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theonottsbxtch · 2 months ago

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it's ok im ok | LN4

an: it's ok im ok by tate mcrae is out and i had this idea the minute i heard it the first time so i've been writing this the last two hours. this was very rushed so please be nice, slight oscar x yn (no use of yn)

written and smau

face claim: pintrest and queen t8

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oh he's so perfect

**coments have been restricted**

When she’d first broken up with Lando, she’d been distraught. He was the love of her life, or at least she’d thought. For over a month, she’d spent every passing moment reminiscing on all the good parts she could remember of the relationship, but as that month came to a close, the fog began to lift.

There was no good.

At first there was, there had been the dates, the gifts, the flowers and the continuous travelling alongside her. The texts of ‘I miss you’ and ‘I love you’ at least once a day had diminished into a ‘gn’ and ‘gm’ eleven months into the relationship.

The affection that once felt so constant had turned into something routine, something obligatory. She’d ignored the signs at first, brushing off the growing distance as just a phase, believing things would eventually go back to how they were in the beginning. But they didn’t.

She remembered the nights when he would cancel plans at the last minute, claiming he was too tired from work, yet his social media was filled with stories of nights out with his friends. The times he’d forgotten important moments — her promotion at work, her 21st birthday, their anniversary. Every time, he had a perfectly reasonable excuse that she had willingly swallowed, desperate to hold onto the image of the man she’d thought he was.

The excuses, the half-hearted apologies, and the lack of effort slowly chipped away at her, until one day, she woke up feeling emptier than ever, wondering where she’d gone wrong. She’d blamed herself, convinced she was being too demanding, too needy.

But now, with some distance, she could see it all for what it was: she’d been in love with an idea of him, a projection of her own desires. The real Lando was far from the prince charming she had made him out to be. He was just a guy who knew how to charm his way through life, good at saying the right things but never following through.

She realised now that the man she’d loved never truly existed; he was a mirage, built from wishful thinking and her own desperation to be loved.

So when Mclaren invited her to celebrate the new season, she took it knowing she was a mature adult, after all he’d moved on. So could she.

“She’s posted him again,” Her best friend spoke from the sofa where she’d been waiting for her to touch up her makeup. “Caption is ‘Oh he’s so perfect’ with some flowers and a teddy bear.”

“Poor girl.” She muttered to herself as she applied some gloss. “She’s still in the honeymoon phase,”

Her best friend hummed and laughed as she continued to scroll through the photos.

Unlike many ex girlfriends, she didn't hate the new girl, no if anything she pitied the next girl and the inevitable one after that, it wasn’t their fault that he acted like the perfect gentleman at the start.

She sighed, putting the lip gloss down and meeting her own eyes in the mirror. "I mean, she’s just like I was," she added, more to herself than to her friend. "I remember thinking he was my perfect match, too. All those little gestures, the compliments, the way he always seemed to know exactly what I wanted to hear. I fell for it, hard."

Her friend glanced up from the phone, a knowing look in her eyes. "Yeah, but you saw through it eventually. And you got out."

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, I did. And I’m not gonna pretend that was easy, but I did it. I’ve just gotta hope she figures it out sooner rather than later."

Her friend grinned. "I bet you’re dying to go up to her tonight and give her a friendly warning."

She laughed at that, shaking her head. "Oh, no. I’m not getting involved unless the opportunity comes up . She won’t listen anyway; no one does when they’re in the thick of it. Besides, it's not my place."

Her friend tilted her head, watching her closely. "You’re really okay with all this?"

She paused for a moment, considering her answer. Was she really okay? Seeing those photos had stirred something in her, but it wasn’t jealousy. It was more like a dull ache, a memory of a wound that had already healed. "I think so," she said finally, smiling a little. "I mean, it still sucks to see, but not in the way it used to. I guess... I’m more relieved than anything. Relieved that it’s not me anymore."

Her friend nodded in approval. "That’s growth, babe. And tonight, we’re gonna celebrate that growth with some champagne and dancing. No thinking about exes, just fun."

She laughed, grabbing her bag and turning to face her friend. "Deal. Now, let’s get out of here before I change my mind."

They headed out the door, a cool breeze greeting them as they stepped into the evening air. As they walked to the car, she glanced at her phone one more time, catching a glimpse of Lando’s face on her social media feed. His arm was around the new girl, that same easy smile on his lips, the same charm in his eyes. But this time, it didn’t sting. It didn’t make her chest tight or her stomach drop. She felt...nothing.

“His teammate was fitter anyway,” At first she hadn’t heard it but when she did, she turned to face her friend, “What? I’m saying what we all saw.”

“I’m not stirring that pot.”

“You’re not but I am.” Her friend laughed as she pulled out of the parking lot, “Think about it, he’ll be there tonight, freshly broken up. Maybe you two can bond over that.”

Her eyes widened as she looked at her friend, “He broke up with his girlfriend?”

“I knew you were interested!”

She rolled her eyes, feeling a flush creep up her neck. "I’m not interested," she insisted, but the hint of a smile played at the corners of her lips, betraying her. "It’s just… surprising, that’s all."

Her friend shot her a knowing look. “Oh, come on. I’ve seen how you look at him. All those race weekends, sneaking glances when you thought no one was watching. You can’t deny it.”

She laughed, a light, genuine sound she hadn’t heard from herself in a while. "You’re imagining things. Besides, just because Lando's teammate is single doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump into something new."

Her friend raised an eyebrow. “Who said anything about jumping? Maybe just dip a toe in. Have fun for once. You deserve it."

She hesitated, biting her lip as the car sped through the city streets. "I don’t know… it just feels too soon."

"Too soon? Or maybe the perfect time?" her friend challenged. "It’s not about replacing Lando. It’s about letting yourself feel good again."

She stared out the window, watching the city lights blur into a kaleidoscope of colours. Her friend was right. She had spent so long grieving over Lando, replaying every mistake and wondering where she went wrong. Maybe it was time to let someone else in, even just a little.

“Okay," she finally said, her voice steady. "If I see him tonight, I’ll talk to him. No expectations, no pressure. Just… a conversation."

Her friend grinned. “Now, that’s the spirit. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find out he’s more than just a pretty face.”

She laughed again, this time with more ease. “Or maybe I’ll find out he’s just another disaster waiting to happen.”

Her friend chuckled, “Only one way to find out.”

By the time they’d pulled up to the club and handed the keys to the valet, there was a solid blush on her cheeks. After all, she had spent the rest of the car ride looking at Oscar’ photos.

She felt the bass of the music underneath her feet as she and her friend handed their ID’s to the bouncer, waiting as he checked their names off the list.

“Right let me find some virgin cocktail, you go find Oscar.”

“Absolutely not, I’m getting a drink first.”

When they reached the bar, they eyed up the drinks board, everything seemed so tempting. Starting easy she ordered herself a vodka coke. No point trying to talk to Oscar if she was sloshed.

“Your replacement, 12 o’clock.” She heard her friend shout over her drink.

She turned around, subtly glancing in the direction her friend had pointed. There she was, the new girl — bright-eyed, smiling, and looking like she had the world at her feet. Her heart clenched for a moment, a tiny pang of something she didn’t want to name, but then she felt it ease just as quickly. It wasn’t jealousy; it was almost… nostalgia.

The girl was everything she remembered herself being — full of hope, dressed to impress, standing a little too close to him as if she needed to mark her territory. And there he was, Oscar, just as charming as ever. Leaning in, whispering something that made the girl laugh loudly, the kind of laugh that begged for attention.

Her friend nudged her side. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, swallowing a sip of her drink. “Just feeling pity, really.”

“Well,” her friend prompted, “you gonna say hi or what?”

She took a deep breath. “I think I’ll let them have their moment. Besides, I’m not in the mood to play the ex-girlfriend card tonight.”

Her friend snorted. “What, you don’t want to ruin their Instagram-perfect night?”

She grinned. “Tempting, but no.” She took another sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol begin to relax her nerves. “Let’s dance, yeah?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

Grabbing her phone off the bar and shoving it down her bra, she took her friend’s hand and brought her to the middle of the dance floor, some Flo Rida song making the walls shake.

Moving to the beat of the music, she looked as her friend began to dance on her, pulling her hand on her hip as they danced in sync enjoying the moment and ignoring the fact that she could see Lando looking at her and not his new girlfriend.

She felt the bass thump through her chest, each beat syncing with her pulse as she lost herself in the music. Her friend’s laughter was infectious, and she couldn’t help but grin, the tension in her shoulders easing as she swayed to the rhythm.

Lando’s gaze was heavy on her, almost burning through the crowd. She could feel it, a mix of curiosity and maybe a hint of regret. She didn’t look directly at him — not yet. Instead, she let her movements become more carefree, twirling with her friend and raising her arms in the air as the chorus hit. The whole room seemed to pulse with the beat, and she revelled in the feeling of letting go, if only for a moment.

Her friend leaned in, her voice barely audible over the music. “He’s staring,” she said with a sly smile.

She shrugged, flipping her hair back with a casual flick. “Let him,” she replied, her voice loud enough to be heard over the music but still cool and collected.

And then, on a whim, she spun around, facing him across the crowded room. Their eyes met, and she held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than she intended. His expression was unreadable — a mix of surprise, maybe a flicker of something else. But she didn’t want to decipher it; she didn’t care to.

Instead, she raised her drink in a mock toast, a sly smile playing at her lips, before turning her back to him again. She felt a surge of confidence, a quiet thrill in knowing she no longer needed his validation or attention. She was here to have fun, to enjoy the night, not to relive old memories or make a scene.

Her friend noticed the exchange and leaned in again. “You sure you don’t want to give him a piece of your mind?”

She laughed, a real, genuine laugh that felt good in her chest. “Nah, he can watch if he wants. It just shows he’s not as over it as I am.”

She turned her attention back to her friend, giving her a playful spin. “Anyway, I have a much hotter date.”

This time her friend laughed loudly, “Uh huh you do, I’ll go get us refills.”

“I’ll come with,” she offered, even though she was beginning to feel herself in the middle of the crowd.

“No, you just stay here.” Her friend gave her a final wink before disappearing into the crowd, leaving her alone on the dancefloor. The bass of the music pulsed through her, making her heart race in time with the beat. That’s when she spotted Oscar — tall, confident, with a warm smile that seemed to cut through the throng of people. He was one of the few people who had been genuinely kind to her since she’d met him, and there was a sense of magnetic energy between them.

He extended his hand with a charming grin. “May I have this dance?”

Without missing a beat, she placed her hand in his, feeling a thrill of excitement. They moved closer, the heat of their bodies melding together as the music swelled. He guided her into a slow, sensual dance, their movements smooth and synchronised. His hands rested lightly on her hips, and she could feel the tension of his touch, a mix of confidence and tenderness. Overlapping her hands on his, she tightened his grip on her hips.

As they danced, she felt a rush of freedom, the worries and old feelings from earlier dissolving into the rhythm. She glanced to her side and caught a glimpse of Lando across the room. He was watching them, his expression a mixture of surprise and frustration. For a moment, their eyes locked, and she saw the flash of jealousy in his gaze. She raised an eyebrow slightly, a smirk playing on her lips as if to say, “Look at me now.”

Returning her focus to the Oscar, she let herself be completely immersed in the moment. His touch was intoxicating, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that made her feel desired and cherished. They moved together effortlessly, each step and sway adding to the intimate connection they were building on the dancefloor.

Oscar leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “You look amazing tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “I mean you always have, but tonight things are different aren’t they?”

She shivered at his words, the tension between them palpable. She responded with a soft laugh, her fingers trailing up to his neck as she whispered back, “They are, aren’t they?”

As the song reached its climax, they pulled closer, their bodies pressed together in a way that felt both exhilarating and soothing. She let herself be lost in the sensation, feeling a newfound sense of liberation and sensuality. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own private dance.

The song ended, but they stayed close, their breaths mingling. “I’m going to the bathroom, but I’ll see you here for round two?” she said, trying to be heard over the music.

“I won’t go anywhere,” he replied with a teasing smile, his voice like velvet. She wanted to linger in his warmth a moment longer, but she knew she needed to regroup. The minute she snapped out of her trance, she found the bar and her friend, dragging her to the nearest bathroom.

Finding the handicap stall, she pulled them inside and slumped against the wall, grabbing her drink out of her friend’s hand.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, her voice a mix of exhilaration and happiness.

“I am not Oscar, but I’m sure he would if you asked nicely,” her friend quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

She let out a tired laugh, shaking her head. “Not what I meant. I just… I don’t know. It’s weird being back in this place. Wow. That dance - I.”

Her friend gave her a knowing look. “At least give me a heads up if I’m going to drive home alone tonight.”

As she took another sip of her drink, she heard the bathroom door swing open, followed by the sound of animated giggling. It was Lando's new girlfriend, chattering excitedly with a friend. Her voice carried through the thin bathroom walls, brimming with admiration.

“Oh my god, he’s just so perfect!” she gushed. “I can’t believe how lucky I am. He’s got everything—charm, looks, and he’s so sweet. I feel like I’m in a dream.”

Her friend raised an eyebrow, glancing at her. “Are you okay?”

Suppressing a laugh, she stood up and pushed open the door to the cubicle. As she emerged, she locked eyes with Lando’s new girlfriend in the mirror.

“Hey there,” she said, her voice smooth yet edged with cool detachment. “So, which version of him is perfect, the off-season version or the regular season?”

The new girlfriend blinked, visibly startled. Her smile faltered, and she looked momentarily confused. “Uh, I don’t really understand what you mean.”

She could sense her best friend trying hard not to laugh behind her. Shrugging lightly, she maintained a mix of sympathy and detachment in her gaze. “Just a thought. Sometimes people have different sides to them, you know? What you’re seeing now might not be the whole picture.”

Before the new girlfriend could respond, her friend besides her chimed in . “You’re just jealous.”

She turned, a knowing smile on her lips. “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I’m perfectly fine. After all, I had him first.” Without giving the new girlfriend a chance to reply, she gently but firmly guided her friend out of the bathroom and back into the club.

As they re-entered the lively atmosphere, her friend grinned at her. “That was hot.”

She chuckled, feeling a sense of empowerment and closure. “Glad you think so. Let’s enjoy the rest of the night.”

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it's ok im ok

**comments have been restricted**

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #lando norris #mclaren #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #lando #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #oscar piastri imagine #mclaren formula 1 #formula one smau #romance #oscar piastri f1

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deanswhiskey · 27 days ago

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𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 - 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

summary; sam asks you to cut his hair

wc; 1,193

warnings; just kissing, this is beta so apologize for spelling mistakes

authors note; hiiii ☺️ i’ve been in such a writers block but i think it’s over (don’t hold me to that) so im gonna try to write more. this fic is heavily inspired by that one scene in friends where kathy cuts chandlers hair if you couldn’t tell

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

“can you cut my hair?”

the words slipped out of sam’s mouth. he only half meant it. he couldn’t ask you to do that for him; not when he could go to a barber for a few bucks.

sam loved him long hair, he did, but there were times that it got so frustrating. the brushing, the knots, the maintenance, and not to mention sam winchester had to worst bed head. although, you thought it was adorable.

you and sam were nothing more than best friends. you have been for a while. sure there was longing glances, accidental brushing of hands, the rare occasions where there wasn’t enough rooms in the motel so you’d have to share a bed. but you were just friends. that’s all it will and ever be.

dean hated it, too much tension for him. it made him angry. he just wished you two would grow a pair and do something about it.

the question had slightly taken you aback. you hadn’t really ever cut hair before. sure you had cut your dolls hair, a couple botched hair cuts in your awkward phases, but nothing in a professional sort of way.

“of course, sam.”

a small smile appeared on sams face, “cool.”

you’ve never really paid attention to the length that hard until right now. “it does look like it’s getting a little long, doesn’t it.”

sam chuckled to himself, “yeah, getting hard to manage. i don’t know how you girls do this everyday.”

you giggled at his words, “don’t get me started.”

it was evening now and you began setting up for sam’s haircut. you smiled to yourself getting the bathroom ready for him. a chair from the small table in the motel room was brought in along with a sharp pair of scissors and the top sheet from your motel bed.

yours and the brothers room was conjoined so thankfully you didn’t have to walk outside to get to their room. the door has been propped open and you walked over to get sam.

sam looked up at you from his computer with big doe eyes, the big doe eyes you love. he smiled, closing his computer, and getting up from the table and following you to your side of the joined rooms.

a chuckle escaped his lips as he walked into your bathroom, admiring the little set up you had going on. “wow, you’re really going all out, aren’t ya?”

“well, i wanted to give you a decent experience for what i can and what i have.” you gestured to the chair, “now, if you’d like to take a seat sir, then we can get started.” a posh accent came out with that sentence.

sam matched your accent, “don’t mind if i do.”

you grabbed the thin sheer from the floor and draped it around sam, the same way a barber would, securing it with a hair tie from wrist.

“how short do you want it?” you asked while brushing his hair out.

you started to run your fingers through his hair and getting a feel for all of it. all of sams thoughts had slipped out of his head. he was distracted, and rightfully so. sam practically has to bite back a moan it felt so good.

“i- um, i was thinking, mm-maybe like how it was a few years ago?” he stuttered out.

“mm, okay.” you removed you finger from his hair and grabbed the scissors. “hold tight,” you jokingly said.

sam just closed his eyes, trying to relax his mind from his thoughts. his shoulder slumped and his jaw unclenched as you carefully snipped away a little length from his hair.

the small clumps of hair fell down and tickled sams neck as they fell down. the sound of the scissors and the small sound of you humming filled the air of the dingy motel bathroom.

minutes passed silently before you spoke up, “okay, i think i’m almost done.”

you swiveled around to stand in front of him, cutting the hairs that framed his face. your were dangerously close to him, sam’s eyes adverted looking at anything else in this bathroom.

“and, done.” you dragged out with the finished touches.

the scissors now sat on the counter as you moved to stand behind him again. your eyes looked at him through the mirror, you were proud at your work. a smile crept onto your face.

“wow, it looks amazing,” sam boasted.

“thank you,” you gleamed, moving to stan’s in front of him.

you bent down in front of him, slightly leaning against the counter behind you.

“w-what are you doing?” sam questioned, adverting his gaze once more while you tugged gently at the hair on the side of his head. his voice barely above a whisper.

“i’m just seeing if it’s even up close.” you said in the same tone, just above a whisper.

“oh.” the only response sam could mutter out.

your eyes dart between to strands you’re holding on either side of his head. you slowly stopped looking at his hair and settled into his eyes.

the room became thick and your breathing became heavy. sams eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment.

“it, uh-” you were cut off my sam smashing his lips against yours. it was something you didn’t except yet you’ve dreamed of this moment before.

your lips mold together so perfectly. sam tasted of mint, from the gum he was chewing earlier. the knot from the sheet around his neck comes undone by your doing as you both stand up.

sam gently pushed you up against the counter, you were practically sitting on it.

you had gotten lost in the feel of sam. his hands roaming every inch he could get to while your hands would switch between moving up and down his torso and tangled in his hair.

the two of you were so lost you didn’t hear dean enter your side of the rooms. “hey, how’s it going in h-” his words stopped once he saw the two of you making out.

pulling away from each other, you looked at dean, who was chuckling to himself as he walked away “finally, finally, finally,” was all you two heard as he his footsteps drew further.

sam looked back to you to discover you had already turned back to face him, a smile worked its way to your face, followed by a small chuckle.

sam rests his forehead agaisnt yours, “i’ve been waiting to do that for so long.”

“yeah, me too.”

you reach up to kiss sam again, this time in a slower kiss. sam is the first to pull away, he smiles at you doing so.

he glances up in the mirror, “i really do like this haircut, thanks a lot.” you’re more than proud of yourself and how much sam loved it, it all made you smile big.

sam kisses you on the cheek, “c’mon, let’s go lay down.” he took your hand and led you to your bed.

and that’s what the two of you did; for the whole night you held each other close, something you’ve both been longing for.

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

#spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winche

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simphornies · 9 months ago

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Artistic desire [Husk x Shy!Reader] Fluff

A/N: This was a request sent by a lovely follower. I'm not particularly good at writing shy characters but I did my best. Hopefully this suits your taste.

Word count: 3.4k (3,481)

Warnings: none unless you count mentions of mommy and daddy issues

You were a bit of a social recluse. Your parents fucked off and died somewhere in one of the seven rings when you were a teenager and since everything is basically free, besides drugs and sex, you just stayed in your parents’ manor. The only person that really checked up on you everyday was Charlie. You crossed paths when you were younger, rode through the emo phase together and now you’re both older.

Before her hotel opened up, she was eager to tell you of all the plans. Every. Single. Plan. Of course, you didn’t mind the chatter through the phone. You enjoyed something that filled up the empty halls in your home. You helped her redesign a bit but after a while, you were in a pit of…the opposite of an art block?

You spent every waking moment, painting and creating art. If you thanked your demon parents for anything, it’d be the part where their powers passed onto you naturally. Your mother was a beautiful muse, perfection in keeping everything aesthetically pleasing. Your father painted his muse at every given moment. You didn’t necessarily hate them per-say but you sure as hell didn’t love them. The moment you kept something out of place, an inch off the center, your mother scrambled to fix it.

She didn’t yell or bother with correcting you, she would just obsess with the finer details. Your father never stepped up for anything other than painting. Hell forbid you switch up his paints and he’d be locked in his room all day. Finishing piece after piece.

You didn’t take after any of their obsessive traits. Instead you embraced the messy lines, the off-centered pieces. You embraced the imperfection and impurities that came with hell itself.

And that is exactly how you ended up in Charlie’s Hazbin Hotel. She convinced you to take your artistic abilities to brighten the place up. With the surprising help of Alastor, you chose compromise on the color palette. The fabrics, the decor, the lights, the curtains, the rugs. It was all your choosing. And when Alastor decided to phase in a bar with Husk included, the odd placement of green itched your brain in a good way.

The bar wasn’t the only thing that got you going. A surge of inspiration waved through your entire being the moment you saw him. The moment you heard his voice you wanted to capture it in art. There wasn’t a passing day where you didn’t sit at his bar, eagerly waiting for his next story.

At first, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you considering how well you got along with Alastor. But that opinion quickly faded the more you hung around him. Every time he’d tell a story, he noticed you always doodling in delight, listening to every detail. You didn’t participate in conversations much but he could tell you were listening to the whole thing. Your legitimate interest in his stories warmed his heart a little bit more than he’d ever admit. He soon realized that you two were probably the most sane demons in the entirety of the hotel.

“The usual?” He asks. You nod and continue to fill your sketchbook with drawings, the act visible to him by the way your eyes shine. He poured three glasses for you both. One glass of whiskey for him, a glass of champagne for you, and one of your old paint cups with water. He handed you your drink in a champagne glass and your cup next to your sketchbook. Last time he handed that to you, you accidentally drank the paint water.

You quietly thank him as you gleefully kick your feet in the empty space under you. The chairs hoisted you up enough for you to not touch the floor when you sat, something he found admirable. He hummed as he cleans a couple of glasses left over from when Angel was drinking.

Oh how he wished to take a peek at your drawings. He would never try to ask, he learned from one of your small conversations together that you said it’s like a diary. And he’d be damned if he pried into that. The only time he’ll ever get any information from people is when they’re absolutely fucked up wasted. He watched as your face was unbelievably close to the book, the sound of your pencil against the paper was soothing to him. Oddly enough, it was never complete without it.

“Hey, Y/N? Could you do me a big big big favor? Pretty please?” Charlie speaks up, breaking the silence between you two. He sighs and starts to stock up his shelves knowing that you were probably going to get hoisted away now. He feels the weird shift in his chest that made him realize he was actually in love with you this whole time.

“Yes, Charlie?” You looked up at her as you put your pencil down. “What can I do to help?” Your voice was smooth jazz to his ears. He wanted to hear you speak more. And he hated when other demons talked to him. But your voice. He’d fight in a war with the exorcists to hear you speak to him more. He secretly wished you said his name instead.

She gives you a guilty grin, “So, I was trying to make a sign for Sir Pentious and well…”

“It looks a little bit like vomit!” Nifty chimed in, unashamed.

Charlie laughed nervously, “I may have chosen the wrong green…Would you mind, helping me out?”

You smile, “Of course.” You get up, following Charlie and Vaggie to the opposite side of the lobby to give aid in their color struggles.

Nifty continued her cleaning and while she did, she realized that you had left your sketchbook wide open. Of course, as it is in Nifty’s nature, she snatches the book off of the bar’s countertop, just out of Husk’s view and takes a look at the page it was open to. She gasps and runs over to Angel and Alastor, eager to show her finds.

“My my. What a wonderful find you’ve got there, Nifty.” Alastor grins. He was not much of a lover but he sure as hell enjoyed seeing his little pet get flustered. And perhaps he’s been more tolerant lately so he figured he can have a bit of happiness in this hotel.

“Oh. My. Fuck.” Angel stares at the sketches you have of Husk. The two pages were filled with him and just him. Him cleaning the glasses, him fixing his hate, him with his wings out. Some were obvious direct sketches from his day-to-day life but the others were all from your mind. There was one of him in a fancy suit. One with his hair slicked back the way he briefly mentioned it during his stories of being an overlord. Angel stares at the page a bit longer before looking over at Alastor who shared his mischievous grin.

While you were painting the sign with Vaggie, Charlie is pulled to the side by Alastor. “Charlie, my dear. You would say that you are a lover girl at heart, would you not?” He asks.

“Uhm. Yes. Yes I am, Alastor.” She answers with confusion in her voice, “Why?”

“Why, Nifty had some groundbreaking finds just a moment ago that I believe I should be sharing with you.” He smiles widely as Angel hands her the open sketchbook.

“Somebody,” he whispers, “Got a little thing for Whiskers~”

Charlie takes one long look at the page and was about to start squealing in delight until Alastor puts a finger up to her lips. “Ah ah, my dear. Now’s not the time for that. Wouldn’t it be best that you talk about this with her in private.” He suggested.

“You’re right! Ohhhh my gosh! This is amazing!” She grins, “I’ve known her in all my years here in hell and I have not seen her take a liking to anybody. I’ll definitely talk about it with her!”

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

The sign for Sir Pentious was up in congratulations for his arrival and his development. Everyone was cheering him on by the bar. You scout around for your sketchbook, swearing you left it by Husk. He wouldn’t be the type of guy to take personal things like that.

Just as you were about to ask him where it was, Charlie quickly drags you into a spare room, filled with excitement. Excitement that drove you a bit nervous.

“Charlie? Is there anything you need me to do here?” You ask, scanning the empty room around you.

She simply could not contain her excitement. “It’s come to my attention that you, my lovely lovely friend, may have a teeny tiny crush on someone.”

Oh fuck.

“Haaaa. What?” You ask, trying to contain your composure. “I don’t like anybody. That’s funny. Hah hahhh…” You nervously laughed.

Just then, Charlie hands you your sketchbook. “Nifty found it and well…you left it open to your most recent sketches…of Husk!” She squeals.

Your face turns a bright red as you swiped the sketchbook out of her hands. “Charlie! Oh fuck, please don’t tell me you told him.” You were every shade of red possible in hell out of sheer embarrassment.

“Of course not! I wouldn’t take that adorable opportunity away from you and him!” She hugs her shorter friend, “So. Tell me all about it! When did it start? When did you know?” She gasps in excitement as she thought of more questions to bombard you with, “Why? How did you find out? What do you like most about him?”

“W-well I…” You stutter, hugging your sketchbook close, “I’m not sure when but I just know that, these last couple of weeks he’s been…um…you know. Kind of inspiration? My…muse. If you will.”

Charlie loved your answers and continued to ask more questions. “So when are you going to tell him?” She gasps, “Oh my gosh—You guys should totally go on a date!”

“A DATE?” You choke, “Fucking hell—Charlie. I cannot bring myself to do that. You’re the only person I can talk to without stuttering too much and you want me to go on a date with the very demon I like?”

The answer was yes and before you know it, you and Husk are getting pushed out of the hotel with a pile of cash in both of your guys’ hands, courtesy of Charlie. She somehow got you both into matching outfits. A dress with hearts on the collar with a white and red pearly necklace to match. Husk was somehow, probably by Alastor, shoved into his overlord suit and tie.

“You motherfuckers better not fuck up my bar! I worked all day to keep shit organized!” He yelled at the closed door, “I’m talking about you, Angel Dust!” He scoffed and fixed his sleeves.

You couldn’t bear to look dead at him. You safely got peeks from your peripheral. On one of your attempts, the two of you made eye contact for a brief second. You immediately looked away, muttering an apology under your breath.

“Are you gonna stand there staring at nothing or are we going?” He elbowed you gently.

“Oh! U-Uh. I’m not quite sure…where we have to go.” You admitted.

He rolls his eyes, “Thrown into battle blind, huh?” He chuckled before moving in front of you, “Take my hand. Can’t have other demons fucking with our artist.”

You look at him, memorizing the way his grin sat on his face. A light blush forms across your cheeks as you take his hand. He walks with you down the city and into the nearest fancy club in your area.

“Ah. I think this is gonna be a little…”

“You scared?” He grins, “You’ll be fine. You’re with me. I’ll fuck shit up if I need to.” He flashed you his playing cards, edges as sharp as can be.

You sigh and nod, walking in with him. He sat you down at a quieter side, as quiet as a famous club can be. You both share a bottle of whiskey, your sudden interest shocking him.

“You know, that art thing you do is mesmerizing.” Why did he have to bring that up now? You internally groaned. “It’s like magic whenever you put whatever’s in that brain on paper.” He stirs his drink with a claw, looking at you. You swear you see a bit of sparkle in his usual dull eyes.

“Th-thanks, Husk.” You stutter. The way his name came out of you warmed him up more than his drink. He wanted you to say it again so badly. "I’ve seen you do magic too y’know.” As much as he paid attention to your work, so did you. You have endless sketches of him playing with cards, fucking around with Angel’s hand with a smooth move so quick one could barely catch it without attentive eyes.

“Ohhh,” He leans in a bit, a teasing grin plastered on his face, “So you watch me that close, huh?”

You choke on your drink, spitting a bit out, “Wh-what! No.”

He chuckles a bit, leaning back, “Cut the act, Y/N.” He closed his eyes, putting his glass up to his lips, “Alastor told me already. And Nifty. And Angel. And Charlie, you know she can’t keep a secret well.”

You were a mess. They told him and they didn’t tell you that they told him? You’re definitely messing with their rooms later. But how much did they tell him? You can’t pinpoint it. “I-” You coughed, trying to clear up your throat from your near death experience via literal drowning in alcohol. “I can’t help that you’re just…nice to draw.”

You turn away, a bit ashamed and definitely flustered. He was quiet, watching you intently as he sipped on his drink. “I like drawing anything I like.”

Now it was his turn to choke a bit but you didn’t catch it. He wiped his mouth, “So you like me then, right?”

You turn to face him not expecting his face to be so close to yours. A little shift and you two would fall into a kiss. You weren’t able to read his face well. He had a blank expression. You stare at him, face red.

“It’s okay, fucker. You know how it is,” He elbows you, laughing a bit before grabbing your hand to drag you out of the club. “I’m the bartender that knows everything about everybody.”

He rarely used his wings, unwilling to accept his demon form. But tonight, he stretched his wings out. “What’re you-”

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” He looks at you over his shoulder, holding your hand a little tighter. You nod in response.

Without a second thought, he pulled you close to him, hugging you to his chest. You blinked and you were off the ground, soaring through the air. He held you close, careful to not let you fall.

“I want you to see something. Something I doubt anyone’s ever shown you.” He keeps his head up, unaware of how starstruck you’re looking at him. You were also too scared to look anywhere else.

He flies as high as he can, stopping at a certain point before holding you in his arms in a bridal style way. “Look around, Y/N. Take it all in.” He speaks softly. You look around and from where you guys are, you can see the entire Pentagram City. Your eyes are filled with a breathtaking view of the city you grew up in. He smiles at the sight of your interest, “As much as I fucking hate this place. It’s not bad when you can’t hear the chaos going on down there from up here.”

“It’s beautiful. I…I have to paint this.” You state, wishing you had your book with you. You rest your head on his chest. After a while you feel him fly towards a high point at the edge of the city, landing on a mountain. He doesn’t let you down as soon he lands though, he didn’t want to ruin your adoring looks at the view.

Your face is lit up with admiration, you feel at peace. It was quiet but a soothing kind of quiet. Your ears caught onto a different sound while you rested on his chest. Is he purring?

You look up at him, “Thanks for the ride, Husk.” Smiling warmly, you cupped his face in your hand. You swear you felt him lean into it. He puts you down gently before putting his hand over yours, returning your warm smile. “Can I ask you a question?”

He purrs softly, the vibrations reverberating on your hand. He nods. “Is it okay I…pet you a bit. You’re just so fluffy.” He went from looking at you with his eyes half shut to wide open, in disbelief. “I-It’s for my art! My drawings.” You laugh nervously, “You know…reference…” It was half a lie, which he is aware of, you actually do want to capture his soft looking fur in your drawings but wanted to know exactly how dense or fluffy it is.

He laughs, closing his eyes as he sat on the ground with you following after him, “You’re lucky I like you, Y/N. Go for it.”

He hated when people treated him like a cat but for you, he’d make an exception. He’d make multiple exceptions for you. You begin to stroke the top of his head, making sure you remember how it feels in your palms in case you never get the chance to do this again. His purring grew louder as he leaned into your touch.

You began to pet his cheeks, getting a closer look at his face, taking in every detail. From his heart shaped nose, to the way his eyebrows fluffed out of his face. He slowly opened his eyes, peeking at you. You were too mesmerized by how unbearably handsome he is to see him inching closer.

He grabs your hand on his cheek, “I could kiss you right now.” He could what? Before you got a chance to react he pulled you into him, his lips crashing on yours. You yelp before giving in and melting into him. The kiss didn’t last too long but it felt like hours.

You stared at him as longingly as you did dumbfounded. “Look, babe, I notice everything about you. Everything you do.” He holds your head in his hands. “I see the way you light up when Charlie brings you paintings. How you paint with that focused look. You’re one of, if not, the only demon with sense in that hotel and respect my boundaries. You’ve never pushed my buttons once. And I truly, truly appreciate it.”

You lean into his hold, holding his face in return, “I understand you a lot more than you think, Husk. I know it’s silly but I find comfort in you. I love the way your voice sounds. I love watching your magic tricks. I love the way you effortlessly make a drink without even looking. And I love the way you fight. You fill me with so much artistic desire and you get me out of the toughest art blocks out there.”

“And you help me stay calm when everybody gets on my nerves. I’ll take a fight on for you any day, babe.” He rests his forehead on yours, “Who would’ve thought my cold little heart could be warmed up in hell of all places, huh?”

He shifts and rests his head on your lap as you continue to pet him, humming softly as you did.

"And who would've thought I'd be able to get the grumpy bartender to purr in my lap?"

You two enjoyed the rest of your night together. He actually stole a bottle for you two and you both drank the night away.

“You think Y/N’s ruffling his feathers? If you know what I mean.” Angel laughs followed by a quick slap on the back by Vaggie. “Ow! It was just a joke. God, tits.”

“Oh I believe Husk is having a wonderful night.” Alastor grins, aware of what the soul he owns has done, “And might I say, he is quite the charmer. Truly a hidden gem. Under all that gruff he is but a little kitten.” He hummed, teleporting away into his tower.

Charlie was so excited and had set up a congratulations sign on the wall for when you two return. She was happy her dear friend finally found comfort in somebody.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #did i mention this was fluffy #fluffy

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twost3ps · 6 months ago

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Since ya doing au and made Emily Michael and Adam's daughter what about an au where Charlie is Lucifer and Adam's daughter just curious how that would come out of your artistic mind. Love ur art is PEAK bro

AWWW thank you so much!!!! AUSGEHYSGEUSGSUWBSBS

But totes I’ve had thought of this b4. Thank you for giving this prompt so I had an excuse to draw and write it out!!!

An au where Adam and Lucifer are Charlie’s dad… umm well there are a couple of ways this could go….

But the first that comes to mind is the one where Adam falls with Lucifer and they have Charlie. Idk if either Lucifer seahorses it and has the baby or if Adam is the one that carries. Idk first man sure, but yk maybe god was like: hey idk what genitals to slap on this guy so let’s do both and gave him both. When Lilith’s gender was determined, it was a flip of a coin. Adam could have just been the mother if it landed on the other side lol. Or maybe if he falls, god strips him of his title as a man, like Lilith, and swaps his genitals. So basically intersex Adam.

Either way, silly girl Charlie, here ya go! (I don't draw her enough)

Even as Adam's kid, I don't actually think Charlie changes all that much. Personality wise, at least. She is very much like her dad lucifur- a silly lovable dreamer- but some of Adam still leaks through, obviously. She's definitely a mommy's girl, and in this case, I'd like to think Adam is the mom figure. So instead of taking liliths more regal and more elegant choices of fashion and way of goinh, she takes on more of a punk and grunge look with a mix of her original style and a bit more agression.

For her looks I think she'd have dirty blonde hair and it would be short (it's my preference, lol), and her clothes are a bit more... punk? She dresses much more losely imo , def because of Adam. She keeps her horns out for the fun of it and her emo face still kinda stays with her, especially after Adam praising her for her look when she was in that phase. She does some sick eyeliner and eyshadow. She HAS to play an instrument so she knows the bass and strangly enough the keytar. I also think she's a bit chubbier because she maybe shared her dad's appetite idk.

But overall, she is still a sweet girl with a dream to help sinners. She's just way more assertive and quick tempered.

I won't lie, I got inspired by one of my friends' relationships with her dad and both lovingly insult each other to death. They talk about how much they "hate" eachother, but everyone clearly understands that both would die for one another for sure, especially Adam.

He may say something like. "Oh Charlie? Yeah if it were up to me I'd sell her for a new guitar" right infront of her but she's laughing so hard as Adam holds her close in a side hug because she knows he's joking.

Idk how to explain it but ifkyk, they lovingly talk bad about eachother but somehow it makes you understand that they really do love eachother as parent and child.

As for Adam and Lucifurs relationship, I genuinely dunno. I kinda want them to be a bit strained because even after the fall, Adam is still loyal to heaven. He's not lilith, who wants freedom - Adam likes security, and even if rule under heaven is restrictive, atleast hes safe. Charlie, to Adam, is one of the only good things that ever came out of the fall, and he would fall again and again just so she could be his. Like Lilith, Charlie is mainly parented by Adam, but it's because Charlie was the only shining light Adam had down in hell. Overtime Adam and Lucifur possibly heal and truly get together, but when Charlie was really young, they were not an item at all.

Then there are other options of Charlie being Lucifur and Adam's baby-

Charlie is born under an angel Adam and fallen lucifur and Adam decides to take Charlie and raise her in heaven

Adam is in no way related to Charlie, but one way or meets her and kinda just adopts her. Lucifur doesn't know why but Adam stakes claim ig

There are more potential ones but I'm not really a writer or an idea maker lol. IM NOT THAT CREATINVE SJVDEHBSBS But I think that this is just a great concept lolol a bit harder to work with than the secret royal family stuff but still fun to think about overall

I might come back to this one day o3o

#hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel #adamsapple #adam hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x adam #lucifer hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie

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speirslore · 8 months ago

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when you get hurt hcs [officers + roe]

a/n: requested <3 usually in my writing the reader is implied to be a part of easy company in a vague way bc i know ppl have different preferences but some of these include getting shot (not graphic or anything) so ig that implies they're on the front lines

lmk if you would like to be on my taglist! @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck

[dick winters]

you hit your head prettyyyy hard, and you're out of it, probably definitely concussed

it happens right in front of dick and he tries really hard to keep calm

he wants to be strong and level-headed for you

shows more obvious affection then any of the men have ever seen from him; pets your hair, holds your hand, is always by your side

he immediately gets you a medic and transported to an aid station and doesn’t want to leave you

but when dick's back with easy, he gets uncharacteristically easily angry and frustrated...

he gets quiet and withdrawn and a little snappy with zelensky and nix... and they both immediately know why

whenever he can go see you, he's there.. he even gets behind on all his paperwork (but nix offers to help)

which dick is hesitant to accept for many reasons, he feels guilty, like he's not focusing on his duties but lew is always good at keeping the reports concise lol

very fragile with you, he isn't underestimating you but he just absolutely does not want to push you or hurt you

is a stickler for the rules, follows absolutely everything the doctor says

he has to wake you up every few hours and you keep insisting it’s unnecessary and dick is absolutely not having it

you try to get up and move around and all dick has to hear is the sheets moving and he just gives you that stare, a little bit like a disappointed mom, and you're right back laying down

he’s way more clingy than usual, wants to be by your side, subtly holding your hand

in that moment it definitely hits him how much he loves and cares about you... he hasn't really had time or space to process those feelings until now <3

[lewis nixon]

it does not look good at first

it's really scary for everyone there, you loose a lot of blood and lose consciousness

lew is not there when you're first shot in the leg and everyone is very glad that he didn't have to see it

but when he finds out... oh he is not keeping cool, is not pretending even a little bit to be okay

starts lashing out and snaps at the driver who's taking him to the hospital to drive faster, mad that they didn't tell him sooner, mad that you were injured, mad at the war, furious at absolutely everything

lew has to be monitored by dick not to go full self destruction mode and get incredibly drunk

he hates just sitting with the constant uncomfortable feeling and reminder that you're hurting

he will not leave your side at first when you’re sleeping a lot, on a lot of medicine, and out of it

one nurse does approach him when he's the only vistor in the hospital left, "sir, the visiting hours-"

he just looks up, obviously devastated, voice cracking, "i'm can't leave. you can drag me out but i'm not going, thanks."

they back off after that

does go through a phase where he hates going once you're more conscious because he kills him to see you like that and face this feels irrational guilt he feels for not being there

because he definitely has the tendency to avoid his problems and things that hurt him

but it hurts you too and you don't fully understand

you look up at dick and harry, slightly delirious from the morphine, tearing up, "does he not want to see me anymore?"

after that they do drag lew to see you and you just straight up tell him feeling guilty is pointless and not fair to himself (or you)

and then it's right back to not leaving your side and always trying to make you laugh or smile

[ron speirs]

okay so i love the angel of the company x speirs trope

by now he's the co of easy and your relationship is a widely known secret...

he assigns you and the group of other men to a patrol... it wasn't an overly risky or bad order, a standard order from sink

but you guys make contact and you're shot in the arm

it just absolutely wrecks him

the guys feel like he's just going to go across enemy lines and find the soldier that shot you himself

the rest of the guys are furious too because everyone just absolutely loves you

for a short time, he's mad at the other soldiers on the patrol and you have to reminder him they didn't do anything wrong

but ron is really just irrationally mad at himself for not being there, for not being psychic, he's just angry he somehow didn't stop this

ron is not controlling and not possessive and he knows you can hold your own but he feels responsible for taking care of you and making sure you're safe

even if he can't quite articulate all of those feelings yet

he doesn't understand all the emotions he feels and doesn't even have time to try to understand them

he listens so attentively to the doctors, he can recite everything they've said word for word

like with chuck, he demands the absolute best from the doctors

this incident shows his more compassionate side and the guys start to see how much he really cares about you... bc they're protective of you too!

you have to comfort him and his voice breaks

and he feels weak and he feels bad that you're comforting him and not the other way around

"i'm messing everything up, doing everything wrong," he says more to himself but you frown, eyebrows furrowed and everything

"you're so hard on yourself, ron. when it's not your fault, it was routine, you didn't shoot me. then i'd be really pissed." you smile and he smiles weakly... but he's on edge for a longgg time after this

[carwood lipton]

unfortunately you and lip just cannot catch a break

your leg gets injured while he has pneumonia

it's not a major injury but a bullet ricocheted off of a wall and slightly grazed you and you need a few days of staying off of it

lip really tries to be comforting

and wants to be there for you and he is!

but it's very hard for him, he just wants you to be okay so badly, even when he himself isn't okay

trying to lecture you about staying off of your leg and asking others for help but breaking out into a coughing fit and then you're trying to help him sit up and to go get some hot water for him

and then he's back to telling you to stop and starts hoarsely calling for luz

it's a MESS

but carwood is a natural caretaker and has been one for most of his life

it makes him hover sooo badly especially because since he's sick too he doesn't have a lot of work to keep him busy

but you're not complaining honestly, it's nice to have more private time and something of a break, even if you're both miserable

you get the special privilege of an actual private back bed room with a mattress and blankets

kind of a bonding experience

you just laugh because what the fuck

it's kind of romantic, first time in a longgg time in an actual bed together

you just go back and forth talking about your future and the life you want after the war

"i don't like this wallpaper," you murmur into his chest

he laughs and that turns into coughing again and you're just rubbing his back trying not to bend your leg... domestic bliss <3

[buck compton]

buck... does not take it well

he takes it extremely hard

like his reaction to joe and bill...

you have pneumonia and the peniciln you need isn't available in bastogne

and it's even worse that he finds out you're sick only a few hours after that and that you've been sick and struggling for the past few days

maybe his reaction would've been different earlier on in the war

but now, it just feels like a destructive domino effect that's sparing no one

it's obvious after all of his friends injuries and your pneumonia that he couldn't stay on the front line... his red bleary eyes and slightly trembling hands said enough

when he gets taken off the line, you're both in an aid station together for a few hours before you're both transferred to different hospital

so his presence is silent reassurance

you want so badly to comfort him but you're so sick and he doesn't want you to, he feels so guilty leaving you

but you hoarsely tell him he needs a break and to process what happened

you're feeling slightly better this day so that makes it a little better... but not that much

both of you have been through hell

but there is a light in the tunnel... or at least you feel that way

buck isn't on the front lines anymore and you both have a chance at a life together post-war

he does not want to leave you, it has to take a lot of malarkey's coaxing him and promising to update buck

[eugene roe]

gene can't decide if having medical knowledge makes it better or worse

and if being the medic and being the one to have their hands covered in the your blood, was better than leaving it in the hands of someone else

he decides it's awful... definitely worse

the very few hours he slept, it was just dreaming of your terrified face

and he wakes with a jolt and is completely miserable

and life just goes on...

a lot of pacing and murmuring

gene closes in on himself when he's upset and stressed, so he becomes even quieter than normal

and the other guys are worried like ??? do we need to intervene and lip just stops them, "leave him alone, he'll be okay."

prays for you a lot, gripping his rosary so tightly and the photo that he has of the two of you when you were still in england

when you both felt some semblance of normalcy

he can't abandon the company to stay with you full time at the aid station to his incredible frustration and disappointment

it's just hard for him to go on like everything's fine, it shatters whatever illusion he has of fairness and hope and safety

whenever someone else gets injured or they need supplies, he'll take any excuse to ride back to the aid station to see you

and if anyone else goes, they always see you and give gene an update

winters definitely notices and tries to give him opportunities to see you

likes watching you rest and sleep (because you definitely needed it, even before you got injured) in the sweetest, non-creepy way

gene loves to just sit with you, see you with his own eyes, and know for certain that you're okay

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers imagine #dick winters x reader #lewis nixon x reader #carwood lipton x reader #ron speirs x reader #buck compton x reader

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risuola · 1 year ago

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RUTHLESS LOVER — F. READER x FUSHIGURO TOJI

Karma is a bitch. That's what they say and yours will be spectacular for the stunt you pulled off. Was it wise to get in the way of the most dangerous contract killer there is? No. Will Toji get his revenge on you? Most likely.

cw: smut, age gap (Toji is about 30 years old, reader is in her twenties), both reader and Toji are contract killers, tiny bit angsty if you squint, violence and blood mentioned, physical abuse on the reader is described briefly (Toji’s angry, okay?), death threats, lovers to enemies and back to lovers kinda situation, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), pet names, reader discretion is advised — 4k words

PROMPTS: 59. Karma is a bitch. 66. I hate trying to put my desire into words when my body knows exactly what to say. Let’s go home. 71. Drop the attitude.

a/n: this piece was requested; I had so much fun writing it! it's long, as usual, because I just love to have some plot in here, hope you don't mind it. enjoy! : D

Being a part of a world of contract killers is something you inherited from your clan. You were given no choice, but to train your strength and skill, build endurance and get rid of most of the human emotions only to become effective as paid murderer. At first, the thought terrified you, even though you were exposed to blood and death from the age as young as five, but seeing it and being responsible for it are two different things. Taking someone’s life was something you couldn’t imagine yourself doing, but you had to – with shaking hands, you shot a man in the head, missing with the first bullet and wasting another one. You were only fourteen, but your hands already were stained red.

Almost a decade later, death doesn’t phase you anymore. Pushing through the trauma, you became one of the very best in the area, almost hundred percent effective, quick and efficient, and what comes with that, very highly demanded and paid. When you turned eighteen, you left your clan and not knowing what to do with your life further, you sticked to one thing you were good at – killing, and you worked on your own from that time on.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, pressing your back against the cold, rough wall. Your fingers grip the gun tightly and you quickly try to think of a way out. This was supposed to be one of those missions that you were most likely going to fail, and you didn't care as long as you got out alive.

"You were so brave back then and now you're hiding?" male voice bounces off the empty corners of the mansion, echoing in such a way that you're not sure where it's coming from. You can't hear his footsteps, but you know he's on the move. "That's disappointing, are you that frightened?"

"Why would I be frightened, huh?" you ask, checking the nearest hallway and making your way through it, slowly and quietly, careful not to make any unnecessary noise.

Situations like this are usually a complication – when two assassins are assigned the same target by two unrelated parties, it often makes things more difficult, but you're used to dealing with that. You're just faster, better at your job, and you can easily take down a grown man in a hand-to-hand encounter, but not this man. Toji Fushiguro is not a man you can take down, no matter how much force you put into it. He's definitely the most wanted criminal of the present time, infamous with high demands and no limits. He's perfect for the job – ridiculously strong, with a body hard and muscular, but insanely fast at the same time. He's bulletproof, he's unbeatable. The definition of a one-man army, he's said to have succeeded in all but one of his missions. A few years ago, it was the biggest assassination of the century in the history of Japan, a group of important politicians made as the target. With an idiotic amount of money thrown into the job, Toji was easily the most logical choice when it came to who to hire. The spectacular failure had almost cost him his reputation and his job, he was absent from the scene for over a year and it was over a year and it was you who was responsible for the unfortunate ending for him.

You were young at the time, in need to make a living after escaping your clan's clutches, and you took small jobs here and there, trying to make a name for yourself in a world full of respectable assassins. Unknown at the time, you wrapped few people around your finger and found out about the ordered assassination of the politicians. This was it; this was your chance not only to earn some real money, but also to secure your position. The job was long-term, it required a lot of research and observation, but you were well aware of Fushiguro, who was chosen to do it in the first place, so instead of racing with him and risking your life by getting in his way, you stripped yourself of all hitman traits and deliberately crossed paths with him. You became lovers. You made him drop his guard, used your charms to get your name off his list of suspects, which cleared the way for you to learn his work plan and everything he had researched. For a few months you've been with him, spending endless nights beneath his powerful body, and when everything was ready, you just ate the cherry off the top of the cake. You made a few crucial alterations to his notes, as subtle as changing the time by a few minutes, but those few minutes gave you an open door to complete his mission. You killed those politicians with clear, long-range shots to the head, took the money for it and planned to leave after that, but Toji had seen you.

"I don't know, you tell me," his deep voice reaches your ears again and you look back nervously, seeing nothing but empty spaces. You hate the echo in this place and you hate how easily Toji's appearance makes you lose your calm. It doesn't happen often, you're usually very composed, you're a cold thinker and emotions never get the better of you, but you're smart. You know when to act with confidence and when to back off, and this situation is definitely the one to back off from. In a close confrontation, you're no match for Fushiguro. "Oh, you must be scared to death as you're tippy-toeing through these corridors, clutching your little gun like it's going to save you."

"Aren't you a little cocky?" you try to keep your voice steady, but the accuracy with which he described you makes you feel uneasy. You look around once more, pushing your senses to their limits to catch anything in the surroundings that might indicate the direction from which his voice came.

"Oh, hardly. I'm just having fun. I've waited so long to finally meet you again. I must admit, the stunt you pulled on me was quite impressive, I did not see it coming," you can hear the amused tone in his voice, it sounds almost sadistic and you can easily imagine his lips curling into a smirk.

When Toji realized that his little girl, the one he thought would one day become his wife, was the person behind his failure, his blood boiled. He allowed himself to be a pawn in your hands and you took almost everything from him, so he promised revenge and researched you for months. The more he learned, the more it made sense, but it also impressed him in a way. Remembering how easy it is to snap and bend your body to his liking, he couldn't help but be in awe of the fact that you were capable of taking down a gang all by yourself or pull off dangerous missions completely alone. His attraction to you grew the more he got to know about you, and if it weren't for the mistake you made when planning your little mischief, he'd probably propose right away.

"I could have dropped a building on your head and you wouldn't have noticed," you snapped with a little too much courage even for your own liking, and the laughter that followed your little statement only reassured you of how screwed you were.

"A lil' mouthy, aren't we?" He laughs, and once again you turn around at the faint rustle behind you.

"Would you prefer me to shut up?"

"Oh no, speak while you still can," his voice rumbles against the walls again and you are sick of the game. Your own senses betray you and you move forward, almost running, while clutching the weapon he has already pointed out to be useless against him.

"Is the threat to crush my throat on the table, or do you mean my death in general?"

"There are so many delightfully horrible things I could do to you, I am not sure which one to choose."

God, how much you hate this. Pictures of many terrifying, spine-chilling punishments run through your mind, and at this point you give up the job completely.

"To be perfectly honest, I thought you had retired from the field," you tell him, calculating the possibility of outrunning him. "After the most spectacular failure in the history of failures, I assumed you wouldn't be showing up again."

"I wouldn't worry about that, sweetheart. If I were you, I would worry about myself."

"You're just a talker, Fushiguro. I'm not afraid of an old fart like you."

"Drop the attitude."

The split second you had before receiving the hardest blow to the stomach you'd ever experienced was nowhere near enough to react. It sent you flying many meters away, and the impact ripped a hole in the thin wall you hit with your back. Your vision goes blurry as you land on the marble floor, surrounded by luxuriously wallpapered debris, and for a moment you think this is it. Everything hurts, you feel as if all your insides were broken by that one blow. The metallic taste of blood fills your mouth and you cough, turning your body to the side, you feel like throwing up, but only red comes out of your throat.

"Did it hurt?" the man steps through the hole and it's the first time you've seen him since the day you took his job years ago. He looks even taller than you remember, the black short-sleeved shirt clinging to his bulging muscles as he makes his way towards you, and as if your limbs were unconsciously moving, you try to slide away from him. "Poor little thing, not so brave now, are you?" he taunts and you remain silent, aware of how every word can be used against you. "Cat got your tongue?"

You move away, but he grabs your ankle and pulls you in. His long fingers claw at your cheeks as he reaches up and looks at you with amusement, pulling your face in front of his own. "See, sweetheart, karma is a bitch, and yours will be just as spectacular as the stunt you pulled on me."

Helplessly, you grip his thick forearm, hoping to force the dead grip on your face to loosen, but to no avail. His strength is unparalleled and you are damned. You put everything you've got into the kick that lands cleanly on his chest and he lets go of you, unimpressed by the attack. He doesn't even flinch, but with the freedom you've earned, you just run away, desperately trying to put as much distance between you and him as humanly possible. Maybe if you could somehow get to the airport and fly to the other side of the world, you'd be safe for a while?

"Do you really think I'm going to let you run away again?" he grows in front of you out of nowhere and you barely manage to stop yourself before running straight into his chest. With how ripped he is, that alone would probably break a nose. "No, there's no way out for you, princess," his lips are curled into a grin so cold it could freeze the blood in your veins, and before you can turn around, his big hand is wrapped around your neck. He pushes you against the wall, this time it's concrete, but it still cracks from the force he's used. It's getting harder to breathe, you feel like your throat is going to be crushed any second. "You should just say you're sorry and I might consider not strangling you to death."

"I'm sorry," you choke out almost too fast, too desperate, and he laughs out loud.

"You'd do anything I told you to save yourself, wouldn't you?" he mocks, but the hold on your neck loosens just enough to allow the slightest flow of air through your windpipe. "If I told you to suck my dick, would you get down on your knees?"

You don't reply, you don't even know how to reply. The answer is obvious, you would definitely give him a head if it would convince him to spare your life, but you know it wouldn't be a deal breaker. It would just be a power move before he threatens you some more and you don't want to give him the satisfaction of using you if his plan is to torture you further.

"No," you finally mutter, digging your nails into his forearm, but instead of letting go, he tightens his grip around your neck, making you whimper and squint. "T-toji-"

"Look what you've done, that's going to leave a bruise for sure," he chuckles, throwing you to the side like a rag doll. Your weight is nothing to him, but you feel it when it hits the ground.

"Fuck..." you exhale and pull yourself up as fast as you can, both ashamed and angry at how helpless you are against him. Two decades of training, hundreds of men you've taken down with nothing but your bare hands, and now you can't do a goddamn thing. Pathetic.

Fed up with your own behavior, you decide to try and fight. If there's no way he's going to let you out alive, you might as well cause him some trouble. Any trouble. And so, you engage him in hand-to-hand combat, making sure to dodge each of his blows and land yours cleanly. Your fists and kicks hit his body but do no damage. It's as if he's allowing your punches to connect with his form, as if he's having so much fun and it's getting on your nerves. You use everything in your path – dishes fly, doors slam, glass shatters and chairs are thrown, but when the wooden stool breaks, easily stopped by Toji's forearm, you're lost.

Once again you find yourself against the wall, only this time his body is pressed against yours without any additional hurt being inflicted. He keeps you pinned down and you can hear his heartbeat, feel the bulging erection resting on your stomach and you look up to see his face. His black hair hangs loosely over his dark green eyes, his gaze jumping from your eyes to your parted lips as you pant shallowly.

"To be honest, I don't give a fuck about what you did," he finally admits, lowering his head enough to plant a kiss on the corner of your lips. "I want you back. Is that something you'd want, too?"

"Does my life depend on how I answer?" you ask quietly, your hands landing on his sides. You feel the hard muscle that seems to surround his entire body, it's almost too impressive to be real.

"No. I'm not going to kill you. I've already taught you a lesson, you won't mess with me again."

"I won't," you agree, feeling your body deflate. The tension that kept you stiff and afraid almost painfully, leaves your form and you lean into him. "Then I want you back, too."

"Great." Toji's lips fall upon yours and you give in instantly, a soft moan rumbling in your chest as his skilled mouth molds to yours, as if he was created to kiss you. One of your hands cups his face while the other runs through his raven locks, soft as silk, and you grab a handful of them, pulling him away before you get too lost in the feeling. He groans in discontent, looking down at you with the expression of a child whose toy has been taken away. With your thumb, you wipe away the red residue of your blood that remains on his lower lip.

"We should get out of here," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes, but agrees. "And then you'll tell me how much you've missed me."

"I hate trying to put my desire into words when my body knows exactly what to say," he chuckles, scooping you up in his arms as if you're nothing but air. "Let's go home."

The ride home is quick, too quick in fact, not giving you enough time for the pain in your stomach to subside, but you can't focus on that too much when he's all over you as soon as the doors to his apartment close. Toji's hands push your clothes away, pulling and tugging at the many layers of fabric you have on, and you can hear loose buttons bouncing off the wooden floor as he leads you toward the bedroom. You know the place, it's the same one you spent many long months in before you ran away from him.

"Toji," you whisper as he slides his hand down your unbuttoned pants, right into your underwear, and the sudden pressure he deftly applies over your clit makes your body shudder from the unexpected wave of euphoric impulses. He knows your buttons, he knows how to push them to rid you of any composure, and he uses that knowledge to the fullest.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he responds to his name, his lips brushing your ear as you cling to his enormous bicep for dear life. "Talk to me, does it feel good?"

"Oh yes," you mutter, determined not to be the only one stuttering, so you lower your hand, your fingers slipping easily under the waistband of his gray pants and through the fabric of his boxers you feel the shape of his cock. It's rock hard, struggling to find enough room in the trap of his underwear, and as you stroke it with your warm palm, a low growl escapes his mouth. Taking it a step further, you push the cotton down and your breath hitches at the sight of his erection springing free, the sheer heaviness of the girth making it impossible for him to fully stand up.

"Like what you see?" he teases, sliding one of his long fingers through your folds and into your hole, curling it so perfectly that you moan against his muscular chest. With ease, Toji lays you down on the dark sheets on his bed, not stopping his handy work for a split second before hovering over you, his lips glued to the soft skin above your neck. Quickly it's clear that the marks will last for days, but that is the last thing you can worry about when his fingers are stretching you so lovely.

You push your pants down, desperate to give him more space, and he gets the hint, pulling them along with your panties off with a sharp tug of his free hand. Pleased with how eagerly you spread your legs for him, he hums against the dip of your shoulder, a grin painting his expression in amusement as he adds two more fingers. They slip right in, your slick covering them right away, and you whimper, digging your fingernails into his strong arms. All your mind can focus on is the irresistible want to have his dick inside you, you need it and everything that comes with it – the burning pain, the roughness, the bites and bruises. Toji Fushiguro is a ruthless lover, he's able to set all your nerves ablaze, to make your mind blank, make you forget your own name.

The warmth piles up in your stomach, you slowly fall into a trance as he abuses the sweet spot inside you and you don't even notice how he moves down your body. The realization hits you when his tongue flicks against your clit and your whole body shudders at the new layer of pleasure. The satisfied smile never leaves his face as he looks up at your worn-out self while he's working on the nerve bud. His fingers move and twist inside you as he sucks, licks and kisses simultaneously, taking away your breath and any last shred of composure. He's savoring the sweetness, the taste driving him wild and he knows how close you are, the muscles of your insides squeezing his fingers in waves, your thighs trembling against his broad shoulders and your fingers clawing at the sheets with crashing force.

His name rolls off your tongue in a breathy way and he hums against your clit, the vibration sending you over and pulling you under the ocean of endorphins. You come onto his mouth, his fingers covered in white and all you can see is stars. Short pants and broken breaths leave your parted mouth as he presses his own against them in a sloppy, messy kiss. Toji kicks off his own pants and gives himself a few pumps before sliding the head of his cock along your folds.

You whimper into the kiss, slipping your hands under the black t-shirt, desperate to feel his body. With a brief pause, he breaks the connection between your mouths to remove the rest of clothes and you give in, taking the moment to catch your breath.

"Fuck," you cry out, your back arching, your head falling back at the feeling of burning stretch as he pushes his size into you. It hurts, but the pain is delicious, it makes you want more and he gives you just that. He grunts low and gravelly as he collapses onto one of his elbows, overwhelmed by the tight squeeze of your warm hole and as he bottoms out, he takes a second to collect himself. It would be unacceptable if you milk him so quickly, just with the mind-blowing sensation of your cunt.

"So tight," he purrs against your neck, pulling one of your thighs over his hip. Your lips collide again and he rolls his hips for the first time, teasingly pulling all the way out only to push back in one swift motion. He does this several times before finally setting a pace that has you holding onto his shoulders just to steady yourself. With the strength of his body, his thrusts are ruthless, almost violent, but it's the roughness that makes him such a great lover. The intensity of his fat cock almost tearing you in half is what gives you the highest highs and he knows exactly how to use his girth to fuck you stupid.

You're whimpering into his lips, your body shaking beneath him as he rolls his pelvis, angling his hips so he can kiss every sensitive spot inside you with every thrust. The power of his pistons increases. Drinking in your reactions, he feels himself growing, his cock twitching and flexing in your warm embrace, a white coating forming at the base of his cock and he feels lightheaded.

Grabbing both your knees, Toji presses them almost to your ears, your calves hook over his shoulders and as he rams his length into you, you feel like you're going to pass out from the sheer amount of stimulation. With each stroke, his body bounces off your clit, the sound of skin slapping fills the bedroom and you feel yourself squirming as your legs tremble and your breath stutters. You're close and he knows it, the smirk on his lips giving it away as he takes in the sight of you losing every last bit of connection to the real world.

It only takes a few more unforgivable, deep slams of his cock against your sweet spot to have you shaking violently. It's too much, the feeling of him stretching you to the very brink and the heat surges through your veins, setting your body alight as pleasure erupts. The overwhelming wave of euphoria makes drown in the blissful haze as you feel the orgasm unfolding and he thrusts his hips through it, chasing his own release.

As Toji cums inside you, pumping his warm load into you, you come once more, much weaker, but for your overstimulated body it feels like an explosion all over again. A mixture of broken pants fills the room as the wet, sex sounds fade away. Toji pulls out and flips you both over so that you can lie on top of his body instead of him collapsing upon yours, possibly crushing you with his weight.

His demeanor changes completely, with aftercare he's gentle, his hands soft on your skin as he caresses you. “I missed you,” he whispers against your hair, planting soft kisses on the top of your head and you smile.

“I missed you too, Toji.”

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necrotic-nephilim · 2 months ago

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"I don't care how much you hate me - you need to eat!"

DickTim during Bruce's Lost In Time phase but with Dick stopping Tim from leaving💕

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

fucked up DickTim during Bruce's lost in time era my beloved. this is 2k of *very* dead dove DickTim, with one-sided feelings from Dick and unreliable narrator vibes. it is a smidge OOC, just bc of how dark Dick gets, but i think i kept it best i could. enjoy <3

It wasn’t supposed to go this far.

Dick thought he was doing this to honor Bruce. The last thing Bruce would’ve wanted was to see Tim drive himself over the edge and go too far, all for a fruitless chase to bring Bruce back from the dead. And sure, maybe deep down Dick knew he reflected some of Bruce’s worst traits. The obsessive control. The worrying to the point of being overbearing.

It came with the capes and spandex territory. Especially now that Dick had decided to man up and put on that damned cowl.

But even at Bruce’s worst, Dick was pretty sure he wouldn’t dare go this far.

Dick knew it was wrong. What he didn’t know was why he couldn’t stop himself. Why the gnawing guilt was so easy to compartmentalize and why every good point Tim had got ignored by Dick’s logical side, brushed off by one simple mantra.

He was doing this for Tim’s own good.

All of this was to protect Tim from doing something he would regret.

Dick had done brain scans, had Tim magically checked up, and even managed to get him to properly talk to a psychiatrist. Everything came back normal. Tim was perfectly healthy.

So maybe this was something that had always been a part of Tim. Maybe it was a bad idea for any of them to have let Tim into the vigilante world so young.

Some people could handle it. Some people couldn’t. Dick had seen firsthand how it broke minds and ruined lives. He’d seen people turn to drugs, cults, murder, and god knew what else just to try to cope with it.

That didn’t make Tim weak. Tim Drake was the furthest thing from weak, and Dick would fight anyone on that.

This was just a hard life to cope with. Sometimes, people needed support through the worst of it.

That’s what Dick was doing.

Giving support.

“I don’t care how much you hate me- you need to eat!” Dick stepped back, dodging Tim’s attempt to kick his feet out. The bowl of salad Dick had set next to Tim was completely ignored.

Dick had learned not to give Tim hot food after Tim flung potato soup at his head the first time, chunks of potato stuck to his hair.

Tim’s scowl was lethal. Technically, he wasn’t restrained. He could move freely around the manor and do whatever he wanted.

It was the shock collar that kept him from leaving the grounds or breaking into the Batcave.

Dick had decided that would be the most humane way. The shock was only momentarily painful, it was designed to knock Tim unconscious if he tried to get somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. The collar had taken three tries before Dick found a lock Tim couldn’t pick, and a few more unfortunate incidents of Tim finding weak spots in the barrier.

But Dick always found Tim and brought him back home.

That was what was important.

The fact Tim kept trying to break out and go to god knew where on some fruitless quest to find a dead man made Dick more secure about this decision.

He was doing this to protect Tim. Once Tim worked through the worst of his grief, all this would be in the past. Something they would laugh at.

Hopefully.

It was like one of Tim’s contingency plans. Really, he of all people should understand.

But he didn’t. Which was what hurt Dick the most, the angry look in Tim’s eyes and the way his fists clenched when Dick came into Tim’s room. Tim had access to the whole manor, but he stuck mostly to his room, refusing to talk to anyone.

Especially Dick.

And now, it seemed, his latest tactic was a hunger strike.

“I’ll let you look over the burglary case we’re working on,” Dick offered. “I’ll bring you all the files and your computer if you just…” he gestured to the salad, “eat something.”

That had worked, in the beginning. Dick could coax good behavior out of Tim by offering to let Tim help with whatever case Dick was facing. It took a load off of Dick’s back and gave Tim something to focus on.

Of course, Dick couldn’t leave Tim’s computer with him. The first time Dick did that, Tim managed to break all of the firewalls and safeties put on it to start a case file about Bruce. Dick had to delete everything and only allow Tim monitored access from that point on.

After that, Tim really didn’t like Dick.

“Can’t you just go back to ignoring me?” Tim snapped. He sounded… resigned. Emotionless in a way he hadn’t been, like all the fight he’d been putting up for weeks was finally going out.

“Ignoring you?” Dick frowned. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut at the words. He kept a wide berth from Tim, wary of more punches being thrown, and decided to sit at Tim’s desk chair, a good few feet from where Tim was on his bed. “What makes you think I’m ignoring you?”

Tim scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You only talk to me to ask if I’ve dropped the Bruce thing yet, or to try to force self-care on me. The rest of the time you ignore me so you don’t have to face your own guilt.”

Dick violently shook his head. “That’s not-” he sighed, running a hand over his face- “I’m just busy, I promise. Between being Batman, managing Bruce’s estate, and trying to handle Damian, I just…” his voice trailed off. So many things to balance. He still didn’t know how Bruce managed it all. “I haven’t made enough time for you. I’m sorry.”

He decided to take on the burden of helping Tim. It was his responsibility and Tim was right, Dick was doing a piss poor job of taking care of him.

No wonder he pushed away Dick’s attempts to reconcile. It must’ve come across as half-assed, in Tim’s eyes.

Dick wished Bruce was here. He would’ve known the right way to handle this.

“Don’t start now,” Tim said icily. He picked up a book from his nightstand and opened it, pointedly not looking at Dick anymore. “Just leave me alone.”

“Will you eat first?” Dick asked. “If you just eat, I’ll go. I promise.”

With a loud sigh, Tim snapped his book shut. He picked up the salad Dick brought and shoveled down mouthfuls, all while glaring at Dick. Once the bowl was empty he set it back down and spread his hands, waiting.

Dick didn’t leave.

He wasn’t going to abandon Tim.

Dick stood up and Tim relaxed for just a moment before he realized Dick was walking toward Tim’s bed instead of the door. Slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal, Dick crept forward. He chose to sit on the foot of the bed, still far enough away from Tim to give him personal space.

“Tim-”

“Out. Now. You promised.”

Dick ran his fingers through his hair. “I know, but-”

“What do you want from me?” Tim almost yelled the words. “Do you want me to just say I don’t believe Bruce is alive? Will you finally leave me alone, then?”

“Can you say it under a truth serum?”

Tim went quiet, grinding his jaw.

“I want you to get better,” Dick sighed.

“What happens when I get better, then?” Tim challenged. He moved to sit cross-legged on the bed. So close to Dick that Dick could reach out and touch him, but emotionally, they were miles apart and it hurt Dick’s chest. “You ‘fix me’-” he put finger quotes around the words- “to your liking, then set me free?”

“Don’t talk about yourself like you’re an animal.” Dick frowned, fist clenching at the idea Tim thought of himself that way.

Tim just stared at him. “Then don’t treat me like one.” He raised a hand and tapped the collar.

It looked like it had new scratch marks on it.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dick said. He tried to find the words. It was so hard to explain it when Tim wasn’t listening to him. He wasn’t even given a chance. Dick tried to reach out. For once, Tim didn’t pull away. He was completely rigid under Dick’s touch, though. His hand rested on Tim’s arm, thumb stroking back and forth. “You know I’m doing this because… because I’m worried about you. And I care, Tim.”

“No you don’t,” Tim leaned away from Dick, but didn’t pull his arm free. “Whatever version of me exists in your head-”

“Tim-”

“-isn’t real,” Tim ignored him and kept going. “You won’t even listen to my theory-”

“Tim!” Dick tightened his grip, ignoring the small wince of pain that came out of Tim. “I’m not entertaining that kind of talk.” He tried to be firm but loving with his tone. But even Dick could hear the anger and frustration that was bleeding off of him. “This is practically self harm.”

“I know I’m right,” Tim mumbled. He wouldn’t look at Dick. “Will you just leave, now?”

Against his better judgment, Dick stood up. He had to patrol soon. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk after-”

“I’m going to sleep,” Tim snapped. “No, we won’t.”

Dick tried to throw his hands up in frustration, but he was still holding onto Tim’s arm.

He didn’t want to let go.

He knew Tim was waiting for him to let go, but Dick couldn’t force his fingers to release. He just stared for a moment, breathing hard.

Dick was doing this out of love.

And now, he loved Tim too much to want to let go of him.

Did he have to patrol tonight? He was pretty sure the Birds of Prey were in Gotham.

“Dick,” Tim said carefully, starting to scoot away from him. The apprehension in his voice was unsteady, eyes narrowed. He was always too on edge. “I’m tired. Just go on patrol.”

Instead of letting go, Dick lifted his other hand and held Tim’s face. Tim flinched but stopped inching away. He was completely still, barely even breathing.

He looked afraid of Dick.

Dick’s chest clenched. He wished he could get Tim to understand. Dick leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tim’s forehead.

He wanted to kiss somewhere else, somewhere a few inches lower and just as unobtainable. That was a feeling Dick buried deep, deep inside of him.

It wasn’t why he was doing this.

A hand pressed against Dick’s chest. Trying to push Dick away, but for just a moment, the pressure and warmth almost made Dick shudder. Tim hadn’t properly trained in a while.

He wasn’t actually strong enough to push Dick off of him. If Dick wanted to, Tim couldn’t have stopped him.

But their relationship was already fractured. It would take a long time of repairing and letting Tim heal before Dick could even try pursuing those feelings.

Tim had once had a childhood crush on Dick, though. So he was pretty sure they could work their way up to it, be something more.

Dick pulled away. He let go of Tim’s arm and allowed himself one stroke of Tim’s hair. It was getting a little long, brushing against Tim’s shoulders.

The entire time, Tim remained perfectly still. But his eyes got wider and wider, the way they always did when he had just figured out a case.

Dick was getting too close. He needed to pull back.

“You still have the spare comm link?” Dick asked.

Tim didn’t answer. He just kept staring with those wide, searching eyes. He looked a little pale. Dick should get him some iron supplements, Tim becoming anemic is the last thing Dick wanted.

“Use it if you need me for anything,” Dick continued. He gave Tim what he hoped was a calming smile. “Get some sleep, Tim. I love you.”

He turned and walked out of Tim’s room. Slowed to crawl at a snail’s pace, hoping for an answer from Tim. He would take any kind of answer.

But Tim kept silent, even as Dick took his time intentionally, slowly closing the door. Dick just sighed, turning down the hall to head down to the Batcave.

Someday, he’d get through to Tim. Dick would find a way.

Someday soon.

#necrotic writings #dicktim #tim drake x dick grayson #batcest #dead dove do not eat #whump #this one got iffy at the end i won't lie #and it's bc a person reached out for a difficult conversation as i was writing this #that. emotionally heavily mirrors this fic lmao #so i was in a very tim position #and i think. it fucked with the fic a bit. oops #but many thanks to my partner for editing it for me.#they helped me keep the unreliable delusional narrator vibes with dick #while hopefully conveying tim's feelings correctly too #bc it is implied that tim realizes dick's feelings in the moment and is horrified #knowign that's the real reason dick is keeping him #and dick just won't acknowledge that #so. it's so fun and messy.#i had a lot of fun with this one <3 #slowly but surely #i unbury my askbox hehehe #it's like a sisyphean task but i'm having FUN #if sisyphus was in love with his boulder core.

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burnthoneydrops · 1 year ago

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Could you do a fluff Jamie Tartt imagine where the reader takes care of a drunk Jamie who forgets that they've been dating for months and thinks they're back in their crush phase after they and the boys went out celebrating a win?

Drunk in the Back of the Car (j.t. x fem!reader)

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 654

warnings: language, alcohol

a/n: here you go love! i hope you like it and requests continue to be open!! (also first time writing for jamie so pls be kind lol)

The early 2000’s pop music blasting through the speakers was about to make your brain explode. The boys were celebrating a great victory in their match earlier that day and had all decided to crash this club that Colin had found. The flashing lights and sticky floors were slightly off-putting but the boys just wanted to celebrate and Jamie had insisted you came along too. Keeley and Roy were somewhere, probably at a table stuffed in a corner as Roy hated anyone spotting him. Isaac immediately bought a round of drinks upon entry and thus started the flow of alcohol. You were just glad that you and Jamie had agreed that you would drive home so he could properly celebrate.

Speaking of your boyfriend, he was nowhere to be seen. A group of you had been gathered in front of the bar, chatting and drinking and dancing- though somewhat badly- and then as the night aged on and people found different things that piqued their interests, the group dispersed into smaller groups across the club. You were clumped together with Colin and Sam, chatting about the opposing team from the earlier match, while Colin interspersed some lyrics from the rap songs that were playing overhead. While laughing at Colin doing this weird dance while rapping, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Your boyfriend is smashed,” Roy commented as he held Jamie under his arms. He was clearly having a hard time standing on his own and it seemed like Roy had dragged him from wherever they were previously stationed.

“I’m fine grandad,” Jamie retorted, though slurred and he clearly had to put a lot of thought into the short sentence.

“I’ll take him,” you smiled at Roy, silently thanking him for making sure Jamie got back to you. He nodded and passed Jamie over to you before he walked off, probably going back to find Keeley again. You grabbed one of Jamie’s arms and threw it over your shoulders, leaning his weight into you. “Looks like I’d better get this one home. Enjoy the rest of your night lads”. Sam and Colin say their goodbyes before going to find the other boys.

“Woah, you better be careful there. I’ve got a girlfriend and I don’t think she’d like you touching me like this,” Jamie tries to stand up straighter to get away from you, but almost immediately tips back over.

“I am your girlfriend,” you laugh.

“No way,” Jamie says quietly, in an ‘I can’t believe it’ type of way.

“Come on Jams, let’s get you home”.

Despite the copious amounts of effort it took to get Jamie through your front door- which included him almost throwing up in the back seat of your car- you finally got him in bed in a semi-comfortable position. Once you were sure he wasn’t going to throw up in the bed, at least long enough for you to get ready for bed, you headed to the bathroom to take your makeup off and change out of your clubbing outfit.

“Y/N?” You heard Jamie call from the bed.

“Yes love?” you question, sticking your head out of the bathroom doorway.

“How’d you get into my house?”

“I have a key Jams,” you laugh.

“Did I give you that?” He tilts his head.

“How sloshed did you get Jamie?” You move closer to him, sitting down next to him on the bed.

“Oh my god I’ve got Y/N in my bed,” he whispers more to himself.

“I’ve been sharing a bed with you for the past two months, love,” you remind him, moving his hair away from his sticky forehead.

“Holy shit, no way,” he mutters before passing out again. You laugh at his antics and go back to the bathroom, finishing your nighttime routine before grabbing some water and aspirin for the morning. You were so going to make fun of him tomorrow for this.

#jamie tartt #ted lasso fanfiction #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso #roy kent #keeley jones #sam obisanya #jamie tartt imagines #jamie tartt fluff

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 3 months ago

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WHY ARE PEOPLE LEAVING FANDOM'S? WHAT I HAVE FOUND OUT.

So, I have noticed that a lot of my mutual's for many fandom's ( TUA, TWD, Z-NATION, WWDITS, Derry Girls, HOTD, etc. ) have been dropping like flies.

[ I love you my beautiful friends, and I hope one day you will feel comfortable and safe to come back 😘 ]

It got me thinking, why? Why? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?! But, after talking to a few of my mutual's on other apps, it came down to mainly three common things with these mutual's. ( note, this is not for every fandom / fan, this was just the mutual's that I talked to, okay? )

1. The TV show ended, so there isn't much reason to stick around anymore. ( Umbrella Academy, The Walking Dead, Derry Girls, Z-Nation, What We Do in the Shadows, etc. )

Which is valid. If there are no more ( Ex. Sunday episodes for HOTD or Sunday episodes for TWD ) not many fans wanna stick around.

Then, after so many fans leave. It kind of becomes a 'dead fandom'. Where people sometimes goes back to time to time and be like, "Oh, I remember that show.." for nostalgia.

2. Their interests have changed.

Like any common trend, some people just say, "Nah, I don't like *insert show* anymore. I liked the 5th season and 2nd. But, I'm just not that into *insert genre* tv shows anymore." Again, valid.

Everyone had gone through one kind of phase before. It could have been books ( PJO, HP, etc. ) or fashion ( Skinny jeans, graphic t-shirts, etc. ) or music ( MCR, Blood on the Dance Floor, etc. )

It's fine to grow and change.

3. The fandom doesn't feel like a fandom anymore. This is a BIG one that many have told me.

People are clashing together, book vs tv show fights, character x character ships are constantly hating on each other, death threats are being sent to actors / fans / fanfic writers, you can't share your opinion without someone sending hate, etc.

The best example is HOTD. A fandom that I am in / write for.

Now, now, here me out! I have been very open about the hate in the fandom. You can check. I've gotten hate for writing about highly requested character's ( Aegon, Aemond, etc. ) and I have called out how fans are acting towards each other / actors.

What I don't get is this. We are all in the same fandom.

How did we go from, "Oh, Tom Glynn-Carney is really cute in Aegon's wig. It suits him.", "I have a fan theory that maybe in the next episode they'll do this part from the book because the teaser at the end of the episode it shows..", and, "I hope they put this scene in the show!"

To "Oh, you think Tom Glynn-Carney is cute as Aegon? Well you support r@pe and deserve death threats!", "Oh, you wrote a fanfic / oneshot / etc. for this character? Oh, it has a trope that it being used by a lot of other writers? Here's hate for that!", and, "Tom Glynn-Carney says that Aegon is a complex character...so clearly he supports..."

The main point is that this is why soooooo many of people are dropping out of fandom's. And when people call it out, they either get run out of the fandom as well or blasted for it with death threats.

Fandom's used to be places where people could go to geek out with others. A safe place. It's why there is comic con, etc. People want to know other fans, the want a safe place to go to.

Now, it's become a place where you have to mostly keep your head down low and not say a thing to avoid being run out because you share a different opinion.

In conclusion? I hope that fandom's can be kind to each once again so that people feel safe / comfortable to come back.

To all my beautiful fans who were run out / felt like they had to leave a fandom, I love you and understand why you left. I hope one day you will come back and find joy in the fandom that you once did.

To those of you running out fans / sending death threats. It's you that ruins the fandom. Fandom's were safe places for people, now you've ruined it for those people.

If you don't like a fandom / other fan, you have other options :

1. IGNORE THEM AND LEAVE THEM ALONE!

2. BLOCK A TAG / ACCOUNT YOU DON'T LIKE!

3. DON'T SEND DEATH THREATS!

4. FIND A PART OF THE FANDOM THAT MATCHES YOU AND STICK TO IT!

5. Block their account / tag, ignore them, not send death threats, leave them alone and enjoy the parts of the fandom that matches you.

It's that simple!

----

hopefully i can get this out there. so i am tagging some of the bigger people i know / follow..

@lovelykhaleesiii

@danytar

@lady-ashfade

@targaryen-dynasty

@cayenne1

@perfinn

@two-white-butterflies

@youraverageaemondsimp

#signal boost #hotd #house of the dragon #derry girls #what we do in the shadows #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #the umbrella academy #z nation #house of dragons x reader #house of the dragon x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #toxic fandoms #fandom

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cantwritethetword · 1 month ago

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(2024) TickleTober Day 1: Harvest - Going against the Grain

Fic Descript - Bruce agrees to help out on the Kent farm and, after an off-handed comment from Clark, he decides to see how ticklish superman actually is.

~A/N - Welcome to ticklecrowber2024!!!! (forgive the corny title hehehehehe)

We're starting off this month with a super cute superbat fic requested by an anon. While writing it I'm realising this is gonna be a pre-relationship romantic fic, so hopefully that floats your boat.

Like I mentioned on a post ages ago, I'm not aiming to write full fics for all the prompts this year to hopefully avoid burnout so I'm going into this aiming for a few hundred words - we'll see how that goes.

Hope you like it!

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher

Masterpost Link

TickleTober Masterpost

One of the (few) things Bruce hated about being in love with someone was the way it made him do things.

And not in a suggestive or psychological way, literally he felt compelled to gain some sort of relationship 'brownie points' to subtly prove his worth as a potential partner.

Which was how he had ended up here, about to knock on the door of Clark's farm home.

When superman mentioned needing to do some hard labour around the fields up in Kansas, Bruce found himself offering to help before he could even blink. It wasn't until Clark enthusiastically accepted that the batman fully realised what he had gotten himself into.

Mixing their work and personal lives? At Clark's house no less? Doing something that probably was effortless for Clark, but would be a significant physical strain for Bruce? What was he thinking?! He'll look like a fool...

But, as much as his brain loved to insist on how much of a bad idea this was, Bruce had resisted the temptation to cancel.

And so, he now found himself raising his fist and tapping the wooden door-frame.

"Bruce!" Clark grinned, opening the door fully.

The man was dressed so stereotypically farm-y, Bruce thought to himself. Brown leather boots half-covered by a pair of old denim jeans, topped with a plain white tee and - god he looked good in that red flannel...

"-are you... did you want to come in?" Clark chuckled.

Shit, had Clark invited him in already? Was he that distracted by the superhero in front of him that he fully disregarded any input other than the sight- wait it's happening again-

"Yes!" Bruce blurted out, interrupting his own thoughts. "Sorry, yes. Thanks."

Ugh love made him a mess.

As Clark narrated and explained his way through his humble abode, Bruce couldn't help but get stuck in his own head - again. He barely registered that they had left the house and were now walking through the wheat fields. He knew Clark was giving some really important information as to what exactly they needed to do and where they would need to do it, but it was almost as if his brain was more focused on the sound of Clark's voice than what it was actually saying.

Until Clark giggled.

Like a gunshot, Bruce locked onto the sound with unbridled curiosity. What had caused it? Would it happen again? Whatever it was clearly didn't phase Clark, as he was back to talking about whatever farmyard jargon that was interrupted earlier.

A few more moments passed, and Bruce had never been more focused on Clark's surroundings. What could possibly have made superman laugh like that? And how common of an occurrence was it if Clark didn't even acknowledged it?

Thankfully, it happened again - with Bruce watching the whole thing.

As Clark walked, a few stray spikes of wheat brushed against his bare lower forearms (where he had rolled up the aforementioned flannel). His hand twitched reflexively, and he once again let out a soft giggle at the sensation.

And, once again. Bruce's mouth moved before his brain could catch up.

"What was that?"

Clark half-turned his torso to face Bruce. "Oh, it just tickles."

Bruce flushed at the casualness of Clark's response.

"It's actually one of my favourite parts of walking through here..." Clark continued with a genuine smile. "Something so small being so intense, makes me feel soft.... alive... human..."

Only Clark could make getting tickled by a plant sound so endearing, it was almost enough to make Bruce forget the huge tidbit of Clark lore that had just been revealed to him.

Superman's ticklish??

He didn't have much time to feel the full shock of that information, as Clark was already several paces ahead of him. Bruce half-skipped to catch up, and as he did, something in his mind convinced him to snap off a piece of wheat from beside him.

As they continued their walk towards the edge of the field where they were about to begin work, and Clark continued yapping, Bruce ran his fingers over the wheat piece in his hand. Was he seriously about to try to tickle superman? Would Clark be alright with it? Would he find it weird and repulsive and never speak to Bruce again cause how could he possibly think that was a normal thing to-

stop - Bruce interrupted himself.

no overthinking

Bruce took a breath, slightly sped up his footsteps to bring himself right behind Clark, and ran the wheat stalk along the side of Clark's neck.

Clark folded with a shriek and a giggle, his smile never fading as he gave Bruce a quizzical look.

That smile was all the invitation Batman needed.

With a smirk, Bruce tackled Clark into the wheat next to them and climbed on top of his chest before frantically twiddling the wheat stem against any potentially ticklish bare skin he could find. Clark's neck, ears, collarbones - even the small patch on his tummy that was exposed from his shirt riding up as they fell - nothing was safe.

And Clark's laughter was like birdsong - it was the most free, happy, genuine giggling Bruce had ever heard. So much so, the billionaire opted to snatch another piece of wheat to use in his free hand against Clark's forearms - which were currently doing fuck-all to fight against the tickly attacks (aside from clinging to and breaking some nearby wheat stems, but Bruce theorised that was mostly for Clark to resist fighting back... cute).

After a sufficient tickling, Bruce paused - mentally checking for any signs of annoyance on Clark's face and letting the man calm down for a few moments.

"Why'd you stop?" Clark asked breathily without missing a beat, and now looking slightly disappointed.

Once again caught aback by Clark's openness, Bruce stuttered and floundered for an answer. "I... I was just... I wanted to... make sure... you..."

Clark laughed. "No need to panic, it was just a question."

Bruce chuckled, still a little embarrassed.

"You always worry so much." Superman smiled, poking Bruce's neck with one of the wheat stalks he had snatched during the tickle-attack to emphasise his point.

Bruce squeaked (though he would later insist this wasn't true), his face flushing a deep red.

"Oh?" Clark grinned menacingly, rolling himself and Bruce over to flip their positions with clearly little-to-no effort. "The dark, scary batman is ticklish too?"

oh god

And, after being thoroughly tickled, Bruce spent the entire time they worked on the farm trying to convince himself the look on his own face before Clark tickled him definitely wasn't nervous excitement, and that he definitely wouldn't give anything do it all again.

Definitely not.

#ticklecrowber2024 #crowstickletober2024 #tickletober2024 #crow's tickle fic #ticklecrowber #i hope this was what you had in mind anon!#I think it's a cute lil fic #so i hope you do too!

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that-1d-blogger · 9 days ago

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I don't wanna write this post, I never want to. I don't wanna talk about how great Liam was, or about the songs he wrote.

Because I don't wanna exist in or believe that there is a world where Liam Payne doesn't exist in present tense.

From assuming that this was gonna be some ordinary boyband, to them becoming the reason my tears turn to my smile, I grew up. Everyone always said that I'd "grow out of this boyband phase" and yet 11 years later, I still get excited when any song comes on the radio, or my shuffle list, or when I hear a very beloved high note in a song.

Hell, I squeal like a child whenever I see glimpses of them at some event , or glimpses of them just living their normal life and doing the most mundane thing.

It doesn't feel real, I saw the news as soon as I woke up, and the next few hours were me wishing that this is a fake article, that it's one of those sick nightmares and I'll wake up to reality, that he's just in critical condition or coma , that he's not dead, that he's not GONE, not like THIS, not NOW. This wasn't meant to happen until I'm in my 60's.

What I always loved about Liam was, how gentle AND strong he was. He stood up for things that were right and was fierce enough to start a fight if he needed to protect himself or his loved ones. He was fierce, yes , but the way that boy loved , oh lord, like he's known you for decades to love and care about you that way, his eyes, I always loved how his eyes crinkled when he smiled big (like in the picture). There are very few people who have both of these.

And I always hated how they slowly started losing that spark in the last few years.

Everyone blamed him for every miniscule thing. First it was about "not being as attractive as the other boys, having basic dark features."

Then about that stupid Logan Paul episode. Everyone knows how influencers and media love to twist things and statements to get clicks and views, Logan Paul being notorious for this. Especially when he was clearly intoxicated. Then people started forgetting about him, and whenever he did show up , he was always targeted

1. Harry dances at Niall's concert, it's cute and supportive, Liam does the same and suddenly he's an attention seeker.

2. When some other member is drunk at an public event, "it's so adorable, he's so piss drunk lollll,". When liam looks intoxicated, "ugh the drug addict is back at it again".

3. He supported Zayn and commented on his post asking him to dm. He got dubbed as a 'desperate fangirl'

or stealing Lou's spotlight at his film premiere when all he did was SHOW UP. and then there were thousands of posts about how everyone hates the jaw fat removal treatment he did.

There were a lot of people like us who loved and supported Liam, yes, but I can't help but think he always got the short end of the stick. Every. Single. Time.

And I in no way will ever blame Maya Henry for his death. Or say that she is wrong for speaking up about her experience with Liam . She has the right to express herself and what she went through. We didn't know Liam personally and we'll never know for sure if these allegations were true.

But I will hate her for dishing out some secrets that were supposed to be just between the boys, just to get views and validation. And that sent another wave of haters to Liam.

I wish he got the help, even in his last moments, when he literally CONVULSED and collapsed in the lobby , clearly intoxicated with drugs, they forced him to go to his room alone , high as fuck, with an open balcony.

I wish the world gave him half the love he gave out to others.

He saved a million lives , but million lives couldn't save one.

Liam, I really wish you did stay exactly where you were, you are perfect.

Mainblog

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weareapackofstrays · 7 months ago

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A New Kind of Love: Chapter V (Final)

Genre: Non-Idol college au, fwb to lovers, angst, romance, drama

Pairing: Minho x F!Reader

Warnings: Oral Sex, Unprotected sex, Cussing. Let me know if I forgot anything! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: 6,519

Summary: Now in your second year of college, you move into the basement apartment of a house full of college boys. Inevitably crossing paths with one of them, Minho quickly gets under your skin in more ways than one. Despite your differences, you can't stay away from him.

Chapter V: About Time Prev

Charlotte: I'm stuck. Does it get easier? Bob: No...Yes, it gets easier. Charlotte: Oh yeah? Look at you. Bob: Thanks...The more you know who you are and what you want, the less you let things upset you. Charlotte: Yeah...I just don't know what I'm supposed to be. You know? I tried being a writer, but I hate what I write and I tried taking pictures, but they’re so mediocre, you know? Every girl goes through a photography phase. You know, like horses? You know? Take, uh, dumb pictures of your feet. Bob: You'll figure that out. I’m not worried about you. Keep writing.

The apartment felt extra lonely tonight. You were huddled on your couch surrounded by comfort snacks and wearing cozy pajamas. It should have been a relaxing evening, but when one of your favorite movies couldn’t help distract you from the past few days, you grew restless. Eventually you turn it off and throw your face into your hands. All you could think about was your earlier exchange with Minho. His words and behavior replaying in your mind on a loop. You keep hurting him, but you don’t mean to. You punch the pillow next to you out of frustration. Why are you like this? There is a burning feeling in your chest that you can’t identify. You try to drink water to wash it away, but nothing works. Your phone buzzes beside you. Momo is calling, but you ignore it. Instead, you grab a sweater and head upstairs to talk to Minho.

You're about to knock on the door, but your hand hesitates and hovers in place. Your feet suddenly feel like sandbags. Chris happens to be walking by the entryway when he sees a figure looming at the door. He opens it to greet you. You stare up at him like a deer caught in the headlights before recovering your composure.

“Hey, Y/n,” the oldest greets you with a warm smile.

“Hey, Chris,” you respond meekly. “I was just wondering if-”

“Do I hear Y/n?” Jisung and Felix pop their heads out from the kitchen.

Jisung runs over and pulls you into a tight hug. “Hey, neighbor! How are you?”

“Fine, really, I’m fine.”

Felix hugs you next and takes hold of your hands. “I swear we didn’t know you and Daniel had history, let alone, that kind of history.” His tone is apologetic.

“Don’t worry about it.” Daniel was honestly the last thing on your mind right now.

“I’m baking some special chocolate chip cookies. Should be ready shortly. Want one?”

“Y-yeah, I'll grab one in a moment. Just need to talk to Minho.” Jisung and Felix exchange a look that you can’t quite read.

��Minho isn’t home right now,” Jisung says, a hint of hesitance in his voice.

“Oh. Where is he?”

Chris clears his throat and you turn to look at him. “He’s still at dance practice. Probably won’t be home for a while,” Chris explains. You nod your head, disappointed. The four of you fall into silence, but are thankfully interrupted by the oven timer going off.

“My cookies!” Felix runs back into the kitchen to take them out. Jisung watches as you do everything to avoid eye contact with him and Chris, shuffling on your feet. The air in the room suddenly feels thick and it’s hard to breathe.

“Y/n?” Jisung puts a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?” Your heart thrums loudly in your ears. The burning in your chest starts to spread across your body.

“Sorry, I need to go. I’ll, um…bye.” You leave the boys standing stunned in the entryway. A familiar image.

Felix walks into the room with a plate full of cookies. “Y/n, here are your-” He looks around and sees you’ve left already. He snaps his finger. “Dammit, why does she keep running out on us every time I offer her baked goods?”

Chris puts an arm around Felix’s shoulder and grabs a cookie. “Maybe she doesn’t like sweets?” Chris says with a mouthful of cookie.

“Nah, I’ve seen her scarf down a bowl full of jelly beans in minutes.” All three boys quickly turn to find Seungmin sitting in the living room, completely surprised by his presence. “She probably just doesn’t like your baking.” Felix gasps.

“How long have you been there?” Chris asks as he chokes back the dessert.

“Long enough.”

Jisung places his hand on Felix, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “Ignore him. He’s probably still salty about last week’s pancake debacle. Your baked goods are amazing.” Felix beams at Jisung’s compliment.

“I told you, it wasn’t my fault!” Seungmin shouts from the couch.

“Keep telling yourself that, babe!” Jisung and Felix walk back into the kitchen while Seungmin stomps off upstairs to pout. Momo rubs her eyes as she passes Seungmin on her way down the stairs.

“Do I smell cookies?” she lets out a yawn.

Chris pulls her into his side and kisses her temple. “Hey, sleepyhead. There’s some in the kitchen. You just missed, Y/n, by the way.”

“What? She was here just now?”

“Yeah. She seemed…off. Thought you should know.” Momo pulls out her phone to check if you called her back or texted her, but doesn’t see anything.

“I’ll try to check on her later. Thanks, Channie.” Momo gives Chris a kiss before joining the boys in the kitchen.

“Hey, Momo!” Jisung greets her cheerily.

“Chris mentioned there were cookies?” she asks innocently.

“Yeah!” Felix hands her the plate of goodies and she happily takes one.

Jisung watches Momo as he considers asking some questions that have been on his mind. “Hey, Momo…Can I ask you something?” he says with hesitance in his voice. She turns her attention to the doe eyed boy. “Do you know anything about what’s going on between Y/n and Minho?”

Momo takes a bite of her cookie and chews on it for a moment. Eventually she shakes her head. “I don’t really know the details. I think we all know by now they are sleeping together, but outside of that…” Momo shrugs. “I believe they have feelings for each other whether they know it or not though.”

“Exactly! That’s what we said. So why do they constantly fight it? I love Y/n, but I think she’s really hurting our boy. I know he seems tough, but inside he’s pretty soft.”

“Y/n doesn’t like to talk about this stuff anymore. Honestly, I think she’s still hurt and doesn’t want to open herself up again. She wasn’t like this before.”

“Before what?” Felix asks curiously.

“Before Daniel cheated.”

“Right…” Felix and Jisung nod, simultaneously understanding.

“I also think her parent’s divorce was really hard on her.” Momo continues. “I’ve never asked about it. Always seemed too painful to, but maybe I should have. I can tell it affects her.” Momo knows she probably shouldn’t divulge your past without your consent, but she feels she needs to explain some of your character. Chris walks into the kitchen to pull Momo away, leaving the two boys to consider her words and what to do.

Minho gets home late that night and immediately takes a shower. Practice was shit and all he wants to do is forget about it. He tries to fall asleep, but instead he spends the night tossing and turning. Minho can’t stand that the two of you have once again gotten into a disagreement.

Eventually, he looks at his phone and sees that it’s almost 4 in the morning. Groaning out of frustration, he forces himself to get up. Minho starts to pace his room, wondering if he should text you or not, but ultimately decides against it. Plus, it’s the middle of the night, he reasons. Minho lays back down in bed and passes out without realizing. He suddenly jolts awake and immediately grabs his phone. It’s already after 8am. He scrolls through his phone and reads over your limited text conversations searching for answers he knows he wont find. Giving up, he decides to go to the gym to sweat out his frustrations. After walking out of the house, he passes by your door on the way to his car. His feet stop as he considers what to do for a moment. Fuck it, he says to himself. He doesn't want to fight anymore. He's too tired. All Minho wants is to hold you until the ice encased around your heart finally melts. Why can't you just let him in?

You awake to hurried knocks. Stumbling out of bed, you throw a sweater on and make your way to the door. “Minho?” You ask groggily, surprised to see him standing there. You look over at your stove and it reads 9:15am. “Why are you here so early?” Instead of answering he pulls you into his arms and hoists your legs around his waist. He shuts the door behind him and walks the two of you into the kitchen. “Minho, what is going on?”

He places you on the counter and kisses you deeply. All animosity between the two of you melting away. What he doesn’t say is how he couldn’t sleep, too busy being kept awake thinking of you. He couldn’t admit that he fought it as long as he could until he grew impatient and had to see you. Minho removes his lips and leans his forehead against yours. He lets out a shaky sigh before speaking. Eyes closed he says, “나는 너를 좋아해” in Korean, but you don’t understand.

“What?” you whisper against his lips as you run your fingers through his soft hair. Instead of answering, he slots himself between your legs pushing his hardened cock into your core. You think he’s going in for a kiss, but instead he hugs you tightly to his chest and rests his face in the crook of your neck. He inhales your scent and leaves a trail of feather light kisses. Chills explode across your skin. He slowly moves his way up your neck to your jawline before hovering above your mouth. Minho finally presses his lips to yours and all questions escape your train of thought. You could ask them another time. You didn’t want to think about the answers anyways. You just wanted to feel his skin on yours. His hands move from your hips and slowly climb up your sides, gently grazing his thumbs over your hardened nipples. You push into his touch as his kiss swallows your sighs.

“Fuck me, Minho,” you beg.

“Not yet.” Minho slips his fingers beneath your panties. “Let me make you feel good,” he whispers into your ear as he circles your clit. You shiver at the way his voice tickles you. He peppers your neck with gentle kisses while his free hand rubs your thigh slowly, squeezing every so often. So many sensations it’s making you dizzy.

“Minho…” you take hold of his wrist to push him inside of you. He starts to pump slowly, curling his fingers with each push. Your other hand grips the back of his neck.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

“Y-yes.” Your breathing picks up as his pace increases.

“Good. I love the way you feel on my fingers. I love knowing how close you are. It’s so hot the way you look when you come apart just from my touch.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess. I think you might be close right now. Hmm?” Your walls start to enclose on him as your orgasm rises within you. You nod your head vigorously as moans spill out your lips.

“I’m gonna…Minho, I’m gonna come!” You pull him closer to your body, arching yourself to make sure his fingers can reach as far as they can and you start grinding against them.

“Let go, baby. I’ve got you. Come for me, my princess.”

You scream his name as you finally release. He continues to push his fingers in and out until you finish. When he slides out of you he looks at his soaked hand and tastes you. “Mmm,” he purrs. Your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink and you cover your face feeling shy for some reason. He pulls your hands down to meet your eyes. The two of you just smile.

Minho lifts you from the counter and carries you into your bedroom. He lays you out on the mattress and climbs over you. When his lips meet yours you get a subtle taste of yourself in his kiss and it makes your middle tighten with need again. Minho pushes his tongue in and licks against yours. It’s not hungry, but slow this time. He’s in no rush. Even as you try to take the usual approach with him, he shushes you soothingly. “Let me take my time with you.” He looks into your eyes pleading and you nod. Minho kisses the tip of your nose then goes back to your lips, intertwining your tongues together. You widen your legs to allow him to fit between you. He slowly grinds into you and you let out quiet moans into his mouth. He’s making you feel so good, so wanted. So lov-…no, you won’t say that word.

Minho pulls away briefly to take his shirt off. You trace the lines on his stomach up to his chest before taking one of his nipples into your mouth. He lets out a heavy sigh, enjoying the sensation of your tongue twirling around him. You gently bite down and he can’t help the way his eyes roll into the back of his head. You bring your lips down his chest and kiss his scar a few times before you look back up at him. He takes hold of your chin. “What baby?” He asks.

“Get on your back. I want to suck you off.” He does as you ask and lays down on your bed. You climb over him and pull off his shorts and boxers. His cock springs up and you take him into your hand. He shivers as you place gentle kisses down his shaft while massaging his perineum.

“Suck on me, baby.” Minho instructs. You grip his base and take him into your mouth. He moans at the sensation and places a firm grip in your hair. You bob up and down his cock enjoying the way his balls tighten under your grip as you pleasure him. “Just like that, baby!” Minho starts to fuck into your mouth, making you gag with each repeated hit to the back of your throat. “You take daddy’s cock so well!” Preening at his compliment, you increase your speed.

Needing a breather, you remove him from your mouth and kittenlick his tip. Minho growls with impatience. “Don’t tease me, princess.” You roll your eyes and continue. “Do that again and see what happens.” His tone is dark and serious, sending a flood of arousal through you. You try to ignore him.

“Wanna make you come, Min,” you say while batting your lashes.

“Not yet. I want to be inside you first.” You squeeze your thighs together at the thought and nod.

“Okay.”

“Sit up.” Minho peels your clothes off and throws them onto the floor, leaving you completely naked before him. He sits back on his ankles and takes a moment to admire you. You look away feeling nervous again under his gaze.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

“Minho…”

“You are.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment and you almost feel like crying. “Come here, baby.” Minho lays you back on the bed as he kisses down your body, inching closer to where you need him most. Pleasure rolls through you from the connection and you start to whine.

“Minho, please, I can’t take it.”

“What do you need, princess? I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I need you inside me.”

“Okay.” He takes his cock in his hand and positions himself above you. Minho slowly pushes in savoring the way your walls envelop him. You watch as his face contorts and his head leans back. You're making him feel good and it turns you on so much.

“Minho,” you whisper. He faces you again.

“Yes, princess?”

“Kiss me.” He leans in for a passionate kiss as he bottoms out inside of you. Minho slowly rolls his hips into you allowing for a gradual climb in pleasure. Your body gives in and you hug him close to you, erasing all space between you. Minho’s thrusts start to quicken as he feels your walls flutter around him. “I’m gonna, come, baby!” You shout.

“Me too. Come with me.” Minho takes hold of your chin to face him. You look into his eyes as you feel yourself start to unravel beneath him, unable to help it when they flutter shut. “Don’t.” Minho begs. “Keep looking at me, princess.” You nod and force your eyes open. Watching each other’s faces shift in euphoria brings you both to the edge and you come together. Minho calls out your name and pulls you into his body. He holds you close as he continues to rock his hips into you until you’re shaking.

“Fuck, I can’t. Minho, it’s too much.”

“Just a little longer, baby.” Minho is still hard and needs to release himself again. The overstimulation starts to shift into pleasure and you feel yourself about to come again.

“Minho!” an unfamiliar high pitched scream leaves your mouth. “I can’t. I can’t hold on much longer.”

Minho growls as he fucks you harder. The slapping of skin growing louder as he pushes you closer to the edge. “Fuck! Y/n. I’m gonna come again.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You repeat as your orgasm hits you more intensely than the first. Minho looks down at where you're both connected and sees your release cover his pubic hair. The sight is enough for him and he comes again inside of you. His second release trickles down your body and onto the sheets. You're both sweating and panting heavily. You wrap your legs around Minho’s waist, not ready for him to pull out so he latches onto your neck while he catches his breath.

“Y/n, I lo-”

You cut him off. “That was amazing.” He smiles and gives you a quick peck, before unwrapping your legs from his waist. He grunts as he pulls out of you and you can feel even more of his sticky come sliding down your body. He lies on his back, resting a hand on your inner thigh.

The two of you lie in your bed basking in the afterglow. As your high deflates you start to think about how different the sex was. It wasn’t the usual hungry romp, it felt like…it felt like he made love to you. This thought shoots your heart into your throat. You sit up suddenly at the revelation, unsure of how you feel. Minho sits up on his elbows, as you look around your room for coverage. You feel completely bare and vulnerable. He watches you nervously.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to shower.” You turn to leave, but his hand catches your wrist. You look back at him.

“Get dinner with me tonight.” It wasn’t a question.

“What?”

“You know, food?”

“I don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand? It’s just dinner.”

“I know, sorry, it’s just we don’t normally do that.”

“Come on, Y/n.” Minho chuckles. He tries to pull you in to hold you. “Get dinner with me tonight, please.” There is a hint of desperation in his tone. His eyes search yours as he silently pleads. Now he feels vulnerable.

You remove your wrist from his grasp and stand back. “Why are you pushing this, Minho?”

He watches you throw your t-shirt over your head and scoffs. “Why are you making this such a big deal, Y/n?”

“Why are you?” You shoot him a glare. Minho crosses his arms and the two of you stare at each other. He finally gives up and rolls his eyes.

“Forget it.” He bends down and starts to get dressed. You can feel your heart race as he finishes. “When you want to stop acting like a child, come find me.”

“You came to my apartment, Minho.”

“Yeah, what a mistake.” He walks past you and your hand reaches out for his arm.

“Minho, wait-“ he ignores you as he heads for your front door. You want to follow after him, but you don’t. You can’t. What is wrong with you? You curse at yourself, not understanding your feelings. He slams the door shut and you realize tears are falling down your cheeks. You angrily wipe your face as you grab a towel and head for the shower. Hopefully, the water will wash these feelings away.

A few hours later you receive a text from Minho asking to meet up for coffee. The message is simple and you can’t help but feel it lacks all emotion. Nerves start to spread through you as you head out to meet with him. When you finally arrive, you find Minho in the back of the cafe looking solemn. He is staring into his coffee mug. You immediately sense something is wrong and your instinct tells you to run, but you push forward.

“Hey,” you whisper, pulling Minho from the depths of his thoughts.

“Hey,” he says back. He gestures for you to sit so you take the seat in front of him.

The two of you sit in silence and you can’t take it anymore so you finally ask, “Is everything okay?” Minho doesn’t answer immediately and you can feel your hands start to shake so you place them in your lap to hide them. Minho closes his eyes and exhales, before he finally faces you. He decides to cut to the chase while he still has the confidence.

“Y/n, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“This sleeping around thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just, it’s not enough for me.”

Furrowing your brows, you try to process what he’s saying. You look down at the table, unable to hold his gaze. “Is there…someone else?” You weren’t expecting that question to make your heart hurt, but it did as the words left your mouth.

“No,” he shakes his head. “No, nothing like that.” Relief washes over you.

“Then why?” you hear a hint of panic in your voice.

Minho reaches across the table and takes hold of your hands in his. He gently squeezes, beckoning you to face him. “Y/n, I like you. No, actually, I think I love you.” He releases your hands and sits back. “I don’t want it to be just sex anymore. I want more than that. I want to date you.” Butterflies flutter around in your chest. You were never expecting a confession from Lee Minho. It takes you aback and you are unsure why you cannot think of a response to him. All you do is stare, wide eyed. “If you don’t feel the same…it’s fine, but it would maybe be best if we don’t see each other for a little while.”

“How long is a little while?” You ask immediately.

Minho scratches the back of his head and thinks for a moment before answering. “I guess as long as it takes for me to get over my feelings for you.” He shrugs. While you still struggle to give him an answer, he gets up from the table. “Just let me know, Y/n.” He drops a few dollars for a tip and heads for the door before you can say anything. Within seconds, he’s gone from your sight. You consider chasing after him, but once again you find you can’t. Instead, you just sit there, frozen, staring at his empty chair and repeating his words in your head. I think I love you.

Feeling like he is carrying the weight of the world inside of his chest, Minho drags his feet as he makes his way back home. Finally in the safety of his room, he turns off all his lights and crawls under the covers. Maybe if he just lays still he will become one with his mattress and disappear like Johnny Depp in A Nightmare on Elm Street, albeit less bloody. Unfortunately for him, though fortunately, his friends would not be letting this happen. A few minutes after Minho had resigned to his fate, he hears footsteps enter the room.

“토끼?” It’s Chris’s voice. Minho doesn’t respond. He feels the bed dip as someone sits. A hand finds his calf and gently squeezes.

“Hyung?” Now Jisung’s voice.

“I don’t want to talk.”

Chris stands beside Minho’s bed near where he assumes his head is. He leans against the wall. “You don’t have to right now. But I do think you need to talk to her.”

“I already did. I broke things off.” Chris and Jisung look at each other in surprise.

“Okay…because she doesn’t like you or?” the eldest asks.

“She didn’t really say anything when I told her.”

“Oh.”

Jisung chimes in, “But she likes you too. I know she does!”

Minho sighs beneath the covers. “I’m not so sure.”

Felix appears out of thin air startling everyone. “Her heart’s been broken. She’s like a stray cat, you need to be patient with her.”

“How much more time can she possibly need? At this point, she either likes me or she doesn’t.”

Jeongin and Seungmin suddenly crowd the doorway “What’s with the party?” Seungmin interrupts.

“Not now, boys.” Chris says sternly, but kindly.

Minho sits up and pulls the covers from his face. “Why is everyone in my room? Can’t a guy sulk in peace?”

“We’re not leaving until you join us downstairs for a movie night.” Chris says.

“Movie night?” Jeongin asks excitedly.

Felix turns to the youngest and nods. “You get to pick the movie this time.”

“Wait, why does he get to pick? I'm the one that’s sad?” Minho shouts.

“Who’s sad?” Changbin now appears behind Jeongin and Seungmin pushing them further into the room.

“Minho hyung is sad.” Seungmin says and Minho groans, throwing the covers over him again.

“What's hyung sad about?” Binnie asks innocently.

“Someone is sad?” Hyunjin appears now wrapping an arm around Binnie’s strong shoulders.

“Y/n doesn’t like Minho so he’s crying alone in his room.”

“Sure, tell everyone my business, Seungmin.” The Minho-shaped lump speaks again.

“Um, I thought I just did.” The young boy shrugs matter of factly. Minho removes the sheets from his face again to shoot a death glare at the boy, but Seungmin ignores it.

“Who’s Y/n?” Hyunjin asks, picking some lint off his sweater.

“Jesus Christ, Hyunjin. Really?” Minho throws his arms up in frustration.

Chris turns to Hyunjin, “Girl downstairs. You’ve met her a few times.”

“Ahhh basement girl that hyung is in love with. Okay, got it. I’m caught up now.”

“Minho hyung is in love with Y/n?” Innie asks. A teasing smile spreads across his face.

Minho places his fingers on the bridge of nose and squeezes. “End me, please.”

Seungmin starts to say something, but Chris anticipates his move and throws him a threatening look. Seungmin retreats behind Binnie for protection while Jeongin snickers.

Chris turns back to look at his oldest kid. “Alright, Minho, you’re getting up and coming downstairs and don’t think we won’t drag you.” He faces the rest of the boys and points. “Seungmin, Changbin. Go grab some snacks from the convenience store.” They both race for the exit pushing each other playfully fighting. Chris turns to the youngest. “Jeongin, go pick a movie.” The maknae heads out of Minho’s room with a skip in his step. Chris shouts out to him before he can get too far, “And not Detective Pikachu again.”

They hear a whine. “Fine! Then it's You've got Mail!” Jeongin calls out from the stairwell.

Chris turns back to Felix. “Are your brownies almost ready?”

“Should be, I’ll go check on them.”

“Jisung, go help Felix.” The boy stands with a salute and heads to leave.

“And what about me?” Hyunjin is still standing near the doorway.

Jisung puts his hand on the tall boy's shoulder. “You just keep looking beautiful, baby.” Hyunjin smiles his famous dumpling smile and follows after Hannie.

Chris holds out his hand to Minho and waits. Minho looks at his friend’s hand for a moment then closes his eyes in pain. “Hyung, I think I actually am in love with her.”

“I know.”

“I didn't mean to catch feelings.”

“We never do, man.” Chris pats his friend on the back.

“She’s so infuriating. We are total opposites and we constantly get under each other’s skin and yet-”

“And yet the moment you saw her, there was no choice.”

“Yeah…”

“Look, you’re going to get it sorted, I know you will. But tonight we’re not going to worry about that. Instead we’re going to go downstairs, cuddle puddle on the couch, and cry over Tom Hanks stalking Meg Ryan.”

“Who’s going to cry?” Minho mimes looking around. “Not me!”

Chris rolls his eyes as he pulls his moody cat to his feet. “You cried at the end of Sleepless in Seattle.”

“The boy waited at the top of the Empire State Building all day for Annie! He was alone! Who wouldn’t cry?!”

“가자” the oldest shoves Minho out of his room and together they make their way downstairs to enjoy movie night.

Meanwhile across campus, you sob into your red vines as the credits of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind ends. Yuqi and Momo stare at you with equally concerned looks.

“Um, are you good, babe?” Momo asks. Yuqi sits up from the couch and grabs the remote to change it to something else.

You sniffle as you shove another red vine in your mouth. “I’m fine.”

“So you’re not good.” Momo shakes her head.

Yuqi gets on the floor and places an arm over your shoulder. “You need to allow yourself to be vulnerable again, babe. You’re allowed to love someone again.”

“Love? You think I love Minho?”

“Is the Nile a river?”

“Yes?”

“Then yes. If you don’t tell him how you feel you’re going to regret it.”

“But it was just sex.”

“It’s never just sex.” Momo says as she rolls her eyes.

“It was supposed to be…”

Yuqi takes hold of your shoulders to face her. “And now you’re both madly in love with each other so what are you going to do about it? Keep pushing him away or love him back for as long as he’ll have you?”

“I’m scared.”

“News flash, we all are.”

“You and Jisung don’t seem scared.”

“Of course I’m scared! I think I may have found the love of my life, but we’re both young, in college and I know not all relationships last after graduation. But I’m also not going to sit and dwell on the potential hurt I may have to endure in the future. I’d rather put my energy into loving him and being with him.” You place your chin on your knees and ponder her words. She wipes a few stray tears from your cheeks. “I’m going to pop some more popcorn and you’re going to put a sickeningly cheesy happy movie on because I cannot sit through this depressing shit again.” You sniffle and nod. Clicking through the options, you finally land on You’ve got Mail.

Yuqi returns from the kitchen and sees your choice for the next movie. “Oh, I love this one!” She excitedly sits next to Momo, looping the girl’s arm with hers. Momo groans and tries to pull away.

Click.

It had been a week since Minho confessed his feelings for you. Unable to give him an answer, Minho takes your silence to mean one thing: Rejection. And not what it really was: Cowardice. After Minho asked for you to keep your distance from him, you took the easy way out and did your best to steer clear. Though it was a little challenging to completely avoid Minho with him living above you and all. However, after another week things start to fall back to how they were before you became friends with your neighbors and everyone was too busy focusing on finals anyway. Whenever you ran into the boys, you often asked them how Minho was, but not wanting to betray him they wouldn't say much. It’s not that the boys were mad at you, they just didn’t really know what to say anymore when they saw you. Outside of Jisung and Felix who still remained friendly, the rest were just polite.

Once finals had concluded, you could feel the levity in the air. The campus buzzed with students leaving their last class of the semester. You knew everyone would be heading home soon for the summer and bile began to rise in your throat as you realized it was now or never if you didn’t want to lose Minho for good. There was a chance the boy wouldn’t forgive you considering you hadn’t spoken in weeks, but you missed him. You missed him so much that you found yourself struggling to make it through each day . You missed feeling the warmth of his arms around you and the heaviness of his gaze on your face. You had grown accustomed to his presence and you knew you had fallen in deep. Finally coming to a decision, you put your metaphorical big girl pants on and dart back to the house. When you arrive, you run into Jisung on the porch.

“Y/n! Hey! Happy end of spring semester.” He flashes his gummy smile.

“Hi, Ji. Is Minho here?”

“Oh…no. He actually just left.”

“Left? Left for where?”

“Home.”

“Home?! Like home, home?”

“Yes?”

You look around in frustration. “How long ago did he leave?”

“Um maybe 15-20 minutes ago for the airport? Y/n, is everything okay?”

“Ji, I have to go.” You leave Jisung in a state of confusion as you head for your car.

“Y/n, he's just leaving for summer break?” Too late, you're already taking off for the parking lot behind the house and don’t hear Jisung calling after you. You punch in the directions to the airport and whip out of the lot like your life depends on it.

The airport is small. Only one flight to the main city and back so luckily it doesn’t take you long to get to the gate, but you run anyway, completely ignoring the stares.

You finally spot him in line for the flight to Philadelphia and shout his name “LEE MIN HO!” Everyone within earshot turns around and looks at you along with the boy you have fallen for. He tilts his head, eyes widening in complete shock and confusion. You run over to him, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

Minho pulls you aside and away from the onlookers. “Y/n, what are you doing here?” He can feel his ears redden.

“You were just going to leave without saying anything?” You say breathlessly, realizing you should probably start working out again.

“Y/n. I’m just going home to visit my parents for the summer.”

Right… Before you lose any courage you blurt out “I like you!”

“Oh…”

“I didn’t want to. I tried so hard not to like you, but I failed.”

Minho drops his hands from your shoulders. “I’m sorry to have been such a nuisance?”

“No, dummy, I’m trying to confess my feelings for you.” Minho makes an “o” face as he comprehends. “You’re doing great, princess. Keep going.” He smirks and signals for you to continue. You throw him a threatening look as he bites his lip to hold back his smile.

You clear your throat as you try to refocus. “I hurt you, Minho. I didn't mean to, but I let my fears get the better of me instead of just trusting you. I know we’re young. I know this could end in tears, but I am going to be brave and not focus on the scary things. I…I want…” Minho looks at you encouragingly as your words catch in your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut trying to swallow back your cowardice.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes fly open and you nearly shout, “I want to date you too!” Minho stifles a giggle at your outburst. “That’s what I should have said back at the cafe. That’s what I wanted to say, but I just couldn’t.”

“It’s okay.” He pulls you into his arms.

“I’m sorry for being so foolish.”

“We were both fools.”

You let out a sigh and wrap your arms around him. “But I have to warn you, once I hold on to someone I don’t let go, so yeah, I guess you’re basically stuck with me.”

“Sounds like a dream,” he says, patting your head.

“Til death do us part then.”

His eyes fly open. “Jesus, Y/n. Why does that sound like a threat?” You laugh teasingly.

He shakes his head and places his forehead on yours. “You’re crazy.”

“You’re normal.”

Minho smiles and whispers into your lips, “I like you.”

“사랑해요” You finally admit to him.

You try to pull Minho into a kiss, but he interrupts the moment. “Sorry, but did you really just run through this tiny airport to confess to me like we’re in a Nora Ephron movie or something?”

“Yes.”

“Ew, that is so lame.” You punch his arm. “Ouch!” He laughs while he holds his arm.

“I take it back.” You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand whipping you back around and into his arms again. He kisses you tenderly and you smile into his mouth as the warmth of his lips close in on you. Minho looks into your eyes seriously this time. “I love you too, princess.” He kisses the tip of your nose and you smile as tears start to pool.

A female voice blasts over the intercom, Last call for flight to Philadelphia. Minho looks over at the attendant checking people in then looks back at you. “That’s my cue.” The two of you embrace one more time before he grabs his bag to leave. You watch as he shows his boarding pass and walks through the gate. Your heart tightens in your chest as the warmth from his touch dissipates.

“Y/n!” Minho shouts suddenly into the crowd. You stand on your tippy toes as his fellow passengers start to block your view. “You complete me!” He makes a heart above his head and laughs.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Your face heats up.

“I love you,” he shouts one last time before disappearing into the tunnel to board his flight. Sitting on the bench, you watch as Minho’s flight eventually takes off. You do your best to stifle the tears threatening to fall. Once the plane is no bigger than an ant in the sky you decide it’s time to head home.

You park your car and climb out to head inside the house. Minho sent you a text just before take off promising to message you once he landed in Philly and eventually in Seoul. Clutching your phone to your chest in anticipation, you make your way to your apartment. Jisung spots you from the window and pops out onto the back deck to call out to you. “Did you get him?”

You give him the biggest smile and nod. “Yeah, I got him.”

“About time.” Jisung rolls his eyes affectionately before giving you a wink and disappearing back into the house. While you have no idea what's going to happen between you and Minho, for once, you are no longer afraid.

FIN.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read my first fic/fic series. I know I have a lot of room for improvement, but I really enjoyed this. Maybe it feels out of left field, but I decided to make the ending cheesy because I had it in my head that the boys are really big rom com fans and our main character is not. Since our MC had been emotionally stunted from her parent’s divorce and previous relationship, I wanted her to make a ridiculous grand gesture because 1. she knows the boys are cheesy romantics and 2. to also finally put her trauma aside and allow herself to love Minho. Slightly going to miss them, even though Y/n was a pain in the ass at times.

MASTERLIST

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