#(they end up sending a lot of voice notes during that time)

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Calling High Fives Something Else

Summary: Relativity/Reunion Falls AU, Hijinks occur during a trip to Gravity Falls' pool.

Masterlist

...

Ford blames Bud Gleeful.  Mostly because it’s entirely his fault.

He totally understands Stan and Grauntie Mabel’s desire to go to the pool.  It’s too hot to think today.  But his whole “spend the entire summer wearing big gloves with two fingers shoved in the pinkie finger part” plan doesn’t really work if said gloves get wet.

So, Ford puts on the lightest clothes he brought with him, plus the gloves, and plans on finding a chair as firmly in the shade as he can get and drinking a bottle and a half of water every twenty minutes.

It’s fine.  He lives right next to a beach.  It’s not like he’s starving for swimming experiences.

Stan and Grauntie Mabel seem to think it’s a little weird, but they let it slide, and Ford spends the morning over on a chair with his notebook.  The ones firmly in the shade were taken, but he’s managed to find one partially in the shade, and he’s going over all the entries he’s made so far.

He’s been taking notes on the weird stuff he’s seen so far in Gravity Falls, but he doesn’t really feel like he has a good baseline.  He wishes he’d grown up here like Stanley.  Maybe he could ask him for a guide of some kind.

“Why hello, Stanley.  I thought we’ve established this is my chair.”

Ford looks up, because the voice is close enough that the person is clearly talking to him.

The kid in front of him narrows his eyes.  “You’re not Stanley.”

“Uh, no,” Ford says.  “Who are you?”

“I’m Bud,” the boy says, crossing his arms.  “The rightful owner of this chair.”

Ford blinks at him.  “But I got here first.  I’ve been here a while, actually.”

“That doesn’t matter.  The point is, Stanley and I have an agreement that I get this chair always.”

Ford looks around to see if there’s any other chairs that are more in the shade.  There aren’t.  “Well, I’m not Stanley,” he says slowly.  “You don’t have any kind of deal with me.”

Bud doesn’t seem to like that response.  Instead, he grabs at some necklace wrapped around his neck, and suddenly Ford feels himself climb out of the chair against his will.

“What the—” he starts, but before he can figure out what the heck is going on, he walks three feet forward and jumps into the deep end of the pool.

Ford swims quickly for the surface, and comes face-to-face with Bud, who’s looking over the side of the pool, while staying far enough back that Ford can’t pull him in.

“I told you, that’s my chair,” Bud says, and he walks back across the concrete and sits down in the chair.

Ford stares at him for another second, half stunned at the audacity, and half still trying to figure out how in the world he just made Ford walk over and jump in the pool.  He reaches for the wall to pull himself out, only for his gloves to slip right off the slick surface and send him tumbling back under the water.

When he surfaces again, Ford can hear Bud’s laughter, and his cheeks warm in embarrassment.  He gets his arms over the wall this time and pulls himself out using those instead, though his gloves are wet enough that they almost fall off, and wouldn’t that just be the icing on this cake.

“Can’t swim very well, can you?” Bud calls.

Ford grits his teeth and marches back over to stand right next to Bud.  “I can swim fine,” he snaps.  “Get out of my chair.”

“You’d swim a lot better without those stupid things on,” Bud says with a mocking smile.  He reaches for his necklace again, and wait— no—

But it’s too late, Ford’s moving against his own volition again, and before he can think to try something else, he feels himself pull the gloves off and hurl them back into the pool.

Bud starts laughing behind him, and Ford does the only thing he can think of— he grabs his shirt, bunches it up over his hands, and runs for the locker room.

He finds an empty shower stall, ducks inside it and yanks the curtain closed, and presses his stupid, freakish, six-fingered hands to the side of his head.

Why does he have to be like this?

“Uh, Ford?” comes a now-familiar voice.  “You in here?  I saw you run towards the locker rooms.”

“Go away,” Ford says weakly.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” asks Stanley, and Ford hears him come to a stop outside the stall he’s in.  “You looked kinda freaked when you ran, are you okay?”

“Who’s Bud?” Ford asks instead of answering.  “And why did you make a deal with him about a public pool deck chair?”

Stan groans, loud and irritated.  “I didn’t,” he says.  “Was he being a jerk to you?”

Ford opens his mouth, but before he can answer, Stan pulls aside the shower curtain, and Ford shoves his hands down into his lap.

“Ford,” Stan says, confused.  “You’re all wet.”

“He uh—”

“He pushed you into the pool?” Stan asks, obvious anger entering his eyes.

“No!  Well, kinda?  He had this necklace thing, it was like— I don’t know,” Ford says.  He drops his head onto his knees.  “He made me throw my gloves in the pool,” he says miserably.

“He what?” Stan says, sounding even more angry.  “Those are like, your favorite thing!”

Ford pulls his head up again, looking at Stan in confusion.  “Huh?”

“Dude, I never see you take them off!” Stan exclaims.

Ford looks down again.  “I uh,” he says.  “That’s not—”

“Hang on, I’m going to get them back,” Stan says, and before Ford can protest, he stomps out of the locker room and back towards the pool.

Ford doesn’t know quite what Stan does, but it includes a loud scream from Bud followed by a loud splash, so he has something of an idea.  Regardless, a couple minutes later, Stan shows back up in the stall, sopping wet gloves in hand.

“Here,” he says, and he hands them to Ford.  Ford doesn’t move his hands to take them, though, and after a second Stan just shrugs and sets them on the ground next to him.

“We should probably wash them before you wear them again anyway,” he says.

Ford buries his head in his knees again.

“Sorry dude,” Stan says, patting him on the shoulder.  “Bud’s always like that.”

Ford doesn’t move, and Stan must not know what to do, because after a second he picks up the gloves from the floor and starts ringing them out.  “I think they’ll be okay, though,” he says.  We just gotta wash and dry them again.”

“I don’t care about the stupid gloves, Stanley,” Ford grumbles.  “I— what if he saw?”

“Saw?” Stan asks, sounding confused.

And wow, is Ford not ready for this.  He hadn’t planned on ever needing to be ready for this.  He hadn’t planned on Stan ever learning.

But if Bud did see something, Ford wants to tell Stan himself, before he learns how much of a freak he is from someone else entirely.

So, Ford sniffs, does his best to ignore the panic in his chest, and pulls his hands out from his shirt.  He can’t quite manage to display them to Stanley, instead gripping his shirt’s hem and keeping his gaze firmly on the floor.

“Hey, what’s…” Stan trails off.  Ford waits with dread for the weirded out “um,” the “what’s wrong with your hands”, for Stanley to realize that maybe he actually doesn’t want a weird freak for a brother after all.

Instead, Stan says, “Wait.  There aren’t even enough fingers on these gloves.”

Ford turns to him in bafflement.  “What?”

“Why are they your favorite?” Stan asks, looking back at the gloves like they’re the strange thing about this situation.  “They don’t have enough fingers.”

“You are really stuck on the gloves,” Ford says weakly.

“Well why do you wear them all the time if they’re not—” Stan stops, and gives Ford a look.  “Were you… trying to hide them?”

Ford feels his cheeks warm again, and stuffs his hands back inside his shirt.

“Why?” Stan asks, sounding deeply confused.

“What do you mean why?” Ford asks, probably a bit too much irritation in his tone.  “They’re— they’re weird.”

“Well, yeah,” Stan says, and Ford ducks his head down further.  But then he adds, “What’s wrong with that?”

Ford lifts his head and stares at him.

“Weird things are the coolest,” Stan says, starting to grin.  “Or did you miss the… I don’t know, entire town?”

Ford looks down again and starts fidgeting with his extra fingers.  “That’s different.”

“Uh, no it’s not.  Dude, you’re telling me you’ve got two whole extra fingers and you’ve never told me before because you’re embarrassed?  That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!  I mean, come on, you gotta tell me if you’re this cool!”

“I— what?” Ford asks, feeling thoroughly lost in regards to how this conversation has gone.

“Wait wait wait,” Stan says, his eyes getting big.  “Do you call high fives high sixes?”

“Uh, no?”

Stan gives a little gasp that almost sounds betrayed.  “Why not?” he asks.  “The opportunity is right there!”

“I— I don’t—”

“Well we’re definitely gonna have to fix that right away.  Come on, high six!”  He holds his hand up to Ford, a bright expectant grin on his face.

Ford stares at him for another second, then slowly raises his hand and smacks it against Stan’s own.  “High… six?” he says hesitantly.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Stan says, jumping to his feet.  “Man, it’s a good thing you met me, or you’d just go on never taking advantage of the greatest opportunity ever.”

“Calling high fives something else?”

“Exactly!  I’m so glad we see eye-to-eye on this,” Stan says, nodding in approval.  He looks down at the gloves on the ground again, and something sparks in his eyes.

“Hey, can I actually hang onto these for a bit?” he asks.  “I have an idea.”

And, well, the thought of going without his gloves for longer than absolutely necessary isn’t a fun one.  But Stan’s smiling so big at him, and somehow this hasn’t ended with him being weirded out or disturbed, so maybe going without them for just a little bit longer wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

So hesitantly, Ford nods.  And when Stan lights up even more, it makes Ford start to smile too.

…

He does keep his hands tucked inside his sleeves for most of the rest of the day, but Stan must have said something to Grauntie Mabel, because she doesn’t comment at all on them during dinner.

Stan is in the craft shop for most of the evening, and he gives Ford strict instructions not to come in, so Ford spends the evening with Grauntie Mabel, who’s knitting something in her armchair while Ford writes down everything he remembers about Bud’s necklace in his notebook.

Eventually, he moves up to the attic, and it’s here where Stan finally shows up again.

“Okay!” he says, coming to a stop right in front of Ford with his hands behind his back.  “Can I see your hands please?”

Ford still feels a little uncomfortable about holding his hands out in the open, but if earlier was any indication, he doesn’t have to be worried about Stan seeing them.  So he puts them in front of him, and then Stan pulls something out from behind his back.  He’s holding the gloves from earlier, but when he slips one onto Ford’s hand, all six of his fingers find a spot to fit into.

Ford blinks as Stan slips the other one on too, and then steps back with a bright grin.  ���Ta da!” he says.  “Custom made gloves!  Now you don’t have to stick two fingers in the pinky spot anymore!”

Ford flexes his fingers slightly, enjoying the way his last two don’t tense up against each other.  He shakes his head, looking back up at Stan.  “How did you do that?”

“Please, you think I can grow up with Grauntie Mabel and not know how to sew?  You’ll probably know some yourself by the time you go home,” Stan says, putting his hands on his hips.

Ford laughs a little.  “I won’t be telling that to Pa,” he says, but he’s smiling.  “I— thanks, Stanley.”

Stan beams at him.  And as he heads back over to his bed, Ford looks down at the gloves.

Maybe Stanley was on to something about them being his favorite.

[azrielbrainrot]

Baby, You Know That I Miss You

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Phone Sex, Guided Masturbation

Description: You miss your boyfriend terribly when you go visit your parents during break. Luckily, he's more than willing to help.

Warnings: Smut, phone sex, guided masturbation, dirty talk

Word Count: ~2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This story is part of my Band AU as well as Kinktober, but you don't have to read their other stories to enjoy this one since it's basically all smut! Also I'm not too sure if this is all that good but we move. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

“I didn't know I was going to be so busy all day,” you say with a sigh, happy that you finally get to relax in the comfort of your own bed, “but at least I get to listen to your voice.”

You were a bit sad that you missed a performance, it was the first one you didn't attend since you became official, but because of it your schedules ended up aligning perfectly and you got to talk to him for a while before going to sleep, when you texted him this morning you thought you wouldn't be able to.

Coming home for break, after what happened the last time you were here had been a bit nerve wracking. You didn't know if you would have to run into Eleanor or Parker, and you didn't know how you would react if you did. Luckily, you hadn't seen them, and you found that when your mother mentioned them you didn't really feel anything besides some mild resentment at the way you were treated, all the anger and sadness that just their names evoked a couple months ago had mostly subsided.

If you were being completely honest, forgetting about your childhood best friend had been a lot easier than you thought possible. You were sure the fact that she hurt you so badly that there wouldn't be any possible way to salvage your relationship helped, since it made forgetting her truly the only option, but most of all you had to thank Azriel and your friends, old and new, for it.

The hardest part of being home for these last two weeks ended up being away from Azriel. Yours is still a relatively new relationship, although sometimes it felt like you had known him your entire life, and so it was hard to not be able to see him for so long when you were spending almost all of your free time together. You missed sleeping in his arms, missed watching him and the boys practice, missed the dates at the small café by his apartment you'd found together, the way he held your hand when you went on walks and, Gods, you missed his touch.

“Want me to tell you a story?”

“Anything is fine as long as it's coming from you,” you admit, his deep whispered voice enough to send a gentle warmth traveling through your veins. Azriel hums, something obviously on his mind. “What?”

“You always liked the sound of my voice,” he muses, letting the words flow from his lips slowly but confidently, knowing it would get a reaction out of you and prove his point.

“Well, yes but that's normal.” You try to keep an indifferent tone, but you know he can easily hear through it. “You're a singer for a reason.”

“We both know it's not just that,” he murmurs, and you can almost hear the smirk growing on his lips, can picture the confident yet alluringly attractive look that always falls over his face when he knows he's affecting you, one that unfortunately only makes it worse. You find yourself squeezing your thighs together, wishing he was right next to you instead of in a different city, so you could kiss that smirk off his lips and let him show you all the different ways he can affect you.

“Don't do that,” you breathe out, almost pleadingly, every hint of sleepiness escaping your body.

“Do what, princess?”

“That,” you say a bit too loudly, calming down and lowering your voice when you add, “not when I'm three hours away.”

Azriel sighs, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest, needing to feel your hands on him as much as you do. If you were in your apartment instead of at your parent's house, you might have gotten out of bed and made your way to his house with how needy you were starting to feel.

“It's a shame that I can't sit you on my lap right now and whisper every dirty little thing I want to do in your ear.” Truly a shame, you think as you press your legs together. “But we can try something else.”

“Try what?”

“Just want you to do as I say,” he explains, desire dripping on every word. You bite your lip, his intentions now crystal clear in your mind. This wasn't something you had ever done or even considered, but you feel a shiver of excitement run down your spine at just the thought. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, heart beating wildly behind your ribcage as you hear the rustle of sheets through the speaker.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

You let out a soft chuckle before answering unashamedly, “Yes.” You had taken to stealing some of his shirts to sleep or wear around your house before you even started dating, though stealing was probably the wrong choice of words seeing as he either let you or even gave you some of them himself. His shirts were not only comfortable but they also smelled like him so they quickly replaced your own old shirts you used to wear to sleep before.

Azriel lets out a hum, one that sounds more like a moan, probably lost in the thought of you touching yourself while wearing his shirt before he gathers himself and starts, “Want you to run your hand over your stomach, feel how warm and soft your skin is.” Your hands follow his commands easily, mimicking the way he caresses your skin instinctively, desire growing within you with every brush of your fingers.

“Now push your panties to the side,” he continued, voice getting deeper as he spoke through a clenched jaw, his own hand likely occupied as well, “tell me what you find.”

You knew what you'd find even before your hand traveled down to do as he said, a sigh escaping you all the same when your fingers dive between your folds, feeling just how soaked you were, a string connecting them to your cunt when you pull away.

“Are you wet for me?” The pleasure was obvious in his voice, and you had no doubt in your mind that he was stroking his cock as he spoke, the thought making your cunt clench around nothing.

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding along even though he can't see you, swirling your fingers around and making a mess of yourself, careful to avoid your clit and entrance no matter how bad you need to take some of the edge off, waiting for him.

“Good,” he moans out, “Fuck, you're so good to me.”

If you closed your eyes, you could picture him laying on his bed, sheets thrown off his body and underwear long since discarded to the side, hand stroking his thick cock slowly, moving up and down as he also imagined what you looked like as you followed his orders, and wished it was your hand instead of his own.

“Now take your panties off,” he says after a moment, waiting patiently as he hears you shimmy them off your legs, sighing as you spread your thighs and bend your knee before letting him know he could continue. “Take two of your fingers into your mouth.”

“Azriel-”

“Need you to get them nice and wet for me.”

A whimper escapes you as memories of him saying these exact words rush into your mind. He loved seeing your mouth stuffed with his fingers, your tongue swirling around them as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. You almost tell him you didn't need to get them any wetter, your cunt was quite literally dripping, but you do as he says anyway, tasting yourself on your own fingers, pretending they were his instead, making a show of sucking on them and pulling them out with a pop just so you could hear the groan he lets out, a tremble running through your body at the delicious sound.

“Done?”

“Yeah,” you muse, entirely too proud of yourself for managing to get under his skin so easily.

“Alright,” he rasps, “Now roll them around your clit slowly, pretend they're mine.” You can't help the whimper of his name, your fingers circling your clit just like he said, closing your eyes and pretending it was his rough fingers instead of yours.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, “don't even gotta tell you to moan my name.”

“I need to be quiet though,” you remind him, remind yourself. If it was simply your roommate in the room down the hall it would only be a bit embarrassing, but it's your parents instead and them hearing you would be nothing short of mortifying.

“Such a shame,” he muses, the smirk almost audible on his voice. “You always sound so pretty for me, saying my name in that sweet breathy, fucked out voice of yours.”

“Azriel,” you whine, putting more pressure behind your fingers, - you really didn't think you needed much more to cum, especially if he kept whispering in your ear like that, - breathy, quiet moans pushing past your lips despite your warning.

“Like that,” he lets out between pants, fist tightening around his cock as well, “Just like that.”

“Keep talking, Az,” you murmur, your heart stuttering in your chest with every harsh breath you hear through the speaker, wanting to hear it in his voice. “You sound pretty too.”

Azriel only hums, staying quiet for a moment longer before letting out a groan. You hear his head knock softly against his headboard as he leans back, and briefly wonder if he could hear the sinful noises your cunt was making every time your fingers moved.

“Fuck, princess. You have no idea how much I wish I could taste you right now.” You did actually, you were burning with the same need. “Wanna bury my face in that sweet pussy of yours, make you cum on my tongue over and over again until you're all I can taste.”

The moan that pushes past your lips is entirely too loud for the quietness in your house, but you can't help it as the picture he paints assaults your mind. You're reminded of the feeling of his tongue against you, lapping up at your cunt until you're shaking with pleasure under him. Gods, you couldn't wait until you saw him again next weekend.

“Wanna taste you too,” you confess, speeding up your movements, mouth watering at the thought.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Think I could cum just thinking about you choking on my cock, trying to take all of me down that tight throat of yours.” Closing your eyes and biting your lip, you do your best to keep as quiet as you can, his filthy words sinking into your bloodstream. It felt like you were on fire even though you had long since kicked your sheets off your body, - you didn't think it was possible to be this turned on alone in your room.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, a ridiculously attractive sound, “I think I might.”

“Azriel, I'm-”

“Close?”

“So close,” you pant, right on the edge, your hand moving incessantly, goosebumps running through your skin.

“I'm right there with you,” he murmurs, “Cum for me, princess. Let me hear you.”

You let yourself fall as soon as he finishes speaking, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you're hit with wave after wave of pleasure, a few whines of his name pushing past your lips despite your efforts to keep quiet, the praises he lets out going straight to your head.

Azriel cums not soon after, his own pants and muffled moans of your name echoing through the speaker as you're coming down, making you feel all tingly knowing he just came as hard as you did without you ever touching him, and still your name was on his lips. It's unfair the way this man makes you feel, even when he's so far away from you.

“I decided I'm going to lock us in your room when I get back,” you speak up after you take a deep breath, only half joking.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you continue, wiping your hand on your discarded panties, cringing softly at the feeling, knowing you have to get up and clean yourself up properly. “You're mine for the entire weekend.”

“You can lock us in for as long as you like,” he murmurs, “I'm all yours.”

[beomiracles]

⌞ 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ⌝

DREAM RECALL “You know what I think of you?” He says, the bed squeaking as he leans forward, dangerously close. “I think you’re scared.” He drawls, eyes boring into your own with such vigor that you almost felt pity for the anger that consumed him. How miserable he must be to live like that. — “I’m not scared.” You calmly state, shifting against the pillows as you instinctively try to create distance between the two of you. Quickly taking note of your hesitant body language, he smirks, “no? Then prove it.”

“Prove that you’re not afraid of the darkness, of my darkness.”

wc -> 17k (oopsie daises)

pairings stepbrother!beomgyu x stepsister!reader warnings stepcest, daddy issues, some mommy issues, character death, emo/punk!beomgyu + he has an eyebrow piercing, major asshole!beomgyu, mentions of alcoholism, lots of arguing, angsty as shit but with a happy ending, talks of grief and letting go, smut (again, stepcest), virgin!reader, loss of virginity, softdom!gyu but he's also a menace, guilt ridden sex, unprotected + pullout, handjob + vaginal fingering, some cum eating, use of "sis" both outside and during the smut (I cannot stress this enough), might be teetering on the edge of dubious consent at some points but nothing crazy. dead dove do not eat

#serene adds ✎ I have no clue of how this happened lol. PLEASE read every single warning I am begging you. don't read this if as much as one single tag made you waver. ⎯ aside from like the fact that it's stepcest, I fucking love this whole fic. I'm so proud of it and I would actually cry if someone (who got through it) would be up to share some thoughts :>

“There’s still time to turn back..” You mutter as you lean against the leather of the passenger seat. Listening to the bustling engine slowly dying out as the car comes to a stop. “Come on princess, don’t be like that.” Your dad sighs as he retrieves the key, turning it between his fingers. “You knew that this move was coming and-“ — “Yeah, I did. But not this soon, not now.” You argue, folding your arms across your chest in defiance. “You could’ve at least waited until I was out of college, until I had gotten my own place.” 

More than anything you wished to be able to change your father’s mind, to turn things back to how they were before he met Ms Choi. But that was of course impossible, and now you were paying the price for not getting a room on campus. “But look on the bright side, it’s a mere fifteen minute drive to school, and Beomgyu has his license, I’m sure he could take you someday.” Your dad tries, a small smile on his face. — You grimaced at the name, your chest churning in disgust at the mere thought of sharing a car with that thing. 

A tap to your window makes you turn your head in its direction. There stood Ms Choi, she sends you a small wave and before you know it, your father had climbed out of the vehicle, leaving you to sulk. Their voices are muffled through the thick glass but you can see them enveloping each other in a tender hug, your dad leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. With a small grimace your gaze flickers to the small bracelet around your wrist, its fine silver glinting in the sun and your chest contracts slightly. You supposed you should feel happy for him, it had been a long time since you’d last seen your father so at ease, so in love.  

And it wasn’t like you didn’t like his new girlfriend, no you were quite fond of Ms Choi. She was nice, often bringing freshly baked cookies whenever she came over, remembering your favorite foods as she made them when you visited. Most importantly she made your dad feel things he hadn’t felt since the passing of your mother. — You just couldn’t understand how such a sweet woman had managed to raise such a being of a son. 

Beomgyu was far from anything his mother represented. He was loud, obnoxiously so, his foul mouth going off every other second, spewing his hatred for the world and the people in it. Beomgyu listened to deranged music, the kind that made your ears bleed. He blamed his father for all his problems, not to mention taking his pent up anger out on his sweet mom. — The black charcoal around his eyes represented that of the rotting darkness slowly eating away at his soul, and you wondered if Beomgyu had always been angry. Perhaps he came out like that, you were almost certain that he was a menace even as a small baby. 

You had been to Ms Choi’s house a handful of times. It was a small two story flat, neatly decorated in light and inviting shades and smelled of roses. Had it not been for the first room to the right on the second floor, you would’ve probably loved it there. — The small hallway is familiar as you stumble inside, a heavy suitcase clutched tightly in your grasp. “Oh dear, let me help you with that”, Ms Choi fusses as she reaches for your bag but you merely shake your head, “I’m fine miss, don’t worry”, you assure her. 

She turns to your dad who was carrying at least twice your baggage as he walked up the dainty pathway leading to the house. “Beomgyu ought to come down and be of some assistance”, she murmurs as she throws a glance over her shoulder, her eyes traveling up the staircase by the end of the hall. — “I’m sure we’ll be fine!” You quickly chirp, dreading the thought of having to deal with him so soon. But there was no changing Ms Choi’s mind as she immediately calls out for her nuisance of a son. 

You swallow thickly as an eerie silence follows, your dads girlfriend huffs out a short breath as she fiddles with the jewelry around her neck. “Beomgyu! Come down here!” The nervous edge to her voice was palpable and part of you took pity on the sweet lady for being stuck with such a being in her house, no less as her biological child. 

Soon the floorboards above you creak, the old house immediately giving away the presence of someone else on the top floor. You tried tearing your gaze from the stairs, but it seemed impossible as Beomgyu’s figure emerged. His step is heavy as he drags his feet across the floor, his hair had grown longer since last you’d seen him, and that was over four months ago. You often did your best in avoiding him, thus leading the two of you to meeting less than a dozen times during the two years in which your parents had been pursuing one another. Well to hell with that plan now, you thought. 

“Hi darling, why don’t you say hi to-” — “I know who she is.” He cuts her off, sparing you a mere side glance before his gaze shifts to your dad struggling with the suitcases, a look of distaste on his face. “A-Alright”, Ms Choi clears her throat as she motions toward your father, “why don’t you help bring their stuff inside.” She receives only a small huff from her son as Beomgyu pushes past the two of you to venture outside. You don’t miss the flicker of disappointment on his mother’s face. No matter what he did, she would always cherish and protect him. You couldn’t understand why. — She turns to you with an apologetic smile, “your room is down the hall to the right.” 

The stairs felt eternal as you pulled your suitcase up, intent on not needing any extra hands. And when you finally reach flat ground, you heave a sigh. Though the comforting peace was short-lived as the thumping beat of a heavy bass filled your eardrums, the sound overpowering that of the wheels on your suitcase as you rolled it along the wooden floor. With a frown you near the first door, it was slightly ajar, allowing for the ear piercing music to float out into the small corridor. Already familiar with the layout of the house, you recognized the room as Beomgyu’s, and as the owner in question was currently downstairs, you dared a small peek. 

You can’t remember actually being inside his room, merely passing it in search for the bathroom as the first floor lacked one. And it was unlike anything the rest of the house represented. It was messy and crammed. The once cream white walls were covered in a variety of posters portraying his favorite bands, one of which you guessed to currently be playing through the large speakers by his desk. — His bed looked as if it hadn’t been made in weeks, possibly months and he seemed to be making good use of his floor as an alternate wardrobe. His computer was on as well, the bright light of the screen catching your attention in the otherwise dim room as the curtains drawn prevented much sunlight from reaching through. 

Upon closer inspection your eyes widen as you realize what kind of video was playing. The almost naked woman in the footage emits a pornographic moan and your jaw slacks as you take a couple of steps back in complete disbelief. — The room was like a tainted mark left on an otherwise clean canvas. The black lungs of a smoker, rotten and decaying. The only flaw in an otherwise picture perfect home, and you would’ve probably pitied the poor soul living here had it not been Choi Beomgyu. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

The raspy voice sends a shiver down your spine as you twist on the spot, coming face to face with the inhabitant of the room you’d invaded. Beomgyu lingers in the doorway, your discarded suitcase lazily kicked to the side as his brows furrow, the glinting metal on one of them catching your eye, had he always had that piercing? — You gulp, fists clenching before relaxing again. 

“I uh…I was.. I was looking for my room..” The excuse was petty, and you knew he could tell by the way his lips pulled into a small grimace. “Well this certainly isn’t it.” He spits, taking a charging step forward and you feel yourself immediately faltering back against his desk. — “Out.” He grits, and you could’ve sworn you heard the way his teeth ground together as his jaw flexed.

Not having to be told twice, you quickly slip out of the room, the door being slammed shut on your ass in a mere second. “What a dick”, you mutter, though you supposed it was somewhat deserved as you went in his room without permission. — Your own bedroom, on the other hand, matched the rest of the house. It was small, barely fitting your bed and a study desk, but the window gazing out over the front yard was remarkable. Your fingers graze along the lace curtains as you think of the multiple ways in which you’d be able to decorate the tiny space. Perhaps living here could become somewhat bearable, you thought. 

⸝⸝

No. You quickly found that it would become most unbearable to thrive under this roof. Dinner was awkward. As awkward as it could possibly get. The air was dense, laying on top of your table like a thick blanket, enveloping your party of four in a stale silence. The sounds of silverware scraping against porcelain plates fill the dainty dining room. Every bite felt like a piece of rock sliding down your throat and no matter how hard you trained your gaze to the cut piece of meat in front of you, Beomgyu’s eyes felt like daggers on your skin. Was he still mad about earlier? 

“So, Beomgyu, I hear you’re about to start your senior year as well.” Your father clears his throat, turning to the younger male with a small smile. Beomgyu’s gaze finally shifts away from your near sweating figure and over to your dad as he sends him an almost unnoticeable nod. The statement made your eyebrows raise in surprise, he was a year older than you, shouldn’t he have graduated before summer? — Beomgyu answers your unspoken question in a bored sigh, “failed my last year.” 

“Oh but he’s worked hard to be able to retake his classes this upcoming semester!” His mother suddenly butts in as she places a hand on top of your father’s. You watch their small exchange before your eyes flit over to Beomgyu who looked almost disgusted at the close proximity your parents held. Of course he would be against it, you wondered if there was anything that didn’t make his nose scrunch up in disdain. 

“Then perhaps the two of you can study together?” Ms Choi suddenly exclaims as she looks to you with an expression best described as hopeful. “Your father tells me you do well in school.” — “Of course, my princess is in the top of her class”, your dad boasts as he flashes you a small grin. You sheepishly nod, cheeks reddening at the sudden attention directed your way. “Why, isn’t that an amazing idea, Beom?” His mother cheers to which her son grimaces, “wonderful.” 

You didn’t like Beomgyu. And you thought you had every reason not to. You had never met someone so completely disregarding of other people’s feelings. Someone so selfish and arrogant, someone who took so much for granted. Like his mom. — You supposed you envied him a little. Ms Choi was such a wonderful person, not to mention an amazing mother. You often found yourself reminiscing of what you’d lost when in her presence. But Beomgyu seemed to hold little affection for something you longed so desperately to have. — You remember the evening clearly, the first night you met, two years ago. 

Dinner was awkward even back then. 

You’re sat gathered around the very same table, in the very same seats. Back then you had a small crush on him, on Beomgyu. How could you not? He was everything you weren’t, everything you thought you wanted to be. The expressive t-shirt he wore, a band you didn’t recognize, but you guessed it to be some type of rock. His slightly baggy jeans, decorated with a few simple chains. Dark hair, though it was shorter back then, and of course, the liner around his eyes. It was impossible not to be drawn to him. But he didn’t look at you, not once. 

You helped your dad clear the table whilst Beomgyu accompanied his mom in the kitchen as she prepared dessert. “What do you think of her?” Your father asks with a hopeful smile. You knew that he was nervous about introducing someone new to you, and Ms Choi would be the first woman he’d seen since your mother’s passing. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that your approval weighed like a ton of bricks on your dads shoulders, and you didn’t want to let him down. 

“She seems sweet.” 

He sighs, a relieved sigh. “Do you like her?” You ask, unable to hide the small frown on your face. Your father remains silent for a moment, his hands busying themselves with stacking the plates on top of one another. “I do”, he nods, his face immediately lighting up as he sees your small smile. But before you get another word out, the voice of Ms Choi pierces the quaint house. 

Neither of you move, but the conversation between Beomgyu and his mother was no longer private. “Well if that’s how you really feel, then perhaps you’ll find your father’s place a more suitable living space.” Ms Choi exclaims, her voice is thick, as if on the verge of breaking at any given moment. A brief silence follows her words, and you hold your breath.

“That piece of shit lowlife?” Beomgyu suddenly seethes and his mom quickly interrupts him. “Don’t call him that.” She sounds almost pleading. — Her son chuckles and if you had been able to see him, you would guess that he was shaking his head. “You still let him get away with all the shit he’s done?” — “Oh come on, you know it’s not like that, Beom..” 

“He’s an asshole, mom.” Beomgyu finally states, his voice holds no resentment, in fact it barely holds any emotion at all. “And you, you’re both naive and stupid for thinking he’s anything else.” — Then he re-emerges from the kitchen, not sparing either you or your father as much as a second glance as he heads for the front door, it slams shut behind him, leaving the faint sobs of Ms Choi to echo through the small house. 

Your dad rushes to the kitchen, but you remain frozen in place. His small whispers of reassurance carry out into the dining room as he tries to comfort the crying mess that was his girlfriend. Your eyes flit between the small opening to the kitchen and the hallway; feeling more than conflicted as you gnaw on your bottom lip.

After a few moments of hesitation, you finally come to a decision as you tear yourself from your spot by the since long vacant table. Quietly, you retrace Beomgyu’s last steps and you, too, push the heavy door open. — The cold night air hits your bare arms making you wrap them around yourself as you begin walking down the gravel pathway. You really had no idea of where he might’ve gone, or how you were even supposed to find him. But as you push the squeaking fence gate open, you know that you won’t have to look far. 

Perched on the sidewalk, knees tucked to his chest, Beomgyu leans his chin on top of his folded arms. Drawing in a small breath, you muster up the courage to do what you had come out here for. — He doesn’t say anything as you take a seat beside him, mimicking his actions by pulling your knees to your chest as you wrap your arms around them. You weren’t exactly good at comforting people, but you knew what sadness felt like, it was all you had been able to feel for three months after your mother’s death. 

“You here to fuckin’ lecture me too?” He spits, his gaze is fixed on the asphalt road in front of him. Perhaps Beomgyu’s sadness was different from yours. You shake your head, though you’re unsure if he can even see it. And for a moment, everything is silent. There was a nervous feeling bubbling within your chest, you didn’t know if it was because of your small crush on him or because of the argument you just witnessed between him and his mom. The argument sounded stupid in your ears, and it got you wondering.. 

“Why do you hate your father?” Your words ring out in the quiet night air, and somewhere to your left, you feel Beomgyu shift against the concrete sidewalk. You guess he hadn’t expected the question. — “‘Cause he’s a piece of shit.” He huffs, though his voice lacks the spite it held when in discussion with his mom. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you frown. “But he’s still your father, isn’t he?” 

Beomgyu might as well have laughed in your face. He shakes his head, one of his hands ruffling through his dark hair before he lets it fall to his side. “That changes nothing”, he states. You were tempted to disagree, it changed everything, didn’t it? To hate someone, to hate someone so close to you, someone so important.. You don’t think you could ever hate your father. 

“Have you tried talking to him?” Perhaps it was a stupid proposal, but in truth, you were at loss for ideas. Beomgyu snorts, his worn out sneakers kicking a few small rocks as he lets them roll out across the street. “You can’t talk to someone like him, and even if I could, I would have nothing to say to him.” — He draws in a sharp breath, holding it for a good moment before he slowly lets it go. “Some people..” he begins, his fingers picking at a few strands of vegetation that had managed to seep through the cracks of the constructed road. “Some people don’t deserve to have kids, some people shouldn’t have them.” 

You’re silent after that, unsure of what to say. He was right, some people were not meant to be parents. You wondered what his dad could have possibly done to warrant such hatred from his only son. It felt wrong to pry, so you didn’t. He would tell you one day, when he was ready, at least you thought so. — “But your mom is–” 

“My mom is stupid.” He spits, his expression suddenly turning sour. You didn't like how Beomgyu spoke about his mother, or how he spoke to her. “She doesn’t understand how fucked up dad is, and she still defends him despite everything he’s done.” — He bites the inside of his cheek, his brows furrowing together as his gaze remains ahead. “She’s truly pathetic.” 

Your chest churned at the statement. And perhaps your relationship with Beomgyu would’ve turned out different, had you not said your next words. But you couldn’t help it, and you didn’t regret it either. “At least you have a mother.” It angered you. It angered you that he treated people so close to him with such hatred. Did he not understand? Not everyone had the privilege of seeing their mom everyday, not everyone got to feel her warm embrace, eat her food, have her kiss your cheek. 

Beomgyu’s hatred was selfish. He was selfish. Because you would have done anything to see your mother one last time. — He turns to you, and for the first time that night, he looks at you. “And that makes you so special?” His gaze narrows down on you, the dark liner around his eyes only makes his expression look twice as gloomy. “You think you’re the only one who’s life is shit just because your mom went and died?” 

His words stung, like salt on a fresh wound, slowly being rubbed in. You fight back the tears that were prickling in the corners of your eyes. You just wanted to help. But you were obviously not very good at comforting people, still, you thought that he might’ve been at least a little understanding. How idiotic of you. Beomgyu rises to his feet, giving the gravel beneath him one final kick as it flies everywhere. 

“Don’t think you know the first thing about me just because you’ve heard me and my mom argue once.” His expression darkens even further in the pale night, and you swallow a small sob. “And don’t for a second think that we have anything in common, or that you have the right to talk to me like that.” He snaps, hands digging into the denim of his jeans, the chains on them rattling as he does. 

“It’s not my fault your mommy died, but let me give you a piece of advice yeah?” He leans down, his face inches from your own and you resist the urge to pull back, instead blinking up at him as a nasty sneer casts over his features. “Get over it.” 

With that, he straightens himself back up, letting out a small scoff as he turns on his heel before venturing down the street. — Beomgyu didn’t come back home that night, Ms Choi told you so, you didn’t know where he went, you didn’t care. From that point on, you hated Choi Beomgyu, you hated everything that was him, everything that reminded you of him. But most of all, you hated anything that made you feel like he had made you feel that night; the night he’d left you on the street to sob in your hands. 

⸝⸝

Your first official night under Ms Choi’s roof felt weird, it didn’t feel at all like home, maybe because it wasn’t, or maybe because you laid in bed with the knowledge that Beomgyu was only a room away. — It was dark, the soft glow of the moon seeping through your lace curtains. You had yet to fully unpack, your small night lamp long forgotten about in one of the boxes downstairs. The room smelled weird too, it didn’t smell like home, like mom. 

Despite it being years since she passed you often found resolve in venturing inside your parents room, the room that smelled the most of her. How you would let the tips of your fingers trail across the smooth bed sheets as you imagined her sleeping form. — The first months after her passing you even found yourself going through her old clothes, trying to keep anything that carried her scent close. But even the house itself held her presence, her laughter echoing off the walls, her soft hum as she prepared dinner, her cheerful voice as she skipped down the stairs. 

This house did not hold a single trace of your mother, she was truly gone. Your dad had moved on, he had fallen in love, he’d stopped being miserable, he no longer cried for his deceased wife in the darkest hours of night. Did that make him a bad person? You wanted to hate him for leaving your mom behind, even though she was technically the one who had left you. You wanted to tell him that he should never love a woman that wasn’t her. But you couldn’t. And you wouldn’t. — Your father was happy now. 

Perhaps Beomgyu had been right that night. Perhaps you should get over it. Perhaps you should’ve gotten over it a long time ago. But you didn’t want to, because getting over it meant letting go, letting go of your mom, and you didn’t want that. She was your mom.

Your fingers instinctively reach for the bracelet around your wrist, fiddling with the silver anxiously. This was your last piece of her, your last line, the string that still connected you to her. — You treasured it dearly yet you couldn’t but feel almost melancholic whenever you turned the jewelry around in your hands, an immense wave of sadness washing over you as the small piece kept reminding you of what you’d lost. 

You shake the tears away, sitting up as you lean against the bed frame. You wouldn’t cry tonight, you wouldn’t allow that. Instead your mind wanders down the hall, down to the room on your left. You wondered what Beomgyu was up to, was he already asleep? Maybe he was feeling restless too.. “What the fuck”, you scoff, shaking your head at the glimpse of sincerity you cast his way. Having already gone through with that mistake once, you would be sure to not make it again. Beomgyu didn’t deserve your sympathy. 

He didn’t deserve anything. 

⸝⸝

The following weeks went by in almost a blur. Your dad and you got settled in quickly, and with the help of Ms Choi, you now had a wildflower blooming by the sill of your window. Not to mention the pink rug you had so carefully picked out as you laid it in the center of your room. — But happiest was probably your father. It was sweet, seeing how giddy he got whenever the new woman in his life was around, you liked watching him fall in love. And without you even realizing it, the small house soon began to feel like home. 

Even you and Beomgyu got along fine, if getting along was what you could call it. You had silently conducted a small routine which was to be strictly followed by the two of you. It helped ensure that you wouldn’t have to run into one another more than absolutely necessary. — First, you always used the bathroom at seven. He was never up by then and you enjoyed having free access to both the shower and toilet as you took your time getting ready for the day. 

Second, your rooms were strictly prohibited areas, under no circumstances were you allowed to step foot inside his personal space, nor was he to do so in yours. That didn’t change the fact that he would continuously blast his ear screeching music so loud that the floorboards thumped in rhythm to the beat. Nor did it change the way you threw your hairbrush against the wall in an attempt to get him to shut up, not that it ever proved successful. 

Third, and perhaps the most important one; you did not know each other outside of home. Senior year in college started about two weeks ago, and within the four confined walls of the school building, you and Beomgyu were nothing but mere strangers. Not that the same couldn’t be said for the way you treated each other back at home. Which leads you on to another unspoken rule, the rule that made your parents believe that you got along just fine. 

You think it was said last rule that made everything come crumbling down one October night. 

“A whole week?” You splutter, your fork slipping from your grasp and hitting the porcelain plate in front of you. Ms Choi makes a small grimace at your blunt shock but quickly masks it with a smile, “yes, me and your father were thinking..” — “Come on princess”, your dad interrupts, leaning forward ever so slightly. “You’re more than old enough to sit the house for a week, besides, we’ve been meaning to get some alone time.” He sends you a look that practically screams, “don’t fuck this up for me, alright?” 

With a small groan you nod, “yeah it’s alright I suppose.” But it wasn’t, in fact it was far from it. This meant that you would have to spend a full seven days, locked up in the same house as Beomgyu, with no one to save you. “Is this what people call dark humor?” You mutter, though not loud enough for anyone to pick up on, at least you thought they couldn’t. Opposite you, Beomgyu’s lip twitches as his tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, his fingers playing with the rings on his hands; clearly not oblivious to your small comment. 

“I’m sure they’ll be fine”, Ms Choi adds in a most lighthearted tone. Your dad slowly nods as his gaze flits between you and Beomgyu, watching as you both turned to shoot him a small smile. 

⸝⸝

“And don’t forget to lock the door, oh and I’ve written down all the emergency numbers on a piece of paper plastered on the fridge, and there’s–” — “Dad, I’m fine.” You take his hands in yours, giving them a light squeeze and your father grins, “right, sorry princess.” He throws a quick glance over his shoulder to where Ms Choi was waiting by the car, having already shared a most quick farwell with her son. 

“Go, I’ll be okay”, you sigh as you urge him toward the door. “Alright, alright, just promise to call if anything happens.” He pleads as he ruffles your already disheveled hair due to the amount of hugs he had insisted on. You give him an affirmative nod as he steps out. “Love you, princess!” Is the last thing he gets out before you close the front door in his face, worried that you might never have him leave if you didn’t. The hallway quickly becomes enveloped in a near deafening silence, the emptiness of the house palpable. But the short-lived peace would soon be disrupted. 

“Fuck, are you fourteen or twenty?” Beomgyu jeers as he leans against the doorframe leading into the living room, arms folded across his torso. He’s dressed in a pair of loose jeans that hung low on his waist, and had it not been for the even baggier t-shirt thrown on his chest, you would’ve probably caught more than a glimpse of his stomach. The piece of jewelry on his eyebrow glints in the faint morning light as he sends you a small frown. 

It was too early for any of his snarky remarks, you thought as you swallowed a deep breath. Just ignore him, don’t bite back, that’s what he wants. But as you watch his conceding smirk practically double in size at your silence, you find yourself unable to hold back. “Well at least I talk to him.” It was a low blow, and you knew it. You didn’t care, for the way his face dropped, if only for a brief moment, made it all worth it. 

Beomgyu was quick to hide his initial surprise as he shifted against the doorframe, his dark eyes narrowing down on you. “It’s hardly like you’ve got anyone else to confide in”, he drawls, and you bite the inside of your cheek at his subtle acknowledgement of the lunches you spent alone in the school cafeteria. Your fists clench, your anger on the verge of slipping past the weakening brims of your control. 

“You think you’re so much better, huh?” Your angered huff is met by a low chuckle but before he gets a reply out, you cut him off. “I’m not the one retaking a whole year of college, I mean, I knew you were stupid, but this exceeds any of my previous assumptions.” The words slipped from your lips without you being able to stop them, and it felt good, really good. Beomgyu’s jaw visibly clenches at the insult thrown his way, the arms over his chest flexing as his body tensed. 

Feeling almost high off of the harsh remarks, you continue. “Let’s not even bring up your mom. You can barely look her in the eyes, you treat her like absolute shit, and at your grown age too.” — It’s his turn to flare up now, his previously stunned expression immediately morphing into a scowl as he charges forward. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about her in front of me.” He seethes, teeth grinding against each other as he reaches you, his fingers wrapping around the collar of your blouse as he shoves you against the wall with a thud. 

For the two years in which you had known Beomgyu, sorry, been acquainted with, you don’t think the two of you had ever as much as even shook hands, much less hugged. But now his face was only inches from yours, burning with so much rage that you thought you might just combust into a pile of ashes on the floor. His chest heaves, and his grip on your shirt is near deadly as he yanks the fabric up, his taller frame looming over your own. 

You scoff, trying to mask the unease that immediately surged within your chest at his close proximity. “See? Can’t even bring your mom up without you throwing a hissy fit", you jeer. — The scowl once on his lips, slowly turns into a sneer, a sly look emerging on his face, like you had just said exactly what he needed to hear, given him the opportunity he’d been searching for. 

His breath is warm on your already hot body as he speaks. “Well it’s not exactly like you’re any better.” You catch his tongue dragging across his bottom lip, as if savouring the moment, his eyes focused solely on the way your once stoic expression fell. “Can’t even mention her without you bursting out into tears.” — You open your mouth to object, your brows furrowing at the accusation but he’s quicker, shamelessly cutting you off to get his point across. “There’s no use in denying it. Don’t you think I’ve heard you? Crying in your room late at night, crying for your dead mommy.”

His gaze snaps to your wrist, hand darting out to grab ahold of it as his thumb slides across the bracelet resting there. “And this? A souvenir of her death? That’s pathetic.” He cocks his head to the side, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. “It’s like a child sleeping with stuffed toys”, he sneers, letting go of you with a small grimace before his grip returns to the collar of your shirt. 

You hated the way your teary eyes almost immediately gave you away, and you fervently tried to blink them away; much to no avail as Beomgyu chuckled. “Did I hit a nerve?” He wonders, voice laced with fabricated pity. It made you sick to your stomach. — “Sorry, princess”, he coos, but nothing about the way he gripped onto your flimsy blouse made for a convincing apology. Your eyes narrow at the familiar nickname and his smirk only widens. “Isn’t that what your daddy would say? Princess?” 

Hearing the name you treasured so dearly coming from his mouth, the word tainted with his hatred and evil, it made you bite the inside of your lip, hard. “What? Don’t like it?” He hums, his fingers on your shirt loosening, if only slightly as he leans even closer. It was easy to make out the details of his face now, the piercing stuck through the skin of his eyebrow, the area slightly red, as if irritated. The dark charcoal around his eyes, you wondered if he slept in it, probably. You will your gaze to stay locked with his, not daring to glance down at his lips. 

“Then what should I call you? Sis? Sister? Little Sister?” He looks almost as if he’s about to burst into laughter and you wanted nothing more than to slap that disgusting smirk from his face. “I’m not your sister.” You state, refusing to ever be perceived in such a way. — Beomgyu let’s his head fall to the side, his brows raising in a flicker of surprise. “But we’re family now, aren’t we?” 

You close your eyes, thinking that maybe if you just pretended that he wasn’t there for an extended period of time, he might actually disappear. But once you reopen them, you find him still watching you, his smirk stretched so wide that he almost appeared uncanny. “You don’t know the first thing about what makes a family.” You let your words linger in the now very thick air, watching with an almost gleeful expression as Beomgyu lets out a small scoff, though leaning back as he lets go of your shirt. 

“Quit trying to act like you’ve got me all figured out.” Is all he says, his voice now eerily calm, a kind of calm that makes your blood run cold. — “Then quit acting like such a terrible person, and maybe people would start seeing you for something else.” You mutter, your words not intended for his ears to catch, but they do. His gaze flickers over your body, pressed against the wall in an attempt to create as much space between the two of you as humanly possible. 

He shakes his head, his lip twitching as he runs a hand through his long hair. “How about you quit trying to act like you know what makes a terrible person.” — His words leave you silenced long enough for him to make his escape as he heads for the staircase. The last thing you see is his dark retreating figure, the sound of him trudging up the steps filling the house. You slump against the wall, letting out a shaky exhale as you let your eyes fall closed, already dreading the week ahead. 

⸝⸝

To your surprise, day one and two went by like usual, with the absence of your father and Ms Choi of course. You and Beomgyu managed to avoid one another just like normal, and whilst you ate dinner downstairs, he always brought his food to his room. Sometimes it was almost as if you were living alone, you had the whole house pretty much to yourself and you often took the opportunity to lounge by the sofa in the living room. 

After your fight two days ago, part of you had thought that things might worsen even further between the two of you. But if anything, you’d seen even less of him than you usually would and you think you could count the interactions you’d shared with him on your fingers. 

Your whole body feels heavy as your head hits the pillow that night. Four more days, you tell yourself. You could do four more days. All you had to do was keep up the role you’d been playing for the past three days. 

And as you lay in bed, you let your thoughts wander, wander to your dad. The two of you engaged in shorter calls every evening. It was a nice distraction from your otherwise plaguing reality. Your father told you about the beach, the ocean and the seashells; he and Ms Choi were staying at a hotel by the seaside for the week, and you felt your heart swell at the excitement in his voice. 

“You’ll have to come with us next time!” He exclaimed, the powerful winds surrounding him made his words come out jagged on the other end of the line. Still, you thought you were able to make out the faint sounds of waves crashing against the shore as he walked along the water. — “I’d be happy to”, you agree, a small grin playing on your lips at the thought of going on vacation with your dad again, it had been so long. 

Soon Ms Choi joins your conversation, you hear them share a quick kiss before her tender voice addresses you. “How’s Beomgyu doing dear?” She wonders and your smile immediately falters at the mention of his name. You bite your lip, unsure of what to say, did she not talk to him, not at all, not once? — In the end, you settle for something for half a lie and half a truth. “He’s doing fine.” 

Your dads girlfriend exhales on the other line as she thanks you. “Are you two getting along well?” Your father asks, a hint of suspicion following his inquiry. Even though Ms Choi was quick to defend her son, your dad still seemed to hold back when it came to him, if only slightly. “We’re doing just fine.” You lied, not wanting to address just how awkward things were and how you most definitely wanted them to return home as soon as possible. You wouldn’t ruin your dads shot at happiness just to soothe your own worries. 

But as night approaches, the faint glow of the moon seeping through your thin curtains, you find yourself unable to sleep. Though this time, it’s not because of your reeling mind, rather a faint noise coming from the room down the hall and to your left. — During your previous nights, the house had been eerily silent, almost deafening as it added to the feeling of you living there alone. And Beomgyu was not one to play music at such an hour, even though he was likely still very much awake. 

With a small frown you sit up, fingers grasping the bed sheets beneath you as you shift on the mattress. It was near impossible to make out any details regarding the noise, only a hushed sequence here and there could be heard and your frown deepens. But your desire for a full night’s sleep quickly overweighs any doubt as you’re reminded of the early morning class you had the following day, and the bed squeaks as you gingerly climb off of it, quietly venturing out into the dark hallway to face whatever awaits you. 

You’re able to locate the source of the sound as soon as you step out into the dark hall, and your throat goes dry as your eyes seize the door leading to Beomgyu’s bedroom. — The floorboards creak under your weight, making you freeze as you listen for a shift in the noise coming from his room, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed. 

Carefully you creep forward, a hand on the wall to guide you as you near your target. The closer you get the clearer the noise gets, and for a moment you wondered if he was hurt as deep grunt-like sounds slipped through the crack of the wooden door. What would you even tell him? Biting the inside of your cheek, you shake your head. Just yell at him, cause a scene, do something.

Your fingers are wrapped around the door handle when you suddenly stop, your heart practically leaping out of your chest as a small moan reaches your ears. Stunned, you remain frozen in place as you listen to the ragged breathing of Beomgyu, coming from inside his bedroom and your foggy brain slowly pieces together what he was up to. A wave of disgust washes over you, perhaps even embarrassment at having caught him doing something like that. 

It takes you about half a minute to snap out of your initial shock, eyes darting back down the hall as you plan to make your escape, because there was no way you were going to let him know that you’d heard him. But just as you turn around to head back to safety, a deep groan makes you halt. “Mhhn fuck”, Beomgyu grunts, his voice muffled by the wall separating you but you clearly catch the ragged moan following the curse. 

You thought you could make out something else in the far background, a faint whisper of someone else. He hadn’t brought someone over had he? No, that’s impossible, you would’ve known. And soon the all too familiar and almost theatrical moan of a woman pierces the air.

Teeth latching on to your bottom lip, you stand torn, your brain desperately yelling for you to leave, to forget that any of this ever happened, to not pry further and spare your last bits of sanity. But another part of you, a far more sinister one, keeps your body locked in place, making you unable to move neither forward nor back; forcing you to listen as your Beomgyu gets off to some cheap porn video in his room.

You felt dirty just by hearing him, but the other part of you felt something dangerously close to excitement, your heart thumping unmistakably faster as your gaze flickers back toward his shut door. 

“H-ah..” He breathes and you swallow a gulp, sweat sliding down your forehead at the strange feelings swirling inside of you. Your hands clench at your sides, shivers rippling through your body as you hold your tongue, terrified of making your presence known. — He should be ashamed, not you, you had merely passed by, right? So why did you feel so bashful standing here, right outside his room, in the middle of the night, like some creep. 

“Mhhn fucking hell”, he croaks and you screw your eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the images playing in front of you like that of an old film. Images of him, his head thrown back, his lips slightly parted, lidded eyes and his hand… his hand wrapped around– “Oh my god”, you breathe, bracing yourself against the wall as your head falls forward. You had to get out of here. 

⸝⸝

Disgusting. That’s what he was. Not only a loathsome person but a pervert too. And as you walk down the familiar street, your school bag flung over your shoulder, you think of ways to confront him about his behavior. He was in the wrong here, not you. Besides, your request for him to keep it down at night was reasonable. 

The wooden fence gate feels rough under the tips of your fingers as you push it open, your eyes falling on the quaint house before you. The gravel makes a crunching noise beneath your shoes as you near the front door, the lump in your throat only growing in size. — It was such a pretty house, and to think that something so dark resided within its walls made you sick. Still, you unlock the old door and make your way inside. 

The familiar scent of roses invades your senses almost immediately and you take pride in the comforting smell, allowing yourself to just stay for a moment. You knew that he was home already, having spotted his car on your way back, and it didn’t exactly take a genius to figure out where he was currently lounging at. — Discarding your bag alongside your shoes, you begin the small journey up the stairs, not planning on prolonging the inevitable conversation. 

The blaring music fills your ears as soon as you reach the top step and you heave a sigh. You could do this, you wouldn’t back down. — The first knock is petty, weak, barely audible over the heavy bass thumping on the other side. You bite your lip, raising your fist once more, this time you give the wood a harsher tap. But still, nothing. You stand there for a moment, listening to the unfamiliar song playing and you wonder why he felt the need to drown himself in music as vile as that. Perhaps it was to quiet the undeniably gruesome thoughts you could only imagine filled his mind. 

“Beomgyu!” You shout his name, knuckles near hurting as they pound the door in front of you. Finally, the loud melody comes to an abrupt halt and you can hear him shuffling about inside his room, the soft padding of footsteps approaching and soon he reveals himself. — He looks the same as he always did, as he always had. Except he looks…different. You think it might have something to do with what you had heard him do the previous night. Because something was different, something was no longer the same. 

“What do you want?” He spits, the words sound almost like an accusation and you watch as his brows furrow, dark gaze narrowing down on you. Suddenly, you feel your composure crumble, the phrases you’d gone over in your head so many times on the way back home suddenly diminishing to nothing as you stand before him. Your lips part, for whatever excuse you could possibly find but Beomgyu beats you to the case. 

“If you’re here to complain about how you miss your daddy then I don’t give a shit.” 

Your mouth closes again, your brows mimicking his frown as you peer up at him. Is that what he thinks of you? Is that how he perceives you? As nothing more but a crybaby who can’t go a day without her father, who sobs herself to sleep in the absence of her mother? — “That’s not why I–” — “Like I said”, he cuts you off, his gaze hardening, “I don’t give a shit.” 

The grimace painting your face is surely unmistakable and your fists clench as you swallow back the insults waiting on your tongue. “Well I do”, you say, masking your otherwise trembling voice with firmness as you maintain the tense eye contact. Beomgyu appears, if not surprised then at least taken aback, his lip twitching as he lets out a short huff. He folds his arms over his chest, covering the print on his black t-shirt, seemingly waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m here to…to ask you..” You find yourself stumbling over your rehearsed lines, mind fumbling for a way to approach the situation without making it awkward for the both of you. Not wanting him to know that you’d heard him but also wanting him to be aware of the fact that you knew exactly what he’d been up to. — “What I want to say is, please keep it down..at…at night, some of us are trying to sleep you know..” 

Carefully you peek up at him, trying your hardest to subtly gauge his reaction. But Beomgyu only hums, his brows raising in play-pretend surprise as he leans against the doorframe. “Keep what down? It’s not exactly like I’m blasting music or anythin’” he muses. You shake your head, “that’s not what I’m asking, I’m asking you to keep it down when…when y-you you know..” 

The smirk slowly etching its way to his lips should’ve told you everything you needed to know. That he was just looking for ways to push you further, to rile you up and get you flustered, but for some reason it didn’t, and you kept going. — “When I what?” He wonders, eyes flickering over your guarded stance as you awkwardly shift in front of him, letting your weight fall on one leg. “Come on, you know what I mean”, you practically whine, not caring about how immature and childish you sounded as you avoided actually uttering the words out loud. 

“When I jack off?” He asks, his tone nonchalant as his hands slide down the pockets of his already low hanging jeans. You meekly nod, gaze dropping to the floor as your cheeks flush with color. “Y-Yeah that…you’re kind of..loud”, you cough, anxiously crossing your arms over your chest as you clear your throat. 

Beomgyu seems to be considering your words for a moment, his attention fixed on something behind you as he quietly hums. But then he leans forward, his face landing almost inches from your own and you can clearly see the smudged liner around his eyes now. “And you’ve got a problem with that?” He tilts his head to the side, studying you expectantly. 

“Come on now, sis”, he drawls and you cringe, hating how the word sounded on his lips. “You can’t possibly tell me that you’re not twice as loud when you touch yourself.” — The statement made your eyes blow wide as your jaw slacked. Feebly you shake your head in an attempt to deny his accusations. “I- No!” You shriek, taking a small step back as your hands wave in objection. “I don’t– I don’t do stuff…stuff like that..” 

Beomgyu’s smirk widens as he watches your apprehensive response, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Stuff like that?” He repeats, the sentence sickly sweet on his tongue. “You mean you’ve never played with yourself like that? How dull.” — You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling beyond parched as you shake your head once more. Was that so bad? Did that make you so different? You’d never understood the appeal, never felt those feelings, never even had a boyfriend. It shouldn’t matter should it? 

So why did it make Beomgyu look at you like that? Like you had just become something completely different in his eyes, something prized, something desirable. “Really?” He repeats, as if unbelieving of what he was currently hearing. Your quiet “no” is met by an even more menacing smirk as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek. 

“Why, your daddy must be real’ proud of you then”, he grins and you feel your stomach twist. — “N-No he doesn’t care about stuff like that.” Because why would he? He was your father, sure you were close but some things were better off kept private. But it seemed no matter what you said could make the hungry look in his gaze go away and you felt your heart rate increase tenfold. 

Beomgyu merely scoffs, clearly not buying your truths. “Well then your daddy doesn’t know how much of life his daughter is truly missing out on.” — You frown, straightening your back if only slightly as you regard him with a hint of determination. “I’m not missing out on anything, to be frank, I’m quite happy the way I am right now.” You give a short pause, stopping only to give him a quick one over. “Not that the same can be said for you.” 

It feels good to watch his once smug expression morph into a much more scowl-like one as he lets out a short huff. When he doesn’t say anything, you feel a proud smirk crawling its way to your lips and you barely manage to conceal it as you turn to walk back to your room. — Only when you’ve reached your door, does he speak again, and you’re surprised to find him still lingering by his own doorway. 

“Do happy people cry everyday too, or is that just you?” 

⸝⸝

You’re unable to get his words out of your mind and you spend the majority of the following night mulling over them. “Do happy people cry everyday?” Do they? Was crying necessarily a bad thing? People cry when they’re happy too, people cry for a variety of reasons. Some merely sniffle,  some sob whilst others practically scream. Could happiness really be measured in tears or was that just something he’d said to get on your nerves, to have the last word? 

You lay tossing and turning in bed, your blanket bunching up around your legs before you eventually kicked it off again. — If only your mom was still around, she would be sure to have an answer, for she always did.. You nod to yourself as you mindlessly fiddle with the bracelet around your wrist.

Perhaps you were over analyzing his words, twisting and turning something completely meaningless for hours on end. But it was the only way you’d be able to feel at ease. You had a habit of trying to understand things on a deeper level, knowledge comforted you. It was why you nearly drowned yourself in your studies, why you spent so much time indulging in literature or film. It was your escape. 

Part of you supposed you should have Beomgyu completely figured out by now, with the way you memorized each snarky comment of his. But you never did, it felt like you knew nothing about him yet everything all at once. Maybe your knowledge of him was biased. You’d been quick to snap his picture, to paint a vision of him so sinister that you found it hard to view him any differently. — In your eyes, Beomgyu was a selfish and bad person, a person who did not feel empathy nor compassion for others. And perhaps that was why your theories about him seemed to lead you down the same path each time. 

But you didn't think that you were a close minded person… Was there really something you had missed, something you had overlooked? Was there more to Beomgyu than he let on to? 

You don’t have to ponder much longer for a quiet knock to your door rips you from the deep thoughts previously consuming your mind. With a small flinch you shot up from your bed, crawling back against the headboard as your eyes trained on the entryway to your room. For a moment you think it might be an intruder, but what kind of thief would knock? — Not only knock but proceed to open the door without waiting for a reply. You only knew one person so unthoughtful. 

Beomgyu’s shadow is dark, shielded from the dim luminance of the moon mere feet away from him as he stands in the doorway. One step forward would reveal his face entirely, and you find yourself both longing and dreading for him to move. — Why was he here? You guys made sure to avoid one another diligently so why was he willingly ruining it? 

“I can help you.” 

His voice is low, but he speaks clearly. A crease runs along your forehead as your brows pull into a frown. “Help me?” You repeat, the confusion evident in your tone as you shift against the pillow behind your back. Beomgyu nods, taking a bold step forward which casts an eerie glow across the side of his face. Your gaze flickers from his intense and dark eyes to his lips, pulled into a small smirk and your stomach drops. 

You knew why he was here. Because what other motive could he possibly have? — You had seen the way he treated those around him, you had witnessed the effect he had on his mom as she fell to her knees in tears, the way his words had sliced through you like daggers of a knife, shamelessly cutting your barely healed skin. Beomgyu made things around him die, every touch of his was poison, lethal. And now he had come to kill you too. 

It wasn’t like his sudden change in demeanor was unexpected, you knew that he was capable of breaking things, breaking people. He had just never paid you much attention because he thought you were already broken. The death of your mother slowly eating you away as you cried for her each night. — But you can tell he’s had a change of heart, the way his eyes rake across your body, barely concealed by the flimsy pajamas you wore, untainted, untouched, pure. Ready for him to kill. 

“I don’t need your help.” You try to evade him off, convince him that you were no object of his affection. But it was impossible. Beomgyu shakes his head, slowly approaching your bed before he takes a seat, causing the cushion beneath him to dip slightly. — “You don’t even know what I’m about to offer you”, he muses, fingers trailing up your exposed leg and you quickly withdraw it, stuffing it beneath the blanket. 

“I know that I do not need it”, you bite back, twisting your body as far away from him as possible. He huffs out a short breath, biting the inside of his cheek, seemingly in deep thought. You peer at him through the corner of your eye, lips curling into a small grimace. — “Do you plan on living in the dark forever then?” He finally wonders, his voice a mere murmur and you frown. “I could show you, show you the light”, he hums, fingers drumming against the mattress leisurely. 

You’re unable to hide the scoff you emit before turning back to face him. “You couldn’t find light if it so much as presented itself in front of you.” Beomgyu’s jaw visibly clenches at your words, his hand stilling against the bed as his gaze flickers up to meet yours, an underlying twinge of curiosity lingering behind his otherwise cold and emotionless eyes. —  “No? And why’s that?” 

Your lip twitches, a small grimace of pure disgust threatening to overtake your entire face as you regard him with disdain. “Because something as dark and twisted as you cannot possibly seek light. You repell it.” 

The last sentence rings out in the silent air, and you watch as the intrigue in his eyes becomes put out like that of a dying fire. His expression contorted into the one you knew so well, the cruel one, the one that hurt people. “What, and you think you’re some kind of saint?” He jeers, trying to mask where your words had evidently stung. — Were you a saint? Hardly. But you didn’t hurt the people around you just because you could, just because life had treated you unfairly. That was the difference between you and Beomgyu. 

“You know what I think of you?” He says, the bed squeaking as he leans forward, dangerously close. “I think you’re scared.” He drawls, eyes boring into your own with so much vigor that you almost felt pity for the anger that consumed him. How miserable he must be to live like that. — “I’m not scared.” You calmly state, shifting against the pillows as you instinctively try to create distance between the two of you. Quickly taking note of your hesitant body language, he smirks, “no? Then prove it.”

“Prove that you’re not afraid of the darkness, of my darkness.” 

You remain silent for a moment, watching as he awaits your answer, your next course of action. Was this a bad idea? Probably. You had told yourself over and over that you wouldn’t let yourself get consumed by him, become tainted by his flawed hands. Yet you find yourself reaching for the blanket covering your body, pulling it from your legs as you discard it on the floor. Beomgyu follows the movement with an amused look, an almost wicked one before his smokey eyes snap back to yours. 

“Fine”, you say, adjusting yourself on the bed as you let your hands fall to your sides, “show me.” The simple statement makes his face twist into a look of pure smugness and Beomgyu wastes no time in scooting closer, fingers wrapping around both of your wrists as he positions himself before you. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me”, he murmurs, his lip twitching into a sinister grin as he does. It was almost as if your obliviousness spurred him on, your naivety making his mind reel. 

His breath is warm on your face as he studies you closely, from the way blood rushes beneath your cheeks to your eyelashes fluttering as you try to focus with him so close. “Have you ever kissed someone before?” He asks, the underlying curiosity in his words palpable. You try to think of any occasion in which you might’ve, but after a good moment you shake your head. “Only once…in middle school, a smell peck on the lips..” You admit, albeit a little sheepishly. 

The smirk on his face only widened, exposing his sharp teeth as Beomgyu chuckled. “That doesn’t count”, he states, seemingly pleased with your answer, with your honesty, your trust. Biting your bottom lip, you swallow before nodding slowly. “I’ll show you how to.” He then mumbles, and suddenly his nose is practically grazing yours. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes widening as you watch his confident ones. 

Then his lips press against your own, and they’re surprisingly soft. At first he remained still, completely unmoving and you wondered what on god's green earth he was doing. But soon he lets his eyes close, one of his hands letting go of your wrist as he cups your cheek. The small caress makes your eyes widen further and you resist the urge to pull back. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you hesitantly respond to the tentative kiss, letting your eyes flutter shut as well. 

You knew that you shouldn’t be doing this, that it was wrong, taboo even. He was your step brother.. at least he was bound to be once your parents got married. Guilt roots itself in the pits of your stomach, making it twist and turn uncomfortably as you try to relax in his grip. — He doesn’t push you any further and it takes you by surprise. Instead he lets his lips linger on top of yours, and when he pulls away moments later, a small pecking sound follows it. You watch through lidded eyes as his narrowed gaze studies you, the hand on your cheek moving to your chin. 

“How was it?” He wonders, as if expecting a review of some sort. Your mouth parts but you can’t seem to find the words. How could you describe the shame and the guilt? How could you ever verbalize the way his soft lips had felt on yours, such a thing was impossible. — “It felt weird..” Your hushed whisper echoes out like church bells in your ears and you remain very aware of the way his fingers reside around your chin, locking your face in place. 

Beomgyu lets out a short breath, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down as his gaze catches onto your exposed teeth. “First time always feels weird”, he states and before you get to prepare yourself, he dives right back in, except this time he goes straight for the kill. — You let out a small yelp as he pries your mouth open, immediately slipping his wet tongue inside to slide against yours. You can still taste the minty toothpaste on him and the sensation of something so wet and…alive, in your mouth, makes you cringe. 

You still allow him to kiss you, to push you back against the pillows as his hands roam your body, his poisonous touch spreading across your skin like wildfire. You knew that this was exactly what he wanted, to ruin something so perfectly pure, to take something from you that you could never get back. And for some reason, you let him. — Only when his hand reaches the waistband of your pajama shorts do you stop him, eyes wide as you push him back. 

“Wait.” 

The kiss breaks with a wet sound and a small string of saliva still connects the two of you. Struggling to find a suitable approach to the matter, you let your gaze drop to his chest, heaving a small sigh as you bite your lip. “I…I don’t know if…I mean I haven’t..” Honestly you didn’t even know what you were getting at yourself, you supposed you wanted to prolong the moment, if just a moment longer. 

Beomgyu regards you with an expression you don’t think you’d ever seen on him before; a mixture of both intrigue and desire. “Are you scared?” He wonders and without thinking, you nod. His lips stretch wide, the hand on your shorts moving to your inner thigh as he gives it a light squeeze and you nearly flinch at the touch. “Good”, he huffs, his fingers venturing beneath the fabric of your pajamas as he gauges your reaction closely. 

When he pulls your shorts down, you gingerly try and conceal yourself, your cheeks flushing in all shades of red as your thighs squeeze shut. “Don’t be embarrassed”, he tsk’s, his hands on your knees as he firmly spreads them. — “I’ve seen plenty of pussies before”, he merely shrugs, “yours won’t be any different.” His reassurance didn’t help ease much of your worries as you let him pry your legs open. 

He starts slow, and you’re thankful; his index and middle finger gently rubbing you through the soft cotton of your panties and you resist the urge to hide your face as you squirm against him. — It wasn’t like you’d never touched yourself, because you had…you think. Like any other young teenager you’d experimented a little with your body, but as an inexperienced 15-year old, the results had proved futile. You never had the urge you suppose, you didn’t even know how it was supposed to feel like. But as Beomgyu touches you through your underwear, a strange feeling mingles alongside the guilt and shame in your stomach. 

His eyes are on you, on only you, watching as you bite your bottom lip, your hands fidgeting with the bed sheets as you try to suppress the small noises bubbling in your throat. Not until his fingers find your clit, rubbing it deliberately through your panties, do you let out a small squeak. “Is…Is it supposed to feel like that?” — Beomgyu’s dark gaze shifts from your spread legs and over to your wide stare. He nods, “does it feel good?” 

“Strange..” You quietly whisper, though you made no move to stop him as his index finger hooks around the waistband of your underwear. “Yeah?” He murmurs, taking his time as he slowly pulls the piece of garment from your body, letting it slide along your legs before he discards it on the floor. “You’ll get used to it”, he muses, eyes shifting to your exposed cunt as they visibly darken, “it comes with experience.” 

You had no clue what to expect, what to feel, how to respond. Your whole body felt tense as his cold fingers brushed against your naked skin, inching their way up and suddenly it felt like you were under a microscope, every single part of you being presented under a stark light. Beomgyu on the other hand, seems far more at ease as he lets two of his fingers swipe across your cute folds, teasingly pushing them apart as he slowly rubs you. 

It takes everything in you not to cringe at the weird and damp feeling pooling between your legs, the consistent throb of your cunt and the small cry you emit as he flicks over your clit once more. He sighs, “virgin pussies are my favorite”, his gaze shifts to his already glistening fingers, “they get wet so easily.” — You merely let out a small whimper at his words, thigh involuntarily twitching, the movement immediately catching his eye as his lips curl into a smirk. 

“W-Wait!” You croak as you suddenly feel him prodding against your fluttering hole, your muscles taut as you shift on the bed. Beomgyu stops, hand resting against your core as he studies you with an indifferent expression. “W-Won’t that hurt?” It felt embarrassing to ask, but the thought of him pushing something inside of you…it scared you. — But Beomgyu only shrugs. “It might”, he drawls, his fingers resuming their work on your cunt as he repositions his index one right above the tight rim of muscle, “depends on how bad you want me.” 

Want him? You didn’t know if you wanted him, it wasn’t like you liked him, right? You hated Beomgyu, you’d hated him for two years. You hated how he treated his mother, how he treated you, with such coldness and such little empathy. You hated how he made you cry, how he made you feel small and weak. You hated how he made you feel bad for grieving your own mother. 

But as your gaze shifts to his face, and as you will yourself to look past the cruelty, the darkness, you can still make out the boy you met that night, the one you’d had a small and what you thought was an insignificant crush on. From the black charcoal around his eyes, to the silver jewelry bored into his eyebrow; his black hair, nearly reaching his shoulders now, and his dark eyes, his eyes that both scared and intrigued you. 

You gasp when he without warning pushes his finger past your folds, immediately curling it inside of you, making your back arch off the bed in sheer surprise. Beomgyu’s attention is solely on your flushed face, watching in contentment as you writher under his touch, as you slowly lose yourself. — “O-Oh..” Is all you manage to squeak out between the ragged breaths. It felt weird and uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt, instead the fluttering sensation in your stomach only seemed to grow. 

“Such a greedy pussy”, Beomgyu hums as he feels you pulsate around his finger, “sucking me in like a complete whore.” You shake your head, “I-I’m not..” The words die in your throat as he adds he slides a second digit past your tight rim, making you shriek as he stretches your cunt. 

His touch felt poisonous but you couldn’t find it in you to push him off, to tell him to stop. No matter how many times you told yourself how wrong it was, you couldn’t help but slowly succumb to the darkness that was Beomgyu. Wanting, no needing, more. It was as if he’d introduced you to a most dangerous drug, and you find yourself desperately seeking another fix, a stronger one. 

Your short nails have torn the bright sheets covering the mattress, and your arms tremble as you lock eyes with him. Satisfactory, that was the only way you could describe the expression painting his face. You don’t think you’d ever seen Beomgyu as anything but angry, but this…this was far from it. He looks ready to devour you whole, his brooding eyes fixating on the way your jaw slacked, your saliva coated lips parted and your eyebrows drawn together in such an endearing manner. 

“Feel good?” He wonders, his brow twitching slightly when his thumb presses against your clit, eliciting a high pitched moan from you as you squirm against him. “I’ll take that as a yes”, he drawls and before you know it, his fingers are gone, making a sloppy sound as they withdraw from your cunt. You whine, hips bucking up in an attempt to seek his touch and your cheeks flare up in color. “W-Why did you stop..?” You pathetically wonder, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking that you had possibly done something wrong. 

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything as he brings his sticky fingers to his face, inhaling your scent before shoving them into his mouth. Your jaw falls open in bewilderment, how could he just do something like that so…casually. — “Come on now princess, we’ve only just gotten started.” 

Even more? 

Your already wide eyes dilate even further, completely forgetting to be angry over the nickname he’d used as his hand dips inside the waistband of his sweats, pulling his hard cock from his briefs. It wasn’t like you were a total prude, you knew what a dick looked like, you just…had never seen one up close. — Beomgyu takes his time as he wraps his fingers around its base, languidly stroking himself as pearly beads of what you could only assume to be precum spilled from the slit on top. 

The thought of having that inside of you makes your throat go dry and you shift uncomfortably on the bed. “Come on now, sis, don’t grow shy on me”, he drawls, stifling a groan as his thumb flicks over his tip. The knot in your stomach returns and you shoot him a glare, “I am not your ‘sis’”, you state through gritted teeth. But Beomgyu only chuckles before leaning forward, his face drawing in close once more. With one hand still on his cock, the other one presses flat against the mattress as he hovers in front of you. 

“Lie down.” 

His sharp command sends a shiver down your spine and you hesitantly comply, awkwardly sliding yourself down between his parted legs until only your head remains perched on the pillow. From this angle, Beomgyu’s long hair falls in front of his face and you resist the urge to reach up and brush it away. Instead your nervous eyes flicker to his cock as he gently taps it against your inner thigh. Your gaze lingers on the way his arousal spills onto your naked skin and suddenly a wave of realization washes over you. 

“Shouldn’t we use a condom?” You whisper, biting the inside of your cheek as your attention flits back to the smug expression on his face. “Why? That takes away half the fun”, he hums, letting his tip part your puffy folds as he nudges it against your throbbing clit. “H-ah b-but isn’t it unsafe?” You whine, unable to keep from grinding against him, desperately seeking his touch. 

Beomgyu lets out an exasperated sigh, reaching a hand up to run through his slightly disheveled hair. “Don’t tell me you’re scared”, he grunts, his fingers clasping around your chin, pulling your face so that it rests inches from his. Your breath is uneven and jagged as you reluctantly meet his gaze, a quiet “no” spilling from your lips. — He grins, tongue dragging across the bottom row of teeth in his mouth, “such a terrible liar.” 

You don’t have time to think, much less act before the head of his cock pushed past the rim of taut muscle as he slid inside your warm cunt, almost immediately groaning at how you wrapped around him so deliciously. — “Fuck, you really are a virgin aren’t you?” He breathes, lips hovering above yours and you weakly nod. The stretch of his thick cock making you go near cross eyed as you grasped at his shoulders. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before and you were sure that Beomgyu enjoyed every second of it. 

He had been the first, the first one to get his hands on you, to spew his poison all over your pure and innocent virgin body, and he would make sure to do so thoroughly. His mouth is on your neck, tongue licking at your skin and you cringe away from the action but he doesn’t falter, lips immediately chasing yours as he keeps you in place. The kiss is rougher than the previous, hungry and disoriented as Beomgyu messily jerks his hips against yours. Your nails dig into the apex of his shoulders and his name echoes through in the pristine bedroom as you moan out in pleasure. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum right away if you keep that up”, he grunts, fingers digging into your cheeks as he withdraws from your lips. Your eyes widen as you feebly try and shake your head, dreading for him to finish inside. But he doesn’t, instead he redirects his focus to your neck, resuming what he’d been doing as his tongue darts out to swipe across its juncture. You squeal when his teeth graze your skin, the hands on his shoulders moving to his dark hair. 

The marks he left on your untouched skin were bound to linger for at least a couple of days, he made sure of that. Reveling in the fact that you’d let him in, let him close, allowed him to take something so precious, something that you had been clinging on to for so long. He would have you, all of you, even if only once, he would be sure to leave an impression. 

And you know that you should feel ashamed, feel guilty, dirty even. But something feels different, something about him, about Beomgyu. It’s not the Beomgyu you loathed, the Beomgyu who’d made you cry, the Beomgyu who made you feel worthless. — None of the anger, the hatred, the fire; none of that lingered right now. And had it not been for his sharp teeth on your skin and his rough pace as his cock rammed into your throbbing cunt, the moment might’ve even been tender. 

There’s an unfamiliar feeling building in the pits of your stomach and it had long since overridden the previous shame and guilt. Unsure of what to make of it, you desperately tug on Beomgyu’s hair, eventually making his head raise from your chest with a small frown, the liner around his eyes even more smudged than usual now. — “I’m…I…” your face turns beet red as you stumble over your words, not knowing how to express yourself. 

He licks his already wet lips, his pace momentarily slowing and you whimper at the discomfort soaring through your body. “You close?” He asks, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. You open your mouth only to close it again, nodding sheepishly as your hands twist in his hair. Beomgyu groans as he lets his fingers slide down your stomach, reaching where your bodies connected like one, middle finger rubbing your clit menacingly as he watches you arch against him with a broken moan. 

Your first ever orgasm felt out of this world, your cunt clenching around his cock with such vigor that you thought you might cry, a string of incoherent and high pitched whines ripping from your throat as you pull Beomgyu close, and for the first time, you’re the one initiating the kiss as you slam your lips on his. — He groans into your mouth, letting you slide your tongue against his, albeit a little awkwardly as you had no clue of what you were doing. 

Finally, as your climax comes to an end, you find yourself relaxing against the mattress, the fingers in his hair loosening their grip as you allow yourself to kiss him slowly. — “F-Fuck princess”, he grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before letting go. You respond by eagerly raising your hips to meet his, wincing at how sensitive you felt as his cock twitched inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, wait”, he breaths, tearing himself from you as he swiftly pulls out with a small hiss. 

In your euphoric state, your eyes drift to his hand wrapped around his shaft, quickly jerking himself off as his gaze fixates on your wet cunt. Then he notices you, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he reaches for your wrist, “come here”, he urges as he guides the flat of your hand to wrap around his cock. — Blinking, your attention flits between his expectant face and his heavy dick in your grasp as you contemplate your next move. It wasn’t like you’d ever done something like this before but it looked easy enough when he was doing it. 

With determination you begin to carefully stroke him, biting the inside of your cheek at the squelching sound erupting as his arousal smeared across your fingers. Beomgyu’s hips jerk forward and your movements stutter. — “H-ah, fucking hell d-don’t stop”, he groans, his jaw slacked as his eyes tightly squeezed shut. A quiet “sorry” slips from your lips and your pace returns as you work to get him off. 

“F-Fuck go a bit faster, yeah?” He mutters, his hand joining in on top of yours as he ups the intensity. Merely following his command, you grip him tighter, drawing a strained moan from him as your fingers drag across his tip. — It made you feel oddly powerful, seeing him like this, his otherwise indifferent face completely flushed, and instead of presenting himself with a mean scowl, he looked to be in complete bliss as he let his head fall back. 

A final twitch of his causes hot liquid to spurt from his throbbing cock, the white substance coating both your hand and lower abdomen. He heaves a sigh and you feel him slowly go soft in your hand before you pull it away. Beomgyu runs his fingers through his hair, parting it before letting his arm drop back down, his gaze landing on the mess on your stomach. He tsk’s spreading the sticky fluid across your skin. “What would your daddy think if he saw you like this, hm?” He murmurs, licking his lips before bringing his cum-coated fingers to your face. 

You shake your head, without the waves of pleasure sparking through you, the shame and the guilt suddenly crawled right back. “I- I don’t want to talk about him..” You whine, trying to force the image of your father out of your mind. — “His beautiful princess, completely ruined by something so…what did you say I was? Dark?” 

Without warning he pushes his wet fingers inside your mouth, making you cringe at the salty taste of him. “I bet your daddy would hate you forever”, Beomgyu finally states, watching as you frown, lips closing around the digits in your mouth. — And when he finally withdraws them, you splutter, “my father doesn’t hate me, but yours seem to do.” 

Beomgyu’s jaw twitches, his lips curling up into a small scowl and the desire previously filling the air slowly simmers out. You knew that he wanted you to feel just as miserable as he did. But you wouldn’t let him, you wouldn’t let him get to you like that. — Half expecting an insult thrown your way, you’re surprised when he merely tucks himself back into his sweats, rising from the bed as he regards you with dark eyes. “Fine, keep living with such fantasies and we’ll see just how long it takes for them to get crushed.” 

Without as much as another word, he leaves your room, the door slamming shut behind him as the small house falls under an eerie silence once more. 

⸝⸝

Your parents came home two days later, and though you wanted to say that things had changed between you and Beomgyu after your…night together, it was safe to say that they hadn’t. At least not on his part. You on the other hand, couldn’t get the feeling of his hands off of your body, it was like he’d permanently imprinted himself on your skin. It feels disgusting, and you had spent three hours in the shower the morning after, vigorously trying to scrub the venom from your system. But it never worked, his touch lingered like that of a tattoo, forever sealed onto you. You could never take back what had happened that night. 

For some reason, a small part of you doesn’t want to. 

Beomgyu avoided you, and when he wasn’t avoiding you he was glaring. His dark and piercing eyes followed your every move whenever you were in his field of vision. But there was something else too, a sense of superiority. — He knew that you were constantly dealing with the consequences of that night, he could see the way your mind haunted you with the memories, and he took pride in watching the shame and the guilt practically eat you alive. — He was on top of the world and you were scrambling to even get by. 

So one could easily imagine your surprise when one evening, you found him in a state you never thought you’d ever get to witness. 

It was late, but your small family had yet to eat dinner, and you watched as Ms Choi darted across the kitchen, in full with preparing your meal. You helped her set the table as you laughed at a couple of your dad’s terrible and overused jokes. It had taken a whole of three days for you to be able to look him in the eye after he’d come home, and you still felt terrible whenever you caught him and Ms Choi sharing a kiss; knowing that one tiny slip of your lips could manage to ruin something so perfect. 

You trusted that Beomgyu wouldn’t utter as much as a single breath about what had transpired that night, but you still startled when his mother taps your shoulder, whipping around as you come face to face with her. — “Dear, do you mind fetching Beomgyu, dinner’s almost ready”, she smiled, that warm and comforting smile she so often gave her son, only to receive a mere huff in return. You nod, slowly making your way out of the kitchen as you head for the hallway, dreading having to speak to him, much less in private. 

The steps creak under your weight as you drag yourself up the stairs, drawing out the moment for as long as possible before you inevitably reach his door. With a small sigh, you knock. There’s no music coming from the other side and you frown, what’s up with him? — Another knock, but nothing. You bite the inside of your cheek, a wave of frustration crashing over you at the thought of having to call out for him. 

“Beomgyu?” 

A third knock. You wait for at least a minute but there’s nothing, just silence. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep, still, you should wake him and let him know that dinner was ready, Ms Choi had asked you after all. — Your hand is near trembling as you grasp the handle, twisting it before pushing the door open. Slowly adjusting to the darkness of his room, you peer inside. But to your surprise, he wasn’t there. 

Your footsteps make a thumping sound as you hurry down the stairs. If he wasn’t in his room then…Your gaze flickers toward the dining room and kitchen before settling on the front door. “Did he mention anything about going out?” You call out for Ms Choi and she soon appears in the doorway, a bowl of salad in her hands. “No, is he not in his room?” She wonders, her face quickly falling. 

Noting her worried expression you quickly shake your head as you try and reassure her. “I’m sure he just went for a walk, I’ll go check.” — Your dad’s girlfriend gives a small nod as her gaze, too, flickers toward the door. “Alright..” 

⸝⸝ 

The cool night air hits your face and you mutter a few curses under your breath, scolding yourself for offering to do something like that when the last thing you wanted was to be out in this cold. — As you walk down the graveled path you let out a tired groan, what were you even thinking coming out here? It wasn’t like he was just going to magically appear or something. Fucking asshole, had the nerve to leave without a word and now you had to go looking for him. 

But as you push the small fence gate open and turn out and onto the street, a familiar scene flashes before your eyes. Nostalgia fills your every fiber as your eyes fall on Beomgyu’s figure, perched on the sidewalk as he hugs his knees to his chest, just like he had that night, that night two years ago. — But something was different. That night, the one where you had learned to hate him, it had been a warm night, and Beomgyu had been burning with rage. Today, the air is much colder, and Beomgyu is no longer on fire, instead he’s shivering, his whole body quivering as small sobs escape his soft lips.  

You freeze at the sight, breath catching in your throat as you regard his almost pathetic frame, curling in on itself as his fingers dig into the flesh of his calves. Part of you wants to leave him there, perhaps even make fun of him, it was most tempting to finally get back at him for the way he’d ruined you. — But you weren’t Beomgyu. And you wouldn’t do that. 

Instead you find yourself slowly approaching, and just like that night two years ago, you slide down next to him on the cold pavement. He doesn’t seem to register that you’re there, and you sit in silence for a brief moment before addressing him. — “Beomgyu?” — His head jerks at the quiet whisper of his name, his usually narrowed eyes wide in shock as they flicker over to you. His cheeks are wet, stained with his tears and the liner around his eyes had run down his face in messy streaks. A few strands of hair stick to his forehead and his lip trembles as he sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Leave me the fuck alone.” He croaks, but his voice comes out weak and raspy. His hands wipe at his face, but it only spreads the mess already there even further and he lets out a frustrated groan. — You don’t say anything, because last time you tried to comfort him you only ended up getting hurt. Instead your gaze flits to his discarded phone between the two of you. The screen was broken, likely from him smashing it on the asphalt beneath. You frown as it suddenly comes to life, vibrating against the hard ground. The bright screen illuminates the dim street and your eyes land on the caller-ID. 

“Dad.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t make a move to answer, merely turning his head away as he continues to sob into his arms. “Don’t”, he mutters as he sees you reaching for the device, “he’s drunk.” — You purse your lips but your fingers still clasp around the phone, your thumb swiping to decline the call. Upon being presented with his lockscreen, you can make out at least another fifteen missed ones. Your chest churns at the scene, for whatever reason, you do not know. The bright light vanishes as you power off his phone completely, tossing it to the side as you stretch your legs out in front of you on the pavement. 

It takes him about a minute to lift his head from his arms and his breath is still uneven as he speaks. “What does he want?” — Biting your lip, you gaze ahead, tracing the outlines of each car parked down the street, memorizing their plate numbers. You didn’t know how to answer his question, so you remained silent. Beomgyu shuffles next to you, mimicking your movement of unfolding his legs. “I bet he wants money..” He then adds in a snarky tone, wiping his face once more as he snivels, “money to sponsor his fucking addiction.” 

You throw a quick glance in the direction of his discarded phone. “Why do you still have his number?” It was obvious that he didn’t like his father, so why let him bother him like that. Beomgyu shakes his head solemnly, his fingers twisting against one another as he opens his mouth only to close it again. “Wouldn’t it be better to block him?” — “I can’t.” He suddenly exclaims, turning to you with a small frown. 

Why not? Why let something like that plague you, why not just cut it off, why not just let go? 

It was then you realized that perhaps you and Beomgyu shared a lot more than you’d initially wanted to admit.. Your eyes drop to the bracelet around your wrist, the silver glinting under the moon. — When your attention returns to him, you find him already watching you, his gaze following yours as it resided by the jewelry on your arm. You think he might make another comment about it, but he doesn’t, instead he merely sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. 

“I think..” You begin, your voice a quiet whisper as you stare past him, eyes drifting off into the distance as you let the words roll off your tongue. “I think you’re stuck on what could’ve been rather than what you have.” Beomgyu doesn’t say anything, his gaze mindlessly dropping to his hands in front of him as he bites the inside of his cheek. “What I have”, he mutters with a small frown, clearly not intended for you to hear but you did. 

“You have your mom.” 

He scoffs, already anticipating your next self-victimizing rant about how yours was dead. “My mom is-” 

“A wonderful person.” Your statement catches him off guard and his attention shifts back to your face as he studies you with a look of wariness. “And you would see that if you spared her more than a glare”, you continue as you watch his skeptical expression. — You had never felt anything besides hatred for Beomgyu, and you had been so blinded by your rage that in a way, you had become almost exactly like him. But as you finally take a step back to view him completely, his disheveled frame, his slumped shoulders and runny makeup — pity washes over you, the same pity you had felt on that night two years ago; the night everything went wrong. 

“Stop holding her accountable for his mistakes.” 

You can see the twitch of his face at your words, as if he wanted to refuse them, to lash out on you, but he didn’t. Instead he looks to you with the most sorrowful look you’d ever witnessed on him. — “How do I do that?” He wonders, his voice is thick, laced with his previous tears. Biting your tongue, you hold back from saying what you thought he wasn’t ready to hear but Beomgyu clings to you, his hands wrapping around the fabric of your shirt, his grip near trembling. 

“I miss my mom.” He whispers, his voice breaking as a lonesome droplet falls down his cheek, slicing through the dark smear of charcoal on his face. Your jaw falls open, stunned by the way his resolve so suddenly crumbled. And as you heard the words leave his lips, “i miss my mom”, you could practically feel every single one of his emotions as they washed over him in thunderous waves. — You missed your mom too, you missed her terribly. 

He hiccups, his tears creating a damp spot on the shoulder of your shirt. “H-How do I get her back..?” The question comes out muffled as he grips you tightly. “Please…I want my mom back.” — Your eyes sting and you feel yourself slowly losing your composure as you draw in a ragged breath. With a small push of your hands, you manage to create some distance between the two of you, enough to where you could see his wet face, his glossy eyes and swollen lips. 

“You have to let him go.” 

You reach for his phone, powering it back on. Beomgyu looks hesitant as he wipes his eyes, exhaling shakily when you extend the device to him. “The longer you let him ruin you the more you and those around you will suffer.” — With wobbly fingers he grasps his phone, slowly finding his dad’s contact info. He wavers, thumb hovering above the block button as he bites his bottom lip. 

You don’t know why you felt the need to help him, why you felt like you had to comfort him, reassure him. — “You’ve said it yourself haven’t you? Some people don’t deserve children.” His gaze flickers up to meet yours at the statement, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “Don’t let him have that privilege”, you say as you let your hand rest on top of his. 

Beomgyu slowly nods, reluctantly pressing the dreadful button as he erases his father from his life. He purses his lips, breathing out through his nose as he stares at the screen for a minute, as if contemplating his next move. — “He’s gone.” He finally states, the frown on his face only deepening as he swallowed thickly. 

“Sometimes it’s better that way”, you mumble, letting go of his hand as you lean back, your gaze dropping to the bracelet around your wrist. 

Your heart pounds loudly in your chest, blood rushing through your body as you reach for the small lock, carefully unclasping the piece of sacred jewelry. Beomgyu and you…You weren’t so different, you think. And if he could do something, something like that, then who says you couldn’t? 

His eyes are on you, watching intently as you with shaky hands let the bracelet fall from your skin, feeling oddly empty without it. — It feels light in your hand, and you wondered how something so significant could weigh so little. It made it easier to let go. — Beomgyu lets you grab his wrist, the frown on his face creasing further when you tie the silver around him. 

“Now she’s gone too.” 

You give him a small smile, meeting his wide eyes as they shift from the bracelet around his wrist and your relieved expression. 

It’s without thinking that you lean in, softly pressing your lips against his in a small kiss. But this time you didn’t feel guilty, nor did you feel dirty or ashamed. Instead it felt nice, it felt like closure. Letting your eyes flutter closed, feeling his warm and damp skin against your own, a stark contrast to the cold night surrounding you. Beomgyu lets you kiss him without protest and you feel the faint caress of fingers to your cheek. 

When you pull away he chases after you, only to be stopped by the palm of your hand on his chest as you shake your head. “It’s not like that. You know it too.” Your soft whisper makes his jaw clench, his fingers dropping from your face as they curl into fists. Then he nods, the corner of his lips pulling upwards, “yeah.” 

Gingerly rising to your feet, you dust some off the dirt from your jeans before your attention returns to him, still perched on the sidewalk. — Your outstretched hand is met by the raise of his eyebrow and you roll your eyes, “come on, I think there’s someone who would like to talk to you.” Beomgyu frowns but takes your hand nonetheless as he lets you pull him up. 

You walk like that, hand in hand, and it feels nice. Your heart sinks a little at the thought that it could’ve been like this from the start, had things worked out differently. But as you turn to walk through the small fence gate, and your eyes fall on Ms Choi, anxiously waiting by the front door, you find yourself smiling. And instead of grieving what you could’ve had, you would focus on what you did have. 

Beomgyu audibly swallows next to you as his gaze surveys his mother, and as Ms Choi notices the two of you approaching, her face lights up. — With a final squeeze of his hand, you let him go. It was satisfactory in itself to see him walk up to his mom, letting her wrap her arms around him for the first time in what you could only guess to be years. But they both made it look so natural as they fell into each other’s embrace. And it only confirmed what you had known for so long.

That Beomgyu was and had always been, a mommy’s boy.

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[1-imaginary-girl]

Wolf Bite

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: During a fight between your friends and Klaus and his hybrids, you get bit. A certain someone appears later to help heal your wounds and complicate your feelings. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Violence, fluff

Word Count: 4850

Part 2

A/N: I have been obsessing over Klaus lately and thought I would share this passion with you guys. I haven’t seen TVD or TO in a while so I apologize if I get anything wrong about the lore. It doesn’t follow any canon plot, just inspired by Klaus healing Caroline’s bite.

You’re leaning against a wall in the Salvatore brothers’ house as the rest of your friends talk about their newest plan to threaten Klaus and his family. The idea seems foolish to you, but you know better than to voice your opinion. Ever since the Mikaelson clan moved to town, being a vampire has gotten a lot more complicated. You’re suddenly not so immortal when there’s a whole group of people out to get you and your friends.

You’ve also started to notice a shift in the group as Elena now has feelings for both Salvatores. You’re well aware that your presence has slowly started to go unnoticed and yet here you are again. You watch as the group argues about how to lure Klaus and co. to the woods where you’ll meet him.

“What if we send someone to his house to deliver the message?” Elena suggests. But Stefan shakes his head.

“No, it’s too risky,” he says.

“Not if we send someone with a white oak stake for protection,” Caroline says.

“That would ruin the plan,” Bonnie says. There’s a silence as the group thinks of a new idea. Until Damon speaks.

“What if we get Y/N to call him?” Damon says, looking at you for the first time today. Your eyes widen as the rest of the group now looks at you. As if they weren’t just ignoring you.

“What? N-no way,” you say, not prepared to be put on the spot.

“Come on, he’s clearly shown an interest in you. Now’s the time to use that,” he argues. It’s true. Ever since you first met, Klaus seems to have taken a liking to you. But you think the group’s making it a bigger deal than it is. You think he just does it as a way to annoy the group. Though why he chose you instead of someone like Caroline or Bonnie, you’ll never know. 

“I don’t want to do that,” you say, not wanting to explain exactly why. You’re not even quite sure yourself. “Besides, it probably won’t work. I mean, I don’t even have his phone number.”

“Oh right,” Damon says, furrowing his eyebrows as you throw a retch in his plan.

“You could deliver the message in person,” Caroline suggests. Your jaw almost drops.

“Wait, so it’s too risky if someone else goes to the house, but not me?”

“Come on, he won’t hurt you,” Damon says. You’re beginning to think being a wallflower was the better option.

“We all have to help, Y/N,” Elena says. You choke on your words as you look around, seeing no one objecting to this plan.

“Wait, you guys my message spell!” Bonnie exclaims. Everyone turns to her and you are relieved to be out of the spotlight as you lean back against the wall. “I need paper, something to write with, and something of Klaus’s.”

Though you are currently mad at all of them, you decide you’re mad at Bonnie the least so you open your bag. You’re able to scrounge up the materials, even something of Klaus’s (you didn’t ask). With the necessary ingredients, Bonnie performs her spell and the written note lights on fire before quickly disintegrating. She opens her eyes.

“That should do it,” she says.

“We should go,” Elena says and everyone agrees.

†††

The group is waiting in the woods for Klaus to appear, as is expressed in the letter. Another argument broke out on the way here as to who will get the white oak stake as you only brought one to threaten Klaus with. The group didn’t want to risk any of the other stakes. In the end, Damon won the argument as he reminded Stefan his responsibility was to look out for Elena, which she did not like. The rest of you are armed with regular stakes just in case anything happens.

“When is he going to get here?” Caroline says, though no one answers as no one knows. “I mean, how can he even find us? We’re in the middle of the woods!”

“He can probably track us by seeking out Elena’s blood,” Damon says which angers Elena. Sometimes you feel bad for her being the only human amongst the group (other than Matt), and other times you envy her for it.

When the group is about ready to give up, you hear something coming. The other vampires can hear it too and you ready yourselves. Soon enough, Klaus stands before you with a smile on his face. “Well, well, isn’t this a nice surprise? I hadn’t realized we were pen pals,” the Original says. His eyes rake over the group and he perks up when he spots you. “Hello love.”

The others glance at you and, panicked to be on the spot again, you say, “Uh, hi,” with a small and awkward wave.

This causes Klaus’ smile to grow wider and seemingly more genuine, and you try to suppress the urge to blush. Although you don’t think your friends were pleased by that interaction.

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Stefan says, bringing Klaus’ attention back to the group.

“Ah yes, the cryptic message,” Klaus says. “So, what is it that I must see? Truly, I’m dying to know.” You see Damon smirk.

“I wouldn’t act so cocky,” he says.

“Oh, and why’s that?” Klaus says with an entertained look on his face. His face changes, however, when Damon reveals the white oak stake. His cocky attitude shifts quickly to fear and anger. “Where did you get that?” he growls.

“Well it turns out when your sister burned down that bridge, she didn’t realize that other things were made from your precious oak tree,” Damon taunts. He’s exaggerating, of course, as there was only one other thing made from the tree. But Klaus still looks fearful.

“So what? You really think you can kill me with one stake?”

“We don’t intend to kill you. At least not now anyway,” Caroline says.

“We called you here as a threat. To tell you to leave Mystic Falls or else,” Stefan says with a calm smile on his face.

“Oh, and this isn’t the only stake. We wouldn’t risk bringing all of them with us just for you to break them,” Elena says.

“You’re bluffing,” Klaus sneers.

“Care to find out?” Damon asks. You can practically feel the steam of anger rolling off Klaus.

“How dare you threaten me,” Klaus says, his blue-green eyes turning a deadly shade of yellow.

“What are you going to do about it?” Damon says with a taunting smirk. Klaus’ face shifts and he smirks back.

“Why I’m so glad you asked,” he says. He then lets out a whistle and some of his hybrids emerge from the woods. You widen your gaze as you hold out your weapon, trying to assess the situation. The hybrids move in closer, and you can see the others preparing themselves. “Now, let’s try this again. Hand over the stake, and no one gets hurt.”

You thought the answer would be obvious. Sure, Klaus might be bluffing but you can’t kill that many hybrids. And what’s one lost stake anyway? However, you seemed to be the only one thinking that.

“No thanks,” Damon says. You look at him incredulously.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Klaus says. As soon as Klaus advances, his hybrids pounce and the group is thrown into an attack. Your weapons will only slow the hybrids down, but your best hope is to get the upper hand and snap their necks to incapacitate them.

Damon and Klaus immediately face off. The rest of you prepare to face the small army of hybrids while Stefan protects Elena. One of the hybrids locks onto you and hisses before attacking you. You instantly try to hold the hybrid off and stab her, but you can feel her overpowering you in strength.

Still, you rely on your moves in combat to avoid any major injuries or worse, her bite. You manage to get the upper hand and stab her through the stomach, and while she’s slowed down, you move to behind her back and snap her neck, knocking her out for a good while.

You’re trying to catch your breath when you sense another hybrid coming at you too late. He pounces on you and you slam into the ground with him on top of you. You’re caught off guard and without your stake. When you try to move to fight back, the hybrid digs his teeth into your shoulder. A short scream rips through you, powered both by panic and pain.

Meanwhile, Klaus is fighting Damon when he hears the scream. He looks your way as he feared it was you, and the scene causes his eyes to widen. With a newfound urgency, Klaus faces Damon and quickly finds a way to snap his neck.

As you’re panicking from the bite, you feel the hybrid being pulled off of you and you see Klaus with a furious expression. The hybrid is very confused by his sire’s anger. You think you hear Klaus growl, “Not her,” before snapping their neck.

You’re shocked at what just happened all at once and remain on the ground, sitting up with wide eyes looking at Klaus. He looks away from the hybrid to meet your gaze and his eyes instantly soften. He looks concerned, though you’re not sure why. He makes a move to walk toward you but before you can say anything, Caroline rushes over to you.

She quickly puts herself between Klaus and you. “Stay away from her,” she hisses at him. Klaus’ expression shifts back to anger, and before you can explain to Caroline what’s going on, Klaus’s gaze flick from her to you and then he sprints away. Not just away from you, but he leaves the forest. The hybrids that haven’t been incapacitated follow.

You look after him, longing to talk to him and figure out why he saved you, when Caroline’s face comes into view. “Are you okay?” she asks while helping to pull you off the ground. You nod and you guess that’s enough for her because she walks towards the rest of the group.

You’re a bit stunned as Klaus seemed to show more compassion than your friend, but you merely shake off the exchange. From the woods, the group heads back to the Salvatore’s place. You trail behind them, your mind racing as you’re overly aware of the fact that a werewolf bit you. Not just a werewolf, but a hybrid. You haven’t told your friends about it because you don’t want to be a bother to them as that’s all you feel like you are these days.

On the way back, your mind wanders to the one person that seems to be on everyone’s minds these days. Klaus. You don’t know why he saved you, even from his own hybrid, but you want to thank him. You know you should hate him like the others do but for some reason every time that man looks at you, your stomach erupts into butterflies.

You feel awful for how you feel, you know all the harm he’s caused to your friends and not to mention the world, but you can’t help it. It doesn’t help that he pretends to be soft on you either. You haven’t told anyone about your feelings, whatever they are, for fear of persecution but you can’t stop thinking about him.

You arrive at the Salvatore’s and the group huddles in the living room for a quick debriefing of what just went down. All the while images of Klaus and your bite flash through your mind. You look at your shoulder and you can’t see the full damage as it’s covered by your shirt but you know it’s not good.

“How are you holding up, Damon?” Caroline asks teasingly. He glares at her and rolls his neck.

“Doing just great thanks,” he says.

“What the hell even happened?” Elena asks. “I mean, why did they just leave?”

“All I know is, one minute I’m holding my own against Klaus--” Damon says and to this you hold back rolling your eyes. Klaus must’ve been going easy on him, toying with him. “--and then he gets this raged look on his face and boom, lights out.”

“He went to Y/N,” Caroline says causing all of their eyes to stare at you again. You bite back your annoyance at her for bringing that on you.

“What happened?” Stefan asks while the rest of the group waits. The image of Klaus looking at you causes your face to heat up and you struggle to come up with a lie. You don’t want to tell them the truth when you yourself haven’t even gotten to the bottom of it.

“I-I don’t know,” you say. They still stare at you. “Maybe he was mad at me for harming his hybrids.”

“There were two knocked-out hybrids beside her,” Caroline adds. The group looks at you with a mix of shock and amazement.

“You knocked out two of them?” Damon asks with surprise and slight amusement. You don’t want to outwardly lie so you just kind of nod.

“And then he just left,” you say.

“It still doesn’t make sense. I mean, why target you specifically?” Bonnie asks.

“Maybe he’s miffed his lover betrayed him,” Damon says and your face turns beat red.

“W-What?! I am not his—” you burst out in surprise until someone cuts you off. No one even looks your way.

“Or maybe he’s planning something,” Elena suggests. The rest of them start diving into conspiracies but your mind is elsewhere. You suddenly feel drawn to look at your bite. The more you look at it, the more it’s like you can feel the venom pumping through your veins. Your heartbeat is suddenly too loud and you feel like you can’t breathe.

You don’t know if it has something to do with the venom or just your overall panic, but all of a sudden, the world goes black.

†††

Your eyes slowly open and your vision is blurry at first. Figures stand over you and after blinking a few times, you recognize your friends.

“She’s awake,” Elena says, as if everyone isn’t seeing it for themselves. You realize you’re lying on the Salvatore’s couch. You wonder how long you blacked out for.

“What the hell Y/N?!” Caroline instantly yells at you. You flinch at her volume but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Why didn’t you tell us you got bit?”

At the reminder, you look back at the bite only to see that its gotten worse. You wince at the sight of it and face the group. You guess they discovered it when you passed out.

“I don’t know, I-I thought I could handle it,” you say, not wanting to admit the real reason. Most of them roll their eyes at you.

“Of course you couldn’t handle it!” Damon says. “You should have told us.”

I didn’t know you cared. You bite your tongue to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, losing interest in the conversation as you are now painfully aware of the venom from the bite.

“What are we going to do?” Bonnie asks. They begin to cut you out of the conversation even though they’re talking about you and you decide you can’t deal with this right now. You stand up from the couch, feeling a bit of a head rush before steadying yourself. This seems to draw their attention.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Stefan asks, as they all look at you with bewildered expressions.

“I’m going home,” you say and start to walk away. Unfortunately, they follow.

“You can’t just go home!” Caroline exclaims, reacting as if you just said you were going to the moon.

“Watch me,” you say, your frustration getting the better of you. You try to make your way towards the door but a few steps in you stumble and Stefan speeds over to steady you.

“Okay, we’ll take you home, alright?” he says and in that moment, you’re grateful for him. He turns to the rest of the group. “We can regroup at her place and brainstorm ideas there while keeping an eye on her.” The rest of the group seems to agree with the idea. In separate cars, the group drives over to your house.

Soon you’re pulling into your driveway. They’ve all been invited in before so entering isn’t a problem. With Stefan’s help, you climb the stairs and soon find yourself in your cozy bed. You wish you could just sleep away this problem but a sudden sharp pain from the wound reminds you that isn’t possible.

“So what now?” Elena asks as the group piles into your bedroom. It feels weird and you’re slightly uncomfortable with it but you keep quiet and just get under your inviting covers.

“Maybe we can ask Klaus for help?” Bonnie suggests. At this, Damon instantly scoffs.

“Yeah that sounds like him,” Damon says.

“Maybe he’ll do it for Y/N,” Caroline says. “He does have a soft spot for her.”

“I don’t know if that’s enough for him,” Stefan interjects. “We all know what he’s after.”

“No,” Damon says. “We finally have a real weapon against those Original assholes and I’m not just going to throw it all away for—”

“Damon,” Elena hisses and nudges him in the chest before nodding over to you. Once more, all eyes are on you and you don’t know what to do. Damon looks away, maybe feeling guilty for basically saying you’re not worth it.

“Why don’t we continue this conversation downstairs?” Caroline suggests. You once again wonder why they’re talking about this situation without you but you’re too tired and hurt to care.

“We’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Bonnie says and then the group filters out closing the door behind them.

Throughout the day a few of them check in on you every once and a while, barely giving you updates on if they’re going to find a cure. As your pain grows and the sky darkens, you start to think that maybe this is it. Maybe this is how you die. You never imagined it happening like this and your chest caves in at the thought of a final death but it’s looking more and more likely.

You’re not sure what time it is, but later in the night you hear a faint knock which sounds like it’s coming from your front door. You ignore it, not having the strength to answer it. You figure one of your friends will answer it. If they’re even home.

The knock sounds again, louder and more persistent, and you start to suspect that your friends have left. You take a deep breath as fear coils around your throat, constricting your breath. Your friends aren’t here and you’re going to die all alone before you even got to live. The knocking stops and you settle back into the silence.

Then a sound comes from your window. It sounds like…knocking? From your bed, you can’t see the outside since it’s too dark out. You wish your friends were here. Slowly, you climb out of bed and try to rally your strength in case you have to fight something or someone. As you walk over your confusion only grows.

There, perched on a branch from the tree outside your window, is Klaus Mikaelson. He gives you a wave and you hesitantly wave back. You approach the window cautiously before opening it.

“Um, can I help you?” you ask, trying to understand what you’re seeing. Hallucinations are a side effect of wolf venom, right?

“Well hello to you too, love,” he says with a cheeky smile on his face. His eyes roam over your body and his smile falters. You suddenly become aware that this is the closest you’ve ever been to the Original. You try not to let your cheeks flush.

“What are you doing here?” His smile drops entirely, noticing your serious demeanour.

“I’m here to help. Now if you could just let me in—”

“Help with what?” His face becomes grim as his eyes trail over to your shoulder. It’s now out in the open as you’ve changed into pajamas. You then remember that he must’ve seen the bite when it happened.

“Your wound, love.”

“Why…why would you want to help me with that?” you ask. Then a thought occurs. “Wait, have my friends spoken to you?”

His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head. “No, I haven’t heard from them,” he says and though you can’t say you didn’t expect it, your heart drops at hearing it. “Wait, do they know about this?”

“Um yeah.”

He looks angry as he asks, “And where are they now?”

You look at the floor and try to keep your embarrassment inside. “I don’t know, I thought they would’ve contacted you.”

“Apparently not.” His face is still twisted in anger although you’re not quite sure why. Then he looks at you and seems to remember why he’s here. “So, can you let me in?”

The thought of having Klaus Mikaelson in your room makes your heart beat faster. And though you want to give in, to continue living your immortal life, you hesitate. “Why should I trust you?”

“What?”

“How do I know if I let you in now, it won’t come back to bite me in the ass?” you ask, your arms crossed.

Klaus doesn’t seem to understand your concern. “Love, you realize that’s a hybrid bite. I don’t think you have the time for this.”

“So you admit that you would use it later?”

His face scrunches up. “That’s not—no I wouldn’t do that—just please let me in,” he says, giving you a sincere look that threatens to break down your walls. Just as you’re about to question him more, a wave of pain washes over your body. You let out a groan as you slightly stumble back. “Y/N?” The pain grows more intense and you let out a whimper before you collapse onto your knees. “Y/N!” It’s as if your body is at war with itself and you can feel every impact of it.

“You have to let me in, just say the words and I can help you. Please!” You hear Klaus say from the window. But it’s hard to find words when the pain is so intense. You want it to stop. “Y/N!” You hear him bang his fist against the walls of your house.

You slowly lift your head up to see his worried face, desperately waiting for you to let him in. You no longer care if this will come back to haunt you. You take a few deep breaths before you say, “Come in.”

As soon as the words take effect, Klaus rushes into the house and scoops you into his arms. You clutch at his chest, not thinking of anything but the pain. He carries you over to the bed and gently places you down before quickly running over to the window to close it. The pain seems to be dwindling down but you know it’ll be back. Your whole body is so weak, you used the last of your strength to walk over and talk to Klaus.

Speaking of, he’s quickly back at your bedside, eyes furiously scanning you for signs of physical distress. Then his eyes lock on yours and you feel your breath hitch. “You have to drink my blood,” he says quietly to you.

You know that that’s the cure and that it will save you, but you’re still hesitant. This is Klaus you’re talking about. The big bad hybrid who’s been attacking your friends and causing chaos for weeks now. And yet for some reason, a part of you wants to trust him. A part of you wants to give in to the idea that he could be good. But how can you trust him when you can’t even trust your own instincts?

He must sense your hesitation, because he leans down to look into your eyes. When you look at him, you’re stuck by how truly beautiful he is. His eyes are a beautiful blue, but more than that, they hold a look of sincerity in them. “I know you don’t trust me, I wouldn’t either,” he says. “But this is what’s going to save you. So please, take a chance. What have you got to lose?”

He does have a point.

“I don’t want to die,” you admit in a small voice. Your breath stutters as you let the fear bubbling inside of you rise to the surface. Klaus’s look is sympathetic.

“I don’t want that either,” he whispers. Your eyes meet and you feel caught in them. “Let me help you.”

Maybe it’s because this is a different, more sincere side of Klaus that you’ve never seen before. Maybe it’s because your friends are gone and you’re feeling vulnerable. Maybe it’s because your instincts seem to have aligned. Either way, you nod your head.

He offers you a small smile. He then sits on the bed and gently shifts you so that you’re leaning against his chest. You’re too weak to move yourself. Klaus rolls up his sleeve and bites down on his wrist before bringing it close to your lips. You’re tempted but look at him to make sure it’s okay first. He nods and you sink your teeth into his wrist.

At first, you feel weird about the situation. But then you lean into it and begin to enjoy it. Klaus whispers encouragingly in your ear as his blood enters your body. You can feel your strength begin to return and the fog in your brain clear. You almost don’t want to stop, and the way Klaus is petting your hair doesn’t help. But eventually, you know you’ve had enough, so you pull away.

“Wasn’t so bad, eh?” Klaus says and you look up to see him smiling down at you. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so.”

“Then I guess my work here is done.” He moves you so you’re lying back on your bed, but when he moves to leave, you grab his arm. He looks back, confused.

“Why did you do that?” When his confusion doesn’t clear, you clarify. “Why did you help me?”

He looks down at the floor and his lip twitches into a smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, love, but I quite fancy you. Wouldn’t want you dying on me before I’ve had a chance to win you over.”

His words shock you enough to let go of his arm. The strangest part is that he looks sincere about it. “But…you actually like me? Like, that wasn’t all an act?” you ask. Both of you seem to be confused by the other.

“Why would I do that?” You start to feel embarrassed.

“To—to get on the group’s nerves? To throw us off?”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might just like you?” To be honest, the thought hadn’t occurred to you. Trickery made more sense.

“Yes,” you say and then wish you didn’t. “I—I mean, why me? Why not Caroline or Bonnie?”

“Besides the fact that you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on?” he asks and you’re suddenly glad it’s dark because your cheeks are on fire right now. “Because you’re different.” That doesn’t make you feel so great. He must have picked up on that because he catches your eye and says, “Because you’re better.” The idea makes you flustered, that anyone would think you’re better than them, let alone a powerful hybrid like Klaus.

“I still don’t understand.”

“Hmm.” He seems to think on what to say before smirking. “Then I guess I’ll have to do a better job at showing you.” When he winks at you, you think your face might be on fire from how hot it is. Once again, he turns to leave.

“Thank you,” you call out which makes him stop in his tracks. He turns around to face you and seems confused by your words. But you mean them. He didn’t have to save you, you gave him nothing in return, and yet he did.

He smiles and you think it’s much better than the fake ones he gives to the group. “Of course love,” he says. “Couldn’t have my favourite vampire dying on me.” You give him a smile back, genuinely happy to hear someone say that to you.

Then your eyelids begin to feel heavy and you have to blink rapidly to stay awake. Klaus sees this and says, “Goodnight, my love,” before opening your bedroom window.

“Goodnight,” you say back as you watch the window close. You lay back down on your bed, thankful to no longer be dying. You guess you have your new saviour to thank for that. As you close your eyes, you can’t help but see Klaus in a different light. Not as a villain, but as a complicated man. You don’t think your friends are going to like your change of heart, so for now you’ll keep it to yourself. You’ll be content in knowing that maybe the big bad hybrid isn’t so bad after all.

[storywriter007]

can you do a “fighting for the first time” preference/headcannons with the HoO boys ? i love ur work!!

Fighting for the First Time - HoO Boys x Fem!Reader

author's note: thank you for the request!! and i'm so glad you like my work, this literally made my day. this is what i feel like first fights (non-quest related) would go but add your ideas in the comments!!

genre: angst ending in fluff

word count: 1.5k but it's all in bullet points

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

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percy jackson

the first time you guys seriously fight, it goes one of two ways

either a.) he doesn't care about who's right and just wants things to go back to normal or b.) he thinks he's right

option a is the preferred option

he tries to talk to you, finding you whenever and wherever

he refuses to leave until the problem is sorted out

and he is upset the entire duration of the fight

he apologizes for anything

"i'm sorry if i did anything at all to hurt you" kind of apology

option a fights would be over things like unintentionally hurting each-other

like accidentally saying something mean or sparring too roughly with each-other

or it would be over his reckless behavior

in which he understands why it worries you

this first fight wouldn't last long

maybe a day before you guys are all good again

option b is the worst

when he's convinced he's right, he tunes you out

not intentionally, it's just that he's too caught up in what he's feeling to properly listen to you

you guys go back and forth in circles

practically yelling at each-other

his eyes get dark and he becomes angry quickly

refuses to listen to you until things reach a tipping point

either you or him storm out and leave the other one alone for a few days and talk it out once they've cooled down

or one of you starts crying, and the anger is overshadowed by guilt and heartbreak bc of their ignorance

this fight would probably be over his loved ones

if you had pointed out a flaw about them or something they did which you didn't appreciate

or maybe just a passing comment you unintentionally made

i mean the loyalty on that man is crazy

lots of hurt feelings during this fight

and it would last a while - the most being a week

however, both fights would have a mutual apology

where both of you apologize for the things you've said and done

and you guys agree to do better in the future

you probs end up falling asleep in cabin 3 that night

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jason grace

to get in a serious fight with him, it's gotta be something big

jason is calm and level-headed

he takes a walk the first time things get heated and comes back to you with a clear mind

he talks to you calmly, treating the fight more like a debate

don't get it wrong though: internally he's freaking out

he's lost a lot, and he doesn't want to lose you

honestly your first serious fight with him would be over reckless behavior (on your end) or him being walked over

your first serious fight spawns from how deeply you two care for each-other

either he's mad you don't care about yourself and doesn't know how to tell you calmly bc you don't listen

or you're mad that he's ready to die for gods and kids who don't care about him in the least

you guys only fight about these things because light-hearted conversations don't send the message

jason, especially, stays stern during the fight

you wonder if he even cares tbh

but then you notice how he pauses and searches for words, how his lip twitches when you say something snappy, and the look in his eyes

he barely raises his voice, and only does it when you interrupt him constantly

the first fight would end within a day

it would end with revealing why you are reckless or why he is so selfless

it would be a calm, vulnerable conversation

would probs end in a make-out session bc he was so afraid he was gonna lose you

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leo valdez

i'm going to be so real rn: the fight starts because he's feeling inferior

he loves you sm and he considers himself lucky to have you

but bc of that - his feeling of inferiority would be on the back of his mind

he's not really jealous, but more-so afraid you're going to leave him at the drop of a hat like how everyone else has

so he gets upset if you're spending too much time around any other guy

the book series repeatedly talks about leo's insecurities and how he feels like he's not good enough and how he feels everything is his fault

insecurity runs deep and it would most definitely be a reason for a fight

you guys do raise your voices bc at first you're not understanding each-other

you think he's jealous and he thinks you don't want to be with him anymore

after you guys are done with your screaming match, leo would coop up wherever his machines are

he would stay there for a long time and think

he 100% is over analyzing every single thing you said to him

he's convinced you guys are going to break up and you're going to leave him

and he deserves it because it's his fault for starting the argument

even though he isn't jealous or thinks you're a cheater, he just let his insecurities get the best of him

and he feels like it's over for you two

he doubts himself; wondering if he should even try to talk to you or just let what he believes is the inevitable happen

so he doesn't even try to apologize

he is convinced it is all his fault

overworks himself in an attempt to distract himself from all of his terrible thoughts

you, on the other hand, have your time alone and want to talk to him

it's nighttime and he's nowhere to be found

you go to his little lab and voila, there he is

his eyes are red and sunken and his hands are shaky and dirty

you don't say anything, you just hug him

he breaks down and tells you why he was actually mad

he profusely apologizes and doesn't blame you if you want to break up

you explain to him that you are with him because you love him and that one little fight would never make you leave him

you reassure him that he is more than enough

this fight doesn't last more than a day or maybe two

the fight would end with a really intense kiss

and you would probably spend the rest of the night with him in his little work area

you'd watch movies, make jokes, laugh a lot, and company him while he manically works on something

that something is metal flowers as an apology for acting the way he did

it's his way of saying "we're stuck together and i love you :)"

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frank zhang

it's difficult to get into a serious fight with frank

but if you do, it would be over reckless behavior (on your end, c'mon y/n) or his own insecurity

your reckless behavior specifically with fire

frank and fire do not get along - it's well known

he literally can't stand you doing something dangerous in general

but with fire, it's even worse

he's convinced something terrible is going to happen and he lashes out at you bc of his previous experiences with fire

this fight would be short-lived though, bc you would understand why he feels that way

you'd apologize to him and he would apologize for lashing out

you'd agree to stop joking around with fire, but you'd convince him to start getting over his fear

this first fight actually ends up more helpful in the long run as frank slowly overcomes his fear of fire with you by his side

however, if it's his own insecurities, this would go another way

as mentioned, frank has been bullied

and he repeatedly feels like an outcast because he doesn't have dyslexia/adhd, he's an archer but he's a mars kid, and his life depends on a piece of firewood

your fight would start bc he felt left out with you

but it's just him overthinking

(if you use a sword) it's you sparring with jason or percy for practice

and it kinda makes him feel like "i want to help my gf but she needs someone who's actually good"

if you hang out with another mars kid for too long

makes him think "what i should be"

if you made a jab at him that he took a little too seriously

frank is a gentle giant, so he wouldn't yell in the least

you guys would argue and he'd be lost for words, kind of stuttering and repeating himself a lot

he'd just kinda walk off during an argument

this would make you mad bc he started the thing and doesn't want to listen to you

but really, he just wants to talk to you when it's not so heated

you'd go hide in your cabin/room

frank would be walking around and comes to the realization that walking out on your argument was a douchebag move

he shapeshifts into like a rat or a bug or something to go see you in your cabin and make sure you're not hurt

you'd see some random animal in your cabin and you get freaked out

he turn back into himself and apologizes for being rash

he'd be honest and tell you that he was just overthinking things and that he just got in his own head

you accept his apology and tell him to communicate better

to tell you if he feels left out or if he doesn't think something is funny, and to tell you that's he's leaving the argument bc he wants to think abt it

this fight is over by sundown

and you spend the rest of the evening practicing archery with him

[popponn]

from the outsider's view. [itoshi sae x reader]

notes: admittedly, no braincell here only "sae unconditionally lovey dovey" thought (ft. kaiser). i miss sae. and i want him to be happy for a bit. this guy seems like when he is committed he will become the commitment itself despite everything. cute in the way the sort of type who will put in the effort and worth the effort when he is the right person. also, happy cny ❤ warnings: cursings (it's kaiser). fluff. kaiser's pov aka outsider's pov, sae & you being lovey dovey, established relationship, reader's gender unspecified, post canon au, heavy hc that sae & kaiser doesn't get along (outside of the field esp). please don't look to closely into this. @doobea thank u for betaing beloved ♡❀

By any means, it is not as if Kaiser actively tries to murder Sae every time they meet.

But it also doesn’t mean he is buddy-buddy with him either. Honestly, Kaiser hates a lot of people’s guts—Yoichi and Noa currently contending for the #1 spot, sure, but Sae is pretty close up there if he has to list them down. The reason is not particularly complicated for this one, as anyone who has met Sae would agree he is a natural at making enemies. That mid-fielder is one of those people who will do better as a human being if they shut up and not pick up a fight with each breath they take.

So, imagine his surprise to meet the redhead—with you by his side, hand in hand—during a casual outing for some convenience store snack in broad daylight.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Kaiser doesn’t waste a second to ask the moment their eyes meet each other. Kaiser really doesn’t want to have a jerk greeting him the moment he tries to get into an aisle yet here he is.

Sae squints at him in a more offensive manner than usual and then subtly—but very obvious to Kaiser’s eye—pushes you slightly behind his back as if Kaiser might do something to you. Which is wrong—even if Kaiser is very aware he is not the shining beacon of goodness. “Shopping, clearly. What else?”

“Someone you know, Sae?” your voice asks from behind your assumed-boyfriend. Kaiser glances slightly at the blatantly color-coordinated casual clothes. Disgusting. Definitely a boyfriend then. “Oh! Is that Michael Kaiser?”

Kaiser raises an eyebrow as he meets your gleaming eyes. He certainly didn’t expect Itoshi Fucking Sae’s partner to acknowledge him with such enthusiasm. He expected someone who is more or less as bitchy as bitchy as the guy. A smile that has been trained for PR events forms itself on Kaiser’s face, “Why, hello—”

“It’s not,” Sae quickly cuts in. “Just some bugs. Let’s just get the drink and go.”

Fucking Sae.

“Now, now,” Kaiser sneers, his grin widening into an irritated smirk as he approaches closer towards Sae. Said dickhead responds by tugging you closer to him. Sae better be one of those types of unreasonably cutesy protective boyfriends or Kaiser might actually start taking offenses and maim him for real. “Is that a way to greet ‘a friend’, Sae? And—” Kaiser moves on to you, “—hello there.”

The quotation mark hangs heavily in the air. Sae scoffs while you finally get the chance to address Kaiser’s existence politely and introduce yourself, “Hello! Nice to meet you!”

How the fuck did someone who knows basic manners end up with Sae? Kaiser genuinely wants to know if you got paid for this or something. He will ask if it’s not for the fact Sae seems to be itching to claw the hell out of his face. Kaiser really doesn’t want to get lectured for a public incident if he actually gives in to the urge to sock Sae’s resting bitch face. So, instead, he keeps his focus on you even while keeping his sentence directed to you both, “I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought Sae is allergic to store-bought products.”

You laugh at that, whilst Sae sends you a sharp glare—that has a hint of besotted lovesick gaze in it what the fuck—that you promptly ignore in favor of answering Kaiser instead. “Yeah, he is a bit nosy sometimes, huh?” you muse fondly, “But he is open to some products, thankfully.”

Sae pipes in, “Hey.”

“Come on, it’s true,” you reply shortly. As your eyes meet Sae, the besotted lovesick gaze returns, this time reciprocated by your equally lovelorn affectionate one. Kaiser really doesn’t want to see this.

“Hmph,” Sae breathes out like some grumpy mangy cat. Then, as if he truly is some kitty raising up its fur and tail, Sae returns his glare to Kaiser. The way one of Sae’s hand wrap around your shoulder to press you close doesn’t escape Kaiser’s eyes. And the most annoying thing is perhaps the way that it evidently isn’t like Sae deliberately shows it to him like some territorial jealous dickhead. It’s like watching someone taking in a breath and that breath is some lovey-dovey fuckery. “We are going. Let’s go.”

As much as Kaiser wants to make Sae suffer a little bit more via playfully flirting with you or something, being a third wheel to the elder Itoshi sounds so awful it’s not even worth trying. Next time the two Itoshis duke it out by being on the opposite team, Kaiser genuinely considers rooting for the younger one just so he can see Sae fail. And also out of some twisted camaraderie because imagining being a witness to this frequently—one really either builds up some immunity or turns insane.

The sort of guy who casually must touch his lover all the time is unbearable to watch.

So, good fucking riddance.

“Shoo,” Kaiser waves Sae away. And the way you look at Sae like the redhead is the most wonderful man alive lowers Kaiser’s opinion of you enough for that wave to be directed at you too. Get a better taste.

You laugh nervously at their brief exchange as Sae drags you away. Kaiser too shifts his attention away from you. Unfortunately, turns out—fuck him—it isn’t enough to escape the barely audible whispers Sae shares with you as the two of you walk away from the aisle.

“You should be nicer. He is still someone you know.”

“He touched Isagi’s chin on their first meeting to fuck around—I’m not taking chances with that shithole.”

“Aw. I don’t think he will—he seems very aware I’m with you.”

“That guy is insane and it’s better to be ready to kick his dick when you have to. Don’t be too friendly with him next time.”

God. Kaiser wishes for a match with Sae soon just so he can duke it out with him without any repercussions.

[disciplined-cornfed]

Rome wasn't built in a day

Alex had never expected his college life to take this kind of turn. He’d moved to New York for school, planning to live on campus like most students, but when he found a better deal on an off-campus apartment that financial aid would cover, he jumped on it. The apartment was in a decent neighborhood, close to the subway, and the landlord didn’t ask too many questions. Seemed like a win.

What he hadn’t planned on, though, was Frank—his new roommate.

Frank was… something else. The guy was like a time capsule from a decade ago, straight out of Jersey Shore. From the gelled-back hair, the deep tan, ridiculous yelling at football and ufc matches every weekend, the flashy chains, to the relentless love of tank tops and gold watches. Alex wasn’t sure if Frank was for real or if this was just an elaborate, extended joke.

But here’s the thing: despite his douchey exterior, Frank was actually a pretty nice guy. Sure, he blasted club music at ungodly hours and flexed in the mirror every time he passed it, but Frank was always chill. He’d offer Alex food whenever he cooked, made sure the apartment was clean, and always gave him a heads-up when he had people over. Plus, Frank clearly knew what he was doing in the gym. The guy was shredded, and Alex had to admit, Frank’s discipline when it came to his diet and workout routine was impressive.

It didn’t take long before Alex’s curiosity got the best of him.

One day, after weeks of seeing Frank pound protein shakes and head to the gym religiously, Alex asked him for some advice. He had always been a casual gym-goer, but seeing Frank’s dedication made him wonder if he could up his own game.

“Yo, Frank,” Alex said one afternoon as they sat in the living room. “What do you usually eat for those gains, man? And how do you stay so consistent?”

Frank grinned, pausing the DJ Pauly D remix playing on his speakers. “Bro, it’s all about focus foods and the right lifts. Stick to lean meats, eggs, beans, lots of veggies. And you gotta hit the weights hard. No shortcuts.”

Alex nodded, scribbling down some notes on his phone. “Got any recommendations? Like content or something I can watch?”

Frank’s grin grew wider. “Oh, for sure. I’ll send you some stuff. There’s Dom Mazzetti, Vinny Guadagnino—some good shit, bro. But hey, I’ll send you my playlist too. Got a WAV file I use at the gym that keeps me hyped.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “A playlist?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s got some fire tracks. Also, I threw in some personal affirmations underneath it, helps me stay focused during my lifts. You probably won’t even notice them, but they help, bro. Trust me.”

Alex wasn’t really buying into the whole “subliminal affirmation” thing. It sounded like some weird self-help nonsense. But Frank was shredded, and if these little tricks worked for him, maybe they were worth a shot.

Later that evening, Alex plugged in his headphones and hit play on Frank’s WAV file. It started with “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky Me”—a male cover that felt oddly calming. The song transitioned into upbeat remixes like “Fireball” and other club tracks that seemed to pump adrenaline into his veins. Somewhere in between, Sinatra’s smooth voice made an appearance, bringing a strange, nostalgic energy to the mix.

As the playlist played, Alex caught faint whispers beneath the music—barely noticeable. “You love the gym. You crave the weights. Tanning makes you feel amazing. You rep the Italian pride with every lift.”

He chuckled to himself. This subliminal shit can’t be real, he thought. But, whatever—Frank swears by it.

The playlist ended with “Lucky, Lucky Me” again, and as Alex dozed off that night, the tune echoed faintly in his head.

The changes didn’t happen overnight, but as the days went by, Alex began to notice subtle differences. It started with his workouts. He’d always been someone who worked out occasionally, but now there was something different. One morning, as he walked past the gym on his way to class, he felt an urge—a need to lift. It wasn’t just about getting in shape anymore. Something about the weights called to him, pulling him in.

He ended up inside, grabbing a set of dumbbells and diving into a full workout. By the time he finished, he was drenched in sweat, but instead of feeling exhausted, he felt exhilarated. There was a rush—an energy that coursed through him, leaving him wanting more.

From that point on, the gym became part of his daily routine. At first, he didn’t even realize it was happening. He started following Frank’s tips—lifting heavier, focusing on compound movements, and pushing himself harder with each session. His muscles responded quickly, growing faster than they ever had before. His shirts started to fit tighter, hugging his chest and arms in ways they never had before. Every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t help but flex, admiring his progress.

It wasn’t just the gym either. One afternoon, Alex caught himself in front of the bathroom mirror, noticing how pale his skin looked under the fluorescent lights. Without thinking much of it, he booked an appointment at the tanning salon down the street. After his first session, he looked at himself in the mirror, marveling at the golden glow on his skin. It made him feel good, confident—like he was stepping into a new version of himself.

Tanning became part of his routine, just like the gym. He started looking forward to that golden glow, the way it made his muscles stand out more, and how it just felt right.

One weekend, Alex found himself wandering into a clothing store, drawn to a section of tank tops with bold prints—Italian flags, American flags, vibrant colors that screamed confidence. He picked up a few without thinking twice, the fabric feeling perfect against his newly defined arms. When he got home and slipped into one of the tanks, he stood in front of the mirror, flexing his biceps. The tank hugged his body in all the right places, and as he admired his reflection, a grin spread across his face.

Damn, I look good.

It wasn’t just the clothes that made him feel this way—it was the pride, the feeling of representing his heritage with every lift, every flex. It felt right.

The most surprising change came with his voice. At first, it was barely noticeable—a slight shift in his accent, a few new words slipping into his vocabulary. But as the weeks went on, the transformation in his speech became undeniable. His voice took on a thicker Jersey inflection, and words like “bro” and “yo” started slipping out naturally, almost without him realizing it. He spoke with more confidence, more swagger, his words carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before.

He even noticed how loud he’d become, but it wasn’t obnoxious—it felt like he was owning the room. His friends started to comment on it, but Alex didn’t mind. It felt like the way he was supposed to talk, like his voice was finally matching the rest of his transformation.

One night, Alex found himself scrolling through YouTube, where he came across a Dom Mazzetti video. He clicked on it, expecting to laugh at the over-the-top persona, but something else happened. As Dom joked about gym culture, diet, and lifting, Alex found himself nodding along, relating to the lifestyle. The gym wasn’t just a place to work out anymore—it was part of who he was becoming.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Alex’s days revolved around the gym, tanning, and repping his heritage with pride. He found himself following more content creators who embodied the same mindset—guys who lived for the grind, the lifts, and the pride in who they were.

His roommate Frank noticed the changes, too. “Bro, you’re looking jacked,” Frank said one afternoon as Alex flexed in the mirror before heading out to the gym. “You flexing the gains hard now.”

Alex grinned, running a hand through his hair, which he’d started gelling back every morning. “Yeah, man. It just feels right, you know?”

Frank clapped him on the shoulder, a proud smirk on his face. “Told ya. Once you get in the groove, there’s no going back. You’re one of us now, bro. Tanning, lifting, and heritage. Welcome to the crew.”

Alex chuckled, feeling Frank’s words sink in. Wasn’t just about the workouts or the diet no more. It was the whole package—the attitude, the pride, the way he carried himself. He’d become confident, bold, and unapologetic. The gym had become his temple, and every flex in the mirror, every perfectly tanned muscle, reminded him of how far he’d come.

He spoke with more confidence now, his voice carrying a thick Jersey accent that seemed to come naturally. Words like “bro” and “yo” slipped out effortlessly, and he found himself embracing the louder, more assertive side of himself. Even his walk had changed—there was more swagger, more presence.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later, Alex and Frank were sitting in the living room, scrolling through profiles of potential new roommates. Their lease was ending soon, and they needed to find someone to fill the third room. Frank leaned back in his chair, sipping a protein shake as he swiped through a list of candidates.

“Yo, check this one out,” Alex said, pausing on a profile. “Marco Ricci. Italian last name.”

Frank raised an eyebrow and leaned in, studying the screen. “Oh shit, an Italian? That’s promising.”

They opened Marco’s profile, but instead of seeing someone flexing or rocking a tan, Marco looked... pretty regular. He wasn’t out of shape, but he wasn’t exactly lifting heavy either. Pale, with a pretty average physique, he was the kind of guy who didn’t seem to spend much time at the gym. His shirt was plain, and his expression, while friendly, was far from the confident swagger Alex and Frank had come to expect in their circle.

Alex chuckled, nudging Frank. “Dude’s kinda pasty, huh?”

Frank smirked. “Yeah, bro. Definitely needs some work. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know? He’s got the Italian blood—that’s what counts. We can mold him.”

Alex nodded, his mind already racing. Marco might not be there yet, but with the right guidance, who knows? The guy had potential. He just needed some direction.

“Yeah,” Alex said, swiping right on Marco’s profile. “We’ll get him there. If he’s down to move in, I have the perfect playlist in mind."

Frank chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “Bro, he won’t know what hit him.”

Alex grinned, flexing in the mirror nearby. “Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?”

Frank laughed again, raising his protein shake in a mock toast. “Damn straight, bro."

WANNA BECOME A GUIDO FOR REAL? Try this subliminal:

Guido Subliminal (Accent, Mindset, Discipline, Extreme Confidence)

[swanlakebaby]

his secretary | pjm

prompt: jimin fucking his secretary

⸝⸝ pairing: dom!jimin x fem!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: smut, dom jimin, sub reader, boss jimin, secretary, kissing, risky, sneaky, risky sex, cumming, orgasm, 18+

⸝⸝ word count: 1.6k

⸝⸝ note: kinktober 🎃 day seven :) i’ve been reading a lot of mystery books lately and i’ve decided i want to start a mini mystery series (with jimin ofc). this wouldn’t be a jimin x reader since there’d be a main character and she’d have a name… but i don’t know if people will be into that? if you are, send me name ideas in my requests :3 1. that would help A LOT & 2. i’d know people actually want to see something like that from me :,)

nsfw, 18+, minors dni

-

the elevator door dings, indicating you’ve reached your desired floor. you step off and look around. the hallways were empty. you frowned at the unusual sight. where is everyone? you thought to yourself. you took a left and began making your way down the quiet hallway. you stopped at the end of it and peeked into one of the meeting rooms. empty. it seemed like everyone had already left for the day, but it was only twelve.

“what do you think you’re doing?” a familiar voice said from behind you. you jump slightly and spin around. jimin stood there, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he furrowed a curious eyebrow at you. “i was just—” you start before jimin cuts you off. “save it. come with me.” he turns on his heel, not allowing you to protest and heads toward the other end of the hallway until he reaches a private office space. his office was cold and neatly decorated, a large leather chair center of his computer desk with two smaller sets of the same style of his chair on the other side. “take a seat.” he says, closing his office door.”

he sits down and folds his arms over each other onto the desk. he doesn’t say anything and instead observes you. you began feeling tense and awkward, unsure of what the hell was even going on. “so, do you want to tell me why you were wondering around instead of doing your job?” jimin says finally, typing things into his computer. “it’s not like that…i got an email from one of the executives…he needed a refill on printer ink in his office. i was just going to replace it.” you explain to him. this explanation seems to irritate jimin more than reassure him. he combs his fingers through his hair and takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“how long have you been working here?” he asks. “almost two years, you know this.” you say in response, getting annoyed yourself. “right, and you should know that the seventh floor is always cleared out during lunch time. right?” jimin says, standing up and walking over to a tall cabinet that stood against the wall of his office. he grabbed a box of printer ink out of it and placed it on his desk. “i will email him and tell him to pick it up on his own time. you don’t work for him, you work for me. remember?” jimin says, blinking a few times out of annoyance before sitting back down. “yes sir.” you say with a nod. “can i go now?” you began sitting up. “one more thing..” jimin reaches down and opens a drawer from the side of his desk, pulling out a few stacks of papers. “i need these put into official packets. i need fifteen printed copies of this packet and i need them stapled and ordered into individual files. i have an important meeting and i need them ready for it. understood?” he says.

you knew he wasn’t actually asking if you understood, so you just took the papers and stood up, adjusting your office skirt and turn around to leave his office. “dick.” you say to yourself as you reach the elevators and head back to your desk.

when the day was over, you tiredly took the elevator up to the seventh floor. you knocked on jimin’s door and a soft “come in” prompted you to open his door. you walk in and place the fifteen copies of files onto his desk. he grabs one of them and skims through it, making sure you did your job right. “excellent work per usual.” he says satisfied, placing the file back. he stands up and walks over to you, catching you off guard. “are you leaving for the day?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. “it’s three thirty so…yeah.” you say, looking down at your watch. “well, i guess i was being a bit of an asshole earlier right? i don’t want you to think i was on some sort of power trip like every other arrogant executive here.”

“mr. park, i didn’t know my opinion of you mattered so much.” you tease with a smile on your face. he chuckles, leaning back on his desk. “it does.” jimin steps closer to you, until you feel his soft breath against your skin. “stay late and have dinner with me.” he says. it didn’t seem like an option. “isn’t that quite unprofessional? it’s not even working hours.” jimin shakes his head. “don’t worry about it. what are you in the mood for?”

he reaches over his desk and picks up his phone. “i’ll just take my food to go if that’s okay. i don’t mind indian.” you say. he quickly orders indian take out and places his phone back onto his desk when he’s done. he stands there, looking at you, the same way he did earlier that day. “what..?” you ask, becoming flustered. he suddenly made you feel giddy and anxious, like he was constantly checking you out. “you don’t realize it, but you can come off quite attractive.” jimin says casually. you began to feel heat rise to your cheeks over jimin’s words. “well— thank you.” you look down awkwardly. jimin cups his hand on your chin and tilts your head up. without warning, he plants a soft kiss on your lips. pulling away slowly as he looks into your eyes. jimin smirked, knowing the affect he had on you.

he smelled clean and masculine, making you feel weak at the knees. jimin didn’t have on his suit jacket, his white collared shirt tugging at his body, showing off his lean figure. it felt like a random spark was lit and then set off between the two of you.

within the next few seconds, he was shirtless and hovering over you on his desk. his naked chest brushed against yours each time he bent down lower to give you a kiss on the lips. he began trailing them down, further and further. he made his way back up to you, his boxers rubbing against the fabric of your thin panties. your legs dangled off of his desk as he stood in between them. he opened a drawer and rummaged through a small pack of condoms, taking one out and impatiently ripping it open with his teeth. “really?” you furrow your eyebrow. “condoms in your office drawer?”

he chuckles, sliding his boxers down and putting the condom on. “don’t think i just go around fucking my employees. i was meant to take these home, i just got lucky.” he said with a wink. he slid your panties down, pulling one of your legs out of the hole. the panties casually dangled from your ankle as jimin lifted up your legs. you lay flat on his desk, ready for him. it felt as if this wasn’t your first time hooking up with him, like this was another causal friday. he slid right into you, your walls wrapping around him. he groaned as he fucked you, trying to be quiet in case any of the cleaning ladies so happened to be on this floor.

you locked his legs around his waist as he pounded himself into you, his eyes rolling back as you pushed him deeper inside of you. you held onto his arms, your back arched slightly above the desk. he sits you up and wraps an arm around your waist, picking you up causally and gently placing you back on the ground on your two feet. he turns you around and bends you forward over the desk, lifting one of your legs onto it as well. he continued fucking you, giving you light snacks on the butt.

he reached over you multiple times, covering his hand over your mouth, trying to refrain you from making too much noise. you wanted to feel all of him, the plastic barrier making frustrating you. you pull jimin away far back enough for him to slide out of you. you look behind your shoulder and wrap your hand around his dick, slowly sliding the condom off. he looks at you, furrowing his eyebrow. “are you sure?” he asks. you bite your lip and toss the condom onto the floor, turning back around and shaking your butt at him.

he wastes no time and slowly slides back into you, a low groan escaping his lips. you bit your finger, trying not to moan and try out. nothing ever compared to the full, raw, real thing. jimin couldn’t help but groan, holding onto your hips as he fucked you. he squeezed at your butt cheeks, picking up the pace a bit. you gripped onto the sides of his desk and fucking yourself back into him.

jimin’s body began to shudder as he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. he kissed you shoulder, stuffing his face into your neck and shutting his eyes. the intense session was too much to handle and you felt yourself craving more of him, but you knew that you had to stop now while you could get away with it.

jimin finally pulled himself off of you and pulled his pants up, you did the same and pulled up your panties, pulling your work skirt back down over your butt. he grabbed the wet condom and threw it into the trash along with the wrapper.

he then sat down at his desk, clicking away at the computer. you sat across from him until the food finally came, one of the front desk ladies bringing it up for us before heading back down. you both sat in silence, like as if nothing had just happened and you figured that was how it was going to be from now on. you would go to work tomorrow and the next day, and the days after that and pretend that nothing ever happened.

-

tags: @ririkookiemonster

(comment/ dm to be added)

[amara-scott]

Imagine Mattheo and Theodore fighting over you constantly.

P.2 // MATTHEO'S ENDING

P.1 // HERE

“It’s true, isn’t it?” My head snaps around, Theo’s sad eyes glossy. He looks down, stepping closer and stops a foot from me. His eyes wandering back up, like he’s taking one last good look at me. Taking me in.

“It’s always been him.” He continues.

“It’s always been him.” Theo's words are buzzing around in my head now and then. Every time I try to study, eat, sleep.

A few days have passed and my head still keeps me awake most nights. During classes, I tried to focus on what the professors were saying- but failed miserably.

Pansy tried to get through to me, sitting beside me during every meal and while I studied in the library. Just like right now. My eyes are fixed on the upper level, where it happened. I have to think back to Matt's eyes. The way his face dropped. The face I haven't seen in a while and catch myself missing deeply.

He has ignored me ever since. Theo at least tried to get over the fact that I discovered what they were fighting about all the time. He even sent me a small smile during lunch today. But one that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"-We could go to Hogsmeade, get some fresh air?" I blink back into reality and sigh, closing my book. I shrug, sitting back in the chair and chew on my bottom lip.

"I'll take that as a yes." She stuffs our books into her bag and stands up, pulling me after her by my hand. Back in our dorm room, we got dressed and cosy up, today was a chilly October day. I buttoned up the last few buttons on my coat. We walk up the stairs, down the hall and out of the castle. All in peace. No annoying Draco in sight. No Blaise pulling a prank. No Matt hexing a first year.

"Listen, Y/N –" I look up and try not to roll my eyes, knowing what will come next. "– hey! Don't do that. I don't get a kick out of this either, okay?" I glance over and nod. She hooks her arm with mine as we walk on the path to Hogsmeade.

"I know, sorry. It's just – I'm so tired." I wipe my eye, probably smudging my mascara, but I don't care enough to fix it.

"Trust me, I know. You lay awake and toss and turn a lot lately." She sends me a small smile and I huff a laugh, nudging my shoulder with hers.

"Do you think it would help if I talked to Matt?" She asks and I frown, shaking my head.

"I don't want him to think I don't care enough to go up to him." She nods.

"I get it."

The rest of the way we talk about everything but him. But my mind is clouded with every moment we ever shared. I try to find out if I missed the hints. Missed a note he might have sent me. Overheard a sentence he breathed out. Or maybe misinterpreted an invitation to a party.

"Butterbeer?" I glance over at Pansy and nod, smiling as we enter the warm and welcoming Three Broomsticks. It's not too crowded. We walk a bit further to get a good seat in a booth. I sit by the window and take off my wool coat, rubbing my bare hands together. Pansy sits down across from me after ordering a few butterbeers for us.

"So, what do –"

"– Pansy! Y/N! –" Our heads go over to the voice, Enzo stumbles over, Theo and Draco trailing behind him. They were coming down from the second floor. Enzo falls into place beside Pansy and hugs her, making her squeal and I have to laugh at the view, they definitely have had a few butterbeers. Punched ones. Or maybe a different kind of substance. Draco rolls his eyes and greets us too. My eyes meet Theo's as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, glancing at the spot next to me. I patt the cushion and he looks up, raising a brow.

"Either you sit down now or I will." Draco says and frowns at him. Theo quickly slides in next to me and Draco pulls up a chair, sitting at the head of the table.

I look at my hands in my lap, playing with the ring on my pointy finger. I listen to Enzo's conversation with Pansy. Draco throws in a comment here and there. When Theo's knee bumps against mine, I look up at him. "Sorry." He mumbles, running his fingers through his hair. "How – how are you doing? Haven't seen you around a lot lately." He asks and I sigh, shrugging.

"Well, not too good." I admit and he nods, looking down at his hands, also playing with his fingers. "I'm sorry." He adds, looking back at me.

"For pressuring you. I feel like an idiot." He shakes his head to himself and smiles, waiting for my reaction.

"No! No – you don't have to apologize." I say and glance over to the door as it opens, holding my breath. A few more Hogwarts students come inside with red cheeks and thick clothing.

"He's not coming tonight." I meet Enzo's eyes and gulp. "Matt's been ignoring us all." He mumbles.

"It's all my fault."

"No, love – don't say that! He's a bloody, stupid git for acting that way." I raise my brows at Enzo's outburst and see Pansy covering her lips, holding back a grin. Draco chuckles and Theo joins in.

"He should have manned up way long ago and none of this would have happened."

Draco nods, rolling his eyes. "His constant blabbering about you irritated me to no end. No offence, Y/N." He talked about me? What did he say?

"Oh no." I glance at Theo and follow his line of sight. Matt. With – a girl? Is he for real? Who even is that?

"He's such a dimwit." Enzo mumbles, turning on the couch to get a better look at him. Matt and his friend haven't seen us yet, but I had enough. I feel like walking up to him right now and shaking him by his shoulders until he could think straight again.

I didn't notice my balled up fist until Theo takes my hand in his and I look up, still fuming. Matt and her sit not far from us, sharing a couch. His eyes meet mine.

"He's a fool, you know that." I huff at Theo's statement but nod. "Oh, believe me, I know." I mutter. Matt leans over to the girl, talking into her neck and making her giggle. I clench my jaw and force my eyes away. He's dead to me. Who in their right mind would do that?

I try to focus on the outdoors. Or my mug. Nothing really distracting me.

"Hey everyone." The utter audacity. Matt and his date stand next to a sitting Draco, looking at everyone. My eyes stay fixed on my empty glass. Everyone greets back. From the corner of my eye I see Matt laying his arm around her.

"Well, we don't want to intrude any further –" The girl says but Pansy slams down her mug, looking up at her.

"– you don't! This is quite entertaining, really. Why don't you take a seat? We can all make some room." I glare at her but she still smirks at Matt. A deathly smile. And we actually make room for them. Matt next to Theo and the girl next to Enzo. Well, this isn't awkward.

"I'd love to take a picture right now." Pansy adds and I roll my eyes, looking out the window again and biting my inner cheek. Draco and Matt start talking about Quidditch training as Enzo and Pansy fall back into conversation about Merlin knows what.

"What's your name." I can't hold back any longer and look at her. Only now taking her in. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a button nose. A blue tie around her neck. So Matt's into Ravenclaws now?

"Julie. And you? You're Y/N, right? Matt hasn't mentioned you yet but I guess rumor has it you're into him." I am now gripping my wand below the table tightly, thinking about all the ways I could curse her, what kind of potion I could pour into her morning tea or if chasing her into the forbidden forest would be enough.

"Oh, me? Quite passionately, actually. He is the man any woman would want, you want to know why?" I ask her, ready to burst. Theo sighs, muttering my name warningly, which I ignore. Julie frowns at me, looking uneasy, shifting in her seat.

"He's egoistical, he would never put you first. He plays with you – and your feelings – not caring about any consequences because, well, quite frankly they don't typically affect him. And the best part is, once he is ready to admit his feelings, he simply ignores you, having you toss and turn at night until you go mad. Sounds pretty good to me." I shrug and lean back with a tight smile, focusing on my glass again.

"Anyone else need another drink? I certainly do." I mumble at the end and stand up, taking my glass and climbing over the back of the couch. As I pass behind Julie, I send Pansy a look of disgust. She shakes her beaming head at me, looking like a proud mom.

At the bar I take a deep breath, slowly feeling my heart sinking and reality kicking in. That he is all that what I described him as. But also the one who made me feel special and loved. Cared about. I press my teeth together as I feel a wave of utter despair hit me. I gesture to my empty mug as a bartender sees me. I tap my finger on the wooden bar top, debating if walking back to the table would be a good idea.

"Ouch." I glance over to him as he sits down next to me, sliding the mug forward. He sighs, leaning his crossed arms onto the counter top.

"Fuck off, Riddle." I turn my head, not wanting to take any of him in. Not his messy chocolate brown curls. Neither the dark circles under his eyes.

"I know, I deserved that." I nod at his statement.

"Would you look at me?" I glare at him, placing a hand on my hip.

"And now? What do you want, Riddle." He rolls his eyes, turning in his seat to face me.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously, I couldn't think of a single thing you would want from me right now." I get out and sound as harsh as I wanted to.

"Hey, everything okay over here?" The bartender asks, placing two filled mugs in front of us. We both look at him.

"Yes!" "Yes!"

We say in union, the guy raises his hands in defense and walks off. I turn back to Matt once more.

"I want to know why you're such a bitch to me." He says, his eyes boring into me as I let his words sink in. My mouth opening in shock.

"What?" I ask in disbelieve, daring him to repeat himself.

He stands up, stepping closer. I get up too and have to tilt my head but don't blink once as he towers over me. His fists by his sides and my hand hovering above my wand. Breath shallow.

"You heard me. "

*Slap.*

I pull my tingling hand back, still glaring up at him. His face is still turned to the side, one of his hands covering his cheek as he looks at me again.

"How dare you call me that, you ignorant –" I hit his chest.

"– thickheaded, –" Another hit.

"– senseless, –" Another one. He let me continue for a few more words until I was a crying mess and he held my hand that got weaker with every hit.

"You done yet, love?" He asks, a small smile on his lips. I frown, blinking a couple times to clear my vision.

"I don't think I will ever be." I mutter and he grins, looking down at the ground and slowly back up at me. The warm lights turning his eyes almost golden.

"I don't want you to." He mumbles and leans his head lower, my breath is quick but I can't even think of another word before his lips meet mine.

His arms grow around me like veins, pulling me closer to his chest and deepening the kiss. I tangle my hands into his hair, my stomach buzzing with an annoyingly sweet feeling. He smells so good.

As we part, I catch my breath, glancing at his slightly parted, puffy lips.

"You did that on purpose?" I ask, referring to the girl. He can't hold back a grin and nods.

"I'm sorry, I just had to know for sure if – you really wanted me the way I need you." I roll my eyes weakly, sighing.

"Boys."

"Your boy."

—

Tags for Mattheo's Endling:

@bbysebbystan @leona-hawthorne @vaseoftulips @readingthingsonhere @bluee-23 @elowynev @zoeonsaturn

— Theo's Ending is coming soon 🖤

[asahicore]

falling asleep with treasure !!

pairing. bf!treasure x reader genre. established relationship, fluff <//3 and crack (??) word count. 1.7k author's note. this has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long omg.. thank u to that one anon for remembering it existed and sending me an ask about it lmao! i had gotten this idea randomly thinking about clingy junkyu and then boom... this mess of a reaction slash headcanon slash idk thing came to life. hope u enjoy! it was also an excuse to use those photos of doyoung cz hes so cutie pie in them

fall asleep cuddling, drift apart while sleeping, wake up, notice you’re not cuddling, start cuddling again, and repeat - hyunsuk

hyunsuk gives off healthy mature long-term relationship vibes to me okay. i feel like a lot of couples that have been together for a while end up not cuddling while sleeping but rather get into their own comfortable sleeping positions, and then throughout the night, even though you’re so sleepy you’re barely conscious, when you realize that you’re not cuddling, you scooch back into each other’s arms. he always hits snooze on the alarm at least once in the morning just to get ten extra minutes of being with you before having to get up.

you both wake up stinky and sweaty every single time - jihoon

and it's because the two of you fall asleep in your cuddling position (usually you as the little spoon or resting your head on his chest, but you force him to let you spoon him sometimes), and then you don't. move. not an inch. if it gets too hot, one of you throws the blankets away, or gets rid of their pajama pants, or regains enough consciousness during the night to turn the fan on, but under no circumstances will you break away from your cuddling position - unless it is to get into another cuddling position, of course. it's quite nice, but it means that morning showers are obligatory, because you both smell atrocious after a night of being stuck to each other like glue on paper.

you’re not his partner, you’re his personal pillow - yoshi

you know those anime body pillows? yup. that's what you become when yoshi wants to cuddle. he gives me major cuddler vibes, so you’ll have tried every position in the book, but his favorite is definitely the one where he gets to use to your chest as a pillow and you graze your fingernails against his scalp. he’s got a leg hiked up over your hips and has his arms circling your waist and holding you tight. you can’t move. nothing will have him falling asleep as fast as that. your voice is like a lullaby to him, so he especially likes it if you talk to him in a low voice while he drifts off to sleep. he’s so happy he could fall asleep with a smile on his face. he’s so cute i’m going to off myself

you can’t escape the death hold he has on you - junkyu

a big portion of your time hanging out with junkyu is spent napping. something that surprises you every time is how even though he isn’t the touchiest of boyfriends, if you fall asleep cuddling, you literally cannot move unless you wake him up and make him let you go. forget going to the toilet when you wake up in the morning or getting a snack during your afternoon nap: if junkyu has you in his grip, you cannot escape. he doesn’t even seem to notice: he just wakes up with an innocent smile on his face, saying “oh, you’re awake, y/n?” even though you’ve been trying to discreetly untangle yourself from him for the past thirty minutes. 

*cutely drools on you* - jaehyuk

now i could NOT tell you why but jaehyuk gives me like… snorer and drooler vibes 😭 but like in a cute way okay… once he falls asleep he’s just out like a light, he can’t help it. he’s like those cartoon characters that sleep with their mouths wide open and there’s a bit of saliva at the corner of their lips. and they’re very light snores that are fun to record and embarrass him with. if you didn’t love him so much, it might give you the ick. but anyways, in terms of cuddling i see him as a mix of everyone above in a way; he loves both holding you close to him and being in your arms, he loves both rubbing your back or you playing with his hair, he loves falling asleep while cuddling but he’s also happy if you need more space and just have, like, your feet or hands touching. as long as you’re next to him he knows he’ll sleep well <3

wakes up every time you so much as move a finger - asahi

any asahi lore expert such as myself will know that asahi is a very light sleeper. i think for him cuddling is more of an activity than a way of falling asleep if that makes sense? like he’ll do it when you’re watching something, or when you’re talking and want to be physically close at the same time, but he just can’t fall asleep while cuddling. he also sweats easily, so the added warmth would just make it not fun for him 😭he’d do it for you if you really wanted it, but he’d rather just hold hands while sleeping or something like that. you’d also feel sorry for him with how often he woke up during the night, even if it was just for a few seconds, everytime you moved around too noisily or snored. he also always wakes up before you, and you’d need to have a conversation with him about how you’d rather wake up with him next to you rather than wake up without him, only to find him in the kitchen making breakfast for you :( he just wants to do something nice for him, but you’d rather be able to kiss him first thing in the morning!!!! sorry my bias is showing a bit

watches you while you sleep for so long it becomes creepy - doyoung

oh this boy 😭 if he falls asleep after you or wakes up before you, you just know he's going to be propping himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you with soft eyes and a fond smile because you're just the prettiest person in the world to him, and there's nothing else he'd rather be looking at. and he isn’t rattled in the slightest if you catch him doing it, too. he'll just smile wider and say "hey, baby" or "sleep well?", that fucker. it's lowkey creepy, but it's doyoung, so it's okay. it’s a bit jarring at first, locking eyes with someone right when you wake up, but you get used to it. i see him as similar to jaehyuk in the sense that he’s happy to fall asleep, cuddling or not cuddling, in whatever way you prefer. he’d probably like to fall asleep facing you so that he could see your face right as he woke up (in a lovely, enamored way, not in a creepy way!) 👍

keeps you from falling asleep but grumpy when you try to wake him up - jeongwoo

jeongwoo seriously gives me tired all day until it's time to go to bed vibes, like he'll usually be chill with bursts of energy here and there but in the evening he's like a cat with the zoomies. it's like 11pm and you're just trying to fall asleep because you have class or work the next day but your boyfriend is bouncing all over the room and talking a hundred words a minute, keeping you awake way past your bedtime. it's kinda cute sometimes, but most of the time, you want to suffocate him with your pillow. usually, though, he'll calm down if he sees you're really tired, or if you force him to stay in your arms and start threading your hands through his hair or rub patterns against his back - that really calms him down. he becomes super quiet instantly and can even fall asleep like that. but dear lord, when that alarm rings the next morning, you do not want to talk to him for the following fifteen minutes. he is so grumpy and sleepy in the morning, i just know. it's impossible to get him out of bed and you've just learnt to get up yourself and wait for him to wake up - although it's better to check that he hasn't fallen back asleep (which he usually has). he just keeps groaning for five more minutes and buries his head in his pillow to block the light out, but if you press a kiss to his cheek or forehead, that usually gets him to open his eyes and start smiling, then ask for a proper good morning kiss on the lips. this kid is annoying as hell, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

forgets his size and rests his whole body on you - haruto

haruto is like those big dogs that have no idea they're so big and wonder why they can't just lay on top of you. “it's because you're suffocating me, ruto! you're too heavy to rest your whole weight on me.” when you'd told him that, he pouted so hard and had seemed so genuinely upset that you apologized, took him back in your arms and simply neglected your need to breathe for a little longer. he is also one hundred percent that guy who will deny wanting cuddles or any sort of skinship, but if you don’t give it to him, he will be mad at you. if you do give it to him, he’ll pretend he doesn’t like it. you just have to be a mind reader, i guess. all this to say that even if he doesn’t tell you outright, haruto definitely wants to cuddle to sleep. sure, you can fall asleep in his arms if you really want (he loves it), but he’d rather fall asleep on you like yoshi does, even though he’s way too heavy for that.

you fight every time you have to decide who gets to be the little spoon - junghwan

my son.. do you guys know that “thank you myson!” jimin meme… anyways… junghwan might have buffed up over the years but do not get him wrong, that man is a little spoon until the day he dies. if you are also the little spoon, you will have to fight. simple as that. you can decide if it’ll be a tickle fight, an argument where you try to prove why you defend to be the little spoon more, or an actual fist fight (you might lose though), you’ll have to settle it one way or another. no matter how much both of you try to deny it, you love it either way anyway. as much as you love the feeling of his arms around you, there’s something about holding such a big man in your arms like he’s half the size that he is. 

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz @bucketofhiros (ask to be removed/added!)

treasure taglist: @mosviqu @nunoozi

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2024. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs always appreciated!

[darylbae]

Always read your fics and enjoyed them from afar , , why not send a request ! ^^ Don't feel pressured to write this too this is a little weird now that I read it over and sorry for the long req ! ! >< Could you write some an angsty or fluffy oneshot of a reader infected with the deadly flu during (i think) early season 4 and Daryl determined to cure her of the sickness. Them both having conversations between the glass of the prison where the reader is just at the point of giving up and accepting they'll die by this flu and Daryl is trying to give them hope. There's the scene with the group who went to the veterinary (..?) college/university to grab medicine for Hershel to use where they find out Bob didn't grab shit and Daryl just goes off at him because the reader was so kind and generous to him wdym you only grabbed BOOZE?? And then it ends with the reader who's cured of the flu, running into Daryl's arms both relieved and happy that they can finally hold each other again. Which ends in Daryl showering them in kisses because yay they're cured ! The idea just came to me while I was laying at the beach, "If the reader, his lover, was infected by the flu how much more angry would Daryl be with Bob when he only grabs alcohol?"

quarantine — daryl dixon

in which the flu catches up to you, and daryl is stressed about losing you

note: my requests are still open!! i have a few to write but im still happy to accept them! <3

Your job prior to the apocalypse was a caregiver to the elderly, so you had experience with a lot of medication and general practice of caring for someone. It's why Daryl had become so drawn to you, seeing you care for your people, or even people from Woodbury that had just been taken in, you gave everyone the same love and attention regardless of time spent with them. Daryl hadn't realised his longstanding affection for you until this flu outbreak within your prison community. You'd volunteered to help everyone alongside Herschel, caring more about the well-being of others more than your own. Until you'd gotten sick. "It was inevitable, honey," you spoke, not having the energy to even raise your voice above a whisper, "I'm glad I kept everyone in here hydrated, fed, and stable. But we're not seeing any progress." Daryl was on the other end of the window, eyes staring intensely into yours, wishing he could touch you, wishing he could hear your voice clear as day and not muffled due to being separated. Daryl sighed in defeat. "You don't deserve this." "Nobody does, but we need medication, Dar." You admitted. "It's the only way for people to get better, otherwise, we'll die in here." The thought of losing anyone else was enough of a push to find some medication, but the thought of losing you was enough to get him anywhere. He'd ride for days, hell, he'd walk for days if it meant you could get better. "I'm taking a group out, I'll get ya the meds. Just rest f'me, okay sweetheart?" Daryl was pleading now, you could hear the whine in his voice. You nodded, coughing into your hands as you hobbled away.

Days had passed. You couldn't get out of bed most mornings, even as Herschel did his rounds. Usually you'd join him, making sure everyone had water and food. But your bones ached, your head was pounding, you were sweating through your clothes. "Why don't the caregivers care for themselves, hm?" Herschel asked, entering your cell with a pitcher of water. You smiled painfully, reaching for your cup and holding it up for him. "Not used to it, I guess.." You wheezed, stabling yourself before another coughing fit. "How is everyone?" "Good as they can be, I guess." "Any word on the meds?" You asked, wanting to take the moment off yourself and onto a cure. Herschel shook his head. "Daryl keeps asking about you, though. It's rather sweet, really." "He is. Contrary to how he acts." You smiled, the thought of how he only acted around you. You'd caught him smiling a few times, even laughing at your terrible jokes. "I know a man in love when I see one."

Herschel had alerted you that Daryl was by the window again, asking for you. So you'd made the effort to hobble out of your cell and over to the window. And Daryl almost collapsed at the sight of you. Pale, hunched over in pain, sweat dripping from your skin. Your once glowing skin replaced with dullness, dark circles under your eyes. "Hey," you whispered, your hand on the glass, "how are you?" "How are you?" He asked, matching your hand with his and the both of you craved the feeling of the other's skin on yours. This was pure torture. "I can't do this anymore, Dar." You tried to take in a deep breathe, but you would wheeze as you did so. "It's getting harder. To talk, to walk, to move at all." Daryl's brows furrowed, trying to hold in every ounce of emotion threatening to spill out of him. "I know, sweetheart, I know." "They really need those meds in here, they're not getting any better." You confessed, there was no point trying to hide it now, you'd be walkers in a matter of days. "I'm gettin' em, I promise. Jus' been findin' fuel and supplies for our trip, we're leavin' today." Daryl mumbled, doubts and fears running rampant in his head. "Jus' came to say goodbye and I'll be back for ya." "I know you will, when I'm better I want a nice hug from you. It's the least bit of affection I deserve." You smiled, matching his as he shoved his middle finger up at you. But you knew what he meant. You could wait to tell him you loved him too.

Daryl had gone with Michonne, Bob, and Tyreece to a veterinary college for the medication, but Daryl couldn't think straight. He hadn't realised just how much you meant to him until you were isolated away from him. And he wasn't going to keep it to himself anymore. "We're in and we're out." Daryl instructed the team, leading them into the building. "Grab everything you can." He was so focused on finding the names of everything he needed, shoving it into his bag, he had his sights set on his objective and nobody else. Walkers had become the least of his worries. Even when the escapes had been overrun with walkers, he'd found a window which took them out to a roof. "We can walk over this roof, get us away from 'em." Daryl suggested, helping Michonne through the roof and carefully out of the building. The four steadily climbed out, aiming to walk along and find a quiet place to drop down, but Bob had lost balance and almost let go of his bag. Daryl turned, seeing the commotion and seeing Bob so desperately clinging to the back, completely ignoring any sense of fear from the walkers. "Just let it go!" Tyreece called out, but Bob was adamant on pulling the bag up. And Daryl had leaned forward to retrieve the bag from him. "What's so damn important in here, huh?" Daryl mumbled to himself, unzipping the backpack and pulling out a bottle. A bottle of what looked like whiskey. "All that for a drink?" Daryl reached his arm up to lunge it away, but Bob let out a yelp. "Please," he pleaded, "don't. It's just for when it get's quiet." Daryl was seething, why should he listen to his cries? He was on a selfish solo-mission. "Just give it to him." Michonne sighed, still wary of her footing as the walkers were clambering for their feet. "I can't believe this shit!" Daryl exclaimed, Bob's eyes fixed onto the alcohol sloshing around in Daryl's hands. "Should've left ya to die out there, we been so nice to ya. Y/N's been so nice to ya, and ya don't care one bit." "You take a sip of this before these meds get in our people," Daryl stepped to Bob, a menacing expression on his face as he shoved the bottle into his chest, "I will beat your ass into the ground."

It was a silent trip home, Daryl in the front seat with his head on the window. He couldn't stop thinking about you, about whether you were dead or alive. He was praying for the latter, and Daryl never prayed. In his life, he was so anti-God but when it came to you, he'd try anything. So seeing the familiar prison gates, Daryl almost leapt out the car whilst it was still rolling. He'd taken the bags of supplies straight to the quarantine zone, throwing it over to Herschel and sitting impatiently by the window. The window you'd always talk at, pressing your hands against it together, the one he hoped wouldn't have to separate you any longer. He had nothing to do except wait. He'd anxiously play with the ends of his hair, biting on his lip whilst he waited for any signs of progression. He sat, completely alone, just waiting for you. Completely unaware of the time passing around him. It wasn't until Maggie spotted him, and approached him slowly. "Everyone's taken the meds, they just need rest." She confirmed, and his heart lifted. "She's okay, but I think you need some rest too." "Thanks." Daryl spoke softly, a small smile on his lips as Maggie had exited the quarantine zone. He'd only waited a little while longer, until admitting defeat for the night.

The next morning, Daryl was up and spent the morning outside. Fixing the fence, stabbing some walkers in the skull, the usual daily tasks for him now. He'd accepted that you'd needed your rest, at least you were alive. But the weight still sat in his chest, even knowing you were on the mend, he wanted you. He needed you. Bob's selfish actions yesterday were now but a passing thought, he was solely centered on you. So he'd eaten some food, spoken to Carol, gone about his day as he usually would. Except you were missing. It had gotten to the evening, the sun setting behind the trees and it was a sight he wished to experience with you. "Hey handsome," he heard behind him, his head snapping to the direction of your voice, seeing you stood, weakly, against a wall. "Oh my God," he tried to speak, but it came out as more of a whimper. He'd abandoned his smoke, throwing it onto the ground before wrapping you into his body. Feeling your skin on his, your voice blessing his ears, it felt too good to be true. "Dar," you croaked, "too tight." You giggled when he'd released you, brushing his hands down your back, not wanting to take his hands from you.

[hihello-pinky]

varsity crush

atsumu miya x afab reader

some fluff, i guess

i originally wanted to write a full fic based on pixie labrador’s song (hence, the title) but somehow i ended up with this drabble. ALSO i know it’s a sapphic song but damn, the first time i listened to it and heard the lyrics about volleyball, haikyuu was my first thought

miya atsumu who has been your classmate since sixth grade; who you always only thought of as osamu’s loudmouth brother who once lent you his jacket when it was cold and you forgot to bring yours.

atsumu who was your partner for cleaning duty at seventh grade; who would almost always miss the task because he made it a habit to rush to the gym after last period.

atsumu who made your heart skip a beat when he passed you a note asking you to the eighth grade dance; who raises an eyebrow at your questioning look and says the note is from osamu.

atsumu who was your seatmate during ninth grade; who would distract you during class with the sound of his pen scraping against his notebook as he sketched volleyball plays.

atsumu who surprises you when he enters the classroom on the first day of tenth grade with his blonde hair; who you couldn’t stop looking at because his lightened hair made him more handsome.

atsumu who, one night, dropped by your grandpa’s convenience store looking for an onigiri; who told you as he reached the counter that he had a fight with osamu and he wanted to give it as a peace offering.

atsumu, who somehow made it a habit to drop by the convenience store after practice to buy energy drinks; who always buy one of those candies displayed at the counter and conveniently “forgets” them, sending you a quick message to just keep it.

atsumu who approached you after class one thursday afternoon in eleventh grade; who shared he needed help in his studies in order to stay in the volleyball club and asked you to tutor him.

atsumu who began sharing a table with you at lunch under the pretense of having more time to discuss about lessons but always made it a point to just talk about random stuff; who in time recruited his brother and suna to your lunch table.

atsumu who lovingly accepts gifts from his fans at your lunch table; who smiles so sweetly at the girls as it makes you inwardly frown, confusing yourself.

atsumu who, at the first month of twelfth grade, excitedly tells you he made captain as he walked you home; who grinned at you as he showed you his jersey and jacket with his last name.

atsumu who became much busier due to volleyball but would always somehow find time in his calendar to stay with you either in a coffee shop or library as you studied for college entrance exams; who would force you to take a break as he snatches the pen from your hand (my old captain, kita, would scold you!)

atsumu who gets surprised once you tell him you’re going with them to the nationals; who teases you for volunteering to cover for the school newspaper; who is actually secretly happy that you’re coming.

atsumu who gives you his jacket before their first game “in case you get cold”; who makes the girls beside you at the bleachers squeal when he smiles at your direction once he sees you wearing his jacket and cheering for him.

atsumu who lets you see his tears for the first time as you comfort him when inarizaki places second; who listens to your gentle voice as you sincerely tell him that you believe there are lots of greater opportunities for him in the future once he goes pro.

atsumu who passes you a note before class with prom? written in his messy handwriting; atsumu who receives a note from you saying is this from osamu again?; atsumu who bites back a smile as he passes back the note, so the bastard told you?; atsumu who doesn’t notice his ears reddening until suna points it out but he doesn’t care at all as he reads your note: yes, and yes i’ll go to prom with you.

atsumu who surprises you at prom because as athletic as he is, he sucks at slow dancing; atsumu who makes you blush as he tightens his hand around your waist as soon as you two finally find the rhythm; atsumu who leans to you closely and whispers in your ear how beautiful you are; atsumu who plants a soft kiss at the top of your head after you tell him to shut up and accidentally step on his shoes.

atsumu who runs to hug you at graduation, wrapping his strong arms around your smaller figure and lifting you in the air; who attends your class’ afterparty with you where you end up playing truth or dare.

atsumu who chokes on his drink as your bottle ends up on him and you ask him on when he plans to ask you out; who, after composing himself, gives you a cheesy smile and asks you to be his girlfriend; who blushes so hard, making osamu and suna laugh, when you say yes and kiss him on the cheek.

miya atsumu who you never thought would capture your heart; atsumu who somehow also fell for you; atsumu who you would be cheering on for the rest of your life.

it doesn’t matter whether you’re wearing his jacket or not; he already gave you his last name, anyway.

[honeipie]

plsplsplspls make the toast a series 😭

NATURALLY

izuku midoryia x reader

synopsis: going somewhere old to start something new

authors note: your wish is my command! i’ll probably make one more part beacause of one line i specifically wanna use LOLL

one | two | three | four

"izuku" inko's voice was light, but stern as she carried two mugs over to the small coffee table in her apartment. the same apartment that he had grown up in. of course, he had tried to buy her a house as soon as he received his first paycheck, but she refused. insisted that she didn't need much room for just herself. plus, she loved the little bursts of nostalgia she would get every so often from doing simple things. like making izuku's favorite cookies in the kitchen, or even walking by his old room which she kept perfectly intact. if someone walked in there they might've thought that he was still a teenage boy, but he wasn't.

there in her living room sat her son in his early adulthood. he almost took up half of the loveseat due to the growing muscle on his body. though even due to his increase in size, he shrunk down hearing his mother say his name.

she sat down next to him placing the mugs right on the coasters he had set out "you haven't answered my question"

izuku brought his two fingers up to rub the bridge of his nose "no, we're not together anymore" he mumbled in embarrassment and shame. it never felt good to tell anyone a relationship they invested time and money into didn't end up working out.

she frowned placing a hand on his back to rub slow circles "you got divorced after one week? izuku that can't be right.."

"no, no we didn't get divorced. we were actually, um" he was trying to figure out how to word this correctly to where he didn't sound insane "we were never officially married"

she stopped rubbing giving him a skeptical look "izuku what do you mean you were never married?"

he sighed leaning his elbows against his knees "we were supposed to sign the official marriage papers during the reception in front of everyone then send them in the next day. after that fight though? we just decided to not do it anymore"

"how did the press take it? i haven't seen anything"

"the press didn't know about the engagement or the wedding thankfully. we wanted a peaceful time to plan the wedding. they’re posting a breakup message for the both of us later today though. better to nip it in the bud now”

she nodded her head going to resume in rubbing his back "so when did you officially decide to call it off"

"yesterday"

"any specific reason? or a buildup of many?"

he paused for a moment, mulling over the answer "she would say one specific reason. i would say it built up over time" he shook his head in disbelief "couldn't even agree on that"

"what would she say the one reason was"

a lump caught in his throat at the question. such a simple fucking question that he didn't want to answer. but he knew if he didn't she would be a pain about it.

"y/n"

inko hummed at the very familiar name. you had been over mulitple times in the past years with and without her son. the two of you had grown close and she was like a mother to you. honestly, she had wished that izuku had gotten with you in the first place. would've saved a lot of time and trouble.

"well.. was she a strain to your relationship"

izuku scoffed, almost offended she even asked.

"she was never a problem for me-"

"well of course she wasn't a problem for you. that was your best friend"

"exactly! if uraraka couldn't understand that then it couldn't have worked between us. y/n was one of the first people to believe in me. i owe her a lot and i can't just let her go like that"

inko moved her hand from izuku's back and went to hold his hands instead "face me honey" izuku shifted his body so he was now facing his mother. growing older everyday, but still the strong woman he remembers when he was younger "i just wanted to apologize. for not bring able to give you a normal childhood with two parents in the home"

izuku's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion at her sudden apology "where is this coming from? mom it's fine. you did the best you could and i appreciate that more than anything else you could've done"

she patted on of his hands with a smile "i know you do sweetheart. but i'm mostly apologizing because you couldn't see what a real marriage consists of. the person you marry is one of the most important decisions you will ever make, but the easiest at the same time. love isn't enough to hold a marriage together, you need to be best friends before that. when you love someone on a surface level all you want to do is make sure they're happy. they won't tell you if something is bothering them. they'll follow you blindly into anything. when you marry your best friend you hold them accountable because you want to see them succeed in all that they do. it might make you fight sometimes, but at the end of the day it's worth it. because you have someone by your side you know that will stick it out with you for the rest of your years to come. that's what a marriage should be like"

".. so you're saying i should marry y/n?"

"i'm saying give it time. you don't need to jump back into another relationship immediately after this. what you should be doing is taking time to reflect on what you want, and when you're ready, how y/n makes you feel. and if you do feel something? let it flow. what happens will happen naturally”

---

the smell of hot glue filled your senses as you picked up a seashell from your pile. currently, you were at inko's house doing your monthly crafting sessions. who cares if you hadn't talked to izuku in four months? at least you had his mom.

last month the two of you had went to the beach to crochet, and ended up walking along the beach picking up seashells as you talked. that's when she let you know about the unspoken details of the breakup. you tried to hide your feelings with a stoic face and a simple 'wow'. though inko wasn't buying any of it.

she was currently letting you in on all the work drama she was currently having "i don't know why they want to get in my face like i'm the problem. ma'am, you have an STD, i'm a pediatric nurse. please let me do my job"

you threw your head back in laughter which drowned out the sound of keys jingling in the door.

"hey mom? i got those vegetables you were talking about. don't these tomatoes look fake?" he stopped mid-sentence seeing you sitting there on the floor with the same expression.

"oh no, i must've double booked you two" inko got up taking the bag from izuku's hands "you see every month y/n and i do crafty stuff together and it happened to land on the same day i told you i would make the stir fry"

you gave izuku a quick smile before turning from his lingering gaze "it's okay okaasan. i'll come back another day so we can finish it" you started to gather your things, but inko shook her head "you are staying for dinner. this recipe cooks for four and i am not eating all these leftovers"

you wanted to argue, but knew it would fall onto deaf ears "okay then"

“izuku honey. finish mines while i start on dinner”

“alright” he went to sit on the couch, knee almost brushing onto your shoulder. izuku watched as you placed one of the shells onto your frame carefully. getting the idea he started to do the same exact thing.

you could cut the tension with a knife. silence wasn’t something you were particularly used to with izuku.

“heard you and ochako broke up”

and at this moment he could start listing the things he loved about you.

1. you weren’t afraid to be blunt with him

both of his eyebrows raised and he blew out a puff of air “you don’t hold anything back”

“never did, never will”

he chuckled at your words glancing over at you. there was a slight smile on your face he could tell you were trying to hide. there was a slight slump to your shoulders though as time went on.

he continued with the project figuring he would wait until you spoke again.

like clockwork you turned looking directly into his eyes “can we talk?”

2. you made room for open and honest communication

he nodded placing the picture frame down carefully “yeah, unplug the hot glue and we can go in my room” you nodded unplugging the glue guns and heading over to his old room. he followed after you but not before turning back to his mom “we’re gonna talk”

she gave him a nod, but then quickly turned around when it finally registered “talk? like the talk? the talk so that you two can get together so i can finally have grandbabies talk?-“

“if i say yes will you stop it with that?”

“yes”

“then yes that talk”

she shooed him off into the room as if it was him holding them up. he rubbed the back of his neck while walking inside. with the other hand he closed the door with a soft click.

“how much of that did you hear?”

you shrugged going to sit on the bed “i didn’t hear any of it if it makes you feel better”

“it does actually” he sat himself down next to you with a huff. kirishima would probably kick him right now for how unmanly he’s being. forcing you to step up and take charge of the situation. he just wanted to test the waters out and see how you felt first.

“i guess i just wanted to catch up. really see how you’re feeling. cause i know you posted on the media you ended everything on good terms, but is everything really okay? i mean you broke up with the woman you thought you’d be spending the rest of your life with. it’s okay to be upset”

3. you genuinely cared for him no matter what

“i-“ he cleared his throat from the unexpected voice crack that had arose “sorry, i’m pretty fine now actually. i just feel guilty for making ochako feel embarrassed about the whole situation. other than that.. i really don’t think we were meant to be anyways”

“what do you mean you didn’t think you were meant to be anyways? why’d you propose in the first place then?”

he shrugged taking off a loose strand on the all might themed duvet “i don’t think i knew what marriage was about. but i was informed very recently on what it is about and my vision changed” he watched as you turned to look at him with eyebrows raised.

“oh yeah? changed to what?”

“you”

your playful demeanor dropped immediately. his words truly sinking into the both of you. he attempted to scoot closer to you, but you backed away hesitantly.

“izuku we can’t do this. where you break up with ochako and come running to me? i’m not a second choice you know that right?” this is what you had always wanted, but at this moment it didn’t feel that way. with the current circumstances how else were you supposed to feel?

izuku’s eyes widened when he heard that and redness quickly creeped up his neck. he held both hands up shaking his head “that’s not it i swear! you were never my second choice. in fact, you were always my first. i could just never admit it to myself that maybe, maybe we could make it work romantically. i- i am attracted to you and everything like that! maybe i was with uraraka for so long that i didn’t notice what was right in front of me”

your throat had gone dry. was this really happening? the boy you’d been crushing on for eternity is finally asking you out after leaving his longtime girlfriend. totally normal, and totally not a chance you were willing to give up.

you wasted no time grabbing both of his cheeks and pulling him down for a kiss. startled was an understatement as he felt his lips connecting to yours. though as he realized what was truly happening, he wasn’t complaining. he shut his eyes moving one hand to your cheek and the other on your waist.

despite the quick start, the kiss was soft and slow. tongues gently brushing together in steady movements. when you pulled away, there was a goofy smile on your face. izuku trailed more kisses from your cheek, to your jaw, right down your neck.

4. you were a damned good kisser

“you’ve got a lot of work to do. i hope you know that”

izuku hummed nodding his head “i’m willing to work for it”

“hm.. izu?”

“yeah” he mumbled clearly not wanting to your time be interrupted.

“i’m not saying this doesn’t feel nice, because it does, but can we save it? for one your mom is on the other room. and two? all might is staring dead into my soul”

he pulled away face bright red turning to the poster you were talking about. there he was in all his glory. all might standing there in his signature hero suit, beady blue eyes staring directly at the viewer. izuku turned back to you not being able to contain his laughter. you were right behind him leaning your head on his shoulder in a fit of giggles.

5. you were his best friend

taglist! @sagejin @crybabyl0l @yoihoshi-maki @reads-stuff-quietly @aejabba @valenspuppy @v3n7s 🫶🏾

let me know if you want to be added!

[gcslingss]

this is my first time sending a request but could you do inspection prompt from the non verbal list? maybe something to do with a stunt driver!reader and colt? like the reader gets hurt doing some kind of driving stunt?

prompt: [ inspection ] sender holds receiver's face while inspecting an injury they got -prompt list

summary: because of reasons like a tight schedule and an asshole director, when your stunt goes slightly askew, colt's the only one who comes to your rescue.

pairing: colt seavers x fem!stuntdriver!reader

warnings/content: fluff, angst, blood mentions, hurt/comfort, kissing, barely any swearing but some is there

word count: 1.73k

notes: thank you to kira for requesting, and thank you to her and shannon @bisexualcoltseavers for beta-reading this!! had a lot of fun writing it, hope you guys enjoy <3

Being a stunt driver had its pros and cons.

Pros being you got to ride cool-ass cars, trucks, motorcycles, and motorized couches, you had an overall aura of daring and bravery, and you got to make friends with a lot of really nice people.

Cons being you could lose a limb or your life while doing the stunts, and could be pressured into doing things you didn’t want to do, but that was part of the job, and besides, it rarely ever happened.

Today’s schedule for had you involved with the filmBright Days dir. by Charles Levine.

He sounded like quite the gentleman, but dear god, his sexist ideals and extra tight schedules were hard to work with.

You were supposed to do a scene where the lead crashed into the goon’s car because of a slippery road in the middle of the night during her escape mission.

The goon was Colt Seavers, a skilled co-stuntie, and someone you’d had a crush on for over 2 years.

It was super confusing, and so was he, because you could never tell if he was just being friendly or aiming a bit higher. 

“We really need to go now,” Colt said to you, taking your half-eaten spinach corn sandwich from your hand and keeping it on its paper plate, before nudging you. “Levine’s heading for us.”

You made a sound like a deflating balloon, with Colt appropriately responding by encouragingly rubbing your back. You couldn’t help but ease into his touch, something you were certainly embarrassed by, cheeks heating up.

“You’re gonna be great, alright?” he said, and his tone made you blush and smile, which was not an appropriate reaction at all.

“And I promise not to crush you.” 

“Shut up,” you quipped at the grinning man, slapping his shoulder.

When Levine came and stood by the break table, he looked quite unhappy.

“We’re on a schedule, stunties. Get moving.”

You glanced at Colt, giving him a ‘who gave him permission to say stuntie?’ look to which Colt just responded with an exasperated nod, making you sigh.

“Coming,” you muttered, before heading to the set with Colt. He had an arm around your shoulder, a fact you actively tried to ignore.

Five minutes later, you were in the stunt car, strapped down, helmet clipped on, mouthguard on, neck restraints snug, gloved hands tight on the steering wheel.

The helmet was unusually loose, but with the way Levine was rushing the shot, you knew nothing would be done about it. Colt was on the other end of the road, speaking to you through the walkie talkie.

“Good luck,” his voice said, and you smiled to yourself. 

“You too.”

“Alright, no wasting time, c’mon, I want to see action!” Levine yelled into the talkie and to everyone else.

The cameramen and crew moved away, the stunt coordinator got in his buggy, and you double checked everything before taking a deep breath. 

This was going to be great. You were going to be great. You were a stunt driver! You’d done this millions of times.

No, the helmet wasn’t an issue. It was probably fine.

“…And action, action!”

You slammed the accelerator and the car zoomed forward, racing through the road.

Colt’s car was heading towards you, on the other lane — In another 5 seconds, you were supposed to skid and crash into him, successfully taking the brunt. 

Alright.

You swerved the car, hard, and it turned 180 degrees, when your helmet fell off your head.

What the f-

“NOW!”

Instinct took over and you sped backwards, crashing into the other car with a boom, the bonnet almost floating for a split second. The vehicle shook thunderously. Your ears began to ring. 

Glass shattered and all you could do was brace your head with your arms, helplessly watching the helmet roll around the groaning car, eyes tightly shut to protect them from the splintering metal and nails and screws and shards.

You sat there in the same position for what felt like ages, until the walkie talkie came to life with the coordinator's voice.

“Are you both alright?”

You heaved deep breaths, a tad shocked to realize that your face was bleeding into your sleeves. You shakily pulled your sleeves away and were a bit taken aback at all the blood staining it.

Your shaky hand grabbed the walkie talkie and you gasped an” alright” into it. 

After a few moments, you put the helmet on and stepped out of the car— two stuntmen helped you to your unsteady feet, and behind them was…

“Colt.”

He rushed past them, tripping on the pebbles, before scooping you up in his arms, almost lifting you off the ground.

“You okay?” he asked. You could only nod, which was already hard with the flimsy helmet, never mind with the cuts on your face. 

“You?” you returned the question.

“I’m good,” he said, grinning through his visor.

The right thing to do now was to tell someone about the accident and see the set’s medic, but last time a stuntie got hurt, Levine got extremely upset about the wasted time and resources and lectured the crew for a solid twenty minutes. Ironic.

So you decided to stay silent instead.

Colt seemed to notice your silence and stumbling steps.

“Are you alright?” he asked again, tone laced with concern this time, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. He tried to take the helmet off your head but you pushed his hand away, shaking your head.

“I’m fine, I’m just-“

Colt took off your helmet before you could react, but you smacked his head, taking advantage of his shock and quickly sliding it back on.

Colt had a ghastly expression on his face at the momentary sight of your cuts, some deep, some faint, and it made you feel warm that he cared, yet upset, that you had upset him.

“You need to get that taken care of,” he whispered. “Now.”

“Levine wouldn’t like that,” you said, but he ignored you and grabbed you by the arm, taking you to one of the tents, hurriedly sitting you down and taking a first aid kit under the table.

“Take it off,” he instructed seriously, and you almost giggled. Colt caught on and gave you a serious glare that made you shut up, stifling your laughs.

You did as he said, and when his eyes landed on you once more, he seemed to be genuinely shaken. 

“I’m fine,” you said, trying to make him relax, but his expression didn’t falter.

“What happened?”

“The helmet clasp was loose - came off when I did the 180 swerve.”

“Motherfucker,” he grumbled to himself, and you knew he was talking about Levine. You nodded in agreement.

“Indeed.”

Colt knelt on the sandy floor and took your face in his hands, his hold gentle and cautious. He turned your head to see how bad the injuries were, eyebrows arched and eyes perturbed.

“This might sting a little,” he said softly.

“I’ll manage,” giving him a smile.

Colt let his gaze linger on you for a second, before reaching for the first aid and taking out bandages, tincture— everything he needed to tend to you.

There was a cut on your forehead, under your eye (Colt looked visibly distressed by this), a deeper one on your left cheekbone, a slit on your lower lip, and a few shallow scratches everywhere else.

He soaked a cotton pad in tincture and brought it to your face, first gently dabbing at the cut on your forehead. The stench of alcohol was strong, but to you, it was mellow in comparison to Colt’s cologne.

His deep concern gave you time to observe every bit of his beautiful face in much detail, and it brought you great joy.

He had a pretty nose, you observed, and pretty, pretty, deep, warm blue eyes that looked even prettier when he was worried. That word seemed to be the only one capable of perfectly describing him. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked. 

“No. Not at all.”

You didn’t even feel the stinging of the disinfectant, too busy appreciating him, too giddy with the feeling of his calloused fingers on your skin. You couldn’t tell if he knew.

Your attention drifted lower to his mouth, his lips barely parted in focus, not too far from your own. 

So pretty.

The cotton pad came down, and Colt started to clean your split lip. His fingertips brushed over it as he did, causing goosebumps to rise on your arm.

Whether it was on purpose, you weren’t sure. There were so many things you could never clearly interpret when it came to this man.

“My eyes are up here, hey.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up, gaze connecting to Colt’s. He had the smallest, teasing smile.

“I’m aware of that,” you replied, blushing a little.

“Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“If I kissed you right now, would you taste like disinfectant?”

At that precise moment, it dawned on you that this man knew what he was doing after all, and you only flushed harder, blinking rapidly, heart speeding up.

“Probably,” you managed to say. You could barely speak.

Colt picked up very quickly on how flustered you were, and it seemed to give him so much joy, much to your annoyance. 

He was definitely much less worried, now that you’d been tended to. That was good, but at the cost of your dignity? Not at all.

But then, he whispered, “I wanna find out,” with so many emotions packed in those four words, and you gave in entirely.

“Please do.”

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights for a second, as if he didn’t expect you to agree, but you pleaded again, and that was all he needed to bring your face close and press his lips to yours.

He kissed you like he hadn’t consumed anything for weeks. He kissed desperately, lovingly, his fingers stroking your skin and scalp, pulling you in closer so he could taste you better.

You were lost in the feeling, and you were willing to get lost in it for the rest of your life. You let your hands rest on his neck, thumbs grazing over his skin. He seemed to love it with the way he sharply inhaled.

You had to pull away to catch your breath, and when you saw Colt’s dreamy, amused gaze, you questioned, “What?”

“You do taste like disinfectant.”

You laughed, sincerely, and he did too.

“Idiot,” you mumbled, giggling. “Of course I do.”

“But it, like— it tastes pretty alright, you know?”

And you started laughing even harder.

taglist: @hollandstrophyhusband @bisexualcoltseavers @zsuo @flowersomgravee @asyrafey @officer-kd6 @chihuahuamations @superprofesh @dontglimpse

[vroom--vrooming]

Thief!Charles Leclerc x Cop!Reader

Let's just say Charles has a thing for the cop who wants to put him behind bars

The city was quiet as you walked through the shadows, investigating the latest in a series of robberies. You’d been assigned to this case for weeks, and the thief was elusive, clever, always managing to slip through the fingers of every cop on his trail. But you were determined to end this cat-and-mouse game. Tonight, you felt certain he’d make another appearance.

Then, there he was—Charles Leclerc. You spotted him, crouched by the window of a jewelry store, his face partially hidden by the darkness. His fingers moved skillfully, lock-picking with an ease that showed his experience. You took a step forward, and he sensed your presence, his head snapping up. When he saw you, his eyes widened, but not with fear; instead, a sly, amused smile appeared on his face.

“Well, this is a surprise,” he said smoothly, standing up and looking at you with open admiration. “And here I thought tonight would be boring.”

Your face stayed steady, unimpressed. “Charles Leclerc. You’ve been quite busy, haven’t you?” You moved closer, keeping your hand near the cuffs on your belt. You could feel his gaze sweep over you, studying every detail.

“Beautiful and smart,” he murmured, almost as if talking to himself. “They didn’t tell me they’d send someone like you.” His eyes sparkled with amusement, like he was enjoying every second of this.

You kept your gaze sharp, not letting his charm affect you. “Save it. You’re coming with me.”

He raised his hands in surrender, grinning. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of resisting someone like you,” he teased, his voice dripping with mischief as you cuffed his wrists.

During the drive to the station, Charles kept his eyes on you, a constant, unbreakable focus. “You know,” he started, leaning as far forward as his handcuffs would allow, “if I’d known my arresting officer would be this gorgeous, I would’ve let myself get caught a lot sooner.”

You rolled your eyes, keeping your focus on the road. “Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, Charles.”

“Maybe not, but I’m going to try anyway,” he replied, smirking. “Besides, I have to entertain myself somehow. And you’re definitely more fun than the others.”

At the station, as you processed him, he kept up his flirtation, watching you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Every answer he gave was laced with charm and wit, each attempt designed to get a reaction from you. But you stayed firm, keeping your cool, and this seemed to make him even more interested.

“So, Detective,” he said, signing the last form, “when will I see you again?”

You frowned, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at the way he looked at you. “Hopefully, you’ll be too busy serving time to see me again.”

But he just smiled, undeterred. “Oh, I wouldn’t count on that. I’m not one to stay away from beautiful people for long.”

A few days passed, and Charles was transferred to another facility. However, during the transport, he managed to escape, slipping away from custody without a trace. The news hit the station quickly, and though you felt a sense of frustration, you couldn’t help the small part of you that wondered if he would make another move.

The next evening, as you returned to your office, you found an envelope sitting on your desk. Inside was a note, handwritten in neat, confident script:

“Detective,

If you want to catch me, I’ll be at the old museum on 5th Avenue at midnight.

And if you’d like to grab a coffee afterward, I’ll be more than happy to oblige.

-Charles”

Your pulse quickened as you read it, his cocky tone shining through each word. He was daring you, inviting you to play his game.

***

You stood there for a moment, the note crinkling slightly in your hand as you read it again, just to be sure. Charles was taunting you, but there was something else in his words—a challenge. He wanted you there, not just because you were the cop assigned to catch him, but because he enjoyed the thrill, the game of it all. And somehow, he wanted you to be part of it.

As midnight approached, you made your way to the old museum on 5th Avenue. The street was deserted, the building dark and looming against the city’s skyline. You scanned the shadows, your senses heightened, trying to anticipate his next move.

Then you heard it—a quiet shuffle of footsteps coming from inside. You moved silently, slipping through the side entrance he’d likely left unlocked just for you. The museum was dark, the empty halls echoing with every sound. Then, near a display case in the middle of the room, you saw him.

Charles stood under a dim shaft of light, looking almost like he belonged there, a priceless artifact in the middle of the abandoned museum. He was relaxed, his posture casual as he glanced over his shoulder, spotting you the moment you entered.

“There you are,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show.”

You stepped forward, keeping a steady gaze. “Did you really think I’d let you get away that easily?”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I was hoping. But I had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

You moved closer, careful to keep your expression neutral even as his gaze roamed over you, appreciative and admiring. “This isn’t a game, Charles,” you warned, though your pulse quickened with every step you took toward him.

“Isn’t it?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Because I think we’re both enjoying this a bit more than we’d like to admit.”

Before you could reply, he took a slow step forward, closing the distance between you. His eyes were fixed on yours, and for a moment, the air felt thick, electric. “You’re very good at your job,” he murmured, his voice low. “But I’m afraid you’re going to have to work a little harder to keep up with me.”

You felt a spark of determination at his words. “I’ve caught you once already. And I’ll do it again,” you replied confidently, raising an eyebrow.

Charles chuckled softly, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before he looked back up, meeting your eyes with that familiar glint. “I look forward to it,” he said, his voice warm, almost intimate.

With a swift, unexpected movement, he turned, slipping away from you and disappearing into the darkness of the museum. You moved to follow, but he was fast, each footstep echoing farther and farther away until you couldn’t hear him at all. He’d vanished into the night, leaving you with nothing but the note in your pocket and the memory of his flirtatious smile.

But as you left the museum, you found another slip of paper taped to the door outside. It was simple, written in his unmistakable handwriting:

“Until next time, Detective. Coffee’s still on the table.”

You couldn’t help the slight smile that crept onto your face, despite your best efforts to stay serious. You knew this wouldn’t be the last time he’d pull a stunt like this. He was making it clear that he wouldn’t go far, that he’d be waiting, ready to play the game whenever you were. And somehow, despite everything, you looked forward to it.

[judebelle]

Gavi breaking up with the reader bc he needs space and stuff and she takes it really hard and it affects her a lot but he realizes he was wrong for it and gets her back. Just a lot of angst but fluff ending plssss. You are the bestttt

rekindled - p.g. x reader

authors note : thank you guys for the love on my recent posts, and for sending in requests. psa, the more requests i get, the more motivated i am and the more i post!

cw : just heart wrenching angst for the most part, but it gets fluffy dwww!!, swearing, sad :(

wc : 2.3k

pairing : pablo gavi x fem!reader

---

“i just don’t have the time for you anymore!”

his words truly devastated you, tearing apart the delicate threads of your heart. couldn’t he at least try? why was he just giving up?

“i don’t understand why we can’t just try to work it out, pablo! we could compromise, we can even make a schedule.. we could make it work!”

it seemed like only you were really trying, and he seemed eager to end this relationship. over what? a busy schedule? you felt useless, standing in his empty home, the echoes of your voices ringing in your ears. it was as if you were singlehandedly trying to stop a sinking ship from descending deep into the dark and bottomless blue.

“it’s not that easy, y/n! i have a lot on my plate! between football practices and matches, i barely have time for myself anymore. and then adding on this relationship, i need to make time for you as well! its too much. i know you wouldn't understand but-"

"i wouldn't understand? what is that supposed to mean? there are two people in this relationship. and it's not like i sit around all day and do nothing! i also have my own things to do! you make it seem like i am so high maintenance, like i'm too much for you to handle!"

you were growing increasingly angry as the argument progressed. how little did he think of you?

"you know that's not what i meant.."

you sniffled, "i dont think i know you at all anymore."

---

it had been a week since the break up.

you tried not to let it affect you too much, but his absence left a crater in your heart you were left too weak to fill.

the breakup casted a shadow over the once vibrant hues of your life. you found yourself dealing with the aftermath of shattered love. you were picking up the shattered pieces of your heart, the sharp glass cutting through the skin of your hands. you felt the pain during tearful nights when sleep also abandoned you, and in the empty spaces that once resonated with shared laughter.

the breakup left an indelible mark on you.

you didn't call anybody. you just sat at home. it was like pablo's words became your new reality, now you were truly sitting around all day and doing nothing.

you hadn't heard from him at all, thanking the universe knowing that if you did, it would be too much on your aching heart.

---

one month had passed.

you were finally feeling like yourself again. yes, you missed his warm embrace and touching words, but you learned to live without it.

you couldn't depend on someone to be the sole reason for your happiness. you still loved him, and you always will, but fuck did he cut deep.

---

pablo's pov

pablo found himself grappling with an unexpected wave of regret.

the relentless demands of his busy life had driven a wedge between the two of you, leaving him to confront the harsh reality of what he had lost.

pablo now spent the time he would've spent with you alone, in his home. he didn't hang out with friends. he didn't go out for dinner, just ordered food to his house. he felt lonely and bored without you.

how ironic.

the void left by your absence became easily recognizable to everyone around him, and he began to yearn for the warmth of your shared moments.

but pablo kept the painful truth of your breakup to himself, unable to utter the words aloud to anyone.

"hey bro, what's on your mind?"

he felt an arm drape across his shoulders, startling him from his thoughts.

pablo was at barcelona's training grounds, and didn't realize his slumped posture and absentminded features were noticeable to anyone but him.

pedro was walking next to him, his arm slung around the back of his neck.

"hola?? what's up with you?" pedro was insisting on finding out why his close friend was acting so strange.

"sorry, just tired.. didn't get much sleep last night." in all honesty, he hadn't. he spent most of his night lying awake, thinking of how badly he had messed up. his screen time was through the roof, scrolling through your feed and posts, reminiscing on what was once his, about the warm soul that would sleep next to him in this very bed.

"ai, don't lie now. you know i can see right through you. what's wrong, bro?" pedro wasn't giving up, pestering pablo on his silence.

pablo gulped and turned to his friend, "i.. i messed up bad bro, like really bad..".

he didn't elaborate further, unable to bring himself to come to terms with what he had done.

"uhh, that's cool and all, but it would be helpful if you explained, man. i can't help you if you dont tell m-"

"i broke up with y/n."

pablo shut his mouth after, the words leaving the bitter taste of regret in his mouth. he might've said that too loudly, causing some staff members and teammates to look his direction.

pedro didn't seem to believe it, raising his eyebrow at the boy.

"you what? wha... when?"

everyone who knew pablo knew that he was absolutely smitten with you. you were always on his mind, and he was quick to talk about you if he had the chance. it annoyed his friends sometimes, but it was cute how much he loved you.

the fact that he had broken up with you was appalling.

"around a month ago.." pablo confessed, his hands hidden behind his back like a guilty child. "i told her i was too busy to focus on our relationship, and i told her that i needed to focus on my career. it's honestly a load of bullshit. i think i was just stressed and took it out on her."

pedro's confusion was evident, his eyebrows drawn together.

"i don't understand, bro. your schedule was never an issue for you before. and why didn't you tell me? i could've, i don't know, been there for you!"

it was like pablo was being scolded, and he really did deserve it. he'd lost you because of his own stress and poor time management. you didn't deserve to suffer because of him.

"pablo, what were you thinking? i mean, i can't believe it! i would've never expected you to- okay, i'm sorry.." pedro stopped his lecturing upon seeing his friend growing increasingly upset. "my advice to you is to go apologize. and not just a quick 'sorry', but a good one. get her flowers, chocolate - i don't know, whatever chicks like. just go say sorry."

pablo looked up at his friend, hesitation on his features. "what if she doesn't take me back? w-what would i do then?" he stuttered. he was worried you would realize how big of an asshole he was, and how much he didn't deserve you.

"i mean, i wouldn't blame her," pedro smiled teasingly. "but i know y/n pretty well, she would understand." he laid a comforting hand on pablo's shoulder. "don't sweat it bro, it'll all be okay."

---

your pov

you were currently sprawled across your couch, stuffing popcorn in your mouth as you binged a show you had already seen a million times.

the bell rang.

that hadn't happened in a while. the unfamiliar sound rang in your head before you pulled yourself up from your comfortable position, walking to the door. you yanked the door open, popcorn still in your mouth.

you looked up to see the man you thought you'd never see again.

"..hola.." he whispered before sending you a soft smile. you froze in your spot. not knowing what to do as you weren't expecting this at all.

it was like you'd turned cold from shock. you acted before you thought, slamming the door on his face. you scrambled to fixed your hair and finish chewing your popcorn.

giving yourself a moment to breathe and think, you quickly opened the door again, worried he might leave. surprisingly, he was still standing there, waiting for you.

"can i come in?"

---

you let him in, of course. how could you not?

he walked in with a hunched back. his feet dragged against the floor wearily.

you told him to sit on the couch and wait as you grabbed two waters, one for him, and one for you.

the unexpected arrival of pablo, whom you thought had become a distant echo of the past, sent tremors through the newly rebuilt walls around your heart.

is there a possibility of rekindling what was once lost?

you finally dragged yourself out of the kitchen and back into the living room to where pablo was sitting with his legs shaking anxiously and his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. there were still popcorn crumbs on the couch, the halfway eaten bowl of it placed on the table across from the paused movie displayed on the tv.

oh, how you wish he warned you before showing up at your doorstep.

he turned his head to see you standing tensely in the doorframe. he smiled awkwardly as he scooted over to give you some space to sit far from him.

you sat down and placed the waters on the table in front of you. you took a deep breath before gulping hard. you eventually found the courage to croak out a few words.

"what happened, is everything alright?"

the air was thick, the unspoken history you shared lingering in the air. his eyes were red and cratered by bags. he tried to hide the lines on his face by putting on a decent outfit and gelling his hair back, but you saw right through his façade.

"i just.. wanted to apologize.."

your silence was his cue to continue speaking.

sitting in the soft glow of your living room, pablo took a deep breath before breaking the heavy silence.

"i need you to know how sorry i am for what i did, y/n. breaking up with you was the biggest mistake of my life, and i've spent every day regretting it. i miss you, not just the idea of you, but you - the way you laugh, the way you challenge me... i was foolish, and i can't keep living my life without you in it. i came here to make things right, to find a way for us to work through the challenges together. can we try again? can you forgive me?" His vulnerable pleas hung in the air while also knocking you down like heavy wind.

your gaze flickered with a mix of surprise as pablo's heartfelt words settled in the room. the weight of his apology hung between you, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch as you discerned the sincerity in his eyes.

you took a moment before responding, your voice a sorrowful blend of vulnerability and caution.

"pablo, you hurt me deeply when you walked away. i've spent nights replaying those moments, the day you left me, wondering if i meant as much to you as you say now...". The room held a fragile hope as your eyes locked.

in a desperate plea, pablo's words spilled forth with an intensity so raw it stung in the depths of your heart. his eyes reflected the sincerity of his emotions. "y/n, i can't imagine my life without you. every moment without you feels like a void i can't fill. i was foolish, and i let something so precious slip away." his voice wavered with a mix of regret and hope, showing the depth of his desire to rebuild what was lost.

"please, i'm begging you, give me another chance. i know i hurt you, and i'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. i've learned from my mistakes, and i'm not the same person who walked away. i love you, and i'm ready to fight for us. please, take me back."

you listened to pablo's heartfelt pleas carefully. after a thoughtful pause, you spoke with a calm and resolute tone,

"pablo, i appreciate your honesty and the effort you're putting into this. it's not easy to admit mistakes, and i can see the sincerity in your eyes. but i need some space to process everything. let's take things one step at a time."

pablo quietly absorbed your response. he nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of his actions. "i understand, y/n," he said with a quiet sincerity,

"i know i hurt you, and i can't expect you to erase that pain overnight. i'm here, whenever you're ready." his words left a subtle sting on your heart. he raised up from the couch, before leaving with the same hunch of his back and drag of his steps that he entered with.

the sound of the door latching closed sent a stab through your heart. your eyes began to water as the painful image of him leaving stuck in your mind.

you were standing in the doorway, and felt a sudden surge of clarity and yearning. spontaneously, you threw the door open and rushed after him, the urgency to convey your changing feelings propelling you forward. "pablo!" you called out, running down the driveway, and as he turned in surprise, you closed the distance between you. without a word, you reached out, cupped his face in your hands, and pressed your lips to his. his hands wrapped around your waist as he dipped you forward slightly, embracing your warmth and forgiveness. your brows furrowed into the kiss as you felt the craters in your heart fill slowly.

the kiss was heavy, holding many unspoken emotions—forgiveness, longing, and the realization that sometimes, the heart finds its way back when the connection is too strong to resist.

in that moment, under the dim streetlights, things changed between you two, and it seemed as though the process of reconciliation was beginning to unfold.