#( so i will...write some more and then sleep <3 )

[ablobwhowrites]

I have been hooked on your poppy playtime new home sweet home posts and I love them, they are great!! and I was thinking, maybe one where y/n repairs some toys in very bad condition? Like when you mentioned Miss Delight's face! Only if you want and can of course. <3

(also sorry if this is not very well written, English is not my first language and I am using Google translator)

(glad you liked them and plus it helps me kinda try and write my next fic and hopefully I'm cooking with it)

Y/n has repaired the toys and even had to learn how to stitch because most are fabric but bougie bot, miss delight, doey and mommy long legs are kinda hard to repair, so y/n has to look up how to repair the certain material needed for each toy. Miss delight is a bit more patient with being repaired as this goes for mommy and doey but boogie bot, bunzo, huggy, yarnaby are kinda impatient as they move around a lot and don’t really like sitting on one play and bubba is a kinda like smartass when y/n tries to do stitching to repair his arm and he’s like “you shouldn’t use that stitch, use this one instead” and y/n is like half way done with it when he says that but y/n just finishes it and moves on.

Plus I do imagine y/n going to their grandma to ask if she could make some blankets for the toys as they don't have a lot of spare blankets. Especially when crafty corn, hoppy hopscotch took most of the blankets to make their fort. Y/n's grandma agrees and makes huge blankets like ones that doey could basically be laying down and there would still be a lot of blanket left over kinda huge and of course the smiling critters get one and hoppy uses it for the pillow fort and yarnaby as well.

Y/n's bed does not belong to y/n anymore cause everytime they get home, yarnaby is sleeping on it and take up all the bed and even when there's some there's very little because like yarnaby is fucking huge. But the blanket is bigger than him somehow.

And sometimes the toys have nightmares about killing y/n. Like in when they were in playtime co and how violent they were to y/n and basically almost killing them in brutal ways. Like the dream goes as this, they chase y/n and when getting their hands on y/n killing but the bloodlust settles as they look at the corpse of y/n and realizing what they did try to fix it. Or think it's a prank but it continues until the you jolts awake seeing the room they are in and see y/n alive. All it was a nightmare, they are safe here. Except for Sawyer, he has dreams of being a regular human so yeah. But poor doey was scared that the nightmare was real and poor guy needed a hug after cause he feels guilty even though it was just a dream.

(Anyways that's it for me yapping. If you guys like this and want more please don't feel shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's, but for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Chapter 04;

— Your Sweet Love

Synosis: In a marriage born out of convenience and plagued by bitterness, You and Sunghoon find yourselves trapped in a cycle of cold indifference and unspoken resentment. Your quiet strength and tender care begin to reach the heart Sunghoon has so carefully guarded. Slowly, walls built from years of hurt and mistrust start to crumble, revealing a shared loneliness neither had acknowledged. With every tentative step toward connection, your hearts yearn for a closeness you’ve long denied yourself selves, leaving both to wonder if you can build something real from the ashes of your forced bond.

Navigation: Intro - 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 Pairing: fem!reader X husband!Park Sunghoon Genre: Arranged Marriage trope; Slow Burn; Angst; Fluff; Smut (kinda) Warnings: cursing, mention of pills (some are drugs); abuse; mentions of blood; sexual content; injuries; heavy themes; juicy tension ;) Music: Listen to 'nevertheless ost' and 'the trunk ost'!! Disclaimer: This story is fiction, and it does not reflect real life in any way. This story is heavily inspired by the kdrama 'The Trunk' on Netflix but with a special twist! Words: 6k - New Chapter Every Saturday!!

A/n: I procrastinated on writing this chapter so badly and I don't know why :( The story is coming to an end and I'm so sad :/ Its been great to write this for you guys, I hope you like this new chapter. Because it is kind of a calm chapter, its not as long as the last one, but I worked very hard on it anyway! Also, I want to warn you: this chapter talks about death. Thank you for all the love and support. It means everything to me <3

After standing in front of your bedroom door for what feels like an eternity, Sunghoon still can't seem to find the courage to knock. His hand hovers in the air, frozen in hesitation. His thoughts are clouded with regret, and he experiences a sense of weight as if he is being pulled down by gravity. Knowing he’s too frail to make a move tonight, he sighs and turns away, deciding to retreat to his room. He can try again tomorrow morning.

Inside his large bedroom, the scent of clean laundry greets him, and as he approaches his bed, he notices you’ve changed the sheets. The soothing fragrance makes his chest ache, your presence lingering in the room despite the distance between you. His own words replay in his head like a cruel, endless movie. Sunghoon closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying to push you out of his mind.

The air in the room is ice-cold, the forgotten open window letting in the freezing night breeze. His skin prickles as he crosses the room to shut it, hating how the icy air mirrors the chill between you two. He moves around, searching for his sleeping clothes. An old black T-shirt and loose pants that hang low on his waist.

Cursing under his breath, he slips under the covers, only to be met with cold once again. Sunghoon's body shivers as he adjusts beneath the heavy blankets, but they do nothing to bring him comfort. He exhales a deep, tired sigh, his head sinking into the pillow. More than anything, he just wants this crappy night to end.

But hours pass, and it feels like absolute hell. A cold, lonely hell that he’s trapped in. For four agonizing hours, Sunghoon tosses and turns, his body as restless as his mind. His thoughts refuse to quiet down, and every time he closes his eyes, the image of you crying resurfaces, keeping him wide awake. Frustrated, he lies flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, his heartbeat pounding fast against his rib cage.

Without thinking, he throws off the blankets and gets up. His feet carry him to the hallway before his mind can catch up. Your door seems miles away, and with each step, his legs grow weaker.

Once again, he finds himself standing in front of your room, anxiety clouding his head. What if she's asleep? He wonders. It’s four in the morning. His hand hesitates in mid-air, lingering over the door as he debates whether to knock or walk away.

What if she hates me and wants to leave me? His anxiety screams inside his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and swallows hard, his hands trembling as he slowly reaches for the wooden door. But to his surprise, it opens slightly before he can touch it, leaving him confused. From the small gap you’ve created, you stare at your husband with tired eyes.

“I didn’t even—” Sunghoon starts, but you just offer him a small smile. Shaking your head, you glance at him again before responding. His beautiful brown eyes are red, with dark circles beneath them, a clear sign that he’s been just as restless as you.

“I heard your footsteps,” you finally say, easing some uncertainty swirling in Sunghoon’s mind.

“Can I come inside? I want to talk,” he mutters, his shy gaze flickering away from your face.

“Sure,” you reply simply, not wanting to seem too eager to see him.

Sunghoon stands awkwardly in the center of your room, facing your bed. It’s the first time he’s been inside, and it looks exactly how he imagined. Decorated in warm, earthy browns and soft greens, with dim yellow lights glowing in the corners and small plants perched on the windowsill. The familiar scent of your perfume lingers in the air, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. He exhales slowly, feeling himself relax just a little.

His curious eyes never leave your silhouette as you quietly close the door and crawl back into the messy sea of blankets on your bed. He notices you’re wearing the same thing as the other day when he brought you tea. A plain, oversized deep blue T-shirt with no shorts. Sunghoon quickly shifts his gaze elsewhere before his body reacts to the sight of your exposed skin.

“Are you going to say something? Or just stand there in silence?” you tease, your eyes burning holes into him.

“I want to say I’m sorry. I never meant to say those things to you,” Sunghoon finally confesses, his voice quiet, his gaze still avoiding yours. “I was stressed and overwhelmed from work… I didn’t mean anything I said.”

As the last words leave his lips, Sunghoon’s warm brown eyes finally meet yours. The sight makes his chest ache; your eyes are still red and your face slightly swollen.

“Sunghoon, you can’t just say whatever you want and then blame it on stress. Those words… they… hurt me… more than I can even admit.” Your voice is low and unsteady, a knot forming in your throat as the words leave your mouth.

“I know, I know.” Sunghoon insists, stepping closer to your bed. “You’re absolutely right, and that’s why I couldn’t sleep until I came here to apologize. I’m sorry, Y/N. It won’t happen again.”

You hold his gaze until he finishes speaking, searching for any sign of insincerity. But the way his eyes soften reassures you that he means every word. Under his intense stare, you feel breathless, the air slipping away as his piercing eyes stay locked on yours. The tension in the room shifts in an instant, like a single spark igniting a space filled with gasoline. Frustrated, you throw yourself onto the bed, your back pressing into the mattress, legs slightly parted. You want to scold him for being so cruel, but your thoughts are a disorganized mess.

Sunghoon observes you in silence, his frustration growing. Your lack of response does nothing to ease the guilt twisting in his chest. He notices the way you cover your eyes with your arm, hiding from him. A sudden inappropriate thought crosses his mind, and a smirk tugs at his lips. Meticulously, he crawls onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs, his knee nudging them apart just enough to fit.

Your head snaps up instantly, and when you move your arm away, you’re met with Sunghoon. He is so close, you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips. Your cheeks flush under his intense stare, his dark eyes absorbing every inch of your face.

Still annoyed by your silence, he finally speaks.

“Do you forgive me, Y/N?” His voice is deeper, dripping with something that makes your stomach twist.

You want to resist, want to say something sharp, but instead, you just nod, too flustered to form a single word.

Suddenly, Sunghoon’s right hand gently pushes your right knee up, his warm fingers gliding over your calf in a slow, deliberate motion. A breath catches in your throat, your skin erupting in goosebumps at his touch. Then he leans in, his lips hovering near your ear as he whispers,

“I don’t like this silence you’re giving me. Use your words, princess. Tell me you forgive me for my stupid actions.”

You don’t know if it’s the unexpected nickname, the husky rasp of his voice, or the way his fingers continue their teasing path, trailing higher, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. Your eyes flutter shut as a soft, unintentional moan escapes your lips, your body betraying you under his touch.

And it feels exactly how you imagined it—confident yet gentle, just like Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon…” You manage, your throat dry as your eyes lock with his once again. “I forgive you…” you breathe out, still trying to steady yourself.

Sunghoon’s smirk deepens as he takes in your flustered state, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“See? Was that so hard?” he whispers against your lips, and you swear they brushed against yours for the briefest second. Just as quickly as he settled on top of you, Sunghoon shifted, falling onto the bed beside you.

You turn onto your side to face him, and the smug smile on his lips says it all. He enjoyed teasing you and relished seeing you so helpless beneath him. Your gaze wanders over his face, taking in how effortlessly handsome he looks dressed casually, his black hair slightly tousled, and a playful smirk curving his lips. Half of his face is hidden behind his dark strands, making him look even more alluring.

Your eyes wander lower, and your breath catches at the sight of his bare neck and collarbones, the loose t-shirt draping off his shoulders. His pale skin is smooth, scattered with small beauty marks that you never noticed before. Heat rises to your cheeks as your curiosity gets the best of you, and your gaze dips even lower. The way he’s lying down causes his shirt to ride up, revealing a sliver of his toned waist. Your hungry eyes trace the lines of his abs down to his v-line, which is teasingly visible beneath the low-hanging waistband of his pants.

This is the first time you’ve ever seen your husband in such casual, revealing clothes, and it’s affecting you more than you expected. But before your gaze can travel any further, Sunghoon’s hand gently cups your chin, tilting your head up, so your eyes meet his again.

“My eyes are up here,” he teases, amusement flickering across his face.

You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks burn even hotter. “Shut up,” you mutter, hating how easily he has you wrapped around his finger.

“I’m feeling so sleepy now,” Sunghoon sighs, ignoring your flustered state. Then he yawns, letting his body sink deeper into the mattress.

“Since you were good to me and apologized,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant as a tiny spark of confidence grows inside you. “You can sleep here with me tonight.”

Sunghoon lifts his head off the pillow, giving you a surprised look, as if not fully believing your words. Without another comment, you snuggle back under the covers and switch off the light on your nightstand. In the darkness, you turn your back to him, pressing your burning face into your pillow. The ghost of his earlier touch still lingers on your skin, making it impossible to calm your racing heart.

A moment later, you hear him shifting beneath the covers. Then, slowly, Sunghoon inches closer, his warmth seeping into your back as his arm snakes around your waist. He pulls you firmly against him, and you feel everything—his solid chest, the steady rise and fall of his breath, the way his legs press against yours. His head dips close to your ear, his hand sliding up, resting just below your chest.

“Thank you, princess. Good night,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your earlobe.

With a tight grip on your waist, you hear his breathing begin to slow. Your eyelids grow heavy too, and without resistance, you drift off in his arms. Outside, the full moon shines brightly in the vast, star-filled sky, casting its bluish light into your bedroom, illuminating your tangled bodies.

The night slips away quickly, and soon, the sun begins to rise, bringing warmth and light into the world. Inside your bedroom, you and your husband remain entwined, both of you breathing slow and steady.

Sunghoon scrunches his face in irritation as the bright morning rays reflect off his closed eyelids, forcing him to wake. He yawns, then carefully pulls his arm from under your head, needing to stretch his stiff body. Beside him, you sleep peacefully. Your hair is a mess, and soft snores are escaping your lips, but even like this, Sunghoon thinks you're the cutest woman alive.

Resisting the urge to reach out and brush his fingers against your serene face, he rubs his eyes and sits up, resting his back against the wooden headboard. The quiet atmosphere is comforting, and for a brief moment, he wishes it could always be like this—calm, steady, safe. He’s not sure if he can handle any more chaos.

His sleepy eyes wander around your bedroom, finally able to take it in fully in the daylight. As he scans the space, something catches his attention. A small frame on your nightstand, nestled beside the poetry book you always carry around. He leans forward to get a better view, but he is surprised that the picture inside is of a man.

He doesn’t seem much older than twenty, his blonde hair falling messily over his face as he makes a peace sign for the camera.

Sunghoon hesitates for a second before slowly leaning over your sleeping body, reaching for the frame. Just as his fingers curl around it, your body shifts, and suddenly, your face is too close to his.

“What are you doing?” you murmur sleepily, your eyes still closed.

Sunghoon grips the picture tightly before sitting back up, waiting for you to fully wake. He expects you to scold him—maybe even get mad for touching your things without permission, but instead, you simply roll onto your side, meeting his gaze with a soft, sad smile.

“Who is he?” Sunghoon asks cautiously, noticing the way your expression shifts despite the small grin on your lips.

“Nishimura Riki,” you say slowly, a lump forming in your throat. “He was my ex-husband.” The words feel heavy, and no matter how much time has passed, the pain still lingers.

Sunghoon watches you closely, sensing the weight behind your words. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, his gaze unwavering, his tone gentle, trying to offer the same patience you always show him.

“Yeah, but maybe not now.”

The moment the words leave your lips, he nods silently and hands you the frame. He observes as your eyes flicker over the image, small tears forming as you stare.

Slowly, you set the frame back in its place, taking a deep breath as if trying to compose yourself. Sunghoon remains silent, but inside, confusion stirs. You’ve never mentioned being married before, not once. You’ve never even spoken another man’s name in front of him. And yet, the way you look at the picture sends a cold shiver down his spine.

Something about the entire situation feels… discomfiting.

“What should we do today?” Your voice breaks the comfortable silence. Slowly, you shift under the covers, resting your head on Sunghoon’s thighs and looking up at him.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” he asks confidently, though his heart pounds in his chest. His hand drifts to your head, gently patting your hair.

You smile at him. “Of course I do, Sunghoon,” you reply, avoiding his gaze as a wave of shyness washes over you. The excitement bubbling inside makes you feel like a twelve-year-old girl falling in love for the first time.

“I’ll plan everything—you don’t have to worry about a thing!” he exclaims, his voice laced with excitement as he watches you fondly, his fingers threading deeper into your hair.

A peaceful silence settles between you, filled with the warmth of the blankets, the soft morning sunlight filtering through the curtains, and the soothing sensation of Sunghoon’s delicate fingers massaging your scalp. You stare at his face, admiring his cute moles and messy bed hair. Your tongue wets your lips as your gaze shifts to his plump lips, so inviting. It makes your stomach twist with the need to feel them against yours.

Sunghoon seems to sense the shift in your eyes because his fingers, that were in your hair, started to trail down to rest behind your neck. Slowly, he leans in, your sweet scent enveloping him as he lowers himself to reach your lips.

And once again, he stops just millimeters away, his warm breath ghosting over your eager lips. “We can't. Not yet,” Sunghoon whispers, turning his head at the last second. Instead, he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes at the tender touch and pout as he pulls away.

“I know it’s frustrating, but I’m waiting for the right moment,” Sunghoon explains, his fingertips gently tracing your warm cheeks.

Then, he carefully guides you to sit up on the mattress before leaving the bed, and you watch him in confusion. Just when you thought Sunghoon couldn’t get any more handsome, he proves you wrong. He stands before you with a soft blush dusting his cheeks, neck, and ears.

“Wear something nice—we’re leaving in two hours,” he tells you with a bright smile, standing in the doorway with his hand on the doorknob.

You nod, biting your lip as your heart skips a beat under his gaze. His sharp fangs peek out as he grins at you one last time before disappearing through the door.

The atmosphere in your room will never be the same. His presence now engraved in your sheets.

“Can we go somewhere else before doing what you planned?” you interrupt the silence as the car comes to a stop at a red light. Turning to face Sunghoon, you watch as he furrows his brows before responding.

“Sure. Where do you need to go?” he asks, his eyes carefully flicking to the right mirror outside the car.

“The cemetery.”

This time, the silence that settles between you isn't comfortable or light. It’s suffocating. It eats away at your ability to breathe, making your chest ache. Sunghoon doesn’t ask any questions, and you’re grateful. You need all the courage you can muster to finally tell him about your ex-husband. Your unhappy gaze remains fixed on the window, the sight of the familiar place making you take a deep breath.

The sun blazes against your back as you and Sunghoon walk through the cemetery, the atmosphere heavy and uneasy. He follows a step behind, letting you lead the way. When your high heels click against the cement path, he realizes you’ve reached your destination.

You stop in front of a wall lined with unfamiliar names. Slowly, your delicate hands leave your pockets, reaching for a particular spot. Your fingertips softly graze over a familiar face, and as your teary eyes meet his, Sunghoon finally understands what was going on.

“He was such a sweet boy,” you begin, a melancholic smile forming on your lips as small tears start to fall. Sunghoon immediately steps forward, standing by your side. His hand finds yours, and he interlocks your fingers, silently giving you the strength to continue.

“Ni-ki and I grew up together; he was always there for me.” You pause, turning back to Ni-ki’s picture on his grave.

“What happened?” Sunghoon asks carefully, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

“We were planning our wedding when we found out he had late-stage brain cancer,” you say, your voice trembling. “I was devastated. I cried every single day. But… he stayed positive, always smiling, even when his hair started falling out from chemotherapy. We knew he had only a few months left, so I put on my wedding dress and married him in the hospital. I wanted to be his wife before he…” Your voice cracks as fresh tears spill down your cheeks.

Sunghoon holds your shaking hands with unwavering care, his warmth grounding you.

“He died two days after we got married,” you whisper. “I was holding his hand. The last thing he said to me was, ‘I will always love you.’” Your breath hitches. “He was only twenty, and I was twenty-two. We were young, I know, but I couldn’t let him go without marrying him—”

A loud sob cuts off your words, your body trembling as grief crashes over you once again.

“It’s okay…” Sunghoon murmurs, pulling you into his embrace. His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry, princess,” he whispers, his voice tight with emotion. You don’t notice the warm tears slipping down his own face, his heart aching at the sight of you in pain.

“Ni-ki was my everything. He was my only reason to live,” you admit brokenly. “My mom hated me; my dad was gone… I only had him. After he passed, I fell into a deep depression. I barely ate for months, and no one cared. Then, one day, I received a bill. A heavy debt that Ni-ki’s relatives refused to pay. He grew up in foster care, so no one cared about him. No one but me. Instead of telling me, he tried to cover the medical costs himself with what little he made from teaching dance classes. But it wasn’t enough. That’s why I agreed to marry you,” you finally confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “Your father said he’d pay off the debt if I accepted.”

Sunghoon tightens his hold on your hands, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t love again.” Your voice trembles as you press your fingers together, nervous. “But then… you showed up.” You lower your gaze to your hands, too scared to look at him. “At first, I hated you. Then I started to accept you. Then I understood you. And now…Now I’m afraid of what I feel for you.”

Sunghoon gently tilts your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his. His gaze is so warm, so deep, that for a moment, the whole world disappears, leaving just the two of you.

“I’m not afraid of what I feel for you,” he whispers. His thumb caresses your tear-streaked cheeks with infinite tenderness. “I never knew you were all I needed… but now that I have you, I won’t let you go.”

A smile grows on both of your faces as he speaks, love dripping from his words. You rest your head against his chest as you hug him, craving the comfort of his embrace and his familiar scent. Sunghoon hugs you back, pressing a kiss to your hair before resting his chin on top of your head.

You remain entangled in each other for a few moments, your gaze fixed on your ex-lover’s grave. You wish Ni-ki could understand how much you loved him and Sunghoon. The two men are so different, yet so alike. You hope he isn’t upset that you’ve made space in your heart for someone else, despite him never truly leaving.

The sun remains high in the sky, its warmth easing the ache in your chest. When you look up at Sunghoon, you find that he’s already watching you, making you smile.

“We can go now,” you assure him, taking a deep breath.

Sunghoon intertwines his fingers with yours as you walk back to his car. “Thank you for telling me this. I know it wasn’t easy.” His voice is laced with genuine affection, his smile soft.

“I felt like it was time.”

“Was Ni-ki as patient as you?” Sunghoon asks, encouraging you to talk about your ex-lover so that remembering him won’t hurt as much.

“He was way more patient than me.” You smile. “I learned patience from him. Mostly because he loved to get on my nerves. At first, I hated how childish he could be because I was never allowed to be. But he showed me kindness, love…” Your voice trails off as memories of his playful nature resurface. His loud laughter echoed through the small apartment you once shared, his grin mischievous as he ran from you, clutching your favorite chocolate half-eaten in his hands.

Sunghoon catches your smile in the rearview mirror as he drives to your date’s destination. The conversation remains on the same topic throughout the ride, with him asking questions about Ni-ki and enjoying the way you recount your memories—your voice filled with both excitement and tenderness.

Sunghoon could have never imagined you had gone through all of this. You always seem so calm and collected, as if you always know exactly what to do and say.

“Woah, what is this place?” you ask sarcastically, laughing as you spot the bold red letters of the sign above the building. “The movie theater?”

“It’s cliché, I know,” Sunghoon admits while carefully parking his car, his gaze flicking back to the rearview mirror. “But it’s perfect for a date. Plus, I haven’t been here in so long, and there’s this horror movie I really wanted to watch with you!” He explains as he turns off the engine, finally looking at you.

You adjust your black dress and nod, charmed by his adorable way of thinking. “Shall we?”

Sunghoon quickly gets out of the car and rushes to your side, opening the door for you. A giggle escapes your lips at the gentlemanly gesture, your heart skipping a beat. After closing the car door, he walks beside you, an arm wrapped around your waist and a smile engraved on his lips.

The theater is bustling with people and loud chatter. The queue seems endless, but after a few minutes, you finally get your tickets.

The movie room is packed, with not a single empty seat in sight. You steal a quick glance at Sunghoon, only to realize he’s already looking at you. He hands you the popcorn, and as you grab a handful, a few pieces spill onto the floor. He gives you a stern look, and you suppress a smile.

The movie turns out to be scarier than you expected. With every bloody scene on the screen, you squeeze your eyes shut and instinctively lean closer to Sunghoon. He notices your discomfort in the dimly lit space and reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. You hold onto him tightly whenever something terrifying happens, making him smile at your cute reactions.

“That was… something else,” you murmur as you toss the empty popcorn container into the trash while walking out of the theater.

Sunghoon chuckles. “I thought you liked horror movies.”

“I like horror, not gore. And that was all gore!” you pout, earning a laugh from him.

Suddenly, he stops mid-step and turns to face you. His hands reach for your cheeks, gently pulling at them, making you squirm under his touch. “You’re so cute,” he teases, his eyes locked onto yours.

You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress a smile. “Obviously,” you reply, pulling his hands away from your slightly sore cheeks.

“Are you hungry?” Sunghoon asks as you resume walking.

“I’m always hungry,” you respond teasingly, shaking your head dramatically.

He laughs again. “Let’s get dinner then.”

He opens the car door for you, giving you space to slide inside. Once you’re seated, you glance up at him with a nod, and he circles the car before driving to the restaurant.

Your mouth falls open in awe as you step inside. The restaurant is decorated in black and red, with tall windows and dim lighting that gives the place an intimate, sensual atmosphere. Sunghoon smiles at your reaction, admiring the way you take in the space.

He stands beside you, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you to a table tucked away from the main dining area, the spot he always chooses, right by the window.

As Sunghoon pulls out the chair for you to sit in, he finally takes a moment to admire you. To his surprise, your dark, smoky eye-look remains perfectly intact despite the earlier tears, and your lips are still stained red from the new lip tint you bought. The black silk dress you wear drapes elegantly over your figure, hugging you in all the right places. A delicate pearl necklace rests against your collarbone, making your skin look even more alluring than usual.

The menu is already on the table, so you take the initiative and browse through it, still unsure of what to eat. Your gaze drifts to the prices, and your eyes widen in shook. If you had never married him, dining here wouldn’t even be an option.

“Shall we order steak?” Sunghoon asks, breaking the silence. You quickly glance at him, your eyes shining with excitement.

“Yes!” you respond with a smile. “And to drink… rosé wine?” You pout slightly, knowing your husband prefers red.

“Of course, princess. Whatever you want—today is all about you.” He flirts, flashing you a seductive smirk, his dimples on full display.

A sweet waitress takes your order, but your attention remains fixed on your husband. Sunghoon looks exceptionally handsome tonight, with his black hair neatly styled back, and a pair of thin glasses resting on his nose. He wears a simple white button-up shirt paired with a black blazer, but the confidence in his demeanor makes even the simplest outfit look effortlessly refined.

“You’re staring…” Sunghoon murmurs, trying to suppress a smile. His ears grow warm under your passionate gaze. Those beautiful doe eyes of yours will be his downfall.

“Sorry, you just look so handsome tonight, husband.” You compliment him with a grin.

“Thank you, wife. You look absolutely stunning, too,” Sunghoon flirts back, another smirk threatening to break across his lips.

The dinner passes slowly, filled with lingering glances and playful jokes. You feel calm and safe as Sunghoon shares funny stories about his old friends, his charming smile captivating you more and more. He remains attentive throughout the evening, always checking to ensure your glass is never empty and helping you cut your steak when the pieces prove difficult. His caring nature is one of your favorite things about him—because you’ve spent your whole life being the one to take care of others, when he takes care of you, it touches an area deeper in your heart.

Now, you walk side by side along the vast road by the Han River, enjoying the occasional cool breeze brushing against your skin. The moon has begun to rise, its glow casting a silver shimmer over the moving water. You pause to admire it, drawn to the soothing sound of the waves.

“The moon looks so beautiful tonight,” you remark, stealing a quick glance at Sunghoon. He stands behind you, his eyes glued to your figure. The gentle wind causes your dress to ripple, accentuating your curves.

“It’s beautiful,” he agrees, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist. “But not as beautiful as you.”

“You’ve been so flirty.” You tilt your head slightly to look at him.

“You don’t like it?” He raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“I do… It’s just…” You pause, locking eyes with him. “I have to get used to it, that’s all.” A soft smile curves your lips as you turn fully to face your husband.

Sunghoon realizes this moment is perfect. You’re smiling, your cheeks slightly flushed from the wine, looking like an absolute goddess under the moonlight. He slowly slides an arm around your waist again, pulling you closer, his heartbeat hammering in his chest as he leans in.

Your hands grow slightly clammy as you grasp his wrist, your lips parting in anticipation—hoping, waiting for him to claim you as his. And then he finally does.

The moment his warm lips meet yours, the air leaves your lungs. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and a smile blossoms on your lips. Sunghoon feels it against his own as he kisses you, and it makes his head spin.

Uncertain if he should go further, he starts to pull away, but your hands fly up to his face, pulling him back toward you, craving more. He gets the message, and he’s more than happy to oblige. His lips move against yours with slow, deliberate care, savoring your taste.

Your tongue brushes against his bottom lip, silently asking for entrance, and he grants it—just this once. You take the lead, eagerly deepening the kiss, your tongue tangling with his in a slow, intoxicating rhythm.

When Sunghoon finally runs out of air, he pulls away, breathless but utterly satisfied. You rest your forehead against his, relishing the feeling of his breath fanning over your damp lips.

If you had any doubts before, now they’ve completely disappeared.

You love him.

Jiwon stares blankly at the white wall of her bedroom. The lights are dim, the room is warm, and she sits on the edge of the bed while a handsome man sits beside her. His fingers trace invisible shapes on her exposed waist as his lips occupy themselves with her neck, biting and sucking the soft skin.

It’s like she can see them right in front of her when she closes her eyes, the memories making her skin crawl. She had thought Sunghoon was distant because the company was taking up all his time, but she was wrong. And that is what pisses her off the most.

The man beside her presses down on her shoulders, causing her to lie flat on the mattress—but she isn’t there. She’s long gone, lost in the sight of you. She wanted to laugh when she caught you and Sunghoon at the restaurant she used to love. How dare he bring you to her favorite place?

At first, Jiwon thought she was imagining things, but Sunghoon’s face was impossible to mistake. She watched you both the entire time—how you laughed at his jokes, how his eyes lingered on your face, how at ease he seemed with you. She envies it badly. But deep down, she knows it was her fault for crushing his confidence.

As she closes her eyes to relive the moment, the man is now on top of her, unbuttoning her corset and completely unaware of how distant she is. Not that she minds. She chose him to make her forget about this stupid night. After watching you two have dinner, Jiwon followed you to the Han River. She needed to see just how close you two really were.

She had expected some light skinship, but when she saw Sunghoon lean in and kiss you, she lost control. Hot, salty tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned away, heading back to her car. She wasn’t sad, she was furious. How could Sunghoon move on so quickly? How could he kiss you like that for everyone to see?

Jiwon was shaking by the time she reached her car, and once inside, she screamed until her throat burned. Her hands trembled as she pounded against the steering wheel, feeling betrayed, humiliated, and replaced.

Now, back in the present, she lets out a soft moan as the stranger’s fingers trail up the inside of her bare thighs.

A perfect plan begins to take shape in her mind as his hand ventures higher, grazing over her underwear. The plan will be flawless. She just has to enjoy her night first.

As the man slowly and teasingly pulls her panties down, she allows herself to relax—while a malicious scheme lingers at the edge of her thoughts.

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[darkluminosity]

Crazy about Diluc and Eula rn so I wanted to do this... link behind the cut since it's a lot 🙃

1. Tough to say, they both do in my hc but I feel like she's more likely to initiate the hugs and he initiates the kisses 😉

2. I think they both do tbh lol. Maybe she does a bit more (at least in my current wip)

3. Eula would borrow Diluc's, I think he's more organized

4. I feel like she would for the reasons above, maybe if she was drinking and misplaced them?

5. Hm this is actually a bit tough because although he's rich and owns a winery, it was inherited so idk if he was taught money management, especially because he has others run it for him. But I feel both of them are fairly responsible.

6. Well, Diluc's parents... yeah they're not around anymore and idk about Eula's. I feel if anything she would take either extreme, either hiding it because she doesn't want to ruin his reputation by others knowing he's dating a Lawrence, or she would utilize their relationship to get back at her clan (and in part of my hcs, get rid of her association with her clan and break apart from them). But the latter would be after they talk it through and he assures her he doesn't care about it. I don't think he would want to hide it. If anything it would take him off of the bachelor market which I think he'd be happy about lol.

7. I actually think he'd be better in the kitchen overall (especially taking lessons from Adelinde if he is willing to learn) BUT as it stands his signature dish is literally a version of Pile 'Em Up which is throwing ingredients on top of each other? Compared to her signature dish, an upgraded version of Moon Pie, I think her signature dish beats his in terms of complexity. But for everyday cooking, probably him.

8. She gets more sleep but he needs more sleep lol 😂

9. They're both serious about their duties and work, but I feel he's a little more hardworking. Not that she isn't, but I think she knows her boundaries and limits more- he's constantly pushing his limits (and working as the Dark Night Hero doesn't exactly have a strict schedule if you know what I mean)

10. She has more empathy... I think 🤔 idk sometimes he can surprise others, it's just others find him hard to read. But I think he has the capacity for empathy too, he just doesn't communicate it openly very much.

11. A cat (hmm this gives me ideas) or she becomes attached to his falcon, they can write letters to each other and send them back and forth (aww 🥰)

12. Eula

13. His is acts of service and quality time, and hers is physical touch and quality time

14. I don't think they would keep secrets from each other intentionally, but there are certain things in Diluc's past that he probably wouldn't want to mention to her, and stuff he knows about Kaeya. Maybe if she asked him (about his past) but I don't think he would readily share it.

15. Neither, but I think as I alluded to in #6, Eula might not feel she deserves him so she might push him away and tell him he deserves better. At least in versions of hc where she has a lower self image and some insecurities. Who knows, he could even say the same to her because of his past if she ever found out 🤷🏻‍♀️

16. Diluc (lol my husband thinks Eula would be a terrible mom 🤐 he said it and he's the Eula main lol)

17. Eula (lol I did a short fic idea of this after chapter 18 of Fighting Winter but never posted it, where they talked after waking up and he's like why were you moaning in your sleep and making noises... and she's like uhh,I was? but she was thinking omg I want to run away in shame lol and instead tries to change the subject 🤣)

OTP questions:

Who initiates hugs?

Who wants to hold the hug longer?

Who borrows the other one’s phone charger?

Who loses their keys/wallet?

Who’s better with money?

Who tried to hide the relationship from their parents?

Who’s better in the kitchen?

Who needs/gets more sleep?

Who’s more laid back and who’s more hard working?

Who has more empathy?

If they were to adopt a pet together, what kind of pet would it be?

Who is more outgoing?

What is their love language?

Are they holding any secrets from each other?

Which one is more likely to cheat?

Which one first brings up the idea of having kids?

Who sleeptalks?

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

A Curse [Chapter 3: Flower District]

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent…at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon’s right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, mentions of sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap relationship, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, medical stuff, a creepy dude, a special surprise is found in Aegon's office!!!

Word count: 6.2k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

You sleep in late and wake to the sound of excited voices out in the kitchen. When you follow them, you find Baela using a pink Click ‘n Flame utility lighter to ignite the candles on a sloppily but lovingly homemade cake, Pillsbury Funfetti according to the blue box left upturned on the countertop, lumpy white icing dotted with multicolored sprinkles. Jace must be responsible. You panic, thinking that you have forgotten a birthday, but no: you quickly recall that Baela is a Sagittarius and Jace is—somewhat improbably—a Capricorn.

“What are we celebrating?” you ask.

Baela looks up from the cake, the candlelight luminescence radiant on her face. She is beaming, she is glowing, she is definitely meant to be an actress. She shines too brightly to belong anywhere but among the stars. “I got the part.”

“Which part?”

“The one in the new Yorgos Lanthimos movie!”

“No way!” you shout, and you rush over to hug her; but already there is a sinking feeling that you are dimly aware of through the rush, and when the revelry is over you will lie in bed alone with these thoughts, treasonous yet true: When will it be my turn? Why can’t this happen to me? “That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you!”

“It’s about the French Revolution,” Baela says when you pull away, still grinning hugely. “I’m getting third billing, my name will be on the promo posters! I’m flying to Paris for filming next month!”

“Wow.” Your smile is frozen on your face. “Wow, wow, wow, I can’t believe it. This is so awesome!”

Then Baela realizes how it must feel for you, and she is sympathetic, rubbing your shoulder as her expression twists into something soft and bashful. “But hey, your luck is turning around too!”

“Yeah,” Jace says. “You got to be in Episode 5,000 of Grey’s Anatomy.” Baela gives him a reproachful glare. “What?” he asks, clueless.

“No, it’s totally cool,” you insist. “I’m really, really thrilled for you, Baela. You have to take a million pictures in Paris so I can see all the architecture and desserts and hot French dudes!”

Jace snorts. “Are French dudes even hot?” He sounds skeptical.

“You can be my date to the premiere,” Baela tells you. Jace gapes at her, incredulous. “We can pose together on the red carpet and you can do some networking! Maybe Yorgos will even like you and cast you in his next project!”

But something about the way she says it makes the prospect sound ludicrous, fantastical, fictional. Baela’s breakthrough is reality, yours is unicorns and mermaids and the Loch Ness Monster. “You are so wonderful, but you should take Jace.”

“Yeah, you should take Jace,” Jace says.

Baela pulls a knife out of the bamboo block on the kitchen counter. Her parents bought it, like they bought almost everything else in the apartment; they believe in her, lots of people do. “Do you want some cake? When’s your appointment?” The appointment you didn’t cancel, contrary to Aegon’s explicit instructions. Technically, you never agreed to, so you haven’t lied to him. That makes you feel better. Baela glances at the calendar and reads the time written there in red ink. “Oh good, not until noon. You definitely have time for cake!”

“Babe, you gotta blow out your candles first,” Jace says. Baela closes her eyes, becomes still and serene, extinguishes the tiny golden flickers of light with one delicate puff. Then she begins cutting the Funfetti cake. You get three forks from the silverware drawer. Jace hands you a plate from the cabinet as he complains about having to go to class today: Music Aesthetics, Analysis, and Philosophy.

“Just a little one, please,” you tell Baela. A moment later, she plops a skinny slice of cake onto your plate. “Thanks, Becca! Wait, no, I mean Baela. Sorry.”

She laughs, still wielding a knife covered in white frosting. “Who’s Becca?”

“Aegon’s fiancée.”

“Oh, your agent’s future wife? The agent that you are definitely not into at all?”

“Yeah, that one, you got it.” You give her a wink and take a bite of cake: frosting so sweet it hurts your teeth, tiny kaleidoscopic flecks of candy like gold in a stream.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So, which one are you liking the feel of?” Dr. Cunningham asks, smiling in a way that is effervescent and yet impersonal, vaguely impatient, a real estate agent type of charisma. He must be in his mid-fifties, and yet his face is nearly entirely purged of wrinkles, smooth and shiny and evenly tanned. His teeth are too perfect to not be veneers. People keep suggesting those to you too; you need more time to wrap your mind around the idea of having your canines and incisors shaved down to helpless nubs.

“Um…” You go down the line again, squeezing all three samples that are arranged on the stainless steel utility table that Dr. Cunningham wheeled over to you. “I walked in wanting the gummy bear implants, and I think I feel the same way now.”

“Excellent!” he says, wearing that same smile. His eyes, very blue, never change; they are alert yet vacuous, like the fatal error screen on a Windows computer.

“And they’re safer, aren’t they? The gummy bear ones?”

“Statistically, yes,” Dr. Cunningham agrees, somewhat briskly, as if he is eager to change the subject. “But I wouldn’t worry about that. I hardly ever see ruptures in any of my patients.”

Hardly ever, not never. “That’s good!” you say spiritedly, like a star pupil.

“As I mentioned earlier, they are a bit more expensive than the other options, but we have several financing options available.”

“My parents are paying, so no worries there.”

“Fantastic.” He’s still smiling. You kind of wish he would stop. “You want to be an actress, I assume?”

“I do, yeah! How’d you know?”

He chuckles as he rolls the small metal table away. “That’s what all the girls are doing out here, right? And if it’s not acting, it’s singing, or modelling, or…what do you call that, when you make money on TikTok or wherever?”

“Being an influencer.”

“Right,” Dr. Cunningham says. “Well, I wish you the very best of luck.” It’s chivalrous but hollow, an echo of the encouragement he’s given to thousands of women just like you, except probably more beautiful and more talented and actually getting some of the parts they audition for.

I got a part, you think, and your mood lifts a bit. Aegon finally found me one. And he believes I’ll get more.

“Is it okay if I take a look?” the ever-smiling Dr. Cunningham says, and your heart begins to pound beneath the gown you’re wearing, scratchy white polyester-blend fabric that opens in the front. But this is all standard procedure, and you knew to expect an exam, and you should not feel like you’re lining up for the firing squad.

“Of course!” you exclaim too enthusiastically; your voice cracks. You undo the tie down by your waist and the fabric across your chest and belly goes slack. Your tan TOMS wedges are scattered on the linoleum floor that’s supposed to look like wood. The sundress you wore to the appointment, patterned with large sunlit palm leaves, is folded on a chair. Your eyeshadow matches: matte green Thorns by Anastasia Beverly Hills, sparkly gold Whisper by Natasha Denona.

As Dr. Cunningham opens your gown and begins the exam, you stare at a framed print of Venice Beach on the wall, and you pretend you are there under the hot glaring daylight instead of here in a frigidly air-conditioned office being prodded and manipulated, measured not to be admired or understood but only to be improved upon.

Dr. Cunningham is saying: “Just so you’re aware, due to how firm a gummy bear implant is, we typically have to make a slightly larger incision in order to insert it. Saline and traditional silicone implants, being more flexible, can be squeezed in through a smaller opening, for example using a transaxillary incision in the underarm. But they’re also more prone to wrinkling and rippling, and they must be replaced more frequently, so that pliability comes at a cost. I think gummy bear implants are a very good choice for you.”

“And…where exactly would the incision be?” Your heartbeat is still thunderous; you can hear the scorching red blood flow throbbing in your ears. Dr. Cunningham either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mention it.

“We’d go in right here,” he says, skimming his gloved fingers just beneath your left breast, your raw heart just two inches away. Goosebumps prickle on your arms. “It’s what we call an inframammary incision, and it gives us more room to work with to ensure the implant is placed properly, and…”

He loses his train of thought, interrupted by a commotion out in the lobby. Through the closed exam room door, you can hear people arguing and then something being spilled—the jar of pens on the receptionist’s desk? the glass bowl of mints?—and heavy sprinting footsteps. Dr. Cunningham pulls his hands away and you snatch your gown shut just as the door bursts open, and Aegon stands there breathing heavily from the exertion, hair in disarray, white Nike Killshots with a red slash of a Swoosh, dark jeans, salmon-colored t-shirt that’s too big for him, tan sport coat jacket yanked off of his shoulders. His attacker, the elderly receptionist, has chased him to the doorway.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she’s shrieking. She smacks him with a massive leather purse. “You can’t just go barging in on patients! What are you, some kind of druggie? We don’t keep any opioids in this office!”

Dr. Cunningham yells: “Will you call the police, Barbara?!”

“No wait, I know him,” you say, and both Dr. Cunningham and the receptionist stare hostilely at you. You ignore them and look at Aegon instead, stunned. “Hi.”

He straightens his jacket. His eyes, that dark and turbulent blue, are fixed on your face as you hastily retie your gown so it stays shut. “Hi. What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s just a consultation.”

“For a surgery you’re not going to have?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “How did you know I was here?”

“I just had this feeling you weren’t going to cancel,” Aegon says. “So I went to your apartment and you weren’t home, but your roommate told me where you were and gave me the address that you wrote on the calendar.”

“Oh.”

“She’s very nice. Your roommate, I mean.”

“Yeah, Baela’s cool.”

“She offered me a piece of Funfetti cake.”

“Did you take it?”

“No. I was in a hurry to get here.”

“Right.” You remain seated on the edge of the exam table with your hands clasped together in your lap. The receptionist and Dr. Cunningham’s bewildered gazes fly between you and the intruder.

Aegon sighs and nods towards the hallway that leads out to the lobby and the front door of the office. “Come on,” he says gently. “Get dressed. Let’s go.”

“I can’t,” you reply.

“Why not?”

You don’t answer; your eyes dart to the print of Venice Beach on the wall and stay there as they begin to water. Aegon crosses the room—the receptionist and Dr. Cunningham shuffle around the cramped space to keep away from him—and stops when he is standing right in front of you, his hands in the pockets of his rumpled tan jacket.

“Why not?” Aegon asks again, very softly now.

You look at him. Your voice is a quivering whisper. “I don’t want to have to give this up.” The city, the potential, the dream.

“Hey,” Aegon murmurs, leaning in close. You can smell the ocean and sunlight and Juicy Fruit gum. Strands of blonde hair, ripped from the sheen of gel, shag over his forehead. “You’re bright as hell just the way you are. You don’t need surgery to be an actress. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

And immediately, you are ready to leave. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You wriggle down off of the exam table, check your gown to make sure you’re still covered, and turn to Dr. Cunningham. “I guess I’m not interested anymore.”

“Please never set foot in my office again,” he says.

“No problem,” Aegon snaps. And then to you: “I’ll meet you outside. We’ll get lunch.”

“Sure,” you reply, still a little dazed.

Aegon hurries out of the exam room before the police are summoned. Dr. Cunningham and the receptionist leave too, muttering to each other and casting you appalled glares. When you are alone, you throw off the gown and put on your bra, wedges, and sundress…and as you are smoothing the creases from the soft cotton patterned with palm leaves, you smile to yourself, kind pink heat swirling in your cheeks.

Aegon is in the parking lot and leaning against his white Chrysler Sebring convertible. He has put on his black aviator sunglasses to blot out the intense afternoon sun. Dr. Cunningham’s office is on a busy street in Beverly Hills; you can hear car horns, pedestrians shouting into their cellphones, toy dogs yapping, Shape Of You chiming from a passing Mercedes. Across the street is a series of shops in a row, Starbucks and Neiman Marcus and Gucci. Aegon says, pointing to your 2003 Honda Accord: “I’ll drive you back to get your car later.”

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“Chinatown,” he says, opening the passenger’s door of his Sebring. “And from now on, you listen when I tell you to do something, just like you said you would.”

“I’ll be your best client ever,” you promise, climbing into the car. The top is down, the wind blowing in from the Pacific Ocean to the west.

“I’m here for a reason. It’s not to be ignored. I can be your advocate, but you have to be honest with me.”

“I completely understand. I won’t mislead you again.”

“The Grey’s Anatomy people really liked you, by the way.”

The hope unfurls across your face like dawn over the earth. “Really?”

Aegon gives you a teasing, crooked grin. “Don’t pretend you’re shocked.” He shuts the car door, jogs over to the driver’s side, drives east through thick midday traffic.

At the same restaurant you went to the day you met, seated beside the same large fish tank, you and Aegon place the same orders: moo goo gai pan, boneless spare ribs. The waitress, Lanying, asks Aegon about how his siblings are doing before she speeds off to tend to her other customers.

Aegon watches the malevolent ember-colored oscars for a while, then taps his paper Chinese zodiac calendar, rimmed in red and gold. “Which one are you?”

You laugh, thinking he’s joking. “You already know.”

But Aegon doesn’t smile; he only stares at you blankly. “What?”

“I told you about my zodiac sign. The first time we had lunch here.”

And he looks at you as if his skull is as clear as the transluscent blue-tinged water of the fish tank, all the lights on but nobody home, and for a split second you almost feel as if you don’t recognize him, as if he is a stranger wearing Aegon’s windswept blonde hair and ill-fitting clothes and the crow’s feet around his eyes. Then Aegon repossesses himself and he is flippant, casual. “Oh yeah, right. Totally. I remember now.”

But you have the sense that he doesn’t. You try to hide how much this wounds you. It must not have been memorable. It must not have meant anything to him. “I’m a dragon!” you say brightly, and hold up your hands as if they are claws, opening and closing your hooked fingers.

Now he does smile, a little preoccupied, a little forced. “Of course you are.”

You scan the calendar. “What year was Becca born?”

“Uh…1994, I think.”

“She’s a dog,” you say. You read the description silently to yourself as the tea and wonton soups are brought to the table: Loyal and honest, you work well with others. Generous yet stubborn and often selfish. Look to the horse or tiger. Watch out for dragons.

~~~~~~~~~~

You arrive at Aegon’s office twenty minutes early, mostly because you miss him. It’s Wednesday, June 25th, and you park your Honda on the narrow sloping street and step out into 80-degree sunlight, ambient dog barking, powerlines crossing overhead. A lady walking her chihuahua waves at you and adjusts her sunglasses. Window air conditioning units whir. The trees, ginkgos and pink trumpets and Victorian boxes and palms, are still in the bright breezeless afternoon. The skyline of Downtown is a mirage on the horizon. From the barber shop across the street, you can hear a radio playing Bailamos by Enrique Iglesias.

When you clop into the lobby in your TOMS wedges, you see that Aegon’s door is closed. At his desk, Brandon is on the landline phone and jotting notes down in his planner, his flower pen scribbling rapidly across pink paper. When he spots you, he covers the phone speaker with his hand. “Hey girl!”

“Sorry, I know I’m early. Is he busy with another client?”

“No, go on in!” Brandon reaches down to dig around in the minifridge and sets a Perrier on the ledge of his desk. You take it, thank him, and go to Aegon’s door. You are puzzled to hear people talking on the other side, muffled indistinct voices. You wear an ocean blue sundress and cool metallic shades on your eyelids: Shellshock by Urban Decay, Strike by Natasha Denona. You open the door.

Aegon has his Nike Killshots up on his untidy desk and is playing the Nintendo 64. Mario is running through what appears to be some sort of underground maze, foggy and strewn with gold coins. The greenish haze must be toxic. Mario’s Power Meter is slowly ticking down; each time Mario snags a coin, it is partially restored. Aegon is watching the screen as he talks to a woman whose back is turned to you: tall, willowy, long dark hair. They don’t realize you’re here.

Aegon is saying as he clicks the transluscent orange Nintendo 64 controller: “That’s great, babe.”

“And the charity thing is on July 19th. I got a custom suit from Tom Ford, it’s powder blue, all you have to do is show up to the fitting.”

He sighs euphorically. “You’re the best.”

She giggles. “I know.”

Then Aegon notices you, and for a moment he seems shaken—not in a good way—and for some reason you feel like you’ve made some horrible mistake. The woman spins around to see what he’s looking at. She is stunning and ethereal and wearing a plain sack dress that hangs perfectly on her, a young Cher, and she smiles at you, kind and dazzling.

“Hi!” you say. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m a little early, I mixed up my appointment time because I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re fine,” Aegon replies, but he’s still distracted. Mario suffocates in the maze and drops over dead. Aegon turns off the game. He clears his throat. “Uh, this is Becca.”

You shake her hand when she offers it. Gold bangle bracelets jangle on her wrist. “It’s so nice to meet you, Becca!”

“And you must be the new client!” she says warmly. “The one from…where was it, Michigan?”

“Minnesota,” you reply.

“Oh, brr!” Becca says, pretending to shiver, and you laugh.

“Yeah, I’m really happy to be here. And you’re getting married soon, I hear!”

Becca beams, clapping her hands together. “Yes! I’m so excited but so stressed. The planning is endless.”

“Are you going to do it here in the city somewhere?”

“Aegon didn’t tell you?” Becca is perhaps a tad disappointed. “It’s a destination wedding.”

Aegon says from his desk, somewhat recovered: “Turk…something.”

“Turkey?” you say doubtfully. An interesting choice.

“Turks and Caicos,” Becca clarifies.

“No way! My sister just got engaged there, she said it was gorgeous.”

Aegon asks you from his desk: “Have you ever been?”

“I wish. Not yet, maybe one day.”

“You’ll have to come to the wedding!” Becca says cheerfully.

“Me?!” It’s ridiculous; you’re a nobody, you barely know her, you have a crush on her future husband.

“Yeah, all of Aegon’s clients are invited. Aren’t they, babe?” Becca glances at him, and then her eyes catch there and they stare at each other, Aegon slumped in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, Becca standing next to you, and there are several slow awkward seconds of silence. Aegon gets a piece of Juicy Fruit gum from a pack on his desk and shoves it into his mouth. Becca looks at you and then back to Aegon, who is pretending to organize the clutter on his desk. You notice for the first time that there is a ceramic bowl of Honeycrisp apples there.

“I thought you didn’t like those,” you say to alleviate the tension that you don’t understand.

“Well, Brando eats them,” Aegon explains.

“That makes sense.”

“And I guess they’re growing on me.”

“They’re really good for you,” you say. “Helps to balance out all the boneless spare ribs.”

Now Becca is studying you, and instead of being warm she is now cold and rigid and perplexed. After a while she asks stiffly: “What are you two up to today?”

“We’re going to the Flower District,” Aegon tells her as he rolls his gum wrapper into a ball between his palms. “I’ll be done in a few hours, I just have to get some current pics of her to send to people. So we’re going to do a quick impromptu photoshoot.”

Becca nods, still scrutinizing you. You open your Perrier and start gulping it so you have an excuse not to talk.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” Aegon asks Becca, and she perks up a bit.

“Beef bourguignon. It’s a new recipe, I’m really excited to try it.”

Aegon pretends to drool. “Amazing. I can’t wait.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” Becca says, and goes to leave.

“It was so nice to meet you!” you call after her.

Becca replies curtly without stopping: “Yup. You too.” You hear the two-inch heels of her gold sandals tapping on the scuffed wood floor and then the rough opening and closing of the front door of the half-duplex.

“What just happened?” you ask Aegon.

“Nothing,” he says, standing from his desk. His shoes match his shirt, a green plaid Ralph Lauren button-up that isn’t tucked into his jeans. His hair is slicked back and shiny with gel.

“I’m sorry, did I…did I do something wrong…?”

He sighs. “No.”

You toy anxiously with your Perrier bottle. You don’t want Aegon to fire you; you don’t want to lose him. He’s the only person who understands. “You should have told me we were going to be taking pictures. I would have done my hair and worn normal eyeshadow.”

He smiles. “I wanted you to look like you.” Then he heads off to his Chrysler Sebring, and you follow him.

The Flower District is on the other side of Chinatown in Downtown Los Angeles. It’s the largest wholesale flower market in the country, six blocks of vendors selling every plant imaginable, from ordinary daisies and tulips to bamboo shoots, ferns, herbs, cactuses, succulents, baby trees, house plants like monstera and ivy. The aroma is overwhelming; when you breathe deeply, you imagine prismatic blossoms bursting up through the alveoli of your lungs, roses and irises and calla lilies and orchids. Aegon weaves through the aisles and frowns at the magnificent flowers, none of them right for some reason. You are endlessly pausing to sniff petals and gingerly graze your fingerprints over leaves. Aegon has to backtrack to find you when you stop to watch a demonstration of a Venus flytrap being fed.

“Here we go!” Aegon announces triumphantly when at last he is satisfied, and he lifts the large bouquet from a plastic bucket for you to see: massive sunflowers, water dripping off the cut stems. “They’re sunny, just like you. You like them?”

“I love them,” you say, taking the bouquet and beaming. Aegon pays in cash.

Outside under the harsh cloudless sunlight, he poses you in front of one of the flower shops, pedestrians walking behind you and a rainbow myriad of blooms out of focus. He uses his phone to take a series of photos, some up-close and some full-body shots, and you had assumed it would be awkward but it’s not, Aegon is making jokes and you are laughing and trying weird angles and spinning around so the skirt of your sundress swishes despite the lack of a breeze.

“Cool, got some good ones,” Aegon says, scanning through his phone. “We’re done.”

“What should I do with these?” you ask about the sunflowers. “Do you want them back?”

“Why would I want them back?”

“I don’t know. You paid for them, it feels weird for me to keep them.”

“They’re yours. Enjoy.”

You inhale the faint floral scent that emanates from the yellow petals. “I’m going to put them in a vase on the kitchen counter and buy them flower food so they live as long as possible. And I’m going to talk to them, because that’s supposed to be good for plants.”

Aegon chuckles. “You are ridiculous.” He slides his phone into the pocket of his jeans and sees an ice cream vendor up the street, then gestures for you to come with him. The ice cream is allegedly homemade and only comes in five flavors. Aegon orders for you both. “Hi, one vanilla and one strawberry.”

The vendor scoops the ice cream into two waffle cones. Again, as he always does, Aegon pays in cash. You locate an available bench and you and Aegon sit together with the sunflower bouquet lying between you, watching the pedestrians stroll by with their friends and partners and children and dogs.

“Tastes better when you make it,” Aegon says, licking melting strawberry ice cream from his waffle cone. “I might have another job for you.”

“Really?! Yay!”

“It’s a little unorthodox, but you said you’d take anything.”

“I definitely will.”

“It’s a music video for Maroon 5,” Aegon cautions. “It’s honestly pretty uninspiring and stupid, but it’s work. It’s another last-minute thing, at first the girlfriend of one of the band dudes was supposed to be in the video but I guess now they’re fighting all the time and the guy doesn’t like the idea of having a permanent reminder of her if they break up, which seems likely.’”

“I want to do it,” you say immediately. “When?”

“They’re planning to film the first week in July at a mansion in Beverly Hills. They already have a male actor cast. And you don’t even have to kiss him or anything, you get to argue with him in the first scene and then the rest of it is mostly you just moping around the mansion in designer outfits. Again, it’s super unoriginal. Boy and girl have a miscommunication and split, boy regrets it afterwards, they both secretly and photogenically yearn for each other. It’s very Edward leaving Bella in New Moon.”

“Sounds fantastic! Do I get to meet Maroon 5?”

Aegon is disappointed. “Are you a fan?”

“Well…not really.” You both laugh. “But I feel like it’s always cool to meet celebrities in real life.”

“Yes, you get to meet them.”

You cheer. “You are the most talented agent ever!” You take a lick of your ice cream; it’s almost gone now. You look over at Aegon, serious now. “You’re the only person who doesn’t think I’m absolutely insane for trying to do this.”

He crunches his waffle cone with his teeth. “Your roommate’s an actress, right? She must get it.”

You shrug. “Baela is confident, and magnetic, and she wants to be famous. She’s very obviously meant to be in this industry, and agents and directors respond to her. But I’m not like that. Most people don’t notice me. And that’s okay, I don’t really want to be famous. I just want to be able to be a working actor and get to stay here. If I’m not making significant progress by the end of the year, I have to choose between going back to Minnesota or being disowned and impoverished.”

Aegon watches you, thoughtful, maybe a little sad. “I like you the way you are, sunshine.”

You smile shyly at him. “Thanks. I like you too.”

“And I don’t want you to change. It’s horrible to watch someone disappear.” He devours the rest of his waffle cone. “You know…I think helping you get to where you’re going, and making sure it’s done the right way…that will be the last good thing I ever do here.”

“You don’t have to retire.”

He shakes his head. “Circumstances change. Priorities change.”

“Do you want kids?” If Becca is in her thirties, perhaps now is the time to start planning for that.

“No,” Aegon says, flinching. “Definitely no kids. You’re anti-horse, I’m anti-kid.”

“Then what’s the rush to leave L.A.?”

“It’s the right time.”

“Not for me.” You grin. “I just got here. You can’t abandon me yet.”

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of before I go. I’ll get someone I trust to sign you.”

“But I don’t want another agent.”

“The music video director asked to meet you before filming,” Aegon says, deflecting. “It’ll be quick, just ten or fifteen minutes. We’ll swing by his office on the way back to Elysian Park.”

“Okay,” you agree. You take a makeup compact out of your Patricia Nash purse and use the mirror to make sure you don’t have any ice cream on your nose or chin.

“I haven’t worked with him before,” Aegon says. “But I’ve heard very good things and obviously I’ll be there at the shoot.”

You snap your compact shut. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

In a spacious, glass-walled office in Downtown, the director introduces himself as Dan Sacco. He is tall and broad through the shoulders and extremely welcoming, offering you drinks and snacks and asking about your hometown as Aegon stands in the corner of the room, his hands in his pockets and his eyes watchful. Two jobs in two weeks; Aegon is a miracle worker.

When you get home to your apartment, it’s empty. Baela and Jace must have gone out somewhere for dinner. You put the sunflowers in a vase and then scroll through Instagram. Aegon has posted a new story: a photo of you standing with your bouquet and smiling, not sexy or alluring or arrogant but simply happy, and he must be very knowledgeable about filters because you think you look great.

Future Hollywood Walk of Fame star recipient, Aegon has added as a caption. If you want to book her, you know where to find me. He finished with a sunflower emoji. You press the heart button in the bottom right corner of the screen to like the story. Your own heart is racing now in the best way possible, feverish and loud, intoxicated, needful, seams ready to rupture.

You look up Becca’s Instagram, but her account is private. You send her a follow request. She doesn’t accept it.

~~~~~~~~~~

The night before the shoot, there is a knock at your door. It’s 8:30 p.m., a strange hour, not early enough for Amazon deliveries or a visit from one of Jace’s eccentric PhD program friends, not late enough for a drunk tenant to have mistaken your apartment for their own. When you open the door, you are at first so shocked you can’t place him. Then you remember where you know the hulking man in the tan suit from. It’s Dan, the director of the music video.

“Oh my God, hi!” you welcome him. You have just gotten home from Cold Stone Creamery and are still in your drab grey uniform. You always drive to and from work now, per Aegon’s insistence. You promised you’d listen, and you’re trying your best. Jace is in Baela’s bedroom banging on his Yamaha keyboard. From the velvet orange couch in the living room where she is watching The Vampire Diaries, Baela peeks curiously over at where your visitor fills up the doorway.

Dan seems pleased by your enthusiasm. “Hello again.”

“Can I help you with something? I know the shoot is tomorrow, I’m really excited. I was about to get ready for bed so I can go to sleep early and be well-rested. There’s not a problem with the music video, is there? Please don’t say it’s cancelled or that I’m fired or something.”

Dan chuckles, a deep slow rumble. “No, nothing like that. I just wanted to give you a heads up that we added a scene to the script.” He holds up a thin packet of papers held together by a single staple. “I’m not allowed to leave it in an unsecured location, so I have to take it with me when I go. But I thought you should be aware so you’re prepared when you show up to set.”

“Aw, that’s so thoughtful of you!” You take the packet and flip through it, skimming for an unfamiliar scene. “Did you get my address from Aegon? Or Brandon, his receptionist?”

“It was in your file that they sent over,” Dan says, perhaps a bit guardedly, and before you can ask anything else you stumble upon the scene, and your stomach drops. The actress—me, you think, that’s not some other woman, that’s me—will be lying in a vast empty bathtub, soaked hair, dripping skin, black lingerie, writhing and whimpering as she mourns the loss of her lover.

“Um…the bathtub scene?” you squeak.

“It’s going to be so cinematic,” Dan says, his large hands painting a picture with dramatic gestures. “Sunlight streaming in through a window, your skin glowing, you’ve drained the tub but you’re too heartbroken to get up so you’re just sprawled there, still drenched from the bathwater. Obviously it would make more sense if you were naked, but…we can’t do that in a music video.” He laughs. “But the aesthetic will be divine, like sexy mourning widow. And we’ll get all kinds of shots, you crying, you angry, you pining, you flirting and beckoning the camera closer, and we can get creative, you can just kind of crawl around all over the tub and we’ll see what you come up with.”

You gaze at the script until all the words vanish, imaging a room full of men watching you roll around in underwear, black lace wet and clinging to your skin, no secrets, nowhere to disappear. I can’t do that. But you can’t say no. “Is there going to be a woman on set to…you know, to…like…supervise, or, or something…?”

“You mean an intimacy coordinator?”

“Yes, thank you, that’s the term I was looking for.” Does Aegon know about this? He has to, right?

“Well, it’s not a sex scene,” Dan says rationally. “It’s not even a kissing scene. So we would never pay to have an intimacy coordinator around for this, it’s completely unnecessary.”

“Oh.” I can’t do that. I can’t do that. You feel nauseous; you feel dizzy, like you might stagger if you try to move.

“Look, if you’re uncomfortable, that’s totally cool,” Dan says. “I get it, a job like this isn’t for everyone. I have a list of backups I can call, and I can find somebody else—”

“No!” you cry out, then give the script back to Dan and manage a smile. “No, sorry, I was just a little confused, but I understand now. Thank you for letting me know about the new scene, and I can absolutely handle it.”

“Great.” He grins proudly. “I knew I could count on you. See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

Dan lumbers down the hallway, and you close the door when he’s out of sight. Baela asks from the couch: “What do they want you to do?”

You swallow noisily. “Roll around essentially naked in a bathtub.”

Baela nods; she doesn’t seem alarmed. Is this normal? Are you unreasonable? “Bikini?”

“Lingerie.”

“Want to know a trick?” she says. “After you shave, run a Stridex pad over your skin. I have a container of them in the bathroom cabinet, use as many as you want. It’ll burn at first, but it kills any bacteria and prevent razor burn. No bumps or ingrown hairs!”

“Thanks,” you reply weakly.

Baela squints at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” A lie.

“It’s not that bad,” she says reassuringly. “I know it seems like the end of the world, but once you do a nude scene or a sex scene once, the nerves go away and it’s just another day at work. You’ll get through it. You’ll do an incredible job.”

I don’t want to give up the dream. I don’t want to leave Los Angeles. I don’t want to leave Aegon.

“You’re probably right,” you tell Baela, and you pretend to be fine so she won’t worry, or pity you, or be further convinced that you don’t belong here.

You shower, shave, scrub your skin with stinging Stridex pads, and long after you were supposed to be asleep you’re still staring up at your bedroom ceiling, a deep blue shadowscape with no stars.

[contamination-zone]

I think its fun to write Fresh animalistically, but sometimes it makes me a bit sad cus there are many cute animal things I don't think Fresh would ever do haha.

further yapping under cut

Its like, I think its important to keep in mind real animals, and the reasons they would have certain instincts. Fresh isn't a social animal to me, or at least not a highly social animal. He's something that wouldn't be living in large groups for the vast extant of his existence. most of the time he would be alone, or not seeking out social bonds. So I think most social animal things... he just wouldn't do. So no yawning or rolling over or sneezing during playfights </3

That's not a hard rule though, because, he is also a mimic; he wants individuals of his hosts species to not know he's not one of them, at least, for the most part. So I think if he's in one species for long enough, he'll end up copying them to make sure he fits in. The acts wouldn't be instinctual though, just the fact he Wants to copy them. He would roll over, as a practiced action he is consciously deciding to do, to garner trust.

Social actions he does do instinctively I think, wouldn't be as sophisticated but I think he would have Some. Maybe something similar to things like alligator [or maybe crocodile? I can't remember], where they can tell another individual is going for certain prey, so they go for something else. Fresh can tell Nightmare's gang is off limits because someone else is eating them, and that he can't eat Blue either, because a larger predator has its eyes on them. Things like that.

I also like to take into account inspiration species, like octopus, which I base a lot of other things about Fresh on. They can share dens with other individuals without much problem, but its not really a social thing? more, they don't Mind. So I don't think Fresh Wants to be sleeping next to someone, but he won't get freaked out/be unable to sleep somewhere if he was cuddling with someone :-]

Most importantly, I like to consider the fact that Fresh, as an individual, is Very smart, and while animal instincts are fun and all, many individuals, even animals, have behaviors that are not solely based on instinct. He can have an animalistic world-view and not be an idiot haha.

[the-unidentified-author]

The Lord, The Lady and The Long Winter | Cregan Stark | House of the Dragon

Chapter 2/5?: The Wolf of the North

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 - Comming soon

Cregan Stark x House Baratheon Reader

One or more parts in this story will include the following:

Warnings/ Tags: SMUT[NSFW}, smut, minors DNI, new relationship, arguments, harsh words,longing, p in v, creampie, cum play, a little rough, Cunnilingus, fingering, consensual!, hes a big man, orgasm denial, one orgasm after another 🚨SLOW BURN🚨

Summary: You’re betrothed to Cregan Stark. The pair of you navigate this relationship of convenience and perhaps even find love.

Word Count: 3,317

*Not my Gif

A/N RANT: I find writing easy. I just splat ideas down on the page. It’s the editing that really gets me. I spend so much time deleting and rewriting, googling synonyms because somehow I’ve managed to use the same word 4,000 times in the last twenty sentences. Agonising over the wording and then Word for some reason trying to make me spell things in american. Then the grammar actually sends me over the edge, Word telling me that there should be a comma, so I add a comma and then no that’s wrong there shouldn’t be a comma there. It actually makes me go feral. Anyway, if anyone wonders why it takes me so long to post more parts, these are some of the reasons.

Chapter 1

It had taken a little over a month for your father and your entourage to reach the castle of Winterfell. As you journeyed, the number of layers and furs you wore in the carriage increased, each piece a necessary defence against the northern chill. It was the last day of the trip, and you were thankful it had finally come to an end, eager to sleep in the same bed for more than one night in a row. You stepped up into the carriage and turned to your father, who was already seated, his expression one of calm reassurance. "Almost there," he said, his voice steady as he attempted a smile.

You averted your gaze, sitting down and looking out at the landscape that unfolded outside. A heavy blanket of snow cloaked the ground, transforming the world into a vast, seamless expanse of white. The trees stood tall and skeletal, their branches laden with frost that sparkled like diamonds in the weak and low winter sun. Occasionally, the wind howled through the barren branches, sending a shiver down your spine and creating an eerie symphony that filled the otherwise still air.

The world outside seemed lifeless, devoid of colour and warmth—how you longed for the vibrant greens and the golden hues of the south, of home. You hadn’t seen an animal for more than a week, and the silence felt oppressive, magnifying the sense of isolation that you felt. Your mind wandered to what your sisters would be doing right now, likely studying or playing in the garden with your mother watching sewing something beautiful as she always was. A lump formed in your throat as you thought about how long it would be until you saw them again. This new landscape was as much a part of your new life as your upcoming marriage; it revealed in its stark beauty but also served as a constant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. With the shutter closed, you felt a growing knot of anxiety within you, the weight of the impending changes heavy as the snow that blanketed the ground.

At some point, you had fallen asleep, though you couldn't recall when. The anticipation of the day had kept you awake through most of the night, and the uncomfortable seat of the carriage left your body aching. But then, the resounding blast of trumpets heralding your arrival jolted you from your sleep.

“Are we here?" you asked, glancing at your father, whose expression was distant, as if lost in thought.

"Yes," he replied, turning his gaze to meet yours.

"How long do we have before meeting the Starks?" you asked, smoothing your clothes and hoping the nap hadn’t left your hair in disarray.

"Lord Stark will greet us as soon as we step out of the carriage," your father replied, straightening in his seat.

"What? Aren’t we meeting in the hall after we've freshened up?" you exclaimed, taken aback by the immediacy, realising just how soon you'd face the man who’d share your future.

"Ah, but they're Northerners," your father said with a dismissive wave, "They'd find you lovely even in rags." The carriage lurched forward, jolting you both, as your heart raced.

You thought you would have just a little more time, a chance to gather your thoughts and brace yourself for the momentous introduction. Panic rose inside you as it became clear you had mere minutes before meeting the man who would be your husband.

Your heart raced with a flurry of questions and doubts. Would he be as the tales described—harsh and unyielding as the Northern winters—or might there be warmth beneath the layers of fur and Stoic silence? The uncertainties swirled, each more daunting than the last, wrapping around your thoughts like a relentless blizzard.

You fidgeted with the edge of your cloak, trying to calm the rising tide of unease. What if your mannerisms seemed too foreign, your presence too delicate for the rugged North? At this moment, you realised your entire future might rely on one singular, daunting introduction.

You focused on your breathing, counting each inhale and exhale slowly to five, as your mother had taught you to do in moments of unease. Her voice echoed in your mind, recounting stories of Lord Cregan Stark and how he had become the embodiment of his house’s strength. At just seventeen, he had fought for power against his uncle, rallying the North to his cause and earning the legendary title of the Wolf of the North.

Now, at twenty-five, he was widely renowned as the most powerful man in the region, with whispers even calling him the King in the North. His influence stretched far, untethered by the intricacies of southern politics. In the refuge of your measured breathing, you hoped to draw some comfort from the formidable reputation of the man who would soon become your husband. Could a man so brilliant at war be kind?

The carriage came to a rest, jolting you back to the present, you looked at your father, who attempted to give you a reassuring nod as the door of the carriage swung open. He moved through it first, giving you a precious few moments to prepare yourself before he turned and extended his hand inside the carriage to help you out and down.

The cold hit you first, making you draw a sharp breath, the icy air burning your lungs. For a brief moment, you looked around and watched as snowflakes danced in the chilled air, touching gently on Winterfell's ancient stone façade. You stepped out, the snow crunching beneath your feet, you were thankful for your father's firm grasp on your hand, worried for a moment that without it, you would slip.

The northern air was sharp and invigorating, a biting chill that seemed to permeate the very fabric of everything it touched. It was the kind of cold that, if endured for too long, would nestle deep into your bones, leaving a lingering reminder of the North’s untamed power. Pulling your thick cloak more tightly around yourself, you sought its warmth and comfort, a shield against the relentless chill.

Your father stepped forward with the practiced grace of his station, turning to address the Northerners who had assembled to witness your arrival.

"Greetings House Stark, I am Lord Borros Baratheon, of the House Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End. I have come to present to you, my daughter." His voice was, steady and confident. It carried over the soft whisper of the wind, acknowledging the strength of the Northern families and the significance of the union that would soon bind Baratheon and Stark.

He turned to you and gestured for you to step forwards, and you did, curtseying to the group. Your eyes swept over the crowd of Northerners—a sea of rugged faces hardened by the winter landscape. And there he stood, amidst them, undeniably Cregan Stark. His towering form was enveloped in commanding furs, every inch the lord who embodied the unforgiving north. He looked younger than you thought he would, hearing stories of how the north aged you beyond your years made you worried about what you would be confronted with up getting here.

Cregan stepped forward with an elegant grace, offering a formal bow. Yet, the warmth in his eyes spoke an unspoken promise of understanding and curiosity.

"Welcome to Winterfell," his voice resonated, deep and steady, his accent thick.

Your father and Cregan began discussing the plans for the coming days, their voices a steady hum amidst the towering stone walls of Winterfell. You followed closely behind them, the chill of the Northern air slowly giving way to the warmth of the hall, its fires crackling and casting flickering shadows that danced across the ancient stone.

Eventually, you found your place on a chair, one of many surrounding a small table strewn with maps and parchments that detailed the intricacies of alliances and strategies. The gathering of lords settled into their respective seats, enveloping the table in a sense of purpose and gravitas. Your father leaned forward, engaged in discussions about the expectations of this union, emphasising duty and honour—the very fabric of noble life.

As they spoke, a few lords occasionally cast friendly glances in your direction, but you could sense the unspoken rules that governed the conversation. This was not the sort of assembly where women were expected to voice their thoughts; instead, you listened intently, absorbing the dialogue around you. It was both fascinating and daunting, a whirlwind of responsibilities that felt far removed from the warmth of family gatherings you had known.

You were taken aback that they allowed you to sit at the table at all, a privilege that your father would never have granted you in the South. Perhaps the customs were different in the North, a notion that intrigued and unsettled you. As your gaze wandered around the assembly, it landed on one woman at the table—until that moment, you hadn't realised she was among them.

Dressed in masculine attire, she seemed to blend right in with the lords surrounding her, sitting tall and confident as they addressed her with the same respect reserved for their male counterparts. It was a striking sight, one that momentarily pulled you from your anxious thoughts about the future.

Then, the unexpected happened; she caught your eye and offered a warm smile that brightened her otherwise stern countenance. Heat rose to your cheeks as you realised you had been staring. Quickly, you turned your attention back to Cregan, the man you were to marry, feeling the weight of the room around you as you grappled with the complexities of your new reality.

Cregan Stark was a striking figure to behold, towering head and shoulders above your father, making it instantly clear why others held him in such high esteem. His presence conveyed more than mere physical stature; as soon as he began to speak, his demeanour and the way he carried himself revealed the essence of a man of honour. Unlike the tall men of the South, who seemed like a gust of wind might send them hurtling over the battlements into the sea, Cregan's stature was built broad and firm.

The cloak draped over his shoulders only added to his impressive build, yet you could tell at a glance that this was a physique forged through hard work and rigorous training, not by indulgence in luxuries. Every movement hinted at discipline and strength, an embodiment of the Northern spirit you had heard so much about.

Your eyes focused intently on his face as he spoke, captivated by the way his shoulder-length brown hair framed his features, catching the light to highlight the rugged lines that undeniably spoke of his Northern lineage. Cregan had a strong jaw, lending a chiseled quality to his visage that perfectly complemented the air of unyielding determination he exuded.

But it was his piercing blue eyes that truly drew you in—striking and deep, they seemed to hold an entire world within them. In contrast to the often stark demeanour he carried, those eyes contained an unexpected warmth, like a flickering flame against the cold backdrop of winter. There was a kindness in their depths, a silent promise that perhaps beneath the fierce exterior lay a man capable of tenderness and understanding. With every glance, you felt the pull of his gaze, an invitation to see beyond the bravado and discover the complexities that made him who he was.

He turned and met your eye, and it took you a second to realise that he had asked you a question, you looked around the room at the lords. All poised to listen to your response. You looked to your father for guidance.

"You'll have to excuse my daughter, the journey north has been long. However, I do think that she has enough strength left to accept your suggestion of a tour of Winterfell." he smiled at Lord Stark, who looked from you to your father, an understanding smile playing on his lips as he worked out you hadn't been paying attention.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t expose your lapse in concentration, just stood and shook your father's hand. You stood too as all the other lords stood and moved towards the door. You watched as they filtered out of the room, your father and Cregan being the only two aside from yourself still left in the room.

"Well, I would say that no chaperone is required, it is said that no one in the realms have as much honour as the Starks." your father said, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword as he looked between the two of you.

He nodded and gave you a small smile and turned to leave the room, the guards at the door opening and closing the door. You felt the resounding boom of the door closing in your chest as it seemed to echo around the entire room. The room seemed smaller as you looked from the door to Lord Stark, he looked so much more intimidating now it was only you in the room.

"My Lady, what part of Winterfell would you like to see first?" he asked stepping towards you.

"I- I don’t know." you whispered, finding it too difficult to look him in the eye.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to your cloak which you had removed and placed on the back of your chair.

You nodded, he carefully picked it up and placed it over your shoulders, you moved your hands to do up the buckle that would secure it to your body and turned to Lord Stark. The massive sword slung across his back caught your attention, its hilt visible above his shoulder—a symbol of the strength and legends whispered in the halls of your childhood home. It seemed a natural extension of him—an embodiment of Cregan Stark, the warrior and the lord.

He smiled down at you, warmth and friendliness lighting up his features. With a gentle tilt of his eyebrow, he extended his elbow towards you, inviting you to take it.

"Well, I shall show you my favourite parts of the castle, and then we'll join your father and the other lords for a late tea," he said, his deep voice smooth and rich, like honey.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, as you took his hand and allowed him to guide you out of the room. Agreeing to marry someone you had never met was undoubtedly a gamble, fraught with uncertainties. Yet, with this match, a sense of hopefulness stirred within you—a feeling as if you had struck gold in a world tarnished by rusted steel.

Your thoughts drifted back to the moment you first learned of your betrothal. That night, your mother had remained by your side, holding you close as you cried, part of you mourning your childhood and the other terrified of the future. She assured you that everything would be alright, words you initially dismissed as just the comforting words you say to someone when they're crying.

But now, with time and distance, you started to see that moment in a different light. There was a certainty in her voice that had been unwavering, and it made you wonder if she had played a part in your match with Lord Stark. Her confidence lingered in your mind, suggesting that perhaps this match carried more promise than you dared to imagine in those initial, tear-filled moments.

Winterfell was a beautiful castle, said to be one of the oldest still standing. As Cregan showed you around, you noticed something different in the way he spoke. Unlike most men, who seemed more interested in proving themselves smarter than you by belittling or over-explaining, Lord Stark had a unique approach.

His way of speaking about the castle and its history felt more like listening to a passionate teacher than a rehearsed lecture. He engaged you with stories, making each tale and detail come alive, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of respect and curiosity grow within you. It was refreshing and made you appreciate not only Winterfell, but also the man guiding you through its storied halls.

He had suggested that the two of you look out over the battlements before retiring to the great hall for something to eat. The climb up to the battlements was more challenging than you had anticipated. The stairs were far narrower than any you had navigated at Storm's End, making you marvel at how men clad in armour could swiftly manoeuvre them during times of war. Yet, as you reached the top, the sight that greeted you was nothing short of breathtaking—a vast, snowy landscape stretching as far as the eye could see. There was a vast expanse of forest in the distance, but even that was coated in snow.

Your home back in Storm's End prided itself on its massive walls for protection against invaders. However, here at Winterfell, the tall walls paired with its isolated, formidable position in the North presented a different kind of strength. The harsh, unforgiving landscape surrounding Winterfell seemed an ally to its defenders, an icy gauntlet capable of claiming the lives of unprepared southern soldiers long before they could even reach the walls. The beauty and latent power of the scene sent a shiver through you, a reminder of the resilience required to thrive in this raw and rugged part of the world.

"There is a small moat hidden by the snow at the bottom of the wall," Cregan began, his gaze shifting to you with a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he was sharing a secret of the North only a few were privy to. "If aren't aware of it and attempt to climb the wall, you sink into snow taller than a man."

You withdrew your hand from the warmth of your fur muff, moving to grasp the metal handle fixed to the wall, hoping to steady yourself for a better view over the battlements. The chill of the metal immediately shot through your fingers, contrasting sharply with the cozy warmth of the muff.

"Agh," you gasped, yanking your hand away from the frigid metal.

Before you could even check for injury, Cregan Stark's gloved hand enveloped yours with a surprising gentleness. He looked down at your hand, his thumb softly brushing across your palm, sending a tingle through your skin. "Careful, My Lady," he murmured, his voice carrying a deep, soothing timbre. "Warm hands stick to cold metal. You could lose some skin if you're not careful."

You grimaced at the thought and glanced back at the metal, reassuring yourself that none of your skin lingered there. "It burns,” you whispered, eyes dropping to the red mark on your palm.

Cregan's gaze met yours, holding a mix of concern and something unspoken. He raised his hand to his mouth, biting the finger of his glove and pulling it off, his breath misting in the cold air. He placed his large, now bare hand over yours, its warmth seeping through your skin, soothing the sting of the cold. His touch seemed to linger longer than necessary, then he removed his hand from yours and pulled the glove from his mouth.

"Careful my Lady, the cold burns sometimes more than fire." He remarked, eyes locked on yours, before slipping his hand back into the glove with deliberate care. "We ought to get you some gloves." His voice carried both practicality and an undercurrent of tenderness that surprised you.

He offered his arm once more, and this time, as you looped your arm around his, the touch felt more intimate, more charged. You tucked your hand back into your fur muff, your hand still feeling the ghost of his.

A Link to My Complete Inventory

[these-detestable-hands]

It's been a bit since I've interacted with octopath so my stuff on these ships may be a little rusty but I'll argue for them anyway.

Castitio (Castti x Partitio)

Before the game even came out, I thought they'd be a silly couple. Lady who doesn't remember and guy bursting at the seems with kindness. I think they're got a neat dynamic, with Castti teasing him a bit but they get along and are friends. Some post canon hcs I have are that Partitio would help Castti set up an organization that produces medicine and teaches about it cause he loves her and he's got the funding anyway. Also I do think being exposed to the poison rain twice did stuff to Castti so I like to hc she's disabled post canon, being a wheelchair user due to muscle weakness, having very little lung capacity and CPTSD. Also not a disability but she has eczema-like purple splotches on her body. Sorry I needed an excuse to quickly mention my disabled Castti headcanons. While they're engaged, Partitio and Floyd work on completely renovating a house to accommodate all of Castti's needs, so like low counters she can reach while on her wheelchair, only one floor, wide doorways, blackout curtains so she can sleep during the day, etc. Castti keeps insisting that she doesn't need that much help and that she's navigating normal houses just fine but then she'd see all the accommodations in their new house and bawl for hours. She'd work less and take it easy post canon. Listen I just think they'd be a really cute couple. Castti patches up your broken arm then her husband comes in and starts cracking jokes and talking about affordable public transportation. I feel like I'm also forgetting a lot of stuff but oh well. I've got a few fics for them posted on ao3, account name: BigOrangeOnion

Ophikari (Ophilia x Hikari) (I also call them The Radiance (hollow knight reference and it makes sense for an au))

OKAY SO this ship started out as an au when the ot1 travelers were added to ot2 for that update last year. Basically, post canon, Hikari visits the arena whenever he's in Montwise. This time, he goes and there's some omega powerful warriors fighting ruthlessly and with no concern for themselves. He realizes it's because they've got some kinda of curse, similar to him with the shadow (I THINK that's what it was called).

So Hikari starts working on figuring out how to free them because their current existence seems miserable. The first he manages to free is Ophilia, by using light magic near her. The light magic makes her briefly remember who she was but it's enough for her to snap out of the mind control that she's been put under. She talks to Hikari and explains that her and her friends were mind controlled by a very weak but not quite dead Galdera, in attempts to conquer and gain more power so he could heal himself faster. So the two of them start working on freeing the other travelers together.

Along the way, they ofc fall in love. I don't remember an awful lot about them unfortunately but I implore anyone reading this to write stuff for them :]

Here's a little drawing I did of them together. I'd include Castitio drawings if I had any but I am not big on drawing ship art unfortunately.

H'aanit x Cyrus x Castti (in a QPR!!! :3)

So this is probably the one I've explored the least purely because I never really shared it with anyone. I keep it to myself because of the amount of hyper specific and sad headcanons. But basically it was an au where I'd just mix and match travelers n stuff. Like just putting different travelers in different continents with weird team compositions cause I'm a big fan of aus and crossovers.

One of the ones I liked the most is where Castti leaves Solistia by herself to explore post canon because she's not very close with the other travelers and self isolates a little. This au starts out kinda sad cause of the focus on my hcs for various characters' mental illnesses. H'aanit is initially traveling alone but Castti joins her and they're a relatively quiet but very effective and productive duo. Later, Cyrus, Olberic, Primrose and Ophilia join. They all have their problems to work through and get through them together.

Castti has to deal with self worth and realizing that she's more than just the team healer.

H'aanit has always had anxiety around losing Z'aanta, which is really bad throughout the entire story so Castti often ends up calming her down during panic attacks and they get really close because of the mutual trust there.

Idk exactly how to describe Cyrus' problems but he's really jumpy and nervous and a little bit angry all the time because of being accused of, y' know, sleeping with a student. Yeah no I never understood why Cyrus wasn't that angry about it, even when I first played the game at age 10.

I think Cyrus is just dealing with the new found rage he constantly has. He had anger management issues as a kid but worked through them and they're just now coming back cause he's been thrown out of his home and people he used to be friends with think the worst of him and he's got no one but this new friend group he hardly knows. You get it.

The story is the three of them (and Olberic, Ophilia and Prim, but this post is about ships so I'll talk about them another time) as they deal with their mental health issues. Through helping each other with these very personal problems, they become very close and eventually decide to be in a qpr together. I think they'd just live relatively quiet lives in S'warkii cause Cyrus is too upset to return to Atlasdam and Castti isn't too keen on going back to Solistia after falling head over heels in love with two people in Osterra.

I don't remember way too much for this au unfortunately. I think they should all cuddle and finally get a good night's sleep for once cause no way a single one of those bitches sleeps well with the crap they see and have experienced.

Sorry I wrote so much. Here is a little drawing based on an Olberic chapter 2 travel banter and the most important H'aanit fact.

I miss octopath yapping with people so uh yknow what! We’re gonna play a game!!

Explain in the notes what y’all’s favorite ships are and why you like them!!!

Only rules are

1) do not explain why everyone should think your ship is canon, as that is not the point of this post 2) do not put any other ships down bc that is also not the point of this post 3) ALL games are included (yes including cotc) 4) ANY SHIPS ARE ALLOWED!!! GO NUTS!!!!

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

꧁✬⋆°◦. 𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓒𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 ⋆°◦✬꧂

Gi hun if you died

Characters: gi hun (player 456)

Warnings: angst obvi, death and canon violence,descriptions of dead people and blood, mental breakdowns, typical things that happens when someone close to someone else dies tragically idk. Also not edited we ball

A/N: these are kinda short but I’m deciding to write for evil and make something sad.

———-

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 456

- you already know he would be hysterical. Did you see him with sae byeok, sang woo and jung bae?

- doesn’t matter if you knew him outside the games or met inside, I feel like if he cared about you he’d be heart broken

- if you knew him on the outside he would have at the start vowed within himself to get you out. He would also tell you to stay close to him like he did Jung bae. He’d constantly have a look out for you and insist you stay in his team.

- gi hun after everything isn’t the type for grand gestures or anything but his care for you is clear. He will definitely share his food, tell you to sleep in his proximity, constantly checking in. He’s 100% worried all the time and all the more determined to you out (along with the others ofc)

- he’d be giving you advice, comforting you, watching over you at night. He’s your rock in the games and even if you don’t know it your his rock too

- you are kinda the thing he clings to. Not physically, but emotionally. He needs to see that you’re ok all the time and that he can get to you if you need saving. He talks to the other players about teamwork and looking out for each other and he does believe that but he’s also trying to cement people to look after you if he dies.

- you trusted him and always believed what he told you. You and the few people in his trusted circle know he isn’t crazy and know he really has played before. One of them particularly so.

- after the successful over take of the guards after lights out you had helped everyone prepare to invade. You were very anxious to let your precious gi hun run a war with no were to escape from. But he told you he could never live with himself if he didn’t do EVERYTHING he could to get you out, even if it meant sacrificing himself to do it.

- you noticed friend young il always seemed to be a step ahead. Constantly hanging around gi hun and by proxy you. To you it almost seemed like he saw something no one else could. He had a confidence no normal person would have in a death game. It’s not even artificial like thanos’ drug induced euphoria.

- you and Jung bae have discussed young il before and how for some reason you both couldn’t shake that something about him was wrong. You had no proof between the both of you but vibes, but it felt very comforting to know someone understood what you were talking about. Gi hun never picked up on any of it

- eventually you let them go to their battle in the fun house like room everyone had to go though to get to the actual game rooms. You gave him a hug and made him promise to come back. With teary eyes you said good luck to Jung bae, that you were rooting for dae ho, and that Hyun-ju was one of the most inspirational women you’ve ever met (bc she is :3).

- you said something to young il as well. You said “please stay safe, young il. I hope to see you soon” because although you thought he was odd you didn’t want him dead. But all he did was smile in a way you haven’t seen him yet. Like you said something amusing but he couldn’t say what it was or laugh yet. with that 120 led everyone out into the battle field.

- you had to stay in the dorms with everyone who stayed behind and waited for the battle team to return. There was an odd silence among everyone. You would have thought fights would have broken out between the X and O teams while the fight raged on but in reality everyone just kinda of froze. There was nothing else to do really other than wait for the outcome.

- sadly the outcome you hoped for was too far fetched even for this reality

- once in ho turned and brought the hammer down he was primarily focused on hurting gi hun in the worse ways possible. He spent all his time in the games watching and learning about everything ‘gi hun’ is. He’s caring, compassionate and for the most part understanding was well as brave/daring and a tad foolish. He values people’s lives and stories, the nuance in every person. He believes in people. That’s probably why he cares for you (maybe even loves you) . because he knows your story and he believes in you anyway. He sees your mistakes and shortcomings and stills sees the person underneath it all.

- and you are one of the only people in the world to know the gi hun that once was. You are able to love both versions of himself, the old and the new. You bring balance between them both and help him remain stable and motivated. Just as much as he believes in you, you make him believe in him self.

- in ho was able to notice all of that in the short time he saw you both interact in the games. So he planned accordingly. You and Jung bae (aside from his daughter I suppose) were quite literally the all he had left of gi huns old life. The last fragments of when his life was even remotely normal.

- all in ho saw in you was the moment that happened just after the call was made. Pink soldiers rushed the dormitory and began firing. You hear the slow stop of gunfire upstairs. They found you by number after resecuring the area and lead you out into what was the battle field. You saw countless bodies of both gaurd and player, people you had come to know and some from the O team you had come to fear. Although in this moment you still mourned them as you felt there was no difference anymore. There was blood plastered from ceiling to walls to floor in semi dried blood that was beginning to congeal from the air and the smell was sickening.

- you were lead through a complex maze of colorful walls and doors until you reached a all purple area. It was at that time you heard two very familiar voices. You turned a corner to see Jung bae and gi hun held at gun point by a strange looking man in an all grey coat and black geometric maskon the ground. Jung baes eyes were watery and fearful while gi huns were filled with rage and hatered. Until he saw you at least, then it all locked into place. He wasn’t stupid, he could read between the lines. You were brought here for a reason.

- you were suddenly thrown to the ground and held down a gaurd in front of gi hun and Jung bae as you began to scream. The realization hit you as well of course. You began to beg as well as gi hun. You to spare your life and gi hun to save you by saying you had nothing to do with what was between them. He seemed unfazed, much to your horror.

- “look at the consequences of your little hero game” the figure said with the signature deep robotic voice changer as he pointed the gun to your writhing and sobbing form on the ground. You turned to gi him with wide eyes, crying relentlessly as he stared back at you. He began to fight against the guards holding him, and it took a few. Jung bae even tried but to no avail. All you could muster was a small and pathetic “gi hun-“

- and all he could do was watch the only person who really truly knew both sides of him. The person who was there for him before and after the games. All he could do was watch one who brought purpose and guidance to him and kept his head on straights skull get peirced by a single bullet barely a few feet away. He screamed his lungs out as he began to weep. He barely had a few seconds before the barrel was pointed at Jung bae and again everything was taken from him again by the same mysterious man and this cruel operation

- he felt as though his whole world just shattered into pieces and he was the sole survivor. Even though more of the people he tried to save still are alive and need saving gi hun still felt completely alone and lost. Within a few mere minutes everything he’d been fighting for and everything he loved vanished and he felt as though it was all his fault. All he could thing about as he was held down one more time and forced to look at the dead bodies of the closest people he had was how he could have done more.

- he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed while unknowingly in the same room with his dear friend young il. that actually he was the one to pull the trigger and betray everyone.

- he felt another part of him die as he looked at your dead body, still so beautiful and meaningful to him, even dead and gone. Your story and best memories along with everyone else he’s lost will be permanently engrained in his brain. Especially you, the person he was able to love after everything that happened.

_______

[scorpioriesling]

OML so good things come it groups of three has had me in a headlock and I don’t want to escape. I have trieddddddd so very hard to find scraps of smth like it and I found nothing😔. So here I am wondering if we the people can get another Liam/Ridoc/Bodhi (or another combination of fw guys if ur feeling silly) x Reader PLEASE 🙏. If you wanna make it a part two or a whole new thing idc Ill eat whatever you give me your writing is AMAZING.

-🎀Anon

Good Things Come in Groups of Three (Round 2)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Liam x Ridoc x Bodhi x reader

Warning(s): 18+, mdni, smut

Summary: Studying in the library late at night has your mind wandering… you can blame it on the time of night, the lack of sleep, or simply being alone. Regardless of the excuse, you can’t seem to put those 3 boys out of your mind.

SR’s Note: Thank you for your patience, queen. (; I hope this part 2 measures up to your expectations!! Also, I don’t want to spoil anything, but I do have this group of 3 + reader involved once again!! It’s only a draft right now for Kinktober… so you definitely don’t want to miss out!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Your eyes roved over the text, trying to commit it to memory. Jesinia had done you a solid, pulling some of the best tomes for you to study before your test on Friday. Her expertise not only a scribe, but as your friend just might be what saved your grade.

If you could keep your mind from wandering, that is.

You'd caught yourself thinking, more than once, about the utterly insane predicament you'd found yourself in last week. It seemed that every time you turned a page in the textbook, images would race through your mind, each one as dirty as the last.

Liam fucking you in the shower.

Sitting atop Ridoc's face.

Bodhi's dick filling your throat.

...fuck.

You shake your head, the memory only sending more uncomfortable sensations to your core. This wasn't the time, nor the place -- nowhere, would ever be the time or place again. That was a one and done deal; one you'd be much too embarassed to repeat.

As your palms press into your eyes, you turn your attention to the wall clock, trying to make out the numbers it read.

11:57 pm.

Dammit, you hadn't wanted to be here this late. Perhaps all the reading and pouring over the material was good though, as you felt much more prepared for your upcoming exam. However, you'd failed to notice everyone emptying out of the library over the past few hours.

Your breath catches as you glance around, the dark silence of the hall sending a shiver down your spine. You were right, no one was here at this hour; it was simply you, and the stacks of books.

Book stacks you wouldn't mind being fucked against.

Okay, you really had to stop.

Glancing around once more, you slunk down into your chair a little lower, your fingers slowly leaving the table in favor of tracing along your leather pants. The pressure was getting unbearable, every moment of your past rendezvouz replaying in your mind as your panties grew wetter and wetter.

Ridoc's dick felt so good when he made you ride him.

You unzipped your leathers, your fingers slowly making their way underneath. A sigh escapes your lips as your fingertips brush your clothed clit, moving in small circles atop your panties.

Fuck... the sight of Liam jerking off to you too.

A soft whimper leaves your lips, your eyes widening into slits as you glance around one more time. You just had to make sure, certainly, that no one was in here.

Oh Gods... and Bodhi, spanking your ass-

"You do know this is a, public, space, don't you?"

Your eyes fly open, the figure standing just in the shadows of the nearby bookshelf causing your heart to race. Your hand flies from your pants as you shimmy in your chair, working to rezip.

"O-oh my Gods, uhm, oh my Gods-" you fumble, your vision blurred in embarassment as you stare down at your pants. Why wouldn't the damned zipper just fucking work, already?

Your breath hitches as a large, tanned hand moves atop yours. Your cheeks deepen in color, chest still rising and falling as the adrenaline courses through your veins.

"As your trainer," Bodhi says, his voice low. "I'd tell you to fix yourself, and send you to your dorm to finish this matter in private. Alone."

Your eyes slowly look up, meeting his darkened brown ones as he glares at you.

"But, as an interested party, I'm going to tell you to keep going."

You loose a shaky breath, his unforgiving stare a cross between anger and intrigue. You open your mouth to speak, but Bodhi's hand pushes your shoulder back against the back of the chair.

"Don't say a word, Y/N -- you got caught being a bad, bad girl." He tuts, leaning back to sit in the chair next to you. "Now, you answer to me."

You gulp, staying put as he stretches his legs out before him and gets comfortable, folding his muscled arms over his chest. He couldn’t possibly be serious!

"Keep going." He bites out, and you stare at him wide-eyed.

He scoffs. "What, now you can't hear, either? I said keep going." Your fingers fuddle with the waistband of your pants, shaking as you shove your leathers down to your knees.

"Mhm... play with that pussy, like the bad girl you fuckin' are."

Your fingers find your clit once more, the pleasure mounting in your core as Bodhi's eyes are glued to your every move. In an attempt to stifle your moan, your lip catches between your teeth, muffling the whimper. He's hovering over you in an instant, his hand braced against the back of your chair as his lips move mere inches from yours.

"Why so quiet tonight, hm?" He taunts, and you glare up at him as a wave of defiance rushes through you.

"B-because... it's a.. library." You grit out, failing to think of any other comeback. He laughs, full and unabashedly as he shakes his head low, his eyes meeting yours once more.

"You didn't seem to care that this is a library when you started playing with your cunt, though." He draws in a breath, his gaze flickering between your underwear and your face. "Bad riders don't get rewarded, Y/N... they only get punished."

Your heart races as two more figures appear from the shadows, their hungry gazes trained on you and your minstrations. A small swallow in fear is all Bodhi needs before his hands grip at your waist, hauling you atop the table and sending the books scattering to the floor.

"B-Bodhi... what-"

"Ohh, don't act like this isn't what you wanted," Ridoc sneers from beside you. He leans casually against the bookshelf, the obvious tent in his pants indication that maybe he wanted this to happen too.

"Oh, she wanted it alright," Bodhi huffs, grabbing your pants and roughly yanking them down your legs. He shucks your boots off, tossing them over his shoulder before ripping your pants over your feet. "Caught her playing with herself all alone in here."

Liam tsks, flanking the other side of the table as he watches in faux-disappointment. Had they all arranged this? Had they known you'd be in here?

"I-I..."

"Keep your mouth shut," Bodhi demands, yanking his own pants down just enough for his enormous erection to spring free. Your mouth waters at the sight; you'd forgotten how damn big he was.

"You're gonna work off this little violation, alright?" He hcuckles, pulling you to the edge of the table so just your ass hung off the wood. His hand wraps aorund his cock, pumping it twice before sliding it against your soaking folds. You whimper, and he glares down at you.

"And... you'll be quiet if I say so, alright?" He chuckles, pressing the tip of his dick against your hole. "This is, after all, a library."

The sound threatening to erupt as he slides all the way in can only be described as nothing short of a deafening scream. He pushes himself all the way in, his pelvis flat against your thighs as you try and keep your noises at bay. Wasting no time, he yanks his cock out, only to slam back in with so much force that a small wail breaks free.

"Fuck... tight as fuck Y/N," he comments, speeding up as he fucks himself into you. "Squeezing my goddamned dick, baby."

You moan, the sound mixed with the creaking of the table beneath you. Bodhi's breaths come out in short pants above you, his gaze locked onto where his thick length is pounding into you.

"I... oh Gods," you cry out, your heaed turning to the side as you catch sight of Liam beside you. His tongue rakes across his bottom lip, his own cock hardening beneath his palm. The sight alone could make you cum, especially with the way Bodhi is pounding into you-

"Don't you dare cum," he growls, his hands bracing against your hips as he shoves you closer to him. Your gaze switches back to him as he leans over you, each stroke faster than the last as he barely pulls out anymore. "You're not cumming... not fucking yet."

You whimper as his mouth falls open above you, his eyes half-lidded as his thrusts grow sloppy. Your own impending orgasm has built up, threatening to burst any moment inside of you.

"B-Bodhi-"

"Fuck!' He shouts, your skin flush against his as he releases inside of you. His breathing is heavy, his chest moving rapidly underneath the restraint of his zipped flight jacket. Your face twists in frustration, the heat in your lower tummy already receding as he yanks his cock out of you.

Sitting up on your hands, you only catch your breath for a minute before Liam saunters toward you, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His hands grip your knees, forcing your legs apart as you try and squeeze them together.

"You're not getting off that easy tonight -- I hope you've realized that."

You stare up at the gorgeous male, a dark, starved look crossing his features as he peers down at you. Your chest heaves as he slowly sits before you, only taking perch on the edge of the chair.

Goosebumps erupt across your skin as he leans forward, his lips mere inches from your glistening cunt -- and blows a stream of cool air across your skin. You clench around nothing, the sensation both extremely erotic and frustrating at the same time.

"Liam, please-"

"Ahh ahh," Bodhi tuts, leaning agaist a nearby table. "I said no mouthing off tonight, remember?"

Liam's dimple pops as he smiles, his handsome features only maknig you wish your cunt was pressed against his lips. He licks his lips once, his fingers softly trailing along the skin of your thighs. You whimper as he continues toying with you, barely able to keep your writhing at bay.

"Is this... what you want?" He says quietly, as his forefinger presses against your clit. You gasp, sitting up on your forearms to look down at his smug expression.

"Yes... oh Gods, please yes-" You grit out, as his digit slowly circles your clit. You squirm against the touch, wishing for more as he slides his finger around your sensitive bud.

"This isn't about you, though." He says, chuckling as he retracts his finger. He glances up at you before rising between your legs, his hands gripping your waist to flip you over onto your stomach. You gasp as your chest presses against the flat wood, and your stomach drops at the sight before you.

Ridoc stands on the other side of the table, his hand fisting his cock furiously as he gazes down at you.

"Open."

It's all you need to hear before widening your mouth, laying your tongue out flat just like he'd like it.

"Fuck... been waiting for this for damn near a week," he complains, slapping his length against your wet muscle. You squeak in pleasure as you feel Liam behind you, his fingers circling your pulsating opening.

"So wet, baby," he coos, as his ring and middle finger plunge into your aching pussy. He plunges them in, again and again-- the embarassing squelch of your vagina gripping his digits bringing a flush to your cheeks.

Ridoc's free hand caresses your chin, guiding his hard length to your awaiting mouth. You suck in a breath as he sinks his cock in, pushing it to the back of your throat as he groans. Gagging around him, he retracts, shoving back in moments later.

"Gods, Y/N -- you've been saving up for us, hm?" You hear the grin in Liam's voice, your cunt pulsating as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. Unable to speak as Ridoc continues fucking your mouth, you only groan in response.

Liam curls his fingers, the tips rubbing against the sensitive spot inside -- you feel as though you'll explode. You huff out a breath, tears forming in your eyes as Ridoc continues assaulting your throat. The combined sensations are too much, your orgasm building with each minstration.

"It's a good thing you're so sexy," he laughs, patting you on the cheek with his free hand. "You've been on my mind all week, baby."

Liam retracts his fingers, and you cry out in frustration. Ridoc pulls out too, the emptiness on either end leaving you hot, bothered, and again, unreleased.

"Don't worry," Ridoc chuckles. "We still have more we want from you."

He appears on the opposite side of the table, standing where Liam just was, his open palm landing a harsh slap against the meat of your ass. You whine, only wishing he'd pleasure you more.

You don't have to beg much.

His hands clench around your hips, drawing you up onto your knees and forearms on the table. You wail again as he spanks you, clenching only when you feel his erection slapping against your cunt.

"You want me, huh?" He teases, landing another slap when you don't respond. "You want me to fuck you?"

You scream in pleasure, glancing behind you to watch as he slides his cock in.

"Yes, please Ridoc! Please fuck me-"

Your words are cut short as a hand wraps around your throat, yanking your head up to look before you. Liam chuckles, his hands quickly fisting your hand as he stands beside Bodhi -- who's guiding his cock to your lips.

"I told you," he grumbles. "Bad girls... have to be quiet."

He shoves his length in, choking you as he pushes down your throat. Liam pulls your hair, keeping your mouth in place as Bodhi fucks his dick down your raw throat. Ridoc pants from behind you, his girth reaching unimaginable depths inside your quaking pussy.

"You like that, huh?" Bodhi shakes his head, plunging his cock deeper in your mouth. "Like taking my cock while Ridoc fucks you?"

Another wave of pleasure racks your bones, the feeling of their dicks in two of your holes almost more than you can take. You gurgle around Bodhi's length as Ridoc's balls slap against your clit, heightening your senses even more.

"Can't... can't take much more," you garble out, and Liam's fingers pinch your nipple.

"You'll take, what we give you."

You squeak, tears threatening to spill over as you try your hardest to keep your orgasm at bay. Your walls clench around Ridoc's big cock, each thrust pushing you closer, and closer...

He cums with a gasp, hot ropes of his semen splattering across your ass. He heaves as he squeezes your right buttcheek, his spent cock resting against the other. Bodhi grits his teeth before releasing as well, his seed spraying down your throat. He yanks his cock out, and Liam moves to hold your jaw as you cough.

"Swallow it all," he commands, and you do as your told. Bodhi retreats, resting lazily in a chair as the aftermath of his orgasm washes over him.

If only you could feel the same.

You gulp down his salty-sweet taste, your muscles growing tired after your night of pleasure. Well... as much pleasure as you were allowed, orgasm-denial and all.

Liam pulls you off the table, holding you upright as he slowly backs you into one of the shadowed bookshelves. You groan again as he kneels before you, Bodhi and Ridoc flanking your either side.

"We've had our fun with you... do you think you deserve to cum?"

You shake your head at his sultry words, and he doesn't even look away from your glistening pussy as he speaks to the other two.

"Do you think she deserves to cum?"

Bodhi tuts while reaching for your chest, openly palming your left breast.

“I suppose she’s been quite good for us tonight.”

Liam nods in agreement, his lips pressing a single kiss against your folds. Your hips involuntarily buck in protect, a short moan coming out as Ridoc rolls your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Shhhh.. patience, baby.”

His voice alone could get you off, such contrast to his usually irritating tone.

Liam’s tongue flicks out, swiping across your cunt as he rolls his thumb over your clit. You squirm, your breaths coming out in quick bursts.

“L-Liam I… won’t last long-“

He chuckles, the vibration edging you further. Ridoc replaces his fingers with his mouth, leaning in to suck and mark your right breast with his teeth. You lean your head back, the feeling of ecstasy finally within reach.

“You wanna cum, Y/N?” Bodhi’s breath skates across your skin, goosebumps arising just below your ear as he squeezes your breast partially hard.

“Such a little tease with these gorgeous things,” he continues, and you begin shaking, the feeling of the orgasm within reach.

“Oh FUCK, I’m-“

Ridoc’s hand claps over your mouth as Bodhi holds you upright. You tremble and shake atop Liam’s tongue, the pent up energy from all night finally reaching its sweet release. His hands reach around and squeeze your ass, holding you in place as you cum on his mouth.

“Anybody in here?”

Your eyes widen, heartbeat quickening as you hear the male voice ring out through the otherwise empty library. Your eyes meet Bodhi’s, and he holds a single finger to his lips.

“Hello?”

The voice calls again, and the three of you stand in silence against the darkness from the shelves. After a few minutes, the entry door opens and closes once more, and you finally loose a breath.

“Well… that was close,” you laugh, the first real sentence you’d uttered in hours. Surely the sunlight would be peeking through the windows anytime now…

You step toward your discarded clothes, making to grab them and put them on when a strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you tightly against a very bare, very toned chest.

“Oh come on — you didn’t think we were actually finished here, did you?”

[theyluvpeach]

chasing you.

you avoid him. he catches you. dealer!reader x client!chris blurb <3

He's starting to think he's the problem. Those are words Chris never thought would form in his brain—But here he is, trying to figure out why hasn't seen you all week.

It doesn't make any sense. You're always around campus, yet when he's actively looking for you, you're nowhere to be seen. Chris doesn't even want to talk to you. He just wants to give you your shit back so Matt will stop bothering him about it.

Even though he's your friend—And he was the one to even invite you to the party in the first place—He has to return your heels cause apparently, Matt has better shit to do then chase you around all day.

He's been all around campus looking for you. If you're not at the campus cafe, he's gonna launch your heels at Matt's head.

Matt is so lucky you're here.

You're in the corner at a booth with tons of books and your computer in front of you. You're not your usual neon colored self. There's no star clips in your hair. You don't have on an overly tight top. No flared jeans. You're unrecognizable.

He can see the fear settle in your eyes as he walks up to you. So, you were avoiding him.

"Chris." The tension in your voice is quite frankly, insane. That night, after leaving you in his room, all he did was talk to Matt about what to do with you and then passed out on the couch after the party was over. What could he have done in that time?

"Kid, I know you were shitfaced last week, but I can't believe you forgot all about your stuff." You blink at him multiple times. "What?"

He shoves your heels and tights that are stuffed in them to you, "Y'know? All this?"

You slowly take them, your face lighting up. "Oh... Oh!"

"Huh?" He's confused. You were all gloomy just a second ago, and now you look like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Mh....I thought we fucked, if I'm being completely honest." He watches you tuck your heels away into your bag. "This reminded me we didn't, thanks."

Chris, for once in his life, is speechless. You were avoiding him because you thought you guys fucked. Honestly, he'll take this over you being all over Aiden. He wonders if you remember that... he's not gonna bring it up.

Huh. This is probably how the girls he sleeps with feel after they wake up alone in the morning.

"Nah, I don' fuck my brothers friends." You tilt your head at him, annoyingly, and raise your eyebrow. "Michelle."

"Doesn't count."

"Brittany."

"Also doesn't count."

"Vivi—"

"You friends with all the girls I fuck or somethin'?" You laugh, loudly. Bringing attention to yourself, but you don't care. You're definitely back to your usual self. "Some of them. They're wondering why I'm hanging around Mr. Community Dick."

Chris rolls his eyes. "Matt deserves that title."

"Eh, you guys are tied." You smile at him. And he gets that feeling in his chest again. The one that makes him feel like he's dying. When you start looking at him like he's crazy makes him remember that you guys are having a conversation and process that's he's staring at you.

He awkwardly coughs. "Whatcha' got all these books for anyway?" You groan, resting your forehead on the table. "Ecology."

He blinks.

"Plants." You sit up, resting your head in your hands, "Its the study of how living organisms interact with their physical environment—"

"We get it. You're smart. Trust."

"Well—" You flush at the compliment. Maybe not pissing you off gets him places. "That's just the definition!"

He eyes the stacks of books at your table. "You got a test, or are you just a nerd?"

You scoff. "I'm not a nerd. We have a test, and since my teacher writes questions like she hasn't talked to a human being in years, I'm doing some light reading."

"Light reading?" He teases. "Whatever." He checks his phone as you roll your eyes, well shit.

He spent way more time talking to you than he thought he would. He's gonna be late to the class he promised Nate he'd go to for the first time in forever.

"Gotta go," He says, beginning to walk backward towards the exit, "Don't drink so much next time, alright, kid? Not tryna chase you around again."

"I would've remembered eventually!"

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizzzsstuff @sosasturns @drewswife

[lieslab]

The warmth in me is you

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Changbin X gn reader

Summary: Your boyfriend decides to wake you up in the coldest way possible.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I'm sorry for not updating a ton lately. I took some time off of writing because I just finished writing my full-length Hyunjin fic a few days ago. This one is shorter, but I'm going to go back to writing a little longer stuff and your requests soon <3

_ _ _

Hyunjin disappeared two nights ago. Booking a trip to another country for a brand deal, Changbin had the dorm alone. At least, he did until he invited you over to spend the weekend with him. 

In the comfort of his room, the tranquility of the fan humming on low. He couldn’t sleep without the white noise. You hated the cold, but you put up with it for him and for him alone. When he pushed the blankets aside, you dove in head first. 

Tucking yourself beneath the tangled warmth, you basked in his presence; the scent of spiced herbs and something alluding to pine. After balling yourself into the blankets and scooting to get comfortable, you’d curl up next to his body. He’d grumble about your warmth, but you’d shush him. Insisting he enjoyed your sudden presence, he’d huff and roll his eyes, but he did. 

He wouldn’t admit it. He put up this fake act for far too long. On the outside, it looked like he wasn’t thrilled about your presence, but you knew he loved it deep down. Why else would he wrap his arm around your body and pull you closer? Warm or not, he loved the evenings just as much as you did. 

Before eight in the morning, he left you alone. Without his body, you tossed and turned in the bed. Your arms outstretched and your limbs spread in every direction. Whether it was on your stomach and turned diagonal on the king-sized bed or upside down, your body changed directions all the time. Unaware and sound asleep, your limbs had a mind of their own. 

Outside, winter weather clouded the skies. Today? A chance of flurries. You complained about it last night during the winter storm. Hours slipped by and as they did, more and more snow built up outside. 

A blanket of white covered the dead grass. Silent and large flakes drifted. The added gusts of wind sent it in every direction. People tucked in the safety of their vehicles struggled to see. Forecasters sent out warnings. Your phone vibrated every so often with new announcements. 

The entire time, you complained. The freezing cold air, dry nasal cavities, the chapped lips, you hated all of it. Winter wonderland left you grumpy and unhappy. Changbin tried to get you to enjoy bits and pieces of it, but it didn’t really work. 

Your hands and feet grew sensitive to the temperature as you aged. As silly as it sounded, you swore your body aged faster than others. In such cold weather, your joints ached and your back hurt. No matter how many layers you bundled up in, you couldn’t stay warm. Most days, you avoided the outdoors and wicked weather when you could. 

Changbin, on the other hand, found nostalgia in snow. It reminded him of being a kid again. Back when his mom forced him into a snowsuit, thick gloves, a protective hat, and a scarf. He chased after his older sister, nearly falling over the thick insulated neon pants built into his snowsuit. 

When he fell victim to his snow boots and tripped, he hit the snow hard.  Face first, he’d jerk upright with red cheeks and wide eyes. Snow dusted his eyebrows and clung to his eyelashes. His sister pointed and laughed. In the distance, his mother would tell him to get up and brush off the snow. Amusement laced her voice and she could never stop herself from pulling out the digital camera to capture the moments. 

Those memories sat back at home. Perched on his mother’s bookshelf, leather bound album-after-album sat with photos of the family. From elementary school days to high school graduation and beyond, his mother took photos of everything. 

Changbin disappeared outside to peek at the snow. It took him a few moments to shove open the front door. Last night, the wind pushed a large snow drift against it. When he pushed open the door, he gasped at all the snow before him. 

Clad in a black t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, a hand flew to his mouth. His head jerked back to the hall, the direction of his bedroom where you slept. His eyes went back to the snow. Part of him wanted to keep the peace, but mischief bumped at his hip. 

He finally slowly shut the door and worked quickly. He grabbed his winter boots and yours. Back in the bedroom, he wiggled your sleeping form into your winter boots and squirmed into his own. When you jerked awake, no doubt you’d be pissed off, but he couldn’t help it. 

You looked so cute when you grew upset. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips poked out. Your glare would be as cold as the winter weather, but he’d manage. Your forgiveness could be swayed with warm cuddles and soup. 

Sound asleep, you remained unaware of the icy horror awaiting you. As quietly as he could, Changbin scooped his burly arms beneath your warm body. Further and further, he took you from your warmth and headed outside. 

In the safety of the white weather, he stepped from the dorm, walked a few feet outside, picked the largest snowbank, and let go of your body. A cheesy grin filled his face, he held his breath, and then- 

“AH!” 

You shrieked and jerked upright. Cold snow soaked your pants and your t-shirt. Your legs kicked and your arms scrambled. Snow sat in every direction. Changbin’s mischievous giggle filled your ears from behind. 

Soaking through your skin, the cold weather hit your bones instantly. You scrambled to get up, arms flinging in every direction. The stinging snow painted you freezing. Your body jerked upright and you pushed yourself to unsteady feet. 

“Seo Changbin!” 

“Uh-oh.” 

“I’m going to kill you!” 

“Nuh-uh! You love me too much for that.” He cooed and pressed his thumb and index finger into a heart. Desperate aeygo shot your way, but it did nothing to settle the anger building in your bones. His cheeks poked out, his finger pressed against the side of his face. As cringy as it was, it softened your heart, but not today. 

His cuteness ended with a handful of splattered snow to his face. Between the sudden silence and shock, more laughter filled the air. He cried out and pawed at his face. The past and present collided. The difference between fifteen years flicked between boyhood and growing into a man. 

“That was mean!” 

“You started it!” 

He grabbed a fist full of snow and whirled it your way. You shrieked and dodged, falling into another pile of snow in the process. The quiet morning shattered with bickering and cries from cold snow. 

When the two of you finished antagonizing one another five minutes later, you couldn’t breathe. Your lungs ached and compressed from the cold. The warmth of your skin faded. Bright red discoloration smeared along your cheeks and the tip of your nose. Across from you, Changbin’s face matched. 

“I-” You sucked in a deep breath. “I give up. It’s t-too cold to continue and I-” 

“I can’t feel my fingers.” 

“Me neither.” 

“Let’s go!” He hurried over, grabbed your waist, and hauled you over his shoulders. You shrieked and he giggled again. No matter the time or the place, he loved to show off. 

Picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder with ease, it was his favorite thing to do. Showing off his strength felt so special to him. Not everyone could carry their significant other with ease. Usually, you’d beg for him to put you down, but today you didn’t. 

Your body fell over his shoulder, limp and defeated. The cold air frosts your lungs. Puffs of warm air drifted into the sky and blended into the snow. 

Back inside, he stomped his feet on the inside rug. Chunks of snow fell off his boots. As he kicked off his, you shoved your feet together and kicked yours off, too. Your boots hit the ground and bounced in two different directions. Once they were off, your head slumped over his shoulder. 

“I’m never going to be warm again,” you mumbled. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Binnie’s got you, don’t worry. We’re going to go take a hot shower. When we’re finished, I’ll make you hot chocolate.” 

“Can I cuddle you?” 

“If it’ll make you feel better, yeah.” 

“I’m going to crawl into your muscles and live there forever.” 

“Do not.” 

“You can’t stop me.” 

“I’ll throw you in the snow again.” 

“Seo Changbin!” 

“Hey, don’t test me!” 

The two of you bickered all the way to the shower; despite the freezing cold feeling lacing your body, he still made your heart feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght

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Ko-fi

[hoonieyun]

a lovesick girl's guide to heartbreak

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ fwb!jake x reader i start fights cause i wanna makeup... summary: although you specified with jake that you were only looking for a fwb, you just love getting a kick out of pushing his buttons. after all, as much as you like starting fights with him, you like making up with him after even more.

warnings: kissing, drinking and playing beer pong, jake and yn are not good people, i'm not sure the term but they use other people to get back at one another, suggestive, consensual skinship, possessive!jake, jake slightly chokes yn but its consensual!! bratty!reader ,18+ wc: 3729

hoonieyun notes: this is probably the spiciest one out of this series but no smut because i can't bring myself to write it so everything is quite suggestive lol

you’re getting ready to go to a party when a text on your phone catches your attention. setting down your lipstick and reaching for your phone, a smile appears on your lips as you read the text in your head. 

from: jaeyun  need me to pick you up baby?

the text reads and you’re smirking to yourself knowing that you’ve got something up your sleeve. jake has gotten on your nerves lately because although the two of you weren’t exclusive, you were each other’s exclusive friends with benefits, meaning you two would only be seeing each other but not dating. 

however, he loves to act like you’re just some girl when the two of you are in public, ignoring your advances and doing his best to act like he isn’t smitten with you after spending the weekend at your apartment, cuddling you in his sleep and making you breakfast in the morning. 

sure, it was nice to have a warm body next to you when you slept at night but you were beginning to think that jake was becoming more than somebody you wanted to fuck around with and could see a life with him as your boyfriend, the only thing was you weren’t sure if he felt the same way. 

he always acted differently from the jaeyun that you knew in your bedroom and the jake that you knew when it came to being around your friends and in public. you wouldn’t necessarily say he was ashamed to be with you but more often than not it felt like he was hiding this relationship the two of you had like it was something to be ashamed of. 

you decide not to respond and set your phone back down to finish the last of your makeup but another text rings once again. you go to look at your phone to see another text from jake, this time he’s being less sweet and more assertive with you. 

from:  jaeyun alright, i’ll see you at the party i guess

you roll your eyes in annoyance at the fact that he was being so passive aggressive but you couldn’t blame him because you were being just as passive aggressive and even more with what you had planned for the night. another text appears on your phone but its from a different person this time, now a smile on your face that wasn’t partnered with mischievous. 

from: myungjae :3  hi cutie, i’m outside. take your time, ok?” 

myungjae was your plan for the night. if jake wasn’t going to flaunt you around like somebody he was proud to have on his arm, you’ll find somebody that would and you did. myungjae was a guy you had met at jake’s soccer game. he had come up to you before the game when you were at a vending machine and you learned that he was a player at your university’s rival team. you texted occasionally and myungjae wasn’t shy to show you how much he wanted to take you out on a date. 

out of respect for jake, you always politely declined myungjae’s advances but as of lately, jake’s behavior has pissed you off so much that you didn’t care anymore that you yourself asked myungjae out on a date; to which he enthusiastically accepts. 

a part of you did feel bad that you were using him to get back at jake but at the end of the day, it’s all fun and games, right? 

you quickly spritz perfume onto your exposed clavicle and admire yourself in your mirror one last time before heading outside to meet myungjae. flipping your hair over your shoulder and thinking about how killer you looked tonight, knowing how you could have any guy crawling after you tonight. 

when you exit your apartment, you see myungjae outside leaning on the hood of his car as he waits for you, you smile and do a slight jog to get to him, trying to make sure you don’t fall over in your heels. “hi, myungjae.” you say in a sickly and sweet voice. 

“hi, cutie.” he says, smiling down at your pretty face, taking in your features and overall demeanor, he doesn’t even notice he’s checking you out until you playfully slap his chest. “keep it in your pants, mister.” you taunt and he rolls his eyes with a smirk knowing that you know how much of an effect you have on him. you place a small kiss on his cheek before he opens the door for you and grabs your hand to help you in. you watch as myungjae runs around the car to get to the driver’s side, sliding into his seat and making your way to the party– his hand on your exposed thigh the whole drive. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

when you get to the party, myungjae doesn’t leave your side at all, one of his arms is constantly draped around your shoulder or waist, or his soft hands gently wrapped around yours. it was a party by someone at your university so he only knew a few people aside from you. he follows you as you make your rounds throughout the party like he was a lost puppy and you had given him a sliver of attention that he craved. 

 you introduce myungjae to a lot of your friends and find your way to the kitchen where you fix the two of you a drink, a concoction inside of a red solo cup of whatever looked good and a cold glass of beer of myungjae, explaining that he’ll only have one bottle because he wants to be sober to ensure he gets you home safely. you found him so cute, pinching his cheek, if your brain wasn’t so tainted with the idea of jake you probably would’ve chosen myungjae a long time ago but jake was just constantly running on your mind no matter how badly or well he treated you in and outside of your bedroom. 

as jake enters the kitchen, his steps slow down when he sees you handing myungjae his beer, clearing his throat to get both of your attention. 

“yn, nice to see you.” he says, anger clearly in his eyes. 

“hi, jaeyun.” you say, using the name he said was specifically reserved for you. 

“have you met myungjae? he plays for the bonedo soccer team.” you ask even though all three of you know the answer to that as jake and myungjae are known to have quite the rivalry. “sup, man.” myungjae says, raising his glass to jake and jake just nods in response before stomping over to the fridge to get a beer of his own. 

“have fun.” you say as he leaves the kitchen, knowing that you were not beginning to get under his skin just by showing up with not only another man, but also a man that he didn’t like. “you guys good?” myungjae asks and you turn to him with a bright smile and nod, “mhmm, don’t worry your pretty head.” you say, toasting your cup with his bottle and taking a sip of your drink, smirking to yourself once again now that your plan for the night has begun. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you’re dancing with myungjae when you glance over to a corner of the room and see that jake was sitting on the couch with yunjin in his lap, twirling her hair while jake stared at her lips. you couldn’t believe it, jake was trying to play the same game as you by getting with a girl that you didn't like. you always voiced to jake how much you didn’t like yunjin because you felt like she was always competing with you for things that didn’t matter like when she got chosen for an internship over you and told everyone it was because she was smarter than you when in reality it was because the ceo of that tech company was her godfather. 

jake suddenly catches your gaze and smiles at you as if he was saying, “two can play at that game.” and you know what, two can certainly play that game so to piss jake off even more, you switch your position from facing myungjae with your hands around his shoulder to having your backside to his front, moving his hands to your waist instead as the music picks up and your bodies begin to move in unison. 

if anyone saw the two of you right now they would probably mistake you and myungjae as a couple and knowing that people were perceiving you that way only angered jake further because although he would act like he didn’t know you in public, he was the only would that should be touching you in that way. 

when you revert your gaze back to jake you see that he’s angrily storming out of the room, leaving yunjin with an annoyed expression as she’s left alone on the couch also watching jake leave the room. 

yn: 2 jake: 1 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the next time you see jake, he’s with chaewon in the kitchen, his hand fiddling with the hem of her crop top, a longing gaze in her eyes as she watches jake who you knew wouldn’t return the same expression because he would only look at you that way. 

you and myungjae make your way back inside of the kitchen to fix yourself another drink, ignoring jake and chaewon because you didn’t want to give them the attention jake wanted from you so bad. you bring your cup to myungjae’s lips as you offer him a sip and he takes a small sip because he just can’t resist the look in your eyes. 

jake on the other hand is tightening his jaw and is gripping his cup so hard that it constricts, causing the liquid on the inside to splash onto him and chaewon, “what the fuck?” she exclaims, causing you and myungjae to look over at them. you see chaewon swipe her hands in annoyance to get rid of the beer on her skin and jake apologetically follows her out of the kitchen as she storms out. you roll your eyes and shake your head knowing that jake couldn’t beat you in your own game. 

no matter how hard he tries to get under your skin, you were already deep under there. 

yn: 3 jake: 2 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you soon find yourself competing against jake and chaewon in a game of beer pong with myungjae. you were surprised he was very good which you knew only made jake angrier as he wasn’t the best at the game. you had even warned jake that he should probably find another couple to play against, boasting about myungjae’s abilities without knowing if your bluffs were true. 

the sound of you calling yourself and myungjae a “couple” sets him and causes him to start the game before you even accept his challenge– and with just a few tosses, you and myungjae have only lost one cup while jake and chaewon had lost all but one cup. 

it was myungjae’s turn to toss the ball and for good luck, he asks you to blow on the ball and you oblige. blowing on to it with puckered lips and an unbreaking gaze with myungjae. jake is gripping the edge of the table as he watches the two of you, chaewon standing off to the side disinterested in any of this as she’s noticed that jake was more focused on trying to win you over and competing with myungjae than he was interested in her. at some point she ends up leaving after she receives a text from yunjin saying that jake ghosted her at the party so she leaves without notice and jake definitely doesn’t notice her absence. 

when myungjae skillfully tosses the ping pong ball towards the cup, it goes right in, earning cheers from everyone watching and most importantly, you. you’re jumping up and down while clapping, proud that myungjae has successfully won you the beer pong game and to reward him you’re about to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss but you’re suddenly dragged away when jake grabs onto your wrist and pulls you outside into the front yard. 

“let me go, jake!” you yell, trying to free your hand but his grip on you is relentless and there was no way you were freeing yourself. 

“are you done?” he asks and you look at him with an expression that reads like you had no idea what he was talking about. jake inches closer, his nose almost touching yours as he looks down into your eyes with so much fury in his eyes at the stunt you had pulled tonight. you looked up at him with an arrogant gaze knowing that your plan was successful, flashing him a smile like you were so innocent in all of this, jake can’t help but smirk at you; wiping his face with aggravation. 

“yn, are you ok?” myungjae says from behind as he stands at the door. 

before you could even respond, jake flashes his middle finger at the poor guy and drags you to his car, leaving myungjae behind without an explanation; a noticeable pout on his lips as he watches you willingly leave with jake and get inside of his car. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the drive to jake’s apartment was quiet, his jawline more prominent than usual as he’s constantly flexing his jaw in annoyance, trying to think of what he wanted to say to you but all he had in his head was how he was going to make you beg after being so bratty all night. 

the grip he had on your thigh was a lot different than the one myungjae has on you hours before, jake squeezing your thigh with so much force that when he let go as you arrived at his apartment, there was a visible print on your skin. 

“get inside.” he says and you know not to disobey him further, a smile on your face as you think about all of your efforts tonight being successful and how this was the result that you wanted. sure it was wrong to start a fight with jake all because you wanted to but at the end of the day, it was his fault for acting like he didn’t crave your touch every night. 

it may be wrong to like to start fights but it was all because you enjoyed making up after a lot more. 

when you enter jake’s apartment, he’s right on your heel, shutting his door behind you and pressing you against the door, his hand wrapping around your neck. “you wanna act like a brat?” he taunts, eyes scanning your face and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find jake’s behavior attractive. you decide to stay silent to push his buttons even more as he hates being ignored. 

“hmph, i’ll make you regret acting like that.” he whispers into your ear, his lips lightly grazing your ear as he hauls you over his shoulder and takes you to his bedroom. you try to fight him off, squirming around but it is to no avail as his strong grip around you prevents you from moving around too much. 

you were starting to think that this was all a bad idea but you couldn’t help but crave the way jake treats you whenever you act this way. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

after several hours of releasing tension, anger, and frustration; you and jake are laying on his bed, out of breath and staring into his ceiling. the blankets are covering the two of you and you’re laying in silence after everything that just happened. you got what you wanted and so did jake even if he was furious with you just a few hours ago. 

“you still being bratty?” he says with a cocky smirk and you just roll your eyes at him as you sit up, bringing the blanket up further to cover yourself. “jake i wouldn’t be acting like this if you treated me the way i deserve to be treated.” you say and the harsh truth hits jake in a way that he didn’t expect. 

he thought you were only acting like that because you wanted his attention but not because you were genuinely bothered by his behavior, “what are you even talking about?” jake says, turning towards you and propping up his arm with his elbow and resting his head into his hand. 

“jake, you practically act like i don’t exist when we’re in public or with our friends.” you explain and jake huffs as if he was exhausted from this conversation already. 

“we’re not even dating?” he says and now it was your turn to be furious with him. “that’s not the point, jake! you act like i don’t exist, you ignore me, and you act like you’re ashamed to be seen with me but once the sun sets you’re texting me to have me sleep in your bed. 

how is that supposed to make me feel? i know we’re friends with benefits but the first word of that arrangement is ‘friend’ and you haven’t treated me like one.!” you shout and jake was getting up to get dressed, avoiding your gaze. 

“oh and bringing myungjae’s ass to the party, were you being a good friend? you know i don’t like his ass!” he retorts and you’re standing up in aggravation because jake was not getting the point, “that doesn’t matter!” you try to yell back and he interrupts you, “yes it fucking does! you know i don’t like him and you still brought him to piss me off, why!” he shouts and jake has never raised his voice at you like this before. the two of you getting caught in a screaming match like no other as you both shout at the top of your lungs at one another. 

“because i like you and i wanted to be with someone that liked me the way i like him but the whole time you were the only one on my mind, ok!” you shout, finally confessing to jake that you’ve developed feelings for him despite that being the golden rule of your arrangement. 

never catch feelings. 

jake wipes his face with a heavy sigh and you’re plopping back down onto the mattress after getting so worked up you found yourself standing on top of his bed, the blanket barely clinging onto you. 

“what?” jake mutters. 

“i like you, ok? i have for a while and it pisses me off that you act like i’m just some girl when we spend almost every night in each others arms, you hold me at night like you never want to let me go but when morning hits sometimes you’re gone before the birds even begin to chirp. 

you make me feel things i know i’m not supposed to feel and it hurts, ok?” your chest is rising up and down as you finally let out your feelings and jake is looking at you like you’ve just told him your deepest and darkest secret. 

“thats… no! you can’t like me, i’m not good for you!” he explains and you’re looking at him like none of the words that leave his mouth make any sense. 

“you’re too good to me, you’re so sweet and kind and treat me like i’m the only thing that matters in your life even when i’ve been so shitty to you. even right now! i’ve been shitty to you and you’re professing your love to me and i don’t deserve it. i don’t deserve you!

you deserve better and i’m not that.” jake responds and you’re fighting off the tears pooling in your lashes. 

“you don’t get to decide what i deserve..” you whisper and you’re staring at one another in silence. 

jake is weighing the option in his head. he loved you so fucking bad, probably even more than you loved and his actions tonight showed that with how bad he fought for you despite you constantly choosing myungjae over him. if jake was being honest, he fell for you fairly quickly when he spent the night one weekend and gave him face masks to put on because you had made a comment on how dry his skin was. it was that small gesture that made him fall for you and everyday after he fell deeper and deeper. 

jake was terrible for you and he knew that and although he wanted to be selfish and keep you all to himself, he knew that your life would only be miserable if you stayed with him. that’s why he started avoiding you and slowly distancing himself in hopes that it would just drive you away but it only drove him closer to you because he hated seeing another man touch what was his. 

“no.” was all jake says and you didn’t need any further explanation. you’re jumping out of his bed and shoving past him to put your clothes back on and jake instantly regrets this, trying to get you to stay but it seems that jake has made up your mind for you by not rejecting you but dictating what you deserved; and it wasn’t him. 

“wait- don’t leave, come on.” he begs and you’re shaking your head and wiping your tears away, angry that you were crying over a man who didn’t even spare your feelings after you had just confessed to him. 

when jake tries to grab onto your arm to stop you from leaving, you’re quick to snatch your arm away and leave his room, standing at the door to listen to the last of his pleas, begging you to stay and explaining that you are meant to be and that jake didn’t mean what he said but it was all too late. you could tell he was just backtracking because he was scared of losing you and although you felt the same way and wanted nothing more to run back to him; you left jake in the darkness of his bedroom without another glance. 

deciding that you do deserve better even if the realization came from a heartbreaking experience, the revelation a result of having to lose someone you once held so close to your heart. 

"makeup" slayyyter x lolo zouai the usage of song lyrics is credited to the artists above

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

heart not broken enough? let's try again... ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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[osxmui]

‘ life can be cruel , if you’re not a dreamer . ’

summary : you start your first day at the cafe, and learn of a certain bandaged barista, unknowingly kidnap his cat, but it was somewhat worth it when he and another barista come over to the cafe the next day searching for his ‘beloved’ cat and thinks that one of your friends stole it as revenge.

AUTHORS NOTE : hai !! first chapter is done, and i had so much fun writing this. unfortunately, i did struggle at some parts, like the rent thing and had no idea what to do for the plot😭 so, let’s all just act like its a good excuse and its just for the plot !! and characters might be ooc, and unfortunately for everyone, i highkey dgaf and this is for fun so if u come in my ask box to say “omg this is so ooc!!” YES I KNOW GET OUT OF MY ASKS I KNOW anyway if u do wanna be tagged in future updates, just lmk i will gladly tag you :3

GENERAL WARNINGS : reader is afab / fem, she/her pronouns will be used when needed. cussing (obviously), sometimes i will specify outfits but you can just imagine your outfit any other time lol , college stuff, substance abuse mention in other chapters, self harm mentions at times (dazai), dazais siblings r elise and yumeno, and oda, mori his dad.. the slowest slow burn of all of the slow burns, rare sex jokes because i can not resist, and just typical dazai behavior .. also, it has been awhile since i have written like this, so i might be bad at first so. um. ignore that.. + some time skips so we can get to the good part :) tried to speed this chapter up so we can get to the better part of the fic ! anyway, have fun reading!

you had set a routine for yourself once you left the comfort of your home for college; sleep, wake up at 5am to get ready, go to class at 6:30am, study after class, go to more classes, go back to your shared apartment around 4:30pm, relax a bit until 10:45, sleep, and repeat. you were not planning on changing that at all, until your landlord decided to up your rent, and you were forced to work with your friend, chuuya, who was working at a local cafe. originally, he had been paying the rent, and you paid the bills with money your parents gave to you as a little startup, and you could not pay rent with the money, and did bills until now.

you had felt bad for him once the rent raised, especially since the rent was now almost 1,950?? you possibly couldn’t let him pay by himself! so, you got a job at the cafe he worked at with your friend group.

and, you seriously regretted that after seeing how chaotic it was..

⌢ time : 4:30 pm . ⌣

you and chuuya were walking to the cafe after class. the heels of both of your shoes clicked against the pavement of the sidewalk, the sound of your voices quietly echoed through the air of the already loudness of the campus, other students chatting away and the sound of the occasional laugh registered in your mind.

“you’ll be fine, the cafe is a really nice place. you’ll do great, i’m sure.” chuuyas voice suddenly came through, breaking the momentarily silence you two shared for a bit.

you never really worked in a cafe. a fast food place? sure. but a cafe was new, but you knew everything since your mother owned a cafe, and you sometimes came over and watched her work. but this was new, you are ACTUALLY working at one, and doing all the things you saw your mother do.

“i know i’ll do fine, it’s just new, y’know?” you reply to him, but you were grateful for his assurances either way. a small hum left him after you spoke, and you could feel him offer you a small look. “just don’t stress about it, yeah? if you need anything, i can help you.”

after alot of talking, you two had started walking out of campus grounds and walked down the sidewalk towards the cafe, and you could see the little building in the distance after a few minutes of walking.

⌢ time : 5:39 pm . ⌣

luckily, there weren’t any customers since apparently, customers rarely came in at this time unless it was game day for the college, and then the cafe was packed since it did have a tv where they could watch the game.

but that wasn’t all that important, you were just glad that you didn’t need to deal with ‘bitchy’ customers. chuuyas words, not yours.

you were in the middle of putting on your apron as your friends spoke, their voices overlapping the faint sound of music playing from the speakers.

“god, i hate those people. they constantly try to one-up us with their deals and purposefully got a bigger tv for game day. you know, one of those days, i’ll break that tv in front of them..” chuuya grumbled, his narrowed eyes focused on the cafe that was actually across the road. if it was not obvious that he hated the cafe across the street, then the look in his eyes was definitely an obvious sign.

“oh, calm down. it’s not like they do it on purpose.” higuchi spoke, rolling her eyes at his complaint while she wrote on some of the paper cups, something their cafe made them do to show that it was a welcoming spot or whatever the manger said. “oh, they definitely do it on purpose. have you seen how smug they looked when they got that tv? what bitches.” tachihara spoke up, standing next to chuuya as they both glared at the cafe across the street.

“aren’t you all being dramatic? it surely can’t be that bad.” you eventually spoke after getting your apron on and went to help higuchi, who gave a grateful look and continued. “she’s right, it’s not that bad, you’re all being dramatic.” higuchi agreed.

chuuya and tachihara glared at you and higuchi in sync, the two boys clearly judging you both. “you two have no idea what those idiots are like. even in class, they’re so bitchy. i am unfortunately cursed and have a class with the freaky bandaged one.” chuuya sighed, looking back at the cafe across the street.

you sighed, shaking your head at your best friends words. “you say that like it’s a bad thing, he might be nicer than you think.” you reply, trying to be optimistic since chuuya did have the habit of being a little dramatic with his opinions of people. “chuuyas right, the bandaged one or whatever his name is, is weird. dude looks like a mummy of sorts.” tachihara had spoken up, also looking back at the cafe.

chuuya immediately scowled once he saw some of the workers from the cafe across the street walking up to their own cafe, a few of them in a group as they started opening up their cafe.

you looked up and watched, examining the small group of people who seemed to go at the same college. there was a blonde man, a woman with dark hair that had her hair in a messy bob of sorts, a younger guy who looked to be a first year with white hair, one with brown hair and glasses, and another guy with brown hair that had bandages around him.

“what are their names?” you whisper to higuchi, not wanting to interrupt chuuya and tachiharas glaring. “hm? oh, the blonde is kunikida, the woman is yosano, the one with white hair is atsushi, the one with brown hair and glasses is ranpo, and the bandaged one that chuuya hates is dazai.” the blonde woman whispered back, to which you nodded in response.

“they seem nice, why is that they’re hated?” you ask again. you were confused, the group seemed genuinely nice, so you had no idea why most of your friends seemed to hate the cafe. “oh, chuuya got into a fight with dazai a few weeks ago and their cafe and ours seemed to have a war of sorts ever since.” she had whispered back, shrugging as she continued to write on cups.

ah, you had heard about that. chuuya had come back in the evening one night, and said he got into a fight with some ‘idiot from class that looks like hes cosplaying a mummy.’ .. you didn’t know why you didn’t realize that until now, but it made sense since chuuya had an obvious grudge.

⌢ time : 8:27 pm . ⌣

you and chuuya were now walking home after work, it had been a nice day, the cafe wasn’t that busy, and it was a good first day. now, you were walking home.

but, you stumbled upon a pretty, somewhat fluffy black cat, who seemed to be freezing in the low temperatures of the night. you were immediately going to help it as chuuya followed.

you looked back at chuuya as you sat on the pavement of the sidewalk, then at the cat and quickly took your jacket off. “what are you doing?” chuuya quickly asked as you slowly approached the cat, smiling at how the cat was snuggling up to your hand. “i’m not letting a cat freeze up in the cold. i would feel horrible if i left this poor thing in the cold.” you reply to him, slowly getting the cat to come closer.

the cat was the sweetest thing ever, you could hear small purrs come from it as you gently pet it, but you quickly wrapped it in your jacket and slowly picked it up, smiling at how it easily allowed it. the cat was obviously accustomed to humans, and trusted them easily, so it was pretty easy to pick it up.

“come on, we’re going to the store first and buying it some food until we figure out what to do with it.” you suddenly announced, already walking in the direction of the local store. chuuya sighed, already knowing he couldn’t stop you when you were determined and simply followed. “you’re insane. what are we going to do with a cat we found on the street? we can’t keep it!” he spoke, crossing his arms as he walked next to you.

“well, we’re not keeping it forever, dumbass! just until we figure out what to do with it or some missing pet poster pops up.” you remark back, a small huffy sigh left you as you continued your walk, and eventually made it to the store.

the two of you walked into the store, both of you offering polite smiles to the workers who greeted you both. you and chuuya walked to the pet aisle, and went to the shelf of cat food as you held the purring cat in your arms.

“do we get it wet food or?” chuuya whispered to you, you shrugged and just decided to go with wet food and dry food. you were sure wet food was the answer, but you wanted to be safe and not buy something the cat wouldn’t eat. “get both, just in case, y’know?”

chuuya hummed in response, grabbing a small can of wet food and a small bag of dry food before you two walked to the shelf checkout area. you watched how he scanned the items and put them into a plastic bag, and then decided to spare him of trying to find his card and offered to pay (more like forced..). “grab my card from my bag, it’s in the second pocket.” you spoke to him, smiling at the sigh he gave and went to your crossbody bag.

he went through the pockets, looking for the card in the pocket you said it would be in, and after a few moments, he eventually found it and grabbed it, and went to pay. and after a few seconds, he returned the card and closed your bag, then went to grab the plastic bag with the cat food.

after a few minutes, you two were now walking home with the cat and the cat food. you ignored the cold air biting at your hands, and you were suddenly grateful that you were wearing a warm, long sleeved shirt since you definitely didn’t want to get sick from this. but the cat definitely seemed warm.. lucky.

“what are we going to do with the cat when we go to work?” you suddenly ask chuuya, remembering that you actually had to work tomorrow and you didn’t necessarily trust a cat you picked up from the street to be alone in your house. “we can give it to koyou? she’s not busy and can watch the cat while we work.” he suggested with a shrug, knowing that his older sister, koyou, could probably help.

you nodded in agreement, knowing koyou could be trusted rather than all of your other friends. “yeah, we can go to koyous house before class, and after work, we can pick up the cat.” you agree.

⌢ time : 6:15 am . ⌣

you and chuuya were currently walking down the hallway of a familiar apartment building, walking to a door that had the number ‘629’ , the same apartment that chuuyas older sister lived in. as you held the cat with one arm, your free hand went to the door, giving a few knocks.

after a few moments, you and chuuya could hear the door lock unlocking, and the door opened to show a woman with redish hair, and was still wearing her home clothes. “oh, hello. did you two need something?” she spoke up softly, giving a polite smile, and a curious look.

you both immediately smiled back at the woman before you. “hey, koyou. we’re wondering if you can watch this cat for the day, and we’ll pick it up after work?” you ask her, seeing how she immediately nodded in agreement and you handed the cat over. “sure, i can watch it for the day. just get to all of your classes, yes?”

you mentally sighed in relief, mostly because you weren’t really expecting her to be that nice, and she seemed to be in a good mood. “thank you, koyou.” chuuya spoke before you, giving his sister a grateful smile before she nodded and closed the door with the cat in her hold.

well, at least you got that out of the way..

⌢ time : 5:08 pm . ⌣

you and all of your friends were at work, you and chuuya had arrived first, then tachihara, then higuchi. all of your other friends were busy with night classes, so they worked the morning shift, while you and the others worked the late afternoon to night shift.

anyways. you and chuuya were in the back, simply talking while chuuya got a smoke break, but then, you two heard yelling from the front. you immediately went inside while chuuya shortly followed after taking a big hit of his cigarette before putting it out, and quickly followed after you.

the moment you walked in, you were witnessing the weirdest scene ever. dazai and yosano were at the counter, talking to tachihara.

“i already told you, i didn’t see your stupid cat nor did i take it!” tachihara yelled back at dazai, who was looking at tachihara as if he killed his whole family. “bullshit, i know one of you took it as revenge!” dazai replied quickly, clearly unhappy and was certain one of you took it.

you and chuuya walked up to the counter, and chuuya crossed his arms as he interrupted. “what’s wrong now, dazai? why the hell are you yelling at my coworkers?” chuuya spoke, glaring at dazai, who focused his attention to you and chuuya as yosano sighed quietly and just watched.

“i know one of you took my cat, there’s nobody else who would steal it but you and your idiotic friends.” he easily replied to chuuya. the brunette took out a paper and waved it in chuuyas face, showing a missing poster of a fluffy, black cat. the same black cat you saved from the cold so it didn’t freeze to death.

well, fuck. you didn’t really mean to steal this guys cat, and the cat didn’t have a collar, so you just sort of assumed it was a stray.

you and chuuya immediately shared a look, before chuuya gave a cocky smile, and before you could speak and admit you had the cat, chuuya cut in and looked back at dazai. “nah, didn’t see your stupid cat anywhere. but i did see another cafe down the road take in a cat that sort of looks like that inside.” chuuya lied through his teeth, shrugging as if it was nothing.

dazai narrowed his eyes, shoving the paper back in his pocket, keeping eye contact the whole time. “osamu, if they said they didn’t take the cat, then they didn’t. no need to be this protective over it.” yosano suddenly spoke, then dazai sighed and softened, realizing he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t help it. the cat was the only thing making him survive the hell that was college.

“fine, if you say that you don’t have it, then you don’t. but if i find out that you or any of your friends stole it and you’re lying to my face, i will—” he spoke, but you quickly cut him off, and decided to just go with chuuyas lie since you two were way too deep into this now. “is it really necessary to threaten? how about this; if we ever see the cat, then we can come find it and give it to you, personally.” you had cut in with a polite smile, noticing how he looked at you, his mood changing immediately as he saw an opportunity to be playful with someone.

dazai smiled, suddenly perking up and becoming all nice. “is that so? personally? how sweet.” he replied with a hint of playfulness. chuuya immediately looked at dazai with a narrowed gaze, wondering how the fuck dazais mood changed.

you, tachihara and chuuya were both confused on how dazais mood quickly changed, how it was like he changed in a blink of an eye. first, he was all stressed and frustrated, then, he was suddenly cheerful and playful? what the fuck?

“yes, personally. now, if you and your friend don’t mind, we actually want to work.” chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes, and dazai looked back at chuuya, seemingly calmed down and shrugged. “fine, then. enjoy your 4 customers.” he said with a mocking grin, then turned around, grabbed yosano and dragged her out the cafe.

tachihara watched the two leave the cafe in disdain, before the bell atop the door rang, signaling the door being opened and closed. “god, what a fucking mood swing that was.. jesus, that guy needs to get checked out and put on some pills.” tachihara mumbled, before going back to setting the coffee machine up.

chuuya was happily smiling once dazai and yosano left, clearly glad that dazai was finally out the shop. that was something he was grateful for. “we are not giving him back that cat until the end of the month, i must drag out his misery.” chuuya whispered to you with a happy sounding sigh, finally finding something to hold over dazai.

you sighed quietly, realizing that you couldn’t do anything since you just lied to that guys face about his cat, and was now holding the thing hostage. “we are so fucked.” you mumbled quietly under your breath.

you had no idea how you will keep your mouth shut about it, but it was too late now to go back..

small authors note : sneaking in my hc of dazai having very, very sudden mood swings hehe.. Though, i do apologize for how rushed this chapter was! just trying to get to the good part quicker ^_^ + reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated <3

[drowned-captain]

The Rebound - Pitfighter! Vi x Fem! Reader - Ch. 6

A/N: I am so sorry for the delay! I was focused on my studies. I took the exam, then I couldn’t focus on writing because I was too worried about whether I passed or not. I found out yesterday that I did pass! Having said that, please allow me a few extra days for the next chapter than my typical 7-10 day posting routine so I can prepare myself for my job. Once all that is taken care of, things should go back to normal. I strive to give my audience quality writing rather than trying to speed through it and have the story suffer. I know that this chapter is a bit shorter, but I wanted to give you guys at least something! Thank y’all so much for your patience <3 - Captain

MDNI (18+ only).

TW// Mature themes like violence, drinking, drug use, infidelity, mean/triggering thoughts, toxic codependency

Word Count: ~3.8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can’t recall when the hell you got home last night. It was almost like you woke up from a dream that was too realistic— the kind when you wake up and briefly forget where or who you are. An annoying, dull headache brushes against your skull as you kick your bedsheets off of yourself. You groaned, slowly sitting up as your headache lightly pulsed. It would have made you want to smack yourself for drinking too much last night, but every beat of pain came with fond memories of your night with Vi.

You chuckle to yourself at how dorky the two of you probably looked on the dance floor before you managed to grab some drinks. You stand up, putting a hand to your mouth to stifle a gag. You groggily walk to your bathroom and drink from the faucet to tame your nausea and hangover. You pick your head up and look at yourself in the mirror, feeling nasty for not at least washing your face before crashing out into the bed. Your eyes quickly catch some discoloration on your neck, your heart feeling like it stopped. 

You squint at the mark, your stomach flipping in a way that completely overpowered the nausea. It was faint. Bruiselike. Just enough to make your brain jump to conclusions. You put both your hands on your head, trying to squeeze out any ounce of memory that might have brought this upon yourself. You and Vi were dancing pretty closely… Did the two of you put gentle hands on each other? Well yes, how else can you steady each other after bottomless drinks? Was it your hand that tugged her closer to you by her belt loop? No, no. You did that because someone tried to dance between you guys. Her face got pretty darn close to yours. But how else were the two of you supposed to hear each other? Was dancing always that intimate? It couldn’t have been from anyone else! Vi would never let someone else do that; she was so serious about mending the friendship after all. Is it normal for new friends to be that way?

You press a finger to it, expecting the soreness of a love bite, but all you feel is a dry and chalky residue. Your brows furrow as you smear it.

‘What the hell…?’

Then it clicks. It was most likely a smudge from Vi’s gloves when she grabbed your neck to steady herself mid-laugh on the way home. You exhale, half in relief and half in exasperation, before shaking your head at yourself. You then peel off last night’s clothing to freshen up and to go about your day.

You felt refreshed after a much needed shower. It didn’t completely douse out the hangover, but you still felt a lot better. You catch a glimpse of your reflection again: bare s/c) skin, damp hair, and tired eyes. You lean in once more, a tiny smile forming in the corner of your mouth. Just tired eyes. For once, you didn’t see hollow sadness in them; they were just tired from last night’s shenanigans. 

Most mornings were the worst. You wake up groggy despite sleeping most of the day, your face hurting from constantly crying, and feeling the weight of grief shackled to your ankles. But this time, nothing.

You blink, almost startled by your realization. Partying with Vi last night, laughing until your ribs hurt, stumbling in the streets afterwards— it had taken up all the space in your mind. There had not been any room left for reminiscing about your ex. No bitter flashbacks, no ache in your chest, no empty feeling gnawing at you the moment you woke up.

Vi was good for you. With her, you didn’t have to think about the past that much.

You ate some of your subpar leftovers for breakfast, or lunch, whatever time of day it was. You then linger in your apartment longer than necessary. There’s nothing stopping you from heading out; It’s not like you have any real obligations other than wondering about how much more cogs are needed for you to make ends meet by the end of the month. But you hesitate anyways, unsure of what exactly you’re waiting for. Your fingers tap against your thighs idly as your eyes flicker toward your door.

You could go find Vi. You know where she lives after all.

The thought comes so quickly and so naturally that it catches you off guard. You were not much for drinking or nightlife before, but now? You woke up feeling like crap, but it wasn’t the same kind of misery that used to linger after you spent countless nights dwelling on the past. Your ex hadn’t crossed your mind once since last night. But the more you stay put, the more memories of them you recall. You stare at the floor, trying to preserve what memories you had of last night before the haunting of the past smothers all that goodness. You have to make new memories– better memories—and it will start with Vi.

Vi is good for you.

Before you could even move, there was knocking on your door. It made you jump.

When you pull the door open, Vi is standing there with her hands in her pockets. Her expression is relaxed like she belongs there.

“Morning, (Y/n),” she grins, “You look alive. I half expected you to be crawling on the floor to get to the door.”

You blink, caught between relief and confusion. “Vi! What are you doing here?”

Vi tilts her head, her bangs coming off her face. “Last night you asked me to come by tomorrow. Tomorrow is now. You said something about needing help selling shit, or something. Don’t tell me you don’t remember?”

You frantically search for any recollection of that conversation. Nope. Nothing.

Vi shakes her head, “ I knew you were out of it last night, but I didn’t think you were that bad,” she laughs. 

You laugh with her, albeit from confusion and not because it’s funny to you. “I’m gonna be honest with you, Vi, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Vi shakes her head once again with a smile, looking down at the floor before looking back at you. “So… you want me to come back later then?”

“No!” you protest quickly. You clear your throat. “No, no. I actually do need to get rid of some stuff. I didn’t have enough time to sell everything I wanted yesterday.”

Vi leans against the doorway before saying, “Alright, let’s get to it then. I told Loris to find a good spot, so once we find him we’ll get started. Where’s the stuff? I can carry it for you.”

Your eyes dart to the large bag by the door. It was in the exact same spot as you tossed it yesterday. Vi follows your gaze, leaning forward a bit to get a better look. You look at her as she leans forward, spotting the pink roots of her hair. You hum, curiosity piqued. You’re glad she came.

Vi watches you as you grab the bag on the floor. You pretend not to notice her trying to take a peek at the rest of your apartment before you let yourself out. She takes your bag from your hands, not giving you a chance to protest.

As the two of you walked, you kept looking at her. Especially her hair.

 “If you stare any longer, my face will have a hole burnt through it,” she jokes, her powder blue eyes meeting yours, “but if I have something on my face, you better not let me walk around with it.”

“Oh! Sorry. I didn’t know that you were a natural pinkette,” you explain, your face warm from being caught, “I don’t see a lot of Zaunites with pink hair. At least not natural, from what I can tell.”

Vi clears her throat, looking away. “Ah, yeah. I prefer my hair black right now.”

“I like your black hair too. I am curious about what you look like with your natural hair color, though.”

Vi pauses before flashing you a playful smile. “Stay curious.”

You exhale through your nose, rolling your eyes.

Vi wasn't sure if she felt guilty about lying to you. You never actually asked her to come by. But what was she supposed to do? Let her new friend struggle to make ends meet? The thought didn’t sit right with her. Besides, selling things was better than sitting around wondering when she’d be able to fight again. 

Yeah, lying to a friend is shitty, but she knew that her loss and absence in the arena probably took a hit on your pocket. At least by helping you sell your things, you are guaranteed to end the day with a pocketful of cogs. But there was another part of Vi that still felt that ache in her pride. You wouldn’t have had to resort to getting rid of your stuff if she was a better fighter. She felt a sense of purpose to have people– especially her friends like you and Loris– to be able to rely on her for something. That sense of purpose—of being needed by someone, of being useful—was something she hadn’t felt in a long time. For all the mistakes she’d made, maybe this could be her chance to do something right. At least for you.

Vi hadn't expected to become attached to anyone so quickly. But here she was, silently caring about how you were doing, even if she isn’t showing it right now. She wasn't used to letting people in—certainly not someone like you, who seemed so... different from the rough edges of Zaun. Yet, when she saw you that first night, when you seemed so downcast and out of place, something about that vulnerability struck a chord deep inside her. 

You needed her.

There was a HUGE part of Vi that was drawn to you because she desires being needed. It wasn't just the fighting, drinking, and amnesia from the past that she craved—it was the idea that she could be the one to help you, to fix something that had been broken. But every time she looked at you, she felt that strange, gnawing feeling deep in her chest. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t sympathy. It was something else. Something that made her feel like maybe she could distract herself from her own mess if she focused on yours. 

Her gaze lingers on you. She has failed the people who were dearest to her time and time again. But you’re still here. She fucked up with you twice, but you’re still here.

‘Let’s do it right this time.’ Your voice echoes in her head. She has never been granted forgiveness that quickly. Not by her own sister or by Caitlyn. But you did.  

However, she couldn't shake the thought that maybe she was doing this for the wrong reasons. Maybe she just wanted to feel like she was still someone worth relying on. Someone who mattered. But she wouldn’t admit that. Not to herself. Not to you.

You’re an escape to all that she has done wrong. You, (Y/n), will be everything she has done right. 

*

The two of you meet up with Loris by the heart of Zaun. If you were here alone, you would rather get yanked by your eyelashes than attempt to sell anything by yourself in this area. The place is gritty, bustling with people who’d either sell their grandmother for a cog or buy something without blinking an eye. 

“I’m glad you two are here with me,”  you say, giving Loris a small smile as you settle your bag onto the ground. You don’t want to look like you’re overreacting, but the weight of the situation is heavy in your chest. “I really appreciate it.”

Vi rolls her eyes, but the smirk she gives you is softer than usual. “You don’t have to thank us,” she grumbles. “We’re just helping you out, that’s all. Don’t get all sappy or I might start calling in favors and make you owe me your life or something.”

“Seriously?” you laugh, “How could I not thank you? It feels wrong not to.”

“You’re giving me cavities here, cupcake,” she jokes, nudging you with her shoulder. Her strength is evident, making you stumble back a few steps, but you don’t mind it at all.

“Cupcake?” you scoff, “That’s what you called me that other night.”

Vi stiffens, a look of shame crossing her face. “Oops, sorry. It’s a dumb nickname. I shouldn’t be calling you that. I used to call my—”

“I kind of like it. But don’t overuse it, alright?” you interrupt, pulling a pair of pants from the bag. Vi laughs dryly, acknowledging your words with a nod.

When she smiles at you, when she makes that sharp retort or that dry joke, you find yourself laughing without thinking. It feels so damn good, like you’ve been holding your breath for too long and now you can finally exhale. But at the same time, there’s something unsettling about it. You know you’re not looking at Vi like a person, at least not entirely. You’re looking at her as a way to escape, to forget what you’ve been trying to outrun for so long. The nagging memories of your ex, the broken promises, the pain that’s still lurking beneath the surface—it all fades when Vi’s around. 

These thoughts begin to haunt you because you don’t want to need anyone that way. You don’t want to rely on someone else just to feel okay, just to fill that emptiness inside you. You know deep down that it can get unhealthy very quickly, that leaning on Vi so much is only going to cause problems. But for now, at this moment, it feels safe. Maybe that’s enough.

Loris and Vi help you out with selling some of your valuables. Their intimidation factor made you feel secure— it was like having two scary dogs. People were more willing to give you a fair price for things rather than trying to haggle with you to lower the prices so much. The negative side about it, however, was that most people seemed too afraid to approach. Only the people who looked somewhat more well-off gave you a chance. 

“Loris, can you try smiling?” you ask him, “I feel like we’re a bit too scary.”

“I’m jollier than Vi on a winning streak,” he remarks. “Trust me, kid, it's not me.”

He gestures towards Vi, who is glaring down every passerby with her arms crossed. She probably doesn’t mean to, but she’s scowling.

You take a few side steps towards her. She looks at you, her face relaxing. “Hey, (Y/n).”

You put a hand on her arms, encouraging her to unfold them. “You can relax, you know.”

“I always look like this!” She looks down at herself.

“If you keep it up, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Vi couldn’t help but chuckle at your words. She tries a more relaxed posture, putting her hands in her pockets and leaning her weight on one hip. “Is this better, ma’am?” she teases, giving you the fakest toothy smile you have ever seen.

You laugh, bumping her with your hip. “You know what I mean!”

The dimming light of Zaun’s sky was casting long shadows across the crowded streets. It made everything appear colorful; the neon lights highlighted concrete surfaces in greens, yellows, and purples. You stood on the edge of the marketplace, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as you watched people bustle around, haggling and shouting, their voices a blend of desperation and excitement. The weight of the day pressed against you, and you found yourself feeling smaller than usual within all the chaos. 

Vi rummaged through your bag of items. There wasn’t too much left, but she was determined to help you get rid of the last of your stuff. She and Loris were the kind of people who made this kind of thing look effortless, while you had to fight yourself to not crumble under the weight of it all. 

“You can relax, you know,” Vi teases, making you eat your words, “You gonna stare at the ground all night?”

“I’m just tired,” you muttered, glancing at her.

“I think we sold enough,” Loris chimes in, “We could walk you home, (Y/n).”

Vi looks at Loris, then back at you before saying, “Wait! You don’t have to leave now. We didn’t get a chance to go out and do something else. Oh, but… if you’d rather go home we could catch up tomorrow or something?”

You didn’t catch the desperate undertone of her voice. Something, or rather someone caught your eye. A figure, standing on the opposite side of the street. You froze when you saw them. Someone you wished stayed in the past.

Your ex.

They stood with their back to you, chatting with other people. They were completely unaware of your presence. The sight of them, so familiar and so distant, made a lump form in your throat. All the happiness of being with Vi and Loris that you enjoyed was quickly overshadowed by your ex lover’s very presence.

You hadn’t seen them since you kicked them out. The way things ended between you two was still too fresh to process. You weren’t ready to completely process it. It didn’t help that they looked the same as when you saw them last: casual, laid-back, and oblivious to the weight of the pain and suffering they left on you. They had the same mannerisms as they sold a box of their special shimmer to the people who have fallen on hard times. You turned a blind eye to this behavior in the past, but seeing it happen again before you made all the feelings of guilt, shame, and disgust well up in your chest. You were just as shitty of a person as they were for looking past that. 

The image of their empty vials of shimmer lying about the ring flashes through your head. Seeing Vi struggle to fight back. The image of her laying on the floor. Now with the knowledge that it was their damn formula that they sold to The Pit, and the knowledge that they indirectly nearly ended Vi’s fighting career was enough to make you nauseous. 

“(Y/n)?” Loris speaks, sensing the shift in your demeanor. You looked like you were about to pass out. Now Vi turned her attention to you. 

“Hey,” Vi called out, walking up next to you. Her voice was soft. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer. You were too fixated on watching your ex.

 Without thinking, you took a step back. Your wide (e/c) eyes unblinking, your gaze never leaving them.

Vi tracked your movements. “You alright?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

They never even looked your way.

Vi, noticing your stiffened posture, stepped in front of you. She looked back to see who or what you might be looking at, but she couldn’t tell where exactly. She faced you again, softly putting her hands on your shoulders. “Hey, let’s get out of here.” Her voice was far from stern or harsh. It was gentle. Nurturing. 

You swallowed hard, still swimming in the feelings that whirlpooled around you. 

“They didn’t… They don’t even… They don’t even know I’m here…” you muttered under your breath, fighting the stink of a sad and angry sting in your eyes.

Vi gently nudges you, her expression serious, “(Y/n), look at me.”

Your eyes focused on hers rather than looking past her.

“Let’s just get away from here, yeah? Come on.” She turns you around, letting Loris grab your things before the three of you disappear into a quieter area. 

*

The alleyway was silent except for the distant sounds of Zaun’s hustle. Loris stood guard while Vi comforted you. She was trying to coax you into a better mood, but everything felt heavier tonight. You already cried on your walk to this area, but now you were just pissed. You were so fucking angry at yourself for letting their presence take away the glee of being with your two friends. You were mad because you didn’t expect this whole situation to hit you that hard. Most importantly, the brief self-reflection about you ever being involved with someone so distasteful made you feel like the dumbest thing to ever exist. You were fuming.

“Come on…” she says softly, almost pleading. Her voice is higher in pitch. This was an unspoken challenge wrapped in warmth to her.

You fold your arms, turning your body slightly away from her. You hated her seeing you like this. You felt like a child. You had a scowl on your lips.

Vi doesn’t give up on you. She nudges your shoulder with hers, the softness of it was a clear invitation for you to look at her. You try to ignore it, keeping your eyes averted. But she’s too persistent.

“Cupcake…?” she draws out the word.

Damn it. Your mouth twitches, the muscles in your face wanting to betray you. The nickname had no right making you smile. But Vi noticed that microexpression. A smirk spreads across her face as she steps in front of you. You turn your head away, but she follows. She’s so close now that you can feel the soft puff of her breath on your skin. 

“You know you want to,” she says with a grin, hands in her pockets. She’s beginning to enjoy this. “C’mon. You want to smile so bad.”

You grit your teeth, your jaw tightening. You are fighting your own face. You can feel the edge of a smile creeping onto your face. Vi’s silly confidence had a way of blowing away the angry cloud on top of your head. She was like a beacon of light that you couldn’t avoid. It was so new to you. 

“I don’t…” you start, but speaking made it hard for you to maintain your angry face.

Vi’s grin widens, “You don’t?” she raises her scarred eyebrow as she leans in just a bit closer. “Your mouth is kinda twitchy. Go on, let me see those teeth. Come on. I won’t tell anyone!”

The challenge in her eyes. The warmth of her smile. The way she was so damn close to you— you break. You can’t help it. Your lips curl upwards, and despite your last efforts to look mad, you end up laughing softly.

Vi steps back, nodding in satisfaction, “Ah, there it is!”

You roll your eyes, rubbing your face from the soreness of fighting it. “Whatever. You’re ridiculous.”

“I know. But at least I’m fun.” 

“You two make me sick.” Loris calls out, glancing over his shoulder.

The two of you exchange a glance and laugh. For a moment, the two of you stand there. Your tension fades as her presence grounds you. 

“I won’t pressure you to talk to me about it. But whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here for you. Okay?” she puts a hand on your shoulder. You nod, giving her a real smile that she deserves. That she earned.

Even if you weren’t ready to open up fully, it felt a little easier to breathe.

End of Ch. 6

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

Ch. 7 (IN PROGRESS)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist Cupcakes: @ren-ren23 @captain-crabbo @baylegend6 @winchestergirlspn @charcoal-heart @brbaabs

Sorry again for the delay and shorter chapter! I'm hoping to make Chapter 7 the longest chapter since I'll be taking a few days.

[swamp-chicken]

Delivery boy 3...

wowww you dirty dog! I intended to write a 3rd chapter of delivery boy that would be from bdubs' POV with the roles kind of reversed. it would be about etho opening up/being more vulnerable. but I gave up bc I found it hard to show that from bdubs' pov (every iteration of his character that I write is delusional abt etho)

anyways here's an intro that I wrote. no nsfw!

Bdubs’ phone buzzed almost the minute he stepped out of the shower, but it wasn’t until he was settling down to sleep that he remembered to check it. He yawned as he wiggled deeper under the blanket, reaching blindly over to the nightstand to feel for his phone. He read the notification, blinked, then read the notification again. Then his phone slipped from his numb fingers and smacked him straight on the face.  

“Y’oww!” Bdubs yelped, and sat up. His phone tumbled into his lap. Hands trembling, he tapped the screen on again, only to be faced with the same message. 

ethoPDST deliveryboy: hey

Bdubs let out a shaky breath. He hadn’t heard from Etho at all since their jaunt in the hotel room two weeks back. They had fallen asleep and then… nothing. Bdubs had woken up alone in the hotel room, sunlight filtering through the curtains and no evidence of Etho except for the indent on the pillow. Nor had he seen Etho at his regular stops on his delivery route. He would have assumed Etho had quit entirely if it weren’t for Doc giving him intermittent updates. “Your buddy Etho was in here the other day— gave me some heirloom seeds, isn’t that sweet?” 

Bdubs assumed he must have seriously fucked up somehow. Or maybe Etho had woken up and realized he really wasn’t that interested, that Bdubs wasn’t that good of a lay and he wasn’t even that attractive. Bdubs smoothed a hand through his wet hair. No. Impossible. He knew what he looked like in those pink shorts. 

Bdubs was tempted to just his phone away, roll over, and go to sleep. But he was burning with curiosity and anger and something else, something cloying and desperate. So instead he typed out a reply. what’s up?

The response came only a second later. wanna come over? 

Bdubs flushed. It was late, he was tired, and Etho had been steadily ignoring him for weeks now. Not to mention, he was getting way too old for this kind of thing.

His hands barely shook as he replied. sure! where do you live?

[writingtraumaforever]

Uncontrolled Chaos: Chapter 41

Notes: AN ANNOUNCEMENT! I wanna say that I have NOT stopped writing neither the 'Juno' fic or the Courtship series. I still plan on continuing those! They just take more time than the Uncontrolled Chaos series does. Uncontrolled Chaos was my first series I started here, and is by far my most followed one, so it is my priority. However, I don't want to become drained by it and that reflect in my writing. This will also hopefully give me more time to give my other series some love too. SO from here on, I will be updating the series every weekend. This doesn't mean I won't still potentially add a chapter here and there during the week if I get a spurt of muse. But as for an actual schedule to go by, I will be doing my best to post at least one update every weekend. Hope this is okay. <3

Summary: Shadow overhears an interesting conversation.

UC Masterpost!

Link to My AO3!

Start:

Amy had been relieved to see Shadow returning with Sonic by his side, both safe and sound. After some hugging and soft reassurances that he was okay as well as some apologies for making her worry, Sonic was able to convince her to go to bed and get some well-deserved rest. Afterwards, Sonic and Shadow went out to the garage to find Tails laying there asleep at the workbench by the radio.

Sonic smiled all soft at the sight, walking over to pick his little brother up and carry him to Shadow.

“Can you take him??”

Shadow blinked, staring at Sonic as if he hadn’t quite processed the question before looking at the fox. Then Sonic again. “I-..”

“I need to take care of something.. and he is seriously late for his visit to Snoozetown,” Sonic continues, already moving to carefully hand the kid off to Shadow whether he agrees to such a thing or not, “just tuck him in for me, huh?”

 “The fox and I-.. we’re not..,” Shadow tries to defend his case as to why he’s not comfortable with such a task, but Sonic just snorts and rolls his eyes.

“I know you and your Tails aren’t close.. but my Tails is close to my Shadow. So he won’t mind.. he may not be showing it, but he’s really missin’ Shadow, too.. it’s why he’s been overworking himself to get him back home to us.”

Shadow’s brows knit slightly at this, looking down at the fox that’s been pushed into his arms before sighing and giving a small nod, “Alright..”

“Thank you.”

Shadow turns, carrying the fox cradled in his arms to the door and through the home. He’s not actually sure which room belongs to the fox, but he does know which ones are the guest room and which one is Sonic’s. So by process of elimination, he finds it quite easily. It’s very tidy. Clean. The bed has a white comforter with bright red stripes on it. He wonders if the fox’s favorite color is also red like Sonic’s..

He also wonders why the hell he knows that.

Moving to the bed, he ever so carefully shifts a hand from under the kit’s back to reach and pull back the comforter, laying the child down then and pursing his lips as he looks him over. He’s still got his shoes on.. and his big, bushy tails are hanging off the side of the bed..

A nurturing nature he’s long forgotten begins kicking in, moving to carefully slip off the fox’s red shoes and place them neatly at the foot of the bed. Picking up one tail at a time, he ever so gently and tenderly tucks them up on the mattress and covers them with the comforter to keep them from dangling off. Tails shift in his sleep then, groaning quietly and smacking his lips together and rolling onto his side further into the middle of the bed before parting his lips to snooze quietly through them. Shadow smirks ever so slightly, carefully tucking the comforter into the kit’s sides to make him nice and cozy.. 

Then he’s moving to the window and shutting the blinds and closing the curtains. End of the world or not, the kid needs some actual sleep. So he doesn’t want any sunlight waking him early. 

Once all this is done, Shadow makes his way back to the doorway and grabs the knob to slowly shut it— pausing just before it shuts to take one last look at the child..

He’s never stopped in all this mess to think about it, really.. how this world’s Shadow’s absence has effected people other than Sonic..

With the other Shadow having moved in after being found by Sonic… he supposes the other Shadow may have taken on an older brother figure to the kit as well. Which means when this world’s Shadow went missing, this Sonic didn’t just lose a lover.. but this fox lost a brother..

Their family was broken.

Shadow’s lips curl into a thoughtful frown at this thought.. crimson eyes watching the kit’s shoulders rise and fall with his deep breaths as he sleeps. 

His mind can’t help but wander back to a time when he himself was someone’s brother..

To a time when tucking in a restless and tired child at night wasn’t uncommon. A time when being loved and missed by someone wasn’t such a distant thought nor outside the realm of possibilities. A time when he loved someone too.. took care of them. Protected them. 

Had a family.

His eyes shut and behind his closed lids, orange fur is replaced with blonde hair and a blue headband..

He closes the door.

Making his way towards the room he sleeps in, he finds Sonic still isn’t there resting..

So he instead makes his way back down the stairs to check on him, assuming he’s still in the garage once he doesn’t find him in either the living room or the kitchen.

Walking to the garage door, he opens it only to immediately pause upon hearing a quiet voice speaking from the inside..

“I just miss you so much..”

‘I know, my love.. we’re getting closer, though. It won’t be long until I have you in my arms again.’

“Fuck..,” the unmistakable sound of Sonic’s breathy little chuckle along with a wet sniffle, “You sound so damn cheesy..”

‘I can’t help it. Not having you with me has made me delusionally cheesy.’

Sonic snorts, Shadow peeking around the door to see him sitting at the workbench with the radio on.. speaking into it to who he can only assume is his Shadow..

He’s got small tears rolling down his cheeks, but he’s smiling bright and wide.. Shadow can’t help but feel a bit lighter seeing this.

He’s glad they’re working things out.

“…How’d the other Sonic take the news of us being together?”

Shadow’s ears perk up at that, leaning a bit more against the door as his curiosity gets the better of him. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping.. he should leave and go to bed. Rest.

But..

‘Not great at first,’ the other’s Shadow voice sighs through the speaker, ‘But he came around…’

“He feel embarrassed for not figuring it out until earlier??” 

‘Perhaps a little.. but I think most of it was just.. a lot of self loathing.’

“That’s.. really sad,” Sonic frowns, leaning a his cheek on his hand as his elbow props on the table, “Why the self loathing??”

‘He blames himself for a lot of the differences in our worlds.. for not looking for his version of me after the battle on ARK.’

“Well, dude should’ve looked,” Sonic huffs with a spiteful roll of his eyes.

‘It’s not that simple, darling..’

“Don’t see how it ain’t. Nothing could’ve stopped me from looking for you..”

‘An inhibitor ring might..’

There’s a long moment of silence. 

Shadow’s own eyes widen slightly as he listens, brows furrowing as his hand squeezes the knob of the door he’s holding a bit tighter..

“What.. what d’ya mean?”

‘It’s.. it’s just a lot,’ the other Shadow sighs through the radio speaker, sounding tired and distressed over the entire topic, ‘Just trust me when I say him not looking for me wasn’t because he didn’t care..’

“Alright.. I’ll trust you.”

‘What of the other Shadow, though?? Has he handled the situation well? Has he been kind to you?? This Sonic seems to think he’s pretty intense..’

Sonic chuckles, rolling his eyes fondly, “Intense is definitely one word for him.. but yeah. He’s cool. A bit icy, but so were you at first. It’s honestly been both a pain and extremely endearing having to deal with you being this way again.”

‘You miss me being a pain?’

“Well— no. But it’s just.. nostalgic, I guess?”

‘Maybe I should be an ass to you more when I get back.’

“As if you need to be any more of an ass than you already are,” Sonic teases with a giggled little grin. The other Shadow’s chuckling can be heard through the speakers.

‘..I was just worried. This Sonic is pretty convinced the guy hates him. Didn’t want him mistreating you..’

“He’s been fine,” Sonic assures softly.

Shadow frowns a bit at hearing this.. hearing his own Sonic thinks he hates him. Though he shouldn’t be surprised by this.. what has he really done to make his Sonic think otherwise??

“Again, he’s-.. grumpy.. and a bit difficult now and then, but nothing I can’t handle or haven’t handled before.”

‘Good,’ the other Shadow sighs, ‘So this Sonic is just projecting his self-loathing onto his Shadow, then?’

“Probably, yeah,” Sonic nods with a shrug as if the other Shadow can see his body language, “But there’s definitely some tension between them.. hate or not, they’re not exactly friendly.”

‘Mm. Definitely not..’

“Is it wrong of me to want to meddle???” Sonic chuckles.

‘Meddling wouldn’t be the best idea,’ the other Shadow sounds amused nonetheless, ‘Don’t be more of a troublemaker than you already have been.’

“Hey- you’re the one using chaos control with a fake emerald and switching places with alternate dimensional versions of yourself!”

‘Touché.’

“I just think they could be happy,” Sonic defends with a shrug, finger tracing invisible circles on the workbench he’s leaning against, “Don’t like seeing any version of you so alone and sad.. the brooding is nostalgic and amusing and all, but it’s also just kinda depressing.”

‘I know, love.. but we have to consider the fact that maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be in their world. Maybe they’re simply better off the way they currently are. We just-.. just may not be meant to be in every universe..’

“You really believe that?” Sonic asks quietly, brows knitting with a knowing little smile on his muzzle.. he knows better. He already knows the answer.

‘..No.’

“Me neither.”

A heavy sigh comes from the other Shadow again, Shadow himself furrowing his brows in thought over this whole conversation..

They really believe that Sonic and Shadow are suppose to be together in every universe?? That’s such a close-minded way of thinking. A dumb one. An illogical one..

And yet Shadow.. almost admires it. Admires the fact they love each other enough to truly think that their bond extends all barriers of time and space.. that it’s simply inevitable.

‘..They’ll work it out on their own.. for now, I’m more concerned with getting back to you.’

“Aw yeah?” Sonic’s voice takes up a playful little tone, “Whatcha gonna do to me when you get back..?”

Shadow’s eyes widen slightly, a blush beginning to grow on his muzzle.

A low chuckle rumbles through the radio’s speakers, ‘Such things aren’t appropriate to be spoken through this microphone, darling..’

“C’mon..,” Sonic coos, his tail swishing back and forth behind him as he leans closer to the radio, “M’all alone.. give me somethin’ to think about while you’re away..”

And that is Shadow’s cue to leave, yup.

He’s moving to shut the door silently, turning to hurry his way back up to the bedroom before he hears anymore of that.

Once in Sonic’s room, he closes the door behind him and sighs heavy as he leans his back against it. His eyes stare down at the floor, taking in everything he just heard and processing it slowly.

There were three big things that stuck out to him more than anything else.

His Sonic blames himself for not finding Shadow after the ARK Battle.

His Sonic thinks he hates him.

And the alternate Sonic and Shadow both believe that their love is inevitable.

It’s all a lot to swallow. And he himself doesn’t know which to believe and which to just brush aside..

He runs a hand back through his quills, taking a deep breath through his nose before sighing it out to push himself off the door and walk to the bed.

He knew going off of this Sonic and Shadow’s conversation and interpretations of the situation was pathetic. And foolish. If he wanted to get any real solutions and answers, he needed to talk to his Sonic himself. One on one..

But then the entire idea of such a thing seemed silly because that shouldn’t be his priority right now. He needs to get home. Not be worrying about figuring out him and that Faker’s history. He needs to be in the present, in the now.

Deal with that first..

And then.. when he was back home..

Maybe-…

Just maybe..