you’re irritated, no, beyond irritated. “you rejected me. you can’t just show up wherever i go and ask if i’m dating someone, do you understand how messed up that is? you can’t keep putting ideas in my head, i’m not ready to open up to you again. why can’t you see that?”
mark is silent throughout your entire rant, possibly taken aback, but he should have seen this coming anyway. 
“my dating life does not concern you, and i already mentioned that yeonjun is not my boyfriend. why do you care so much?”
at this point, you’re sure you’re fuming. you were so frustrated you swore you could feel the tears building up in your eyes, but you ignored it. you were just glad that the crowd was loud enough for your voice to be easily unnoticed, only for mark to hear. you can see his eyes softening as your breath was becoming heavier, your chest visibly growing and shaking.
“i’m so sorry,” he says again. you’re sick of that phrase, hearing it so often made you forget the meaning. 
“if you were sorry you would leave me alone,” you nearly cried. you were done with trying to maintain some sort of friendship with mark, he just didn’t get it. you were so tired of the same routine.
“everyday you text me, every time i see you, is a reminder that this is all we can ever be. it may not be your intention, but you have to understand that it hurts me.”
the guilt in mark’s eyes start becoming more evident, his mouth opens, but no noise comes out. he’s dumbstruck, tears forming in your eyes. he takes a step towards you, and you take a step back. he keeps walking forward, though. he’s close enough so that you can see the details of his skin, and your heart pounds once again.
he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. you try to push away, but he doesn’t let go. “i’m sorry,” he repeats again, burying his head into your shoulder.
“you can’t keep saying that,” your tears finally begin to fall as you can’t do anything but melt in his arms. your eyes continue to pour out onto his bright blue hoodie while he holds you close. 
“it’s okay,” he comforts you, which reminds you of why you were crying in the first place. you harshly shove him off, forgetting about the other people around you. 
“it’s not okay! you can’t just do that–”
“yoojung asked me out.”
your mouth parts slightly as you stand frozen. you didn’t know if it was possible for your heart to break twice, but if it was, then yours just did. you muster a tightlipped pity smile.
“oh,” you manage to say, dropping your hands. “i-i’m happy for you..”
is this what life was meant to be for you? an endless cycle of heartbreak? were you just never meant to have anyone? you don’t know why you’re so devastated, you knew this would happen. she was just so beautiful and so confident in herself, and mark was mark. he was the typical boy next door (literally). you felt as if all the energy had been drained out of you as you stared at him.
“i said no.”
you expected yourself to be happy in this moment, but there was so much confusion lacing your thoughts. 
“why?”
“because-”
“no.” you stop him, “you’re not about to tell me you said no because of me. you can’t just show up and tell me you said no to yoojung because you like me. i won’t let you. i did not cry myself to sleep several nights for you to come back to me and say something like that. my feelings aren’t a game, mark. and my love life isn’t a book.”
“i would do anything to make it up to someone like you,” he puts his soft hand onto your cheek, as he searches your eyes for any sign of forgiveness. 
god, you hate to admit that this is what you’ve wanted this entire time. for your entire time apart, you just wanted him to do exactly this. you try your best to fight it off though, only because of how embarrassed you were.
“y-you can’t.”
shit. you’re stuttering.
“i’m serious, y/n,” this time, mark puts both hands on either sides of your face.
“i know i’m confusing you right now, i-i know that i put you through so much trying to figure out my own feelings. it wasn’t fair of me! you deserve the best, really.. i thought about it ever since you told me. it messed me up so bad. i couldn’t get you out of my head, i didn’t know if it was because i missed you as a friend o-or there was more to it..”
“stop saying that! you’ve had feelings for yoojung for ages. how can that just go away?”
mark sighs, dropping his hands. “i don’t know, dude. maybe after i started talking to you more and more, my feelings for her eventually just became an infatuation. all i know is when she wanted to be more than friends, i knew that i didn’t want that.”
at this point, you’re more than confused. you’re completely baffled.
“it sounds stupid. i am stupid. i just don’t know how to tell you this, i don’t want to be with her. i want to just be with you, whether or not if it’s as friends again or.. you know. if you don’t see me like that anymore, i completely understand and i’ll try to get over how i feel. but then again, just say the word and i’ll never talk to you again. i promise you.”
there’s an annoying amount of feelings clouding your brain, the grip that mark had on your heart was beginning to ache a little more as the words fell off his lips. in the end, you spent days hurting because of him, and you hate to say that it was never his fault, because that’s the truth.
“you know i don’t want that,” you say quietly.
his eyes widen, “really?”
“i’ve been feeling terrible lately because of our situation, but whether we’re in a relationship or not, the time i spent with you was the most fun i’ve ever had. but you have to understand that it’s taken a huge toll on my feelings.”
he goes quiet again, taking your hand into his. “do you think you would want to be in a relationship with me?”
there it is. what you have been wanting to hear for so long, when he finally says it, you can feel your heart bounce.
you bring your lips to his cheek, giving it a small peck. you’re not sure if that was the right move at the moment, but you’re glad that his lips curve into a cute grin while a tint of pink covers his cheeks.
“i’m kind of new to this.. so was that a yes?” he asks, earning a small giggle from you. 
“i don’t know, i mean if you’re asking me to be your girlfriend, then it’s a yes.”
“thank god,” he lets out, pulling you into a warm hug. “i don’t know what my life would be without you. and i swear, i won’t hurt you like that again. i’m sorry i took so long to figure things out, i just didn’t want to mess you up even more.”
his arms are wrapped around your waist, almost like he’s afraid to let you go. the business of the night market thankfully does not ruin your moment, but enhances it. he pulls away but still keeps his arms around you, looking into your eyes.
“can i kiss you?” he sounds so nervously cute, you don’t answer him. all you do is initiate it, leaning in to press your lips onto his own.
it’s relieving, being able to do this years after your first kiss. his lips still taste of watermelon flavoured chapstick as both of your eyes flutter closed. the kiss is soft, it pretty much fit everything you had been dreaming of ever since you started liking mark. 
you both pull away, looking like the happiest people ever. 
“hm, you still use the same chapstick?” mark says as the mood continues to lighten. 
“i could ask you the same thing.”
“fair enough.”
when you pull away from each other to stand side by side, he doesn’t stop holding your hand. he keeps them interlocked, his thumb stroking the back of your palm. 
“would it be weird if we called this a date?” he says into your ear.
“first date and first kiss in one night? you’re feeling confident today, what did you do to the real mark lee?” you jokingly reply, the tears from earlier beginning to dry.
“oh shit you’re right.. is this too fast?” 
the awkward mark returns faster than he left, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. 
“no stupid, of course we can call this a date.”
he sighs in relief, pressing a kiss to your temple.
yeonjun comes back with wide eyes and an open mouth, staring directly at you two. “what the hell did i miss?”
you shrug your arms, “not that much.”
the rest of the night is fun filled shopping, matching rings, and delicious food. as soon as the photos were uploaded, jaemin was quick to call you and scream in your ear about how happy he was for you, and how he knew in the end that everything would work out.
so, yes, you do not think your life is like a romantic novel. it’s quite the opposite, actually, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. in spite of the hurt, you thought it was all worth it, and mark does not hesitate to agree with that statement.
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dragomer · 5 months
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Infamous had a character eho went by She and They pronouns interchangeably as in one sentence would have both She and They to refer to the same character
That one is even worse because then you never know if the characters are using 'they' as an undefined or to signify they don't know her much / some distance or if it was just some pronoun stuff.
There's a lot of subtlety to writing that american pronouns shenanigans turn into pure gibberish.
Thanks for the ask ^^
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