#I could go on for hours but I won’t I’ll just post this instead

[koyagifs]

𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥

━━━ pairing: zayne x reader x caleb ━━━ au: non mc ━━━ genre: angst with comfort ━━━ word count: 2.3k ━━━ synopsis: im so insecure, i think that i’ll die before i drink ━━━ warning(s): cocky caleb, mc being nice but also naïve.

enjoyed the post? check out my masterlist!

Zayne didn’t know what he expected when you stopped messaging him. The emotions twisting in his chest felt strange — familiar only because he’d felt them before, whenever MC gave her attention to Caleb instead of him. He hadn’t thought it was jealousy. Not until now.

When you stopped updating the shared calendar with your days off, he shrugged it off — telling himself you’d just gotten busier. And when Grayson casually mentioned that you had transferred to Skyhaven, he shrugged that off too, even as something in his chest tightened.

There was Zayne, scanning over a patient chart, his mind half-occupied by routine until a familiar voice cut through the hum of the hospital floor.

Your voice.

His eyes lifted, and instinctively, he did a double take. Skyhaven had called him over to assist, short-staffed and overwhelmed, but he never expected to see you here — in your crisp white coat, speaking to a nurse with that warm, familiar smile you always gave the staff. That same smile that once belonged to him.

Something in his chest twisted, sharp and unwelcome. Before he could think twice, his feet started to move toward you — drawn like a moth to a flame.

But then he saw him.

His gaze hardened instantly.

Broad shoulders, squared by that unmistakable uniform. That stupid, fucking colonel’s uniform.

Caleb.

The sight of him standing beside you, comfortably close, ignited a bitter spark beneath Zayne’s ribs. He clenched the chart in his hand a little too tightly, jaw working as he forced himself to look away.

"Caleb! You’re here early — I don’t go on lunch for another hour," you said, smiling up at him.

Zayne barely registered the patient notes anymore. His grip on the clipboard turned vice-like the moment he heard Caleb’s easy chuckle, rich and familiar, as if he belonged here — with you.

The worst timing possible. Zayne’s eyes flicked up just as Caleb leaned down, brushing his lips over yours in a casual, practiced way that spoke of habit.

The soft blush that bloomed across your cheeks was the final blow.

Crack.

The clipboard snapped clean in his hands.

Splintered plastic bit into his palm, but Zayne barely felt it over the fire that roared in his chest.

He forced himself to turn away, ready to put distance between him and the scene — but fate had other plans.

He collided with someone in his haste.

"My apologies," he said smoothly, reflexes quick to cover the slip. His usual charm slid into place like a well-worn mask, and when he looked up — there you were.

His smile felt tight at the edges. "MC... fancy seeing you here."

She blinked in surprise before her lips curved into that familiar, easy smile — the one she always wore in uniform. "Zayne, what are you doing here in Skyhaven?"

"Covering a few shifts," Zayne replied coolly, masking the tightness in his throat. "I head back at the end of the week. I’m assuming you’re here to see Caleb?"

Her smile widened as she nodded. "Yeah, he invited me for lunch — to meet his girlfriend, actually."

Something twisted in Zayne’s chest. Girlfriend? But you went on, bright and oblivious to the storm brewing behind his carefully crafted smile.

"Say, why don’t you join us!" she added cheerfully. "That way I won’t be stuck third-wheeling."

For a heartbeat, Zayne froze. His mind screamed, No, but what left his mouth was smooth, practiced. "I’d love to," he managed, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "My lunch isn’t for another hour, but message me the time and place — I’ll make it work."

"Perfect!" she beamed, before excusing herself, leaving Zayne alone with the shattered remains of his clipboard and the wreckage of his composure.

You and Caleb sat side by side, the warm hum of conversation filling the café. MC, bright as ever, beamed with joy as she spoke — though most of her attention was on you. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, her smile effortless as she chatted animatedly, her words flowing like she had all the time in the world just for you.

Caleb, seated beside her, felt his heart swell. He couldn’t help but admire the scene before him: his girlfriend, radiant and glowing, and his childhood friend — two parts of his life he never thought would mesh so well.

There was a softness in his gaze, an unspoken gratitude as he watched you both. This, he thought, this is perfect.

Zayne cleared his throat, a pointed cough cutting through the warm bubble of conversation. You and MC startled at the sound, both turning toward him.

Without hesitation, MC scooted over, patting the empty space beside her in invitation. "Zayne! Over here," she said, her voice bright, almost too bright.

You froze for a beat, feeling the sudden shift in the air.

Across the table, Caleb’s jaw tensed, the muscle ticking beneath his skin as his posture stiffened. His easygoing demeanor slipped away like sand through fingers, replaced by something sharper, colder. He watched Zayne with narrowed eyes, his body angled ever so slightly closer to you, as if by instinct.

Zayne offered a tight, practiced smile as he took the seat, but there was no warmth in it. His eyes flicked to Caleb with a glint that was anything but friendly.

The table felt smaller now. Claustrophobic, almost.

"Zayne, so glad you could join us!" MC beamed, completely oblivious to the undercurrent at the table.

Zayne’s gaze didn’t leave yours, not even for a second. His smile, thin as a blade, felt like it could cut through steel. "Of course," he replied smoothly, though there was a roughness beneath his tone. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

MC, in her usual cheerful way, carried on, unknowingly pouring fuel on the fire. "Zayne, this is Yn," she said, gesturing to you with excitement. "She's Caleb's girlfriend, and she just transferred to Sky Haven officially!"

Your throat tightened at the words. You managed a polite nod toward Zayne, but your fingers fidgeted nervously beneath the table. Caleb’s hand slid over yours almost possessively, his thumb rubbing circles against your skin — whether to comfort you or to make a point, you weren’t sure.

Zayne’s eyes dropped to where Caleb’s hand held yours, and though his smile didn’t falter, his eyes darkened, hard as flint. "Ah," he said softly. "So it’s official, then."

There was something about the way he said it — quiet, dangerous — that made your heart skip.

Caleb caught it too. His free hand curled into a tight fist on the table, knuckles whitening. "It is," Caleb confirmed, his voice low, firm. "Very official."

For a heartbeat, no one moved. MC, still blissfully unaware, started flipping through the menu, humming to herself. "I heard the chef’s special today is amazing! Should we try it?"

The tension at the table crackled like a live wire.

" it's nice to see you alive and well Caleb," Zayne said, the alive being sharp.

MC let out an awkward chuckle, " caleb here has played dead for a year… "

You nodded your head , " i know.. i actually was his doctor during his time in the hospital. "

Zayne’s gaze flicked to you, sharp and assessing, like he was seeing you in a new light. "His doctor," he echoed, voice low with a dangerous edge. His lips curled into something that tried to pass as a smile but didn’t quite make it. "Well, then I suppose I should be thanking you. Without you, we wouldn’t be having this charming lunch, would we?"

Caleb’s jaw tightened at the implication. "She did more than save my life," he said, his voice firm and protective. His fingers tightened slightly around yours, as if anchoring himself — or you. "She’s the reason I made it through at all."

MC, ever the peacemaker, laughed nervously, trying to lighten the mood. "See? I told you two would get along just fine!"

You offered MC a small, appreciative smile, but your attention was glued to the silent exchange of glances between Caleb and Zayne. Zayne’s eyes never really left you, though, dark and swirling with something unreadable. Curiosity? Jealousy? Resentment?

Maybe all three.

"Is that so?" Zayne murmured, eyes narrowing just a fraction. "Interesting how fate works, isn’t it?"

"It is," Caleb said tightly, his gaze hard as steel. "Especially when it brings old ghosts back to life."

The words hung heavy in the air.

MC’s smile faltered just a little as she glanced between the two men, sensing the shift in atmosphere at last.

You cleared your throat gently, hoping to dispel the storm clouds gathering above the table. "So," you said, forcing a calm tone, "how do you two know each other?"

Zayne’s gaze darkened further, a storm behind his eyes. "Oh," he said softly, "Caleb and I go way back."

"Too far back," Caleb replied, voice low and warning.

MC’s eyes widened, and she quickly took a sip of her drink, muttering under her breath, "Maybe we should’ve ordered that chef’s special sooner."

" We're all childhood friends, actually! It's so nice to have another girl to the group yn," MC said, trying her best to ease the tension.

you smiled, grateful for her to try and ease it. " i'm excited, Caleb spoke so much of you."

MC brightened at your words, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth. "Really? He mentioned me?" she asked, a little surprised but clearly pleased. She shot Caleb a playful look. "I thought you forgot all about us while you were being Mr. Mysterious."

Caleb chuckled as MC left to the bathroom, leaving just the three of you. Caleb was quick to change his smile to a thin line as Zayne and him had a stare off. You looked at the both of them, picking at your nails as you began to get nervous.

" caleb… drop it, what happen in the past is over." you said softly.

Caleb didn’t look away from Zayne. His jaw ticked, tight with tension, and though you’d spoken softly, your words seemed to hang heavy in the air between them.

"Is it?" Caleb’s voice was low, bitter. "Because some people clearly don’t think so."

Zayne let out a short, humorless laugh, folding his arms across his chest. His eyes, sharp and glinting with something darker, flicked toward you briefly before returning to Caleb. "The past isn’t dead, Caleb," he said coldly. "It’s not even past."

You swallowed, feeling the temperature in the room drop. Your fingers kept fidgeting at your nails, heart thudding in your chest.

"Zayne, please," you tried again, a little firmer this time, desperate to stop whatever this was from escalating further.

His gaze softened, just barely, as it landed on you again. " why are you so set on yn. You ghosted her and all of sudden you see her again and you want her?"

Zayne’s glare darkened, a storm brewing behind his eyes. His jaw clenched so tight you swore you could hear his teeth grind. Caleb’s words hit too close to home, and Zayne hated that — hated that Caleb could still read him that well.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," Zayne growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Caleb scoffed, an almost pitying smile tugging at his lips. "Don’t I? Because it looks to me like you’re just pissed someone else got to her first."

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes darting between them as the air thickened, heavy with old wounds and unspoken things.

"Stop it," you said quickly, your voice a bit shaky but determined. "Both of you. This isn’t about me."

But they barely heard you.

"It was never about firsts, Caleb," Zayne snapped back, stepping closer, his tone sharp like a blade. "It’s about right. And you? You were never right for her."

Caleb’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, enough for Zayne to see the crack in his armor. "You don’t get to decide that," Caleb shot back, fire flickering in his eyes. "Not after you disappeared without a word. Not after you left her wondering."

You flinched at Caleb’s words, the truth of them stirring the ache in your chest. Memories you tried to bury clawed their way to the surface, uninvited and raw.

Zayne’s gaze briefly flicked to you, and for a moment, something vulnerable slipped through his defenses — regret, sharp and suffocating. But then it was gone, masked by anger.

Zayne’s lips parted like he wanted to say something — needed to say something — but the sharp beep of your pager had cut through the tension like a blade. You glanced at the screen, reading the urgent message, and sighed, the weight of responsibility sinking your shoulders.

"Figures," you mumbled under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else.

Caleb’s expression softened with guilt, his earlier fire dimmed as he extended his hand toward you. Without hesitation, you took it, your fingers curling around his like second nature. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, a silent apology in the gesture.

Zayne's eyes flicked to where your hands connected, and something dark twisted in his gaze — regret? Jealousy? Maybe both. But he didn’t speak. He just watched you with that intense stare that always managed to leave you breathless, no matter how much you tried to steel yourself against it.

"I have to get back," you said, voice quiet but final. "It was nice seeing you, Zayne…" The words tasted bittersweet, like ash and longing on your tongue.

For a heartbeat, Zayne didn’t respond. His jaw tightened as he forced out a nod, but his eyes never left yours. "Yeah," he rasped, voice low. "You too, Yn."

There was so much unsaid in those three words, it nearly made you pause. Nearly.

But Caleb’s hand in yours was an anchor, steadying you as you turned away, your heart pounding in your chest like a warning drum.

As you and Caleb walked away, you felt the weight of Zayne’s gaze burning into your back, and you ignored the feeling. You felt at peace to finally be happy.

taglist: @justpassingdontworry @dstrctaya @rena-library @boredgirls-things @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @jellypear @debrahhhhhhh @taytayy178 @cheezeandkrackers @bubbleteakittyy @lighting-and-shadow @aysmesays @chocochip-gaia @sylustoru @sleepykittyenergy @ruyaya @lifumi @angelichiaro @viqlume @mizifrog @loreleis-world @animegamerfox

[perigilpin]

a little mystery to figure out

Bo-Katan x The Armorer

The royal warrior fallen from grace and the steadfast spiritual leader, ideological opposites with a common goal. It’s the sun and the moon, now perfectly aligned in an eclipse, and no one can look away.

Written for the @swfemmefrenzy prompt Mand’alor

——————————————————————————-

At first it simply reads as a strong showing of solidarity between the two factions. The pair’s mutual respect and partnership is a sign of understanding that all walks of life, all ways to be a Mandalorian, will be honored here on thier home world.

Such it is that when the Mand’alor speaks to the crowd, it is always The Armorer at her right hand. And when the Armorer leads ceremony at the Living Waters, the Mand’alor always stands not far behind her, in support.

Yet it is not just pomp and ceremony that tie the two together. It is no secret that they can often be found side by side by side talking on this or that, in the trenches rebuilding, overseeing the foundlings training, or just sitting by the fire. (At least one observer has even claimed to have seen them walking through the gardens together while talking in hushed tones.)

In short, where one goes the other is sure to follow.

So it’s no shock that the rumor mill is set ablaze. It’s a common ground a both groups have vested interest in, and they trade peices of information like currency.

( “The Mand’alor used to be involved with a Jedi”, a Nite-Owl whispers to a member of the Covert as they haul debris together to clear room for a larger camp.

“We don’t even know The Armorer’s real name. I don’t think anyone does.” he replies.)

Perhaps the first whispers started back on Nevvaro, within the Covert, when then now Mand’alor emerged scandalously bare faced from the humble forge, walking side by side with thier leader. Or maybe it was during the battle for Mandalor, as silver and gold sliced and swung in perfect sync as they led the charge.

It’s quite the tale really.

The royal warrior fallen from grace and the steadfast spiritual leader, ideological opposites with a common goal. It’s the sun and the moon, now perfectly aligned in an eclipse, and no one can look away.

So of course people talk, as they always have, as they always will.

Sparring partners debate as they clash. (“I heard they got secretly married right after the battle for Mandalor.”

Then the adamant reply, “No way. I bet they actually hate each other. It’s gotta be be just for show.”)

Friends whisper to each other in the dining hall.(“Do you think the Manda’lor has seen her face?”)

There is one thing everyone agrees on though, and that is that there is much work to do.

Especially so in the forge. The Mand’alor has been leading parties in to the destroyed imperial base. First as search parties, now to gather the fallen imperial’s pieces of bastardised beskar.

The shiny white armor plates begin to stack up in the back of the forge, and while it means much work, it also means new armor for foundlings and repairs for those damaged in battle.

On this particular day, a curious gaggle of both helmeted and bare faced young Mandalorians watch The Armorer from a distance in the shadows of the cavernous great forge hall. She hammers at the forge, methodically working a large peice of metal until the sound of a small vehicle breaks her from her trance.

It’s the Mand’alor, backing up a speeder full of shining white imperial helmets, chest plates, and miscellaneous pieces.

The helmetless woman jumps straight of out the seat over the side of the speeder, and gestures with a flourish to the bounty. She says something playfully that, even straining, the group can’t quite manage to hear.

What they do hear is a laugh tempered with the lightest static from a voice modulator, that resounds throughout the cavernous chamber. The Armorer then closes the gap between herself and The Mand’alor, gently placing her gloved hands on the other woman’s shoulders before letting them fall, tenderly grazing the length of her arms on the way down.

“Ooo! I told you!” One of the foundlings squeals from the shadows , “They’re definitely in love.”

“They are not” her friend parries, not as quietly as they should have , “Just because YOU are in love with our Manda’lor does not mean everyone else is too.”

“Phstt, shut up! You’re just mad you lost our bet.” She playfully swats at her friend but the beskar on beskar contact sends a high pitched ping throughout the chamber and both Bo-Katan and The Armorer turn thier heads to to look in thier direction.

“Run! Let’s get out of here.”

“You owe me 10 credits!”

“I do not, that didn’t prove anything!”

Their voices carry throughout the chamber as they scurry away, despite their best efforts.

In the distance, on the grand pedestal of the ancient forge, Bo-Katan smiles despite herself focusing her attention back on The Armorer.

“I have to get this speeder back to the landing platform, but after that...” she lifts her hand to play with the ruffled furs on the edge of The Armorer’s cape, “I’m plenty free to prove anything you’d like.”

“Well my tracinya’ika” she replies in the soft voice that Bo-Katan has come to know is just for her, “I might have a few ideas.”

“This is the way.”

[nocturnalcharm]

Faking It (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: charles forces you and logan to do a mission together in order to help you bond. 𐙚 cw: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, if this does well i’ll do a part 2 w smut ;) cussing, 𐙚 a/n:  thanks to everyone who's sent me req's! this wasnt a req but id already started it haha if youve sent a req ill try to get to it asap.... also so many ppl wanted to be added to a taglist but for the nsfw alphabet post i dont think it tagged like half the ppl?? so im sorry if u dont get tagged, im trying to fix it :)

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“(Y/N), it’s not me you should be apologizing to. It’s your team. That’s who you both let down.” He eyes flick between you and Logan.

“I’ll go apologize to them now.” You turn to leave.

“You too Logan.” Charles says.

On this latest mission, you needed to sneak into a factory and take down all of the enemies— But you and Logan were arguing so loudly, you alerted all of the rivals, turning a few quick sneak attacks into full blown fights. No one was badly injured but you still felt horrible about it.

“This is all your fault.” You mumbled, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

“My fault? You’re kidding.” He huffs.

“Shut up.” You walk ahead of him, on the way to the common room to see your team.

Everyone was sitting there, talking amongst themselves. Once you and Logan entered, they all stopped their conversations and looked at you.

“Guys. I am so sorry about this mission.”

“I’m sorry, extremely sorry, and I apologize for my behavior.” Logan mocked your expression of regret.

“You are such a child, Logan! I’m trying to apologize!” You raised your voice.

“I am too!”

“Can you two just stop?” Hank stood up, silencing you both. “Your attitudes have been getting in the way of every mission. If you guys can’t get along then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh..” You didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t believe you let your dislike for Logan get in the way of your job, so much that they thought you shouldn’t be an X-Man anymore.

They all left the room, leaving just you and Logan to culminate in your thoughts.

“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re not going to get along any time soon.” He broke the silence.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He walked out, as you sat in the empty room.

The next day, Xavier called you and Logan into his office yet again. You were concerned, worried he might be kicking you off the team. But instead, he said he had a mission for you two.

“I need you to pose as a couple. You’ll be going to an upscale hotel in Manhattan. It’s a cover for a drug smuggling ring. You two will stay as guests in order to collect information. I need everyone that is there, guests and workers alike, to think you two are madly in love. We don’t know who could be involved, so we can’t have them think anything suspicious.”

“Professor, is that the best idea? We just blew the last mission because we couldn’t stop arguing.”

“If you two fail this mission, I will have no choice but to replace both of you. You are amazing at what you do, but your arguing affects everyone. Not just yourselves.”

“Okay. We won’t let you down.” Logan speaks up.

***

The trip to the hotel was long and frustrating. You two couldn’t agree on anything the entire time. You criticized his driving, he criticized what you put on the radio, and how loud it was. You called him an old man, which just resulted in the radio being turned off and continuing the last hour drive there in silence.

When you arrived, it was late afternoon. Logan, pretending to be your fiance, grabbed all the bags by himself and walked inside. The hotel was huge. It was upscale, classy. So fancy you were afraid to touch anything, in fear it might break.

“Hi! Checking in for Anderson.” He greeted the front desk clerk, giving his forged name. He dropped the bags on the floor and you wrapped yourself around his now-free arm, squeezing it.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” She smiled back, “Let’s see. You had the penthouse, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re celebrating our engagement!” You beamed, holding out your hand, showing off your fake engagement ring.

“That’s lovely. Congratulations! We’ll have a bottle of champagne in your room for celebration.”

“Thank you so much!” You squeaked.

He finished the check-in process, then you headed to the top floor.

The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the size of a decent apartment. Just like the lobby, you were afraid to break something.

“Wow.. This is amazing. Only time I’ll ever get to stay in a penthouse and it’s with you.” You said, as he shut the door.

“I was just thinking the same thing. Now, c’mon we gotta go to the pool. Get changed.” He handed you your bag.

You opened it, pulling out your bikini. It was the only one you had, admittedly from a few years ago. You didn’t have time anymore to relax by a pool or go swimming in the ocean, so this swimsuit had to do. It was a simple black string bikini.

You went inside the bathroom to change. Once you had your swimsuit on, you felt a little self conscious at the amount of skin showing, but figured it’d help with the whole ‘can’t keep your hands off your new fiance’ vibe you and Logan needed to exude for this mission.

You walked out of the bathroom, faking confidence you didn’t have. Logan had taken the opportunity to just change in the living space since he was alone. He was wearing black swim trunks. It was funny, it looked like you two had matched on purpose.

“Wow.” He said quietly, clearing his throat.

“What? You like what you see?” You joked at his clear uncomfortableness with seeing you in such little clothing.

“Whatever, let’s just go.” He spat, grabbing two towels, the key, and exiting the room.

The second you were out the door, you both had big smiles on your face. His arm was around you, holding your side as you headed to the pool.

It wasn’t too busy, just a few kids with their parents, and a bartender at the outdoor bar. You told him you wanted a drink, so that’s where you headed first.

“Hey, can I get two Mojitos?” Logan asked, handing him the room key “And can you just charge it to our room?”

“Of course,” He started working on the drinks immediately, while you two sat and people-watched. He finished the drinks, and gave you them and the room key back.

You said thank you as you walked off, hoping Logan would just follow. There was a small hot tub that was empty, so that’s where you went. You stepped in carefully, afraid of slipping, and sat down in the warm water.

“Really?” Logan whispered, a fake smile still adorned on his face.

“This is what couples do, Logan. And we’re a couple for this weekend. So sit down and act like you love me, sweetie.” Your grin was starting to hurt your cheeks.

He sat down across from you, and you mentally rolled your eyes. You got up, and repositioned yourself, sitting in his lap, “What part of ‘act like you love me’ are you not getting?” 

He was frozen for a moment, caught off guard but quickly acted like he was happy to have you there, to not draw suspicion. You both took sips of your drink, as you continued to nonchalantly looked around.

You two stayed at the pool for awhile, taking mental notes of the guests and employees you saw. Honestly, this hotel didn’t seem too strange. But Xavier said it was a front so you guessed that’s why it seemed so normal, for their cover.

Once your drinks were empty, and the sun had started to go down, you both decided to head back up to the room. He got out drying himself off before wrapping you up in your towel. He picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the penthouse.

“Logan!”

“What? Just acting like I love you.” He smirked.

Once inside the room, he set you down. “I’m gonna go shower.” You stated, not really knowing what to do. 

He just nodded, walking off to the kitchenette. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom.

***

You mentally cursed yourself as you scrambled through your bag, searching for a pair of pajama shorts you thought you packed, but they were nowhere to be found. 

“This cannot be real.” You whispered. The only other clothes you brought were jean shorts, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sleep in those.

You pulled out your oversized sleepshirt, putting it on. The hem landed right above the middle of your thigh. It was a little shorter than the length of a nightgown, so you just hoped he wouldn’t notice. You slipped on a pair of panties, snatched up your things, and exited the bathroom.

You immediately bumped into Logan, who was standing right outside the door.

“What the fuck?” You raised your voice, annoyed. “Why are you right outside the door?”

“I was about to knock. You’ve been in there for over an hour.”

“It’s all yours!” You sassed.

You walked over to the small kitchen, and see he had already opened up the champagne. You had a glass as you sat on a barstool, writing down some notes about the people you’d observed earlier. Pouring yourself another glass, you headed over to the bed.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Logan came out of the washroom, in just a towel. You stared at his wet torso for a moment, hypnotized.

“My eyes are up here.” He laughed.

You looked up, embarrassed.

“Forgot my clothes. Hey, wait, why are you in the bed?”

“…Because I’m the girl?”

“You're also the short one. I can’t fit on that couch.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine. Unless you’re nervous. Never slept with a girl before, Lo?”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue, before taking his clothes and escaping back to the bathroom. You silently celebrated your victory.

He came out a few moments later, turning off the lights, sliding under the blankets and getting comfortable. You both ended up facing the same direction. If he was any closer, he’d be the big spoon, but there was a few inches separating you.

You adjusted your body, and accidentally felt your ass rub against him. You went rigid from humiliation, before scooting away slightly, ignoring it since he didn’t say anything.

You tried to fall asleep, but it was difficult, for many reasons. One, you’re not used to having someone else in your bed. Two, he was breathing heavily. Three, you couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy he was.

Of course, you knew Logan was attractive, you’d thought that since the moment you first saw him. But today, probably because of the faux-gagement, the touching, the flirting, you saw him differently. He was still getting on your nerves, but the flames between you two… His body… It was unlike before.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You twiddled your feet, moving around your body nervously, before unintentionally grazing your ass against his crotch again.

“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.

“Maybe that’s what I want.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Taglist:

@figsnpassionfruits @marcybug @sacred-holy-light @keigohawks @rockytheluver @parasiiite @iluvstrawberry @18lkpeters @daydreamin1220 @hoesformenotforyou @ninuwrites @chaoticpaintsplatter @red-jay @sweet1squash @here2bawl @silversprings-mp3 @leathargic @issylovessharks @serenewrote @jakegyllenbaalz @whore-for-marvel@cookiesandcreammoolkshake @what-did-you-just-say @demitralover @midnight036 @lanassmarty @sugarrushbell @kitomon @lysmeadows @halpin4 @rebelmarylou @jupitersiberis @ginamcflurry @dilflover-420 @blubobbi @midsommarmayqueen911 @popsickle1235 @jairmi @maxx205 @kmc217 @callmejod @bellaaa32 @suiien @whiskytoast @zeeader @jasmines-greentea @malfoys-demigod @poplottie @navs-bhat @argos-13 @marvelreadingarchive @krisslegacy @chassidypowell24 @godness-gracious13 @hpttsa @fandomsunited @sseleniaa @vampuck @veetallla @chasedbyatlantic @fluffy-anna @deaky-with-a-c

[nerdycheol]

Yours to Keep || J.W.W

pairing: Wonwoo x reader

wc: 4.5k

genre: fluff, angst, long-distance relationship

(a/n): missing Wonwoo hours is officially on. I just wanted to post something for him before he leaves. Also thankyou cel ( @mylovesstuffs ) and ro ( @shinysobi ) for beta reading ^^

summary: Before leaving for military service, Wonwoo hands you a disposable camera, saying, "Take a picture whenever you think of me." At first, you laugh it off, but as the days pass, you find yourself reaching for the camera more often than you expected

join the permanent taglist

The Departure

The night before he leaves, the air feels different—heavier, like the weight of unsaid words is pressing down on both of you.

You sat together on the couch, a blanket draped over both your legs, the TV playing a movie neither of you were really watching. Wonwoo’s arm was resting along the back of the couch, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his skin, but he hasn’t touched you in a while. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he knows the moment he does, it’ll make leaving that much harder.

You stole a glance at him. His face is calm, unreadable, but you know him too well to be fooled. His fingers drummed softly against the fabric of his sweatpants—restless. He’s been like this all evening, like he’s bracing himself for the inevitable.

“…You should go to bed soon,” he finally says, his voice quieter than usual. “You have to wake up early.”

Your throat tightens. So do you, you want to say, but instead, you shake your head. “Not sleepy.”

He exhales a soft laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Liar.”

You don’t argue. Instead, you pull your knees up to your chest, curling into yourself. He watches you for a moment before reaching behind him.

“Here.” He handed you something small, something rectangular. You took it hesitantly, fingers brushing his, and when you looked down, you saw a disposable camera resting in your palm.

You blink up at him. “Wonwoo, what is this?”

He shrugs, looking almost shy. “Just thought… whenever you think of me, you could take a picture. So you won’t forget me.”

Your heart aches at the way he says it—lightly, like it’s a joke, but the meaning behind it is anything but.

“Idiot,” you murmur, gripping the camera tighter. “Like I could forget you.”

He smiles at that, but there’s something in his expression that makes your chest tighten. You don’t want this moment to end, because when it does, it means morning will come, and with it, the goodbye you’re not ready for.

But time is cruel, and before you know it, the night slips away.

—

The train station is busy, filled with people coming and going, but to you, it feels like you and Wonwoo are standing in your own little world.

You’ve never been good at goodbyes. You hate how they always feel too short, no matter how long they actually last.

Wonwoo shifts his bag on his shoulder, looking down at you. “You’ll be okay, right?”

You nod, but you don’t think you really mean it. He sees right through you, sighing as he reaches out to ruffle your hair—something he always does when he doesn’t know how else to comfort you.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

You bite your lip, willing yourself not to cry. “Liar.”

That makes him laugh, and for a moment, it’s just like any other day. Like he isn’t about to step onto that train, like he isn’t about to leave for months.

The announcement echoes overhead. Wonwoo glanced at the clock, then back at you. His eyes soften.

“Guess this is it.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Yeah.”

He hesitates, then reaches for your hand, squeezing it once before letting go. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. You feel the words lingering between you, the ones he’s never been good at saying out loud.

You watched as he took a step back, then another. And then, with one last lingering glance, he turns and walks away.

Your fingers tighten around the camera in your pocket.

The first picture you take is of the train as it disappears into the horizon.

The First Few Weeks

The first thing you notice is the silence.

Wonwoo never filled a room with noise—he wasn’t the type. But the absence of him is loud in a way that makes your chest feel hollow. You woke up the morning after he left, instinctively reaching for the other side of the bed, only to find cool, untouched sheets. You tell yourself it’s fine. You’ll get used to it.

Except you don’t.

The first week is the hardest. Every little thing reminds you of him. The empty coffee mug sitting on the kitchen counter because you keep forgetting that you only need one now. The folded-up blanket on the couch, still carrying the faintest trace of his cologne. The Spotify playlist he made for you playing on shuffle while you try to focus on anything that isn’t the aching space he left behind.

You held out for a call, a text—something. But the military isn’t generous with communication, and you know you won’t hear from him often. You try to be rational about it. You tried to focus on other things. But every time your phone lit up, your heart stumbled, hoping it was him.

It never is.

You don’t want to admit how much you miss him. It’s embarrassing, really. He’s only been gone for a few days, and you’re acting like you’ve been separated for years. But the quiet moments are the worst—the ones where you have no distractions, nowhere to direct your thoughts.

And that’s when you remembered the camera.

It had been sitting on your nightstand since he gave it to you, untouched. You pick it up hesitantly, rolling it over in your hands.

"Whenever you think of me, take a picture."

You scoffed under your breath. He’s going to regret saying that.

Because the first picture you take is of his empty side of the bed—a silent complaint, a little jab at how much you miss him already. You didn't let yourself linger on it for too long, tossing the camera back onto the nightstand and climbing out of bed.

___

Days passed, and the camera became an extension of your routine.

You take pictures without thinking too hard about it, little pieces of your life that he’s no longer here to witness. The second picture is your morning coffee, still made in two mugs before you remember there’s no one to drink the other. The third is the bookshop you both love, his favorite aisle tucked into a quiet corner.

You find yourself narrating moments to him in your head, like he’s still beside you. Wonwoo, you wouldn’t believe the way our neighbor’s cat tried to steal my lunch today. Wonwoo, I went to that ramen place you like, and they gave me extra toppings because they felt bad I was eating alone.

You don’t say them out loud, but somehow, taking the pictures feels like sending a message. Like you’re keeping a record of your days, waiting to share them with him when he comes back.

___

One evening, you caught yourself reaching for your phone before realizing, again, that you couldn't call him. Frustrated, you grab the camera and snap a picture of yourself in the bathroom mirror—tired eyes, a messy ponytail, an expression that practically screams, "I miss you, idiot."

You roll your eyes at yourself. Pathetic.

Still, you didn't delete it.

Somewhere in the quiet, you started to realize—this wasn't just about missing him. This was proof. Proof that life is still moving, that you’re still finding ways to smile, to laugh, to exist, even in his absence.

And maybe, just maybe, when he finally came back, you’d hand him this little stack of memories and say—

"See? I never stopped thinking of you."

The Changing Seasons

The world keeps turning, even when part of you feels frozen in time.

Autumn faded into winter, and with it, the sharpness of your grief softened. Missing Wonwoo doesn’t feel like an open wound anymore—it becomes a quiet, familiar ache, something that sits in your chest like a second heartbeat. You still woke up reaching for him, still caught yourself glancing at your phone too often, but the loneliness no longer consumed you.

Winter was harsh this year. The first snowfall blankets the city in white, and for a moment, it’s almost beautiful. You remember the way Wonwoo used to stick his hands into his coat pockets, his nose red from the cold, mumbling about how he’d rather be inside reading. The memory makes you smile, and without thinking, you grab the camera.

Click. A picture of the snow-covered street. The kind of scene he’d roll his eyes at but secretly find pretty.

The days were slow, but they passed. You kept moving forward, one foot in front of the other. Work keeps you busy, friends pull you into plans you’d rather avoid, but you go anyway—because that’s what Wonwoo would want.

You started writing him letters.

Not the kind you send—just scribbled thoughts on paper, folded neatly and tucked away. Some are short: I saw someone today who looked like you, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. Others are longer, rambling about your day, the books you’ve been reading, the songs you’ve been listening to. It’s comforting, in a way, to pretend he’ll read them someday.

Then spring came, and with it, a shift.

The world thawed. Trees blossom, the air turns warm, and the weight on your shoulders lifts—just a little. It’s strange how time does that. How grief doesn’t disappear, but it changes shape, fitting itself into the life you’re still trying to live.

You took more pictures now. Not just for him, but for yourself.

The cherry blossoms are in full bloom—soft pink petals against the sky.

The first ice cream of the season, melting too fast in the sun.

A selfie, just to prove to yourself that you’re still here, still living.

There was a moment—just a fleeting one—where you thought, Maybe I’m okay.

Then summer arrived.

And so did his letter.

You recognized his handwriting instantly, your breath catching as you tore open the envelope. It was short, because Wonwoo had never been one for long-winded words.

"I miss you. Are you still taking pictures?"

Your hands shook as you held the paper.

And for the first time in months, you cried.

Not because of sadness. Not because of longing.

But because you finally understood.

This distance—it was temporary. Seasons change. Time moves. And eventually, he’ll come home.

And when he does, you’ll have a whole life’s worth of memories waiting for him.

The Hardest Days

Some days pass in a blur—wake up, work, eat, sleep, repeat. You go through the motions, keeping busy enough that the ache in your chest doesn’t have time to settle. But the hardest days?

The hardest days drag.

They stretch endlessly, pressing down on you until you feel like you might sink under the weight of them. They aren’t loud or dramatic; they don’t come with warning signs. Instead, they creep in quietly, disguised as ordinary moments that turn into reminders of how much you miss him.

__

The first bad day comes two weeks after Wonwoo leaves.

You were doing okay, keeping yourself distracted, until you stepped into your favorite bookstore—the one you used to visit together. At first, it felt fine. You even reached for a book you thought he’d like, flipping through the pages with a small smile.

Then, you glanced to your right.

His usual spot—third shelf from the entrance, where he’d always linger, eyes scanning the titles like he was searching for something he’d lost—was empty.

The realization hit you like a punch to the stomach. You could almost see him there, adjusting his glasses, tilting his head slightly in thought. You could hear his voice in your head, muttering about how he “wasn’t going to buy anything this time” only to walk out with three new books.

But he wasn’t there.

And for the first time since he left, you truly felt his absence.

You left without buying anything.

__

The days bleed into each other after that. Some are manageable. Others make you feel like time is moving too slowly, stretching the distance between you even further.

Then the second bad day comes.

It starts with an innocent notification—a new game update.

Wonwoo had been so excited about this one. He’d rambled about it for weeks, explaining all the new features in way too much detail, his eyes lighting up in that rare, boyish way. You’d teased him for it, but truthfully, you’d loved seeing him that excited.

Your fingers hover over your phone, debating whether to open the game.

But what’s the point? He’s not here to play with you. There won’t be any late-night matches, no playful competition, no quiet chuckles when you mess up and pretend it was lag.

Still, you tap the icon. The screen loads, and suddenly, your vision blurs.

Because there—at the top of your friend list—is his username, followed by the dreaded words:

"Last online: 14 days ago."

The tears come faster than you expect.

You stare at the screen for a long time, hands clenched tightly around your phone, chest aching in ways you don’t know how to fix. The world keeps moving, but for you, time feels frozen in the moment he left.

___

And then, the hardest day of them all.

It’s late—past midnight. You should have been sleeping, but instead, you were lying in bed, curled up under the blanket Wonwoo used to steal half of.

Your body feels heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and loneliness.

You roll over, reaching for your phone, because on nights like this, instinct takes over. You want to call him. Just to hear his voice, just to know he’s still there, even from miles away.

But you can’t.

So instead, you do something even more reckless.

You scroll up in your messages. Past the "good luck" text you sent before he left. Past the "I landed safely" reply he sent hours later. Past the little check-ins, the random inside jokes, the "I miss you too" he sent on a particularly bad night.

You scroll all the way back—weeks, months���until you find the voice messages.

Your fingers tremble as you press play.

"You always stay up too late, you know that?" Wonwoo’s voice filters through the speaker, quiet and familiar.

"I swear, if you don’t start sleeping earlier, I’m gonna—ugh, never mind. Just take care of yourself, okay?"

There’s a slight pause, then a soft chuckle.

"You’re probably rolling your eyes right now."

A shaky breath leaves your lips.

"Alright, go to sleep. Goodnight, dummy."

The recording ends. The silence that follows is deafening.

And that’s when it really hits.

It’s not just that you miss him. It’s not just loneliness. It’s the fact that you can’t reach for him whenever you want. You can’t call him and expect an immediate answer. You can’t see him, can’t hear his real-time reactions, can’t fall asleep to the sound of him breathing beside you.

He’s gone.

And no amount of scrolling through old messages will change that.

So you do the only thing you can do.

You clutch the phone to your chest, squeeze your eyes shut, and let the tears fall.

Somewhere, across the distance, Wonwoo is probably doing the same.

The Small Joys & Healing

Time has a funny way of moving. Some days stretch endlessly, the hours dragging with a weight that makes everything feel slower, heavier. And then, without warning, weeks slip past in a blur of routine and half-hearted distractions. You don’t know which is worse—feeling like you’re stuck in time or feeling like you’re moving too fast without him.

But eventually, somewhere in between the long nights and the quiet mornings, you start to find something like peace.

It’s not the kind of peace that makes the missing go away. No, that lingers, settling in your bones like a familiar ache. But it’s a softer kind of longing now—one that doesn’t consume you, one that reminds you that love doesn’t disappear with distance.

___

The first few weeks were the hardest, but the world didn’t stop turning just because he was gone.

You still wake up every morning, even when the bed feels emptier than usual. You still go about your day, even when every little thing reminds you of him. The bookstore you both used to visit, the ramen place he always craved at the most random times, the late-night walks that feel lonelier without his quiet presence beside you.

At first, you avoid these things. It feels wrong to do them without him, like you’re leaving him behind somehow.

But then, slowly, you do return.

You find yourself stepping into the bookstore one afternoon, the familiar scent of paper and ink wrapping around you. It’s instinct to glance toward the third shelf—the one where he always stood, hands tucked into his pockets as he scanned the titles. He’s not there, of course. But you let yourself linger anyway.

Your fingers brush against the spines of books you know he would’ve picked. A classic novel with poetic prose. A sci-fi story with a plot twist he’d figure out before the halfway mark. A historical book he’d read just to debate the accuracy of it later.

Before you know it, you’re picking one up.

Not just for him. For you.

Maybe, when he comes back, you can tell him about it. Maybe you’ll finally have something to recommend to him instead of the other way around.

The thought makes your chest feel lighter.

__

Then, there’s the laughter.

It sneaks up on you one evening while you’re on a call with friends. They’re arguing over something ridiculous—whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza, or maybe which video game has the worst NPC dialogue. You’re half-listening, offering the occasional hum of agreement, until someone casually brings up Wonwoo.

“He’s probably trying to act all serious in training,” one of them says. “But I bet he still zones out mid-conversation like usual.”

The memory of Wonwoo’s blank, unreadable expressions comes rushing back, and before you can stop it, a laugh bubbles up. A real one.

And just like that, you remember:

Wonwoo might be far away, but he’s not gone.

He’s still him, still existing, still part of the world you share.

It’s a simple realization, but it lifts something inside you.

You laugh again that night, and for the first time in weeks, it doesn’t feel like you’re betraying the ache in your chest.

___

And then come the letters.

They don’t arrive often, but when they do, they feel like tiny lifelines. A piece of him, sent across the miles, just for you.

The first one is short, the paper slightly crinkled at the edges. His handwriting is neat but rushed, like he was scribbling between moments of exhaustion.

"I’m fine. Tired, but fine. It’s weird not having my phone. I keep reaching for it before remembering I can’t just text you. I hope you’re eating well."

You trace your fingers over the ink, swallowing the lump in your throat. Even in the middle of everything, he’s still thinking of you.

"Oh, and don’t let them trick you into watching horror movies without me. You know you’ll regret it."

A small, breathy laugh escapes you. He knows you too well.

That night, you sit at your desk with a pen in hand, writing your own letter back. You tell him about your days, the little things he might miss—the bookstore visit, the ramen place, how your friends still argue over the same things. You try not to sound too sad, even though the words feel heavier than they should.

At the end, you add, “I miss you. But I’ll wait. Just don’t forget about me, okay?”

You don’t expect an immediate reply, but when his next letter arrives weeks later, your heart pounds as you unfold the paper.

"I could never forget you. Don’t even joke about that."

And just like that, the waiting feels a little easier.

___

Healing doesn’t come all at once. Some days are lighter, some days are heavy. There are moments when the longing feels unbearable, when all you want is to hear his voice, to see him sitting beside you, to feel the warmth of his hand in yours. But there are also moments of quiet contentment—when the missing turns into something gentler, something that reminds you that he’s still yours, even from a distance.

And maybe that’s enough.

For now.

Because love like this—steady, unshaken, unwavering—is worth waiting for.

And when he comes back?

You’ll be right there, waiting.

The Return

The moment you spot him, the air in your lungs disappears.

You’ve been preparing for this day for months—counting down, dreaming about how it would feel to finally see him again. But none of those daydreams could’ve prepared you for this.

For him.

He steps past the arrival gate, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his uniform crisp and perfectly fitted. His posture is straighter, his movements sharper, his presence heavier. It’s him, but at the same time, it isn’t.

Wonwoo has always been broad, but now he’s different—stronger. His shoulders are wider, his arms more defined, muscles straining slightly under the fabric of his uniform. Even his stance is different, more solid, more certain.

And his face.

Your heart stutters at the sight of him.

The softness of youth has faded from his features, replaced by sharper angles, a sculpted jawline, a quiet confidence that wasn’t there before. His skin is tanned, kissed by the sun after months of training outdoors. His lips are slightly chapped, a little more serious than you remember. And his eyes—

They meet yours across the crowded terminal, and everything else ceases to exist.

Your chest tightens.

His gaze is the same.

Still warm, still familiar, still your Wonwoo.

For a second, he doesn’t move. He just stands there, watching you, taking you in. And then—

The corner of his lips twitches. A breath of a smile.

And just like that, you’re running.

You push past strangers, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out the noise around you. He sees you coming, and before you even reach him, his bag is slipping from his shoulder, arms already opening—

Then you crash into him.

He’s solid. So, so solid. Your arms wrap around him, and for a second, he stumbles back from the force of your embrace. But then his hands find your waist, gripping you tightly, pressing you closer.

And oh.

He feels different.

The Wonwoo you remember was warm and comforting, but this Wonwoo is unshakable. His back is firm under your touch, his arms secure around you, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. He smells like fabric softener and something distinctively him, something you missed more than you can ever put into words.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe, voice muffled against his shoulder.

He exhales shakily. “Yeah,” he murmurs, like he can’t believe this is real either.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hands fisting the back of his uniform. He doesn’t let go. Neither do you.

When you finally pull back, your hands instinctively find his face, palms pressing against his cheeks. He lets you look at him, watching as you take in every detail—every sun-kissed inch of his skin, every small change time has left behind.

“You got buff,” you whisper, half teasing, half awed.

His lips quirk slightly. “That’s the first thing you say?”

You laugh, a little breathless, shaking your head. “You just—” You pause, eyes sweeping over him again. “You look different.”

Wonwoo tilts his head. “Yeah?”

You nod, fingers brushing over his jaw, feeling the rougher skin there. “But you’re still you.”

His expression softens, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. His hands, still resting on your waist, tighten just slightly. “Still me,” he echoes.

You smile. “Still mine.”

Something shifts in his gaze. His thumb brushes against your hip, and for a moment, he just looks at you, like he’s memorizing this moment, memorizing you.

Then, voice quieter than before, he murmurs, “Always.”

And with that, he takes your hand, laces his fingers with yours—strong, sure, steady.

“Let’s go home.”

Epilogue: Home

The apartment feels the same, yet entirely different.

It smells like the candles you kept burning, like fresh linen and the faint scent of coffee. The same bookshelf stands against the wall, still overflowing with your shared collection of novels and mangas. The couch still has the blanket you always curled up in, the one that used to smell like him before it faded away.

But now—he’s here.

Wonwoo stands in the center of the living room, eyes scanning the space like he’s reacquainting himself with it, like he’s trying to remember what it felt like to belong here. His duffel bag rests by the door, abandoned the moment he stepped inside. His jacket is slung over the back of a chair, and he’s wearing the plain black tee and gray sweatpants you had set out for him, finally out of that uniform that made him feel distant—unreachable.

His hair is shorter, his shoulders broader. His stance is different, like the months away have reshaped him in ways that are still settling. But his eyes—they are the same. Warm. Familiar. Home.

And then his gaze landeds on what you’re holding.

The disposable camera.

A slow smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “You still have that?”

You nod, turning it over in your hands, fingers brushing over the familiar ridges of the plastic body. “Of course. You gave it to me before you left.”

He had slipped it into your hands that day at the departure gate, voice teasing but eyes serious. "Take pictures. So I don’t miss too much."

So you did.

Of your morning coffee, of the stray cat that lingered by the bookstore, of the first snowfall that settled on the windowsill. Silly things. Little things. Things you wished he could’ve seen.

Wonwoo stepped closer, his fingers ghosting over the camera. “How many are left?”

You glanced at the film counter. “One.”

His expression shifted—something unreadable flickering in his gaze before he reached out, fingers wrapping around the camera.

Click.

The shutter snaps before you can react.

Your eyes widen. “Wait, what—”

Wonwoo lowered the camera, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Wanted the last one to be of you.”

Your heart stutters.

You should’ve expected it. He has always been like this—quietly sentimental in ways that take you by surprise. But something about this moment, about the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to memorize every detail—it makes warmth bloom in your chest.

You reach for the camera, setting it gently on the table before stepping closer, wrapping your arms around him.

Wonwoo exhales, his hold firm, grounding. His chin rests against the top of your head, and for the first time in months, you feel complete.

“You’re back,” you whisper.

His lips brush against your temple. “I’m back.”

A pause.

Then, softer—“I missed you.”

Your fingers tighten around the fabric of his shirt, your throat tightening with emotion. “I missed you too.”

Outside, the city hums with life, the world moving as it always has. But here, in this small apartment, time stills.

And as you stand there in his arms, the disposable camera sitting beside you, its final photo safely tucked away inside—you know you’ll never need it to remember this moment.

(join my taglist) ^^

[landopoet]

two prizes.

pairing lando norris x journalist!reader

warnings smut, oral (fem receiving), mentions of alcohol

synopsis that day was not the first time you and lando had met, and he helps you remember that

author’s note posting my older works, thanks to @clovermoters for the collage up top!

♯

Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.

The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Miami GrandPrix.

Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.

You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.

That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?

You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.

Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.

You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Hello?”

She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”

Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.

“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”

“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”

“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”

“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”

With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.

Well, not first ever.

You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.

It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.

You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.

The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”

Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.

If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.

You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.

“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.

“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.

Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.

After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”

You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.

This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.

You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.

“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”

“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”

The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.

“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”

Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.

“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”

“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.

It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.

Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”

“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.

“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.

After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.

“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”

Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.

“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy. “This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”

“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”

You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”

Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”

“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“

“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”

You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.

He gives you a piece of paper with something scribbled on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”

And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.

“Thanks, mate.”

Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.

His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.

When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.

You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”

“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”

“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “A victory looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”

“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.

Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.

The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.

It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.

You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”

The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.

Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.

Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.

“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”

His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.

“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.

You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.

After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.

“It was you.”

Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.

You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”

“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

You nodded. “Every day since that night.”

Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”

A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”

“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”

[bcystar]

— CANT HANDLE IT

You can’t bear to see Joaquín injured

Joaquín Torres x med student!gn!reader

wc: 1.1k

warnings: hurt no comfort, mentions of injuries, cursing, mention of finals (sigh)

authors note:My next fic is gonna be a cute lil Iron!dad and Spider!son one and it’s alr at 1.2k words at like the beginning of the climax so I can’t wait to share that too! (no promises that it won’t hurt feelings though) ENJOY! (I was gonna wait till Wednesday to post this but I got too excited💔💔)

You and Joaquín were stood adjacent to each other. Your glossy eyes only staring at the scars on his neck and shoulder. He was staring at you. You could feel it. His beautiful, warm, always held joy in them eyes filled with nothing but pain. He was just discharged from the hospital and was so excited to finally come home and feel your love in the comfort of his home. Instead he was faced with a cold shoulder and ignorance.

“What’s wrong, Angel?” He spoke softly.

You finally looked up at his face. You could really see the concern and slight pain in is face.

“What’s wrong? Are you kidding me?”

He just looked at you confused.

“You were dead for two whole minutes is what’s wrong!”

“It was only two minutes, I’m all better now. See?” He approached you slowly trying to hold your hands. You back away and snatched your hands off of his. His brows furrowed as his heart dropped. You’d never backed away from his touch let alone yelled at him.

“That’s not the point Joaquín! I can’t handle this anymore…” tears formed in your eyes “…the bruises, the cuts, the secrecy. I’ll go to sleep one night with you next to me and in the morning you’ll be gone! I don’t get a heads up, or a text, not even a damn letter!”

“Angel…”

“Don’t ’Angel’ me, Joaquín. All I ask is for a heads up or a warning. You go on these dangerous missions and you don’t even show back up until days, sometimes weeks, later!” Now your volume is starting to raise.

“You know I can’t tell you! If I tell you then the safety of the mission is at risk!” Now he’s starting to get frustrated too.

“Yeah that’s what you tell me every single fucking time! That shit isn’t going to work for you every time!”

“What does that mean?” He can’t believe what you’re implying. “You’re wearing that ring aren’t you? Why would I cheat if I proposed!”

“Who said I was talking about cheating?”

“Oh you know what you were saying.” He rests his hands on his hips and turns slightly away from you.

A moment passes before you speak again.

“You know I missed a final? I’d stayed up for three nights in a row studying for it and the call about you went off right as I started it.” Your tears are escaping faster and faster now.

Joaquín’s head turned to face you at your statement. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” He tried holding you, out of habit, but you backed away again. His heart was starting to hurt more and more.

“And make you bear that guilt at that state? You would’ve been dead permanently.” You let out a bitter chuckle.

“W-well maybe your professor would let you take it now! I’m sure you can send an email!”

“I got a zero. There’s no do-overs with this Joaquín! I’m sick of his lifestyle you have me living! I’m sick of you!” And that’s when his heart fully shattered.

“No you don’t mean that, you’re just tired, Amor…” he was crying now.

“I mean every word. I’ve lost hours and hours of sleep worrying about you, I’ve missed too many deadlines because you decide to get hurt and come home for me to fix you, and you want me to be okay with you being an Avenger?!”

He was stunned at your last statement. When Sam had made him an Avenger you were the first person he told. You smiled so hard and squeezed him so tight, people would’ve thought he achieved world peace if they saw the two of you. The two of you had went out the fanciest restaurant and you’d bought him dinner (much to his objection). You’d made it seem like you were over the Moon. He was so confused.

“What do you mean? I thought you were happy about me being an Avenger?”

“Being an Avenger is what killed Tony Stark and left his wife widowed! Along with that robot and Black Widow! I don’t want to be the next Avenger widow!”

He was honestly just hurt you didn’t have more faith in him and his abilities.

“What you think I’m not strong enough to be an Avenger?”

“Tell me how you plan to fight a genocidal alien or robot, how about an evil god from outer space with your guns and a jet pack with wings!”

You were hyperventilating at this point and the walls seemed like they were closing in on you. You could see Joaquín’s stiff figure also crying through your tears. None of you spoke a word for bit after your sentence.

“Here take this” you snatched the beautiful ring that adorned your ring finger and shoved it on his chest. He held his hand over your hand that pressed into his chest. “Wait no please…” He begged while wrapping his other hand around your arm and held you in place.

“Don’t leave. I’ll tell Sam I changed my mind! I’ll never put the wings back on! Just please don’t do this!” He yelled out through his heavy sobs.

“That’s our problem Joaquín! This! Your job is so important, not just that, it’s your dream! I can’t hold you back from doing what you love and you can’t hold me back either! People need you, the world needs you! You can’t hold me in front of the world…” and that’s when you snatch away your hand and walk to your shared room with Joaquín.

You grabbed your two suitcases and bag that you had asked your friend to pack for you and made your way to the front door. Joaquín followed you the entire time, begging you to not do this. You just ignored him and grabbed the door handle. As you were twisting the door handle Joaquín speaks for the last time.

“You are my world. How am I supposed to save billions of random people if I can’t save us?”

You turn back and see that his eyes are red and starting to puff.

“Maybe when you finally learn that you’re not indestructible and that you’re human like the rest of us.”

You twisted the door open and walked out, shutting it gently behind you. You could hear Joaquín’s from behind the door and your heart broke at the sound of it.

You didn’t know if you’d ever make up, but you were sure as hell that you would never find a love as pure or strong as Joaquín’s. Maybe you’d reconcile one day, if he doesn’t get killed.

[honeipie]

THE INTERVIEW

katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: katsuki won’t do interviews for anyone. well, anyone that isn’t you.

this is part two of the first hockey boys katsuki post which you can find here

after the interaction at the bar, you and katsuki had been seeing more and more of each other, not only on a professional level, but a personal one as well. in public he'd answer your questions dead last during the press conferences, but you waited each time. knowing that when it was over he wouldn’t leave your side at that bar.

it didn’t take long for the two of you to start dating. you knew you liked him, and he liked you.

the two of you never made your relationship known to the public, due to the small fear you had of it interfering with your job. katsuki never minded, as long as you came home with him at the end of the day he wasn't going to complain.

so five months later here you were, in bed with one of the best hockey players in the league, trying to escape his need to cuddle.

buzz. buzz. buzz.

"get your damn phone will ya?" katsuki mumbled, pressing his eyes shut. you let out a long sigh eyes opening slowly.

"i would if you weren't holding me down like a damn paperweight" he only grumbled loosening his arm around your torso. you couldn’t help but giggle picking up the phone.

“don’t worry my baby. i’ll make it up to you”

“shut up” this made him fully let go and turn his body around. you couldn’t help but fully burst out in laughter at his dramatics before you answered your phone.

“hello?” you rubbed off the sleep that still clouded your eyes.

“y/n, sorry to call you this early but we’re going to need to have a meeting quickly. i hope you don’t mind”

you contained the groan you wanted to let out and opted for a small sigh instead “i’ll be there in an hour” hanging up you turned back to your boyfriend placing your chin in his shoulder.

“i gotta go to work kats”

he grumbled something before turning around to fully face you “this is the one day i don’t gotta go to practice and now they’re callin’ you in? what the hell?”

“i know it sucks, but i’ll be back as soon as possible ‘kay? it’s just a meeting then i should be done” you pulled him in for a kiss which he sleepily returned.

“ugh your breath-“

“shut the fuck up”

even through your teasing he couldn’t help but smirk a little. you got out of the bed opening up his closet. he had opened up a space for you knowing that you might have to get up and go. you picked out something that was comfortable, but still work appropriate. you didn’t plan on staying long anyways.

by the time you exited the closet you were quickly putting on lipstick and looking in the nearest mirror you could find. at this point, katsuki had gotten up and made his way over to you.

“you look nice”

he placed kisses at the crook of your neck, which you were trying not let get to you. cause if you did you would not be getting to work.

“thanks!” you put some earrings in trying not to tilt your head too much where he could have more leverage over you. once they were in you turned around making his head snap back up “i will be back. please remind me cause you know how i could stay there for hours” cupping his cheeks you pulled him in for one last kiss which left a lipstick stain, but you weren’t going to be the one to tell him that.

when you arrived at the station you said your casual hello’s before making your way into one of the conference rooms. luckily, there was already a coffee sitting there waiting for you. ever since you had drawn more attention for the station you’ve been getting some more positive attention.

“hello sir” you greeted your boss with a smile going to sit down across from him. he smiled back at you his teeth practically shining from all the whitening his does.

“there she is! sorry for calling you in on such short notice. i know you probably have errands to attend to" you only shrugged going to take a sip of your coffee "the reason i called you up is because we need something big. we've been getting attention from the players and that's good, but the season is almost over, and we can't just rely on those press conferences anymore. we need something bigger. remember those locker room interviews i was talking about? i was wondering if you could score one with any of the teammates. if you could pull it off, do it with bakugo. he seems to do strangely well with you"

your eyes flit up to meet his. you thought that you could get away with the press conferences for at least the rest of the season. katsuki and you never really delved too dead into work conversation. you'd always hit him with the little 'how was work' and his response never failed, 'y/n you were there'. that was all you would really do. you didn't want him to think that you were with him just to get information out of him, so you never said much about what your boss asked you to do.

"that should be okay with you right? i mean you are our star reporter"

clearing your throat you nodded "i should be able to pull something through. is this all? not to be rude, but i do have some plans for the rest of the day"

he shook his head standing up from his chair "that's all i got for ya" he walked over to give your hand a firm shake "thanks for being so cooperative. shoot me an email when you've got something" with that, he was out of the door.

your keys clanged against the ceramic bowl you made on one of you and katsuki's date nights. he had made one too, you just use it to keep your rings in. katsuki stood in the kitchen already starting prep on some dinner for later. you slipped off your shoes going over to stand next to him.

"how was your meeting?" he asked using a knife to scrape vegetables into a bowl. all you could do was shrug and hop onto the island counter.

"it was okay" you watched as his back muscles flexed along with his movements. katsuki was good on the ice for sure, but in the kitchen? it was like everything he touched was approved by God himself. after he had made your favorite meal after a long day you had never gone back to cooking yourself.

katsuki finished with the last of the vegetables before walking over to you. both hands rested by your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist bringing him closer “hello handsome” you went to lean in but to your surprise he dodged.

he must’ve noticed the offended look that crossed your face “tell me what’s up”

“nothing is up! i just wanted a kiss!”

“don’t lie to me. i just can tell something is wrong. don’t ask how, just tell me so i can help. don’t want you moping around the house bringin’ the mood down”

“weird way of saying you care” your fingers went up to play with some of his hair.

“i do care. that’s why i’m asking”

a small pout formed on your lips as you thought “i don’t want this to ruin what we have. i don’t want you to think im using you or anything, cause i’m not. i love you kat,” if you being upset before didn’t concern him enough this definitely did “my boss is asking me to get a locker room interview with someone on the team-“

“i’ll do it”

it was so quick you could’ve missed it. he didn’t look upset, or even angry. katsuki just shrugged as if it was an every day occurrence. as if he doesn’t brush off every single one on one interview there is. no, you’ve seriously seen him delete the emails before even opening them. fucking spam is what he calls them.

your eyebrows furrowed together at his words “you’re- you’re sure about this?”

“yeah why not. you’re definitely the one doing the interview right? plus if you don’t want it to be with me i’ll force one of the other extras to do it. they fuckin’ love the attention.. was that it?”

“i’ll be doing the interview for sure, and that was it”

he leaned down finally giving you the kiss you wanted along with a small ‘love you’ at the very end.

when he kissed you, there was an unusual feeling on his bottom lip. pulling away you put your thumb over his lip feeling out the bump.

"what the fuck? do you have herpes or some shit?"

katsuki pulled away with an offended expression "no i don't have fuckin' herpes! and if i did, i would've gotten it from your dumbass!"

"well i don't have herpes so where did the herpes bump come from?"

"stop calling it that!"

your stomach was hurting from laughter and katsuki was trying not to give in to your stupid jokes "i got it from that game yesterday. it's starting to swell up a bit" you tilted your head letting your thumb graze over it again.

"babe, you've gotta stop fighting. i don't want to mistake you for having STDs again-"

"is this your weird way of saying you care?"

"i do care"

the two of you stared at each other for a good minute, neither backing down until he let out a huff "fine. can't believe you're doin' this to me" he grumbled going to walk away into the bedroom “come get into some more comfortable clothes. i want to lay down to make up for this morning"

katsuki had a game the next day, so of course you sat right behind the bench where the team sat. it was a close match the whole game. tensions were high between both of the teams, and everyone could feel it. all throughout there was one player on the other team that was really pissing katsuki off, and you could tell from where you were sitting. the way he would skate quickly away from him every time he would get close. the way he would make the whole bench shake every time he sat down in rotations.

there was no physical contact made from either side. not until katsuki scored a goal for his team which must've aggravated the other enough to the point of bodychecking katsuki, hard.

the crowd egged the players actions on with ‘oooohs’ and ‘oh shits!’

now katsuki was livid. you could see him doing a quick turn around to face the player again, but suddenly stopped himself.

katsuki shook his head, and skated away.

the whole crowed murmured in confusion, the player who instigated it was confused. hell, you were even confused.

the day katsuki bakugou refused a fight has finally come.

after the game had finished, and everyone cleared out of the locker room, the station got it set up for the interview. you had taken katsuki into the coach’s office to explain how it was going to go down “so it’s not like a regular locker room interview. it’s going to be like a podcast episode. people eat those up nowadays so this is gonna be good-“

“hm” he was half listening to whatever you were saying. his face was buried in your neck and hands pulled you in by your waist. the blinds were closed and the door was shut, so there was a fifty-fifty chance you could’ve gotten caught, and he was willing to take it.

you decided explaining any more would be useless. all of it going through one ear and out the other. so you moved your hands up the back of his shirt making him shiver slightly “you did good today. i saw your goals”

“thanks baby” he whispered back placing soft kisses along your neck “we can go home after this right?”

“right after, then take a hot bath”

“then let’s get this over with” hesitantly, he pulled away from you going to open the door. you could tell how the game wore him out by how his shoulders sagged slightly, and his hair was a mess. hand going to his shoulder you stopped him “hey, we can do this another day”

he shook his head grabbing one of his baseball caps “nah i’m fine. turn this shit on” nodding you got into you seat. he settled into his but couldn’t help but watched as you fixed your appearance looking into one of the screens nearby. fixing your lipstick because he accidentally smeared it from the after game kiss. the way you straightened out your clothes because of the way he relaxed onto you like a pillow. he loved seeing the evidence of his love all over you, even if nobody knew.

man, he was starting to regret agreeing to keeping this secret.

“are you ready mr. bakugo?” you asked as if you didn’t even know him.

“yeah ‘m ready”

the interview was going smoothly for the most part. you asked him questions and he either gave you one of his famous snarky remarks, or an actual thought out answer. the topic of conversation had turned onto the events of today’s game, and you had questions already lined up in your head.

“so mr. bakugo you had a good game today with you and your teammates pulling in yet another victory. though i’m sure everyone is wondering why you didn’t involve yourself in the fight today. i mean that player was being pretty hostile”

katsuki shrugged pulling the mic away from his mouth a bit “my girl doesn’t like when i fight”

your eyebrow raised at his statement. the team behind the cameras ears perked up at the new information.

“your girl? you- you have a girlfriend?”

his eyes flit up to yours trying to contain his budding smirk “yeah i do. congratulations, you’re the first people to publicly know. other than the team”

“if you don’t mind me asking. how long have you and your girlfriend been together?”

“almost six months”

“so almost half a year. she must have something special if she could tie you down”

both of you were now smiling at each other. it wasn’t shocking that you were smiling, but katsuki? hell must’ve frozen over.

“yeah she’s special as hell, and pretty. might put a ring on her finger one of these days if that’s what she wants” he adjusted the mic once more “people might say that’s quick, but i say when you know you know. why waste time?”

you had choked on your spit causing a coughing fit. katsuki covered his face to hide the fact that he was chuckling at your misfortune. once you pulled yourself together you shook your head “i’m sorry about that. i don’t know what happened”

“don’t worry about it”

“well thank you so much mr. bakugo for doing this interview with us. you’ve been amazing”

he mumbled out a ‘you’re welcome’ before the cameras stopped rolling. you got up quickly making sure the crew had everything they needed before you made your way outside. both you and katsuki had driven your own cars here so you would simply meet him at home.

by the time he had gotten there you had already run the bath and gotten in. you could hear the soft pats of his clothes hitting the floor as he made his way into the bathroom. carefully, he slipped into the tub behind you, muscles instantly relaxing. the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while. just basking in the warmth of the tub.

“you’re good at your job”

“thanks” you looked over your shoulder to see that his head was tilted back. his adam’s apple bobbed a little because of your movements.

“whatcha starin’ at me for?”

“cause your pretty. and i want to know if you meant what you said”

his one eye opened to look over at you “what did i say?”

katsuki knew what he said. he just wanted to be able to hear his words become yours.

“that you wanted to marry me”

he closed his eye again moving his arms to wrap around your body. they pulled you close with ease enveloping you in more warmth.

“i meant every fuckin’ word”

@v4mp3r

@yeehawgiddyup13

@b134ch-m4h-ey3z

@liluvtojineteyam

[bandgie]

Cats Galore | Ep. 3

MASTERLIST | Kink: Anal

🗝 The Other Neighbors downstairs hardly raise concern other than their weird fascinations with cats. You don't mind them playing with yours, but you're learning that things aren't as they seem.

4.6k words

warnings: MDNI18+, fem!reader, f!masturbation (brief), pussy play, fingering, 3some, anal, butt-play, PIV, no protection, cumming inside, creampie, finger sucking (m!), reader called kitty/slut, reader wears cat ears, minho is a bit of a mean dom, reader says she's gonna pee (doesn't), squirting, edging (brief), double penetration, boob sucking

notes: fuck, that's a lot of warnings, sorry. I was supposed to post this days ago but I was partying :( sorry, forgive me. hopefully the length makes up for it

“I almost fell down a well earlier, guys.”

The consistent clicking of their keyboard tells you they’re not listening. You’re staring out the kitchen window, watching the rain pour and the droplets race.

“Uh-huh.”

“I would have died.” Maybe that will catch their attention. Chan and Changbin have been nothing but busy-busy the moment they came home. Late. You had to mop the floors when their muddied shoes walked through the front.

“That’s nice.”

You wrinkle your nose, unsure if you should act upset or cordial. They’ve been home for hours, sitting at the tiny table typing away.

Editing to be exact. 

“So, how far are you in the album?”

“Very.” Chan takes off one side of his headphones. “I think we should be able to make the deadline if we stay up.” 

You try not to groan. Music is their everything. You get that. You’ve known that, but there are so many times you feel like you don’t even come second. If you bat your eyes prettily enough and cutely pout, they’d put it on hold. 

But then they wouldn’t get their work done. The stress they feel now would be nothing compared to scrambling last minute to put something together. 

And it would all be your fault because you don’t know how to stop being so clingy.

“That’s good.” You turn from the window and walk over to them, standing behind Changbin and looking at the DAW. You pretend you know what the different colors and lines mean, nodding and pecking his cheek encouragingly. “Looks good too.”

Changin’s already turning his head, pursing his lips so you could plant a kiss there instead, but Chan reaches over and flicks his forehead. “No. Babe, listen, we love you, but you’re distracting.”

“Distracting?”

“I mean, we won’t be able to do our work.” Chan is careful with his words. “Like, I bet Bin has a fucking boner from just you standing next to him.”

Changbin’s lips turn into an upside-down, sheepish smile, “Shut up.”

“Exactly. I promise you, at the end of the week, we’re all yours.” Chan smiles suddenly. His teeth look wolfish in the cutest way possible. “Was the first night not enough lovin’ for you?”

It was more than enough. You can feel Changbin buzzing with arousal just from the memory. It’s not often that your boys like to play rough, but when they do, they make sure to make it unforgettable.

Your dreamy button-boy helped significantly to make sure your lovin’ was sublime. 

“For now.” You shrug, but you grin knowingly. “I’ll leave you two alone then. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

Changbin purses his lips again when you lean down. This time, Chan doesn’t stop you two from kissing. It’s brief, but Changbin still hums with content in your mouth. Your lips disconnect with a gentle smack and you walk to the other side, doing the same to Chan.

“I’m serious. Go to bed at a reasonable time.” You narrow your eyes. “I don’t wanna deal with a grumpy Bin telling me Chan made him stay up all night.”

Chan presses another chaste kiss. “No promises.”

-

It’s when you want to sleep that it seems impossible. You want to get enough rest. The garden needs to be at least cleaned if you want it to blossom. But the only thing you can do in bed is toss and turn, replaying the events of the day until your mind wanders to Hyunjin.

There’s a small part of you that wants to dream about him again. Even if you have to see his buttons, it would be nothing compared to his cock dragging in your walls. 

He’s big. He has to be. You can remember how it felt against your cunt. The mere warmth from him had your clit throbbing, aching to feel his tip slide against you even if you had just finished in his mouth. 

And the kisses, his kisses. They felt so tender. So warm. You don’t think you’ll be able to recreate the sensation with your fingers, but you slide your hand down your panties anyway. But just when you make it past the dip, finger threading through your coarse hair, you hear the familiar sound. 

Squeak! Squeak!

Are you asleep already? Did so much time pass pretending that you actually did? You don’t know, and you don’t care to find out. The little mouse, just peeking through the crack of your door, is your only worry.

Seems like Hyunjin isn’t the one that didn’t get enough lovin’.

You fling the covers off and rush to the door. The mouse squeaks in panic, scurrying out and down the hallway to the stairs. You know it’s aiming for the little door. You don’t have to question the fact when it leaps over the steps and into the living room. 

Unlike the quiet mouse, your steps are loud, thudding down the stairs and tripping over the carpet. You regain your balance quickly, bumping into a wall and pushing off it for an extra boost into the dimly lit living room.

You don’t even see the mouse anymore, too consumed with prying your fingers through the crevasse and throwing it open. 

Like an old friend, the tunnel beams. It pulsates with life, with happiness, you think. The changing colors are like a beckoning finger that you listen to obediently. The passage feels exactly like it did the other night. Fuzzy, soft, warm, and everything right. 

The lights in the Other living room are just slightly different than last time. A little yellow, a little too pale. It hides the shadow of the couches that seem to glow with life, but you don’t dig too much into the aesthetic. You know there’s a note in the kitchen waiting for you.

This time, it’s not just a note on the table when you walk in, but a kitten headband next to it.

We’re downstairs.

We? You narrow your eyes and cock your head to the side. Who’s we? This isn’t Hyunjin’s handwriting. 

Another line of scribbles reads in a cuter, playful tone.

can’t wait to meet you! pleeasseee wear the kitty ears!!!!! (ㅅ •᷄ ₃•᷅ )

You’d laugh at the drawn emoticon if you weren’t confused. With one hand holding the letter and the other holding the headband, you think. 

Why are you dreaming of this? Who’s waiting for you? Why do they want you to wear a costume? 

It doesn’t matter how many times you ask yourself, those questions will never be answered. Not on this floor at least.

As beautiful as it is outside, you walk down the porch and turn right. There’s an opening with a small staircase leading down, the doorframe lit with pretty lights.

They flash inducingly; on and off in a way that makes it seem like the light is moving. 

They help with your jitters. You know that it won't be Hyunjin behind the door and sure as hell won’t be your boys. Still, you feel some exhilaration when you stop just a foot shy of the door.

It opens before you can knock a third time, revealing two men standing side-by-side. One has brown buttons for eyes, a beautiful complement to his freckled face and blonde hair. He smiles like it’s the easiest thing to do now that you’re here. His lips curve perfectly against his teeth, white and smooth. 

The other’s buttons are a deep burgundy, almost matching his chestnut hair. Only one side of his mouth quirks into a smile that’s closer to a grin. 

The blonde one shrieks with excitement. “Ah! You’re here! Minho, she’s here! Like, here here.”

You laugh, “Yeah. Here here. In the flesh.”

He lights up even more. The flashing bulbs on the doorframe dance on his face. “Yes! Come in. Hyunjin raved about you all day yesterday.” The blonde man opens the door wide enough for you to see the living room blocked by a curtain that he pushes back. It’s massive, adorned with cat sculptures and paintings. Even the couch has a fuzz that seems to resemble fur.

Minho chuckles. “Gosh. He wouldn’t shut up. He falls in love way too easily.”

Their conversation doesn’t click until you’re inside the apartment. You’re too busy deciding to be weirded out or impressed by the amount of cats perched on the wall.

Wait. Did Hyunjin tell them…

“What did he say about me?” You try to sound nonchalant, fingers grazing the soft sofa.

Minho flops on the other side of the couch. “Oh, nothing. Just that he wants to ask for your hand in marriage.” He snickers at his own joke, ignoring the disapproving shake of his friend’s head. 

“All good things, I promise.” The blonde man sits on the opposite side, patting the empty slot between them.

You sit gingerly, far enough that your thighs aren’t touching, but you can feel their bodies radiating warmth. You swear Minho eyes the way your thighs expand when you sit, tearing his buttons away to look at the kitten ears on your head.

“Very good things. He showed us some paintings he finished too, but he said it wasn’t enough to capture your beauty.” Minho smiles at your blush. “I should tell him to paint this too. The cat ears are a good touch.”

“Minho!”

“Felix!” Minho mimics his roommate's tone. “Am I doing something bad?” He looks at you, buttons gleaming with playfulness. “Am I?”

You shake your head. “N-no.”

The way his teeth are revealed is almost predatory. Almost as though he likes the hint of fear in your eyes. “Good. See? Hyunjin said you were a good girl too.” His hands reach behind your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The tips of his fingers barely graze you, but your skin feels on fire.

You know why you’re dreaming of them. Why you keep going through the tunnel. They must know too, but Minho plays with the ears on your head fondly. 

“I can tell you are. Wearing exactly what we asked you to.” He tilts his head. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Felix and I have quite the…liking towards cats.”

You turn to the side, facing the differently posed statutes along the wall. “You don’t say.”

Minho giggles. “With you wearing the ears, well, let’s just say we’re seeing if you’d be a good addition to our collection.”

Felix chuckles beside you, scooting just enough so his leg rubs against yours. 

There’s so much you should be worried about. It’s all too familiar with how interesting Hyunjin was. To the underlying tones, the secretive glances they give each other, to the fact that they have you trapped between them. 

But when one of Felix’s hands goes to your inner thigh and Minho’s goes to your other, your heart drums for a different reason.

“I think we should look at your kitty down here to make sure you’ll fit in perfectly.” Felix’s voice is unbelievably smooth in your ear. His tone sends shivers down your spine and you visibly shake. 

He grins like he knows. “Would that be okay?”

You nod, but your ‘yes’ sounds more like a whimper than an actual voice. It’s easy for them to spread your legs, panties on display being that you don’t sleep with anything more than a shirt and underwear. They knead the softness of your inner thighs, cooing and laughing like they’ve got you right where they want you.

“This kitty listens so well.” Minho’s lips brush against your ear. He’s the first one to move towards your cunt, fingers sliding underneath your panties to pull it to the side.

“Ooo,” his breath gives you goosebumps. “And it’s a pretty one too.”

Your pussy feels cold now that it’s exposed. Felix pulls on your thigh so your pussy spread just slightly. He groans, deep and low. He’s quick to spread his fingers into a ‘v’ shape around your lips. 

Minho’s thumb grazes your flesh. It’s such a light touch, barely there if you hadn’t been paying close attention. The sensation makes you jolt off the couch just slightly, choking on a gasp. 

“Sensitive little thing, huh?” Miho smiles against your ear. “Barely even touching you.” His index finger trails along your slit, soon finding your clit. 

“Bet if I touch you here, you’ll get wet real fast.”

Felix does well in keeping your cunt spread while Minho flicks the pad of his finger against you. It takes everything in you not to buck off the couch again. To stop your pussy from clenching every time Minho presses down on your nub.

But just like he said, you can feel your slick sliding down your ass. The wetness must soil the plush couch underneath, but the men don’t seem to mind in the slightest. Instead, you feel Felix’s fingers mingle in the mix.

His digits are so much different from Minho’s. They’re small and much rougher, but the different textures make you find purchase on their thighs and squeeze. 

Felix giggles. “You were right, hyung. She did get wet.”

Even if it weren’t for the obvious sounds resonating in the room, it would be your moans and whines that gave away your arousal. 

“Of course I was right. Hyunjin told me all about you.” The way he says it, like a threat, it should scare you. But his ominous tone makes your eyes roll and toes curl instead.

“Told me you tasted good. He almost came his pants when his tongue was on you.”

Minho stops flicking your clit to maneuver lower. His soft fingers slide until they catch your entrance, prodding and rubbing before dipping in. 

You gasp when he enters you. You didn’t realize how desperate your cunt was to clench on something until it was pulsing around his digit. Your hips begin to rock immediately, trying to find a rhythm with his little finger wiggling inside you.

“F-fuck.” You lean on Felix’s shoulder. “Please.”

Even with your squelching and pleading, Minho slides out. His sadistic smile stays on his lips when you whine, tears in your eyes from an orgasm being pulled away. 

He raises his hand high enough for you three to see it glisten in the light. 

The slick is almost mesmerizing, their buttons locked on the sight. Minho brings the hand closer and you open with your mouth without being told to. 

“I wanna know if he was telling the truth about this too.” But instead of putting his finger on your tongue, he reaches over to Felix. 

His pink tongue is already waiting, a subtle blush on his face that makes his freckles stick out. You watch as Minho’s finger plays with his tongue, running over the smoothness of his teeth and the plushness of his lips.

Felix moans at your taste, hollowing his cheeks to suck diligently. His fingers on your cunt slow in concentration, but you’re too aroused to notice.

A string of spit and slick connects from Felix’s tongue to Minho’s finger when he pulls away. It stretches and breaks easily, causing Felix to lick his chin where it landed. 

His buttons are full of hunger. “Yeah, Min. He was telling the truth.”

Minho laughs with delight. His wet finger goes back to your cunt, rubbing harshly and quickly. 

The instant pleasure makes you mewl, drooly lips finding Felix’s is a spit-covered kiss.  You can taste yourself on him. His soft mouth makes the tangy, metallic taste sweet, tongues diving into each other’s throats.

Felix pulls away enough to speak, but your kisses attack the corners of his lips and throat as he says, “Do you wanna taste, hyung?”

Minho hums in thought, the pads of his fingers swirling over your clit torturously. Your kisses on Felix’s skin slow. You can still taste your arousal on your tongue, Minho won’t have any problem getting a taste if he kisses you now. But when his fingers dip past your hole to your rim, you know what he wants instead.

“I think I wanna play with something else.” Minho uses his free hand to pull you by your hair gently, making you face him. “How many fingers can you fit in here, kitty?”

He presses, harder and harder until the tip of his finger makes its way inside your ass. Your mouth drops at the feeling, unsure if it feels good because it’s vulnerable or because he’s touching something you know is only used for special occasions.

Minho forces them deeper, making you squeal. “How many?”

“I-I don’t know! Three? F-four?” Changbin’s cock is roughly that wide. You recall having him and Chan trying to fit both their cock in the same hole, but there wasn’t enough lube to accommodate their size. 

He moans, soft and pretty. His finger turns into two, and rather than just the tip, you feel him sink to the knuckle. All the while Felix makes sure to play with your pussy to keep your juices flowing to your ass. 

“You dirty slut. You’re perfect.” Minho doesn’t hesitate in fucking his fingers into you. They curl and rub as if it was your pussy, but with how full you are, it feels like it is. 

“Shit. Good fucking ass. You’ve taken a cock in there, haven't you?”

You nod, unable to speak. Your throat can’t do anything but moan. The sounds get even louder when Minho’s fingers slip out, opting to stand and untie his sweats. You only get a second to see his bulge before it springs out, flushed and leaking. He takes his place in front of you, holding you by the knees. 

Minho has a full view of your gaping ass, of Felix’s relentless fingers playing with your clit. You’d be shy in any other scenario, but with the taste of you still lingering on your tongue and the need in your stomach, it’s nonexistent. 

You drool when you see him stroke himself, the throbbing of his cock intensifying. You spread your legs more and let him guide his tip to your ass, holding your breath for the breach.

“You’ve never taken a dick like mine, baby. I’ll make you cum in seconds.”

Felix snorts beside you, but it sounds muffled with the blood rushing to your ears. His cock is warm entering you. Everything feels so much intensified when your ass is used. You can feel every curve and every vein inside. 

His rounded head slips in with ease, especially when Felix smears your dripping arousal down to Minho’s remaining shaft and your rim.

You choke on a sob when his pelvis is flush against you.

“Fuck yes.” Minho bares throat. His head falls back, red neck on display. “Knew you’d take it all.” Even with no eyes, his buttons seem crazed. That burgundy color turning redder by the second.

His pace is slow, still adjusting to how your walls squeeze unbelievably tight and warm. It’s easy to confuse the slick from your pussy coming from your ass instead, but it's hard not to ooze arousal with Felix rubbing you.

Your clit feels on fire. Even with nothing in your cunt, it feels like you’re stuffed beyond full. It’s puffy, swollen, and wet. Felix doesn’t stop rubbing for a second even when you let out a pleasurable scream when Minho picks up his pace.

“Oh my god.” You’re staring at the mess between your legs. “Ohmygod, ohmygod. Fuck! I’m gonna pee. Waitwaitwait.” 

You know it’s not piss, but it’s been so long since you squirted that you nearly forgot you could. The warmth in your stomach builds too fast, too overwhelming. Tipping over the edge never felt so close, yet so far. There’s nothing for your pussy to clench on. Felix’s fingers are moving too fast for your clit to throb and Minho’s cock is bruising into you at a pace that isn’t slow or quick enough.

You forgot how dreadfully good it feels to never come down from your high. To be stuck at the peak because they simply don’t care.

Chan and Changbin always made sure to have you cum over and over, but having your body spam from the lack thereof is a feeling you never want to forget again.

“Yeah?” Minho laughs. “Looks like kitty needs a little more training, huh, Felix?”

Felix yanks your shirt up, exposing your tits and making you bite the material. Saliva immediately begins to pool in the cotton, but then men are too distracted by your tits to care. 

Felix leans into your chest. “Try holding it in, yeah? Minho can be stern when he wants to be.” 

You feel his teeth clamp down on your nipple. How they think you can stop yourself from soiling the couch is laughable. Felix tugs on the peak of your breast and rubs your clit all while Minho pistons his cock in and out of your ass. 

You squirt within seconds. 

Since nothing is blocking your cunt, your arousal flows out freely. Felix’s digits only make your juices fly farther, splattering on Minho’s chest and your thighs. 

There’s a moment where you’re gasping so hard your head spins. All you can hear are the moans tumbling from your stuffed mouth and Minho’s psychotic laughter. Felix tries to help the fountain between your legs by slowing down, but his hyung doesn’t slow his thrusts at all.

“Bad fucking kitty! Now I have to cum in your ass.” His buttons lock on Felix’s. “Did I tell you to stop?”

The tiny fingers resume their harsh pace, but Felix pouts. “You’re gonna tire her out. My cock hurts too, ya know?”

Sanity glints in Minho’s buttons. It’s as if your ass was too good, making him completely forget about his roommates' needs.

He pulls out without hesitation. You groan when it slips from you, feeling like you can finally breathe. 

“Lixie. I’m such a bad hyung.” It’s the first time his voice is soft. Caring. “You want her ass?”

Felix’s fingers go to your hole, your cunt. You let out a drawled moan when his fingers wiggle their way inside. It feels so good to have your pussy filled right after squirting.

“I just want her pussy. You can still have her ass. I know that’s your favorite.”

The roommates share a laugh, talking about you like you’re nothing but a toy. All you can do is groan when they change your position. Your back aches from your legs being in the air for so long, but the pain subsides when they plant you on all fours on the couch, hovering over Felix with Minho behind you.

Felix’s cock is a little thing, so similar to Changbin’s. They don’t share the same thickness in the slightest, but you’re thankful for Felix’s size when they enter you at the same time.

Had he been any bigger, you don’t doubt that you would’ve split. The stretch is porno worthy. Your walls open easily for both of them, their cocks molding their shape inside you. Their pace is so different. Felix is getting used to the feel of your cunt for the first time whereas Minho is chasing his high. 

The thrusts from behind make you bounce on Felix’s dick. Your breasts jiggle in his face so tempting that it doesn’t take long for him to pop a nipple in his mouth.

Like before, his bites and licks encourage you to rock between them. 

Minho has a firm grip on your ass, spreading your cheeks to see his cock bury itself between them. “Your ass is so wet. Feels just like a pussy.” He stills, hips flush against you. He groans when you whimper. “Squeezes just like one too.”

This time, you know you’ll be able to cum properly. The orgasm builds in your stomach until it coils, clenching on the two cocks in warning. 

“Sh-shit.” Felix curses with your breast in his mouth. “I’mma cum already.”

“Mhm.” He grunts, fucking you earnestly. “Good set of holes.”

You choose to take that as a compliment. Your walls are gripping them so tight that it feels as though they’re fucking you in the same place. But when your chest burns and the warmth in your belly finally uncoils, you know it’s Felix’s cock you cum on.

Even though your body freezes to ooze with cream, Minho doesn’t stop. Not even as Felix howls with pleasure or you plead with overstimulation, his cock bullies into your ass until you flood with their seed.

You can’t tell whose cum is filling from where. It feels everywhere, outside and inside. You collapse on Felix’s chest, panting with exhaustion. Minho thrusts a few more times for good measure before pulling out, moaning in the process. 

Felix follows soon after, his softening cock between your and his pelvis’. The warm strings of cum pour from your holes and you feel Minho play with it. Whether or not he shoves it back into your gaping ass or cunt, you can’t tell. 

It all feels the same.

Ding. Ding.

You three jump at the sound of the doorbell. Felix and Minho share a confused look, the older grabbing his sweats and putting his legs through the pant holes. It seems that their visitor requires both of them, being that Felix slips from under you and pecks your forehead.

You suppose this is your cue to wake up.

But as they tuck their cocks away and close the curtains to the living room, you don’t wake.

Weird. 

You’re about to begin counting sheep when something black moves in the corner of your eye. It takes a few seconds for your hazy vision to focus on a cat, the only one moving sly and quickly. 

Unlike the other sculpted cats with buttons for eyes on the walls, this one has blue, normal eyes. Just like the one from the woods. 

“Hmm,” your voice is groggy. “Hannie’s got a cat like you back at home. You must be the Other cat.”

That cat narrows its eyes at you, nose up turning into a sneer. “No. I’m not the other anything. I’m me.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Your eyelids flutter in shock, but your mind is so fuzzy that you can’t be too surprised.

You’re still sleeping after all.

“I see you don’t have buttons for eyes, but if you’re the real cat, how can you speak?”

“Too many questions and not enough time,” his whiskers twitch. “They won’t be distracted for long. They don’t like me very much.”

You snort, “I find that hard to believe. They said they like cats.”

“They like things that listen. They want a pet. And I’m hardly one to behave.”

Talking takes a lot of effort. You can feel your eyelids drooping and your limbs relaxing on the couch, but you manage to peek at the kitty. “I don’t think I’d mind being their little pet every now and then.”

The cat does not laugh with you. Instead, he leaps from the shelves on the wall and quietly lands on the couch, mere inches from your tired face. 

“You probably think this world is a dream come true. But you’re wrong. If you come back here again, we won’t let you leave.”

We. A spark of anxiety lights in your chest. His piercing eyes, the only ones here besides yours, are full of truth. Something about his gaze and mannerisms screams human. “Are you really a cat?”

“I am as much as a cat as this is a dream.” His tail tickles your nose just enough to keep you awake for a few seconds. “Listen to me and do not go through the door again. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave the Pink Palace and not look back.”

Like any normal cat, he glares at you one last time. “Or don’t. Afterall, I’m just a stupid cat. Aren’t I?”

[luckymousey]

Defending Trey Clover, an essay

I just fucking saw a post shit-talking about Trey and I'm so fucking angry that instead of shit-talking them back in my mind I'm going to write an essay about how I see Trey and why he's not a bad character.

I haven’t seen his dream, so there might be some mistakes here, and yes, there might be some slight spoilers for those who haven't seen his dream like me

⚠️English is not my first language⚠️

Trey Clover

We all know who he’s.

He’s like the older brother/mother of Heartslabyul.

The one who takes care of the young ones.

The one who tries to blend in with the crowd.

And also one of the most misunderstood and hated characters in all the fandom.

Like, all the hate directed to him is just because of the fact that he didn’t do anything to help Riddle when his mom caught them eating tarts.

All the haters don’t understand one single thing.

Trey was a kid.

He was just a kid, he didn’t know the real consequences of Riddle sneaking out, he just wanted to have some fun, like any child wants to, he had no real power against Mrs. Rosehearts, even if he shouted, even if he fought for Riddle, it would’ve been of no use, even more, I’m sure Riddle would have been punished in a worse way if Trey stood up for him, AND, his family and him had to endure a five hours yelling of Mrs. Rosehearts; Trey was behind his parents, looking how the tears flooded down his friend’s cheek, how Riddle’s mother was shouting and how his parents were being yelled at by something that wasn’t even bad, god damnit, he was severely affected by everything that happened that day.

They even mention in his dream (I read this as a spoiler, I’m not sure) that his family laugh at what happened that day, but I don't think it's a: “it wasn’t bad at all, just a slight, small scare” laughing, but a “I can’t cry about it, so I can only laugh” laughing (like, everytime the teacher hands out our exams, a lot of my classmates say this)

And Riddle’s mom is someone pretty famous.

Trey once said that they were curious about the kid who lived in the biggest house in the neighborhood, so that means she’s also pretty rich.

In other words, she is powerful.

(Power means the money and fame, but it has another meaning, which I’ll be talking about later)

There was nothing a family of bakers could do at that moment, even if they were kind of famous, much less a 10 year old kid.

And think about how he felt when he realized Riddle wouldn’t be leaving his house for a long time.

Think about how he felt when he received his NRC admission letter (or whatever the crow sends them), thinking about how he probably won’t be seeing Riddle, no matter how much he hoped for it, now that he was going to study somewhere else.

Think about how excited he was about Riddle’s admission in his same school only to be greeted by the reflection of the woman who shouted for 5 hours straight, in his parents’ bakery, some years ago.

Trey wasn’t and isn’t a bad friend, he was a ten year old child and in the Heartslabyul Arc he was an eighteen year old who was still traumatized, no matter how he tried to hide it, he’s not fine, he’s not ok, he’s not alright. He’s not as extremely traumatized as Riddle, who suffered years of abuse from his mom first hand, but he’s still bothered by what happened.

Unlike a lot of people say, Trey did not encourage Riddle to become a tyrant, he did not try to mold him into one, and he did not accept Riddle’s new way of being.

He just didn’t know what to do.

As I said before, he was excited to see Riddle again, he really was, Cater said Trey couldn’t stop talking about Riddle to everyone, so the fact that Riddle had a 360º change (a change that resembled him a lot like his mother), kind of scared him, because that Riddle wasn’t his friend, he wasn’t the Riddle he meet when they were kids, he wasn’t the Riddle who laughed, played and spent his time with.

We could say Trey was paralyzed for one whole year and some months because he was still trying to find a way to digest all the new information he received.

It would be something similar to living but not living at the same time.

He was studying, baking cake as always, taking care of his peers, you know, being his usual self; but deep inside, he was processing everything, he was trying to understand Riddle.

Honestly, I even imagine Trey broke down into tears, in front of his family, when he went back home for the winter holidays in his second year.

I am sure he was affected by how much Riddle changed in all the time they didn’t see each other.

Now, even if he was paralyzed, why couldn’t he try to stop Riddle?

Because Riddle became just like his mom, if someone said something he didn’t like, he would get beheaded, and that only makes Trey think back of Riddle’s mom, because it’s the same situation.

He had no power against him.

And yes, yes, he can overwrite Riddle’s UM, but…would that change Riddle?

Of course not.

And that's what I was referring to when I said he had no power against his mother, it’s not only about magic, money and fame, but also the fact that neither of the two Rosehearts would change their way of thinking so easily, they would be constantly: “I’m right and that’s final” (Riddle’s way of thinking was more like: “my mother is always right, so if she says it’s like this, then it’s like this”)

Because of that, Trey started thinking: ”I can’t change him, so the only thing I can do to not make anyone suffer anymore is to try to please and calm him down”

There was no way Trey would’ve been able to stop Riddle with that thought in mind, so Trey in reality is not a ‘bad’ or an ‘useless’ character, he is the type of person who needed a little push to realize that it was better to try than not trying at all. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So, yeah, this is my essay, nothing more, and I hope that those haters finally understand Trey’s whole design and purpose in the history

(Also, a lot of people also say that his dream is dumb and everything, and, again, I’ve not seen his dream, it has not been translated and I sadly don’t have the game, but I know that he’s the type of person who likes to bake sweets and offers them to comfort people, so in reality, I don’t think his dream is dumb, I think that is the way he sees people can be happy, you know, like: “here, it won’t immediately solve your problems, but I’m sure one slice won’t hurt” type of thought (like what happened in one of Vil’s cards, I think it was Vil’s), he just wants to be in a place where everyone can be happy one way or another, and that ended up in them being turned into meatballs, because he believes that sweets always sweeten life (yes, I made pun on that))

[qwertysquirti]

Sleepy Morning

☁︎synopsis: Xavier wants you to stay in bed for a litttleeee longer

☁︎content: less than 1k words (super short drabble), mdni, gn!reader, fluff, clingy xavier 🎉

☁︎an: haloo, im not sick anymore, thinking about domestic mornings with xavier. might make an nsfw version of this hehe.. also ill try to post more frequently (and at normal hours) but im being worked to death (っ´Ι`)っ

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡

The sunlight seeps through the blinds of your apartment, usually this would be a welcoming sight to most people when they wake up. For you however, it just means having to deal with the hassle of trying to get up and go to work with a 6’1(185cm) man latched onto you.

At first, you try to escape with as little movement as possible. Your arms are bound by his and his leg is thrown over yours so you’re not exactly in the best position.  He’s like your own personal blanket… You try to squirm out of his hold which proves futile. Finally, you decide going to work is more important than getting into a morning squabble with Xavier and you force your arms out of his hold. 

“Hmm? Where do you think you’re going?” He mumbles, still half-asleep. He lets your arms stay free and opts to wrap his arms around your waist instead. At least he takes his leg off of you, you're just a smidge closer of getting out of this entanglement.

“To work! You know, at the Hunter’s association? They kind of need me.” Your words fall on deaf ears as Xavier just holds you tighter to his chest in response! 

“You’re not the only hunter they have…” He mutters into your neck.

“Yeah, but still! You’re a hunter too, you should understand!” You wiggle in his hold to no avail; he’s not letting up.

“Not really.” He shakes his head. Xavier tries to hide his clinginess, but it really shows in the morning. “What do you want for breakfast?” He loosens his grip on your waist, just enough for you to not be able to run away. You turn in his arms to face him. You pout at him but all he does is give you a peck on the forehead.

“You’re impossible. I guess I’ll stay for the morning, but I still have to go to work today!” You poke his forehead impishly. He smiles at that. 

“That’s all I ask.”  He gives you a lopsided grin.

“You weren’t asking, you were communicating through smothering me.” You frown, unseriously.

“Would you like me to stop?” He questions.

“No…I like clingy Xavier.” You cup his face and give him a soft kiss on the lips. 

“He likes you too.” He whispers into your lips. You can tell his sleepiness still hasn’t worn off, he’s using his little energy to keep you with him.

“When you said breakfast…Do you mean ordering or?” You run your fingers through his hair and massage his scalp.

“I could make breakfast.” He yawns. You shudder, suddenly a wave of flashbacks of Xavier's less than stellar cooking hit you.

“Um. Let’s make it together when you get up, okay?” You pat his head, tenderly. 

“Mkay. When we get up.” He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and places warm kisses there. 

“Yeah, yeah when we get up, my sleepy boy.” You giggle and mold your body even closer to his. The Hunter's Association won’t miss you for a few more hours, right? He needs you!

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡

[bunsreverie]

Bello!! I wrote something for my sister so I thought I’d post it. Zhou Hong enjoyers this is for you

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Zhou Hong had no idea what time it was at this point- 2AM? 3? He rolled his eyes at nothing, and stared down at the stacks of paper that lie spread out on the desk in front of him. As per usual, Zhou Hong only lets out a huff and begins writing and scribbling at the papers, swiftly turning page after page. The workload seemed endless, and just when he’d think that he was almost done, it was as if more and more paperwork would magically appear.

After another hour, only about a fourth of his work is done. Although he was far past done with his required workload, he insisted on getting it all done in one night. Zhou Hong knew he had a long night ahead of him, and he’d anticipate not stopping until he was finished. What he didn’t anticipate however, was a knock at his office door. The Esper Union was normally empty and silent at this time of night, and so he had no idea who it possibly be- the noise had startled him back to his senses and roused him from his half asleep state. “Come in-“ he spoke up, and the door swung open, with you, his favorite coworker and lover standing in the doorway. His exhausted face slightly morphed into a half smile upon seeing you, but he’d frowned again when you began speaking.

“Zhou Hong! What the hell are you doing up this late? What have I told you about working overtime?” You scolded, glaring down at him. You were rather upset with him for overworking himself like this, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity as well to see him in this state. You scanned over him, taking in his dark eye bags and heavy eyelids. “Look at you, you’re hardly even awake. Are you even comprehending what you’re writing?” You questioned, slightly agitated. Instead of getting too defensive, his demeanor changed to that of defeat. As much as Zhou Hong hated being told he was wrong, he couldn’t deny that you were right- he’d felt guilty every time you scolded him for his habitual overachieving tendencies.

“It’s fine-“ He stated, but you’d cut him off. “Do you even know what time it is right now?” “Does it matter? Won’t you let me finish this up, please?” Zhou Hong asks, and yawns. The smell of strong coffee wafts in the air of his office. You sighed and set your bag down, pulling out a chair to sit next to him. You peered down at the heaping pile of paperwork, wondering how in god’s name he planned on getting this done. “You know, I can just take you home and I can stay over, I can make sure you get some sleep.”

Zhou Hong hesitated. He wasn’t even sure if he should accept or ask you to go home. “No thank you- you ought to get yourself to bed, (Y/N).” This just made you even more concerned. You watched him as he turned his attention back to his work and begin writing. “I could say the same for you. You’ve got to get to bed. You’re hardly even awake, how can you expect the quality of your work to be proficient if you’re half asleep?” Zhou Hong stopped writing momentarily and looked at you. He was flattered by your concern, and something he hated more than neglecting his work was saying no to you.

“If I don’t get this done, I won’t be able to sleep anyways. (Y/N), I appreciate your concern, but I am completely fi-“ “No you’re not.” You grabbed at Zhou Hong’s arm, gesturing for him to stand up. He wanted to go with you desperately, but his mind was telling him not to. “The stress of your work is getting to you, I can tell. Won’t you come with me and let’s go to sleep, please?” You pleaded, and your grip on his arm traveled down to his hand, brushing over his knuckles. The gesture finally broke him, and he grinned lazily, patting you lightly on the head. Something he enjoyed doing, considering the height difference between the two of you. He let out a sigh of defeat. “Alright— fine, fine. I’ll take a break for the day, just for you.” You smiled, glad that he finally relented.

Zhou Hong stands from his desk, stretching and yawing a second time. You watch his expression of exhaustion. The sight made you yawn as well- His weariness was contagious. The both of you chuckle. Seeing his mood lighten a bit made you feel a lot better. “You’re tired too, huh? Come on. I’ll take us home.” Zhou Hong walks alongside you, and the both of you get in his car to get home- you’d insist on driving of course, as he was obviously not fit to be behind the wheel.

Half an hour passes, and the both of you arrive at Zhou Hong’s apartment. It was small and slightly cluttered with his work, but you didn’t mind. You’d crashed here plenty of nights where he was working overtime, and this wasn’t near the first time you’d had to drag him home from work to get some rest. Zhou Hong hadn’t even bothered to change his clothes, nor shower, and instead he instantly sunk bonelessly into the plush mattress. You quickly joined him, and he hooked an arm around you and sighed.

His body went limp- there was hardly a point in making pillow talk, because you knew he was already falling asleep. “Goodnight, Zhou Hong.” You brushed a stray hair out of his face, and the smallest smile appeared on his face. He murmured, “Love you, (Y/N). Thanks for taking me home. But you’re making breakfast when we wake up, just so you know.” You laughed softly, and closed your eyes sleepily. “That’s fine. Just go to sleep, and for the love of god stop staying up so late. I thought you were going to pass out.”

Zhou Hong doesn’t say anything and simply nods in acknowledgment, and pulls a blanket over you and then himself. You didn’t mind having to force him to stop working so late and drive him home at 3 in the morning, if it meant sharing moments like this with him. He’d worry about work later, because he’d rather spend his time with you than spend his time working any day.

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part One)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Although I’ve had tumblr for a bit I’m not really used to posting stuff so sorry if I don’t format everything well. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️) also pls excuse my grammar.

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. The beginning takes place when Jason is still Robin but he’s no longer apart of the titans. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad)

Part One: Back To The Tower

“Babe? Babe!” You opened your eyes at the sound of Jason’s voice. His green eyes normally looked at you with gentleness but currently they were alarmed. Scared and scary are two things Jason normally does a good job at keeping separate, but when someone threatens his whole world the two merge to create someone dangerous to everyone, including himself.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” You asked.

“We’ve got to go, Dick called… he thinks joker is after me for some reason…I’ll explain more on our way to the tower.” Jason quickly grabbed the go bags you two had made in case something like this were to happen. He used to think having go bags was you two being paranoid but you always knew dating a vigilante would have its ups and downs.

You knew he was serious when he walked straight past his bike and headed to your car instead “Jason, slow down,” you said as he swerved around cars. He knew you hated speeding and he so he never dared do it, also because he liked not dying in a car crash.

“I’m sorry, so you know how joker has been leaving notes around Gotham?” He asks as he drives a bit slower.

“Yeah why?” You answer quickly.

“Dick called me two hours ago and said they think they’re threatens to Robin, threats to me.”

“Shit, what does joker even want with you?”

“I have no idea maybe I’m a pawn in some game he’s got going with Bruce or Dick or the titans or maybe he’s just decided I’m the next victim in his reign of fucking torment,” Jason’s voice shook slightly. You could tell he was trying to keep it together while driving; trying to keep it together infront of you. You two had been through so much together: he’d been the one you turned to when you left home, you two had been apart of titans together, he’d rescued you from poison ivy once, you talked him off the roof of the tower. You two knew each other better than you knew yourselves. Even after everything he still had a hard time voicing his emotions and honestly you did too.

“Why’d you change the fucking password asshole,” Jason said to Dick through the security camera at titans tower.

“More importantly why’d he change it and not tell us?” You said. Jason’s arm was around you, his leather jacket was a familiar feeling against your skin.

The tower brought back many memories for both you and Jason. You remembered painting your nails with Rachel while Gar and Jason tried not to burn down the kitchen. Late nights when you’d find Kori or Donna and ask for their advice when you first noticed yourself falling for Jason. They thought you were crazy of course but it all worked out, so far anyway. You remembered the first time you’d been to the tower when Dick took you in. Dick introduced you to the titans but it was Jason, who you only knew as Robin at the time, who saved your life and called Dick. Another memory you unfortunately recalled was the time after you guys got Jason back from Deathstroke. You hadn’t known pain till you saw the way he winced at the slightest touch or loud noise. Then there was his fall…your mind refocused when you saw Dick.

“Hey lovebirds,” he said with a grin.

“So what do these messages say exactly,” you said.

“Always so serious,” Dick says. You simply glare at him and he stops messing around. “Right so over the past few days there have been notes around Gotham in seemingly random places, each one is just some nonsense about circuses and birds so naturally it’s about Robin. They talk about the flying boy and encounters him and I have had he then goes on to talk about me becoming nightwing. The rest is disturbing stuff about him “wanting to pick off the feathers of the new little bird to reveal the horror inside”,”.

“Right…so seemingly random places?” Jason says.

“Yeah so, the first was found spraypainted on the stage of a highschool in Gotham, the next was spray painted on a random wall in an alley and the third was on the door of this bar…” Dick said.

“Shit,” Jason said.

“The highschool and the alley,” you said softly to Jason.

“And the bar… it’s the one my uncle took me to,”

“Someone wanna explain the significance to me,” Dick said.

“They’re places from my past,” Jason said. “The highschool I lived in, the alley I boosted the Batmobile in and the bar my uncle took me to.” You all simply stared at eachother waiting for someone to break the silence when Rachel, Gar and Kori came rushing in.

“Oh my God what are you doing here?” Rachel asked pulling you in for a hug.

“Wish I could say just to see you,” you say.

“Hey man what’s the special occasion?” Gar asks Jason.

“Unfortunately the occasion is another psycho trying to kill me,” Jason replied.

“Wait is that true? Dick is this about the joker?” Rachel asks. Dick looks at Jason who nods.

“Yes, we think joker knows Jason is the new Robin and is threatening him,” Dick says.

“No offense but isn’t this more Batman’s territory?” Kori says.

“Normally yes but he’s off doing Justice League bullshit,” Dick says.

Everyone gets comfortable and Dick explains what we know.

“So we know the notes reference Dick, Bruce and Jason but I think there’s a fourth person here,” Kori says.

“Is joker just referencing himself?” Gar says.

“I don’t think so cause…” Jason stops himself.

“Cause what?” You ask him. He doesn’t answer.

“Jason what is it what’d you find” Dick asks. Jason simply gets up and starts to walk away. Naturally you get up and begin walking after him.

Dick grabs your arm, you glare at him and he lets go, “hey let me go see what’s up just keep picking apart the notes with the others.” It was the Dick you knew, loved, and were annoyed by. The camp counselor anything is possible with teamwork Dick Grayson, the version of him which would soon have to step aside.

“Jason!” Dick says when he finds Jason in his old room which looks exactly the same. Jason doesn’t reply he simply grabs a bag and starts packing. “Going somewhere?” Dick says. Jason still doesn’t reply. “Hey, what the fuck!”

“You aren’t stupid Dick you read the fucking note,” Jason says.

“Maybe I am stupid cause I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jokers not threatening me, he’s challenging me…telling me to meet him. And he’s threatening y/n saying what he’ll do if I don’t go find him.” Jason says.

“Shit,” Dick says. “Okay but all you’re going to accomplish by going by yourself is pissing me off, getting your shit rocked by joker, pissing Bruce off, and scaring your girlfriend to death all of which I’m gonna have to fix so could you not be impulsive for once!”

“You don’t think she’s already scared!” Jason says.

“Yeah I do but I think you’ll make it worse if you leave her here,”

“She’d be safer here far away from Gotham and far away from me,” Jason says.

“Hey dipshits,” Kori says as she turns the corner. “Yeah I can read too,” she also seemed to have figured out the note “So why don’t you I don’t know, include her in the conversation about what to do about the threats that are against her?”

The three of them return to see you, Gar and Rachel sitting in silence, it was clear you guys had also figured out the full message. Jason doesn’t get a chance to even fully enter the room before you get up and pull him back into his old room.

“What were you thinking not telling me?” You say.

“You didn’t sign up for this shit,” Jason says.

“I did, and I don’t just mean with you I joined titans before I even knew your name.”

Jason hesitates before saying, “you’re right, I’m sorry”

“Apology accepted so what the hell are we gonna do,” you say slipping out of your serious tone.

“First question, do you wanna go out there and work with everyone or just keep this between us,” Jason says.

“What do you wanna do?” You asked. It was clear you wanted to include the titans in the plan. You knew Jason has a complicated past with everyone in the other room but you also knew despite his own feelings he’d do whatever would keep you the safest. He hugs you softly, one last act of humanity before completely focusing on being Robin. You and Jason were fairly new to the world of having a secret identity. You both tried to keep the two personas completely separate but at the end of the day the person under the mask always has the final say when hard decisions need to be made.

The plan everyone agreed on was simple. You’d stay at the tower, with Gar and Rachel far away from Gotham and the joker. Tomorrow morning Jason, Dick and Kori would drive to Gotham and work with Barbra to catch joker. If only that were actually how it went.

You’d fallen asleep in your old room with Jason by your side, around three am you woke up and he was no where to be found. “Jason?” You said as you looked around the room. The light was already on so you could see perfectly that he was gone. Jason must’ve turned the light on when he left, he knows you hate being in the dark alone after what you went through with Poison Ivy. “Dick!” You yelled as you ran down the hall to Dick’s room. To your surprise Dick was wide awake busy on his computer.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Dick said concerned.

“Jason’s gone.” You said.

“Fucking idiot,” Dick mumbled under his breath. He began typing quickly on his computer. “He got rid of his tracker didn’t he?”

“He cut it out ages ago,” you said frantically. Jason had vanished but both you and Dick knew exactly where he was going; he was going to face Joker alone in Gotham.

Please like if you enjoyed the fic I need to know people like it otherwise I’ll stop posting new parts (I have a whole storyline idea and backstory so like if you want to see more)🩷

Here’s my Masterlist so you can read the other parts.

Masterlist

[lily-fics-11]

Good Luck, Babe! Part 1 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

Good Luck, Babe!

Part 1 (Part 2 here)

(Inspired by Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan)

@dynsdiary made a post about Ellie x closet!reader Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan and I couldn’t go to sleep without writing it, so this is not super well edited

Word count: 1.2k 

CW: Angst, profanities, allusions to sex, internalized homophobia, drinking, not well edited

After spending another night with Ellie you slip out of her bed while she’s still asleep, around sunrise, like you always do.

The feelings you have for Ellie Williams are undeniably strong, but you won’t let yourself take things further than your sexually explicit kind of love affair. You are straight. “I just needed a little lovin’,” you reassure yourself every time she has you moaning her name.

The feelings you have for Ellie Williams are confusing. Undeniably strong, but you won’t let yourself take things further than your sexually explicit kind of love affair. You are straight. “I just needed a little lovin’,” you reassure yourself every time she has you moaning her name.

*****

Waiting for your drink at the bar, a mere 12 hours later, you feel an arm slip around your waist. Your head snaps around to see Ellie’s mischievous grin emerald eyes. You push her away from you and hiss “not here Ellie, not in front of these people, not in front of anyone.”

Ellie looks heartbroken, running her hand through her auburn hair and averting her eyes. “You know I cry when you leave without saying goodbye. It’s not fair.” She whispers in distress. That rips your heart in two. A vulnerable Ellie is an extremely rare occurrence. Ellie deserves so much better than this but you are too selfish to let her go. “Can we please talk about this?” She begs.

“Fine, but not right now.” You promise her and she looks relieved. You instruct her to find you before she leaves and she bites back a smile before disappearing into the crowd. Thoughts of Ellie consume you for the rest of the night. The loud music isn’t enough to drown it out so you come up with a different plan. 

You find the most eligible bachelor in the bar and bet him a kiss if he can beat you at darts, knowing you wouldn’t win. You are more than happy to oblige when one of his objectively attractive friends wants to make the same deal. 

Approaching the poker table without any cash, you put in 5 kisses to the winner as your buy in instead of the $5 they were asking for. 

About three drinks in, you tell one of your close guy friends that you would finally give him the chance he has always wanted with you. If he could take the most shots in 30 seconds. You know he could out drink you on your best day, and he celebrates his victory with a passionate make out session against the wall in a dark corner. When you finally pull away from him you stumble out of the bar and sit on the curb, you need a little air.

Ellie is the only thing on your mind, she has anchored herself there and held on through every forced kiss. Sitting in the curb, at first you think you are imagining her beautifully familiar laugh. When you look up and see that she is actually there, she rolls her eyes. “You are so cliche.” 

“Who cares?” You reply nonchalantly with a smirk and you can see a darkness grown in her eyes as she is overcome by anger. 

“What the hell were you doing in there?” She snaps.

You bat your eyes at her the way you always do, hoping it will calm her down. “I’m just having a good time.”

Your flirty disposition does nothing to soften her anger. “Right in front of my face? With this…this thing between us?”

“Ellie I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, there is nothing between us. We are not together. We are nothing,” you remind her.

“You know what, it’s fine.” She spats. “It’s cool. I may be a fool but I know that you know the truth. Make a new excuse, another stupid reason. I know how I feel about you, and I can’t do this anymore.” Ellie turns to walk away and you grab her hand. “I don’t want to call it off!”

“But you don’t want to call it love!” She yells at you.

“Ellie please keep it down, we aren't the only ones out here.”

She obviously doesn’t care. “You can tell me you want that, why can’t you tell me what you really want?!”

You squint your eyes, growing irritable and raising your voice. “I’ve told you what I want, so please, tell me what you think I want.”

“You only wanna be the one that I call “baby”.” Ellie tells you as she kicks a rock. 

You stand up. “So what if I like being called “baby” by you? So what if I have feelings I don’t want to admit? That doesn’t mean I’m going to throw my life away. This is just the way I am. I will do whatever it takes to fight the feeling.”

Ellie gets right up in your face. “You can say that’s just the way you are, but do you really think this is a battle you can win? You came onto me. I see the way that you look at me. I’ve heard the sounds you make when I touch you and I’ve listened to you beg for more. Go ahead, you can kiss a hundred boys in bars. I’ve seen the way you cringe away from them.”

“I just get nervous.” You roll your eyes and take a step back. “Nothing a few drinks can’t fix.”

“You’ve had plenty to drink. But feel free to shoot another shot to try to stop the feeling. Eventually you’ll drink yourself to death and that’s the only way you are going to escape.” Ellie has never been so harsh with you and her words hit you like a freight train. 

“I would stop the whole world if it meant I could stop this feeling!” You cry out, on the verge of tears.

“That’s not how it works, babe. I can see it all now. You, in the years, with some sad excuse for a husband and a couple of bratty kids. You’ll wake up next to him in the middle of the night and look over at him in disgust. Put your head in your hands and cry because you are nothing more than his wife. You are going to think about me, all of those years ago, and want to sneak out on him while he sleeps, like you always did to me. Oh how the tables will have turned. But you won’t leave. You are too proud to come face to face with I told you so. You know that I would hate to say it, but all I would be able to say is ‘I told you so’.”

The tears start to fall, you can’t hold them back any longer. “Fine Ellie. I’ll admit it. I don’t want to be stuck with some man for the rest of my life.”

She crosses her arms. “I think I’m going to call this off.”

You try to plead with her. “Please don’t do this to me Ellie. I just wanna love someone who calls me ‘baby’. You call me baby. Would you still leave if I called this love?”

“Even if you call it love.”

You literally get down on your knees to beg. “Please Ellie!” You sob pathetically.

She backs away from you, and her face is saying that this hurts her more than it’s hurting you. “Good luck, babe.”

Update: Someone mentioned wanting a happy ending and I had so much fun writing this, so I will be writing a part 2! If you are here for the angst you can end here but a happy ending will be coming soon in part 2!

[1moreff-creator]

Corrigendum - Literature Girl Insane Analysis

Updates After CH2 PT2

More than a year ago, the entire DRDT fandom was thrown on its head when the Literature Girl Insane David MV dropped. And with the help of DRDT Tumblr for mystery finding and interpretations, about a year ago I made “A Full Vivisection of the David MV,” a two and a half hour video going over everything I could. While I still think the video mostly holds up even after CH2 PT2, there’s quite a few things that require an update. Let’s go over them, shall we?

(Is this a correct use of the word "corrigendum"? I don't know, but it's close enough for me to use given the connection to the book theme we got going on :v)

As a warning, though, this post will more or less assume that you’ve watched Vivisection, as some sections might be complete gibberish without the context of my previous interpretations of this thing.

Spoilers up to CH2. CW: Suicide, murder, hanging, CH2 execution, gun violence, blood

I’ll go through the recontextualizations in order of appearance in the MV, though first: 

Footnote 14 Solution, Tally 5 Correction

So these two things aren’t related to Part 2, but instead codes already in LGI. Since Vivisection came out, the footnote 14/Roman numeral I code got solved, and I’ve been informed that the solution for tally 5 I hinted at in the video was, while not wrong in the sense that you could arrive at the code using it, not the actually intended solution. Basically I said to pay attention to line breaks, when you’re actually supposed to ignore them, and that meant that one character had to be ignored when in reality the real solution works perfectly fine without ignoring it. Sorry, the line break thing was just commonly repeated advice given on Tumblr at the time and I don’t know why I never double checked how accurate it was :v

The proper solutions can be found in my Secrets Masterpost, so I won’t repeat them here. The Roman numeral I code, attached to Xander via crosswords, returned “I have always looked up to you,” which is perfectly in line with both the things David states in 2-12 and the conclusions drawn about how he feels towards Xander from the MV. As for tally 5, that will be addressed later. 

Yoidore Shirazu Lyrics

Another thing that happened was the release of the Elliot MV, Yoidore Shirazu. While the MV itself is not particularly for our purposes, I'm bringing it up to double check a thing with the lyrics.

You might remember that a big chunk of Vivisection was informed by "Language Theory," the idea that some lyrics' translations were specifically changed to fit better with David. This was supported by footnote 5, "As the translation has been intentionally botched in many parts, it should not be considered accurate," as well as the fact that Coleena Wu was listed in the credits, meaning her translation was used as a base for the David MV even though there were many differences between the David MV's lyrics and her version.

Thus, when I saw that Yoidore Shirazu credited Magenetra for the English lyrics, I figured I'd check if it happened again. And yes, there are a few lines here and there where the Elliot version is slightly different from the original translation. While I won't get into all of them in this post, a particularly notable change is "my muddy, obstructed and broken vision of the future, it's not half bad" in the original changing to "my muddy, obstructed, broken future, it's not half bad" in the Elliot MV, for example.

What does this tell us about the David MV? Well, I would argue that if dev decided to change a few lyrics in an MV where word placement isn't as important as in LGI, presumably just to make them fit better with Elliot or because dev just prefers certain wording (I don't see any other reasons the translation would be different), then it's very possible that they also consciously changed a few LGI lines to fit better with David. Maybe. In other words, I believe this is an extra argument to the validity of Language Theory, though I could also see it as an argument against ("maybe dev just doesn't care about sticking so close to the translations they use") :v

Now let’s actually go from the start of the MV to the end, shall we?

Color Connection Theory: Orange

In Vivisection, I said (words more words less) that while in a vacuum orange would probably go to Ace, the context of some of the lines seemed to fit Xander better, with the argument that the trailer for the series assigns orange as the color of the first letter of Xander’s name in a hypothetical class trial. The main argument was that Orange “that guy” appeared next to Green “this guy” (Hu/Teruko, leaning Hu) and Black “you” (possibly Mai), and lumping Ace in with characters who seemed much more important than him at the time seemed… strange.

Since then, Ace has gained a notable amount of importance to this particular part of the story, given the whole blackened thing. As a result, I would argue his inclusion as Orange is now more likely than Xander’s. Take a look at the start of the first chorus, for example, and you’ll see that putting Xander as red (which would be redundant if he’s also orange) makes for a nice, neat reading in the context of this trial.

[Literature Girl Insane] Even if you cry, make noise, shout, go mad the world won’t change!

Arei: “Even if you cry about hurting Eden, you’ll still always be a horrible person.”

Hu: “Even if you make noise to make yourself useful, you’re still the same hopeless child who attempted suicide three times.”

Ace: “Even if you shout, you’ll always be a coward.”

Xander: “Even if you go mad, you’ll always be a good person at heart.”

“No matter what, you people (the world) won’t change.”

What a lovely worldview David has! 

There’s also this instance, "let's play!":

[Literature Girl Insane] With anonymous hopes let's play!

Which makes sense given Ace is “playing the killing game” by… killing in the game. Foreshadowing or am I insane? These are not mutually exclusive. 

Hand Holding

dev why /affectionate

So, yeah. Arei holds David’s hand the same way Ideal Country Woman does. At least we’ve got near 100% confirmation that the weird line of white pixels is not a glove or anything, but rather a bend of the wrist as expected. 

Now we have to ask what Arei’s connection to this mess is. Thankfully, I can at least draw a connection between Arei and the surrounding context of the scene, so we’re not going in completely blind. As a reminder, here’s the interpretation I arrived at for the “tunnel scene” that directly precedes Miss Hand Holding’s appearance.

[Extract from Vivisection] David gives Xander the order to "escape the tunnel," so open himself up to love others. However, "but," loving David is a bad idea, because he's a monster who's better off dead. His opinion, right? So he asks himself, where should Xander escape? "Where to?" In other words, who should Xander like and be friends with?

The connection to Arei should be more or less clear, provided you replace Xander's name with her. There’s two ways to take it. Arei opened herself up to David, “escaped the tunnel on his direction” per say. And given what happened directly after, you could say it led to a “disastrous scene.” Alternatively, if David genuinely wanted to accept Arei’s proposal to be “less shitty together,” if he “escaped the tunnel in Arei’s direction,” that too could be considered a “disastrous scene” because Arei died. That one’s admittedly a pretty big if, butconsidering some of the stuff David says…

David [2-10]: Unless, of course, you were Arei. That girl wanted desperately to prove herself as a "friend" to Eden. And yet she completely lacked any experience with what "friends" were actually like. [...] What could she know about "friendship," after all? Someone like her, who had not once experienced kindness in her entire life up until now? [...] [Breaking down] It's... It's so... Ahaha. It's just so foolish. For someone to take advantage of Arei like that... It's absolutely unforgivable. All she wanted was to change. What a reprehensible person this killer is. I look forward to seeing their painful execution.

Yeah he might have cared. 

So, okay, Arei can be connected to the surrounding context so this isn’t completely out of left field, but we still have the possibility of a further connection to the Mystery Girl. As you might recall, this girl is either Diana Chiem (based on certain similarities with David and because revealing Ms Naegi like this would be weird) or Ms Naegi (because Diana isn’t in the Cast List, while Naegi is). I don’t see any immediate connections to Naegi, so we’re left with Diana, who also has little connection.

Of course, the number one takeaway is that Arei reminds David of Diana (or Ms Naegi) in some way, so we can infer Mystery Girl might have supported David despite knowing about his manipulative nature, especially possible since she's positioned in the MV in a way where she's the "(so-called) ideal country." I'm about to ramble a whole lot more about other possibilities, but this is probably what we're meant to get from this.

If we’re allowing a small amount of unhingedness, another connection that could be drawn is between Arei’s family situation and David’s. Arei also had sisters, but they treated her horribly until Arei ruined their lives. Translated to Diana, this could mean that David treated her badly, that she did something to harm him, or both. If their relationship turned bad during Hope’s Peak time, it could explain why Footnote David, presumed to be David before losing his memories, claims she doesn’t exist, when Killing Game David speaks about her openly. Did he try to cut ties with her or something, and tries to pretend she doesn’t exist? Again, unhinged and probably not what the takeaway is meant to be, but we know less than zero about Diana, so it's not impossible.

Alternatively, though, it's worth noting that Mystery Girl and Arei tilt their heads in opposite directions, which could symbolize they're opposites in a way. Taken with the previous interpretations, this could mean either Mystery Girl supported David without knowing about his motive secret (opposite of interpretation 1), or that Arei's family situation is opposite Diana's, aka David had a good relationship with his sister (opposite of interpretation 2).

But speaking of insane, would you believe me if I told you that this visual similarity could, alternatively, be evidence for literally the most unhinged theory in the entire Vivisection? That is, the ridiculous deduction which is arrived at by analyzing the objects in the “suspicious gaps” attached to footnote 11, “I admit to lying. There is no one named OOOOO OOOOO. I am, and always have been, an only child," as well as the Catch-22 quote that comes directly after. Full explanation in Vivisection, but here’s the theory. 

[Extract from Vivisection]  So, first, I think the footnote is a double lie. David's lying about lying. He does actually have a sister but, for some reason, he's trying to deny it. He's pulling an Arturo: something happened with his sister, and he's trying to distance himself from it. That's where the snake with the blood and the safe come in, with the rope possibly implying a suicide. Remember the family history of depression? [...] So, it's possible Diana died. [...] It's also possible that whatever happened to Diana would have been hinted at in David's motive video. [...] Yeah, that's my explanation for the TV. But, why would this bad thing which happened to Diana be in David's motive video? That would imply David doesn't remember it. That's what the Snowden line could mean. [...]

Yeah remember that insane thing? Well, Arei died by hanging, so it’s possible Diana also died by hanging, aka suicide. This connection doesn’t make the theory any less unhinged, but it’s there. 

I hate the things I love, and I love the things I hate

As a refresher, this screen is about Xander, indicated mainly by the references to electrocution literally framing the scene. Nothing’s actually changed here, mind you, I just wanted to point out that it’s interesting that so far, we’ve only seen David talk about Xander with love, and we haven’t really seen the whole “I hate” part yet. Curious to see how that will develop later.

suspicious gaps

Still zero clue, I’m just putting it here because it’s still killing me.

V. Right now, why do you go insane? [Ace's numeral]

We should’ve known, guys… Ace’s numeral is literally right next to Arei’s (IV), not just in song position, but numerically. Incidentally, that means both killers so far have been in multiples of five (Min with X, Ace with V), so, uh, Whit (XV), anything you wanna tell us about CH3?

(I don’t think he’ll be the CH3 killer I’m just being silly :p)

Anyways, the big update here is related to the background text, “a cat has 9 additional lives.” This was already pointed out by treescanfly, and that is that Thanatophobia, Ace’s execution, featured 9 different execution methods (scythe - illness - fire - falling - murder - drowning - lightning - firing squad (execution)). Looks like horseboy really was a catboy all along!

XIII. or [not to be?] [Teruko's numeral]

The interpretation of the quote itself, that it’s a reference to Teruko’s suicidal tendencies, hasn’t changed. It’s only gotten more explicit.

Teruko [2-16]: Killed? I doubt it. As if something so kind could happen to me.

:(

Not much else here, though it seems Teruko might start rejecting the suffering associated with being the Omelas child given her talk with DefaultTV, so that’s fun.

Footnote 6, “[Prayer]”

So what I’m about to say is technically a connection that existed since LGI’s realease, but was just a bit too insane for me to even think about back then. 

Basically, you know how Mai is referred to as a “God” in this video, because of her numeral and the arrow? Well… what if that’s connected to this footnote? And, I don’t know, Min is praying to Mai?

Again, unhinged even for my standards, but with the confirmation that XF-Ture Tech is in some form behind the killing game… anything that puts Min in a weirdly plot relevant position (such as inexplicably having a Mai connection beyond what we saw in Bonus Episode 1) should be at least written down for posterity, if nothing else. 

That's my way of saying- Please write about Min, guys. I miss her :(

Footnote 12

“Majority rule” is known to be the fairest method of making decisions for a group. That's why murderers never complained when we voted for them to die.

In Vivisection, I primarily argued the meaning of this footnote through the lens that David may have genuinely believed he had driven Arei to suicide, and thus believed he was the blackened. This turned out to be horribly wrong, so we course correct. 

Instead, this simply seems to be what David was hoping would happen when he pulled out the magical girl transformation, albeit stylized with an impossible 16 people vote. The screen that flashes after just seems to reflect what David thinks would actually happen if a blackened won, or just what will happen by the end of the killing game no matter what: “Everyone will be executed.” That’s based on this line:

David [2-12]: 15 lives. Some of them are very dear to you. And your own life as well. Is there anything at all that could be more important to you than those 16 human lives?

Where David talks about sacrificing the full 16 lives of the participants, seemingly without taking into account that the blackened wouldn’t actually die in his plan. Because of that, it’s inferred that David doesn’t actually think the blackened would survive even if they won the trial. 

Other than that, the footnote seems to just be a direct reference to what Teruko says in the trial:

Teruko [2-15]: We determine who lives and who dies by a majority vote. In other words, the opinion of everyone who *isn't* you.

Which, uh... makes things easier, so I'm not gonna read into it much further :v

“What is the most important thing?” / Mistaken alphabet

Still no idea what these two things are about, that’s why I’m bringing them up :v

Original

[Extract from Vivisection] So, what I think is the best idea is that all the characters [referring to Color Theory] got the word. [...] I think it makes more sense to relate them to the meaning of "original style" under my interpretation, where "original style" means a change of heart.

The interpretation from Vivisection seems to hold strong, as MonoTV did actually have a “change of heart” of sorts, albeit brief. Hey we take the Ws where we can get them >:D

Two Eyed Xander

The theory discussed in Vivisection that David might hold memories from Hope’s Peak times was seemingly debunked by a tweet from the dev, even if the thread referenced in the link was later deleted. I did say in Vivisection that I didn’t believe the theory even if it was cool, so… we’re chilling. 

Of course, though, we did get confirmation that David knew about Xander before Hope's Peak, so the appearance of Xander with two eyes was meaningful! Cool!

Correct/Incorrect (Tally 5)

This is going to discuss the unlisted video linked in the footnotes of Vivisection, which I am well aware most of you probably didn’t watch given the view count. In any case, the thing I said there, which I also said in my Mai post, was that tally 5 could imply David had been involved in the weird revolution against Hope’s Peak that Xander and Mai had going on. While this is still certainly possible, given what was said in 2-12, it seems more plausible that tally 5 actually references David taking on Xander’s dream during the killing game.

David [2-12]: I don't care how low I'll sink, or how despicable I'll have to become. I'll do anything to carry on Xander's ideals by ending this killing game, even if it means I have to dirty my hands.

Yeah, the dream of killing everyone, that one. I say this not only because we know David “threw away his humanity” for it, but also because the image itself shows David holding Xander’s jacket, which would imply this is being said after Xander’s death. Thus, during the killing game. 

Numeral IX - Look, aside from that, give me the usual medicine [Levi's numeral]

Well, he sure needs medicine alright! Yeah that’s the best answer I currently have about what in the hell this numeral means, so we’re going with this. 

That said, points to Vivisection me, because the “Levi is Jupiter protecting Earth from asteroids” interpretation ended up being pretty solid. 

Clock Fork

You know, the theory that Eden was the one to rip out Xander’s eye based on the clock in LGI existed before I made Vivisection, I just… didn’t invlude it. The one unhinged theory I don’t mention ends up being true, huh? Well, there’s that. Not much else to say, if you're deep into DRDT lore you already know the implications of a bloody fork.

-

And… that’s about that! Although I had quite a few comments to make and things to add, actual corrections were few and far between, which I’m happy about! Mind you, there's probably a few Vivisection statements here and there I'm forgetting about, but still. Hope you enjoyed this little corrigendum, and if you made it this far, you deserve your own Jupiter-Levi to defend you in your time of need! See you later!

[minasattic]

“no matter what.”

im nayeon x fem!twice 10th member reader; fluff

warnings: a HINT of angst if you squint, talk of disbandment

w/c: 747

a/n: i don’t like this fic but i’ll post it anyways </3 NOT PROOFREAD !!!!

-

it was saturday, and today was one of the days where all of the girls had an off day. they were rare, so most spent it with eachother, doing fun things around seoul, but a select few, including you, decided to stay at the dorm and rest.

you lounged on your bed, keen on spending your day off rotting in bed. you had scrolled through your phone for hours now, and honestly you were getting kind of bored. you were thinking of going to bother Mina, who had stayed behind, but figured she’d probably tell you to leave so that she could continue playing her game.

so instead, you kept scrolling, mindlessly wandering the internet. that’s until something caught your eye. It was an article on Jeongyeon’s interview with Bazzar earlier that week. You skimmed through the interview, curious to see what the older girl had said.

You stopped when you came across a question asking “Can you believe twice is in its 10th year?”

You felt your heart pang. No, you couldn’t believe that twice was in its tenth year. You couldn’t believe that you had spent ten years with these girls, who used to be strangers to you. it all felt so surreal.

you continued to read, wanting to know what Jeongyeon replied. You felt another pang in your heart reading what she answered. She replied, “How many more albums can we release as twice in the future? We can’t be active as twice forever. Of course, it would be nice if we could, but there will come a time when we each have to walk our own path. It’s not a given that we can prepare an album together like now.”

You set your phone down, getting lost in your thoughts. You hadn’t thought about what it would be like without twice. without your members. you’ve spent every waking hour with them since sixteen, and a world without them feels unreal. but Jeongyeons right, you can’t be twice forever. you’ll have to move on eventually.

just the thought makes you tear up. and in seconds, you have tears running down your face, ugly crying. you grab the tissue box by your bed and try to clean your face up, but failing as the tears continue to stream down your face.

you hear a knock on your door, “y/n-ah, are you okay?” it’s nayeon. she must have heard your wailing.

you sniffle, using all your strength to muster up a reply. “y-yes, nayeon un-unnie” you said through sniffles.

“y/n, you’re clearly not. i’m coming in.” she opens the door, revealing you sitting in your bed, your face red, tissues spewed everywhere, and snot running down your nose. her eyes soften instantly. “oh baby…” she walks over to you, sitting on your bed and pulling you into her embrace. “what’s wrong?” she asks, stroking your hair.

“what are we going to do, unnie…” you mutter. nayeon pulls away, looking at you softly.

“what do you mean?” at that, you start spewing out words. you express how you’re not ready for the future. how you don’t want to grow up. how frightened you are at the fact that it’s already been ten years, when it seemed like only yesterday you all debuted. and how scared you are that you’re going to lose all of them. your best friends.

nayeon looks at you with a pout. she takes your face in her hands and wipes your tears. “it will be okay, y/n-ah.” she says, stroking your hair.

“unnie, i don’t kn-know what i’m going to do without you g-guys..” you say, sobbing.

nayeon sighs. of course she’s thought about disbandment. she wasn’t ready for it either; none of them were. so she tells you what she had been telling herself. “y/n, no matter what happens. no matter what path we choose to take. we are always going to be twice. a silly disbandment won’t break our friendship. we’ll always have eachothers backs, and support each other in whatever we decide to do.”

you nod, hugging her again. she lays down on your bed, putting your head on her chest. “go to sleep, y/n… you’ve had a long day..” you nod, wiping a stray tear.

the two of you sit in silence for a while, before you speak up. “i love you, unnie…” you say, hugging her tighter.

nayeon rubs your back with her hand. “i love you too, y/n.”

you fall asleep, with nayeons comforting embrace assuring you that no matter what life brings you, you’ll always be together.

you’ll always be twice

[augustjoy]

I’ll do things right this time.

Sneak peek: Bucky and you had been exploring the dynamics of a d/s relationship, only you didn’t do as much research as you should’ve which is how you end up experiencing sub drop. That’s a mistake Bucky won’t let happen again.

Bucky x Avenger! Fem Reader

Smut/Angst/Fluff

Word count: 4170

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, Porn with plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up), fingering, oral (female receiving), D/S dynamic, spanking (with a belt), Language, choking, aftercare!, dirty talk? (not degrading, but something), no use of y/n, talk of depression and mental health, subspace, sub drop, Let me know if I missed any.

Not edited - This thought came to me this morning and I had to get it written down. Also I do NOT consent to having my work translated or posted to any other site! That being said I don't own the following images of characters. Enjoy!

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat as he continued to pound into you from behind, placing just enough pressure to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You were in pure bliss, not a single coherent thought running through your head, only thoughts of him.

“That’s it doll, take my fucking cock.” Bucky grunted.

You could only whine in response. Your mind had long since emptied and you were left unable to form words. You felt like putty in the hands of your boyfriend, and you couldn’t be happier. You knew this had been good for Buck. The two of you recently exploring your sex life had led to this night where he was truly dominating you for the first time. After having no control in his life for so long, you knew he needed this, to control something, to control you. And you fucking loved it, surrendering yourself to him completely was the greatest experience, especially if it would feel like this every time.

You could feel what had to be your fourth or fifth orgasm approaching, and you were too far gone to even notify Bucky before it came crashing over you.

“Christ, another one. Baby you’re gripping me so ti-ght” Bucky breathed into your ear as he sloppily thrusted into you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum doll. I’m gonna fill you up so good.” And with those words he finished, pushing his seed into you as his hips slowed.

He didn’t slip out right away, instead he stayed momentarily as he removed his hand from your throat and pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder. You were so far gone, you’d honestly didn’t even feel it, so when he’d actually slipped out of you and then the bed to retrieve a wet cloth to clean up the mess pooling between your legs, you hissed from not only the sensitivity but the shock.

Bucky threw the cloth into the laundry basket in your bathroom and returned to your bed. As he positioned himself behind you, he let his arm creep around your middle and pull you into him.

“You with me doll?” He questioned.

“Mmhmm.” You hummed as you nuzzled your face into the pillow.

You’d never felt like this before. I mean sure, Bucky has definitely fucked you stupid before, but this was different. It was like your consciousness had left your body and was watching from the other side of the room. It had been so good…so what was this darkness that was starting to creep in?

The morning came quickly, Bucky had been alerted to a meeting. Needing to complete the official debriefing from his latest mission, which left you all alone in your bed. When you stirred and rolled over to find the bed empty on his side, well that was the cool wind that pushed the door open, inviting the darkness in.

Bucky found you curled up in bed like this hours later. He was immediately filled with panic, you never stayed in bed all day, not unless it was by his side. Or if you were feeling particularly down.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He questions.

Your silence only worried him further. Normally if you were going through an episode you’d at least inform him in some way that you didn’t want to talk to him. Why were you being so quiet now? He leaned down to kiss your hairline and whisper to you that he was there if you needed him. It was when two whole days had passed, and he was sure you hadn’t moved, that he became increasingly worried. He’d vented to Steve a bit and ultimately Steve couldn’t offer much advice, this was uncharted territory for him.

It was when Bucky ran into Wanda that he got the idea. If she could just tap into your head and see what was going on, maybe he could make things better. He needed to know if he had caused this, if he was the reason you were lost in the storm of your mind.

 “I don’t like to do this without consent of the person Barnes.” Wanda seethed.

“I know, but Wanda she’s your friend and she has been like this for almost three days, and I am worried about her!” Bucky rushed.

“Fine!” Wanda folded.

Bucky watched as the red fog made its way from Wanda’s fingers to your mind. Wanda’s face contorted as she made contact with your thoughts. Bucky couldn’t quite read the expression she was wearing. Wanda let a small smile grace her lips briefly before it turned into a grimace and then a scowl, directed at Bucky.

“You are lucky she is my friend, because that was way too much information.” Wanda cringed.

“So? What is it? What’s wrong with her?” Bucky begs.

“She explained it as sub drop. She had read about it, it’s like when you drop from such a high. It can hit especially bad if there isn’t proper aftercare.” Wanda explained.

Bucky nodded in understanding. He thanked Wanda and apologized for the awkwardness of the situation. He made his way to your laptop to figure out how he could make things better. Unfortunately, it seemed to be very similar to when you were in a depressive episode. He had to reassure you he was there, but ultimately waiting it out was the only option.

It took 36 more hours for you to speak to him again. He was sure he’d imagined it initially, but as you sputtered from the dryness of your throat, he made out your request.

“Water?”

He jumped up so quickly to get you the water and after you’d taken a few sips he had pulled you into his arms and held you tightly for hours.

That was three weeks ago.

“You’re never going to touch me again are you?” You wondered.

You glanced over at Bucky, who was scrolling through his phone. Presumably looking even further into the d/s dynamic you’d started. Since the incident he had expressed that you two wouldn’t engage in a scene until he was sure how to do it safely.

“Doll, I just want to make sure that we’re doing this right. That things are safe and healthy.” He explained.

“But things were safe! It was so good baby, soooo good!” You reassured him.

“You couldn’t see yourself though! I was so fucking scared.” Bucky sat up in bed and looked over to you, tears forming in his eyes. “Sweetheart it was like you were gone. I thought I had lost you. I know how you get when things go dark for a bit, but this was worse. You weren’t even talking, let alone moving or eating.”

Bucky’s explanation had honestly shocked you; you knew it had been bad and that it had shaken him, but you didn’t think it had affected him this much. You were someone who delt with seasonal depression and you were also someone who had highhighs and low lows. Finding out that the darkness you had been feeling and that had ultimately consumed you had in fact been sub drop didn’t exactly come as a shock to you. Given your history it made a lot of sense that you would be more susceptible to it. But hearing how it had messed Bucky up broke your heart and so you’d let him take his time and do the research he wanted to ensure that you could try to avoid it next time around.

You didn’t think that you would have to wait nearly TWO months.

You finally got him to snap at Tony’s annual charity gala. You had all been dressed up and Bucky looked good. You loved it when he wore a suit, Tony had made sure that he had some that were tailored perfectly. You could kiss Tony for that, it had hugged Bucky in all the right places. The problem was, Bucky was purposely not giving you the attention you wanted.

It was time to take matters into your own hands. You’d get his attention one way or another and you’d had a good idea of how to do it.

You made your way over to where Thor was standing at the bar. He was telling stories of his life on Asgard when you’d come up next to him. You wrapped one of your arms around his back and let the other lay on his chest. Thor thought nothing of this, wrapping his arm around your middle, pulling you closer.

From across the room, Bucky was watching you. His jaw clenching, hands balling into fists. He shook his head. He knew what game you were playing, and he couldn’t give in. He needed to wait until things were right. He was honestly scared. He didn’t want to relive what happened last time.

“If you’re just gonna stand there, then I am going to do something about this.” Steve scoffed he couldn’t stand to watch his friend suffer.

He watched as Steve made his way over to you and Thor. Upon his arrival your face lit up, you called out for Steve and threw your arms around him. You let your arms travel the length of his broad back, looking up into Bucky’s eyes. You turned around so your back was now facing Bucky, all the while staying in Steve’s embrace. You whispered seductively into Steve’s ear.

“I just want him to fuck me, that’s all.”

Steve’s face went bright red as he looked down into your eyes. That was it. Bucky had seen enough. He couldn’t let this go on any longer. In seconds, Bucky had made his way across the room and was now dragging you back to your shared room, mumbling something under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out.

“If you’re going to talk shit, can’t you at least say it loud enough for me to hear?” You quipped.

“Jesus. I think you forgot who you’re talking to.” Bucky said turning swiftly, gripping your chin with his metal hand. “You were the one in there parading around and putting your hands all over Steve and Thor. I mean for fucks sake.”

“Okay well maybe I was all over them because you haven’t touched me in months! I am not made of glass! Maybe I should go back out there and see if Thor is interested.” You said, feigning innocence.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Bucky growled. “Our room now. Strip and kneel.”

A shiver of anticipation made its way through your body. You couldn’t be more excited about what was to come. You figured you’d be punished, but it would all be worth it in the end. You were buzzing with excitement, unsure of what to expect as Bucky had been doing research for the past two months leading up to this moment.

You had to push your thoughts aside as you followed his orders, stripping yourself bare and kneeling at the foot of the bed, waiting for him to enter.

“Oh, so you can follow directions.” Bucky’s arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the door frame.

As badly as you’d love to snap back at him, you knew it would only piss him off more. So, you kept your mouth shut. You desperately wanted him to touch you. You had been yearning for it, and here it was finally going to happen, burning like a flame ready to consume you both.

“I want you on your hands and knees. Before I can do anything with you, you need to be punished.” His voice was calm as he spoke, making his way to the bench at the end of your bed.

“Yes sir.” You obeyed.

You got yourself into position on the floor in front of him. In his hand he was gripping his belt, you hadn’t even noticed him remove it. The thought alone had sent a rush of slick between your legs. Once you were settled, he ran the edge of the belt down your back, this caused you to jump slightly. The cool leather had been a shock against your heated skin.

“Are you ready doll? You’ll take your punishment silently, understood?” He looked to your face, gauging your every expression.

“Yes sir.” You replied quicky.

“Color?”

“Green.”

With that came the first strike of the belt. It wasn’t hard enough to put you in tears, but it was by surprise which caused you to stumble forward a bit. You could hear Bucky readjust himself as you regained your composure. The second you had righted yourself brought another strike and then another. By the fifth one, a whine slipped from your throat.

“Sorry sir.” Your voice was hoarse.

“See that’s the thing, good girls don’t need to apologize because they do what they’re told.” With that he snapped his belt against your already reddening cheeks.

“I can be your good girl sir.” You pleaded.

“Oh, I know you can be, I just don’t think you want to be. I think you like being a little brat because it leads to this.”

Bucky’s words and tone had gone straight to your core. The research he’d done must’ve been damn good because you were in pure ecstasy. You were dripping down your thighs, so much so, you knew he could see it.

“Alright doll. Five more, and I want you to count them out. Color?” He checked in.

“Yes sir. Green.” You barely got the words out before the belt fell against your skin.

“One.”

Another strike.

“Two.”

Another. This time slightly harder.

“Three.”

The next one was lower, the leather lightly grazing your lips. You couldn’t help the strangled gasp that escaped your mouth.

“Four.”

“Color?” He was quick to check in, worried about the sound you’d released.

“Green.”

“Doll. Color?” He didn’t believe you.

“Green sir. I’m so green.” You could hear the arousal in your own voice.

“Good.” He said as he brought the belt down one final time.

“Five.”

Bucky threw his belt to the side, grabbing you by your elbow pulling you up off the floor. You stumbled a bit, your knees weak from having been on the floor for some time. He looked at you with lust blown eyes. He gripped your face and kissed you with the passion you had been missing these last two months. You two stayed like that a moment, before he finally pulled back.

“Up on the bed, on your back.” He ordered as he began to rid himself of his clothes.

You scrambled up onto the bed, waiting for his next move. Watching him, desperately wanting his touch as he removed his tie and dress shirt. He brought the tie over towards you.

“Arms up sweetheart.” He instructed.

“Bu-” You had to stop yourself.

“No. You sat and had your hands all over Thor and Steve. I think you need to learn that touching is a privilege to be earned.” He said as he pulled your hands up over your head securing them both to the headboard with his silk tie.

This was a new side to Bucky, his tone, how domineering he was being. You could already feel yourself becoming more and more fuzzy. This is better than what you had imagined when you’d first brought up the dom/sub dynamic.

Once your hands we secured, Bucky took a step back, clearly admiring his handywork. He let out a low growl as he made his way back to you, between your legs.

“Christ doll. You’ve made a mess. Who’s got you this wet?” He had a teasing tone.

“You sir! You do!” You wanted nothing more than him to touch you, your body was practically vibrating in anticipation.

He leaned down to your ear, breath hot on your skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying hard to focus on his words.

“That’s right doll. Remember who makes you feel this good.”

He plunged two of his Vibranium fingers into your dripping heat and you let out a strangled cry.

“Bucky!”

This only encouraged his behavior. He sped up the pace of his thrusts, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. You tugged at your restraints, wanting nothing more than to run your fingers through his gorgeous hair. Your hips were lifting up off the mattress, begging for something more. He pressed his pelvis into yours to aide in stilling your movements. His fingers curling up, perfectly grazing that spot inside you. His lips transferred to your other nipple, sure to give it attention before making his way down your body.

You could feel yourself nearing the edge as he attached his lips to your clit. You gasped; his actions having stolen all the air from your lungs.

“Oh my god, yes. Please! I’m gon-I’m so close.” You’d managed to get out.

“Hold it.” Bucky demanded, his eyes gazing up to yours.

“What? I don’t…I don’t think I can.” You and bucky had talked about orgasm denial and truthfully it had been an exciting topic.

“You can and you will, if you want my cock.” He stated, his teeth grazing your clit gently.

He continued working his fingers in and out of your cunt and his tongue against your clit all the while you were doing everything in your power to think of anything but the pleasure you were feeling in hopes to prolong the arrival of your orgasm. This went on for what felt like an eternity before he finally uttered the words.

“Cum now.”

That was all it took for the gush of wetness to release from you and all over his fingers. You cried out, tears streaming down your face, your body shaking from the pleasure. Bucky was sure to stop slowly, not wanting to shock you with an abrupt end to the pleasure before untying your wrists and moving to your next positions.

“You still with me doll?” Bucky asked, gently caressing your face.

“Mmm, yes” you said, attempting to catch your breath.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.”  He kissed you once more before helping to position you.

Bucky was sat, leaning against the headboard. He pulled you up into his lap, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he lowered you onto his cock, both of you letting out low moans. His hands moved from your hips, his Vibranium hand back to your clit and his flesh hand to your jaw, turning your head.

“Eyes open sweetheart.” He instructed you.

As you opened your eyes you could see that he had positioned you in such a way that you could see everything in your full-length mirror that was sat in the corner of the room.

“I want to see your gorgeous face when you cum on my cock.” He whispered into your ear.

“But wait, what about…” You started.

“Uh-Uh. Baby tonight is about me reminding you who you belong to. Got it?” The way he could read your mind was like pure magic.

“Yes sir.” You obeyed.

His hand turned your face a bit further so he could capture your lips in a kiss, before turning you back toward the mirror then landing around your neck. Bucky applied a bit of pressure there, analyzing your reactions in your reflection. Your eyes meet his in the mirror and you nod subtly, your lips ghosting over the word green.

He didn’t need any more reassurance; your consent was the release of the flood gates. Bucky used his hand on your neck as a sort of anchor as he snapped his hips up into your own, his Vibranium fingers working over your clit. Pushing you to the edge, you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back this time. Looking at Bucky’s eyes in the mirror once more, he could see the broken plea in your expression.

“Go ahead baby, cum on my cock.” He grunted.

You couldn’t form words or thoughts as your orgasm crashed over you. You felt the pressure in your lower body release along with a wave of wetness around Bucky’s cock. Your breathing was shallow as he continued to fuck up into you, chasing his own release. You could feel him become more ragged, his breaths and his thrusts, he was close, and you couldn’t wait to be filled with him.

“Fuck sweetheart, your pussy is so fucking tight.” He huffed out as he spilled inside you, his seed coating your walls as his hips slowed.

The room was quiet, save for your breaths returning to normal, Bucky’s hands had moved from your clit and your throat to wrap around your middle, hugging you to him as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck and shoulders. Worry was beginning to consume his as you still hadn’t said anything, and you wore that same fuzzy expression as last time.

“You okay doll?” Bucky asked.

“Mmhmm, I’m good baby.” You mumbled, pulling his hand up so you could lay a kiss against his palm.

“Good, let’s go get you cleaned up.” He released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.

Bucky slid the two of you off the bed, trying to keep the mess to a minimum. When you made it to the edge, he slowly lifted you off of his lap, causing you to whine. He shushed you gently rubbing circles on your hips as he inspected your ass for the damage he had caused. It was red and angry, no broken skin, but there were welts that he knew would hurt for the days to come.

“It’s okay bub, I can’t even feel it.” You muttered, knowing he might be cursing himself for causing you pain.

“You can’t feel it now doll, that’s the adrenaline. But tomorrow they’re going to hurt. Let’s get you in the bath.”

He led you into your bathroom. He started the water, making sure it was nice and warm. Then he went into your cabinets to retrieve the Epsom salt and bubble bath to add to the water. The room started to fill with steam and the scent of lavender. You looked over at Bucky and smiled, he reached for your hand and guided you to sit in front of him in the tub. You let out a sigh of relief as you slid into the hot water, muscles relaxing as you lean back against him.

“That’s it. I’ve got you.” Bucky praised.

“Thank you bub.” You whispered, closing your eyes.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. Arms wrapping tighter around your middle.

“I love you baby. Promise you’ll tell me if you start feeling down again?” He says, nuzzling his nose at the base of your neck.

“I love you Buck. And I promise.”

The two of you stay in the bath until the water becomes tepid. Bucky has to rouse you, so you don’t slip down into the water further as he removes himself from behind you. Once freed, he bends down to scoop you out of the tub, settling you on the towel that awaits on the counter. He bundles you up in the warmth of the fabric, drying you off carefully. He looks in your expectant eyes and lets you know he needs to go change the sheets. Unbeknownst to you he had thrown them in the dryer when he went to grab your towels before the bath.

He had been gone for a bit, so you hopped off the counter, making your way to the bedroom only to see him placing a tray on the freshly made bed. On it were two glasses of water, some cut up berries and a piece of buttered toast. Tears sprung to your eyes as you took in the sight.

“Ah, doll, I was going to come and get you!” He explained.

“Sorry bub. This is all so sweet.” You sniffled.

He slowly made his way to you, pulling you into his arms. He kisses the top of your head before removing your towel and pulling one of his t-shirts over your head. He walks the two of you over to the bed and you notice the bottle of wound care on the side table.

“Can you lay on your stomach for me doll?” He pleads.

You nod and do as you’re told, laying down and sliding the t-shirt up to expose your raw skin. Bucky is careful in his movements trying not to agitate the skin any further as he rubs the cream into your skin. He leans down to press a kiss to your hip. He scoots up a bit and moves to your wrists, gently massaging them as well, wanting to ensure they also get attention after having been bound. As he rights your positions to cuddle with one another up at the headboard, he feeds you the snacks he brought and makes a promise to spend the next few days by your side.

“Bub you don’t have to do that.” You explained.

“No doll. I’ll do things right this time.” He promised.