#��it’s time for you to break your strings.’

[chobunz]

Hey :) I’m just now getting into enhypen, so tell me, what do you think they’re like in bed?

haiiii srry i took so long to complete this but nonetheless i hope you still like it !! i only did hyung line so i hope that’s okie </3 kinda went a little overboard and started yapping tew much in this one lol oopsies..

pair: hyung line ㅊ f!reader | warnings: smut, d/s dynamics, oral (m + f. rec), fingering, praise/degradation, c.ckwarming, p in v, a bunch of other nasty stuff i don’t feel like typing out lmfao

heeseung

don’t even get me started with this man omfg.. like he’s a literal sex god…

whether it be from his fingers, his mouth, or his dick he’s gonna make sure that you cum first always

will rip orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s nothing, not stopping until you’re a whining, convulsing mess under him, smirking with utmost pride from how good he’s made you feel

he lowkey strikes me as someone with a high sex drive so i feel like the minimum rounds you’d be going on the daily is AT LEAST 3 (though sometimes that still isn’t enough for him), he not giving that pussy a break i fear..

feel like he’d also be very into body worship, just completely and utterly devoted to pleasing every inch of you, taking his sweet time to savor all of you as if it’s his last time he’ll ever get to fuck you— your body is a work of art to him so he’ll treat it as such !

is obsessed with marking you, like there’s just something about leaving hickies in places where only you two can see privately <3

loves fucking you in missionary so he can see your pretty, fucked out face��� but is also a huge fan of doggie ‘cause he likes to spank your ass from time to time hehe

the way you feel around his cock, clamping around him with every thrust, has him moaning so much that he has to bite down on your shoulder to control himself ;(

will run slow circles at your clit with his thumb, other hand holding himself up to look at the way your face changes with pleasure

gets so horny for you and the way you repeat everything he says back to him as if you’re nothing but a dumb fuckdoll for him to use.. >~<

when he’s chasing his own high, his moans just get louder and louder, harmonizing with yours until he’s painting your insides with strings of white, quickly pulling out to watch his cum dripping out of you, admiring the beautiful mess he’s made of you ♡︎

jay

he’s the type of partner that would be sooo sweet and attentive and patient with you, like it doesn’t matter to him at all if you’re experienced or not; if anything he’d prefer to teach you new things !! (corruption kink goes craaazy)

he seems like he’d be more into passionate lovemaking rather than just pure fucking, just always treating you like the princess you deserve to be treated <3

loves the build up that leads up before you two actually get into it, like the heavy breathing in between slow, passionate kisses, pulling you in closer to him as you’re slowly grinding on him and the pauses to catch each other’s breaths just makes his brain short circuit 😣

is always telling you how pretty you look like while taking his cock, he’ll never ever get tired of the view of you on your knees for him as you’re sucking him off or while he’s fucking you in all kinds of different positions

i feel like he’s more soft dom leaning but i could also see him being a little mean sometimes, he knows how much you like it when he degrades you and tells you how much of a slut you are (only for him tho ofc)

is defff the type who talks you through it ><

pays close attention to your facial expressions and brushes your hair out of your face while kissing your lips every now and then, just needs to fill you up completely while he kisses you so gently in contrast to the hard and deep strokes he’s giving you. one hand on the side of your face, soothing you sweetly with each touch and the other hand playing with your tits

the way your walls flutter around him makes him feel dizzy, especially how you’re moaning as he fucks you nice and slow, praising you for taking it all so well. his good girl :(

would also be a big fan of cockwarming

idk why but i can just imagine you two chilling like that— you getting used to the feel of him inside of you while making out for a while, jay bringing his thumb down to rub your clit in slow, lazy circles

when you pull back to look at where you both connect together, you moan and he grabs your chin softly for you to look at him, finding your furrowed brows and fucked out expression so stinking cute !!

jake

THE BIGGEST WHORE OMG

like he’s such a freak but only when it comes to you, he’ll literally do anything you asked him to

in the beginning stages he would probs be a little shy at first, he’d be so gentle and delicate with you, kissing you sweetly as he inches himself slowly into you..

it’s like this for the first few times you slept together, taking his sweet time until you’d be able to take him with ease, and then the flip would switch— he’ll get a little more rough with you, calling you a dirty girl for him and how much you’re enjoying it

also strikes me as someone with a high libido, like he’s horny twenty four sevennnn, he’ll wanna fuck you any and everywhere

he hates condoms, he would literally rather die than to use one. is always begging to hit it raw each and everytime you guys fuck, he pinky promises that he’ll pull out !! (which only works about 60% of the time ..)

always always always wants to eat you out, he just can’t help himself he’s addicted to the way you taste, its like a drug to him. he’ll just randomly ask you out of nowhere if you wanna sit on his face and you allow him to do whatever his horny brain likes, plus with a face that pretty how could you not wanna ride it ???

this leads me to thinking about pussydrunk jake who’s so immersed in eating you out and fixated on your own pleasure, he could do it out for hours with absolutely no complaints on his end. it turns him on so much knowing how good he’s making you feel, he almost cums in his pants just from this alone..

i will say this time and time again, jake is very into recording during sex, he likes to record himself eating you out or fucking you, making sure the camera is super close up to capture all the little details; he’s built up quite the collection in his camera roll so far

is always so vocal in the videos, maybe even more than you tbh. he’d be asking you over and over if you like that and how bad you want his cock, he literally never shuts up. he gets a bit more intense when the cameras rolling, loving that you’re into it just as much as he is; you’re his little pornstar <3

sunghoon

i may be biased as hell but honestly i think he’s the biggest freak out of them all, like he’s the type who treats you like royalty when in public but in private ?? yeah, that’s a completely different story..

he just really really likes to fuck. morning sex, middle of the night sex, shower sex, phone sex, you name it. he’s literally down for everythinggg

feel like he’d also be very into corruption, slowly turning you into a sex obsessed freak just like him !! (twinsies)

will not give you what you want unless you beg for it. he likes when you use your words and tell him exactly what you need, if you want it that desperately then you’re gonna have to work for it, and you most certainly will

finds it endearing how much you squirm around and get all whiny as he’s fingering you, humiliating you when you can’t take it ‘cause how will you be able to take him if you can’t even take this small thing ??

he’d pitifully look at you as you’re stuffed full of his fingers, squeezing your cheeks together hard when you pout because you’ll take what he’s giving you and be grateful for it. idk it’s just very sexy— the contrast between his attitude when he’s training you in comparison to the real thing >_<

is a sucker for those cute innocent doe eyes you give him as you’re taking him down your throat, the sounds you make while choking around his thick cock, makes him so incredibly hard. he wants to use your mouth like a toy— his toy, until you’re a crying mess and feeds you with his cum <33

fucks.you.soooo.dumb

he eases into you ever so slowly, already too far gone as he feels warm walls hugging his cock, it has him moaning and throwing his head back in relief, and once he’s fully settled in, he will not be holding back

lots and lots of dirty talk !! will say the filthiest things to you in your ear all while pounding you from behind, you can barely even comprehend all of what he’s saying to you because of your fucked out state, all you can do is moan and repeat his name over and over in response

also loves it when you ride him, the way you’re bouncing on his cock and giving him the view of a lifetime, he’s never felt so desperate to cum before, groaning loudly as he feels you clench and unclench around him, milking him of all his cum

the aftercare is always so lovely and soft with him. he’d be acting like he didn’t just fuck you into a whole other dimension lol

idk, all i know is that i need hoon so badly.. y’all it ain’t even funny anymore :\

[steveseddie]

looking for something dumb to do

written for @steddiebingo 12 days of christmas mini event | prompt: proposal | rating: t | wc: 2,1k | tags: modern setting, past billy/steve, first meetings, flirting, fake proposal

read on ao3

Eddie sits at the restaurant, scrolling mindlessly on his phone, waiting for Wayne.

He laughs at yet another one of those hilarious videos of parents doing the Grinch prank on their kids. Seriously, there are so many and he finds them infinitely amusing. He just sent the latest one to Gareth, knowing he’ll get a kick out of it too, and is waiting for his reply when someone slides into the seat in front of him. 

He knows it’s not his uncle before he even looks up because he just texted Eddie to say he was running late– and ain’t that rich coming from the same man who’s always complaining about Eddie never being on time? 

Anyway. 

Eddie locks his phone just as Gareth’s reply comes in but he does get a glimpse of a string of laughing emojis before he looks up. “Sorry, man, that seat is–” 

But the rest of the words die in his throat when his brain momentarily stops working. It does that sometimes, especially around hot guys. Like the one sitting in front of Eddie, staring at him with a tiny frown between his eyebrows, probably wondering why Eddie stopped talking like he got sniped. 

“Taken. That seat is taken,” he finishes. Unlike me, Eddie thinks as he gives the guy an obvious once-over. 

“Shit, sorry, of course, but can you– can you hear me out for a second?” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, his interest piqued. The guy is hunched over himself like he’s trying to hide and his voice has a frantic tilt.

“Uh sure, man, what’s up?” 

The guy probably expected Eddie to tell him to fuck off because he lets out a relieved little sigh when he agrees to listen to him. Then he leans over the table, lowering his voice. 

“Do you see that guy with the mustache waiting at the entrance? He’s my ex-boyfriend and a dick and he just showed up with the girl that he cheated on me with,” he explains hurriedly. 

Eddie locates the guy waiting to be seated and the girl holding his hand. He’s hot and she’s hot but the guy sitting in front of him has them both beat.

“So I haven’t seen him since I caught them together and ended things with him and– you know when you break up with someone and constantly think about how things will go when you run into them again? How they’ll see you and realize they lost the breakup and made a mistake by letting you go?” Eddie gives a short nod and the guy keeps going. “Right so that was my plan, only there’s a problem because the guy I was meeting for dinner tonight stood me up and now I’m here alone and pathetic and fucking Billy is here with his fiancée! Yes, they’re going to get married! Even if he always insisted he would never do that and–” 

He keeps rambling but Eddie is stuck on the fact that not only did this guy get cheated on but also someone stood him up. What the fuck? 

If he ever went on a date with someone as hot as him, Eddie would lock him down faster than anyone can say–

“–help?” 

Eddie blinks. Shit. The guy just asked him something and he has no idea what it was. 

“Uh, s–sure, how can I help?” 

Despite his flawless attempt to make it seem like he was paying attention, the guy can tell Eddie zoned out at some point. It drags an amused chuckle out of him. “I thought I could sit here with you until they leave or until they are seated and I can sneak out without them seeing me,” he says, running a hand through his hair and giving Eddie a sheepish look. 

Eddie’s phone lights up with a text then. The guy’s eyes dart down, and even if he can’t read what it says, he makes his own assumptions. 

“Unless– unless your date is almost here and you need me to fuck off before they arrive?” He says, his expression turning panicked again. He moves his chair back as if to get up and leave, almost taking out the poor waiter.

Eddie reaches across the table and grabs hold of his sweater, stopping him. “Actually my date is just my uncle and he said he’s running late,” he says with his fingers wrapped around the guy’s wrist. 

His eyes flicker down, widening a little but he doesn’t pull his hand back. “So?” 

“So you can stay.”

The guy visibly relaxes. “Fuck, thanks so much–”

“Eddie,” he offers when the guy trails off. 

“Thanks, Eddie,” the guy says with a lopsided grin that makes Eddie’s chest flutter. 

Eddie nods and leans back until his chair is balancing on two legs. He has no choice but to let go of the guy’s sweater. “So what are we doing here? Are we friends? Are we on a first date? Have we been dating for a while? What’s the game plan, big boy?”

The guy sputters, adorably flustered. “We don’t– we don’t have to do anything like that, man.” 

“Why? I’m not pretty enough to make your ex jealous?” Eddie teases, pouting a little. 

“No!” The guy hurries to say then realizes what that sounds like and blushes furiously. “I mean– no, that’s not it. You’re definitely pretty. Handsome. Hot. Uh–”

Eddie can’t help the way his grin gets bigger with every compliment until he can feel his dimples digging into his cheeks. By then the guy’s face is as red as the tablecloth. “Oh keep ‘em coming, sweetheart. Flattery definitely works on me.”

He chuckles nervously. “It’s just– I can’t ask you to do that, man.”

“Do what? Pretend that a guy like me can get a date with someone as hot as you?” He leans forward again, resting his chin on his palms and smirking. “Oh, baby, it would be my pleasure.” 

“Jesus,” the guy mutters. Eddie’s blatant flirting doesn’t give him a chance to get his blush under control. “I guess we could pretend we’re on a date if you’re up for it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie notices Billy and his fiancée following a waiter to their table. They’re going to walk right past them and there’s no way he won’t see Steve. As they get closer, Eddie catches a glimpse of the engagement ring on the girl’s finger–

“I’ll do you one better,” he says as he gets an idea. “Do you trust me?” 

The guy lets out an amused laugh. “I just met you,” he says, and when Eddie shrugs like he’s saying– so? he adds, “Okay, sure, why not?” 

Eddie shoots him a grin. “What’s your name?” 

“Steve.” 

“Your full name.”

“Harrington,” Steve says, his face pulling into a frown. “Why do you need my last–”

“Steve Harrington!” Eddie says loudly, watching as Steve’s eyes widen almost comically. The people around them whip their heads in their direction, including Billy and his girl. Perfect.

“I was planning to do this after dinner but I just can’t hold myself back anymore,” Eddie continues just as loudly. He furtively removes one of his many rings before pushing his chair back and standing up. 

He shoots Steve a quick wink and drops down on one knee. 

“Oh my God,” Steve whispers disbelievingly as he understands what’s happening. His shock only makes Eddie’s plan more believable. 

“Steve, Stevie, sweetheart, I still remember the moment when we met like it was five minutes ago,” he starts, watching Steve’s lips twitch almost imperceptibly. “I remember thinking you were so fucking out of my league you shouldn’t even be talking to me, but fate willed it so, and now I’m lucky enough to call you mine. So now I ask you to let me call you mine forever. Steve, the love of my life, my Prince Charming, the best lay I’ve ever had, will you please marry me?” He finishes by holding up his ring, looking expectantly at Steve, wondering if he’ll play along. 

He does.

Wiping a fake tear, he leans forward on his chair, cupping Eddie’s cheeks between his hands. “Eddie, our time together might seem short but I’ve always known I was right to pick you,” Steve says and Eddie has to hold back a snigger when he follows his lead– sticking to the truth as much as they can. “Now I’m picking you again. Forever. Yes, I will marry you.”

The people around them start clapping when Eddie takes Steve’s hand and slides his ring on his finger. He presses a kiss to the back of his hand, earning some cooing from the two women sitting on the table next to theirs. Billy doesn’t clap and his nose wrinkles when Steve pulls Eddie to his feet and into a hug,  glaring at the back of his head.

Eddie can’t help but smirk against Steve’s shoulder. 

“You’re insane,” he mutters into Eddie’s hair. It should be weird hugging a stranger but Eddie actually enjoys it. It feels familiar somehow. “Thank you.”

Eddie pulls back and grins, his hands still on Steve’s hips. “Aren’t you glad you picked me, huh, sweetheart?” 

Steve lets out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

“Eddie?” A familiar gruff voice says and Eddie whips his head around to see his uncle approaching, his eyes darting from Eddie to Steve to Eddie’s hands on Steve’s waist and Steve’s arms looped around Eddie’s neck. 

“Wayne!” He says, his grin not faltering for a second. This isn’t the weirdest thing Wayne has walked in on when it comes to Eddie. “You’re just in time to meet your new son-in-law!”

Wayne’s eyebrows shoot up and next to him, Steve makes a strangled sound. 

Eddie signals a waiter and it turns out to be the same one who was guiding Billy and his girl to their table before. Billy is nowhere to be found, he probably scurried off to their table while Steve and Eddie were distracted with each other, hoping Steve wouldn’t see him. Serves you right, asshole, he thinks triumphantly. 

“What can I do for the happy couple? Congratulations, by the way,” the waiter says and Eddie beams, pulling Steve closer with the arm wrapped around his waist. 

“Thank you, kind sir. Can you get us another chair for my uncle?”

The waiter nods and goes to retrieve one. 

“Eddie, you don’t have to– I can just go–” Steve says, a faint pink blush covering his cheeks.

“I can’t let you leave, Steve. We’re engaged now, it’d look weird,” Eddie says, and it’s true but he also doesn’t want to say goodbye to Steve yet.

And maybe Steve doesn’t want to say goodbye either because he folds easily. “Yeah, okay.”

They explain to Wayne what he walked into and his uncle gets a kick out of it. He and Steve get along surprisingly well, and by the end of the night, it almost feels like Steve was part of their dinner plans from the beginning. 

Wayne leaves shortly after dessert but Steve and Eddie stick around for one more drink, neither of them wanting the night to end. 

It has to, eventually, but Eddie is pretty sure that this won’t be the last he sees of Steve, not after they spent the whole night getting to know each other and flirting up a storm.

On their way out they run into Billy and his girlfriend, and Steve almost seems surprised when they do. Like he forgot Billy was there, despite him being the reason why he talked to Eddie in the first place.  Their conversation is short but Eddie makes sure to hold Steve’s hand the whole time and call Billy ‘Bobby’ a total of three times just to annoy him.

After they leave, Eddie walks Steve to his car. 

“Thanks again,” he says, leaning against the door. “For helping me out. And for dinner.”

“It was my pleasure,” Eddie smiles. “We should do it again sometime.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Stage a proposal?”

Eddie chuckles. “Well, I was thinking about dinner but I’m always happy to get down on my knees for a hot guy,” he says with a wink. 

A slightly strangled laugh tumbles out of Steve’s lip but his eyes sparkle with interest. “Maybe let’s start with dinner. Just the two of us.”

They exchange numbers, promising to call each other. When Eddie turns around to start walking toward his van, Steve calls his name.

“Don’t forget your ring,” he says, sliding it off. 

But Eddie reaches out to stop him. “Keep it,” he says, “you can give it to me next time.” 

With a grin, Steve slides it back on. 

He ends up keeping the ring, but that’s okay because Eddie gets to keep Steve. 

[sheep-from-rad]

About the Reader who became Jason's roommate and all. I wonder what if they were so cold and distant with the family, they made sure for them to know that they are not a family. (They already closed their heart).

It can be things like, in class they won't talk with Tim unless they have to, like having a project together and if they do they'll only talk about the project if he tries to talk about something else she changes the subject or shut it down. All with a smile on their face, the way they talk is too professional and they won't let him involve emotions. "We are only talking about what needs to be talked about" they say.

The less subtle with Dick, Bruce and Damian because they come to them as vigilantes. Waking up to Batman and Robin cuddling them. They snap at them. Because first, "when did dressing as a furry and making kids fight crime with you turned to doing that to stalking civilians? And you claim to be my 'family' yet what family breaks into the house of someone and touches them in their sleep? That's not like family behavior but one of creeps!!"

They also snap at Dick for coming to them in his Nightwing costume. "Are you trying to put me in danger by associating me with your vigilant persona? What a good hero- what a good 'brother' you are."

With Jason, what if the reader didn't snap at him till now and told him about the three show up as vigilantes to a civilian, using his protectiveness against them in that way.

I don't know how may readers treat Jason but I can imagine that they don't cook for him and they don't eat what he cooks for them. They keep personal stuff like tooth brush and all of the personal things in their room. If he comes with injuries they will give him a first aid kit and clean the mess he made but mostly won't help him unless it is something he really needs help in like bandaging his back. Stay in their room for most of the time they are in the apartment.

I can imagine reader apartment hunting after Bruce by there's and stuff but also what if Reader got a better job that can help in that? What if the Reader decided that they will pay Bruce rent because to them he is nothing but their landlord? What if Reader managed to find another place to live in and became the roommate of a friend?

If the fam asked them to hang out or visit the manor they'd use the same words who were used against them when they were in the manor like "not now" "I have more important stuff to do" "don't you have other things to do?" "Go bother someone else" "stop nagging me". So it's like how they used to treat the reader at the manor.

I also feel like what they are trying to do is swipe things under the rug so, I can imagine them reaching the point where they try to confront reader and they just say "after treating me like nothing in my most valuable times of my life you think you can waltz back in my life and play family and I'd welcome you whit open arms? What kind of delusion is this?" "You are not my family and made it clear from day one. You can't just take it back, not after all the damage you've done."

Original fic: Jason's sidecar (Yandere Batfam x Neglected!Reader)

Masterlist

Jason had anticipated it. He was a child of neglect as well not just from his original parents but also partly from Bruce. He blames himself too when it comes to you. He’s the smart one next to Tim and he had read a lot of books on how to end the cycles of neglect and emotional abuse and yet he wasn’t able to help you. He may not say it but he feels like he deserves the current treatment he’s getting from you. And honestly, he’s fine with it. He’s fine with the coldness, he’s fine with the emotional distance. He’s fine by just being the shadow in your apartment who tucks you in your sleep at night whenever Bruce and Damian are out. 

Tim is not satisfied with it. He will pull strings to make sure that you and him will always be on the same assignments and projects. If he’s not in the same group with you then he will quickly bribe the weakest link in your group to swap with him. Tim would also use his bad sleep habits as a weapon. It started with him passing out of the class and the professor having to call you to get him home and now the professor has you on speed dial (do people still use speed dial) whenever it happens. Most of the time it’s just a ploy for you to go home to the mansion because sometimes you can’t just say no to Alfred. 

Bruce and Dick were hurt but it makes sense. The cowl and the masks protect the cities but too much attention is just as dangerous. At the end of the day even when they are tired, they have made it a habit to change clothes before coming to see you. Bruce is saddened over the fact that his relationship with you became transactional but much like Tim he would find ways to outsmart you. Whenever you pay him rent every month, he would slip back a hundred or two in the less conspicuous places. Most of the time you end up thinking it’s just money you forgot about. If you have those physical piggy banks, he will surely slip the rent back little by little. Dick would make it a part of his routine to be on constant lookout on Gotham’s apartment rent and leasing. Everytime an apartment lowers its initial rent, he would immediately book it and give it to a poor citizen (he’ll do it in secret and help citizens pay for the rent and even find a stable job to keep the apartment). He is also on the constant lookout in other cities as well with help of his other friends. 

Damian hates it. He thinks you’re being a brat and that you’re doing it for attention. The estate is the safest place in Gotham and you left it for independence? Why would you ever gamble your life for it? He wasn’t in the whole ‘get you back home’ plan and he respects your decision on leaving even though he hates it. He wasn’t on it until he found his fist clenching hard as he stood inside your now empty room at the estate. He knows of emptiness and yet the feeling of you being missing in that very room felt like he’s falling down the abyss. Bruce holds you two tight every night but Damian will hold you tighter. Arms tight on your midsection and head on your chest. He’s partly glad those grip training worked off.

[miedei]

hii, i saw your requests are open, so i was thinking how about spencer and reader have a fwb thing going on, but he always told her not to get attached, so she breaks things off and spencer seems fine with that, until he realizes that she goes on dates with other people so maybe they fight about it and they confess their feelings

YES i love this concept nonnie my love this is amazing

not jealous

wc: 1.2k

ex-fwb!spencer gets jealous, but he doesn't have any feelings for you... right?

cw: a little suggestive i think, i can't be held responsible for the things i think ab spencer reid, wrote this in a fugue state that's the only way i can explain this

(PS: reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

Penelope Garcia is one of Spencer's favourite people in the world, but at this very moment he feels the shameful urge to tell her to shut up.

"Honey, you'd love him! He's a doctor at the hospital a few streets down, so he understands the whole married-to-the-job thing, and he's smart! Just one date, my love, please? You can totally ghost him afterward if you hate him, though I don't think you will," Garcia is perched on your desk, right across from Spencers, so he can't tune this out, despite his repeated attempts to.

You can't help but sigh, staring up at Garcia as she continues to speak. She means well, you know that. You never told her what happened, but she can tell that you've been lonely, and she's doing everything she can to help.

You can't tell her, you know that, but it doesn't stop you from wanting to.

"It's probably best if we stay like this. We can be coworkers, friends. It'd be easier if we stay unattached."

The words Spencer said to you months ago are still fresh in your mind. You'd agreed, drunk on the feeling of being wanted, and you were aware that feelings would make things more complicated. You knew that, and yet-

"Spencer, we need to stop. I can't do this no-strings-attached thing anymore."

"Then we can- we can stop. We'll stay friends, right?"

"Right."

Months of stolen moments, hotel room beds, and tangled limbs had gone to your head, and cutting it off had been the best thing to do. Spencer had made it clear that your arrangement was only viable when both of you didn't have feelings, and you knew that.

Getting over someone is hard enough, but Spencer Reid is worse. He's always there, soft smiles and rambling conversations. He seemingly hasn't been affected by the end of your situation at all.

Snapping back to reality, you look up at Garcia, who's looking at you with a hopeful smile. You can see Spencer out of the corner of your eye, staring at his monitor like he couldn't care less who you date.

It's infuriating.

He's over it! He was probably never as attached as you were, why would he care if you date?

"You know what? Give me his number."

"Yes!" Garcia pumps a fist before swooping down to press a kiss to your cheek. "You won't regret this, I swear!" She grabs a business card out of her pocket and hands it to you, squeezing you one more time before flouncing off.

You fondle the stiff cardboard once, before placing it down on your desk.

Spencer hates him. James Lee. The cursive scripture on the business card stares up at him, mocking him as he tries to work. Your desk is always neat, knickknacks all in their proper spot, so the card is out of place, that's why Spencer can't stop sneaking looks at it.

He's a doctor. So is Spencer. Three times over! If you wanted to date a doctor, why not look for him instead of James Lee, MD.

A PhD's much better than an MD anyway. More effort.

He sighs. He's being petulant, he knows that. You're allowed to date people.

Even if Spencer's the one that knows the way you stretch when you've just woken up. Even if he's the one that's felt your skin under his hands. Even if he's the one that's learned how to elicit those sounds from you.

He can't take it any more, rising abruptly from his desk, stomping over to the kitchenette. The coffee pot is nearly empty, and he pours the dregs into his cup, spooning sugar into it with barely restrained movements.

He can hear Emily humming, Morgan tapping his pen against his desk. He can hear you, typing away at your phone.

He can't take it any more.

Stalking over to his desk, he picks up a random file, and stands by your elbow.

"I need to talk to you about this file. Can you help me find the other report?" He all but melts with relief when you set down your phone, following him to the storage room readily.

Being in close quarters like this causes memories to come rushing back, and you can't help the blush that comes to your face. Shaking your head slightly, you look up at Spencer, resolutely shutting out the images in your mind.

"What report are we looking for?"

He looks sheepish, but his eyes are intense as he looks down at you.

"There's no report. I need to talk to you." You tilt your head in confusion, focusing entirely on him. "Don't go on a date with him."

"What?"

"That guy." He nearly spits out his words. "Garcia's friend. Don't go out with him."

What? He's acting weird, completely still as his eyes blaze into yours.

"Why do you care if I go out with him? Garcia said he's a good guy, I trust her."

He shakes his head. "I'm- I'm sure he's normal. Nice. But you shouldn't go out with him."

He's infuriating, dancing around whatever he means.

"Why, Spencer? I think this would be good for me! I want to have fun."

"With him? You don't know him! Why not go out with someone you-" He cuts himself off, his hand flying to his hair in frustration. "Why this guy? Why not someone you know?" If it weren't Spencer, you'd say he was growling, his eyes dark.

Is he angry at you for going out with this guy?

"What? Are you seriously mad at me? For what?" His eyes flash at your words.

"Why date him? Why not-"

"Who would I date? You? Are you angry at me for dating someone else when we never dated at all? Spencer, you wanted no feelings! I did what you asked, I ended- whatever we were, because you said we shouldn't involve feelings!" Your chest tightens, looking away from him.

"What are you saying? You ended it because... Why didn't you tell me?" He ducks his head, trying to meet your gaze. You've had enough. Enough of his maddening words, making you feel bad for doing what he asked of you.

"Spencer, you're being unfair. What more do you want me to tell you? Do you want me to tell you that I wanted more? I ended it because I caught feelings, and you didn't want that, so I told you we had to stop because I couldn't hide it from you, not when we were always together, and-"

You're stunned into silence when his hands come up to frame your face, impossibly gentle as large fingers trace your jaw.

"You're right, I said that." A hand travels higher, cupping your cheek. "I shouldn't have, though. I should've... should've told you."

You can't help but whisper, the intimacy of the moment blanketing the small room in quiet. "Told me what?"

As if in answer, he ducks his head towards you, and you instinctually crane your head upwards to meet his lips.

It's practised, even if it's been a while. Your hands travel up his sides, bracing your palms on either side of his jaw as his come down to grip your waist.

His lips are soft yet insistent, pressing against you like he's trying to impart a message. Lips part, breath stolen, and it's minutes before either of you pulls back.

Your forehead presses against his, chest heaving. His eyes are light, and a breathless giggle leaves his lips as he looks at you.

"Don't go on that date. Please."

"You're going to have to take that up with Garcia."

[haechanniesluvr]

Why’d you only call me when you’re high? | Thanos x fem!reader

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪now playing: habits by tove lo…⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

synopsis: you and thanos had a messy break-up after a 2 year relationship. you knew of his addiction, and he never did anything to change it. sick of him not changing and you beginning to develop your own addiction, you left him. of course, he won’t let you leave his life that quickly, deciding to ring you every other day when he got high.

warnings: mentions of drug use, swearing, …high people(?), this is a little toxic, making out… messily, kind of smut?? help OH GOD I CANT WRITE SMUR IM SO SORRY ITS BAD SKJDKHDUHDWJK, okay they dry hump sorry

songs for this fic: never be like you (flume, kai), habits (tove lo), why’d you only call me when you’re high? (arctic monkeys), headlock (imogen heap), me and your mama (childish gambino).

…

vrrrr… vrrrr…

your phone vibrated against your bedside table for the 5th time in 10 minutes. begrudgingly throwing aside the book you were reading, you picked it up with a groan. whoever this was was beginning to piss you off. big text flashed on the screen, ‘DONT ANSWER!!’. your adrenaline pulsed through you. it was thanos, who you had decided to change the name of in your phone to avoid any temptation of texting him. you were a sucker for drunk texting, meaning everytime you got a little tipsy, you fucking missed him, missed the names he’d call you, missed his bright hair that you would run your fingers through, missed his co-

“baby..”

did you just answer that fucking call? thanos’ voice struck your ears as your eyes widened in disbelief.

“oh fuck uh-“ you stuttered out as you tapped your screen repeatedly, trying to hang up. as quickly as you had declined, the buzzing persisted yet again. swallowing your saliva and your self-respect, you clicked that green button.

“dont hang up. please.” his voice rang out again. thanos’ speech was slurred, a clear indicator he had taken a pill. again. you let out a shaky breath, awaiting his next few words.

“please just listen to me, you don’t have to say anything. miss you so fucking bad. and.. and it’s not the drugs saying that.” he inhaled deeply. “come over.”

“what?” you spat out, immediately sitting upright in your bed.

“come over baby… please. need you here.. need you in my arms, my beauty flower.”

…

your lack of self-respect was seriously astounding. as soon as you had hung up, you were running over to your front door, stringing a scarf around your neck and shoving on a pair of shoes. is this seriously how you were spending your night? the time stood 11:13pm on your phone as you briskly walked over to thanos’ apartment. god, he had no idea how much he played on your mind. it was stupid. you decided to end things, convincing yourself he had issues you couldn’t fix. but in the end, you were just like him. but you weren’t battling a drug addiction, you were battling an addiction to him.

you ran up the first flight of stairs, quickening your pace right over to his door. hesitantly, you raised your fist to knock. before you could, the door swung open.

thanos stood slumped against the doorway, resting his elbow against the frame. his brows were knitted, a glaze visible over his eyes. suddenly, he pulled you inside, slamming the door and pulling you tight to his chest. burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, his hands roamed around your back, fumbling to remove your coat.

“hold on, hold on,“ you protested, pushing him off you. you began shaking your coat off your arms, letting it drop to ground along with your scarf. his apartment was filled with a dark purple hue, caused by his led’s he had around his tv area.

his face had melded into one of desperation as he watched you remove your outer layers, and he could barely hold back pouncing on you. grabbing your wrist, he took you over to the couch, pulling you onto his lap.

“missed this pretty fucking face.” he whined as he cupped your cheeks, moving his hands down to your hips, squeezing slightly. childish gambino’s ‘me and your mama’ rung out through the apartment, the deep purple lighting making it hard to see, and just a little more exciting.

“can’t believe you. high as shit.. ringing me up like some desperate dog.” you spoke into his ear, feeling him grip your hips a little tighter.

reaching into his shirt, he pulled out his signature cross, popping out a small pill. he held it out on his hand, watching how you stared at it with wide eyes, visibly battling your morals. an idea surged through you. taking the pill, you stuck your tongue out and placed it on the tip before delving to his lips. your tongues tangled against each other as you felt the pill dissolve. he angled his hips up slightly, causing you to gasp into his mouth. a string of saliva connected your lips as you pulled away, both of your eyes hooded with need.

“you were always so dirty, i fucking swear. you drive me crazy..” thanos groaned, grinding his hips upwards harshly. a small whine slipped from between your lips as he latched himself onto your neck, licking and sucking dark hickies into the sensitive flesh. his hand held the back of your head, his rings digging in with how hard he was gripping you. his other hand on your waist, he had you in a way that told you he never wanted you to leave.

the music got louder, as did your moans with the way he was practically humping you through his sweats.

“god m’sorry… m’sorry i left you alone..” you whined out, pressing your forehead against his. “should’ve helped you..” he stopped for a moment, holding your face tenderly.

“m’getting better. promise baby.” he smirked, nipping at your neck again, his hands holding you against him as he grinded slightly faster against you. he found that one sensitive spot he knew all too well, the area where your neck meets your shoulder. he nipped it slightly, causing you to tug his hair. as you tugged, he moaned, pushing you harder down onto him, his ministrations getting faster indicating he was getting close. with every movement of your hips, he let out a small whine. these whines became louder and more frequent before he finally dropped his head onto your shoulder with a loud groan, hips twitching and rutting up into you as he stained his sweats.

you carried on moving against him, chasing your own high. you ignored his desperate grabs at your hips to get you to slow down, too focused on cumming against his sweats.

“wait baby please c-can’t.. cant-“ you kissed him, quietening him before your legs started shaking. he moaned into the kiss as he felt you convulse in his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. as you came down from your high, your body melted into his chest. his heartbeat was erratic.

“god, fuck, i’m gonna get sober for you. won’t loose you again flower i promise.”

[winwintea]

the call

PAIRING ↬ lee donghyuck x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ thriller, cheating!?, romance, angst(?), blood, attempted murder, i really don't know how to tag this, non-linear narrative, maybe horror

SUMMARY ↬ haechan leaves you a cryptic phone call on a night out. something about this doesn’t sit right with you.

WORD COUNT ↬3.3k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ surprise! this isn't the jisung fic but i decided to pull this one out of my sleeve as well. title and fic is inspired by "the call" by backstreet boys! the fic is also not written in linear order.

1 HOUR BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

“Hello?”

“Hi, it's me, what's up, baby? I'm sorry, listen, I'm gonna be late tonight So, don't stay up and wait for me, okay?”

“Where are you?”

“Wait, wait, say that again?”

“Haechan. Hello?”

“You're really dropping out, I think my battery must be low. Listen, if you can hear me, we're going to a place nearby, alright? Gotta go.”

4 HOURS BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

“Don’t pout,” Haechan teases, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. His voice is light, but his teasing smile can’t hide the affection in his eyes.

“I’m not pouting,” you argue, crossing your arms in mock defiance.

“You’re pouting,” he insists, stepping closer until he’s standing right in front of you. He tilts his head, studying your expression, before leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Admit it. You’ll miss me.”

“I won’t,” you shoot back, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“Liar.” He grins, tugging on the strings of your hoodie playfully. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave. Just a couple of drinks with the guys, and I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me for real.”

“Uh-huh. Famous last words.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him as he walks toward the door.

“Text me if you get bored without me,” he calls out, slipping on his sneakers.

“You mean when you get bored and want an excuse to leave early,” you counter, leaning against the doorframe as you watch him put on his jacket.

“Guilty,” he admits with a wink. “Alright, baby, I’m out. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you reply softly, watching as he steps outside.

This is normal. Haechan always goes out with his friends on Saturdays. You glance at your phone, opening the chat with him to send a quick, “Be safe. Don’t let them drag you into anything dumb.” You know he won’t see it right away, but it makes you feel better.

30 MINUTES BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

You’re pacing the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. Haechan’s earlier call echoes in your mind. 

I’m going to a place nearby.

The shrill sound of your ringtone breaks through your thoughts, and you nearly drop the phone in your scramble to answer.

“Sunoo?” you ask, recognizing the name on the screen.

“Y/N, hey,” Sunoo says, his voice laced with hesitation. “Um, I’m sorry if this is weird, but I thought I should tell you something.”

Your stomach twists. “What’s wrong?”

“I just saw Haechan… I think,” he says nervously. “He was walking down the street near the bar, but he wasn’t alone.”

Your breath catches. “Who was he with?”

“A woman,” Sunoo admits reluctantly. “She was… kind of close to him. Like, really close. I thought it was weird because he looked tense—like he was nervous, while also trying to relax. But she was smiling, laughing. I didn’t want to assume anything, but…”

You sit down on the couch, your legs threatening to give out. “Where did you see them?”

“Toward the alley near the old convenience store. They were walking away from the bar,” Sunoo says, his words spilling out quickly. “I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure if I should get involved or assume anything, but I thought you should know.”

Your mind races. That’s not far. But why would he leave the bar with a woman?

“Thanks for telling me,” you manage, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, I don’t think he—” Sunoo starts, but you cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’ll figure it out. Thank you.”

You hang up before he can say anything else, your hands shaking as you dial Haechan’s number.

“Come on, pick up,” you mutter, pacing again. The call goes straight to voicemail. You redial, but it’s the same result. “Haechan, please, just call me back. I don’t care what’s going on—I just need to know you’re okay.”

You end the call and clutch the phone to your chest, trying to steady your breathing.

You didn’t think he was cheating. You didn’t want to think that. But what if he really was with another woman? What if he lied about being late?

“No,” you whisper to yourself. Haechan wasn’t like that. You trusted him. But then why did he sound so strange on the phone? And who was this woman?

Your phone buzzes again, but it’s not Haechan. It’s a message from Sunoo: “Don’t make any assumptions. He looked… scared. Either he’s nervous about getting caught or something else. Be careful. Don’t do anything rash.”

Scared? Your chest tightens as panic fully takes over. Something is horribly wrong.

Without another thought, you grab your coat and keys, determined to find him yourself.

3 HOURS BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

The bar is alive with energy—music thumping, glasses clinking, and conversations overlapping. Haechan sits at a table with his friends, a round of drinks between them. He laughs at something Jaemin says, his head tipping back as he taps the table.

“Another round?” Jaemin asks, holding up his empty glass.

Haechan shakes his head. “I’m good for now. You’re not dragging me into your three-shots-in-five-minutes challenge again.”

“Come on,” Jaemin groans dramatically. “You’re so boring these days, man. What happened to the Haechan who used to party like a legend?”

“He got a girlfriend,” Renjun cuts in, smirking. “And he doesn’t want to die if she finds out he got plastered without telling her.”

The table erupts in laughter, and Haechan just shrugs, grinning. “Hey, priorities. Y/N’s cuter than all of you combined.”

As the guys banter, none of them notice the woman until she’s standing right by their table. Her hair is sleek, her makeup flawless, and her gaze sharp as she focuses entirely on Haechan.

“Hi,” she says, her voice smooth and confident. “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room.”

Haechan blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Oh. Uh, hi.”

She smiles, leaning in slightly. “You looked like you were having fun, but maybe later… I’ve got a little place nearby. Wanna go?”

The air shifts awkwardly at the table. Although her invitation is innocent, her intentions are clear. Haechan’s friends exchange glances, their smirks fading as they realize what’s happening.

Haechan’s smile is polite but firm. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m good. I’ve got someone waiting for me at home.”

Her smile falters for a split second before she recovers, her tone light but insistent. “Are you sure? It’s not far, and I think you’d enjoy it.”

Haechan shakes his head. “Thanks, but no. Have a good night.”

She lingers for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly, before she finally steps back. “Your loss,” she murmurs, turning on her heel and walking away.

As she moves to a dark corner of the bar, Haechan exhales, muttering, “Well, that was weird.”

Jaemin snorts. “You should’ve seen your face, man.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Haechan says, waving him off. But something about the encounter reminds him of something. He glances toward the woman, and for a fleeting moment, their eyes meet. 

Oh fuck.

15 MINUTES BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

The air is cold against your skin as you hurriedly zip up your jacket and step out into the night. The street feels far too quiet for a Saturday evening, the streetlights casting long, eerie shadows on the pavement. You clutch your phone in your hand, gripping it like a lifeline as your mind races.

Sunoo’s text flashes in your head: “Don’t make assumptions.”

But when Sunoo had told the others, they weren’t so sure. 

“Y/N, maybe you should stop and think,” your friend Jihoon had said on the phone. He had called you as soon as Sunoo relayed the information to him. “I mean, I don’t want to make you upset, but what if… what if Haechan’s just—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you had snapped, cutting him off. “You think he’s cheating, don’t you?”

There had been a long pause on the other end before Jihoon finally said, “I mean, what else could it be? Sunoo said he was with some girl, right?”

You’d hung up after that, unable to handle the doubt in Jihoon’s voice. But then Giselle called, her tone softer but no less skeptical.

“Y/N, I’m worried about you,” she’d said. “I know you trust Hyuck, but... sometimes people surprise you. Maybe he’s not who you think he is.”

“He’s not cheating,” you’d insisted, though your voice had wavered. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Then where is he?” Minjeong asked, and for a moment, you’d felt your resolve crack.

But now, as you march down the sidewalk, your determination solidifies. You know Haechan. You know how much he loves you. And that phone call—the rushed tone, the way he kept cutting out—wasn’t the voice of someone sneaking around. It was the voice of someone in trouble. At least you thought so.

You stop at the corner of the street, glancing around desperately. There’s no sign of him. You dial his number again, only to be met with voicemail. Your heart pounds harder with each failed attempt to reach him.

Finally, with trembling hands, you call the police.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“My boyfriend is missing,” you say, your voice breaking. “I think—I think something’s wrong. He called me earlier, and he sounded…nervous. And now his phone’s off, and my friend saw him with a strange woman—please, I need help.”

The dispatcher asks you a series of questions: Haechan’s description, the last place he was seen, the time of the call. You answer as best as you can, your voice growing shakier with every detail.

“We’ll send an officer to patrol the area,” the dispatcher says. “Please stay where you are and remain calm.”

But you can’t stay put. You hang up and keep walking, your eyes darting to every shadow, every alley.

“Y/N, stop.”

You turn to see Sunoo jogging up to you, his face etched with worry. Behind him are Jihoon and Giselle, who look less concerned and more resigned.

“We told you not to do anything rash. What are you doing?” Jihoon asks, crossing his arms. “The cops will handle it.”

“I can’t just stand around and wait!” you snap. “Something’s wrong, Jihoon. I can feel it.”

“What if there’s nothing wrong?” Giselle says carefully. “Y/N, what if he just… didn’t want you to know where he was going?”

“Stop,” Sunoo interjects, glaring at her. “I told you he looked nervous and scared. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what I saw.”

“Or maybe you’re overthinking it,” Jihoon mutters.

You shake your head, tears pricking your eyes. “I know Haechan. He wouldn’t do this to me. If he hasn’t come back, it’s because he can’t.”

Your voice cracks, and Sunoo places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll find him,” he says softly. “Let’s just keep looking.”

Jihoon sighs, but he and Giselle reluctantly follow as you start walking again. 

Haechan didn’t betray you. You were going to believe in this. And you’re going to find him, no matter what.

12 HOURS AFTER THE INCIDENT:

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor is the first thing Haechan registers as he slowly comes to. His body feels heavy, his limbs weighted down as though they’re not his own. He tries to move, but the sharp sting radiating from his side stops him.

“Where…” he croaks, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. His throat feels like sandpaper.

“You’re awake.”

The unfamiliar voice makes him flinch. His head turns slowly, and he squints through the bright, sterile light. A nurse stands by his bedside, adjusting the IV bag hanging from a metal pole. She’s wearing a kind smile, but there’s a shadow of concern in her eyes.

“Where am I?” he manages, his voice rasping.

“You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital,” she says gently. “You were brought in last night. Do you remember anything?”

His mind feels like it’s wrapped in fog. He struggles to piece together fragments of memory, but it’s all blurry—flashes of faces, the sound of a scream, and an overwhelming sense of fear. His stomach twists.

“I… I don’t know,” he admits. “What happened?”

The nurse hesitates. “You were found unconscious in the middle of the road. You have some injuries—a fractured rib, a concussion, and some deep bruising. You’re lucky someone called the paramedics when they did.”

Someone. Who? His thoughts race, but they’re disjointed, scattered.

“Was I… alone?” he asks, his voice trembling.

The nurse’s expression flickers with hesitation. “There were others. Two men—they were taken to surgery for more severe injuries—and a woman. She’s stable now but hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

Haechan’s breath catches. A woman. His mind scrambles for answers. The image of a smile—sharp, too wide—flickers in his memory, and a chill runs down his spine.

“Who… who is she?” he whispers.

“We don’t know yet,” the nurse replies. “The police are looking into it.”

Police.

His heart races, and the beeping of the monitor speeds up with it.

“Easy,” the nurse says quickly, pressing a hand to his shoulder to calm him. “Don’t push yourself too hard. You need to rest.”

Haechan squeezes his eyes shut, trying to slow his breathing. But his mind won’t stop spinning. Through the haze, he catches snippets of conversation from outside the room.

“…police said they found them restrained…”

“…looks like they were attacked…”

“…the woman was armed. Dangerous.”

Haechan’s stomach churns. He wants to ask, to demand answers, but his body betrays him, too weak to do anything but listen.

The nurse finishes adjusting the machines and steps back. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake. If you need anything, press the call button, okay?”

He nods faintly, though he doesn’t feel okay. Not even close.

2 HOURS BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

The bar is alive with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the faint hum of music from the jukebox in the corner. Haechan leans back in his seat, laughing at a joke Jaemin just cracked. His glass is nearly empty, condensation sliding down the sides as he swirls the last bit of his drink absently.

It’s been a good night. Lighthearted, carefree. Exactly what he needed after a long week.

But then, his phone vibrates on the table, cutting through the noise. Haechan picks it up, glancing at the screen casually. The glow of the display reflects in his eyes, and in an instant, the ease in his expression vanishes.

His smile falters. His face drains of color.

The others don’t notice at first, too caught up in their conversation. But as Haechan’s eyes scan the message, his fingers tighten around the phone, his knuckles turning white. His shoulders stiffen, and his breathing becomes shallow.

“Everything okay?” Jaemin asks, nudging him lightly.

Haechan doesn’t answer right away. His gaze is fixed on the screen, his lips pressed into a thin line. His thumb hovers over the screen as though debating whether to respond, but instead, he locks the phone and places it face down on the table.

“I’ll be right back,” he mutters, his voice low.

Jaemin frowns, his brows knitting together. “You good?”

Haechan forces a nod, though his expression betrays him. “Yeah. Just… need some air. Plus I need to make a quick call.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabs his jacket and stands, weaving through the crowded bar toward the exit. His movements are quick but shaky, his shoulders slightly hunched as if trying to make himself smaller.

As he passes by the bar, he doesn’t notice the woman from earlier sitting at the corner, watching him intently. She swirls her drink lazily, her red-painted nails tapping against the glass in a rhythmic pattern.

Her eyes follow him as he pushes open the door and steps into the cold night air. A smirk spreads across her face, sharp and knowing. She lifts her glass, taking a slow sip, and sets it down with deliberate precision.

Her fingers curl around the edge of the glass, tightening until her knuckles strain. The corners of her mouth twitch as if she’s holding back a laugh.

“Right on time,” she murmurs to herself, her voice drowned out by the noise of the bar.

30 MINUTES AFTER THE INCIDENT:

Flashing red and blue lights cast frantic, distorted shadows across the street, the wail of sirens blending with the hum of voices—police officers, paramedics, and onlookers.

You stand frozen at the edge of it all, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Your chest feels like it’s caving in, your pulse racing so fast it blurs the world around you. It’s too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too real.

“Y/N!”

Sunoo’s voice snaps you out of your stupor. He reaches you in seconds, his hands gripping your shoulders as if to anchor you. “Breathe,” he urges, his voice trembling. “You have to breathe.”

But how can you? How can you breathe when the man you love might be—

You blink hard, tears streaming down your face, and your gaze shifts to the ambulance parked nearby. Paramedics wheel someone out on a stretcher, their face obscured by oxygen masks and bloodied bandages.

Haechan.

Your knees buckle, and Sunoo catches you before you hit the ground. “Stay with me,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “He’s alive, Y/N. He’s alive.”

But alive doesn’t mean okay. Alive doesn’t mean safe.

Jihoon and Giselle appear beside you, their faces pale and grim. Giselle’s hand wraps around yours, squeezing tightly. “We don’t know what happened,” she says, her voice hushed but firm. “But he’s in good hands now. They’ll do everything they can.”

You nod, but it’s hollow. Empty. The truth is, you don’t know if anything will be enough.

None of this adds up. And it’s eating at you.

The stretcher disappears into the ambulance, the doors slamming shut behind it. The sirens start again, louder this time, and you flinch as the vehicle speeds away into the night.

“What if this is it?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Giselle shakes her head. “Don’t think like that.”

But you can’t help it. Your mind spirals, filling in blanks with the worst possible scenarios. Did he crash his car? Was it an attack? Did that woman—

You double over, clutching your stomach as the weight of it all hits you. “I should’ve stopped him,” you sob. “I should’ve done something.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jihoon says firmly, though his own voice shakes. “Whatever happened, it’s not your fault.”

A police officer approaches, his face grim. “Are you Y/N?”

You nod, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “Yes. Is he—what happened? Is he okay?”

The officer hesitates, his eyes flickering to your friends before settling back on you. “We’re still piecing everything together, but… it doesn’t look like an accident.”

Your blood turns cold. “What do you mean?”

“We’ll need your statement,” the officer continues. “But for now, all I can say is… this was deliberate.”

The word hits you like a slap, leaving you breathless.

Deliberate.

“Do you know who might have done this?” the officer asks, pulling out a small notepad.

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Because the truth is, you don’t know. You don’t know who she is. You don’t know why Haechan was with her. And you don’t know why this happened.

As the officer steps away, your gaze shifts to the darkened street where it all began. The ambulance is gone, the chaos fading as the night swallows the scene whole.

And as your friends hold you in comfort, you can only wonder. How did everything go wrong?

part 2 maybe 😛😛 ?????

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[ashonheavenscloud]

mission accomplished || c. vernon

warnings: none! || wc: 1.1k

a/n: from another round of frantic fanfic with mi amor @lixiesfreckless !! enjoy <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"Vernon, what are you-"

"I know, I'm sorry, I just-"

You step aside, bewildered but not in any way bothered by your best friend's impromptu appearance at your apartment door, despite it being nearly midnight. You're already in button up pajamas and fresh from a shower, a mug of tea forgotten on the coffee table. You were going to binge a show, but all plans for the evening have been wiped from your mind at the sight of the man running an anxious hand through his brown curls as he steps into the room. You notice immediately the guitar strapped to his back. He paces once, twice next to you, before blowing out a breath.

"What if I mess up-"

"Vernon, you've been practicing the song for weeks, you’re not going to mess it up just because you’re finally playing it in front of its intended audience—-“

“What if she doesn’t like it?” He blurts and turns to look at you, and your jaw nearly drops at the suggestion.

“Vernon…if she doesn’t like it then her and I are going to have some serious beef,” you chuckle, but seeing as how your joke does little to calm his nerves, you place a steady hand on his shoulder.

“Listen to me. You’re a talented artist with a good heart. The song is amazing, and heartfelt and…sweet,” you feel a slight pang of something in your chest, but ignore it and continue, “if she can’t see that through this, then she doesn’t deserve—-“

“Can I practice it with you, one last time?”

You hesitate, although you're not entirely sure why. You've heard it several times before, even if not in its entirety. Vernon had been working on it for ages, strumming chords and humming melodies and writing potential lyrics in his little music journal while you studied or binged your shows. He'd played you pieces, snippets, and they'd been beautiful. To hear it now, performed all the way through, in preparation of Vernon's confession, has your voice caught in your throat, a sour taste in your mouth that you can't explain.

But he's your best friend, and his pleading eyes break through any consideration of refusal before you can even truly contemplate turning away. You could never do that to him. "Of course you can."

You lead him to the couch and sit on one side, letting him set up the instrument and check that it is carefully tuned. His hands, you notice, are shaking. God, he must really be nervous to play this for this girl. Your heart aches for some reason seeing him shift in his spot.

"Okay," he eventually murmurs, seemingly half to himself. You're not sure how else to help him relax, so you just tap his foot with yours to get his attention. Once his eyes glance up to meet yours, you smile slightly.

“Pretend I’m her,” you say, and the words taste bittersweet as they roll off your tongue.

After one more shaky breath, he begins to strum.

You’re glad he decided against playing with a pick for this song, because the gentle plucking of the strings is way better suited for the lyrics, at least to you. You allow yourself to fall into the simple melody as the notes envelop you, until you begin to imagine another reality; one where this song was meant for you.

Vernon's voice is quiet, but as the song continues, he appears to gain more confidence. Still maintaining a delicate softness to his tone, the lyrics roll from his tongue with an assuredness. You close your eyes, simply listening as the beautiful song fills the otherwise silent space.

By the time Vernon's voice fades and the last notes disappear from the air between you two, your lungs feel constricted, your heart torn between wishing you could have listened to him for an hour, and wishing you could bolt from the room, escape to somewhere that would allow you space to gather your emotions into carefully sorted compartments instead of the tornado that fills your chest.

Your eyes flicker open to find Vernon watching you intently, nibbling anxiously on his bottom lip, thumb hooked under the neck of his guitar and tapping the wood. You see him swallow, before quietly asking, "So... what'd you think?”

“I think it’s perfect, Vernon,” you answer honestly, subconsciously laying a hand atop his. “It’s beautiful, and heartfelt, and…” you pause before finishing your thought with a gulp, “it’s hard not to fall in love after hearing that.”

It would be hard is what you meant to say, and judging from the flicker of confusion on his face, it’s what he expected to hear too—- but he seems to brush the slip up off entirely, running a hand through his curls before speaking.

“Thank you for…well putting up with all of my nerves about this whole thing,” he sighs, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck and moving the guitar off the couch to rest beside it. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

"I get it. This is... vulnerable." You swallow thickly. Now that the song has finished, and the moment has broken, a bitter taste fills your mouth. You've been forcefully pulled back to reality, reminded that this isn't actually yours. "I don't know if I could be as brave as you, to sing this for someone you care about so much. There's really no way she won't love it."

Vernon doesn't answer right away, bouncing his knee before glancing at you. He's always had an intense stare, but for some reason, this particular look in his eyes steals the air from your lungs.

"In that case..." he inhales deeply, and blows out in his next breath, "Do you? Love it, I mean?"

"What? Of course I-" Wait. Wait.

Vernon's nerves are taking over again, evident in his rambling. "I'm sorry, I know I'm springing this... I didn't know how to tell you it was... you. But it's you, it always was for you, and if that makes you uncomfortable I-"

You don't give him a chance to finish, closing the distance between the two of you, slipping a hand behind his head and pressing your mouth to his. Vernon inhales sharply before immediately melting into the kiss, hands falling to your waist and sighing against your lips as you pull away with a grin.

Vernon’s eyes flicker open, all previous nerves visibly deflating from his body. “I take it you really do love it, then?”

You giggle and kiss him again, just for good measure, feeling lightheaded. “What do you think?”

Vernon laughs softly, squeezing your waist gently and pulling you closer to him, eyes alight with happiness. “Mission accomplished.” He murmurs with quiet delight before kissing you again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

seventeen masterlist

navigation

[miamooooo]

josh putting a bratty reader in their place.

(warnings): nsfw, reader has female anatomy, pussy spanking, cunnilingus, overstimulation, spitting, slightly proofread, sorry for any typos!

yes josh loves a mouthy or sassy partner. josh gives off vibes of enjoying someone with a little brattiness to their personality because he loves how unpredictable you are. he finds it so easy to tease you, and he thinks it's both cute and hot when you don't take his shit and call him out. but he also enjoys putting you in your place if he needs to as well.

so imagine getting mouthy with josh after he asks you a simple question. you're giving him the nastiest attitude, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.. and at first he thinks maybe you're just having a bad day, so he lets it slide... not without a few jokes that pisses you off, obviously. but if it persists...

josh is murmuring to himself as he makes his way to the bedroom. he stops by the doorway, forearm resting on the frame before he speaks. "hey babe, do you uh know the last place i left my hoodie?"

you look up from your phone, letting out a dramatic sigh before meeting josh's gaze. "really.. again? maybe if you took better care of your stuff, you wouldn't have to ask me every five seconds."

josh is so used to your smart mouth by now because he's awfully calm, tilting his head at you and pretending to be hurt by your little comment. "ouch. is that how you talk to your boyfriend?"

you roll your eyes at him, knowing that he was already starting to entertain the situation and enjoy it a little too much. "josh, don't piss me off.. you really don't wanna get me upset right now."

josh laughs at your pouty face, pushing off the doorframe and making his way closer to your sitting form on the bed. "oh, wouldn't i?" he teasingly ask. he really couldn't take you serious when you looked so cute trying to be all mean to him.

"you're so damn cute," he murmurs, leaning down and gently cupping your jaw in his hand. "but if you keep this up, i'm gonna have to remind you who you're talking to. alright, sweetheart?"

for a moment, the only thing you can do is stare up at him, contemplating if you should say something snarky back, and he's just waiting for the moment.. you can tell. he knows it'll happen, but you wanna try and prove him wrong.

... which is why you couldn't resist and replied with something bratty..

... which is also why you're in the current predicament of josh in between your thighs, lapping hungrily at your drooling and overstimulated cunt. this was the third time he was making you cum and no he didn't care about the way you were tugging sharply on his hair or how you whined out that it was all "too much," because you should've thought about that when he warned you the first time.

"mmh ohh fuck..!" you cried out, your voice trembling and legs threatening to close around josh's head, but his hands are moving to firmly grip your thighs, forcing them to stay open. he was purposely ignoring your cries of his name, his tongue flicking your puffy clit, humming in amusement at the way you babble out incoherent sentences.

you're moaning and drooling and josh loves how obedient you are when you're like this, how you're crying out strings of "..i'msorry-! promise i'll be good..!" and man he really wants to take your word for it, but he's gotten used to those empty promises, not even those pretty little tears could save you.

josh briefly pulls his head back, giving you false hope that he's finally giving you a break, only for him to spit directly on your clit before he's messily circling his tongue around the sensitive bud again, licking up his own saliva mixed with your arousal.

you're so out of it — eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling with the urge to cum again — you couldn't help the way you frantically started to buck your hips into his face until your cumming all over josh's mouth and chin.

"fuckfuckfuck- i'm cumming..!"

josh eagerly laps up your cum before pulling back and wiping his mouth, admiring his handiwork. he loved seeing you like this. whiny and so sensitive.. and completely not like your usual bratty self. he laughs softly to himself, impressed by how he's got you like a puddle just from eating you out, he could almost feel bad for you!

he brings his hand between your thighs to cup your overstimulated cunt, laughing when you're flinching at his touch and closing your legs around his hand. "keep 'em open, hon..." he warns softly, prying your legs back open with his free hand and pinning one of your thighs against the bed.

"mm-mm, no more..! too much.." you cry out, frustrated tears pricking the corner of your eyes that makes him fake a sympathetic pout.

"oh no.. oh no, no, no.." josh murmurs playfully, eyes softening at your vulnerable state as his fingers continue to caress your folds, coaxing moans and whines from your throat. he's so unserious, and it's absolutely infuriating. "don't tell me you're tapping out.."

and just when you think that he's finished having his fun with you, he's removing his hand — not giving you a second for a breather before he's bringing it down to land a sharp smack directly to your wet cunt, making you moan out in shock and instinctively shut your legs around his hand again.

josh tuts disapprovingly, firmly pulling your legs apart again, his amused eyes meeting your glossy ones. "close your legs again, and i'm tying you down next."

"mnh, josh—!"

"keep. them. open."

you're crying out loudly again, eyes screwing shut and body jolting softly as he continues to smack your sensitive and weeping pussy with every punctuated word.

it feels like it goes on for so long. you're trembling after each slap, struggling to be good and take what he's giving you, and josh just loved having you wrapped around his finger like this!

"that's it, sweetie... just a little more. i know you can take it." he coaxes with a few more teasing slaps before he's finally relenting and smoothing his hand over your sore skin.

by the end of it you're whimpering, chest heaving with relieved sighs as josh wipes away your stray tears. he coos at you in the most mocking way possible and gosh he just really didn't think that it was enough. he wanted to ruin you some more.

"are you gonna be good now?" josh asked, that stupid sarcasm still laced in his voice.

"m..mhm!" you frantically nod, hiccuping and whining out soft pleas as josh's gaze flicker over your tear-stained face. he stays silent for a moment, his fingers continuing to massage over your stinging and puffy folds that has you letting out soft whines. he's teasing you, letting the silence stretch for a moment longer before finally letting out a playful 'nah.'

"i don't think you're telling me the truth, hon!"

josh is nowhere near done with you! not even after hearing those soft and broken cries. if you could be bratty even after he warned you to behave, then you can handle what he gives you.

[m-jelly]

Hello Jelly! I hope your days are going good, happy late new year! If your requests are open and you're willing to write it, I have one. A Levi x reader who's a Selkie (A woman who can change between a seal and human by taking on/off her seal skin) where reader meets Levi in the corps. She was trying to bargain for her skin back from someone (who was trying to get married to reader by hiding her skin) and Levi steps in. They form a friendship, eventually fall for one another, and they get married. But what happens after she gets her skin back is up to you, feel free to ignore though.

What makes you whole.

Levi x selkie fem reader

Canon world, post-war Levi, married couple, emotional, slight angst, romance.

After settling down after the war ended Levi manages to track down your lost skin stolen from you. Conflicted by his feelings and what to do, he finally decides it's best to hand it back over to you and accept whatever you choose to do.

When he gazed at your skin, it was hard to know how to feel. It brought him joy knowing that the very thing that brought you together was right in front of him. It was so beautiful too, which was so typical of you to be incredibly beautiful because you always were.

Levi remembered when he first met you almost falling apart as you pleaded with a man for your selkie skin back, but he would only gift it if you married him. He saved you and discovered the man never had your skin. That meeting started everything, your romance and life grew from then on.

The love Levi had for you was deep and strong, so knowing he could possibly lose you by handing over this skin hurt his heart. Honesty was important between you and him, you'd tell him everything and he would you. Having this skin and not telling you would be a horrible sin.

He collected the skin wrapped it up and placed it in his bag. He grabbed the walking stick you gifted him and made his way home. Each step towards your home on the beach he felt a sinking feeling in his heart. You were a divine creature of the ocean, surely you'd leave him to go home.

He stopped when he came to the house and saw you outside hanging the washing. The bag he was holding felt unbelievably heavy. He released it causing it to thud against the floor. A sob of despair escaped him causing you to look over.

Hearing you run over and calling out his name only broke him more. Would this be the last time you'd run to him? Would this be the last time you held him? Was this the end of his happy life and love?

You cradled Levi's perfect face in your hands. "Darling, talk to me. What's wrong? Levi, please."

He shook a little unable to string a sentence together, so he simply said. "Bag."

"Bag?" Confusion was etched on your face. "What do you mean?"

He persisted and pointed. "Bag."

Piecing things together a little, you crouched down and opened the bag. Your hands stilled when you recognised what your husband had brought to you, your skin was back. "Levi, I..." You cast your gaze up to your husband who was breaking. "Thank you for finding it."

His legs gave in making him slip to the floor, but you caught him and cradled him in your loving arms. He sobbed your name. "I will miss you."

You frowned at his words. "Miss me? Am I going somewhere?"

He clung to you. "The ocean. It's you're home. You can go home now."

"Home?"

"Yes."

You shifted your wonderful body and cradled his face. "Levi, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you because I'm already home."

He sniffed as your words started to sink in, the pain in his heart subsided as love spread through him. "You are?"

Tears ran down your cheeks as you smiled. "Oh, you beautiful and romantic man. Yes, I am home. You are my home. I'm not going anywhere unless it is with you. I love you, Levi. I love you more than anything in this world." You kissed him passionately and tried to push your feelings into the kiss. "I love you."

Levi's pain washed away from your words and actions. "I love you too. I love you so much. You're my everything." He tilted his head and kissed you over and over, the more he did the more heated it became. "Thank you, thank you for staying."

You hummed a gentle laugh. "You're stuck with me, darling husband. I'm not going anywhere." You got up and pulled him with you. "Let's get you inside and this skin."

Levi grabbed the bag. "I've got it."

"It'll be a fun thing to show our kids. Mummy's seal skin."

A blush consumed Levi's cheeks and he walked with you home. "Yeah, it'll be fun for them."

You placed the bag down on the side before wrapping your arms around Levi. "Did you think I was going to leave you?"

"Mm."

You rubbed his back. "I'll never leave you. I'm yours, Levi."

He released a long sigh. "I know that now. I love you."

You kissed his cheek. "Thank you for thinking of me. I'm shocked you were willing to let me go, but that'd never happen. I'm forever yours."

Tags under cut

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid @abiatackerman

[cravinganotherworld]

Amorous - Chapter 2, Part 2. Frontman/ Fem! reader

Chapter 2, Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/cravinganotherworld/772200596177666048/amorous-chapter-2-part-1-frontman-x-fem?source=share

As you return from the second game you can't help but let guilt overtake you, your heart breaking the more you think of how you failed until Young il convinces you otherwise.

WARNINGS: Mention of cancer and illness, Y/N blaming herself, soft frontman.

NOTES - Chapter 3 may or may not be out later tonight, if not tonight 100% tomorrow.

Wordcount - 1k

Walking into the dormitory felt like a death march, no one spoke except the few murmurs of players amongst themselves as they watched your team walk through the doors. You felt a sense of guilt in your mind, why couldn’t you hit the stone, why weren’t you good enough? You could’ve killed your team…they could’ve been dead because of you. You wrap your arms around yourself and silently part from your team, walking across to your bed. You sit down and bring your knees to your chest, resting your cheek on them as you look to the side. Player 007 and player 149 sit together whispering under their breaths, you overhear player 149.

“If you leave here without me, I know you’ll be fine, but if I left without you….” Your heart strings tear as you hear her confession. They are clearly mother and son, you couldn’t imagine the pain if one of them had to leave without the other. Your mind wanders to your grandfather, it hurts that you can’t see him until you leave this dreaded place, IF you leave this place. You just hope he can hold on that long, you know he is strong, you wished you were as strong as him but alas your emotions and your heart get the better of you. After the last games you fight your heart with your head, you knew it to be logical to leave and find the money some other way but something was keeping you here…or someone. You mind began to wander, images of Young Il tying the rope on the spinning top infiltrate your mind, His veins so prominent, his grip so gentle yet tight at the same time, you wander what they’d feel like around you. As the thought enters your mind your face flushed a deep shade of red, yet a smile made its way onto your face.

Your mind continues to wander, so far that you almost don’t feel the tap on your shoulder. You shake your head and look up meeting the very eyes you had pictured not a minute before. Your cheek flush a deep Scarlett as your eyes connect.

“Are you okay? You’ve been by yourself for a while” your heartbeat quickens.

“I…I am sorry” you speak quietly tilting your head down to face your lap. Concerned, Young Il sits in front of you and takes your hands in his.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, hey look at me” you ignore his request letting your tears fall freely. You feel him shift slightly as he brings his hand to wipe your tears away, letting his hand rest on your cheek. “Look at me” he whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek as more tears fall. Using all of your courage you tilt your head to look up at him, seeing nothing but sadness in his eyes. “you have nothing to be sorry for, we survived, we made –“

“but what If we didn’t…?” you speak so quietly he almost doesn’t hear. “we’d all be dead and it’d be my fault” you whisper, sniffling as you bring your arm up to wipe away a few tears.

“No, no one is blaming you” you scoff and shake your head at him, your gaze moves to the group of players you had played the games with, all of them shooting glances in your direction. Suddenly you feel both of Young ils hands on your face, pulling your attention back to him.

“Hey” he speaks now with a firm but caring tone “nobody is blaming you, if you don’t believe me come and sit with us, they will happily welcome you in” his hands leave your cheeks as his arms return to his side, aiding in him rising off of your bed. He reaches out his hand to you waiting for you to take it. Gently you placed your hand in his wiping your cheek dry as you get up, yet young Il doesn’t move. He stands looking at you, your hand in his as you look back up at him taking in his every feature, from his dimples to the way his eyebrows furrow when a thought comes into his mind. You watch as he reaches up with his other hand and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, smiling in satisfaction when you lean slightly into his touch. “You’re too beautiful to let sadness ruin you” he whispers running his hand across your cheek and turning away from you to walk back towards the group still grasping your hand. As you reach, the group they all look up at you.

“You all remember y/n right?” Young Il asked. The group nodded and happily motioned for you to join them. You feel Young Ils grip on your hand loosen as he lets go, pushing you gently towards an empty space at the top of the stairs. You take your seat with him following suit, your thighs brushing together but neither of you making the effort to separate them.

“So, y/n, why are you here?” Dae-Ho asks. You smile at him and reply

“My grandfather, he is all I have left in this world. My parents abandoned me when I was a child so my grandfather is all I’ve known, last year he was diagnosed with cancer…” you stop as your stomach drops the more you explain. “I will do anything I can to pay for his treatment and save him” you finish with a shaky breath. Dae-Ho looks at you with sympathy in his eyes.

“A noble reason indeed, I am sure he’d be proud of you” Gi-Hun speaks You smile at him, the thought of making your grandfather proud is one that sticks in your mind every day. Suddenly a loud buzz echoes through the dormitory and pink guards begin to flood in, wheeling through the voting podium. Whilst the rest of your team stand and make their way to the centre of the room you sat still raking through your mind about what to do. Your head is telling you to leave, to be with your grandfather but your heart…your heart yearns to stay.

[mattsfavouritewhore]

Just Go part 4... The End - Chris Sturniolo

a/n: welcome to the end pookies!! enjoy

just go part 2 part 3

you felt like a stranger in your own skin as you pushed through the crowded party. The thumping bass of the music vibrated through your bones, but it couldn’t drown out the thudding of your heart. you had come here to escape, to forget, but now the weight of what happened earlier felt suffocating. Chris likes Harper. Not you.

Why did you even come? pushing past a couple of people laughing by the kitchen. But as you walked deeper into the house, your eyes naturally found Chris. He was standing in a small circle with some friends, but Harper—of course—was right there, leaning into him as if they were already in their own world.

The sight twisted something in your chest. It wasn’t just jealousy anymore—it was something sharper, like betrayal. seeing it now, in person, felt like salt in an open wound.

Before you could look away, Chris caught their eye. The flicker of recognition passed between you guys, and in that instant, everything seemed to stop. He excused himself from Harper and started making his way toward you. your pulse quickened, a mixture of fury and something else—something that felt uncomfortably like longing.

No. you couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not after everything.

When Chris reached them, he was breathing a little heavier than usual, clearly flustered. “Hey,” he said, running a hand through his hair, his voice hesitant. “You made it.”

You crossed their arms tightly, feeling a rush of emotions you couldn’t process all at once. you forced a tight smile. “Yeah, I thought I’d come for the free drinks and the real entertainment.”

Chris winced at the sarcasm. “I know things have been weird... but I didn’t think it was this bad.” His gaze flickered toward Harper, who was watching them from across the room.

Chris’s expression faltered, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, Y/N. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” you asked, unable to keep the edge from your voice. “You think you can just sweep everything under the rug, pretend like I don’t have feelings? Because here’s the truth, Chris: I’m not the one who needs to be protected here.”

Chris stepped forward, his voice dropping. “Y/N, I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe me. You’ve always been...” He stopped, looking lost for words.

“Always been what?” you challenged, your voice growing colder. “Your second choice? Your fall-back plan? Is that it?”

Chris’s face softened with regret, his eyes desperate. “No, you’re not that to me. I care about you. But...”

“But?” you repeated, cutting him off. “But what? You care about me, but you’ve been chasing Harper this entire time, Chris. How long were you planning on stringing me along? Because, news flash, I’m not waiting for you to figure it out anymore.”

Chris opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Harper suddenly appeared at his side, her voice dripping with sweetness, but with a dangerous edge. “What’s going on here, you two? Did you need a little private chat?”

you turned to face her, your pulse quickening. Harper’s eyes gleamed with a strange satisfaction as she looked between you and Chris. She wasn’t even pretending to hide the power she had over him. “I think Chris has been very clear about his feelings, haven’t you, babe?”

Chris’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes flickered briefly to you, almost like he was looking for approval, but he said nothing.

your heart felt like it was breaking, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you looked right at Harper, cutting through the tension. “You two are really something, aren’t you?” you said, your voice like ice. “You’ve been playing this game for months, pretending you care about me when all along you were just setting me up as some... rebound.”

Harper shrugged, unfazed. “Rebound? Maybe. But if the shoe fits…” She tossed her hair back with a smug smirk. “To be fair, I didn’t think he was going to fall for you. But he did. I guess it was fun while it lasted.”

you stared at Harper, anger and hurt crashing through you, but something deep inside clicked. you were done being the victim of this twisted little game. you turned to Chris, your eyes narrowing. “I’m done with both of you,” you said flatly.

But just as you turned to leave, something unexpected happened. Chris grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but gentle. “Wait,” he said urgently. “Y/N, please listen.”

you spun around, eyes blazing. “No. I’m done listening. I’m done with the lies, done with being a fucking second choice.” you yanked their wrist out of his grasp.

But Chris didn’t let go. He pulled you in, his hands on your shoulders, his eyes locking with yours in a way you'd never seen before. “Y/N, don’t walk away. I fucked up,” he said, his voice low but earnest. “I’ve been a coward, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you in the dark. But it was never about Harper. It was always you. You just... you have to trust me on this.”

you felt a mix of disbelief and something else—a rush of longing you had tried to suppress for so long. The anger was still there, but it was tangled up with something raw. Something real.

“Prove it,” you whispered, barely able to hear their own voice over the pounding music. “Prove that you want me. Because right now, I’m not sure you even know who the hell I am.”

Chris took a step back, eyes wide, then nodded. “I can prove it. I will. Just give me a chance.”

you stared at him for a long moment, your breath catching in your throat. you could feel Harper’s eyes burning into them from across the room, but for the first time that night, you didn’t care.

“Fine,” you said finally, their voice low. “You’ve got one chance to make this right, Chris. Don’t screw it up.”

Chris’s face broke into a genuine, relieved smile. And for the first time, it wasn’t forced. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice filled with determination.

He drags you to the yard, away from all the people, away from the music and the alcohol..

it was just the two of you.

“I was a mess, Y/N. I was so scared to face the truth that I just let things happen. I didn’t know how to break things off with Harper, and I thought… I thought I could handle everything, but I can’t. I didn’t want to lose you, but I knew I was losing myself by trying to keep you around while still being hung up on her. I messed up, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m willing to prove to you that I can be the person you deserve.”

You listened as he explained himself, still not understanding why he chose harper over you, why he did what he did if this is how he truly felt.

“I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but I need you to know that I’m here for the long haul. I don’t want to play games anymore. No more secrets. I’m not perfect, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this right. But I need you to tell me what you need. I can’t fix things unless you let me know what you need from me.”

He tucks a strand of her hair, kissing her cheek before getting up and walking away. you watch him leave, being left alone with your thoughts.. would he ever tell you why he did what he did? should you forgive him? it all came crashing into your thoughts.

A few days go past, you hadnt heard from chris until one night he messages you..

Chris:

“I know you’ve been dying to see that documentary about that photographer you love. I got us tickets for tomorrow night. no pressure. But I want to spend some time with you, the right way. If you’re up for it, I’m here.”

You smile at your phone, quickly responding "sure"

Chris continued to spoil you, not really going into detail abt harper and why he randomly switched up from you to harper back to you but he made it clear that harper was no longer an issue.

you decided to give Chris another chance, but on your terms. you're not rushing into anything—you've learnt to trust yourself first, and now, you need to trust Chris with a more open heart. Chris’s consistent actions, honesty, and vulnerability make all the difference. Slowly, you lets down your guard. you find yourself laughing again in each other’s company, planning things together, and feeling like you can be your true selves with him—no games, no secrets.

you guys take your time. There’s no immediate rush to label things, but trust and communication gradually grow back, until one day, Chris holds your hand and says, “I’m not going anywhere. I want this with you, for real. You’re it.”

you, with a soft smile, reply, “I believe you.”

a/n: this is pretty rushed bc i geniunely had zero of an idea on how to finish the series.

tags: @riggysworld @watercolorskyy @courta13

[thevegandarkelf]

A Familiar Face: Scud Frohmeyer & Familiar!Fem!Reader

AO3 link

Alternate title: Damaskinos’ Daughter

My first attempt at a Scud x Reader fic! Since I started writing for Daryl, I wanted to take a stab (or a bite hehe (sorry that was a bad joke)) at our favorite little stoner. Please be gentle or I’ll cry, and I’m sure you don’t want the responsibility of that on your shoulders, do you?

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 766

Warnings: Swearing, reader is also a familiar & is Damaskinos’ daughter. I think that’s it!

Scud Frohmeyer was normally the most laid-back of laid-back guys. Whether it was with a joint in his hand or the putting his skills to use for Blade, there were few things that got him worked up. Calm, cool, collected—a perfectly-crafted string of alliteration that accurately captured the inventor’s demeanor.

But when you waltzed into the workshop, arms folded over your chest and a delighted smirk on your face, to say he was caught by surprise would be an understatement. He nearly fell out of his chair at the sound of your voice, your soft but slightly sarcastic “hi there” as Blade introduced you sending his heart straight into his throat.

You worked together for the day, both of you feigning ignorance that you two were already well acquainted. However, when evening came & the dark knight stepped out for a bit, Scud took the opportunity to corner you for an interrogation of sorts.

You were backed against the wall, his piercing blue eyes locked on yours. His arms trapped you on both sides to ensure you wouldn’t escape.

Not that you would have tried to anyway.

As you eyed him up and down, you propped your foot against the wall, arms folded over your chest once again as you leaned back, stifling an amused chuckle. You tapped your other foot, the one with your familiar tattoo on the bottom, on the floor. For a few moments, the only sounds that echoed off the workshop walls were your breathing, your boot, and the faint dripping of water somewhere in the dark.

“The hell are you doin’ here, Y/N?” His tone was a cocktail of flustered and frantic, breaking through the quiet, but not quite echoing to where any prying ears would hear. Even though you two were alone, he still exercised caution with his volume.

“Guess daddy dearest didn’t think you could pull this off all on your own,” you mused, pretending to check over the polish on your nails before meeting his gaze again. That subtle smirk from earlier in the day broke out, bigger this time. “Sent his favorite to help with the job.”

He kept his voice low, leaning in closer, his face merely inches from yours. “You say a word to B—“

“Oh, so you have a nickname for him? It’s almost like you care,” you interjected, your statement booming in comparison to his. The laugh that followed awoke the butterflies in his stomach, sending them into a tizzy.

He’d always been enraptured by your beauty, too nervous to make a move on account of you being the elder’s daughter. Instead, he settled for close proximity, doing his best to make small talk any chance the two of you were occupying the same space.

But it wasn’t just your beauty that captured him. You were feisty, brilliant, and had quite the attitude. And he loved it.

This was different, though. He had a job to do, and as far as he was concerned, you were impeding on it, potentially even a liability, your status as the vampire lord’s daughter be damned.

Little did he know, you shared the same sentiment. On both accounts.

“What makes you think I would say anything?” The sass that laced your words hung heavy in the air as you continued. “We’re on the same side. I won’t say anything if you won’t.” You paused for a brief moment, fluttering your lashes as you dropped your gaze briefly to the floor and back at him. “Josh.”

His stomach nearly fell out of his body, and he unconsciously gripped at his abdomen. It wasn’t the use of his real name that was affecting him. Oh no, it was because you said it. But you didn’t just say it. You spoke it like it was the sweetest thing in the world, the simple name slipping off your lips like honeyed words.

The tension between you was thick enough to be cut with a knife. What type of tension that was…was up for debate.

Pushing himself off the wall, he spun around, his jacket grazing the side of your jeans. You watched as he sauntered off, taking a pack of smokes from his pocket and lighting one. He looked back over his shoulder at you for a split second, long enough to catch you wiggling your fingers in a flirtatious wave.

“This is going to be an eventual few weeks,” you said to yourself, sighing and leaning against the wall again.

There were many words you would use to describe those next few weeks, and eventful was certainly one of them.

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie @holdmytesseract @dixons-sunshine

Drop a comment or inbox/DM me to be added to/removed from the taglist 🖤

GIF was made by me, dividers are by @anitalenia

[galaxysupreme17]

The Birthday Skip

Y/n = Your Name

Agatha Harkness x daughter!reader!

Y/n blinked awake, her eyes adjusting to the soft glow of morning light spilling through her curtains. She yawned, stretching as the delicious aroma of pancakes wafted through the air, tugging her fully from her dreams. She barely had time to sit up before her bedroom door swung open, and in swept her mom, Agatha, balancing a tray with her signature theatrical flair.

“Good morning, birthday girl!” Agatha declared, her tone warm and cheerful as she placed the tray on Y/n’s lap.

Y/n’s eyes lit up at the sight: a neatly stacked tower of golden pancakes, a colorful medley of fresh fruit on the side, and a steaming mug of hot chocolate crowned with an artful swirl of whipped cream and sprinkles. A single pink candle stood atop the pancake stack, flickering gently.

“Happy 13th birthday, darling!” Agatha beamed, flicking her fingers to light the candle magically.

Y/n grinned wide. “Thanks, Mom! This looks amazing.” She leaned forward and blew out the candle in one breath, earning an approving nod from Agatha.

Y/n dug into the pancakes without wasting a second, savoring the buttery, syrupy sweetness. After a few bites, she looked up, her gaze softening as she caught her mom watching her with a tender smile. Agatha sat perched on the edge of the bed, her chin propped on one hand, looking entirely content just being there.

“You said I get one magical wish today, right?” Y/n asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Agatha arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow, her lips twitching into a playful smirk. “Indeed, my little enchantress. One wish, no strings attached. So, what’s it going to be? A trip to the stars? A private concert by a rock band from another dimension? Or perhaps you’d like to ride a dragon through the clouds?”

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “Nothing like that.” She set her fork down, her smile turning shy. “I just want to skip school and spend the whole day with you.”

Agatha’s smirk faltered momentarily, replaced by a look of surprise, then something much softer. “That’s it? No grand magical adventures? No bending reality?”

“Just you,” Y/n said, shrugging with a sheepish grin. “We don’t get to hang out like this much anymore. I miss it.”

Agatha pressed a hand to her chest, pretending to be struck by Y/n’s words. “Oh, darling, you wound me! How could I resist such a heartfelt plea?” Her theatrics earned a giggle from Y/n.

“But,” Agatha continued, her expression turning mock-serious, “what if Principal Fletcher sends me a strongly worded letter for allowing such truancy?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, laughing. “Mom, please!”

“Alright, alright,” Agatha relented, her grin widening. “How can I say no on your birthday? Consider it done.”

Before Y/n could respond, Agatha stood and snapped her fingers. The tray disappeared in a puff of violet smoke, reappearing on the bedside table, and with a flick of her wrist, the curtains closed, plunging the room back into a cozy dimness.

“Back under the covers with you!” Agatha commanded playfully, crawling into bed beside her daughter. Y/n laughed, shifting over to make room.

The two snuggled under the blankets, the world outside forgotten as they dozed off again for a little longer. When they woke, sunlight streamed through the curtains again, and the clock read 8:00.

The morning that followed was lazy and full of laughter. Y/n modeled the cute sweater and jeans combo her mom had gifted her, twirling for Agatha’s exaggerated applause. They planned the rest of their “rebellious” day, giggling like co-conspirators over pancakes and tea in the kitchen.

Once they left the house, their first stop was the spa, a quaint and cozy place tucked away on a quiet street, its air filled with the soothing scent of lavender and eucalyptus. The spa attendants greeted them warmly, ushering them to plush chairs. Agatha chose a manicure for both of them, winking as she said, “Nothing says birthday like a bit of pampering.”

Y/n picked a sparkling lilac polish that shimmered like a galaxy under the lights, while Agatha went for a deep, velvety purple that exuded sophistication. As the technicians worked on their nails, Y/n glanced at her mom. “You know,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice, “purple is so on-brand for you.”

Agatha smirked. “What can I say? A little mother-daughter glamour never hurt anyone.” She held up her hand to admire their matching shades. “Besides, these nails will look fabulous when I’m casting spells later. Maybe I’ll even add a little extra sparkle to yours.”

“Only if you don’t turn my nails into fireworks,” Y/n retorted, grinning.

By the time they left the spa, both were glowing—from their perfectly polished nails to the laughter and lighthearted teasing they had shared.

Their next stop was Y/n’s favorite coffee shop, a charming spot with mismatched chairs, shelves of books lining the walls, and a chalkboard menu featuring an array of whimsical drink names. Agatha ordered her usual—a strong black coffee—and Y/n opted for her favorite caramel latte, topped with a mountain of whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles.

They found a cozy corner table by the window, the winter sun streaming in and warming the space. As they sipped their drinks, they reminisced about Y/n’s earlier birthdays.

“Remember when I turned six, and you conjured a pony for the day?” Y/n asked, giggling. “It ate all the cupcakes before my friends even got there.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with amusement. “I seem to recall that same pony trampling my rose bushes. Never again.”

“Totally worth it,” Y/n said, grinning.

From the coffee shop, they strolled to Y/n’s happy place: the local bookstore. The familiar scent of paper and ink wrapped around her like a warm hug when they stepped inside. Agatha waved a hand toward the shelves, her smile indulgent. “Three books. Your pick. But don’t go overboard—you still have unopened presents at home, and Christmas is in under six weeks.”

“Three?” Y/n gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “That’s not nearly enough!”

Agatha placed a hand on her hip, her tone mock-stern. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday, young lady. I’m already giving you free rein to bankrupt me, you little bibliophile.”

Y/n laughed, darting off into the aisles with the energy of a child in a candy store. She moved from shelf to shelf, pulling out books and reading the blurbs, occasionally holding one up for her mom’s opinion.

Agatha followed leisurely, her fingers trailing along the spines of the books as she watched Y/n in her element. There was something magical about how her daughter’s eyes lit up when she found a story that intrigued her.

After much deliberation, Y/n returned to Agatha with her selections: a fantasy novel with a beautifully illustrated cover, a gripping mystery, and a historical fiction book she’d wanted to read for months.

Agatha raised an eyebrow at the stack. “No textbooks or magic manuals? I’m shocked.”

“Mom, it’s my birthday. Those don’t count as fun,” Y/n replied, rolling her eyes but smiling.

Agatha slipped an extra book onto the counter as they checked out, giving the cashier a conspiratorial wink. Y/n didn’t notice until they left the store when she spotted the fourth book in the bag.

“Hey!” she said, her eyes narrowing playfully. “What happened to ‘only three books’?”

“Consider it a bonus,” Agatha said breezily. “Besides, I couldn’t resist. It’s one of my favorites—I think you’ll love it.”

Y/n hugged her mom impulsively, her heart full. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

“I know,” Agatha replied with a smirk, though her tone was soft.

As they walked down the street, arm in arm, the day already felt like one of the best birthdays Y/n could remember.

As they walked down the main street, arms laden with bags and laughter spilling freely between them, Y/n’s stomach growled loudly. Agatha glanced at her with an amused smirk.

“Sounds like someone needs sustenance,” Agatha teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Shopping is hard work,” Y/n replied with mock seriousness.

“Hard work? You’ve been gleefully picking out books and clothes while I play pack mule,” Agatha countered, holding up the bags she carried.

Y/n laughed, linking her arm with her mom’s. “Fine, fine. Let’s call it even. How about Chinese for lunch?”

“Perfect. There’s that little takeout place around the corner,” Agatha said.

They ducked into the small restaurant, where the warm aroma of soy sauce, ginger, and garlic welcomed them. The cheerful woman behind the counter smiled at them, and Y/n eagerly scanned the menu on the wall.

“Egg rolls, sesame chicken, fried rice,” Y/n began, her finger darting to each item on the menu. “Oh! And crab rangoons, please.”

Agatha added a few dishes of her own choosing—shrimp lo mein and wonton soup—before they paid and waited for their food. While they stood by the counter, Y/n peeked into one of her shopping bags, pulling out a book to show her mom.

“This one’s about a witch who travels through time,” Y/n explained, her eyes bright. “I figured it might give me some ideas for my own magic.”

Agatha glanced at the cover, nodding approvingly. “Witches and time travel? That sounds like a recipe for chaos, but I’m intrigued.”

Their order was ready within minutes, the neatly packed containers steaming in a paper bag. With lunch secured, they returned home to enjoy their feast.

Back in the cozy comfort of their living room, they set the containers on the coffee table, grabbed plates and chopsticks, and made themselves comfortable on the couch. Y/n carefully distributed portions of each dish, snagging an extra crab rangoon before her mom noticed.

“Hey! I saw that,” Agatha said, narrowing her eyes playfully.

“What?” Y/n replied innocently, popping the Rangoon into her mouth.

They settled in to watch Gilmore Girls, with Y/n choosing an episode she claimed was one of the funniest. As the fast-paced banter between Lorelai and Rory filled the room, Y/n leaned back against the cushions, thoroughly enjoying her meal and the time spent with her mom.

Agatha, meanwhile, alternated between rolling her eyes at the small-town antics on screen and occasionally laughing at the sharp wit of the characters. “Does anyone in this town ever mind their own business?” she muttered.

“That’s what makes it entertaining,” Y/n said, grinning.

Once their plates were empty and the episode ended, they reluctantly got up to clear away the remnants of lunch. Agatha insisted on washing the dishes while Y/n organized her new books on the living room shelf.

As evening approached, Agatha began preparing Y/n’s favorite dinner: creamy chicken Alfredo. Y/n perched on a stool at the kitchen counter, chatting about her favorite moments from the day while her mom worked. The rich aroma of garlic and Parmesan cheese soon filled the air, and Y/n couldn’t help but sneak a piece of garlic bread fresh from the oven.

“Hey, hands off!” Agatha scolded lightly, catching her in the act.

“It’s too good to wait for,” Y/n replied, taking another bite with a mischievous grin.

Agatha just shook her head, smiling as she plated the meal. They ate together at the dining table, the warm light of the chandelier casting a soft glow over the room. Between bites, they shared more stories, laughing over Y/n’s childhood antics and their memories together.

After dinner, it was time for presents. Agatha handed Y/n the remaining gifts, watching with a mix of pride and affection as her daughter tore through the wrapping paper. With its shimmering spellbook charm, the charm bracelet was the highlight of the evening, and Y/n’s eyes lit up as she slipped it onto her wrist.

“This has been the best day,” Y/n said, hugging her mom tightly.

Agatha hugged her back, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re the best part of every day, darling. Happy birthday.”

Their laughter and conversation naturally led them back to Agatha’s bedroom as the night stretched on. The big, plush bed was always Y/n’s favorite spot to end a cozy day. They brought a stack of blankets and snacks with them, ready to continue their Gilmore Girls marathon. Agatha propped herself against the headboard, and Y/n sprawled beside her, clutching a throw pillow like a lifeline.

“Okay,” Agatha said, grabbing the remote. “Next episode—are we prepared for more Lorelai and Rory antics, or do we need an emotional breather?”

“Bring it on,” Y/n declared, grinning.

As the episode played, Agatha absentmindedly began braiding Y/n’s hair, her fingers gentle but sure. It was a habit that dated back to Y/n’s childhood—Agatha would always braid her hair during bedtime stories or whenever Y/n needed calming. Tonight, it was simply a gesture of quiet affection, the rhythmic motion soothing them both.

Y/n sighed contentedly, leaning into her mom. “Best birthday ever,” she murmured, her voice soft but full of conviction.

Agatha paused momentarily, resting her chin lightly on Y/n’s head. “It’s always the best when I get to spend it with you, my little troublemaker,” she said, her voice warm and full of love.

Y/n smiled, closing her eyes as her mom pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re so sappy,” she teased, though the happiness in her voice betrayed her.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Agatha replied, smirking. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

They continued watching, pausing only to share a few snacks or comment on the show’s most ridiculous moments. As the hours passed, the room grew quieter, and their laughter softened into a comfortable silence. The glow of the TV illuminated their faces, and the flickering light added a magical quality to the scene.

By the time midnight rolled around, Y/n was tucked snugly under the blankets, her head resting on Agatha’s shoulder. Her eyelids drooped, her earlier energy giving way to the peaceful exhaustion of a perfect day.

Agatha glanced down, noticing Y/n’s breathing had evened out. She smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her daughter’s face. “Goodnight, my little star,” she whispered.

Reaching for the remote, Agatha turned off the TV and let the quiet of the night settle around them. Wrapped in blankets, warmth, and an unspoken love that filled the room, they drifted into sleep together, cherishing every moment of their magical, ordinary day.

Tomorrow would come with its own adventures, but tonight, they had each other—which was more than enough.

[dodgerkedavra]

Go Up to Gilead [H/D Erised 2024]

The Aurors are Harry’s whole world—right up until he carries Draco Malfoy out of Azkaban in his arms.

Harry can’t keep both, so he’s got to choose: forfeit the world, or forfeit his soul?

Word Count: ~106k

Rating: Explicit

Go Up to Gilead on AO3

Malfoy doesn’t move as Harry gets closer. Only his eyes follow Harry’s crouch-shuffle. Harry wedges himself into the corner next to Malfoy and slides his hand behind Malfoy’s back. There’s almost nothing to him. The striped grey-on-grey rags hang off skin and bone with so much fabric to spare that Harry’s knuckles don’t touch the wall. Harry repeats this process with his other arm, easing his hand under Malfoy’s knees. Makes his chest hurt and his eyes burn to feel the spindly, fucked-up joints hanging over his arm, and when he’s done, their faces are only a few inches apart. Malfoy’s eyes swim with tears. The silver-grey colour stands out, bright and feverish. “Malfoy,” Harry says, his heart sore and stinging. “Draco—” “Not Dementors,” Malfoy whispers. “Please.”

Tags and author's note under the cut ->

I really was on my phone at the moment I received my Erised match, and I really did lift my eyes from my screen and stare into the distance. It's 100% true that I thought about royally fucking up the blending portion of a soup recipe.

The parts I left out of my note on the fic: I was sitting on my front porch on that day in July because that's all I could do last summer. I kept hoping I would feel better and kept not feeling better. I'm pretty sure it was sometime in August that I looked up at my husband from where I had been napping (AKA lying in bed staring at nothing) all afternoon and said this is all I have left.

It sounded dramatic, but felt like nothing.

I had thought my increasing indifference to stuff like deadlines and paying bills was a good sign. By the time I realized it wasn't, it was like pinching the last smidgen of a balloon string between my fingers. In addition to my invisible balloon, I was also clinging to my daily walk around my neighborhood, and I just sort of understood that if I let go of them, that was it.

The invisible balloon was writing. It was (Drarry) fics. But it was also the idea of gifts, and making them, and giving them. And it was, like, profoundly important to me to maintain that practice, even when it made objectively no sense.

It's always been true that lots of things aren't clear to me before I write about them, and sometimes while I'm writing about them, but it's very clear in retrospect that I spent last year desperately trying to get a message across to myself at my bleakest, lowest point. Some part of me must have known, I guess.

Anyway, it was an honor to write for @tessacrowley and to be part of H/D Erised. I love gift exchanges and especially Erised. It's a rare experience to get to hold someone's wishes in your hands and know that someone out there is holding yours. It reminds me to hold things gently. Myself, also.

Thanks to the mods for a wonderful fest, to @vukovich for letting me talk about the Bible in the middle of the night, to @itsphantasmagoria for leaving at least 100 screaming comments, and to all my friends and betas for their thoughtful feedback and support with a special shout-out to @kamaela, @its-the-allure, and @phoenixortheflame. I am very sorry if you deserve a special shout-out and I forgot you! Pretty much all my remaining brain cells went to this story. It was worth it, though.

Read Go Up to Gilead on AO3

TAGS: Auror Harry Potter, Auror Pansy Parkinson, Healer Ron Weasley, Auror Theodore Nott, Auror Justin Finch-Fletchley, Curse Breaking, Curse Breaker Seamus Finnigan, Healer Dean Thomas, Unspeakable Blaise Zabini, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy in Azkaban, Prison, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con. Past Rape/Non-con, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Caning, Hallucinations, Mental Instability, Mental Anguish, Post-Prison, St Mungo's Hospital (Harry Potter), Healing, Injury Recovery, Caretaking, Bathing/Washing, Sentient Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Dark Magic, Magical Theory (Harry Potter), Avada Kedavra | Killing Curse (Harry Potter), After Effects of Crucio | Cruciatus Curse (Harry Potter), Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter), Masturbation in Shower, Anal Sex, First Time Bottoming, Magical Cock Ring, Vomiting, Chronic Pain, Chronic Illness, Weddings, Hogwarts Castle, Hogwarts Forbidden Forest, Self-Hatred, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, POV Harry Potter, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Hand Feeding, Dreams and Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Imprisonment, Godric's Hollow (Harry Potter), Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, Kissing, Orgasm, Frottage, Gentle Sex, Children of Characters, Despair, Hope, Touch-Starved, Forehead Touching, Hair Braiding, Hair Washing, Weasley Jumpers, Expecto Patronum | Patronus Charm (Harry Potter), self-harm, revenge, vertigo, starvation

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hi!! I love this series so much, and as someone who hasn’t really drawn since they were a kid but wants to start as a hobby, do you have any advice for sort of learning to doodle on paper and get better at it? I want to start but I don’t really know how/where

The most important step in getting better at any skill is Persistence and Consistency. Practice and keep practicing! The best way to do that is to keep it fun! Picking a project helps generate ideas (e.g. drawing Pokémon, or characters from a series you like). There are also a ton of monthly prompt lists out there!

I also highly recommend scheduling in a 'drawing/practice' time in your day. For me, I started with 30-60 min before bed (bonus: its a good 'no screentime' activity), and the habit took root there.

There are a lot of 'technical' things to study but find the fun first. At a certain point you will discover you've hit a wall, and have a specific aspect/goal you want to target (colour theory, anatomy, lighting, comic layout). Then it's time to go looking for resources.

Once you have the habit and some goals, go collect some inspiration! Find people who inspire you and study their work!

Another little 'art skill builder' I recommend is the Shrimp Method! Only if you find technical challenges like this fun though (Example of one of my studies below)

[zerosocialskillz]

Y’know all of this made me think of a version of Inanimate Insanity but it’s actually a killing game like Danganronpa instead of a reality show

Like if MePhone4 watched Danganronpa and tried to host one himself and shit. Complete with pretending to be a despair-loving freak and all of that jazz