#I don’t think I ever told someone that or can ever do it it’s just too dehumanizing

[kdollikesthighs]

Bedroom warfare: part 1

Itzy Yuna x m reader A/N: Angst, smut is for the next part! Word count: 2,434 words.

You’re looking forward to this. A rare night off, some drinks, catching up with your best friend, and finally meeting the girl who has him acting like she hung the very stars in the sky. He talks about her constantly, non-stop bragging. How she’s different, how she keeps him on his toes. You can’t remember the last time he was this into someone, so yeah, needless to say you were curious.

The roads are getting bad, snow already piling along the curbs. You should’ve come earlier, but fuck it, you made it.

You step up to the door, stomp the snow off of your boots and knock twice before letting yourself in. The second you touch the handle, time stops. The cold hits you, but it's a different kind of cold from the snow. A voice in your head screams that opening this door will certainly lead to doom.

The feeling is so sharp, so visceral, you freeze.

A warning.

You ignore it. This is ridiculous. Staying outside any longer might actually make you freeze. You push the door open.

And then you see her. The voice was right.

Yuna. 

She’s curled up on the couch, leaning casually into the cushions like she’s not a demon wearing human skin. Like she hasn’t detonated a nuclear bomb just by existing in this room. There’s no flicker of shock on her face, no moment of hesitation. Just a perfectly practiced smile as she glances up at you, eyes alight with smug confidence and feigned warmness. She was prepared.

“Hey, man!” Your friend’s voice cuts through your brain’s searching for an escape route as he claps a hand on your shoulder. “Glad you made it. Roads are getting bad out there.”

“Yeah,” you manage.

Your friend smiles that big, dumb smile of his, completely oblivious to the way Yuna’s gaze hooks into yours like a knife. “Come in, man. Get comfortable.”

You step forward on autopilot, hanging your coat by the door like you’ve done hundreds of times. Yuna watches without a single crack in her facade, her body language relaxed, deliberate. As if she’s making sure you understand—play along. Do not fuck this up.

“This is Yuna,” your friend continues, gesturing proudly. “Babe, this is my best friend. The one I told you about.”

The one she already knew. The one whose hands were once all over her, whose voice whispered filth into her ear, whose name she moaned as he took each hole of hers as his, whose life she set on fire and walked away from without looking back.

Yuna smiles, tilting her head just slightly. “Nice to finally meet you.”

The fucking nerve on her.

Emotions swell inside you, a festering wound ripping open, but your face doesn’t betray it. You match her smile with an empty one of your own. “Yeah. Likewise.”

You sit across from them, forcing yourself to ignore the way she’s curled into his side, the way his hand rests on her thigh like a claim. It’s all too much.

Your friend, completely unaware of the hurricane tearing through the room sweeping up only you and Yuna, leans back with a content sigh. “She’s incredible, man. Like, seriously. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like her.”

Yuna meets your gaze, and you’d have died if looks could kill, then smiles at your friend. “You exaggerate too much.”

“Not even,” he laughs. “I told him you were different. I mean, look at you.”

You do. She stares back at you. Right at you. Like she’s daring you to say something.

You force a smirk. “Yeah. I’m happy for you.”

The night stretches on, a slow suffocation wrapped in forced pleasantries and underlying malice.

Yuna brushes past you as she walks to the kitchen, her nails grazing your wrist just enough to feel like a scratch. It’s intentional, a silent reminder that she can still reach beneath your skin whenever she wants.

You let your expression remain neutral, but when she returns and settles beside your friend, you decide to push back. You swirl your drink in hand, voice casual but with deadly precision. “You ever think about loyalty?”

Your friend laughs, oblivious. “Deep question, man. What, you been betrayed by someone?”

Yuna knows. Her grip on her boyfriend’s hand tightens, her jaw flexing for the briefest second before she smooths it over with a small, cutesy sound. “Is that something you’re struggling with?”

A sharp retort, coated in molten sugar.

You grin, eyes transfixed on hers, where her soul would be if she had one. “Nah. Just thinking about how rare it is these days.”

She tilts her head unimpressed, expression unshaken by your taunt. “Guess it depends on who you’re with.”

Your friend laughs again, oblivious to the daggers flying inches from his head. “Damn, this is getting deep for a casual night.” Bless his stupid heart.

Yuna goes on to laugh a little too hard with one of your friend’s jokes, her fingers running over his arm as she throws a glance your way. It’s like she wants you to know. See? I can be happy without you.

While your friend isn’t looking and off to get another drink, you lean in slightly, whispering just loud enough that only her ears catch it. “So how long will it be before you cheat on him, too?”

Yuna’s smile doesn’t waver, but her eyes flicker with something dark. “Didn’t know you were still this bitter. Having a hard time getting over me?”

Your friend is none the wiser, sipping his drink and rambling on about something you aren’t even listening to. He doesn’t see the silent war happening right as he returns, doesn’t feel the tension stretching thin enough to snap.

And Yuna? She sits there, composed, graceful, effortlessly charming. Like she hasn’t spent the entire night digging her nails into old wounds just to watch them bleed.

You can’t wait for this night to end.

Your friend’s phone buzzes against the coffee table, cutting through the forced, suffocating conversation. A moment of relief. He barely looks at the screen before answering.

“Hello?”

A pause. His expression shifts. It’s subtle at first, then tightening with concern.That big, dumb smile evaporates.

“What? When?”

Yuna straightens beside him, her fingers curling slightly on her lap. You watch the way her entire body goes rigid, instinctively responding to the shift in energy. The room tilts, like the balance of power is about to change. A ceasefire is called, as your common concern grows ever more concerned.

Your friend exhales sharply and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. No, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He hangs up, already moving towards the door.

“I have to go,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter. “It’s my mom. She’s in the hospital.”

Yuna blinks. “Oh my god?”

The snowstorm outside has only gotten worse, and the roads are probably a nightmare. You’re sure he knows that, but there’s no hesitation in his movements. You can’t blame him, you’d be much the same. He’s already halfway to the door, shoving on his coat.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says, then glances between you and Yuna. “You two will be fine, right?”

Like hell you will.

No. No, you won’t be fine. Not alone. Not with her. Anything but that.

You clear your throat. There’s not enough time for an excuse, and you’d feel even worse using one in this situation. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, man.”

He frowns, halfway into pulling on his other sleeve. “What? Are you serious?”

“The roads are bad. You shouldn’t be out in this. Or I could come with you?”

“It’s my mom,” he says, like that explains everything. And in a way, it does.

You swallow any goodness you have left in yourself, attempting one final protest. “Still—”

“Please, stay here, just in case something happens. Yuna doesn’t know what to do if the power goes out. It’d make me feel more at ease.”

If only he knew half of it. But this is not the time to be selfish. He’s your best friend.

Your jaw tightens. Yuna doesn’t react, doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a damn thing. She doesn’t need to. Everything she wanted to say, you already did. She wants you nowhere near her. But your friend was right. This was the better solution.

Your friend claps a hand on your shoulder. “Just stay, alright? Keep each other company.”

You nod in reluctant agreement. “Yeah. Sure.”

And just like that, he’s gone. The door slams behind him.

A rotten silence taints the air.

The performance shatters instantly.

The false smiles, the polite distance—it’s all destroyed the second his car pulls out of the driveway.

You exhale sharply, rubbing a hand over the back of your neck as you peered over to Yuna. “Fucking hell.”

Yuna scoffs, her arms crossed. “Yeah, I’m not happy about this either.”

She walks past you, and you hate that you recognize every little sway, tilt and strut her body makes. The controlled tension in her shoulders, the barely concealed hostility humming in her eyes. She’s coiled tight, inches away from snapping.

You don’t give her the satisfaction of speaking first. If anything you’d prefer to just sit in silence, minding your own business until your buddy is back.

“Guess it’s just us now.” She laughs. Fuck. So far for silence. It’s sharp, bitter. Venomous. “Like old times.”

Your hands clench at your sides. “Not fucking funny.”

Yuna turns to face you fully, her lips curling into something devious. “Never said it was.”

A charged tension crackles between you, thick with unresolved filth. You can’t look at her without the memories flooding back. The way she felt beneath you as you pounded her down to where she belonged. The way she used to moan your name, confessing her filthy desires and so-called love. The way she made you feel like the only person worthy of her in the whole world—before she tore it all apart.

And yet, despite it all, despite your veins burning with hatred, you can feel it. You know she’s thinking the same thing. Seeing the same memories.

The past isn’t dead between you. Far from it. It’s alive, thrashing, screaming, demanding to be acknowledged.

Yuna tilts her head, breaking your introspection. She’s studying you like a bug nailed to the wall. “You look like you want to say something.”

You exhale sharply. She’s wrong. You don’t want to say something. You want to stay silent. You have to say something. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then fucking say it.”

Your hands tighten into fists, your venomous glands activating. “You cheated on me.”

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look guilty. Just crosses her arms and raises a brow. “Yeah. I did.”

The sheer lack of remorse in her voice sends you over the edge. You expect her to at least soften, to at least pretend like it wasn’t that bad, saving her own skin. But she doesn’t. She stands in it, owns it, like she’s daring you to throw it in her face. Daring you to do something.

She knows just how to press your buttons. It never works out in your favor, but you bite back.

“And yet I’m still the villain?”

Yuna steps forward, voice razor-sharp, knowing exactly what you’d say. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, right. I forgot. Because you think what I did was worse.”

She doesn’t agree, and the snap in her scowl all but confirms it. “It was.”

You step closer too, closing the distance between you until there’s barely a foot between your bodies. She won’t get the best of you. “You spread your legs for another guy, Yuna.”

“And you turned me into some sex trophy to fucking show off,” she spits.

She’s right, both your words serving as the flame used to light a fuse burning toward an explosion neither of you cares to stop.

Yuna’s voice drops lower, more venomous. “You think fucking me over behind my back was okay? At least I had the decency to keep it private. At least I didn’t—” She cuts herself off, centering herself before continuing. She knows her strikes will land harder if she’s calm to deliver them. “Do you have any idea how it felt?”

You don’t respond. You can’t respond, and she doesn’t stop.

“I found out months later,” she says, voice quieter now, but no less dangerous. “Randomly. Just—stumbled across a conversation between you and your drinking buddies. ‘Look at her tits, isn’t she fucking unreal?’” Her eyes are burning now, the reflection of the impending explosion clearer than ever. “And they agreed. Told you how fucking lucky you were. All while I had no idea you were passing those pictures around like a fucking trophy.”

She had you dead to rights, but you didn’t care. “I was drunk.”

Her laugh is pure ice. Unamused and willing to kill. “Oh, fuck you.”

You began forming something that barely resembles an excuse. Against your better judgement. “I didn’t think—”

“That’s the fucking problem,” she snaps, stepping forward until she’s practically in your space. “You never thought. You never cared.”

You snapped back, your version of the truth different from hers. “That’s not true.”

Her head tilts again. It’s her tell for being in disbelief, her eyes dark. “Isn’t it?”

Silence. You wanted it not long ago, but now it’s suffocating.

You don’t have an answer.

Or maybe you do, but you don’t want to say it. Maybe there is some truth to you being an asshole.

Yuna scoffs at your lack of response, then turns away. You expect her to storm off, to put as much distance between you as possible, but she doesn’t. Instead, she walks to the counter, grabs the bottle of whiskey sitting there, and pours herself a bottom. She knocks it down without effort.

You frown, knowing what kind of omen this was. “Drinking already? That’s a bad idea.”

She scoffs, pouring herself another. “Yeah, you’re famous for being good with alcohol.”

You don’t respond to her accusation. There’s no point. What she did was worse anyway. “Alcohol makes you messy.”

She smirks bitterly, raising her glass in mock salute before taking a slow, deliberate sip. “Yeah?” Her eyes drift to yours, heavy-lidded and absolutely unimpressed. “And whose fault is that?”

You don’t answer.

Because you both know exactly whose fault it is.

And now, there’s nothing left between you but impending destruction. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’, it was a matter of ‘when’.

[deckedcards]

. . . R U MINE?

──── ❝ and satisfaction feels like a distant memory ╱ all I wanna ever say is, "are you mine?" ❞

⌗ PAIRING: suguru niragi x male! reader

⌗ SUMMARY: people can’t fall in love with their fuck buddies, that’s the number one rule. too bad (name) sucks at following them.

⌗ THIS WORK INCLUDES . . . lowercase intended, third person pov, no borderlands au, implied school au, angst?, established relationship, secret “relationship,” friends with benefits, implied bisexual niragi, gullible reader, niragi has a girlfriend, his girlfriend is oblivious to everything, cheating, making out, mentions of sexual content, suggestive content, niragi uses reader, reader is smitten for niragi, one-sided love, reader is treated like an object, niragi kinda hates his girlfriend, reader refuses to accept that he’s being used, possible grammar and wording mistakes ❨ not proof read ❩

⸺ SOFT HANDS roamed around (name)’s bare torso as his mouth collided into niragi’s. cringing at the feeling of mixed warm saliva as their tongues tied together like string, wrists caught in niragi’s grip ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his head being pressed against the hard wall.

this was starting to become a regular occurrence between the two. (name) doesn’t remember how this “relationship” started in the first place, the only thing that passed in his mind were memories of him being fucked dumb over and over again. the embrace of fuzziness entering his brain at every waking feeling of niragi and his touch, parts of his body were still painted with hickies and faded teeth marks.

tears entered his eyes as niragi shoved his tongue farther down his throat, gagging as he pushed him away struggling to catch his breath when multiple coughs exited his throat. niragi tisked wiping at his bottom lip to tear off any extra saliva that wet it, “too rough?”

he shook his head repeatedly, “no, no—“ (name) coughed bringing his hand up to soothe at his adams apple, “it’s just… you always forget i don’t have the best gag reflex, it’s almost like you’re starting to do this on purpose?”

a slight laugh left niragi, the sound of him seething followed after putting his hands to rest inside his pockets, “so? if that matters so much to you.. maybe i’ll just go back to kanon, i don’t recall her ever complaining.”

(name) whipped his eyes towards the man, small glares were sent his way as he straightened his back, “no—no, you wouldn’t…” he whined, “you told me i was better than her, that she couldn’t do anything that i did—niragi please…don’t joke about stuff like that!” niragi raised an eyebrow as his eyes darkened, a smirk washed over his face as he smashed his lips back onto (name)’s, loud pecks filling the claustrophobic closet.

niragi dragged his hands down to rest ontop of the others waistband, pulling off abruptly watching as (name) followed after his lips for another kiss, “then quit talking, you’re body can already tell me what it needs.”

(name) zipped his lips into a thin line, nodding his head so much to the point of almost giving himself whiplash. the signals made niragi tug down (name)’s pants, cold air spreading goosebumps around his skin once he felt his legs being exposed.

the air around them increased in its temperature with all of their movements. muffled moans and whimpers echoed around the duo. aroused cries filled niragi’s ears, his puffed lips pressed fresh love bites onto any fading ones that were on (name)’s skin. his gaze was focused onto the slightly ajar door that let light into the dark area. the thought of someone catching the two sent heat to his core, images of his bitchy girlfriend standing there rushed through his head. hoping that this event would finally make her consider breaking things off.

thinking of her running after him after he went missing for an entire hour only to find him fucking someone better than he ever did with her. her shocked facial expression as she caught him playing with his fucktoy, the quiet boy that only hung around with one person everyday. the boy that always stuck to himself and never once involved himself in bigger crowds, preventing any type of attention being drawn to him.

maybe that’s why niragi always used him so much? the less popular the person, the less anyone will act suspicious of them when they disappear for multiple times on the regular. sounded like a solid plan to him, besides its not like he actually cared about (name). all of those missed calls on his phone from his number, the degrading things he’d say but smooth over once he flashed his pretty face in (name)’s vision.

finding someone like him wasn’t so easy, it was hard to have someone as gorgeous like niragi. always telling him he should be grateful that he even gave him a chance, if not then he would’ve probably been spending his weekends drowsed on his bed. staring at nothing but his wall and leaving his empty phone deserted somewhere, begging for at least one person to text him to hang out. but no worries about that anymore, it’s a good thing niragi was only just a few calls away. what a hero, am i right?

eyes connecting with someone elses broke him out of his drunken daze. a figure stood there in the gap, some girl with long light brown hair and blunt bangs had her eyes wide at the scene. the phone in her hand vibrated in her grasp as the air she was breathing in stopped, seeing someone like this was definitely an interesting sight to behold.

her neck crained itself forward, forcing her numb legs to move as she walked away. hoping the graphic image of two people fucking would whisp away from her mind as quick as possible.

a smirk plastered itself on niragi’s lips, not letting the slight intrusion to prevent him from his actions on (name)’s body, continuing his work as he quickened the pace of his movements. well, maybe it wasn’t the person he was expecting… but, at least he got what he wanted in a way.

“you have to be careful with someone like him.”

(name) steered his eyes to the girl sat behind him, his one and only friend yuna. a worried look was on her face as she stared at him. the phone in his hand was buzzing, she knew exactly who he was trying to call. “you never know what’s gonna happen when you’re little ordeals get exposed, he’s not someone you can trust.”

he rolled his eyes rubbing his thumb against niragi’s contact again once it had gone to voicemail for the twelfth time now. the sound was starting to irritate yuna’s eardrums as she crossed her arms against her chest, “you don’t know what you’re talking about yun. he’s a nice guy, really, you just don’t know him like i do.”

the affection in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by her as she stood up. her rough hand grabbed his arm as irritation glossed over her eyes, “no, you don’t know what you’re talking about. it’s bad enough that i caught you doing it in a supply closet but—“ the event she caught yesterday afternoon made itself apparent in her head again. catching her best friend getting fucked wasn’t something she’d ever thought she’d have to witness with her own two eyes, but him getting fucked by suguru niragi was what made her more worried than anything.

“what’ll happen once his girlfriend finds out, huh? the power she has here can ruin your reputation in an instant. being involved with niragi is one thing but thinking that he’s doing this out of love for you is another. (name) i beg, open your eyes, please. this won’t end well i can assure you.” her monologue went empty as he furrowed his brows, shaking his bicep away from her grasp his face filled with nothing but anger.

“you’re wrong.” he spat, looking down back to the screen of his device as he stared at all the missed calls that flooded his phone, “he cares about me… i know he does. he just—doesn’t know how to express it well.”

yuna scoffed at him, hearing the sounds of chatter in the courtyard filling her hearing. ears picking up a distinctive voice before grabbing (name)’s arm once again, “does he?” she said dragging him over to the edge of the balcony they hung around in. pointing her index finger to one of the people infront of them. niragi stood there, arm wrapped around his so-called girlfriend, flaunting her around as he made conversation with a peer. the two laughing watching as she blushed and waved her hand at something he said.

“someone who ‘cares’ about you, doesn’t go around showing off another girl and ignoring all of your messages.” she says enhancing the venom in all of her words, “he’s not yours (name), and you’re not his. so stop treating him like he is and finally realize what’s going on infront of you.”

a stoic expression was painted on (name)’s face. his vision felt blurry, the sensation of tears was threatening to spill out as he bit his lip. watching as kanon pressed kisses to his cheek and the way her friend cooed at them, seeing her mouth ‘you two are so cute together!’ only made it worse for him.

he knew niragi would never let him do the same thing to him, a toy is what he was to him. one that he would throw out once he got bored with him. there was nothing romantic that would ever come out of their relationship, nothing. they were fuck buddies, thats it. there would never be anything more or less than that. (name) refused to acknowledge this at his own expense, getting rid of someone who made him feel wanted for once in his life didn’t sit right with him.

“pick who you wanna love (name). it’s either you or niragi.” yuna’s sentence imprinted onto him, moving her figure to grab the bag that sat on the bench a few feet away from them before walking away. her hand trudging through her hair as she left him with his thoughts, the faint feeling of a vein popping itched at her forehead.

(name) stood flat against the railing, hands shaking. the grip on his phone was loosening as he bore holes into niragi’s head, eye twitching. pressing the sides of his phone to turn it on, the photo he saved as his wallpaper of the two of them was mocking him the moment he grazed it with his eyes. one he had taken the morning after one of their sessions, (name) snuck a picture of niragi sleeping on his side as he leaned against him. the dumb smile that was molded onto his face didn’t help how he was feeling, the sense of stupidity was drowning him. “he loves me, he just.. doesn’t know how to express it...”

how long was he gonna keep telling himself that? he knew that not everybody was worthy of feeling love. especially, someone that was like him.

© @deckedcards 2025 all rights reserved ☆ please do not repost, translate or share my work on other platforms without my permission, thank you.

[stollengoods]

The Longer the Wait, The Sweeter the Kisses

Requested Nam-gyu Fluff~

Warnings: Cursing, slight smut but not much (they don’t go all the way), mentions of drug use, overdose, and recovery.

Summary: Your friend Mi-na is tired of you third wheeling her and Thanos so she has him set you up on a date with his friend Nam-gyu. Surprisingly you and Nam-gyu really hit it off. So much so you invite him to your place, but what happens when you guys start making out/touching each other and you inform him that you won’t go all the way ?

P.S. This one’s a bit long… I apologize I got carried away haha

————

Thanos and Mi-na were cuddling on the couch while you were sitting in the arm chair beside them. He booped her nose with a blue colored finger nail, “You’re so cute.”

She giggled touching her forehead to his, “You’re so handsome.”

“And I so want to kill myself right now.” You murmured, scrolling through your phone.

In the background you saw Mi-na’s head turn towards you. “I told you it was just gonna be Thanos and I this weekend. You’re the one who invited yourself, remember ?”

You scrolled mindlessly on Instagram, “Yeah, but I didn’t think you guys would be like this.”

“It’s called being in a relationship.” She remarked and you snorted, “Gosh, thats what I have to look forward to ?”

“I used to think that way too until I met my soul mate.” You heard their lips smacking and immediately felt sick.

“Ewww, if I ever get like that shoot me. Please.”

Thanos chuckled and your friend giggled rolling her eyes, “When are you going to get a boyfriend y/n ? You’re old enough to drink why don’t you go to the bar and find one, you’ll get one asap.”

“Yeah… there are several reasons why I would never do that, plus I think what you’re describing is a hook up not a boyfriend.”

She huffed, “Well maybe you need a hookup, you’re like always a negative nancy.”

You looked up from your phone and glared at her for a second before looking back at your screen.

“See ! That’s what I’m talking about.” Mi-na said.

“Oh !” She put a hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder, “Baby, why don’t you set her up with one of your friends ?”

You immediately clicked your phone screen off and shoved it in your pocket, “Fuck no.”

Thanos looked over at you confused and Mi-na furrowed her eyebrows at you and tilted her head towards Thanos basically telling you your being rude.

You awkwardly laughed, “I’m sorry, that came out wrong… it’s just I’ve seen Thanos’s instagram. All him and his friends do is drugs, drink, and party. That’s not my scene, I need someone more-“

You were about to say mature but bit your tongue, “-what’s the word I’m looking for… umm- mellow I guess ?”

Thanos nodded his head in understanding, “Everyone has there preferences.” He shrugged.

“What about Nam-gyu ?” Mi-na asked Thanos with a smile on her face, “Didn’t he just make 3 months sober ?”

Thanos raised his eyebrows, “Oh yeah, I guess I do have a mellow friend.”

“He’s an ex addict ?” You asked, not very surprised since it is Thanos’s friend.

“Yup, he almost died of a heroine overdose a few months back and has been clean from drugs and drinking ever since.” He grinned, “I’m proud of him.”

“I’m sorry did you say- Heroine ??”

Thanos nodded, “Yeah, I’m surprised heroine was the one that got to him. He was on all sorts of things: cocaine, ecstasy-“

Mi-na put both her hands on his shoulders, “Alright babe, he can fill her in, you don’t have to give her his whole backstory.” She raised her eyebrows at him and you knew that look too well, she was basically telling him to stop talking. “You’ll scare her off before she even goes on the date.”

“Yeah because if there’s nothing better than an addict, it’s a recovering one.” You muttered.

She crossed her arms, “Okay, so now he’s too mellow ?”

“No.” You narrowed your eyes at her, “I would love someone who doesn’t drink or do drugs but Mi-na he’s in recovery.”

“And ?”

“And ?! What if he relapses ? I don’t want to be somebody’s mom.” You spat, crossing your arms as well.

Mi-na pulled out her phone, “I think you’ll change your mind once you see a picture of him. He’s really cute.” She glanced over at her boyfriend, “I’m saying in the sense that she would find him cute, I know her type pretty well by now.”

She tossed her phone to you, “He’s the one in the white t-shirt.”

“Oh yeah, I recognize him, he’s the one that’s always holding onto Thanos whenever Thanos posts pictures of him and his friends.”

“He’s not always holding on to me ?”

You turned the phone so they could see the screen, “Dude he’s literally hugging your arm and his head is resting on your shoulder.”

Thanos looked at the phone, “It was cold that day.”

Mi-na laughed grabbing her phone, “Anyways, he’s single, sober, and cute. He’s perfect for you y/n.”

You pursed your lips, you were pretty lonely. You had friends but they all had partners which made it hard for you to hang out unless you wanted to third wheel like you are now.

“I mean… he is kind of cute I guess.”

Mi-na shrieked, “Yay ! Thanos will send him your number.” She kissed her boyfriend on the cheek and clapped her hands in excitement, “If this works out, we could even go on double dates !”

————

You and Nam-gyu had texted back and forth for a few days now, planning to have your first date this weekend. You suggested getting coffee and Nam-gyu loved the idea saying that he knows the perfect spot and sent you the address.

Once there, you spotted him sitting down. “Hey Nam-gyu right ?”

He looked up from his phone and smiled, quickly putting it away. “Yes and you must be y/n.” He stood up and gave you a friendly hug.

You felt yourself blushing from the contact, you knew he was touchy feely with Thanos but figured it was because they were friends.

He smelled of the ocean mixed with amber and you could tell from how healthy the ends of his hair looked he recently got a haircut.

“You’re going to love this place. It has everything: coffee, teas, desserts. It’s amazing.”

When you guys got to the front, the cashier asked what you guys wanted. Nam-gyu answered it fairly quickly, not giving your eyes much time to scan the menu above you.

After the cashier entered his order she looked at you, “umm-“ You made eye contact with Nam-gyu, “What would you recommend ? I’m more of a coffee person but there’s so many options.”

“Hmm… do you like your coffee more on the bitter or sweet side ?”

“Sweet.”

He smiled, “Then I’d suggest their Carmel Macchiato. It’s sounds boring, I know, but for your first time being here I’d start with that, it’s really good.”

You nodded your head and turned your attention back to the cashier, “I’ll get a small Carmel Macchiato please.”

“Okie dokie.” She typed in your order and then smiled while reading out your total.

Nam-gyu pulled out a twenty dollar bill and told her to keep the change, “Thank you.” She said, “We’ll call your order out when it’s ready.”

You guys walked over to a table and sat down across from each other, “Thank you for buying my coffee.” You blushed.

“Oh yeah of course.”

You rubbed your hands together under the table feeling them sweat. You haven’t been on a date in a while and have never had an actual boyfriend before so this was all new to you.

“How did you and Thanos meet ?” You asked, trying to ease your nerves by getting him to talk.

“I used to work at this club downtown and the owner of the club would always let him come in for free because it would attract more people to his club. After a while of being there, Thanos and I got familiar with each other and one day he asked me if I knew anybody who sold drugs. I hooked him up with one of my buddies and we started doing them together, the rest is history.”

You weren’t expecting him to be such an open book but felt yourself slowly becoming more comfortable around him, he seemed like a chill guy.

“One Americano and one Carmel Macchiato.”

“That’s us.” Nam-gyu said, he went over to the counter and grabbed your coffees. When he came back he handed you your drink and you thanked him.

“You wanna go take a walk ?” He asked.

“Sure.” You grinned, following him outside.

You actually preferred this, walking side by side instead of sitting down and looking at each other face to face. It took a lot of the pressure off and you found yourself talking a lot more than you thought you would.

He told you about his battle with addiction and how it nearly killed him. You felt bad for judging him so harshly when Thanos and Mi-na told you about it.

Getting his side of the story made you realize that he wasn’t just a a sleazy guy who drank and did drugs to have fun, he had past trauma that he was dealing with. Now that he’s sober, he told you he’s found better ways to cope like going to therapy and exercising.

He finished his drink first, throwing it away and a few minutes later you finished yours, throwing it in a trash bin as well.

You only knew him for about 30 minutes but already felt safe with him, like he was a long time friend.

“So…” you stopped walking and finally faced him making eye contact, “What now ?” You asked with a smile.

He returned the smile, “I really enjoyed our date and would like to continue it but it’s up to you. We can hang out another time if you’re busy.”

It was weird, you felt special for the first time in a while and that excited you. You didn’t want this date to end anytime soon either.

You bit your lip, “I had fun too.” You said, rocking back and forth a bit. “Would it be odd of me to ask you to hang out at my place ?”

“No, not at all.”

————

When you got to your place, Nam-gyu removed his jacket and you told him he could hang it up on the coat rack. He wore a brown tank top underneath his jacket and, every now and then, you caught yourself stealing glances of his veiny arms; and at the way the material would outline his chest and abdomen.

You guys continued chatting on the couch as you guys tried to find something to watch on Netflix. You ended up settling on a comedy that neither of you have seen yet.

He clicked a button to play the movie, setting the remote down on the arm rest next to him and then threw his other arm over the couch.

A thought popped into your head of scooting over and leaning into his side, but you knew that would be kind of weird. Then again, it seems that Nam-gyu’s love language is physical contact so maybe he wouldn’t mind ?

You casually scooted yourself over and Nam-gyu’s head turned. You looked up to meet his eyes, “Is this okay ?” You asked, scooting into his side and placing a hand on his chest.

He nodded, “Yeah I don’t mind.” His hand dropped to around your shoulders as he went back to watching the movie.

You tried watching the movie as well, you really did but all you could think about was his body against yours. The heat radiating off of him made you want to snuggle into him more like a weighted blanket.

Half way through the movie, you were able to concentrate on the plot a little bit, until Nam-guy’s thumb began rubbing back and forth on your arm. It was a simple gesture and you were pretty sure he was doing it unconsciously but it made the inside of your stomach fill with butterflies.

When the movie was over, Nam-gyu looked over at you. “It was alright, I thought it was kind of funny, how about you ?”

You turned and made eye contact with for a split second before licking your lips and attaching them to his. You were surprised by your hunger for him and you could tell he was shocked as well by the way he didn’t react for a few seconds.

When he reciprocated the kiss, you positioned your body on top of his. Your knees on either side of his legs, as your hands went to his hair.

His hands made their way to your hips pulling you closer into him and you moaned. Pulling away from him, you ripped your shirt off over your head, throwing it to the floor before reattaching your mouths.

His cold fingers snaked up your back, unclipping your bra. Once done, you threw it to the floor as well. One of his hands cupped your breast and you broke the kiss leaning your head against his.

“You okay ?” He whispered.

“Yeah.” You breathed, “But…”

He removed his hand from your breast, waiting for you to finish.

You sighed, “I know I’ve only known you for less than a day and I really like you.” You watched as your hands trialed down his chest, “And don’t get me wrong I really like what we have going on right now.”

You looked him in the eyes, he was smiling listening to you. “But I’m also not the kind of person to hook up with someone after just meeting them. I want to get to know you better before we get to that point.”

His hand cupped your face, caressing it with his thumb. “I respect that. Since my sobriety I’ve made a rule for myself as well, to not hook up with anybody unless we are dating. I’ve been doing good so far but I’ll be honest if you hadn’t stopped, I don’t think I would’ve stuck to it.” He blushed biting his lip.

You giggled, “I like that rule, I think I’ll adopt that as well.”

He smirked, “Does this mean cuddling is off the table too ?”

You rolled your eyes at his silly question, “Off course not.” You smiled before wrapping your arms around his neck and sinking into him. He interlocked his hands behind you while resting his head on your shoulder.

[cherryxbooo]

Helloooo hehe 🍒

Could you write a pedri fic where perdito and reader are both in college but he’s the popular kind and reader is quiet and almost invisible.

How at first she doesn’t wanna get involved but slowly warms up to him and start dating and her getting welcomed by his family.

Make it angst to fluff like real angst tho.

Whether you write this or not im grateful 💚

You make sense to me

Summary: Being introverted and choosing the background over the spotlight is already hard enough, let alone when the popular guy suddenly takes an interest in you.

Note: Thank you so much for your request! I decided to switch it up a bit and go from fluff to angst and obviously ending in fluff. Hope you like it! 🫶

Reader x Pedri

Genre: fluff/angst

University is a strange place.

It’s a world where people reinvent themselves, the loud get louder, and the quiet, like me, learn to live in the spaces between.

That’s how I’ve survived my first year at university, blending into the background.

I’m not a recluse, but I keep to myself.

I study, I go to class, I read in the corner of the library, and I go home.

No unnecessary interactions. No unnecessary attention.

That is, until he noticed me.

Pedri.

Everyone in our uni knows who he is. He’s that guy, the one with effortless charm, always surrounded by people.

Popular, not just because he’s good at football, but because he’s him. He moves through life with a kind of ease I can’t even imagine.

And yet, for some reason, he keeps looking at me.

I don’t get it. I don’t know what he sees.

At first, I ignore it. I convince myself I’m imagining things. But then, it happens again.

And again.

Until one day, he does more than just look.

It started off small.

"Hey," a voice says, casual but confident.

My highlighter sits on the page.

A thick streak of neon yellow bleeds over a sentence I was trying to mark, but my brain suddenly forgets how to function because someone is talking to me.

Slowly, very slowly, I turn my head.

He’s already sitting beside me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

A dark hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a grin that’s just a little too amused.

His presence feels loud, even though he’s not making any actual noise.

My first instinct? Escape.

My second? Stare.

I do both in rapid succession, my eyes flicking toward the exit, then warily back at him, as if assessing how much of a threat he poses.

He doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does, and just doesn’t care.

"...Hi?" I say, but it comes out more like a question than a greeting.

His grin widens, like this is completely normal.

Like we talk all the time.

“You’re in my psychology class, right?”

I blink at him. That’s what this is about?

I nod once, not trusting my voice, because I don’t know why he’s here, or what he wants, and I hate not knowing things.

He leans back in his chair, completely at ease.

His dark eyes scan the open book in front of me, then flick back up to my face.

“You’re quiet.”

I exhale slowly through my nose. No shit.

I don’t reply.

I just wait. People like him, people who talk first and think later, usually get bored when they don’t get the response they want.

Any second now, he’ll lose interest. Any second now—

"Like, really quiet," he continues, undeterred.

His chin rests on his palm, elbow propped on the table, as if he’s studying me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a full sentence.”

I resist the urge to sigh. Or groan. Or bang my head against the table.

Instead, I press my lips together and attempt to salvage my poor, over-highlighted page.

"Maybe because I don’t have anything to say."

He chuckles, low and warm, like I’ve just told some inside joke we both share.

Except we don’t.

“I don’t buy that,” he says.

I glance at him again, this time with actual irritation.

"Why do you care?"

His shoulders lift in an easy shrug, like he hasn’t even considered the question before.

“I don’t know. You’re interesting.”

I actually laugh. A small, startled sound that slips out before I can stop it.

Not because he’s right, but because that has to be the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.

"I’m not interesting," I say, shaking my head.

"You just don’t know me well enough to be bored yet."

His smirk deepens. "See? That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile."

I roll my eyes and refocus on my book.

"Congratulations. You’ve unlocked a new achievement."

He leans forward slightly, like I’ve just confirmed something for him. "So you can be sarcastic. Good to know."

I bite back another sigh. He’s not leaving. He’s settling in.

For a moment, I consider my options.

I could:

A) Ignore him until he gets the hint. B) Pack up my stuff and relocate to another part of the library. C) Say something so cold and blunt that he’ll regret ever sitting here.

I’m still debating when he speaks again.

"You always sit here," he muses.

I glance at him. "What?"

"In the library. Right here. This exact table." He tilts his head, thinking.

"You come in, you pull out your books, you highlight the hell out of your pages, and you don’t talk to anyone."

I stare at him, my pulse kicking up a notch.

"Have you been watching me?"

He shrugs, completely unapologetic. "More like... noticing."

"That’s the same thing."

"Not really," he counters, that lazy smirk still in place.

"Watching is weird. Noticing is just, paying attention."

I frown, my grip tightening on my highlighter.

"Why are you paying attention to me?"

He tilts his head, considering. "I don’t know. Maybe I like mysteries."

I scoff. "I’m not a mystery."

"Debatable."

I shake my head and focus very intently on my book.

But the problem is, I can still feel him there, his gaze lingering, his presence impossible to ignore.

And for the first time in forever, I feel seen.

I hate it.

Pedri doesn’t leave me alone after that.

At first, I tell myself it’s a coincidence.

A fluke.

That first conversation in the library? A one-time thing.

A moment of fleeting curiosity on his part.

But then it happens again. And again. And again.

It starts small.

A casual wave when he spots me across campus.

At first, I ignore it, assuming he’s greeting someone behind me.

But when I glance over my shoulder and see no one there, I realize, he’s waving at me.

I don’t wave back.

But that doesn’t stop him.

The next time, he adds a grin to it. The time after that, he calls my name, loud enough that people turn to look.

(Which, obviously, mortifies me.)

Then, there’s class.

He used to sit on the other side of the room.

I know this because I used to specifically sit where I wouldn’t have to be around too many people.

But one day, Pedri is suddenly there, dropping into the seat next to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like he’s always been there.

I glance at him, suspicious. He just shrugs, pulling out his notebook.

"Better view from here."

I don’t buy that for a second, but I also don’t argue.

And then there are the conversations.

Or, more accurately, the ones he forces me into.

"So, what’s your verdict on our professor? Secretly a vampire, or just really hates sunlight?"

"If you had to survive on only one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? And if you say something boring like ‘salad,’ I might actually cry."

"I bet you secretly have a list of people you’d commit crimes for. I respect it."

Some days, I ignore him completely.

Other days, his persistence wears me down, and I give in with a sigh.

"Pasta," I mumble one afternoon.

He blinks. "Huh?"

"If I had to survive on one food. Pasta."

His entire face lights up like I’ve just gifted him something.

"Yes! Solid answer. Now, important follow-up question: are we talking plain pasta, or are you a sauce person?"

I sigh again, but this time, it’s less annoying. Maybe even a little amused.

Just a little.

And that’s how it starts.

I don’t even realize it’s happening at first.

How, little by little, I stop avoiding him.

How my replies stretch from one-word answers to full sentences.

How my body relaxes when he shows up, instead of tensing like I used to.

How I catch myself looking for him in class before he even arrives.

I try to convince myself that it means nothing.

That it’s just habit. That he’s just there, and I’ve gotten used to it.

But habits don’t make my heart skip when I see him across the quad.

Habits don’t make me bite back a smile when he says something stupid.

Habits don’t make my chest ache in ways I don’t know how to handle.

And somehow—without me fully understanding how or when or why, we become friends.

Or something dangerously close to it.

And it terrifies me.

Because Pedri is warmth, and I am used to distance.

Because he is effortless, and I have spent my whole life trying to be untouchable.

Because the more time I spend with him, the more I feel.

And feelings?

Feelings are dangerous.

Then it started with an invitation,

A casual one. Like it’s no big deal.

"Hey, wanna grab lunch with me?"

I glance up from my book, blinking at Pedri like he just asked me to rob a bank with him.

"What?"

"Lunch," he repeats, standing beside my table with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

"You know, that thing people eat in the middle of the day?"

I roll my eyes. "I know what lunch is."

"Great. Then let’s go." He gestures toward the door like this is already decided.

I hesitate. "Why?"

"Because we both have to eat, and food is better with company," he says simply.

"And don’t say you weren’t planning to eat, because that would be tragic."

I chew on my bottom lip, searching for an excuse, any excuse, but nothing comes to mind.

Pedri doesn’t give me time to think too hard about it.

He reaches for my bag, lifting it from the table before I can protest.

"Come on," he says, grinning. "I promise not to bite."

I sigh, knowing I’ve already lost.

"Fine," I mumble. "But if this place is loud and crowded, I’m leaving."

He smirks. "Noted."

The restaurant he takes me to is small and tucked away, a quiet little place that somehow doesn’t feel overwhelming.

It’s warm inside, the air rich with the scent of fresh bread and spices.

There’s soft music playing in the background, and to my relief, no overwhelming crowd.

"See?" Pedri says as we step in. "Not too bad, right?"

I nod slowly. "It’s... nice."

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Told you I’d pick a good place."

We find a booth by the window, and for the first time, I feel oddly at ease.

We order our food, and somehow, Pedri keeps me engaged in conversation the entire time.

It’s easy. Effortless.

He talks about everything, his classes, his teammates, a hilarious story about how he once fell asleep in the middle of a Zoom lecture and got called out for it.

I laugh before I can stop myself.

He looks ridiculously proud of this accomplishment.

"You like my suffering," he accuses, eyes gleaming.

"I’m just impressed by your ability to sleep through an entire class," I tease.

Pedri gasps dramatically. "So she can joke. This is a breakthrough moment."

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.

We eat slowly, the conversation flowing without effort.

And it’s nice. Too nice.

Because for the first time in a long time, I feel something dangerously close to happy.

After lunch, Pedri suggests a walk.

I should say no. I should go back to my dorm, back to my safe space.

But instead, I find myself walking beside him, our steps slow and unhurried.

The campus is quieter now, the afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the trees. It feels peaceful.

We eventually find an empty bench near the park and sit down.

I exhale, tilting my head back slightly to feel the breeze on my skin.

Pedri watches me for a moment before speaking.

"You don’t let a lot of people in, do you?"

I glance at him. "That obvious?"

He shrugs. "I just notice things."

A beat of silence. Then—

"Why?" he asks softly.

I chew on the inside of my cheek. I don’t usually talk about this. I don’t talk about myself at all.

But with Pedri, it feels... safe.

"I like peace," I admit finally. "I like being quiet. Being unnoticed. It’s easier."

Pedri stays silent, waiting. Letting me talk.

I take a breath.

"People... they take up space. They expect things. They need things. And I—" I pause, searching for the right words.

"I don’t know how to be what people need. So I just don’t try. So I won't end up getting hurt."

Pedri listens carefully, nodding like he understands.

I look down at my hands.

"I spent so long blending into the background that I guess I forgot how to be anything else."

Pedri exhales softly. When he speaks, his voice is gentle.

"I get that," he says.

I glance at him, surprised.

He leans back against the bench, gazing up at the sky.

"You know, people always assume I like attention just because I’m popular. Because I’m always around people, always talking."

I nod slightly. He’s right. I did assume that.

"But the truth is," he continues, "I don’t care about any of that."

I frown. "Then why—"

"Why you?" He turns his head to look at me. "Why did I notice you?"

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.

Pedri smiles, but it’s softer this time. "Because you’re real."

I blink. "What?"

"Everyone else is so... loud," he says.

"Always trying to be something, trying to impress, trying to fit into whatever image they think they need to be."

He shifts slightly, his knee brushing against mine.

"But you? You’re just you," he murmurs. "And that’s rare."

My heart does something weird in my chest. I don’t like it.

Pedri studies my face for a moment, then sighs.

"Look, I know you like being on your own. I know you don’t trust people easily. And I get that. But..." He hesitates, then turns fully toward me.

"Give me a chance," he says.

I inhale sharply. "Pedri—"

"Just a chance," he insists.

"Let me prove to you that I’m not like everyone else. That I don’t just want something from you."

I bite my lip, staring at the ground.

"You scare me," I whisper.

He blinks. "Me?"

I nod. "Not in a bad way. Just... you make me feel things. And I don’t know how to handle that."

Pedri’s gaze softens, and he reaches out, hesitating for a second before lightly brushing his fingers against mine.

"You don’t have to handle it alone," he says gently.

"Let me in. Just a little."

I look at our hands, barely touching, then back at him.

His expression is so open, so earnest, that something in me cracks just a little.

Maybe just a little wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

I take a deep breath. Then, slowly, hesitantly, I nod.

Pedri smiles, squeezing my fingers lightly before pulling away, giving me space.

And for the first time, it doesn’t feel terrifying.

It happens gradually.

One moment, he’s just there, the way he always is, persistent, warm, impossible to ignore.

The next, he’s everywhere.

And suddenly, Pedri is mine.

Which is strange...

If you would've told me I would end up with the most popular guy of my uni, I would've straight up laughed in your face.

But, here we're... I guess.

It’s funny how quickly I get used to him.

To his presence, his warmth, the way he seamlessly fits into my life like he’s always been there.

And maybe it should scare me.

Maybe I should keep my distance, hold onto the walls I spent so long building.

But with Pedri, distance feels... impossible.

Because he refuses to be anything less than close.

It doesn’t take long for people to notice.

Because Pedri isn’t subtle. At all.

If anything, he seems to take genuine delight in shocking people.

Like the time we’re walking across campus, and he suddenly grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I freeze.

"Pedri—" I start, eyes darting around, but he just squeezes my hand.

"Relax," he murmurs, glancing down at me with a small smile.

"It’s just me."

I exhale slowly. It’s just him.

I tell myself to pull away, but I don’t.

And then I really regret it when I hear a group of students whispering nearby.

"Wait—are they holding hands?"

"No way. Pedri and y/n?"

"How did that even happen?"

I feel my entire face heat up, but Pedri? He doesn’t care at all.

If anything, he likes it.

Because the next day, when we’re sitting together in class, he casually reaches over and plays with my fingers under the desk.

Like it’s a habit.

Like he just wants to touch me.

"Pedri," I hiss quietly, trying to pull my hand away.

He smirks but tightens his grip. "You’re cute when you’re flustered."

I glare at him. "You’re annoying."

"And yet," he hums, "you still let me hold your hand."

Damn it.

Outside of school, it’s even worse.

Because Pedri doesn’t just want to see me in class, he wants to see me all the time.

"Are you free later?" he asks one afternoon.

I glance up from my notes. "Why?"

"Because I wanna see you," he says easily.

I blink. "You see me every day."

He grins. "Yeah, and?"

I sigh but don’t argue. Because, honestly?

I want to see him too.

Some nights, he comes over with zero warning.

Like when I’m sitting on my bed, fully prepared to spend my evening reading, and suddenly—

Knock, knock.

I groan, already knowing who it is.

When I open the door, Pedri is standing there with two cups of hot chocolate and a ridiculously pleased expression.

"You didn’t text me," I say, raising an eyebrow.

"Didn’t think I needed to," he says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

I sigh. "What if I was busy?"

He flops onto my bed, looking completely at home. "Then I’d just sit here and wait for you to be un-busy."

I shake my head, but my lips twitch. I hate how much I like this.

One day, we’re supposed to grab lunch, but it starts pouring out of nowhere.

Pedri and I sprint across campus, completely drenched by the time we duck into the nearest café.

I groan, wringing out my hoodie. "Well, this sucks."

Pedri grins, shaking water from his hair like a golden retriever.

"Nah. I kinda like it."

"You like being soaked?" I deadpan.

"No," he chuckles. "I like that it means I get to stay here with you longer."

And damn it, he means it.

I shake my head, trying to ignore the way my heart clenches.

We sit by the window, watching the rain while sharing a plate of fries.

Pedri drapes his hoodie over my shoulders because I’m still shivering, and when I glance at him, he just shrugs.

"What’s mine is yours, princesa."

I roll my eyes, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t go away.

One night, we’re lying on my bed, facing each other in the soft glow of my bedside lamp.

It’s quiet, comfortable.

Pedri reaches out, tracing lazy patterns on my wrist.

"You ever think about what would’ve happened if I never sat next to you that day?" he murmurs.

I blink. "What?"

"In the library," he says. "If I never sat down. If I never talked to you or approached you. What do you think would’ve happened?"

I think about it for a second. "I guess... nothing."

Pedri frowns slightly.

"You wouldn’t have noticed me," I explain. "And I would’ve kept living my life the way I always have."

His grip on my wrist tightens slightly. "That’s a terrible answer."

I laugh softly. "It’s the truth."

"Well, I hate it," he says.

I tilt my head. "Why?"

Pedri exhales.

"Because I can’t imagine my life without you now," he murmurs. "And I don’t want to."

My breath catches.

He’s staring at me with so much emotion, like I’m the most important thing in his universe.

"I meant what I said," he continues softly.

"I don’t care that you’re quiet. I don’t care that you like being in the background. I don’t care that people think we don’t make sense."

His fingers brush against my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You make sense to me," he whispers.

I don’t know what to say.

Pedri smiles slightly like he can hear all the things I’m too scared to say.

"You don’t have to say anything," he murmurs.

"Just, promise me you won’t push me away."

I swallow. "Pedri..."

"Please," he breathes. "Just let me love you."

My chest tightens, the weight of his words settling deep inside me.

But instead of answering, I reach for him, fingers threading through his hair as I pull him closer.

His lips meet mine, slow, soft, certain, and in that moment, I know.

I know that Pedri is different.

I know that I’ve already fallen for him.

And for the first time in a long time,

I don’t want to run.

It’s a normal day at school.

Or at least, it should be.

Except nothing is ever normal when you’re dating Pedri.

We’re sitting outside on one of the campus benches, a rare moment of peace in between classes.

I’m trying to eat my lunch, but Pedri, ever the distraction, is making that very difficult.

"You’re not even paying attention to me," he pouts, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Because I’m eating," I say, taking another bite of my sandwich.

"But I’m right here."

"And?"

"And I require attention."

I roll my eyes, but I can’t hide my smile.

Pedri grins, clearly pleased with himself.

He reaches up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, then lets his fingers trail down my arm before entwining our hands together.

"Better," he hums, like this was the missing piece of his day.

I shake my head but squeeze his hand anyway.

For a moment, it’s quiet, and comfortable, like it always is with him.

And then he drops a bombshell.

"So, I was thinking... you should come to my parents’ house this weekend."

I nearly choke on my drink. "Wait—what?"

"To my parents’ house," he repeats easily as if he’s asking me to grab a coffee, not meet his entire family.

"For dinner. Just something casual."

Casual?

Meeting his parents is casual?!

My brain short-circuits.

"Pedri, I—" I pause, exhaling. "That’s... a big step."

He tilts his head, studying me. "Is it?"

"Yes," I say, nodding vigorously.

"I mean, it’s your family. What if they don’t like me?"

Pedri immediately frowns, turning his entire body towards me.

"First of all, there’s literally no way they won’t like you."

I bite my lip, looking down at my hands. "You don’t know that."

"Yes, I do," he says firmly.

"You’re smart, and kind, and funny, and—" He pauses, squeezing my hand.

"And you make me happy. That’s all they need to know."

I feel my heart clench.

Damn him. Damn him and his words that make me weak.

I hesitate for a few more seconds before exhaling. "Okay... I’ll go."

His face lights up, and suddenly, I know I made the right choice.

"Good," he says smugly.

"Because if you said no, I was gonna beg."

I snort. "I would’ve made you suffer a little first."

"That’s mean."

"That’s justice."

Pedri grins, tugging me closer. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

That weekend, I stood in front of my mirror, stressing out.

What do you wear to meet your boyfriend’s parents?

I don’t want to be too formal and look like I’m trying too hard, but I also don’t want to look like I just threw on the first thing I found.

After way too much debating, I settle on something simple yet cute, just enough effort to look put-together.

And right on cue, my phone buzzes.

Pedri: I’m outside <3

I grab my bag, take a deep breath, and head out.

As soon as I open the door, I see him leaning against his car, arms crossed, a lazy grin spreading across his face the moment he sees me.

"Wow," he whistles, giving me an obvious once-over.

I shift on my feet, suddenly self-conscious. "What?"

"You look—" He pauses, stepping closer. "Beautiful."

My face heats up. "Shut up."

"I’m serious," he murmurs, eyes shining.

"My mom’s gonna love you even more now."

I roll my eyes but smile as he opens the car door for me.

As we drive, I feel the nerves creeping in again.

My hands rest stiffly on my lap, and I stare out the window, chewing on my lip.

Pedri notices immediately.

Without a word, he reaches over and takes my hand, intertwining our fingers.

"Breathe, princesa," he murmurs.

I exhale shakily. "I just don’t want to mess this up."

"You won’t."

"How do you know?"

Pedri lifts our joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.

"Because you’re you," he says simply.

And just like that, some of the nerves fade.

As soon as we arrive, Pedri barely has time to knock before the door swings open, revealing his mother.

"Hola, cariño!" she exclaims, pulling Pedri into a tight hug, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

He laughs, hugging her back. "Hola, mamá."

Then, her eyes land on me.

And suddenly, I forget how to breathe.

"And this must be y/n, the girl I’ve heard so much about," she says warmly, her gaze kind and curious.

I hesitate for a moment before stepping forward, offering a polite smile. "Hi, it’s really nice to meet you."

To my surprise, her face softens even more before she pulls me into a gentle hug.

"Oh, you’re adorable," she murmurs before pulling away.

"Come in, come in."

As we step inside, I glance at Pedri, who is smirking at me like he knew this would happen.

He leans down, whispering, "Told you she’d love you."

I glare at him, nudging him with my elbow, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t fade.

The house is warm and inviting, decorated with framed pictures of Pedri and his family.

Some are from his childhood, others more recent, like his love for football evident in every corner.

I take a moment to glance at one of the shelves, where several of his trophies and awards sit proudly.

"You’re staring, princesa," Pedri teases, nudging my shoulder.

"It’s just weird seeing your entire life displayed like this," I murmur.

Before he can reply, a deep voice cuts through the room.

"So this is the famous girl?"

I turn to see Fernando, Pedri’s older brother, leaning against the doorway with an amused expression.

"The one and only," Pedri says smugly, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

I shoot him a look but manage a polite smile. "It’s nice to meet you."

Fernando nods, eyeing Pedri. "Well, I have to say, I’m impressed. I thought you were just making her up."

I snort, while Pedri glares. "I hate you."

"Love you too, hermano."

His mother shakes her head, laughing. "Boys, enough. Let’s eat."

Dinner is incredible, and not just the food (which is honestly some of the best I’ve ever had).

Pedri’s mom made a full spread, and every bite tastes like it was cooked with love.

"This is amazing," I say, genuinely in awe.

His mom beams. "Thank you, cariño. Eat as much as you want."

"Careful," Fernando jokes. "She’ll try to adopt you if you say that too many times."

Pedri smirks. "Too late. She’s already mine."

I nearly choke on my drink.

His mother laughs while Fernando groans.

"God, you’re embarrassing."

Pedri shrugs, completely unfazed, squeezing my knee under the table.

Throughout the meal, his parents ask me questions, not in an overwhelming way, but enough to show that they’re genuinely interested in getting to know me.

His dad is quieter but still warm, occasionally chiming in with a question or a story about Pedri as a kid.

"Did he tell you he used to cry when he lost board games?" his dad asks, smirking.

I light up. "No, but I love that."

Pedri groans, slumping in his chair. "Why are we exposing me?"

"Because it’s fun," Fernando says, grinning.

I giggle, and Pedri shoots me a betrayed look.

"You’re supposed to be on my side," he mutters.

"I am," I say sweetly. "Just... not right now."

After dinner, I insist on helping with the dishes.

"Oh, no, cariño, you’re a guest," his mother says, waving me off.

"Please," I say, offering a small smile. "I want to help."

She eyes me for a moment before nodding. "Alright. But only because you asked so nicely."

As we stand by the sink, washing plates, she suddenly speaks up.

"You know," she starts, her tone thoughtful, "I wasn’t a fan of the other girls Pedri has dated."

I blink, glancing at her. "Oh?"

She nods, rinsing a dish.

"They only wanted him for his name and popularity. But you... you seem different."

I swallow. "I just like him for who he is."

She smiles softly. "I know. And that’s why I like you."

Something warm blooms in my chest.

"You’re good for him," she continues.

"He’s always been surrounded by people who want something from him. But with you? I see the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you."

She pauses, drying her hands before turning to face me.

"I can tell you care about him."

I nod, my throat feeling tight. "I do. A lot."

She smiles, patting my hand. "Then that’s all I need to know."

As we drive back, Pedri is grinning like an idiot.

"That went amazing," he says, eyes flickering to me.

"It did," I admit.

"See? You worried for nothing."

I sigh. "Yeah, yeah. You were right."

He gasps dramatically. "Wait, say that again?"

"I will never repeat it."

He laughs, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. "I’m proud of you, princesa."

I glance at him. "Why?"

"Because I know this wasn’t easy for you," he says softly.

"But you did it. And my mom loves you. My dad and Fernando too."

I bite my lip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he murmurs. "But more importantly, I love you."

My heart stops.

Pedri, realizing what he just said, suddenly tenses.

"Wait—" His eyes widen. "I mean—"

I laugh softly. "It’s okay, Pedri."

He swallows. "I just... I love you, okay? And I don’t care if that scares you. I’m not going anywhere."

I look at him, really look at him, and feel something inside me settle.

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I reach over, lacing my fingers with his.

"Drive, Pedri," I whisper.

He exhales, squeezing my hand. "I’ll wait for you, princesa. However long it takes."

And as we head home, I realize—

I don’t think it’ll take very long at all.

It was another boring uni day. A day full of back-to-back classes.

I’m in the library, stacking my books neatly into my arms, already mentally preparing for my next class.

My mind is quiet, calm, focused on anything but him.

Pedri had texted me this morning, telling me he had early practice and would see me later.

"Have a good day, princesa ❤️ Miss you."

I had smiled when I read it.

I shouldn’t have.

I adjust my grip on the books and turn toward the exit. Then I hear it.

Laughter. Loud voices.

At first, I don’t think anything of it. Until I hear my name.

I stop. My heart stutters.

I tell myself it’s nothing, that maybe I misheard, that maybe it’s just some random conversation.

But then a voice cuts through the noise, A voice I know better than anyone else’s.

His voice.

Pedri.

My stomach twists, my fingers tightening around the books as I take a cautious step forward.

The voices are coming from the hallway just ahead, around the corner.

I shouldn’t listen. I shouldn’t. But I do.

"Bro, you’re actually still with her?" one of his friends cackles.

"I swear I thought this was just a bet or some shit."

Pedri laughs.

That’s the first stab.

"Nah, man. No bet."

"Then what the fuck is it?" someone else scoffs. "There’s no way you’re actually into her."

Pedri lets out a low chuckle. "Come on, man. You really think I’d go for a girl like that?"

A girl like that.

"Exactly," another voice chimes in.

"She’s fucking boring, bro. Always sitting in the back, never talking, just reading like she’s in some old-ass novel or something. You could have literally anyone, why waste time on her?"

"It’s not like that," Pedri says easily. "She’s just… convenient."

The air leaves my lungs.

"Convenient?" one of his friends laughs. "What, like a little charity case?"

Pedri doesn’t deny it.

He fucking laughs.

"Nah, it’s just easy, you know?" he shrugs.

"She doesn’t ask for much. Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t make a big deal out of shit. I don’t have to try too hard."

"So you’re with her because she’s easy?"

Pedri snickers.

"More like… low maintenance. She’s quiet, doesn’t bother me when I’m busy, doesn’t start drama. It’s just chill. I don’t have to worry about her blowing up my phone or expecting too much."

I feel sick.

"Damn, so you’re basically keeping her around for convenience?"

"I mean, yeah," Pedri mutters. "She’s just... there. It’s not that deep."

The laughter erupts around him.

I think I might throw up.

"Fucking knew it," one of them howls. "You had us thinking you were actually in love with her or some shit."

Pedri laughs harder.

"Come on, man. You really think I’d fall for her?"

My heart shatters.

I can’t listen anymore. I can’t.

The pain is too much, the walls around me caving in, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

I need to get out of here.

I don’t know how long I stand there.

Seconds? Minutes?

Everything is a blur.

Their laughter rings in my ears, mocking me, haunting me.

Tears burn at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

I won’t let them have that power over me. My body moves on its own. One step.

Then another.

Then I’m walking away.

I don’t care where I’m going.

I just need to get the hell out of there.

I don’t go to my next class. I don’t care about my next class. I walk. Fast.

Away from the library, away from the voices, away from the truth clawing at my chest.

I feel numb.

Like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and I’m just walking around with a hollow, empty space inside me.

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

I don’t check it. I don’t need to. It’s him. It has to be. I ignore it.

I ignore the ache in my chest, the sting behind my eyes, the lump in my throat that makes it hard to breathe.

I just keep walking.

By the time I finally return to my dorm, the sky is a deep shade of blue, the sun barely peeking over the horizon.

I close the door behind me, my body exhausted, drained.

And then there’s a knock. I hesitate, my pulse spiking.

I already know who it is.

I take a slow, shaky breath, gripping the door handle before pulling it open.

Pedri stands there.

His brows are furrowed, concern laced into every inch of his face.

"What the hell, Y/N?" he asks immediately. "Why haven’t you been answering me all day?"

I stare at him.

He looks so… confused. Like he has no idea what he did.

That makes me angrier.

"Go away, Pedri."

His eyes widen slightly. "What? No. What’s going on? Did something happen?"

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your friends?"

He freezes. And I see it.

I see the exact moment realization hits.

His lips part slightly, but no words come out.

"Yeah," I say, voice shaking. "I heard you. I heard everything."

"Princesa—"

"Don’t." I take a step back. "Just don’t."

His jaw clenches. "I didn’t mean it."

I laugh again, but it hurts.

"Right," I nod. "Because saying I’m just some joke? Saying you’re pretending to like me? That just… accidentally came out of your mouth?"

"It’s not like that," he says quickly, stepping forward. "Please, Y/n. Just let me explain."

"Explain what?" I snap. "That I’m just some quiet, boring idiot who actually believed you cared about me?"

He flinches.

"That’s not true," he says, his voice softer now.

"It doesn’t matter," I whisper.

"It does."

"No, Pedri. It really doesn’t."

I exhale shakily, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze one last time.

"I can’t do this anymore."

His breath catches. "What?"

"We’re done."

I step back, my hands shaking as I close the door in his face.

For a few seconds, I don’t move.

I don’t breathe.

And then I hear it—

A soft, desperate whisper from the other side of the door.

"Please don’t leave me."

Tears stream down my face.

But I don’t open the door.

And I don’t look back.

The days blur together, a mess of sleepless nights and suffocating thoughts.

I barely eat, barely leave my dorm, barely exist outside of my own mind.

Every time I close my eyes, I hear his voice.

Every time I let my thoughts wander, I remember the way his words sliced through me like a blade.

My phone buzzes constantly, but I ignore it.

At first, I let it ring, let the messages pile up, let his name flash across my screen like a cruel reminder of what happened.

But he doesn’t stop.

"Y/n, please." "At least talk to me." "I need to explain." "I miss you."

Every day, every hour, his messages come in, desperate and persistent.

And every time, I stare at them with tears burning in my eyes, fingers hovering over the screen before I lock my phone and shove it under my pillow.

Then, after a few days, I finally block him.

I expect that to be the end of it.

But Pedri doesn’t give up so easily.

It starts with soft knocks on my door, hesitant at first, then firmer when I don’t answer.+

I stay curled up in bed, biting my lip to keep from crying out in frustration.

Then, when I wake up one morning and open my door, I see flowers.

A bouquet of my favorite ones, left neatly against the doorframe.

The first time, I hesitate.

The second time, I stare at them for a long time before stepping over them.

The third time, I pick them up, hold them in my hands for a moment, and then drop them in the trash.

And yet, the next day, there’s another bouquet.

Every single day, without fail, there’s a new one waiting for me. And every time, I feel my resolve cracking a little bit more.

But I’m not ready.

I don’t even know if I ever will be.

One week later, I finally force myself to go back to school.

I can’t hide forever.

I tell myself I’ve had time to heal, that I’ve built up enough strength to walk these halls without feeling like I’m suffocating under the weight of my own emotions.

That I can handle seeing him again.

But the second I step onto campus, my chest tightens, and my heart pounds against my ribcage like it’s trying to escape.

I keep my head down, moving quickly, avoiding eye contact, avoiding him.

But I can feel it. His presence. His eyes.

I know he’s seen me. I don’t look.

I don’t want to see the desperation in his expression, don’t want to acknowledge the way my stomach twists painfully at the thought of him standing somewhere nearby, watching me, waiting.

I force myself through class, focus on my notes, pretend everything is normal even though nothing is normal anymore.

But later, as I leave my last lecture, I barely take two steps before I feel it—

A hand gently grabbing my wrist, pulling me back.

I freeze.

His touch is familiar, careful, like he’s afraid I’ll run.

"Y/n."

His voice is quiet, raw, holding a plea that makes my throat tighten.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before finally turning around, my expression carefully blank.

Pedri stands there, looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world and he’s terrified he’s already lost me.

"Please," he says softly, his fingers still around my wrist. "Just let me explain."

I exhale slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. "There’s nothing to explain, Pedri."

"Yes, there is," he insists, stepping closer.

His hold on my wrist loosens, but he doesn’t let go completely, like he’s afraid that if he does, I’ll disappear.

"Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking."

I hesitate, my mind screaming at me to walk away. But something in his eyes, something so painfully real, holds me in place.

I sigh, crossing my arms. "Fine. Five minutes."

He pulls me aside to a quieter part of campus, away from the crowd, away from prying eyes.

I stand stiffly, my arms still crossed, my body tense like I’m ready to run at any second.

"I never meant what I said," he starts immediately. "I swear to you, Y/n. I didn’t mean a single fucking word of it."

I let out a hollow laugh. "Right. You just happened to say all those things for fun? Just to impress your asshole friends?"

"No," he says quickly, shaking his head. "It wasn’t for fun. It was to protect you."

I blink. "Excuse me?"

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair.

"Those guys? They’re not my friends. They never were. But they have a way of making people’s lives hell. I knew that if I admitted how much I cared about you, they’d go after you. Mock you. Make your life miserable. I thought if I played it off, if I made it seem like I didn’t care, they’d lose interest and leave you alone. Trust me Y/n iy happened before and it had gotten really ugly. I didn't want that to happen to the person I love."

I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "You really think that justifies what you said?"

"No," he admits, his voice softer. "It doesn’t. I was an idiot. I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you to understand. But I swear to you, Y/n, I would never actually think those things about you."

"Be a fucking man Pedri and instead of doing this shit stand up for the person you supposedly love. You're nothing but a pussy."

I swallow, my emotions warring inside me. I don’t know what to feel.

So I leave. Again.

Later that day,

It all happens too quickly.

One moment, I’m walking across campus, lost in my own thoughts, and the next, there’s chaos.

A crowd gathers around a scene near the student quad. Loud shouts and yells fill the air.

My heart skips a beat as I push through the mass of students, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

I’m not expecting to see what I do.

There’s Pedri.

His fists are flying, and the guy he’s fighting, the asshole, is holding his jaw, clearly stunned.

But Pedri doesn’t stop. He throws another punch, fury in his eyes. I see the red in his face, the anger, and it’s not just at the guy. It’s everything. The hurt. The frustration.

The last few weeks have been hell for both of us, but in this moment, it’s all coming out.

His fists are like his words, punching through everything that’s built up, everything that’s been left unsaid.

But I can’t watch it anymore. I’ve seen enough violence in my life to know when things are about to spiral.

“Pedri! Stop!” I shout, pushing through the crowd to grab his arm, pulling him back.

He jerks his head towards me, his expression wild, eyes wide with a mix of rage and confusion.

I hold onto his arm tightly, trying to calm him down.

I don’t know why I’m even doing this for him, but it’s like I’m drawn to him, like I can’t just walk away.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, but slowly, the fight drains out of him as he looks into my eyes.

His breath is ragged, and his hands are clenched into tight fists, knuckles covered in blood.

“Are you stupid?” I mutter, my hands trembling slightly as I grab his arm and pull him away from the scene.

The crowd disperses, some murmuring, others filming with their phones.

Pedri doesn't fight me.

He lets me drag him away, and somehow, I find myself leading him into the first-aid room, a small quiet space where the tension in my chest can finally loosen, even if just a little.

I shove him onto the chair and kneel down, rummaging through the first aid kit.

“Why do you do this?” I ask, my voice shaking. I try to stay calm, but my hands are shaking as I pull out the bandages.

I clean his bloody knuckles carefully, avoiding looking at him too much. I can’t let myself soften. Not yet.

He sighs deeply, his voice low, raw. “He was talking shit about you again. That guy, he just won’t leave you alone. I had to make it stop.”

My heart sinks, and I bite my lip hard. I don’t know how to feel. My stomach churns.

Why did he feel the need to fight again? Why did he let it get this far?

“But why do you keep doing this?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

"I... I don’t understand, Pedri. You say you care, but you keep pushing me away in the worst ways possible."

Pedri doesn’t answer right away. He stares at me for a long moment, his brow furrowed as though he’s considering every word carefully.

I can see the guilt in his eyes, the regret, the desperation. He wants me to understand. He needs me to.

“I—” He hesitates, his voice cracking slightly.

“I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like you were a joke. I thought... I thought I was protecting you, Y/n. From people who wouldn’t appreciate you the way I do. Those guys... They’ll never understand how much you mean to me. But they will hurt you if they think you matter to me."

I’m speechless, blinking at him. There’s a part of me that wants to scream, to tell him he’s full of shit, but the truth in his eyes catches me off guard.

He’s being real, and it’s so hard for me to reconcile that with the image of the guy I heard talking shit about me, degrading me, the guy I’ve been blocking out of my life for a week.

“You should’ve told me that before, Pedri.” I swallow hard.

My voice trembles with the weight of everything.

“Instead of... doing that. I don’t understand why you had to hurt me first.”

He doesn’t look away. He looks... guilty.

“I didn’t know how to explain. I didn’t want you to think I was using you as some kind of... shield or something. But I wasn’t. I swear, I wasn’t.”

His eyes soften as he gently reaches for my hand, his touch so careful now, like I might shatter at any second.

I pull away, feeling the heat of his gaze burn into me.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you yet, Pedri,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath.

“You hurt me too much. And... I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel anymore.”

He nods, his lips pressing together in frustration. “I’ll do anything to make it right. I don’t care what it takes.”

I turn away, my heart heavy, my thoughts too tangled to untangle.

It’s not so simple anymore. I don’t know if it ever will be.

I walk away, feeling like a piece of me is being pulled in two different directions.

The days that follow are both long and quiet. The silence between Pedri and me feels deafening, like an invisible wall built higher with every moment.

He’s not giving up on me, though. Not even close.

It’s hard for me to stay distant. Hard for me to ignore him.

But it feels like I have no other choice. Every time I open my phone, I see his name.

Every time I hear a knock on my dorm door, I know it’s him. But I don’t answer. I won’t.

Still, something is different now. I notice his absence more than I expect.

The void he left in my life isn’t easy to fill. His quiet persistence is eating at me, but I won’t let it show. Not yet.

Pedri, however, doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up.

At first, it’s small gestures. One morning, I find a handwritten note slipped under my door.

Just his name at the bottom, a few simple words.

“I’m sorry. Please give me a chance to prove I’m worth it.”

It’s the first time I’ve seen him so vulnerable. He’s always been confident, cocky even.

But this? This is different. I can feel the weight of his apology in the paper, and I fold it carefully, slipping it into my pocket.

Then, the flowers start.

He leaves them outside my dorm door every evening, sometimes daisies, sometimes sunflowers, always with a small note attached that says the same thing, “I’m sorry. Let me make it right.”

I feel the pull to just let him back in, but I resist. I’m not ready. I’m still broken.

Days go by, and I finally decide to leave my dorm to go to class. I walk through campus, trying to focus on the routine, trying to shut out everything else.

But I can’t. Pedri’s presence is everywhere.

I see him talking to the guys he used to hang out with, but now he’s different. He’s distant. Not laughing. Not joking around.

I can see it in the way he avoids eye contact, the way he doesn’t engage with them anymore.

His posture is closed off, like he’s shutting something down. I don’t know what it means, but something stirs in me.

Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s hope.

That’s when I notice it, his transformation.

Pedri has made a point to distance himself from the very people who encouraged him to hurt me.

He doesn’t hang out with those friends anymore. The ones who always made fun of me, belittled me, and tried to convince him I wasn’t “good enough.”

The ones who laughed at my expense and pushed him to do the same.

He’s even going out of his way to take different routes on campus, avoiding his old crew altogether.

It’s subtle at first, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s proving to me, in the smallest ways, that he’s changing.

That he’s fighting for something that matters more than his pride.

One day, I’m walking to class when I hear footsteps behind me. A familiar voice calls my name.

“Y/n.”

I don’t turn around, pretending like I didn’t hear him.

He’s been trying to talk to me for days, but every time I shut him down. It’s easier that way.

It’s safer.

But then, he’s right beside me, his presence undeniable.

“Please, just let me explain,” Pedri says, his voice low. There’s a softness in it now, no trace of arrogance. Just sincerity.

I finally stop, reluctantly meeting his eyes. He’s standing there, his expression full of regret, but something else, too, determination.

“I’m listening,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I... I’ve been thinking about everything,” he starts, hesitating, as if searching for the right words.

“I was an idiot, Y/n. I should’ve never listened to them, and I should’ve never pushed you away like I did. I wasn’t protecting you. I was just being selfish. And I never should’ve treated you like you were second best. I was wrong. I’m so sorry.”

His words hit me hard, and I want to yell at him. To tell him that his apology doesn’t fix anything.

But the truth is, he’s right. He was selfish. And I was hurt.

But there’s something about him, something in the way he’s looking at me now, that makes me wonder if he really means it.

“I don’t know, Pedri,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“You say you’re sorry, but it doesn’t undo everything. It doesn’t fix what you said or what you did.”

“I know,” he replies quickly.

“And I’m not asking for you to forgive me right away. I’m asking for a chance to show you that I can do better. That I can be the person you deserve. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me prove it.”

For a moment, we stand there in silence, my mind racing with all the things I’m still unsure about.

But then I notice it, the genuine effort in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice. He’s not just saying the right things.

He’s living it.

“I’ll prove it to you every day,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ve already cut ties with the guys who put you down. I don’t need people like that in my life. They can think whatever they want, but you? You matter. You always have. I’ll prove that to you, Y/n. I swear.”

I swallow hard, his words breaking through my walls. I want to stay angry.

I want to stay hurt. But everything in me is telling me that maybe, just maybe, he’s worth another chance.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” I whisper.

“But... I’ll try. Slowly.”

Pedri’s eyes light up, and for the first time in weeks, I see a glimpse of the boy I used to know.

“That’s all I need. Just a chance.”

From that day on, I watch him like a hawk.

Pedri is relentless. He’s not just sending flowers or leaving notes anymore, he’s putting in real effort.

He spends his free time sitting with me in the library, helping me with schoolwork, never pushing for anything more.

Every time I see him talking to his old friends, he’s distant, his back turned, never engaging with the people who once made him feel like he was better than me.

He’s proving to me, with every small action, that he’s serious.

One day, as we sit in the park near campus, he looks at me quietly, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

“I know it’s not enough,” he says softly,

“but I hope one day you’ll look at me and see someone who actually cares. Someone who will fight for you, no matter what.”

I look at him then, really look at him, and for the first time in a long while, I believe it.

He’s not perfect. He might have messed up. But he’s doing everything he can to make it right.

“Okay,” I whisper, my heart beating faster. “I’ll let you try.”

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for now.

A few months later,

the tension between Pedri and me starts to ease. He’s patient, more so than I’ve ever seen him.

And with every day that passes, he seems to be putting more and more effort into proving that he’s not just saying the words.

He’s showing it.

But there’s something else. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

Pedri hasn’t stopped trying to make things right, and it’s clear he’s not giving up on us.

It’s not just the grand gestures anymore, but the small, thoughtful ones, like leaving me my favorite coffee in the library, or texting me random jokes in the middle of the day to make me smile. (bare minimum fr)

And when I finally start to look at him again, I can see it. There’s real change in him.

And so, when he asks if I’ll go out with him on a date, I don’t say no.

But I don’t expect what happens next.

It’s a Saturday evening, and Pedri messages me earlier in the day, asking me to meet him at 6 PM sharp.

When I arrive at the spot he texted me, the park near campus, I’m greeted with something that takes my breath away.

There, in front of me, is a blanket spread out on the grass. The soft glow of fairy lights surrounds the area, strung between trees, creating a romantic little nook in the middle of the park.

On the blanket, there’s a picnic basket, candles, and even my favorite flowers, lilies, pink and white, arranged in a vase.

It’s not what I expected from him. At all.

Pedri stands beside it all, hands in his pockets, looking nervous as hell.

His eyes light up when he sees me, and for the first time in ages, I see a boy who’s trying harder than anyone ever has to make me feel special.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice shaky but hopeful.

“I know I’ve messed up. But I wanted to show you... that I’m serious about this. About us.”

I stand there for a moment, blinking at the effort he’s put into this.

The last time we were together like this, things were so different.

It feels like we’ve both come a long way.

“Are you serious?” I ask, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“I’ve never seen you do anything like this before.”

“I know,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But you deserve something better than what I gave you. You deserve to feel appreciated. And not just with words, but with actions. I know this isn’t enough, but... I hope it’s a start.”

I can’t help but smile, my heart beating a little faster as I walk over to him.

“I think it’s a perfect start, Pedri.”

He grins, relief flooding his features.

“I’m glad. I thought I might’ve messed it up with the flowers and all that.”

“Honestly? It’s the most effort anyone’s ever put into a date for me,”

I admit, my voice soft, but sincere.

Pedri chuckles, and his eyes soften.

“Well, then I guess I’m doing something right.”

We sit down on the blanket, and the evening goes from awkward to comfortable, and then, as the conversation flows, it becomes something even more.

We talk about everything, the past, the mistakes, the ways we’ve grown.

We laugh about stupid stuff, and he even admits to being terrible at making dinner (something I’d suspected from the start, but now it’s confirmed).

He makes a joke about how he can barely toast bread without burning it, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I’ll cook for you sometime,” he says with a playful grin. “And you can judge my terrible cooking skills.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” I tease, nudging him with my elbow. “But sure. I’ll take you up on that.”

We settle into a comfortable silence for a while, just listening to the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

It feels... nice. Simple. And yet, it’s everything I’ve been wanting. I can feel the trust building again, piece by piece.

“Y/n,” he says quietly after a long pause, turning to face me.

“I know I messed up. But I need you to know that I would do anything to make things right. I’ll spend every day proving to you that you’re the one I want, the one I need.”

I look into his eyes, eyes full of sincerity, full of hope, and for the first time in a long while, I believe him.

“Okay,” I whisper, my heart thudding in my chest. “I’ll give you that chance.”

Pedri’s eyes widen, and a grin spreads across his face so fast it takes me by surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I say with a playful smile. “But only if you promise to keep the flowers coming.”

He laughs, his face lighting up like I’ve just given him the biggest gift in the world.

“Done. I’ll keep the flowers and the dates coming. Just don’t leave me again, okay?”

I laugh softly, nudging him again. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“And you’re lucky I’m good at dates,” he grins, leaning in close, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

“Otherwise, I’d be in serious trouble.”

“Oh, you’re already in serious trouble,” I tease back, rolling my eyes.

“But I guess I’ll give you another chance. For now.”

Pedri leans back, throwing his arms around me in a mock dramatic fashion.

“I’ll make the most of it, I promise! I’ll win you over... one bad joke at a time.”

I can’t help but laugh as I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body next to mine.

It’s easy now. It’s natural.

“I’ll hold you to that, Pedri,” I say softly, closing my eyes for a moment.

And for the first time in months, everything feels right again.

The end

[ladsheadcanoncorner]

Yessss feed me the headcanonssssss

Can we get overprotective? Maybe like what they would do if your asshole ex shows up or something like that?

absolutely (gender neutral ex so you can picture as you see fit)! as a girly with a bad ex, i would've loved to have the boys there to defend me. hope anyone out there dealing with this can find some comfort here too <3

rating: sfw cw: bad ex, threats of violence ✉︎♡: ask box open, tumblr users + anons

Xavier:

Man is jealous of himself, so you can only imagine how he is when he finally meets your infamous ex at a work mixer

Xavier shakes hands and greets everyone except your ex, who he won’t even look at

He is grabby with you for the rest of the night. Hand in yours, on your back, on your shoulder. He won’t let you out of his sight for even a second

You: “Xav, it’s okay. We broke up a long time ago and -”

Your ex makes the mistake of jumping into the conversation right then. “Could only get someone who’s already trapped with you at work all day, huh?”

Xavier looks calm, but you can see rage flashing in his eyes

He takes a step toward your ex and quietly and calmly says, “Anyone who lost such a prize must be an idiot, and I don’t fight unfair matches.”

Before your ex can say anything else, Xavier is already leading you out of the party, hand on the back of your neck so that everyone, including your ex, can see that you’re his

“Let’s go home so I can show you just how lucky I am to have you.”

Zayne:

You’re at a cafe before work, one of the rare times you and Zayne have matching shifts

While waiting for your coffee to be called, you hear the barista say a familiar name

You and Zayne both whip your heads to look at the pickup counter, and your heart sinks when you see your ex

Zayne knows some details about your ex since you grew up together, but it is enough that he instantly turns on his protective side

The barista calls your name and Zayne’s next, and Zayne squeezes your hand before getting up to get the drinks

Right as your ex is reaching for the drink, Zayne slides in front and picks up the drinks you ordered with ease, cutting your ex off

The coldest delivery of, “It’s polite to say sorry, but I’m really not.”

Your ex starts to get upset but Zayne has already turned his back with your drink

He calls over his shoulder, “The life of a surgeon is busy. If you wanted to go first you should’ve gotten a better job.”

Zayne hands you your coffee with an easy smile and a kiss, making sure your ex is watching the entire exchange

Rafayel:

You and Raf are touring a museum to see the spot where his newest painting will be installed later that month

When you hear a familiar voice at the end of the hall, you freeze

Rafayel: “What’s wrong, cutie?” You: “That voice sounded just like my ex. You know that ex.”

Rafayel merely nods, and then drapes an arm over your shoulder as you keep walking forward, pulling you as close to his body as he can

Rounding the corner, your ex spots you and sneers, “Surprised to see you finally got back out there.”

Rafayel turns to you and says, “Aw cutie, I didn’t know you used to do charity work.”

You don’t know whose jaw drops to the floor faster, you or your ex

Raf looks at your ex and then continues nonchalantly, “I’m putting up a new art piece this month. You should really check out the red paint, I think it’ll match your vibe.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and then the two of you leave the museum, Raf never letting you out from under his arm

You: “You’re not really going to use that paint in the museum, right?” Raf, coldly: “No, but I might make a custom piece if that asshole ever thinks of talking to you again.”

Sylus:

When Sylus gets back to the base one night, he can’t find you in any of your usual spots

Rationally he knows that Mephisto would have told him if you were in any sort of danger, but emotionally Sylus can feel his heart rate starting to speed up

He finally finds you on the terrace, having a rather heated conversation on the phone

He knows you’re completely capable of fighting your own battles, but as soon as he hears that name - the one you told him about, who hurt you - all bets are off

Casually strides over to you and plucks the phone out of your hand with a, “Let me handle this, sweetie.”

His hand is tracing protective circles on your back when he says, “How did you get this number?” Your ex on the other line instantly gets defensive.

“I’m going to stop you right there. Nobody talks to me like that and gets away unscathed, but nobody talks to her like that and lives. If you value that pathetic little life of yours, I’d leave town for a while.”

He hangs up the phone and then blocks the number before handing it back to you

Sylus: “I don’t think your ex will be bothering you anytime soon.” You: “Yeah because you threatened them?” Sylus: “It was more of a promise, kitten.”

He spends the rest of the night being extra romantic. Stealing long kisses whenever you walk by, taking you to his vinyl room to slow dance, and making sure you know just how much you are worth loving 

Caleb:

You’ve been acting weird all night, even though Caleb took you to your favorite restaurant

Caleb: “You’ve barely touched your food. Are you feeling alright?” You: “Yeah everything is fine. I’m just tired.”

As if you could ever actually lie to Caleb, but he doesn’t press the issue further

On the way out of the restaurant, you pass by a table close to the door, where you’re greeted with a, “Is that Y/N?”

As soon as Caleb sees your ex, he is like a different person. He’s squaring his shoulders, his hand is protectively gripping yours, and his eyes are absolutely determined

Of course he knows all about your ex, being on the receiving end of all of the nights you spent crying over this horrible person, but meeting face to face is a different story

Caleb puts on a fake smile and then bends down by the table so as not to cause a scene

“If you even so much as look at her again, I promise it will be the last thing you do. Understand?”

When Caleb stands up, your ex sees just how much he towers over them, and they shrink back in their seat

He then makes a dramatic display of kissing you right in front of them before you leave the restaurant

“Want to go get ice cream to make up for all of that, or should we skip right to the dessert at home?”

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 18

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

I have a question for you guys. How do you guys read Innie? Because I saw someone on TikTok read it as I.N-ie where I've always read it as in-ie, like Jeonginnie. I'm just curious as to how people read it.

Chapter 18

“Are you sure you guys don’t need any help?” Y/n asks as she watches Minho and Felix move around the kitchen making dinner. 

“We’ve got it, baby.” Felix smiles at her before booping her nose causing her to scrunch it up. “Go relax a little.” 

The omega sighs before turning to see where everyone else is. She knows Jisung and Jeongin are out walking in the neighborhood. She then spots Changbin standing outside the back door and walks out to join him. 

“Hey pretty girl.” He smiles looking up from his phone.

“Is that your omega?” A female voice asks from his call.

“Oh, sorry Binnie.” Y/n frowns a little for interrupting his phone call. “I didn’t realize you were talking to someone.” 

“It’s okay baby, it’s just my sister.” He holds his hand out for her to join him. “She’s been wanting to meet you anyways.” 

She takes his hand and he brings her close to his side, wrapping an arm around her waist as she looks at the phone seeing his sister on a video call.

“Hi Y/n, it’s so good to finally meet you.” The older girl beams on the phone. “I’m Jaehee.”

“Hi.” Y/n waves shyly. “I didn’t know Changbin had an older sister.”

“That's just like him, not to mention me.” Jaehee rolls her eyes. “He’s told us a lot about you though. You’re even cuter than he described. Not sure how you ended up with someone like my brother though.” 

“Yah!!” Changbin yells, causing the girl to lean away from him a little at his loud voice. 

“Don’t make the poor girl deaf, Changbinnie.” Jaehee scolds. “God you’re so loud.”

“If I had known you were just going to make fun of me the whole time I wouldn’t have answered your call.” He grumbles causing his sister to laugh.

“I’ll be nice.” Jaehee smiles then looks at the omega through the camera. “So Y/n, how are you liking Jeju Island? Changbin said it’s your first time being there. Do you like our beach house?”

“It’s very beautiful here. And the house is amazing.” Y/n smiles. “I can understand why Jisung and Felix wanted to come here so badly.”

“What have you guys been up to so far?”

“All together we’ve only done a beach day. Though I think we’re all going to the drive-in theatre tonight since Felix and Minho are making an early dinner.” She looks at her mate for confirmation who nods yes. “And they’ve each paired up and have been taking me on dates as proper courting.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” The older female gushes. “What did my brother do for his date?”

“We haven't gone yet. He and Ji are my last date tomorrow.”

“Changbin, you better treat this girl right on your guys date tomorrow.” She scolds. “I expect princess treatment, you hear me?”

“Trust me, all she knows at this point is princess treatment.” The alpha defends making the girl next to him blush as he pulls her closer to him and nuzzles her cheek.

“Y/n, if he ever does anything to upset you, call me okay?”

“Will do, Jaehee.”

“So what did the others do for your dates?” Jaehee places her chin in her hand. 

“Chan and Seungmin took me to some shops to get a swimsuit and we got desserts.” Y/n smiles as she thinks about her dates. “Felix and Jeongin took me to a gaming cafe and Minho and Hyunjin took me to the farmers market and craft fair.”

“Ooh Changbinnie, you’ve got some competition.” 

“It isn’t about which pair takes her on a better date Jaehee.” Changbin looks annoyed with his sister now. “This trip is about all of us bonding and getting to know our girl better.”

“Alright, alright.” She puts her hands up in surrender. “I’ll stop being a pest and let you guys go. Have fun on the rest of your vacation. And Y/n, we’ll have to figure out sometime when you and Changbin can come over to our parents so we can meet in person.”

“Sounds good.” The omega smiles. “I know we’ll have to figure that out for everyone's families.”

“Tell everyone else I said hi. And we’ll talk again soon.”

“Bye.” Y/n and Changbin say at the same time before hanging up the video call. 

“Sorry about her, pretty girl.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I like her.” Y/n smiles up at him. “I can’t wait to meet her and your parents in person.”

“We’ll definitely have to figure out with everyone when we can finally introduce you to all of our families.” 

“Do you think all of your guy’s family will like me?” The omega scent starts to sour as she starts to get into her head.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” He places a finger under her chin to lift her head up so they are making eye contact. “Our families will love you. They’ll have no reasons not to.”

“You sure?” 

“I’m positive.”

“Dinners ready.” Jeongin pokes his head out from the sliding glass door but then frowns when he sees the alpha and omega. “Jagiya, you okay?”

“She’s good, pup.” Changbin grabs her hand and leads her into the house and ruffles his hair as they walk past. “Let's eat so we can get ready to head out.”

Minho and Felix place the last of the food on the table as they all start taking seats. Jeongin quickly takes one of the seats next to Y/n. He’s been worried about her since she had asked him to help her slip into subspace, hovering around her a little more. 

“So there are two movies playing tonight.” Chan says as everyone starts eating. “One screen will be playing Jurassic World. And the other screen will be playing Five Feet Apart.”

“We have to see Five Feet Apart.” Felix sits up straight, eyes wide with excitement. 

“Isn’t it a sad sappy movie?” Seungmin scrunches his nose. “At least Jurassic World has action.”

“Like always, we’ll put it to a vote.” Changbin eyes the two in warning not to start arguing. “If you want to see Jurassic World, raise your hand.” Changbin raises his hand along with Seungmin, Jeongin and Chan. “And Five Feet Apart.” Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and Minho raise theirs.

“Y/n, you didn’t vote.” Chan looks at her with a frown. 

“Why do I have to be the one to decide?” She looks at all of them, scared that depending on which one she picks, the four who picked the other movie will be upset and grouchy the whole time. 

“You get to have a choice in this too, babygirl.”

“And now that we have nine people we actually have a better voting system unlike before.” Jeongin places his hand on her thigh. “We would have so many ties with there being an even number of us that we would have to flip a coin to decide most of the time.”

“What if we see both?” She mumbles not looking at any of them. “We’re already planning to take two of the three cars right? So everyone that wants to see Jurassic world goes in one and everyone who wants to see Five Feet Apart goes in the other and everyone is happy.”

“No we’re not.” Minho shakes his head. “We’re supposed to be doing this as a pack, so we all see one movie, not split up to see different ones, it’s not how it works.”

“But I don’t want anyone who was wanting to see the other movie than the one I pick be upset and unhappy the whole time.”

“That won’t happen, pup, I promise.” Seungmin gives her a reassuring smile. “As long as we’re all together we’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah, the plan is to put all the pillows and blankets in the bed of the trunk and we all get in it to watch the movie and cuddle.” Jisung smiles brightly, already excited for what's to come. 

“So which do you pick, princess?” Hyunjin folds his hands together and rests his chin on them while waiting for her answer.

“Ummm…” She looks at all of them for a moment before taking a deep breath reminding herself that she actually has a say in things now and that no one will be upset with her for what she chooses. “I wanna see Five Feet Apart if that’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay.” Changbins eyes soften at her. “Five votes for it makes it the winner.”

“Yes.” Felix and Jisung high five each other. 

“Kitten, why don’t you go change into something comfier and grab whatever extra pillows and blankets are in the closest that we can set up in the bed of the truck.” Minho stands up to start cleaning. “We’ll get everything cleaned up so we can head on out as quickly as possible.”

“Okay.” The omega stands and quickly goes to her room to change as she hears the sounds of plates and dishes being handled. 

“Why’d you send her off like that?” Jisung frowns as Minho takes his and Felix’s plates. “I thought what she was wearing was just fine.”

“Because I wanted your guys' opinions on something I had bought at the craft fair.” Minho places the plates in the sink before pulling the collar with the amethyst compass rose pendant out of his pocket showing it to all of them.

“Is that?” Chan moves closer to look at it while everyone sits there gapping at it. 

“The booth was run by a nice alpha and omega couple, everything is handmade.” Minho gives Chan the collar so he can look at it and they can all pass it around. “I just felt that the compass rose was a good symbol for us and the omega said that amethysts is a symbol of faithful loves and a popular choice for those seeking a soulmate. Or something like that.” 

“I think you put more thought into this than you did for my collar.” Felix says as he looks at the pendant. 

“Lixie, you were determined to pick out your own collar, you didn’t give us a choice.” Chan nudges the omega.

“Because I’m picky with what I wear.” Felix pouts, handing the collar to Jisung before placing his hand on his own collar around his neck. “But I do love mine and I think Y/n will love this one.”

“So is this the one we’re gonna collar her with?” Hyunjin admires the pendant. 

“Does everyone agree?” Chan asks and they all nod in excitement.

“I think it’s perfect.” Changbin hands the collar back to Minho.

“Chan, as pack alpha it’s only right that you give it to her.” He hands it back to the oldest male.

“But you were the one who found it.”

“And Felix found his own collar but you were still the one to collar him.” Jeongin speaks up.

“We all agree as pack alpha you should do it, Channie.” Seungmin forces him to fold his fingers around the collar before moving his hand to his pocket. 

“I’ll do it tonight while we’re all in the bed of the truck. That way everyone is there.” Chan nods as he places it safely in his pocket. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Felix, Y/n and Jisung move around the bed of the truck situating the pillows and blankets almost making a form of nest for everyone. Chan and Jeongin watch over the three of them as Minho, Changbin, Seungmin and Hyunjin went to the snack bar to get drinks and snacks. The second car is parked right next to the truck, the trunk open, back seats down and also set up with some blankets and pillows in case anyone gets too cold and wants to move inside the vehicle. 

“You guys are just so cute.” Jeongin gawks at them which results in him getting hit in the head with a pillow by Jisung gaining a laugh from the omegas.

Jeongin grunts and his eyes show that he’s about to put the beta in his place but Chan stops the young alpha. “Not in public, Innie.”

“But hyung, he started it.”��

“Don’t give me that tone, pup.” Chan asserts his dominance causing Jeongin to pout a little, making Jisung laugh. “Ji, you have no room to laugh, you did start it, don’t push it.”

“Alright, we’re done.” Felix announces hoping to defuse the situation between the three of them.

“And just in time.” Changbin calls out as he rounds the truck holding popcorn and a drink carrier, Minho, Hyunjin and Seungmin following behind with more drink carriers and popcorn or candy. “We’ve got the food.”

Jeongin gets in the truck and takes the food from them to place around. Felix and Jisung claim a corner of the truck and start cuddling as Minho gets into the bed of the truck and grabs their snacks and drinks, handing it to them. Changbin and Chan help Seungmin and Hyunjin get up into the truck before climbing up themselves.

Chan moves over near the two already cuddling and pulls Y/n along so she can lay against him. Hyunjin follows wanting cuddles from his alpha too. Changbin sits down before manhandling Seungmin into his lap and the beta allows it. And Minho moves over to pull Jeongin to him from where he’s kneeled, still watching the female omega like he’s been doing since their date. 

“She’s okay, pup, relax.” Minho whispers into the youngest alphas hair as he’s pulled to his chest. “I’m proud of you for being observant of her but you’re hovering too much. Has she seemed to be actining any differently or on edge, more than normal?”

“No.” Jeongin shakes his head.

“Exactly. I know we were all worried because of her asking you to scent her into subspace but I genuinely think she was just wanting to experience it after she and Felix talked about it.” Minho reassures him. “You should be proud that she trusts you to do that for her. Be happy, okay.”

“Hey, babygirl, we’ve got something for you.” Chan says pushing on Y/n and Hyunjin a little so he can sit up.

The omega looks at him confused before looking at everyone else who are watching with excitement before turning back to Chan as he pulls something out of his pocket. Her eyes widen as she gasps when she sees the pendant necklace.

“Is that?” She covers her mouth in disbelief.

“We want to collar you if you’ll let us.” Chan smiles at her, his eyes filled with nothing but love. “Even though we all haven’t claimed you yet, we wanted something to show to you that we’ll be yours forever.”

“We know that not all omegas enjoy being collared, and it’s okay if you don’t want to be.” Hyunjin speaks up when she still hasn’t said anything. 

“But we still wanted to give you one just like we did with Felix when he came out to us.” Changbin explains and Y/n looks over at the other omega and he shows off his collar he’s wearing. 

She takes it from Chan to get a closer look. “It’s beautiful.”

“Minho hyung picked it out.” Jisung nudges her leg with his foot and the girl looks over at the second oldest alpha whose ears are burning red. 

“I felt that the compass rose was a good representation of how we came to be.” The alpha watches her lovingly. “We were lost without you, you were lost on your own, and we managed to find each other, as if you were meant to run out of gas at that park because your true north was there or something.”

“Hyung, you’re getting sappy on us.” Seungmins groans, gaining a pinch to the side from Changbin who's still holding the beta in his lap. 

Y/n starts to tear up and she quickly wipes her cheeks. “I love you guys.” She finally admits to all of them, her lip still trembling a little with overwhelming emotions, and her tears just keep coming.

She gets a chorus of “we love you too” as they all sit up to give her a group hug and they tell her not to cry. 

“It’s happy tears.” She tries to laugh a little as they all hold her. When they all eventually pull away, she turns to Chan and gives him the collar. “Can you help me put it on?”

“Of course baby girl.” He kneels behind her and puts it around her neck as she holds her hair out of the way. 

Once it's clasped in place she puts her hand over it and smiles before showing it off, everyone admiring her. They all still can’t believe that the beautiful omega in front of them is theirs.

______________________________________________________________

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[thebramblewood]

Who knew window shopping could lead to so many revelations?

Previous / Next

All credit to @moonwoodhollow for Exerzierplatz, where you can find the bookstore, and @its-opheliasgarden for Umbra Boulevard, where you can find the antique shop, both of which are only one small part of these incredible builds!

Caleb: You’ve grown awfully comfortable with her.

Helena: First of all, you have no room to judge. [mockingly] Oh, she’s my sister and I loathe her! But I’m too much of a coward to move out.

Caleb: I’ve certainly never uttered those-

Helena: Secondly, being angry is exhausting. Holding an eternal grudge requires too much energy. And she can be fun — in her own way.

Caleb: You mean the way that’s fun until it isn’t? Not long ago, she had you on the verge of murder. Your memory can’t be that short.

Helena: We have our differences. But she respects my limits now.

Caleb: She’s being careful, but I know her too well to believe it’s for anyone’s benefit but her own. She’s only biding her time until you let your guard down.

Helena: God, you’re cynical.

Caleb: I’m realistic. For a long time, I held out hope she would turn back into the Lilith I knew. But there’s a point of no return, and she’s far past it. I just think you should tread carefully.

-

Helena: Why do you really stay? Is she holding something over you? Are you a masochist?

Caleb: I’ve told you. It’s complicated.

Helena: Have you ever even tried to leave?

Caleb: Helena-

Helena: Who’s Morgyn?

Caleb: [uncomfortably abrupt silent]

Helena: I heard that name in your head just now, not for the first time. I didn’t want to pry, but it must be someone who means a lot to you.

Caleb: Meant.

Helena: Did you have a falling out or-

Caleb: [flatly] They’re dead.

Helena: Oh. I’m sorry. [softly] Caleb, were you in love with them?

Caleb: Something like that.

Helena: What happened? Don’t tell me Lilith-

Caleb: [insistently] It had nothing to do with her. They were a spellcaster, a very powerful one. They wielded influence. They had detractors. One of those detractors killed them.

Helena: Oh my god. That’s awful. Could you tell me what they were like sometime — when you’re ready?

Caleb: [faintly] I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Helena: Caleb, look! I haven’t used one of these since I was a kid. Do you think they’ve got film for it?

-

Caleb: Come on. Don’t waste it on a picture that won’t even turn out.

Helena: What’s the deal with that anyway? I saw something about silver online, but-

Caleb: Anything you read on the Internet is conjecture and myth.

Helena: Is it because we don’t have souls?

Caleb: [bemused] What does that even mean? Do you feel as though you’ve lost yours?

Helena: Yes. No. I don’t know. I guess I feel the same… mostly.

Caleb: Countess Flores has a theory that we innately shroud our physical selves in images, just as we veil human minds, that we could appear if we willed it. But that remains pure hypothesis as far as I know.

Helena: I think I’ve attempted enough desperate selfies to safely debunk that one. You know, I wonder… [trails off distractedly]

Caleb: Helena?

Helena: Maybe it’s not such a bad thing. I used to want to capture every moment, but now the pictures make it impossible to forget.

Caleb: We both know it’s not the pictures that keep the memories alive.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

earning your stripes - part one

✯ pairing:

racer!rafe cameron x fem sports reporter!reader

✯ summary:

sports reporter, y/n edwards, has the opportunity of a lifetime - interviewing nascar driver, rafe cameron. But, it may be a little bit more than she bargained for.

✯ warnings:

rafe is a sexy cocky bitch, reader is a queen, sexual innuendos, eventual smut, mature themes, rafe low key is a bitch, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

You made your way up the concrete clad driveway, eyes on your feet as your nerves sat at the back of your throat. You had dressed casually, boyfriend jeans and a Ramones t-shirt with white platform sneakers. Your makeup was minimal, but enough to make a good impression. You were nervous for many reasons, one of which being that Rafe Cameron had never done an interview with anyone and what set you apart from any of the other sports reporters who had reached out to him? Absolutely nothing. You pushed the question down as you made it to the top of his driveway and took it in, the open garage door of the mid-sized brick home. It was nice, but not what you’d expect for a multi-million dollar race car driver. 

“Hello?” 

You asked, stepping into the garage where you took in the sight of multiple empty containers of motor oil and dirty rags that sat on a ruby red toolbox much taller than you. Suddenly, you backed up as white converse sneakers peeked out from underneath the red mustang taking up most of the space in the garage. They slid out from underneath the car and into your shins. 

“Ow!” 

You yelped and he chuckled smugly and suddenly, you felt uncomfortable. His sly smirk captured you as you took him in. He laid there, head cocked sideways as his grin spread into a full blown toothy smile. You were captivated by the blue irises that were his eyes, they were possibly the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and as your eyes moved down again, taking in the blue jumpsuit that was covered in oil and grease, you knew you were in trouble.

“Is this the Cameron house?” 

You asked, politely as you cleared your throat, awkward sexual tension looming in the air. 

When your boss told you to interview Rafe Cameron before his upcoming race, you were ecstatic, elated even. You’d imagined a lot of things about him, you thought maybe he’d be easy to deal with, that the interview might possibly go smoothly, but the one thing you weren’t expecting him to be was this kind of beautiful. His chiseled jaw had made your core warm and he rose from the rolling seat, wiping his hands on the pants of his jumpsuit before moving to greet you with a dirty handshake. 

“Well, it must be my lucky day.” 

He smiled brightly as he spoke. His southern twang was another thing you weren’t expecting, but you pushed that thought down quickly and gave him a soft smile. 

“What do you mean?” 

You questioned. 

“Well, you’re the escort Topper sent over, right? For my birthday?” 

He winked and you swallowed thickly, your face falling at the notion that you looked anything remotely close to a hooker and someone so beautiful thinking it – that made your insides churn. 

“Happy birthday”, you whispered before turning to walk back to the end of the driveway. 

“Oh, come on, darlin,’ I’m just kidding around. What’s your name? What can I do for you?” 

He moved toward you, grabbing your arm and turning you back to face him. 

“My name is y/n. I don’t know why I’m here now. This was a mistake. I should’ve known you weren’t any different, all you driver’s are the same.” 

You muttered, unsure why you had blurted those words out. The power he already had over you was sickening. 

“Sweetheart, I can promise you I’m not like any driver you’ve ever met.” 

He grinned smugly and you grimaced, watching him retreat from you to turn the key inside of the mustang he was previously under. You giggled as his large feet caught up in one another and he caught himself on the edge of the car. You found his clumsiness sexy and endearing and you were sure if you were that tall and lanky, you’d trip over your own feet too. As the engine turned over, you sighed in contentment, that familiar sound reminding you of your dad. 

“I gotta go, but hey, take that front fender off and those twin turbos will look and sound ten times better.” 

You cheekily said, winking in his direction before retreating to your car and driving away. The only thing Rafe could think was how impressed he was and how much he had underestimated you in the brief interaction. He needed to know who the hell you were and how the hell you wound up on his doorstep. 

taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @akobx @allsmilesreally7 @wtfdudesblog @urdreamgirl12 @hockeybabe87 @sereneera @annaconscience @pogueprincesa @bibissparkles @obxbigsis @jjmaybankmylovee @kulekehe

[nhlclover]

PUSHING IT DOWN AND PRAYING QUINN HUGHES

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: ever since quinn's confession, the magnetic pull of your ex has lingered in both dreams and waking moments, forcing you to confront emotions you believed were long buried.

warnings: 18+, (not insanely descriptive but) p in v, oral (fem!receiving), cheating (in your head and in person!), kind of toxic behaviour from both you and quinn

wc: 3.54k

notes: based on 'pushing it down and praying' by lizzy mcalpine. technically a part two to my fic last christmas but not necessary to read before this one! this is my first time writing something that actually veers into smut and i kind of liked it 🤫🤭

Quinn was haunting you.

Ever since the holiday party, when he told you he missed you, his presence has plagued your thoughts. You had hoped at first that it was just the encounter that had your mind tangled up in him again. A fluke. An inconvenient memory dredged up by too much wine and the way the Christmas lights had cast a golden glow around his face, making him look as heartbreakingly beautiful as he always had.

But it wasn’t just a one-off. He lingered everywhere. Seeped into everything.

He was in photos your friends reposted on Instagram, him celebrating as he racked up points in what was set to be another Norris-deserving season. You walk down the street and he’s staring down at you from a billboard. Someone at work mentions his name in passing, and you have to grip your coffee cup just a little bit tighter.

Even in the most intimate, protected moments, he’s there.

You’re with Caleb, naked and tangled up in his sheets. His hands and lips take turns tracing patterns down your skin. You close your eyes, tilting your head back against the pillow, and then suddenly, Quinn is there, hovering in the space between your thoughts, intruding like he always does. It’s his hands gripping down on your thighs, it’s his breath that’s hot over your core. It’s his black locks that your fingers thread through, his tongue that pulls you close to completion.

It’s his name that nearly slips past your lips instead of Calebs.

The second you realize, your entire body goes cold with horror. You feel sick. You feel like you’ve betrayed something, even if you’re not sure what.

It should stop there. It should be enough to shake you, to jar you back into the reality of what you have — what you chose. But it doesn’t.

Quinn lingers.

Like a ghost with a vengeance, he refuses to be exorcized from your mind. You try everything to rid yourself of him, desperate to cleanse him from your system like a sickness. You delete his number from your phone. You block him on Instagram. You unfollow the team’s page, stop watching their games, turn off the TV when his name is mentioned. But it doesn’t matter. You still see him in flashes, in the shadows of your everyday life, in the places you least expect him.

You tell yourself that Caleb is enough. He’s stable, he’s kind. He looks at you like you’re his whole world. And yet, no matter how much you try to convince yourself, you can feel the guilt creeping in, poisoning what should be simple, should be easy. Because Caleb doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve a half-present version of you, someone who is always a breath away from slipping into a memory, a ghost of a love that still has its claws in you.

And you do love Caleb. That’s what makes this worse. You love him, but Quinn is in your blood, tangled in your bones. No matter how many times you try to wring him out of you, he stays.

You don’t mean to let him in, but Quinn is relentless. Even when you spend the rest of the night curled in on yourself, forcing your mind onto anything but him, he lingers in the edges of your consciousness, slipping in through the cracks you swore you sealed long ago.

You fall asleep telling yourself you won’t think about him. But the harder you try to push him away, the faster he finds you.

And then suddenly, he’s everywhere.

His hands, broad and warm, map your body, claiming you like he never lost the right. His mouth, hot and sure, drags across your skin, lips brushing over your jaw, your throat, lower. His voice, low and wrecked with want, says your name like it’s the only thing that’s ever mattered.

It feels real. Devastatingly real.

You arch into him, gasping when his fingers dig into your hips, when his body presses you deeper into the mattress. His hips drill into you, overwhelming pleasure wreaking your body. You’re close, so close, his hands adding to the pleasure until finally—

You wake up in a sweat, your heart hammering against your ribs, sheets tangled around your legs like they’re trying to hold you down, keep you from moving, from running from the truth that’s finally caught up to you.

The dream was so vivid it may as well have been real. It wasn’t just a memory, wasn’t just another unwelcome reminder of Quinn’s existence — it was something else entirely. Something new. Something that felt so raw, so visceral, so devastatingly consuming that you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours, the weight of his name thick on your tongue. You swear you can still taste him, still hear the low rasp of his voice murmuring against your ear, still feel the way he held you, worshiped you, and took you apart like he had every right to.

And you wanted it. God, you wanted it so badly.

The realization sits heavy in your stomach like a lead weight, nausea curling at the edges of your consciousness. It’s not just some intrusive thought, not just a fleeting moment of weakness. It’s something deeper, something more dangerous. It’s the kind of desire that threatens to upend everything you’ve built, the kind that makes you question every choice you’ve made since Quinn walked out of your life.

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to block it all out, trying to push the images away. Caleb is sleeping beside you, blissfully unaware, his breathing slow and steady. He’s good. He’s steady. He’s the kind of love that doesn’t set you on fire, but keeps you warm.

But warmth has never been enough to stop you from craving the burn.

You sit up, legs swinging over the side of the bed, toes curling against the cold wood floor as you try to shake the dream from your mind, but it clings to you like a second skin. You know then, in that moment, that something has to give. Something has to change.

You can’t keep pretending that Quinn isn’t still under your skin, still a part of you. You can’t keep pretending that this is sustainable, that you can shove him into the darkest corners of your mind and expect him to stay there. Because he won’t. He never has.

You take a shaky breath, your fingers curling into the sheets. There are only two choices now. You either find a way to finally, truly exorcize him from your life for good — or you give in to the pull that’s been dragging you back to him since the moment he told you he missed you.

The clock on your side table reads a quarter past midnight. You know Quinn’s habits. You know how they used to contradict yours, the way his mind would keep him up until the early hours of the morning. He’s probably up. He’s probably thinking hockey. Thinking about how he can change, how he can improve, how he can lead better. You wonder if maybe his mind slips from hockey. Maybe it slips to you?

So you do something reckless. Something you swore you wouldn’t do.

You get up. You grab your vest and your keys, not bothering to change into proper clothing. You ignore the tightness in your chest as you slip out of Caleb’s apartment, moving through the cold, empty parking garage like a ghost yourself, drawn by something you don’t understand but can’t resist. Your internal autopilot takes you down a familiar route, your heart pounding with every turn you take.

You don’t know what you’re expecting as you approach Quinn’s building, but you hope it’s still the same one. Hope that, for all the ways things have changed, this one thing remains the same. Because if it doesn’t — if you get to his door and find a stranger behind it, or worse, nothing at all — you don’t know what you’ll do.

But when you step inside the familiar lobby, heart hammering against your ribs, your breath leaves you in a rush. It’s the same. The same floors, the same dim lighting, the same quiet hum of the elevator as you press the button for his floor. Your stomach twists as you watch the numbers climb, each one bringing you closer to something you might not be able to take back.

By the time you’re standing in front of his door, your entire body is buzzing with nervous energy, hands clenched into fists at your sides. The reality of what you’re doing crashes into you all at once, but it’s too late to turn back now. You’re here. You’ve already made your choice.

You raise your hand, knocking twice, sharp and decisive.

Seconds pass. Then more. And just as doubt begins to creep in — just as you think maybe, mercifully, he’s not home — the lock clicks. The door swings open, and there he is.

Quinn.

His hair is tousled, dark strands falling over his forehead like he’s been running his hands through it all night. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, and for a brief, excruciating second, you imagine how he must look underneath — imagine the way his body must still move, still feel.

His eyes widen when he sees you, surprise flickering across his face before something else settles there — something heavier, unreadable. His brow furrows as his gaze sweeps over you, taking in the obvious signs that you’d been asleep before rushing over. The floral sleep shorts, the hoodie far too thin for the cold, the puffer vest thrown on in haste. The messy, low braid, the fuzzy slippers, the oversized glasses that Quinn always thought were too big for your face — but you looked so damn cute in them.

“What are you doing here?” Quinn's voice is rough, like he hasn’t spoken in hours, maybe even like he’s just woken up, though you know that not to be the case. Or maybe it’s just the weight of the moment settling between you, thick and heavy like fog rolling in over the water.

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. Now that you’re standing here, now that you’ve actually done this, the words don’t come as easily as they did in your head. But you didn’t come all this way to back down now.

“I—” you falter, inhaling sharply before forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I needed to talk to you.”

Quinn studies you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he steps back, pulling the door open wider. The second you cross the threshold, it’s like stepping back in time. His apartment smells the same — clean, but lived in, a mix of laundry detergent and something inherently him. The familiarity sends a pang straight through your chest. You shouldn’t still remember these details. You shouldn’t still care. But you do.

He closes the door behind you, and when you turn to face him, the air between you feels thick, charged. His arms are crossed, his stance guarded, like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’re about to say.

“So?” His voice is quieter now, tinged with something that almost sounds like resignation. “What did you need to talk about?”

Your fingers tighten into fists at your sides. You remind yourself why you’re here. Why you needed to see him.

“You shouldn’t have said it.” The words slip from your lips before you can stop them.

Quinn’s jaw tenses. “Said what?”

“You know what.”

Silence stretches between you, taut and unyielding. He knows. You know he knows. And yet, he just watches you, waiting.

You exhale harshly, frustration bubbling beneath your skin. “At the party. You shouldn’t have told me you missed me.”

Quinn’s throat bobs as he swallows. His arms drop to his sides. “Why not?”

“Because it messed with my head,” you admit, voice cracking slightly. “Because I was fine. I was moving on.”

He scoffs softly, shaking his head. “Were you?”

“I was,” you insist, even though your voice lacks the conviction you wish it had. The words sound brittle, as fragile as glass. “I was happy, Quinn. I was growing. Moving forward. And then you—” You break off, shaking your head as the emotions rise, thick and suffocating in your throat. “Then you showed up and dragged me right back to where I was before. Heartbroken over you.”

Quinn flinches, but it’s fleeting. He schools his features into something colder, unreadable. You almost wish he wouldn’t. You almost want him to hurt the way you’ve been hurting.

“I’m with Caleb now,” you say, the name a tether, an anchor you cling to. “And he’s—he’s incredible, Quinn. Everything a girl would ever hope for in a boyfriend.”

Quinn’s eyes darken, but you barrel on, desperate to get the words out before they choke you. “He’s thoughtful. He listens. He shows up. God, he’s everything you weren’t.”

The silence that follows is deafening. For a second, you wonder if you’ve gone too far, if the bitterness in your voice has crossed a line you’ll regret. But then Quinn speaks, and his words slice through you like a blade.

“Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself that he’s enough for you.”

The audacity of it — the sheer nerve — snaps something inside you.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” you snap, your voice trembling with fury. Quinn doesn’t back down. His gaze is steady, unflinching, and it infuriates you.

“I mean, God! You’re haunting me, Quinn! Like some goddamn ghost with a vengeance.” The words spill out before you can stop them, raw and unfiltered. “Ever since that stupid party, you’ve been everywhere. In my head, in my dreams, even when I’m with Caleb—”

You stop yourself, but it’s too late. The truth hangs in the air between you, heavy and damning.

Quinn’s brow knits together, eyes sharp with something knowing. “Even when you’re with Caleb?” he repeats, voice low.

You hate him for that. Hate the way he can see right through you, the way he always has.

“Forget it… You know you’re so goddamn infuriating the way you think you can just walk back into my life and tell me something like that!” you say, your volume raising with every word. You knew it was late and Quinns’ neighbors would probably have some choice words for him in the morning, but right now you couldn’t care less about his reputation as a tenant.

Something flickers in his gaze, something guilty, something hesitant. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, don’t,” you snap. “Don’t fucking say you didn’t mean to. You knew what you were doing.”

He swallows hard, his jaw tightening. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s it?” You shake your head, laughter bubbling up again, but it’s hollow, bitter. “That’s all you have to say? No genuine apology, no explanation, nothing. Just… sorry. Sorry for what, Quinn? Sorry for being a coward, sorry for being a fucking asshole?”

Your voice cracks as you continue, the weight of your emotions finally breaking through the thin veneer of anger you've clung to. Tears blur your vision, hot and relentless, but you don’t stop. You can’t.

“Sorry for letting me fall in love with you and then walking away like it was nothing? Sorry for showing up at that party and throwing my entire goddamn life into chaos? Sorry for being in my head all the time, in my bed, in my fucking heart?” Your voice falters, raw and ragged. “Or are you just sorry because I showed up here and ruined your night?”

Quinn takes a step closer, his face tight with emotion, but you don’t give him a chance to speak.

“You ruined me, Quinn,” you sob, the admission wrenching free from your chest. “And I hate you for it. I hate that I can’t forget you. I hate that no matter how hard I try, you’re still here.” You press a shaking hand to your chest, where your heart feels like it’s splintering apart. “I should be over this. I should be happy. I am happy. Caleb is good. He loves me—”

Your voice breaks completely, and the tears come in earnest now, unstoppable and all-consuming. Your shoulders shake with the force of it, all the pain and confusion and longing spilling out in a way you’ve never let yourself feel before.

Through your sobs, you manage to choke out one final, devastating truth: “But I still love you, and I hate myself for it.”

The weight of your confession hangs heavy in the room, and for a moment, there’s only the sound of your ragged breathing and the thick, oppressive silence that follows.

And then Quinn moves.

He crosses the distance between you in two long strides, his hands coming up to gently but firmly grip your shoulders. You try to pull away, ashamed of your outburst, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace that’s as familiar as it is shattering.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “God, I’m so sorry.”

His words are a balm and a blade all at once. You press your face against his hoodie, the fabric dampening your tears, and you cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping you upright. His hand rubs slow, soothing circles on your back, grounding you in the midst of your chaos.

For a moment, you let yourself sink into him, the comfort of his presence erasing everything else. His warmth seeps into your bones, and despite every rational thought screaming at you to pull away, you stay. It's dangerous, how easy it is to fall back into this, how simple it feels to let him hold you like he used to.

“I tried to move on too,” he admits quietly, his voice low and raw. “But it’s you, it’s always been you.”

His words tear through the walls you've built, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. You want to push him away, to tell him to shut up, but your body betrays you, leaning closer instead. It's infuriating, this pull he has on you, this gravitational force that drags you back no matter how far you run.

Then his lips find your temple, lingering there as if he's testing the waters, asking permission without words. You shudder against him, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. His lips move down, pressing soft kisses along the apple of your cheek, until he hits the corner of your mouth. His hand tightens at your waist, and before you can think it through, his mouth is on yours.

It's everything you remember and more.

His lips are soft but insistent, moving against yours with a hunger that matches your own. The anguish melts away, replaced by a desperate, aching need that leaves you breathless. His hands trace up your torso, holding your chest against his, and you let out a sound you can’t contain as he deepens the kiss.

It's intoxicating. Familiar and yet completely new. He tastes like everything you miss, everything you swore you didn't need but always craved.

And for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it.

But then the weight of reality slams into you.

You break away, gasping for breath, your chest heaving. Quinn's eyes are dark and dazed, his lips red and swollen, but you don’t let yourself linger on the sight. You push him back, putting space between you, your heart pounding so loudly you can hear it in your ears.

“What the hell are you doing?” you demand, your voice shaking with anger and confusion. “You can’t just— God, Quinn, you can’t just kiss me and expect everything to be okay!”

He takes a step toward you, but you hold up a hand, stopping him. “No. Don’t. Just… don’t.”

The tears are back, blurring your vision, but you blink them away. “You don’t get to ruin me and then kiss me like it fixes everything. That’s not how this works.”

Silence stretches between you, thick with tension. Quinn looks like he wants to say something, but you don’t give him the chance. You’re already moving toward the door, your hands trembling as you reach for the handle.

“Wait,” he says, his voice desperate. “Please— don’t leave like this.”

You pause, your back to him, your shoulders stiff. “I can’t do this, Quinn. I just… I can’t.”

And then you’re gone.

You don’t look back as you walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps echoing in your ears. Your chest feels like it’s caving in, your lungs struggling to take in air. But you keep moving, keep walking, because stopping would mean facing the truth you’re not ready to confront.

That no matter how much you hate him for complicating your life, for breaking your heart, for being the chaos in your carefully constructed world — you can’t fully hate him.

Because deep down, you still love him.

And that terrifies you more than anything else.

[luvvictoria]

Just thinking about Experimental Combat Android!Ghost — a machine built for war, cold, precise, and lethal… until you come along and start making him glitch.

Android!Ghost – A classified military experiment. Ghost isn’t just a machine; he’s the machine. The most advanced combat android ever built, designed to be faster, stronger, and deadlier than any human soldier.

Android!Ghost - " Machines don’t feel." – That’s what they told you when you were assigned to work with him. You were supposed to monitor his efficiency, his combat skills—not question why he sometimes hesitates before pulling the trigger, or why his responses sound too… human.

Android!Ghost - The "Glitch" – At first, it’s subtle. Ghost starts reacting to you in ways he shouldn’t—his head tilting slightly when you laugh, lingering when you touch his armor to make adjustments. But then, it escalates. He shields you when he should be prioritizing the mission. His voice lowers when he speaks your name. His grip tightens when someone else gets too close.

Android!Ghost - "I was built to kill. Not to want." – Ghost isn’t supposed to feel things like possessiveness, protectiveness, or the deep pull in his circuits whenever you look at him like he’s more than a machine. And yet… he does.

Android!Ghost – What if he chooses to evolve? To overwrite his own code? To become something beyond what he was programmed to be—for you?

This could be SO good with a mix of tension, slow-burn, and that delicious dynamic of “machine built for destruction, but somehow, he only softens for you.” 😏 IDK IDK BUT LIKE THINK ABOUT THIS !!!

Android!Ghost is built like a war machine. Advanced nanotech alloy plating, reinforced joints, enhanced reflexes—he’s stronger, faster, and near-indestructible. The ultimate super-soldier.

Android!Ghost's voice is deep, modulated, and just slightly too perfect. There’s a smooth, synthetic quality to it—like a ghost of a real voice. But when he speaks your name, it sounds… softer. Less programmed.

Android!Ghost has no heartbeat. No warmth. But when he places a gloved hand against your chest, his fingers linger, pressing—as if he’s trying to understand what it means.

Android!Ghost can see in the dark, detect heat signatures, and process thousands of calculations in seconds. And yet… for some reason… he still watches you like he can’t predict you.

Android!Ghost's face is a blank metal mask with faintly glowing optics. But when he looks at you, his gaze lingers a little too long. His processors stall for half a second too much.

Android!Ghost who shouldn’t be protective. He was programmed to protect the mission—not individuals. And yet, when a bullet flies toward you, he’s in front of you before you can even react, taking the hit like it’s nothing.

Android!Ghost doesn’t breathe. But sometimes, you swear you hear something like a sigh—an artificial exhale when he’s near you. Like a machine trying to imitate what it once was.

Android!Ghost never questioned orders—until you. The first time you ask, “Are you okay?” after a mission, he hesitates. His AI stutters. “I do not require… concern.” But something in him doesn’t process that answer as correct.

Android!Ghost starts favoring your commands. Technically, you’re not his superior. But when you say, “Ghost, stand down,” he does—even when HQ is still yelling for him to attack.

Android!Ghost studies your expressions. You tell yourself it’s just a quirk in his AI, but when you frown, he tilts his head—adjusting. Learning. Like he wants to understand.

Android!Ghost recognizes your footsteps. Out of a whole base of soldiers, he knows when it’s you walking in. His systems pick up the pattern immediately—his synthetic muscles shifting, adjusting.

Android!Ghost's reactions to you are… different. You lightly smack his shoulder one day, jokingly, and his whole system lags for 0.4 seconds before rebooting.

Android!Ghost should not dream. And yet, there are nights when he powers down and reboots with data fragments he does not recognize—memories that feel too human.

Android!Ghost's grip is gentle with you—always. He could crush a skull with his bare hands. But when he touches you? He calibrates his strength to the softest pressure.

Android!Ghost never lets you walk into danger alone. He was not programmed for fear. But the thought of losing you makes something in his systems glitch—his servos locking up, refusing to let you go forward without him.

Android!Ghost's voice softens when he speaks to you. At first, you think it’s just your imagination. But no—his tone modulation shifts only for you.

Android!Ghost who one day, overrides his programming. The mission demands he leave you behind. But instead—he grabs you and runs. His directives be damned.

Android!Ghost chooses you over the mission. That’s when the military realizes: he’s defective.

Android!Ghost's creators want to reset him—to wipe whatever has made him too human. But he resists.

“You cannot take me from her.” His voice crackles. His systems struggle. But he fights back.

Android!Ghost goes rogue. And you? You’re the only person left in the world that he trusts.

I'M GOING FERAL WOHHHHH

[heliosunny]

Food for though???

How about yan phainon with someone as strong as mage reader?

I have reread all your anaxa's and phainon's fic for at least 10 times now haha

I need more crumbs of them if you don't mind :)

Yandere!Phainon x Elf!Reader

The moment Phainon saw you, he knew you were the key to victory. Elves were rare. Your kind did not meddle in mortal wars. Yet here you stood, radiant beneath the silver moon, your eyes as cold and unyielding as an untouched winter. You were beautiful, yes, but it was not beauty that made him fixate on you. It was power.

Elves were creatures of magic, of ancient spells and untamed energy. And Phainon, a warrior hardened by battle and ambition, was not a man who let go of what he needed.

“We will slay the dragon” he had told you, his voice rich with conviction. “And with your magic, the battle will be won.”

You had laughed. A cruel, elegant sound. “You think I would fight for you? How arrogant.”

He had expected resistance, but not the way you looked at him, as if he were beneath you. “I have no reason to help you, human.”

You turned, walking away, your regal posture exuding the pride of your kind. “You should know better than to chase what you cannot have.”

Phainon clenched his fists as he watched you disappear into the dense forests of your homeland. He did not believe in fate. But he did believe in taking what was meant to be his.

The enchanted woods around your home pulsed with the hum of old magic. No mortal should have been able to step foot here. Yet the moment you opened your door, he was there. Phainon stood just beyond the threshold, unshaken by the forces that should have repelled him. His tall, muscular frame cast a long shadow under the moonlight, his silver-white hair barely ruffled by the wind. His piercing blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent an unfamiliar chill down your spine.

Your fingers twitched, summoning the magic coiling beneath your skin. “You should not be here.”

He smirked, stepping forward. “And yet,” he murmured, “I am.”

Your magic should have burned him alive. The protective spells weaved into these lands should have swallowed him whole. And yet he stood there, untouched, unafraid. “You should leave” you warned. “Before I make you.”

Phainon exhaled a slow breath, as if amused by your defiance. “You are strong. But you already know that, don’t you?”

You stepped back.“I do not seek power.”

“But power seeks you.” His gaze flickered over you, sharp and assessing. “I came here because I refuse to accept a world where you waste yourself in solitude. You belong somewhere greater than this.”

“I belong to no one” you snapped.

His lips curled. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

“You think I will stop?” His voice was softer now, too gentle for the weight it carried. “That I will let you walk away?”

Why was he so certain?

“You will fight by my side” Phainon continued “Not because I force you—but because you will see the truth in my words. The world is cruel, and you and I are the only ones who can shape it as we see fit.”

His hand reached out, and before you could move, he brushed his fingers against your hair. “You are wasting your freedom here” he whispered. “Come with me.”

For the first time, you feared that no amount of magic would ever keep him away.

Phainon whispered. “Come with me.”

You did not answer. The night air was thick with tension, the weight of his presence pressing against your senses. Your magic flickered at your fingertips, a silent warning.

But Phainon, the arrogant human that he was, stood unshaken. His piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, unrelenting.

“You should leave” you said coolly, power thrumming beneath your skin. “Now.”

Phainon exhaled slowly, tilting his head. “And if I refuse?”

You didn’t hesitate. A pulse of magic shot through the air, the wind bending to your will. The trees trembled as roots twisted and surged from the ground, forming a barricade between you and him. Phainon barely had time to react before the earth beneath him split open, a powerful gust aiming to throw him out of your land. But just as quickly—he countered.

With a sharp movement, his foot slammed into the ground, sending a shockwave through the soil. Your attack faltered. The roots stilled, the wind dissipated. Your eyes narrowed. He met your gaze with quiet amusement.

“You are strong” he admitted. “Stronger than most.”

Your magic sparked again, an unspoken challenge. “And yet you still think you can control me?”

Phainon smiled. “Not control” he corrected. “Persuade.”

Your patience thinned. The audacity.

“I have no reason to fight for you, human.” Your voice was sharp, edged with warning. “Whatever goal you seek, find another fool to chase it for you.”

“I do not want just anyone.” His voice dipped lower, holding something dangerous beneath its smoothness. “I want you.”

Your magic pulsed again, a silent stay back. Phainon did not step away. “If you truly wished for me to leave” he murmured, “you would have cast me out by now.” A spark of anger flared in your chest. He was testing you.

“Careful, human!” you warned, power surging around you. “I do not take kindly to those who overstep their place.”

Phainon chuckled, unbothered. The wind howled between you, as if caught in the battle of wills. He did not command your power, nor did he steal it from you. He was your equal. And that was what made him dangerous. “You are too proud to admit it,” he said, “but you feel it, don’t you?”

His gaze burned into yours.

“The way our strengths match. The way the world is shifting. You are meant for something greater than hiding away in these woods.”

“I belong where I choose to belong.”

Phainon tilted his head. “But you hesitate.”

Your grip tightened on the staff at your side. “You mistake patience for hesitation.”

“Then prove it.” Power crackled in the space between you. An unspoken challenge. A battle neither of you wanted to lose. Phainon wasn’t just a warrior—he was a strategist. He would not fight you outright, not when he could break your resolve first. But he had made a mistake. You were not so easily broken.

With a flick of your wrist, the wind surged again, surrounding you both in a vortex of raw power. His silver-white hair whipped in the storm, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with something dark, something fascinated. “You can chase, human” you said coldly, daring him to try. “But you will never catch me.” And with that—you vanished into the night.

Phainon stood amidst the fading echoes of your power, exhaling a slow breath. His fingers curled slightly, the lingering warmth of your magic still brushing against his skin. “We shall see, little elf.”

The moment you vanished into the forest, Phainon chased after you. You had expected as much. He was stubborn.

A man who refused to accept defeat. The trees bent to your will, shifting and closing behind you, creating a maze of ancient roots and thickened shadows. A path only an elf could navigate. Yet Phainon kept coming. Your sharp ears caught the sound of his boots crushing the damp earth, his breath steady even as he pursued you through the labyrinth of enchanted wood. He was too fast for a human. You exhaled sharply, then turned and struck.

A bolt of pure energy exploded from your palm, crackling toward him like lightning. The ground trembled under its force. But Phainon did not falter. His hand shot up, and with a powerful sweep of his arm, his own energy surged to meet yours. The impact shattered the air between you, sending sparks flying. You did not give him a chance to recover. Spinning, you summoned the wind itself, a fierce gust howling through the trees. The air twisted into blades, razor-sharp and merciless. Phainon moved like a warrior born for battle. He dodged the first strike, his body shifting with trained precision. The second, he deflected with a sudden pulse of his own energy. The third—he met head-on.

Steel clashed against magic as he drew his sword, the blade slicing through your spell in a brilliant arc of silver light. You narrowed your eyes. So, he wished to test his luck with weapons? You raised your hand and the forest answered. Vines lashed out from the earth, twisting toward him like living serpents. The ground itself shifted beneath him, forcing him off balance. You lunged, striking with a burst of raw force meant to drive him away for good.

Phainon caught your wrist. The moment his fingers closed around you, time seemed to slow. His grip was firm, heated from the battle, unyielding in its certainty. His blue eyes burned with something almost unreadable—frustration, fascination. “Still running?”

You met his gaze, lips curling. “Still chasing?” A surge of magic exploded from your body, sending him flying back. He landed with a skid, his boots dragging against the dirt. For the first time since the battle began, Phainon gritted his teeth. He was enjoying this—too much. But you were not about to let him have his way. Just as you stepped forward to finish the fight

“Phainon!” A voice cut through the chaos.

A blur of movement, then a figure stepped between you. One of his companions, someone from his so-called team. They held up their hands, panting. “Enough! We don’t have time for this!”

Phainon did not move. His gaze was still locked onto yours. You could see it in his eyes, the pure, unfiltered fury at being interrupted. But the presence of his ally forced him to pause.

You, on the other hand, felt something entirely different. Relief. Victory. Freedom.

You met Phainon’s gaze one last time, satisfied. “It seems your people have more sense than you do.” Then, without another word, you turned and disappeared back into the forest.

This time, he did not follow. “You should have let me handle it.”

His companion shifted uncomfortably. “You were wasting time, Phainon. The dragon is nothing compared to that elf.”

His hand was still clenched at his side, the phantom warmth of your magic still burning against his skin. You had been so close. And yet, you had slipped away.

You were happy. You thought you had won.

How naive.

Phainon exhaled slowly, forcing himself to smile. “It doesn’t matter, that elf will come back.” he said.

His companion frowned. “You don’t know that.”

Phainon’s eyes gleamed. “Oh” he murmured, voice as smooth as silk. “I do.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, the forest was silent. The stars shimmered above, casting their soft glow over the elven village hidden deep within the ancient woods. The air carried the scent of blooming night flowers, and the distant hum of magic pulsed beneath the earth, a reminder that you were home. Far from him.

You let out a slow breath, fingers grazing the carved wooden railing of your balcony. The battle with Phainon had left a lingering fire in your veins, but here, surrounded by the familiar embrace of your homeland, that fire began to settle. You had won.

The moment was shattered by an unnatural stillness. A presence. A disturbance. Your muscles tensed. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it something foreign, something human.

“I expected more of a welcome, little elf.” Your heart lurched. You turned and there he was. Phainon stood at the edge of your balcony, as if he belonged there. His silver-white hair was tousled from travel, his blue eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. He had no right to be here.

Rage surged in your chest. “How dare you—”

“You ran” he interrupted smoothly. “Did you think I would simply accept that?”

“You are trespassing.”

He took a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. “You call it trespassing” he murmured. “I call it persistence.”

Your patience snapped. With a flick of your wrist, the wind howled. The very air turned against him, slamming into his chest with enough force to send him over the edge of the balcony. But he did not fall.

Phainon twisted, landing gracefully on the wooden floor as if he had expected the attack.

You scowled. “Leave.”

“No.” The sheer audacity of his defiance made your magic crackle.

“You are bold for a human.”

“And you are stubborn for an elf.”

You didn’t waste time on more words. Another surge of magic lashed out, this time, roots from the balcony coiled like serpents, aiming to bind him, force him away. Phainon moved faster. In one swift motion, he dodged, closing the distance between you. Before you could react, his hand grasped your wrist. A spark shot through you, not pain, but power clashing against power.

“Let go” you snarled, magic flaring. Phainon held firm. He was not trying to overpower you, he was forcing you to listen.

“You waste your strength fighting me” he said lowly, his voice like embers smoldering in the dark. “When you could use it for something greater.”

Your jaw clenched. “I have no desire to follow you.” His grip tightened just enough to make you feel the weight of his presence, the sheer determination in his stance.

“You think your home will protect you from the world” he continued, his voice deceptively calm. “But your peace is a lie.”

“Stay here, and you will be safe—for now” Phainon murmured. “But what happens when the world comes for you? When your strength is needed, but you are too late to act?”

Your throat tightened. “Join me” he pressed, his voice dipping lower. “Not because I demand it, but because you and I both know, you were meant for more than this.”

Your magic pulsed, but so did his conviction. The moment stretched, your will clashing against his in a battle that was not fought with weapons, but with unspoken truths.

Another presence, a flicker of movement in the trees. Phainon’s hold on you loosened. Someone was coming. You wasted no time. You pulled back, stepping away from him.

“This is not over” Phainon said, his voice a promise. But you only smiled.

“You are right” you murmured.

The moment you disappeared into the shadows, Phainon stood still, his breath slow and controlled, but his patience frayed at the edges. You had run. Again. You were slipping away. And Phainon hated it. His jaw clenched. The moment had been perfect, too perfect. He had forced you to listen, to see things his way. You had felt the weight of his words, the undeniable truth in them. He had seen it in your eyes. Yet, before he could break through, someone had come. A bitter laugh rumbled in his chest. Of course, fate always seemed to conspire against him. He turned sharply, striding back into the depths of the forest.

He would not linger like a lovesick fool. No, he had work to do. If persuasion would not bring you to his side, then perhaps… pressure would.

By the time Phainon reached his camp, his team was already waiting. One of them, the same one who had interrupted, rose to speak, but at the sight of his expression, they hesitated.

“Gather information” he ordered, his voice edged with command. “Every weakness. Every tie they have outside their sanctuary.”

His second-in-command frowned. “You mean the elves?”

Phainon’s fingers curled into a fist. Not the elves. You. The village was sacred, shielded by magic. But you were not a prisoner there. Eventually, you would have to step beyond its borders to explore, to act, to seek. And when you did—he would be waiting.

“Find out everything” he continued. “Where they go. Who they trust. What would make them reconsider their decision.”

Because that was all he needed. One moment of doubt. One opportunity. You had chosen to turn away from him, to cling to your false peace. But peace was fragile. And when it was, you would have no choice but to turn to him.

The elven village glowed softly beneath the moonlight, nestled deep within the ancient forest. It was a place untouched by human hands, serene, untamed. And yet, none of it compared to you. Phainon stood hidden in the trees, his sharp gaze locked onto the balcony where you stood. You were unaware of his presence, your expression calm, the tension from your earlier battle with him having melted into something softer. It was rare to see you like this. You had no idea how much you infuriated him. Your power, your beauty, your sheer stubbornness. Everything about you defied reason, yet he could not let you go.

He had chased you across forests and battlefields. He had fought you, reasoned with you, tested your limits. And still, you resisted.

Would it always be this way? Would you ever truly stand at his side?

The thought alone made something dark coil in his chest. No. He refused to let that be the outcome. But before he could dwell further, the forest moved. A low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows. Phainon barely had time to react before the beasts emerged. Large, otherworldly creatures slithered between the trees, their glowing eyes locking onto him with primal hostility. Guardians. Born of ancient magic, raised by the elves. And they had sensed an intruder.

Phainon clicked his tongue. The first lunged. He sidestepped with ease, unsheathing his blade in one fluid motion. The second came faster, claws swiping at his chest, forcing him to parry. They were testing him. But Phainon was not a man who bowed to monsters. His eyes narrowed, and his stance shifted. If they wanted to challenge him, he would answer. Magic crackled at his fingertips, and just as he moved to strike— “Stop.” Your voice rang through the clearing.

The moment the creatures heard you, they halted. The tension in the air was thick as you stepped forward, your gaze sharp. The beasts reluctantly pulled back, still watching Phainon with suspicion. “He is not a threat” you said firmly.

Phainon felt the weight of your words, the way the creatures hesitated, then obeyed. Because of you. Only because of you.

You met his gaze, expression unreadable. For a brief moment, Phainon wondered- was this it? Had you changed your mind? Had you finally begun to see reason?

But then you spoke. “Leave.”

His fingers curled. You were still fighting him. Even after defending him, you were still denying him. Phainon let out a slow breath, forcing down his frustration.

Fine. If you would not come willingly, then he would simply make sure you had no choice.

Phainon did not stop walking until he was far from the village. The distant calls of the creatures still echoed behind him, but his mind was elsewhere. Even after seeing you in your element, even after witnessing your world, your people, your peace, his resolve did not waver. If anything, it hardened. You would never break on your own. So he would make sure you had no choice. You had been given the chance to surrender—to accept him. And you had refused.

Then let the game truly begin.

It started with small things. A misplaced book. A candle that flickered despite the absence of wind. A familiar path that suddenly felt… unfamiliar. You noticed them at first only in passing, minor inconveniences, nothing worth dwelling on. The village was alive with magic, after all. Spirits stirred. Shadows danced. The forest had a will of its own, shifting ever so slightly like a living entity.

But then the changes became too frequent. Too deliberate. One evening, as you entered your home, you found your chair moved. Not by much, just a few inches. But enough that your eyes lingered on it. Had you moved it earlier and simply forgotten? You shook the thought away.

Then, a few nights later, you awoke to the sensation of being watched. The room was silent, moonlight filtering through the window. Your heartbeat remained steady, yet your instincts whispered: something was off. Your gaze flickered toward the doorway. The wooden frame stood empty, yet the air beyond it felt… occupied. A trick of the mind, you told yourself. And yet, the feeling remained.

The entire village felt different. The laughter of the elves had softened, their usual warmth replaced with hushed voices. The creatures raised among your people, the guardians that had attacked Phainon grew restless. They paced near the borders, sniffing the air, their hackles rising at unseen threats. You reached out to one of them, fingers brushing against thick fur. The beast trembled under your touch. “What is it?” you murmured. It did not answer, but its ears flattened as it stared beyond the trees—toward the deeper woods. Toward the world outside. A world where he was.

Phainon. No. He was gone. He had left. You had seen him disappear into the shadows yourself. He wouldn’t return so soon. Would he?

Your belongings began to vanish. At first, it was small things—a hairpin, a letter, a single page missing from an old book. Then, something more personal. A bracelet. One you had worn since childhood, crafted from the enchanted silver of your people. It was bound to you through magic, it should not have been able to leave your side. Yet, when you reached for it one morning, it was gone.

Panic clawed at your chest. You searched every inch of your home, retracing your steps, trying to rationalize the impossibility. But deep down, you knew. This was no accident. Someone had taken it.

The barrier weakens.

That night, the village wards flickered. The protective magic surrounding your home, woven into the very trees themselves, had remained unbroken for centuries. Unshaken. Impenetrable. Until now.

You stood at the edge of the forest, staring at the faint shimmer of the barrier. It pulsed weakly, its usual glow dim. Someone was testing its limits. And you already knew who. You turned, heart pounding.

For the first time since his departure, you felt him. Not through sight, not through sound, but through an instinct deeper than words. Phainon was close. Not within the village. Not yet. But near enough that his presence curled around the edges of your world.

Your peace was shattering. The forest was eerily silent as you moved through the shadows, your every step measured. The disturbances—the missing bracelet, the flickering wards, the feeling of being watched had been warnings. And you had ignored them for too long.

You would find Phainon. And you would end this game.

He was close. You knew it. And then, you saw him.

Leaning against a tree, bathed in silver moonlight, Phainon stood waiting. As if he had known you would come. His silver-white hair gleamed under the night sky.

He looked at you the way a predator regarded prey. “Finally” he murmured. “I was wondering when you’d stop pretending you could ignore me.”

Your hands curled into fists. “You never left.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You’ve been watching me. Manipulating my home, my people—”

“I gave you time” he interrupted smoothly. “Time to see reason. Time to accept that what I offer is better than this illusion of peace you cling to.”

“You think you know what’s best for me?”

Phainon stepped closer, his expression darkening. “Yes.”

You struck first. A burst of magic surged from your palm, searing toward him like a silver blade. Phainon barely dodged, twisting just in time. His own magic flared—sharp, raw power slamming against yours in a storm of light and force. The ground beneath you shook. Every blow you traded was a challenge. Every movement a declaration. He was fast, calculating. But you were his equal. And yet

“You hesitate.” His voice cut through the clash of magic. “You could have killed me just now.”

You had aimed for his shoulder, not his throat. Not the killing blow. He laughed. “You’re already doubting yourself.”

Your grip tightened around the hilt of your magic-forged blade. “Shut up.”

“You’ve felt it, haven’t you?” He sidestepped another strike, blue eyes gleaming. “That slow, creeping realization. That no matter how much you fight me, I always find my way back to you.”

Phainon saw the flicker of hesitation—and he seized it. “You are powerful” he murmured, dodging another blast of energy, his voice weaving through the chaos like silk. “Beautiful. Unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” He stepped closer. “You could have anything.” Closer. “Yet you stand here, wasting your strength protecting a world that will never understand you the way I do.”

The battle stopped. Your breath hitched, the warmth of his skin searing against yours. His voice dropped lower, softer—intoxicating. “You belong with me.”

“Enough!” A third presence. You barely had time to register it before something struck between you and Phainon.

A force strong enough to send both of you stumbling apart.

One of his allies.

Phainon’s head snapped to the side, annoyance flickering across his face. Whoever had interrupted had done so at the worst possible moment—for him.

For you? It was salvation.

Phainon’s grip on your wrist loosened just enough and you ran.

As you disappeared into the trees, you felt the weight of his gaze lingering. Phainon would not let this be the end. Not until he had you.

Branches clawed at your skin as you sprinted through the forest, breath ragged, magic flickering at your fingertips. The village was close—so close. But he was faster. A hand snatched your wrist mid-step, yanking you back. Your balance shattered as you crashed into his chest—solid, unyielding. Phainon’s arms wrapped around you in an iron grip, his strength overwhelming. You struggled, thrashing, magic surging, but it was too late.

His voice rumbled against your ear, low and triumphant. “You’re not going back.”

A sickening pulse of magic erupted from him, swallowing you whole. The world shifted. The forest dissolved into darkness. The village, your home—vanished. And when your vision cleared, you were no longer in the woods. You stood in a vast chamber, encased in stone and silver. The air was thick with his power.

Phainon still held you, unshaken. “You fought well” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch disturbingly gentle. “But this was always how it was going to end.”

“You—” Your voice was raw. “Let me go.”

He smiled. “No.” Phainon exhaled, pressing his forehead against yours, savoring the moment. “This time, you’re staying with me.”

[witchygagirlwrites]

Jay Halstead x Reader

Jay wants you but won't admit it until he sees someone else wanting you

Sex, clothed sex in the precinct?

You sat next to Kim, trying to listen as her and Adam told you about something Makayla was doing at school. You were desperately trying to act like your attention wasn’t on your partner or the way his lips moved around the edge of that beer bottle, the way his hand gripped it. Fuck, you were losing your shit. Hailey bumped you lightly and whispered “Are you good?” 

You shook yourself out of your stupor and nodded “Yeah, I’m um gonna go pay my tab” she nodded and slid back to let you move over her legs out of the booth. “Hey, hold up. I’ll walk with you. Need to pay mine too” Jay called and you tried not to show on your face that you were mentally cursing. You needed a breather away from him. You weren’t sure what the hell was going on lately between you and your partner of the last two years but the dynamic had shifted and it was choking you.

You forced a smile onto your face and cut your eyes at him as you made it over Hailey’s legs “Well come on then Halstead. I don’t go all night” he rolled his eyes “Like you got anywhere to be” you shrugged “Sorry if all of us don’t keep a rotation of beds to hop out of like some people” and grinned when he shook his head. 

You walked off from the table and heard his footsteps right before his hand brushed your lower back “You know I don’t have no damn rotation” you looked over your shoulder at him and shrugged “None of my business if you do, now is it?” then kept walking. 

When you made it to the bar, you leaned on the end and waved for Herrman. He nodded so you waited and felt Jay staring at you. You finally turned to face him “Yes?” he shook his head “You’ve been quiet tonight. Is something wrong?” A small smile slipped onto your face at the concern in his voice “No Jay, I’m good. I think I’m just tired” he studied your face for a moment then finally nodded “You know if you ever need me, whenever that may be all you have to do is call. I’ll come to you” 

You nodded then let a smirk slip onto your face “What if I call and you got a woman in your bed?” He rolled his eyes “Dammit, I’m trying to be a good friend, a good partner and you gotta call me a slut” You gasped lightly, grabbing your chest dramatically “I did not call you a slut! I implied you were!” he took a step closer to you, putting your back against the bar and his chest just a breath away from yours. You cut your eyes up to meet his, swallowing hard as he said “Sweetheart believe it or not I don’t need to be fucking a different woman every night. A real man doesn’t” 

“What does a real man do then Jay?” you asked and he leaned closer, hands caging you in and letting his lips brush the shell of your ear “A real man finds one woman, only needs one woman” he chuckled lightly when you cut your eyes up at him and shoved him, both of you laughing like you hadn’t probably just looked like you were on the verge of making out to the entire bar. “You’re an ass Jay” 

Your heart was pounding in your ears and you were fairly certain your panties were on the verge of being ruined just from that innocent of an interaction. Hell maybe you were the one in need of a random bed to hop into? He grinned “Still being honest”

About that time Herrman came back over and handed Jay a receipt then walked off. “Wait Herrman! My tab!” you called and he looked back with a grin “Your partner paid for ya sweetheart” you looked back at Jay who winked at you “You can get the drinks next time” you shook your head “You’re a pain” he nodded “Been called worse”

“Can I ask a question?” Adam asked and you groaned “You can ask, don’t mean I’m gonna answer” how the hell you’d managed to get stuck with Ruzek when partners had gotten switched around you weren’t sure but Hailey was with Kevin and Kim was with Jay while you were in the damn surveillance van.

“You and Halstead?” you nodded, eyes never leaving the screen but when he didn’t finish the thought you cut your eyes at him “What about me and Jay?” he shrugged “Are you two?” “Are we what Adam?” you asked and he rolled his eyes “Are you sleeping with him?”

“ADAM!” you gasped and he held up his hands defensively “Hey babe, this is a safe space. I have a daughter with my partner. I’m not judging” you shook your head “Christ, no. Ok? Jay doesn’t look at me like that. I’m just his partner” he nodded slowly, turning back to the screen then looked back at you “How do you look at him?” “RUZEK!” you warned and he nodded “Ok ok, sorry sorry”

Were you that obvious even to Adam? Damn what were you gonna do? You couldn’t very well be walking around looking like a love struck puppy at your partner, one of your best friends if he didn’t feel the same. It was pathetic and could ruin your friendship and partnership. “I think he wants you if it helps any” “Kim and Mack are the only reasons I don’t shoot you” you told him and he grinned “Thank god for my girls then”

__________________

All of you stood together after the takedown. You poked at your arm where a bullet had grazed it. It didn’t really hurt, it was just the surface, might need a stitch or two but nothing serious. You heard Voight call your name and turned towards him “Yeah boss?” he nodded towards your arm “You need an ambo?” you shook your head “Hell no. I can drive myself to med” 

“Like hell. I’m driving you to med” Jay spoke from behind you. You turned to see him walking towards you, his eyes glued to your arm. Voight nodded “Ok, Jay take her to med then you two just come back to the precinct. The rest of us will finish up here and meet you two back at the house”

“Yes sir” you replied and Jay nodded towards his truck “Come on” you followed him out. Once the two of you were in his truck, he cut his eyes at you “Are you ok?” you smiled “I’m fine Jay, really” he shook his head “You got grazed sweetheart” you rolled your eyes “Don’t be dramatic Halstead” he reached a hand out to brush against yours “I’m not being dramatic. My partner is bleeding from a bullet” your heart flipped when his hand brushed yours and Adam’s words flashed through your head..nope you were not doing that. “I’ll be ok. Your brother will throw a stitch or two in and boom, I’ll have more scars to explain to any dates that go well”

He shook his head “Any man seeing any part of you and worrying about scars is a fucking idiot” you felt your face warm but played it off by saying “Well you’re lucky men get sexier with scars” he laughed lightly “So do women sweetheart”

“What do you think about this joint task force?” you asked Jay as the two of you sat in his truck, watching a house that was a place of interest. He shrugged “I don’t know. Sometimes other teams play well, other times they get in our way” 

“Guess we’ll see” you replied, eyes staying on the door of the house. He nodded “What happened to that last guy you were dating?” your head whipped around towards him “Lukas? We split like seven months ago Jay”

He nodded “I know. Why did you two split?” you shrugged “Wasn’t the right fit I guess?” “Oh” he replied and you felt a bit put off “Why do you ask?” he shook his head “No reason” you turned to face him “Jay, I can read your bullshit” he shrugged “Was just wondering”

“Why are you perpetually single since you and Erin split?” you asked and he grinned “Wouldn’t you like to know?” and turned his eyes back to the house. Oh this asshole! “Got your eyes on someone?” you asked and he cut his eyes at you “Do you?” oh this was the game he was playing, ok cool. “Nope, not at all” you replied turning to face out of the window but not missing the way he was still watching you intently.

“Don’t date some other asshole who doesn’t understand who you actually are” he added after a moment and you rolled your head to look at him “Don’t date some other bitch who is only interested in the fact that you’re hot. You’re actually more than a pretty face Jay” he grinned “You think I’m pretty?” you rolled your eyes “Christ, shut up!” and shook your head.

Voight stepped out of his office and everyone looked up. “The feds are headed up” all of you stood, walking around to sit on the edges of your desks as Trudy led a team of seven people up the stairs. Three women, three men then an older guy around Voight’s age.Guess a team was really picked to match intelligence this time.

Voight went around and introduced everyone one by one. Sara, Nikki, Henri, Paula, Samuel and Logan. Their boss was George. The decision was to combine the teams and make three teams of four. 

You and Jay ended up getting paired with Nikki and Samuel. Nikki was a bit taller than you with braids and dark brown eyes that were a gorgeous shade and a bright smile. Samuel was around Jay’s height, just as broad with light brown hair that was a big longer but suited him and he had hazel eyes that were damn near the shade of honey at the moment. “Look forward to working with you” he told you with a smile when he shook your hand.

You just did catch Jay’s reaction to Samuel introducing himself to you. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and damn he looked pissed. You cut your eyes at Adam who gave you a “Told ya so” look and rolled your eyes. That did not mean anything. Jay was not jealous..was he? Samuel was an attractive man…maybe you should flirt a little? Not enough to risk the job but enough to show interest? If Jay rose to the bait it would let you know once and for all he wanted you like you wanted him and well if he didn’t then Samuel would still be an option.

____________________

“Samuel, will you check my vest?” Jay normally checked your vest, even over your unit but Hank had encouraged all of you to play nice, right? Jay met your eyes and raised an eyebrow. All of you were gearing up in your blackout gear. This was a big hit and warranted it. Once you were vested you glanced over your shoulder at Samuel and smiled “Thanks honey” and motioned to his hair “Let me help you”

“Oh, ok” he turned and leaned down for you to help him tie his hair back. All the while you could feel Jay’s eyes boring a hole into your skull. Maybe Adam was onto something? Once you had Samuel’s hair fixed you grinned “There ya go” and walked over to Jay who watched you closely “Done flirting?” you cut your eyes at him “Excuse me?” he rolled his eyes “You’ve been flirting with him for hours” you shrugged “And if I want to, no one else wants me” 

He turned to look at you and you met his eyes before shrugging and walking away. You grabbed the rest of your gear along with the mask that slipped down around your neck until it was needed then walked outside. All of you were riding in Nikki’s suv so that was a plus. You headed for it never minding Jay or Samuel.

___________________

“Is she single?” Samuel asked Adam, not realizing Jay could overhear or more so not realizing Adam had moved them to the point to make sure Jay could hear. “As far as I know man. Ask her out after the job though, not before”

Like hell was Jay letting that happen. You were his, not this FBI asshole’s. Woah where did that thought come from? Yeah time it hit it rang true. You were his, he was yours. He wasn’t letting you go without a damn fight because the jealousy he felt wasn’t even warranted. You weren’t his and yet you damn sure felt like you were.

“MOVE MOVE MOVE”

You ran behind Nikki chasing two perps down and both of you hit them hard, rolling them up in the street as Jay and Samuel caught up from cuffing their own perps. “You good?” Jay asked and you nodded, pushing hair back from your face “Fuckin perfect” this damn task force was doing its job. Twenty arrests in the last two days. You were tired and wound up and needed a break from Jay walking around in his damn black out gear looking like well that.

Samuel offered you a hand to your feet so you took it with a smile “Thanks Sam” he nodded “Of course” and you saw Jay’s jaw tighten. “How many more are on Hank and George’s list?” Nikki asked and you grinned “I think we may be done” 

Samuel smirked at you about the time you heard the two men in question calling everyone to circle up. You snatched your perp up while Nikki snatched hers up, both of you passing them off to patrol before heading towards Hank and George.

Hank looked around “Head back to the precinct. We need to do a headcount to make sure but we believe we got all the targets” you let out a breath and grinned “Thank god” then headed for Nikki’s suv.

______________

Jay’s eyes kept flickering towards Samuel. That son of a bitch had every intention to ask you out. He’d heard him talking about it and had caught him checking you out. He’d break his fucking jaw. 

The moment all of you stepped into the precinct he grabbed your arm as soon as you walked into rollup “Hey, we need to talk” you cut your eyes up at him then looked back at Nikki and Samuel “About what?” he shrugged “Five minutes sweetheart” you sighed “Fine”

______________

You let Jay pull you into the tech room and close the door behind himself. “What Halstead?” you asked and he looked at you “Don’t go out with that asshole” you knew you looked as confused as you felt because what the hell was he talking about? “What?” “Sam” he scoffed and you shook your head,  pulling at the collar of your black out gear “I don’t have time for this shit Jay”

You turned to walk out but he grabbed you and the next thing you knew your back was against the wall and Jay was holding you against it, standing over you “I know you want me as bad as I want you” you didn’t say anything so he leaned down, lips just a breath from yours “Say you don’t and I let you go”

“And if I say I do?” you whispered and his lips crashed against yours. You whimpered lightly when his tongue slipped past your lips, tasting every inch of your mouth he could. His hands went to your hips, gripping tightly. He pulled back enough to speak against your lips “I need you please” you nodded “Ok” he smiled against your lips, hands slipping down to work at the belt and zipper of your tach pants. Once they were loose enough he could get his hand in it he wasted no time slipping his fingers down below your panties. He teased your clit with his thumb and when your head fell back against the wall, a gasp leaving you that he had to swallow with a kiss he slipped one thick finger into you, followed by a second.

Your hand went to his wrist, not trying to move it, just needing something to hold onto. “Jay” you moaned lightly and he grinned against your lips “Be quiet baby. Don’t want no one to hear us” you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes going from watching where his fingers were working their way in you up to his eyes “I need more of you Jay” you whispered and his eyes widened “What do you want baby?” 

You ran a hand over the bulge in his pants and a low groan left him “sweetheart, can you be quiet?” you whimpered when his fingers hit a spot deep inside of you “One way to find out. If I’m yours fucking claim me Jay” his forehead fell against yours, fingers slowing inside of you. “Princess, if you’re mine that makes me yours too”

You raised your eyes to him “Then take what’s yours” he pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean before leaving a bruising kiss on your lips. He turned you around, bracing your hands against the wall. You could hear him fighting with the belt and zipper of his pants “I’m gonna take you home with me, take my time” you looked over your shoulder and felt your mouth go dry when he pushed his pants down just far enough his hard cock could slip out “Shit” he grinned “Second thoughts?”

You shook your head “I trust you” he smiled and folded himself over your shoulder to press a kiss to your lips as he pushed your pants down far enough he could line himself up with your opening before sliding in with one hard thrust. “It’s gotta be fast, baby. They’ll realize we’re gone”

You bit down hard on your lip to keep the moan in that wanted to escape from the feeling of him stretching you so damn deliciously “Don’t care, just fuck me please” you whispered and he chuckled “Yes ma’am”

He had one hand at your waist, keeping you upright and the other at your collarbone. He found a rhythm that had his hips snapping into yours at a pace that made your eyes roll back into your head with every damn thrust. “Please don’t stop” you whispered and he laughed. One of his hands came down to your clit, rubbing tight circles. A moan tried to escape you but the hand at your collarbone moved up to your throat, squeezing just enough to cut off the sound before it made it out. The mixture of sensations of his cock slamming into you, his fingers working at your clit and the air getting cut off made your orgasm slam into you so damn hard his hands on you were the only thing keeping you up straight. 

 “Where can I cum?” he groaned, releasing his grip on your neck so you could answer “In me, please” you whimpered and his head fell over on your shoulder “Fuck you want me fallling in love already don’t you?”

He gave a few more hard thrusts then buried himself inside of you, you felt when he came, some of it sliding back down your thighs. “Fuck” you breathed as he moved to pull your pants up then fixed his own. 

He helped you to stand and smiled when he saw how wobbly your legs were. “:You ok?” you nodded, holding onto his arms “I think so” he grinned “Good because like I said, you’re mine but I’m yours too. Got it?” you nodded “Got it”

You heard Adam calling both of your names and your eyes got wide. Yeah there was no way he wasn’t gonna figure out what just happened. “What do we do?” you asked and he grinned “Hope Voight or Platt doesn’t realize?” you shook your head “So much help”

The moment you and Jay stepped out of the tech room Adam’s eyes got wide “Kevin owes me fifty bucks man!” you glared at him “Mention this and I’ll kill you. Say we’re together, that’s fine, risk our jobs, you’re a dead man” he shook his head “I’m not saying shit you horny little fucks straighten up it’s time to tell the feds bye. We can go home within the hour"

You cut your eyes at Jay then nodded “Let’s go say bye in that case. I’m suddenly eager to get out of here” “I bet you are” Adam laughed on the way upstairs.

Jay slipped his hand into yours, just in case Samuel got any ideas. You were officially his, he wasn’t letting you go now. Besides he had so many ideas for when he got you back to his place, to an actual bed with a few hours to spare with you spread out for him. That thought alone had him wrapping an arm around your waist to help your tremoring legs up the stairs a little faster.

You glanced over your shoulder at him and smiled "I'm yours Jay. No need to be jealous" he stopped walking to press a kiss to your lips "I'm yours baby" Adam shook his head "and for once I was right" then kept walking.

[astars-things]

For the Jack Hughes x teenage daughter reader request, would you be comfortable doing reader going through her first break up and him getting upset that she never told him she was dating to begin with? you can chose the ending if you would like!

reader is 16

I looked at my phone and saw a text from my boyfriend, now ex, saying Sorry, I just don’t think this is working out. That was it. No explanation. No closure. I sat there on my bed curled up in a hoodie that was way too big for me, my cheeks damp from crying. My phone in my hand his last text still unread. I knew I should delete it, block him, do something to make it easier, but I couldn’t.

I had been dating Ryan for six months. Six months of secret dates, late-night FaceTime calls, and butterflies every time he smiled at me. And now it was over. Just like that.

I wiped my nose on my sleeve, exhaling shakily. I had been holding in the sobs for too long, trying to be quiet, but apparently, I wasn’t quiet enough.

A knock at my door.

“Y/N?” My dad’s voice was hesitant. “You okay?”

I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to sound normal. “Yeah, just tired.”

There was a pause, then the door creaked open anyway. My dad wasn’t the type to just walk away when he thought something was wrong. I turned my head away, but he wasn’t fooled. His eyes immediately softened when he saw my face.

“Hey…” He sat on the edge of my bed, his brows knitting together. “What happened?”

I shook my head, biting my lip. “It’s stupid.”

Jack Hughes, NHL superstar, my dad, was not easily convinced. He reached over, brushing a tear off my cheek with his thumb. “If it’s got you crying, it’s not stupid.”

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to get into this. But when I saw how genuinely worried he was, something inside me cracked. “Ryan broke up with me,” I whispered.

I felt him stiffen. “Ryan?”

Crap.

I winced, peeking up at him. His expression had completely changed—his jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed, and his usual soft blue eyes hardened with something else.

“Who the hell is Ryan?”

I shrank under his stare. “Dad—”

He stood up, running a hand through his hair. “You were dating someone? Since when?”

My stomach twisted. I had dreaded this conversation. I knew he wouldn’t like it, which was exactly why I never told him. “A few months,” I admitted, my voice small.

He let out a humorless laugh. “A few months? Y/N, are you kidding me? You were dating some guy for months, and I didn’t even know?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out,” I mumbled.

“Well, guess what? I’m freaking out now.”

I flinched at the sharpness in his tone. He sighed immediately after, pressing his fingers to his temples. “Y/N…why didn’t you tell me?”

I sniffled, looking down at my lap. “Because I knew you’d be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Overprotective. Annoying. Acting like I’m still a little kid.”

Dad’s expression softened, but the frustration was still there. He crouched down in front of me, his voice gentler now. “Y/N, I’m your dad. It’s my job to be overprotective. I just—I thought we told each other stuff.”

That stung. Because we did. My dad and I had always been close, ever since I was little. But this was different.

“I didn’t want you to scare him off,” I admitted, wiping my nose. “Or treat me differently.”

He sighed, rubbing his face. “Okay. Okay.” He sat back on the bed, staring at the ceiling like he was processing this information. Then he glanced at me again. “So…Ryan. What happened?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “He said, "Sorry, I just don’t think this is working out."

Dad frowned. “Then he’s an idiot.”

I let out a small, watery laugh. “That’s not helpful.”

“I mean it.” He shook his head. “Anyone who makes my daughter cry like this doesn’t deserve her.”

I felt the tears building again, but this time for a different reason. “I just…I really liked him, Dad.”

“I know, kid.” He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into his side. “I hate that you’re hurting.”

I let myself lean into him, my head resting against his chest like I used to when I was younger. “It just sucks."

He kissed the top of my head. “Yeah, it does.” A beat passed.

“And next time some idiot tries to date you, I’m gonna need a full background check, a resume, and three references.”

I laughed, the first real one all day. “Not happening.”

Jack grinned, squeezing my shoulder. “It was worth a shot.”

[ceslatoil]

Ghost Filbrick AU

So a few weeks ago I was in the group chat and I pitched an idea for a fic (not writing it anytime soon, I have enough projects on my plate for now!) and it’s about the Pines family visiting Ma Pines before she moves to an assisted care facility. Main idea is that Dipper and Mabel meet Filbrick’s ghost who is trying to hinder the move, and the family trying to get him to move on. Lots of family drama ensues.

I wrote like, a scrap of a script draft for it if y’all wanna read it below:

(Scene: The grown ups, including CARYN, STAN, FORD and COOPER, MABEL & DIPPER’s dad, are all up playing cards. CARYN pulls out the Tarot Deck)

Caryn: I call this one “Last Man Standing!” You put down a card and the other player has to put down either the same suit or card number. If someone plays a major arcana card like wheel of fortune or the star, they can switch up the minor arcana suit. If you play death or the tower, the other players draw four. Whoever has zero cards wins!

Dad Pines: Grandma I think you just reverse engineered Uno

Stan: Dad wouldn’t buy us more than one card deck, so we made due with Ma’s tarot.

Ford: I thought it was to keep you from cheating the deck

Caryn: Both things could be true! Now hush.

Stan: … Coop is everything all right with Dipper? It’s not my business but… he seemed pretty cagey with ya earlier.

Caryn: Cagey? The kid stormed out of the room in the middle of dinner! Granted it was *my* cooking, so I can’t really hold a grudge on that front. (*plays a card*) That’s The Fool, so we’re reversing direction.

Ford: … It just doesn’t seem like him.

Coop: … that’s been the norm lately, I’m afraid. I don’t think he’s handling the divorce well, with me moving out and I just haven’t been around as much since then.

Ford: Mabel told us in one of her letters you were in family therapy together?

Coop: We’ve had a few sessions, yes. She loved it, got along great with our counselor. I think she asked a few times about becoming a therapist someday! But Dipper doesn’t really participate much during the sessions. He just sulks in the corner, like he doesn’t want to be there at all.

Stan: He’ll get over it. He’s stubborn, but not the type to hold a grudge.

Ford: I can’t imagine any of this is easy for any of you.

Coop: Weirdly enough, me and Annie— uh, Annie and *I*— have gotten on better than ever. Divorce was the best thing to happen to our relationship, it’s like we’re finally friends again?

Stan: Divorce ain’t so bad, I’ve done it at least six times now!

Caryn: I thought about divorcing your father, but he died before I got around to it. Suit change.

Ford: when did Dad pass?

Stan: … ‘97.

Ford: … I see. (*silence*)

Caryn: … Let’s not talk about funerals right now. God knows I’ve been to enough of ‘em. I’m just glad one of ‘em didn’t count. (*pinches Stan’s cheek.*)

Stan: … me too, Ma.

Ford: … Last Man Standing

Stan: Like hell you are, you shit, draw four!

Ford: … that’s not the tower, that’s a Stan Buck!

Caryn: Don’t tell me you’re still making Stan Bucks! You know damn well that’s not how money works!

(This next part is self indulgent and idk if I’ll include it in the fic proper)

Caryn: Now Stanford… let me ask you a question. Why the hell have you been hiding your left hand in your pocket all night?

Ford:…. I don’t know what you mean— HEY!

(Caryn pulls his hand out of his pocket, examines his second ring finger)

Caryn: Stanford Filbrick why does it look like you have a wedding band on your finger?

Ford: …. (*sighs*) because I have a wedding band on my finger.

Caryn: AHA! Here we are moping about death and divorce and you sit on good news like that! Who is she? Who’s your wife? Where’d you meet her, what’s her family like, what does she do?

Ford:… I don’t have a wife. I have a husband.

Stan: The guy used to live in the dump and now he’s a millionaire inventor running for president.

Caryn: You married McGucket?! Me and the girls canvassed for him this year! Wait till I tell that Janine, that’ll get her to pipe down about her Chiropractor Son-In-Law for once!

Coop: I really like his policies on infrastructure, very forward thinking!

Stan: Eh, I’m voting third party. Nothing personal, I just don’t want a brother in law who’s commander in chief. It would make thanksgiving a nightmare.

Ford: You’re a felon, you can’t vote at all.

Stan: That hasn’t stopped me in thirty years!

Ford: So Ma, you’re… fine with—

Caryn: Sweetie, until this morning I thought two of my sons were dead and one cut all ties. I figured I deserved it. Sitting back while your Father gave you all grief for nothin. I told myself if I ever saw you again I’d take you as is, and I meant it.

[slaaverin]

I was thinking with all the discourse on x about Jimins letter, and the cult and solos trying to scramble to debunk his own words, how they are this or that, just bros, they don’t sleep togetherness, don’t see each other before bed yadda yadda.

If it’s common practice in the military to be in group dorms, to shower together, why scramble to say that Jikook don’t do that, they don’t see each other?

Why the scramble to say they aren’t close?

What is it that people are so afraid of?

Because you’re not telling me if it was Yoongi and Jimin who enlisted, or Jimin and Tae, or Jin and Namjoon, or Hobi and Yoongi, etc etc, that people wouldn’t be celebrating it

So why not Jikook? What is it that has them so unhinged that they are literally resorting to calling them both liars, that Jimins letter was written by PR at Hybe, that cooks sleep elsewhere and have different bed times, when Jimin himself said ‘before bed’.

What is it that makes people shout ‘they are brothers!!!!!!’ Over and over and over again.

Because where is the line?

What would tip them over the more than friends category in SK skinship terms, or even say if they were a man and women?

Would it be the hugs? The constant need to touch, to be together? The cheek to cheek selcas? The spending special days together? The tones they use with each other? The teasing, bickering and flirting? The coy looks and smiles? The way they know what the other is thinking? The way they have their inside jokes? The way they are so domestic in the kitchen, JK cooks and JM being Sous Chef. The comfort and companionship they have sought out with the buddy system. The love they exude?

am I missing anything?

I mean I probably am, that’s the quick notes version of their bond. My point being that all of that alone is striking, means their relationship is specific to them and them alone, it stands out, it’s beautiful. It should be celebrated and cooed over, the very least it should be respected.

Is it then that this is what they fear? That they do in fact see all of that, see Jimin writing that he and JK are having (read: deep) conversations about life before bed, and think oh hell no, gotta make up a lie to stop that being true! As if that is how it works.

I don’t know what the futures holds, what the comeback will be like, I just actually hope everything will work out the way each of them want it to. That they are allowed to mature, that they can hold space for each other to grow, to be themselves more than ever. That boundaries are put in place and respected between the members themselves, and the fans. That this will be a new era, as they said in Festa and since; that they won’t hold back things they have wanted to say but couldn’t. It’s a reoccurring theme, JK has said it in lives, Jimin in his last live, now this letter.

I just want them to be loved, and to allow themselves to be love in return. They deserve it.

Anon, I truly feel the same way.

I think solos, antis and tkkers trying to disprove jikook's bond is for many reason. But the simple main one is that they don't want it to be true.

It all comes from desire, they want a different story, because they have this fantasy, because homophobia, and other reasons. They want something else, something that will never be true because it is just that, a story they told themselves because it makes them feel safer and more in control. It's their ego telling them "it should be another way instead!" "This isn't right" (homophobia again), and you know how powerful the ego can be. When someone wants something so bad, some people might go to extremes to get it, no matter the cost.

They believe their little scenario (that they don't like each other, that they are not close) for different reasons and each person think they are totally right about that. Each person thinks their perspective is the best one.

You know that wars have been fought over different perspectives?

Belief is a very powerful thing. Most people cling into some beliefs because it makes them feel more safe, their ego overcompensating over some internal lack.

At least with the scenario they can control the narrative. It is known and comfortable. Because the alternative is unknown, it's wild, it's unpredictable, it's scary. They might lose control, you see? it all comes from fear. Fear of something being different. And jikook ARE different. Their relationship stands out a lot within the group.

And you know what I don't think they actually see the same things as we do when they watch jikook.

Because they made up their mind already, they made up their own story, their ego doesn't care what's actually real! They watch the content through their already skewed lense, and they are so sure they are right. So every single detail will be used to reinforce their belief. To say, "See, I am right! He said this, so they are not close! They can't be"

Ohhh, to what extent the ego would go to be right. You know I don't think they are even aware they are twisting things and making up lies (well of course some of them do) but I think the majority genuinely believe what they see is true. It's true because they absolutely want it to be true. They don't want jikook to be close, to have this special bond, because it doesn't align with their personal selfish desires. "I want JK with Tae!" "I want jikook dating girls and not boys!" "I want my fave to be this way instead!"

I think jikook truly unsettle them to their core. It triggers something inside that they don't want to look at, because it's uncomfortable, so they reject it entirely. They choose something else to believe in, because that makes them feel better. It's less dangerous.

That's why many tkkers are also homophobic, weirdly. They have this ship idea in their heads, but since their ship never happens on camera, they believe it exist somewhat outside of camera, outside of reality. It's a pocket where they can project any types of ideas within the relationship, they can explore their inner fantaisies, let their imagination run wild, and create what they want instead of what is. It escapism, it's dreaming, and it helps them cope with reality that is different.

Because the reality is that jikook have this incredible bond, here, tangible, real, with a incredible depth, and it makes them scared shit. Because that's not something they can control, because it is different, and actually gay. Like for real. Not in a hypothetical "what ifs" scandalous and a little taboo way. No, it's real. But it's so outside of their scope of what's "socially acceptable" that they simply will never accept it. "Because it's BAD" mind you. It's bad and wrong and shouldn't exist. Because they think righteousness is something else entirely. Because they believe their sense of right from wrong is correct.

Of course it's not.

Trying to reason with them is absolutely pointless. It will always be a battle of ego, or different perspectives clashing. These people will not change, it would be too scary to them.

I'm afraid jikook will absolutely never be loved by them the way they deserve. And the hate and the lies and the toxicity is always going to be here. Because you know how much time it takes to actually grow in awareness? To change beliefs? To evolve towards more love? Guys it could take several lifetimes no joke.

I get your sentiment anon, I do.

I think jikookers in general spend too much time fighting with all of them, because it frustrates us so much that jikook are not loved.

But forget it guys, our frustration will only grow if we focus on them too much. They are where they are at, these people. They can't see anything else. I'm not even sure they are able to. Ego and beliefs are so strong, it's very hard for someone to go against it.

They will never see it our way.

Oh, in an ideal world, everyone would love jikook and celebrate them.

But we are in a world where we're thrown with people on different levels of consciousness, and it's just something we have to deal with. It's not comfortable. It can be horrible. But that's just the way it is.

It all comes from fear in the end. Fear of something being different than you, fear of losing control, fear of the unknown.

These guys, beneath layers of piled up beliefs and lies and stories within their psyche, are just scared, that's all. And they might not be aware that they are.

Fear keeps them from seeing things from their heart unfortunately.

And overcoming fear is one of the hardest thing to do in this world.

So, don't be too frustrated with them. It sucks, yes. Of course I wish it would be different. Of course I would want them to *see the light* at some point, but it's not very realistic or easy. None of this situation is easy. People are very complex.

These people will remain here, battling for their ego, burning twitter with their hate, twisting things, making up lies. There's nothing we can do about it, they are here to stay. The only thing we can control is how we react to them. Because I see so many times jkkers also using animal names and insults, battling them with their own ego and hate, and that's just not it. It is so futile. It will never change anything. And we can be better than this. I'm not saying I have a magical solution, I don't. I think it's up to each individual to discern what's right for them in their heart.

In an ideal world, we would all come together in harmony, and praise and celebrate jikook's bond for what is it, something wonderful, magical, beautiful, and see it with our heart and soul, and bask in love and share it between ourselves, and just revel in the magnificence. All of us. How great that would be. It would be a little bit like heaven, right?

Well we're not in heaven anymore, and if we wanted that we would have stayed there and not come here on this earth. Here things will inevitably be flawed, because humans are not and never will be perfect.

But the best we can do is stay within groups of like-minded people, people sharing the same love for love, and create our own little paradise here to enjoy jikook's bond and celebrate it.

It will not be the world's, but it will be ours. Which is already something, I guess?

I went on a long tengent I'm sorry

I can't wait to see what the members will say after military. It's going to be very interesting. Haters are gonna lose their minds (which is funny at this point XD)

Let's each of us love and support jikook, for the people who can't. Let's share their love so it might touch somebody else's heart.

And do our best to be good humans, right?

No matter what happens.

Love you my fellow jikookers 💜

[uncannydevotion]

So I was going through this account and your old account (loved you and your writing since foreverr), and I kind of saw how Liu/Sully are characterized as overprotective (I don’t know if that’s the proper term or if I’m even reading the character right lmao), but like…lowkey what would happen if theres a relationship and they become too suffocating and the s/o tries to break it off? Would they crash out? 😭 (in a possible yandere way?)

squeezing you affectionately i wasnt gonna write today i really wasnt but but but this got sent in and i just. here. here. take this.

warnings: written in one sitting and not proofread, yandere content, unhealthy relationships, dependency, stalking, overprotective behavior, behavior that can be considered obsessive, sully points a gun at you im sorry, implied kidnapping.

wc: 1.4k words.

Liu wasn't a bad guy.

You knew this intimately. Liu was far from a horrible guy. From the moment you met him, he was nothing but kind and understanding. He has his flaws, sure, but so does every other person. And those flaws never took away from how... nice he was.

It was easy falling in love with him, really. He never tried forcing anything on you, he always listened, he remembered everything you told him, even things that most people would consider minor. Honestly, you were shocked to learn that he wasn't already dating someone.

And Sully... well, he's not as nice as Liu.

It took you time to get used to him when he introduced himself to you. Unlike Liu, Sully didn't seem to really... care about people. He was selfish, and was the type to just do things without thinking much about how it could harm others. He never actively tried hurting others, but he never cared if he did either.

So when you found yourself falling in love with Sully as well, it left you feeling a bit... guilty, to be honest. Not only because Sully was... well... Sully, but also because you were already in love with Liu, so isn't it weird being in love with someone else too? But it didn't feel wrong loving them both.

To be honest, when you did start dating them, nothing changed. Liu was as kind as ever, if not a bit more openly affectionate, and Sully was still pretty mean at times, but he was less mean when you were around so... you'll take what you can get.

But it was perfect. You, and your two boyfriends in one body.

When Liu started becoming protective, you hadn't thought much of it. He'd freak out a bit over some small injuries you'd get. Small burns when you'd cook, the occasional time you'd trip over yourself and hit the ground. It was cute, honestly.

You understood that due to his past, he was deeply terrified of losing people. It's a fear of his that you tried your best to help him through, and it wasn't one that you ever thought could get out of hand.

Sure, Sully wouldn't sometimes stare at you for a few moments too long before sighing and saying something like, 'We should just lock you up.' but... he's always had a weird sense of humor, so you never let it get to you.

But... the longer you dated them, the more... suffocating they'd started to become. With Liu, if you were out and didn't update him on your wellbeing every few hours, he'd call you until you answered. He used to not stay the night all that often, but now he insists on staying with you every night, to ensure your safety.

If you went out with friends, he'd basically interrogate you about them. Who are they? Where do they work? How did you meet? Would you trust them to keep you safe? How do you know you can trust them?

And Sully wasn't any better. He would basically stalk you whenever you went out, and he wasn't shy about it either. Whenever you'd try talking to him about it, he'd just shrug and say something along the lines of, 'I'm just making sure you don't die.'

You're fairly certain he's even gone through your phone a few times, but you never brought it up because you didn't want to accuse him, either of them, of something if they didn't do it.

It hurt you to even have this conversation with them, but enough was enough.

"We should break up."

The words sounded wrong, but you refused to swallow them. Your heart was racing and you felt sick but you knew this was for the best. They were far too protective, and Liu seemed unhealthily dependent on you at times. Like he'd simply stop functioning if you disappeared. He needed help, help that you can't give him.

There's an expression of confusion, followed quickly by something akin to anguish when he registers your words. Liu seemed to struggle to speak for a moment, lips opening and closing for a few moments before he finally manages a small, "Why?"

And you explained it to him. You told him about how his protective behavior was starting to feel suffocating, how your friends were starting to distance themselves from you because he (of which you can only assume to be Sully) always glares at them whenever they're around, how your privacy felt nonexistent most days with them around.

It almost seemed as if he was going to accept that this was happening, but then there was a shift. His expression smoothed out for a moment before he looked at you like you were the crazy one here.

"No."

And it didn't take a genius for you to realize you were speaking with Sully now, from the way he seemed completely apathetic to your concerns.

"No? You can't just say no to someone breaking up with you, that's not how this works."

But your words didn't seem to reach him. That, or he was just choosing to ignore him because he just sweetly smiles in such a way that it makes your blood run cold, "I said no, angel." And his usual affectionate name for you sounding mocking rather than loving, something that put you on edge.

In the time that you've known Sully, you've never felt in danger around him. He went out of his way to make you feel comfortable, honestly, but now... now, you're reminded that this man wouldn't hesitate to kill another. What's stopping him from killing you?

"...You should leave. Now, please."

But Sully didn't move. He just stared, and it felt like he was looking right into your very soul, and it made you feel really sick.

"Fine, if you aren't going to leave, then I will," You huff, but you couldn't even stand up before he was pushing you back down on the couch, practically straddling you, and you could feel cool metal pressing against your forehead.

He... he just pulled a fucking gun on you. A mixture of shock and betrayal outweighs any fear you felt as you look up at Sully, half expecting him to just shoot you.

But he'd never do that, no.

Sully would never hurt you. Could never hurt you. He just needs you to behave, that's all.

"Don't look so distraught," He coos, his free hand coming up to lovingly cup your cheek and wipe away tears you hadn't realized were falling, "You know I can't let you leave. Liu needs you," He pauses, a look of consideration before he softly admits, "I need you."

The admission would've been romantic. He'd never really verbally expressed his love for you before, but now it just... it makes you feel wrong.

"We can just consider this a lover's quarrel, yeah? Make up and move on,"

It didn't seem like Sully had any plans on listening to a single word from your mouth unless it's something he wanted to hear, but you shake your head nonetheless, "I don't want to 'make up and move on'. You're aiming a fucking gun at me for crying out loud! How can I possibly move on from that?!"

And he rolls his eyes at your words, as if you were being dramatic over something you had every right to be angry about. It almost seemed as if he wanted to say something, but his gaze unfocused, and when he blinked, that annoyance was gone.

Instead, he looked mortified, lowering the gun against your head.

And for a moment, you felt a flicker of hope. If you can't convince Sully to let you leave, then surely you can convince Liu, right?

But he didn't pull the gun away. He wasn't aiming it at you, but it was there, and that told you everything you needed to know. Liu wasn't going to let you leave either.

"I'm sorry," He whispers over and over again, and there's tears in his eyes as he rests his forehead against your shoulder. As if forcing you to stay with him was painful to him.

And maybe it was, but...

This world is simply far too dangerous. How is he supposed to keep you safe when you want to go out all the time? It's... it's for the best, he thinks, to take you away. Somewhere where no one can find you, that way you'll be safe. The thought makes Liu sick, guilt eating at him, but... nothing can take you from him.

He and Sully will keep you safe, always. Even if you hate them for it.