#I never remember how I tagged these things

[elryuse]

불장난 Playing With Fire

Yuna X Male Reader

Tags : Ex Girlfriend Yuna, Teasing, Kissing, Pretty Toxic And Slightly Weird Romance, Fluff, Pregnant? Marriage?

Words : 8,557 Words

You always thought the first time you met Yuna would be burned into your memory forever. The sparkle in her eyes, the way her laugh could fill a room, and how effortlessly she made you feel like the only person in the world. That was before. Before the lies, the heartbreak, and the shattered trust. Now, every memory of her feels distant, like a faded photograph buried in the back of your mind. You’ve tried to move on, to live your life without the weight of her betrayal pressing down on your chest.

But fate has a cruel sense of humor.

It’s an ordinary evening when you see her again. The streets are busy with the hum of traffic, and the golden glow of the setting sun reflects off car windows. You’re standing at the corner, waiting for the light to change, when you catch a flash of fiery red out of the corner of your eye. You glance over, and your heart skips a beat.

It’s her. Yuna.

Only, it’s not the Yuna you remember. Gone is the soft brown hair that used to fall in gentle waves down her shoulders. Now, her hair is a striking, fiery red, cut shorter, framing her face with an edge that screams confidence. Her figure, once curvier, is now more toned and petite, as if she’s carved herself into something entirely new. She’s wearing a leather jacket over a simple black dress, and her boots click sharply against the pavement as she crosses the street.

Your instinct is to look away, to pretend you didn’t see her. After everything that happened, the last thing you want is to reopen old wounds. But then, her eyes meet yours, and you know it’s too late.

“...Y/n?” she says, her voice softer than you expect.

You hesitate, debating whether to respond. “Yuna,” you finally say, your tone neutral, guarded.

Her lips curve into a small smile, but there’s something behind it—something you can’t quite place. “Wow, I didn’t think I’d run into you here,” she says, stepping closer.

You take a step back without meaning to, creating just enough distance to feel like you’re still in control. “It’s a big city,” you reply. “I guess it was bound to happen eventually.”

She tilts her head, studying you like you’re some puzzle she can’t quite figure out. “You look good,” she says, her eyes scanning you briefly. “Different, but… good.”

You resist the urge to scoff. “Thanks,” you say curtly. “You, too. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

She grins, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Yeah, the hair’s new. And I’ve been working out more. Needed a fresh start, you know?”

You nod, though you don’t really know what to say to that. The light changes, and the crowd around you begins to move. You take a step toward the crosswalk, hoping she’ll take the hint and let you go.

“Y/n, wait,” she says, reaching out to lightly touch your arm. The contact sends a jolt through you, and you pull back instinctively. Her smile falters for a moment, but she recovers quickly. “Can we talk? Just for a minute?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say firmly. “There’s nothing left to talk about.”

“Come on,” she says, her voice almost pleading. “It’s been, what, a year? Can’t we just… I don’t know, catch up? As friends?”

Friends. The word feels bitter on your tongue. You shake your head. “We were never just friends, Yuna. You know that.”

Her expression softens, and for a moment, she looks like the Yuna you used to know—the one who could make you smile no matter how bad your day had been. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “For everything. I know I screwed up, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I miss you, Y/n. I miss us.”

You feel your chest tighten, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. “You don’t get to say that,” you say, your voice low but firm. “You don’t get to miss us when you were the one who destroyed it.”

She flinches, and for a brief moment, you think you see tears glistening in her eyes. But then she straightens, her fiery hair catching the last rays of sunlight. “You’re right,” she says, her voice steadier now. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’ve changed, Y/n. I’m not the same person I was back then.”

You want to believe her. A part of you—some small, foolish part—still wants to believe that the girl you fell in love with is still in there somewhere. But you can’t forget the pain she caused, the way she broke your heart and left you to pick up the pieces on your own.

“I’m glad you’ve changed,” you say finally. “But that doesn’t change what happened. And it doesn’t mean we can go back to the way things were.”

She nods slowly, her eyes dropping to the ground. “I get it,” she says. “I just… I just wanted to see you. To tell you I’m sorry.”

The sincerity in her voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. Finally, you sigh and take a step back. “Take care of yourself, Yuna.”

With that, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there on the sidewalk. As you disappear into the crowd, you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the last time you’ll see her.

And deep down, you’re not sure if that thought scares you—or excites you.

The knock on your door is sudden, sharp, and entirely unexpected. You freeze mid-sip of your morning coffee, the sound cutting through the quiet hum of your apartment like a knife. Three rapid raps, followed by silence. Your eyes dart to the clock on the wall—it’s barely 8 AM. Who the hell could that be?

Setting your mug down cautiously, you make your way to the door, peeking through the peephole before opening it. And there she is: Yuna.

Your ex-girlfriend. The woman who shattered your heart into a thousand irreparable pieces years ago. She stands there, radiant as ever, her fiery red hair catching the sunlight, her lips curved into that familiar smirk that used to make your stomach flip. Now, all it does is twist into knots.

“Hey,” she says casually, as if it’s totally normal for her to show up at your doorstep after all this time. “Long time no see.”

You blink, stunned into silence. Of all the people you thought might show up unannounced at your door this early in the morning, Yuna was not on the list. “What are you doing here?” you finally manage, your voice more curt than you intended.

She shrugs, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe like she owns the place. “I live next door now. Figured I’d come say hi.” Her tone is light, almost playful, but there’s something in her eyes—something burning, intense, calculated. It makes your skin prickle.

“You live… next door?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly. This has to be some kind of joke. Or a nightmare. Either way, you don’t like it.

“Mhm,” she hums, nodding. She steps past you into your apartment without waiting for an invitation, her floral perfume lingering in the air as she moves. It’s the same scent she always wore when you were together, and it hits you like a punch to the gut. “Saw your name on the mailbox the other day. Small world, huh?”

“Small world, my ass,” you mutter under your breath, closing the door behind her reluctantly. “This isn’t a coincidence, Yuna. What are you really doing here?”

She turns to face you, her expression softening as she takes a step closer. “I told you. I’m your neighbor now. And… maybe I wanted to see you. Is that so bad?”

You cross your arms tightly over your chest, creating a barrier between the two of you. “Yeah, actually. It is. We haven’t spoken in years. Not since—” You cut yourself off, the memory of what she did still raw, even after all this time.

Her smile falters, and for a moment, she looks genuinely remorseful. “I know, Y/n. I know I hurt you. I was stupid, selfish, and I regretted it the second it happened. You have no idea how much I’ve beat myself up over it.”

“Not enough, apparently,” you snap, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “If you had any respect for me, you wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

She flinches at that, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. But then she squares her shoulders and meets your gaze head-on. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. But the truth is, I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. And I know you probably hate me, and maybe you should, but… I needed to try. To see if there’s any chance we could start over.”

You stare at her, your mind racing. Start over? After everything? She can’t possibly be serious. And yet, the look in her eyes tells you she is. Dead serious.

“Yuna,” you say slowly, picking your words carefully. “We’re not the same people we were back then. And even if we were, what you did… that’s not something you just ‘start over’ from.”

She nods, swallowing hard. “I know. And I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight. But… can we at least try to be civil? As neighbors? Maybe even… friends?”

The word hangs in the air between you, heavy with implications. Friends. Yeah, right. Friends don’t do what she did. Friends don’t destroy trust the way she did. And yet, looking at her now, with her wide, pleading eyes and perfectly pouty lips, it’s hard to stay mad. Harder than you want to admit.

“I don’t know, Yuna,” you say finally, sighing. “This is… a lot.”

“I get it,” she says quickly. “And I’ll give you all the space you need. But just… promise me you’ll think about it, okay? Think about us.”

Before you can respond, she steps forward, closing the distance between you. For a second, you think she’s going to kiss you—and part of you wants her to, despite everything. But instead, she simply brushes her fingers lightly against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

Then she’s gone, slipping out the door as quickly as she came, leaving you standing there, confused, annoyed, and—damn it—curious.

Over the next few days, Yuna becomes impossible to ignore. Every time you leave your apartment, she’s there, whether it’s in the hallway, by the elevator, or even at the gym. She’s always polite, always friendly, but there’s an underlying tension that neither of you acknowledges. A tension that grows thicker with each passing day.

Tonight, though, she crosses a line.

You’re in the middle of cooking dinner when she knocks on your door again, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a coy smile on her face. “Hi,” she says sweetly. “Thought you might want some company tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow, holding the spatula in your hand like a weapon. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” she replies, pushing past you into the kitchen. “Smells amazing, by the way. What are we having?”

“Steak,” you say automatically before catching yourself. “Wait, no. I’m having steak. You’re interrupting my dinner.”

She grins, setting the wine bottle on the counter and grabbing a corkscrew from the drawer like she belongs here. “Oh, come on. You can’t eat all that by yourself. Besides, we need to talk.”

“About what?” you ask warily, watching as she expertly uncorks the bottle and pours two glasses.

She hands you one, her fingers brushing against yours in a way that feels far too intentional. “About us. About… what happens next.”

You take a sip of the wine, mostly to buy yourself time to think. “There is no ‘us,’ Yuna. Not anymore.”

She leans against the counter, her body language relaxed but her eyes intense. “That’s where you’re wrong. There’s always been an ‘us.’ Even when we weren’t together, even when I screwed everything up… there was always something between us. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words stick in your throat because… god damn it, she’s right. There is something between you. Something electric, magnetic, undeniable. And it’s been there from the moment she showed up at your door.

But you can’t let her know that. Not yet.

Instead, you set your wine glass down and turn back to the stove, flipping the steak with more force than necessary. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Yuna.”

She laughs softly, the sound low and sultry. “Maybe. But you’ve always liked danger, remember?”

Your grip tightens on the spatula. Remember? How could you forget? She’s reminding you on purpose, and it’s working. Memories flood your mind—her hands on your skin, her lips on yours, the way she used to whisper your name in the dark.

“Dinner’s ready,” you say abruptly, plating the steak and handing her a plate. If nothing else, maybe eating will shut her up.

But as the two of you sit down at the table, the tension only grows thicker. Every glance, every brush of skin, every shared laugh sends sparks flying. By the time you finish eating, the air between you is charged, crackling with unspoken desire.

“Thanks for dinner,” Yuna says, standing up and moving closer to you. “It was… delicious.”

She’s not talking about the food, and you both know it.

You stand too, your heart pounding in your chest as she reaches out, her fingertips grazing your jawline. “Yuna,” you warn, your voice husky.

“Yes?” she whispers, her lips dangerously close to yours.

“Don’t—”

But before you can finish, she closes the gap, her mouth crashing into yours like a tidal wave.

And just like that, you’re lost.

Her lips are warm, insistent, and achingly familiar. The moment she kisses you, a flood of memories rushes back—late nights tangled in sheets, whispered promises, the way her body fit perfectly against yours. But this isn’t that time. This is now, and despite everything, your body betrays you. Your hands instinctively move to her waist, pulling her closer as if they have a mind of their own.

Yuna deepens the kiss, her tongue brushing against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm. A soft moan escapes her throat, muffled by the heat of your mouths colliding. Her fingers weave through your hair, tugging gently but firmly, sending a shiver down your spine. She pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, her breath hot and uneven, “I’ve missed you.”

The words hang in the air like a confession, raw and unfiltered. You want to push her away, to remind yourself of why you shouldn’t be doing this, but her touch is magnetic, her presence intoxicating. Your resolve wavers, crumbling under the weight of her longing.

Her hands slide down your chest, fingertips tracing the contours of your muscles through your shirt. They pause at the hem, slipping beneath the fabric, skin meeting skin for the first time in what feels like forever. Her touch ignites something deep within you, a hunger you thought you’d buried long ago.

“Yuna,” you murmur, your voice rough with desire, “this isn’t—”

She silences you with another kiss, harder this time, more desperate. Her nails dig lightly into your sides, leaving tingling trails in their wake. When she finally breaks away, her eyes lock onto yours, blazing with something you can’t quite place—need, remorse, or maybe both. “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you,” she breathes, her voice trembling with emotion.

Before you can respond, she sinks to her knees, her hands moving to the button of your jeans. Your heart pounds in your chest, the sound deafening in the quiet room. This is wrong, a small voice in the back of your mind whispers, but it’s drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears and the way her fingers work deftly to free you from the confines of your clothing.

Her breath hitches as she takes you in, her gaze lingering for a moment before she leans forward, her lips brushing against the tip of you. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through your body, your hips jerking involuntarily. She smirks up at you, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Still sensitive, huh?” she teases, her voice low and husky.

You don’t have time to respond before she takes you fully into her mouth, her tongue swirling around your length with practiced ease. A groan escapes your lips, your hands tangling in her hair as she moves with a rhythm that leaves you dizzy. Her name falls from your lips like a prayer, barely audible over the sound of her sucking you deeper, harder.

She pulls back momentarily, looking up at you through hooded lids. “Do you remember how much you used to love this?” she asks, her voice dripping with sultry anticipation. Before you can answer, she’s swallowing you again, her lips pressing tightly around you as she works her way down your shaft.

Your knees buckle slightly, the sensation overwhelming. Her hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as she bobs her head, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The wet sounds fill the room, mingling with her soft sighs and your ragged breaths. It’s messy, desperate, and utterly consuming.

As her pace quickens, so does the ache building in your core. You’re close, too close, and the realization makes your grip on her hair tighten. “Yuna, I—”

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down. Instead, she hums around you, the vibrations making your entire body shudder. Her eyes meet yours again, and there’s a challenge in them, daring you to let go. And you do, unable to hold back any longer.

With a strangled groan, you release, her name tumbling from your lips as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. She takes it all, her tongue lapping at you greedily until you’re completely spent, your legs trembling beneath you.

When she finally pulls away, there’s a hint of mischief in her smile, along with something softer, more vulnerable. She stands slowly, her hands resting lightly on your hips as she looks up at you. “You always did taste so good,” she murmurs, her voice thick with satisfaction.

You’re still catching your breath, your mind reeling from what just happened. There’s a part of you that wants to pull her into your arms, to feel her warmth against you. But there’s also a part that feels conflicted, torn between the past and the present, between what you feel and what you know you should do.

Yuna seems to sense your hesitation. She steps closer, her body pressing against yours, her lips brushing against your neck. “I meant what I said,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I’ve missed you. More than you could ever know.”

You swallow hard, your hands hovering at her sides, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer. “Yuna".

She leans back just enough to meet your gaze, her eyes searching yours. “Don’t think too much about it,” she says softly. “Just… let me make you feel good. Like I used to.”

Her hands slide up your chest, pushing your shirt off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Her touch is gentle, almost reverent, as she traces the lines of your body. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” she admits, her voice filled with awe.

Before you can respond, she’s leading you toward the couch, her movements confident yet tender. She pushes you down gently, then straddles your lap, her thighs squeezing your hips as she leans in to kiss you again. Her lips are softer this time, more deliberate, as if she’s savoring every second.

You find your hands moving without conscious thought, gripping her waist, sliding up her back, exploring every inch of her. She lets out a soft sigh, arching into your touch, her body molding against yours like it was made to fit there.

“Tell me you want this,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice trembling with need. “Tell me you want me.”

Your heart races, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. But when her hand slips between your bodies, her fingers brushing against the growing heat between her legs, your resolve crumbles completely.

You can’t find the words to respond. Not when her body is pressed so tightly against yours, not when her hand is moving with such purpose, igniting a fire deep within you that you swore had been extinguished long ago. Instead, you let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping her hips as if holding onto them will keep you from losing yourself completely.

Yuna doesn’t wait for an answer. She doesn’t need one. The way your body responds to her touch—the way you instinctively pull her closer—tells her everything she needs to know. Her lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses that make your head spin. Each kiss is deliberate, each move calculated to unravel you further.

Her fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, brushing against the sensitive skin of your stomach. You gasp, your grip tightening on her as she lets out a soft laugh against your collarbone. There it is, you think. That sound. That laugh. It’s been so long since you’ve heard it, but it still hits you like a punch to the chest, knocking the air out of your lungs and making your heart ache in ways you don’t want to acknowledge.

“Stop thinking,” Yuna murmurs, her voice low and husky. “Just feel.”

It’s easier said than done. Your mind is racing, torn between the past and the present, between anger and desire. But then her hand slips lower, her fingers wrapping around you, and all thoughts evaporate into nothingness. A moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, and Yuna smirks against your skin, clearly pleased with herself.

“That’s more like it,” she says, her breath hot against your ear. “Let me remind you what you’ve been missing.”

Before you can respond, she’s sinking to her knees in front of you, her hands working quickly to free you from the confines of your clothes. You barely have time to process what’s happening before her mouth is on you, warm and wet and impossible to resist. Your head falls back, a strangled groan escaping your throat as her tongue swirls around you, teasing and taunting in equal measure.

God, you’ve missed this. Missed her. The way she knows exactly how to drive you wild, the way she takes you apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left but raw, unfiltered sensation. Her mouth moves expertly, drawing you deeper, her hand working in tandem to heighten every touch. You can feel the pressure building, threatening to consume you, and you force yourself to hold back, not wanting this to end too soon.

But Yuna isn’t having it. She pulls away just enough to look up at you, her eyes dark with desire. “Let go,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breathing. “I want to hear you.”

And then she’s taking you in again, her movements faster, more urgent. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you, but it’s no use. You’re powerless against her, against the way she makes you feel. Your hips buck involuntarily, and Yuna makes a soft noise of approval, encouraging you to keep going.

The tension coils tighter and tighter until you can’t take it anymore. With a cry, you come undone, your body shuddering as waves of ecstasy crash over you. Yuna doesn’t pull away, not even when you’re spent and trembling, your legs barely able to support you. Instead, she stays where she is, her lips pressing gently against your skin as if savoring the moment.

When she finally stands, there’s a look of pure satisfaction on her face. “Welcome back,” she says softly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I was starting to think I’d lost my touch.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though your mind is still reeling. “You haven’t lost anything,” you admit, your voice hoarse. “If anything, you’ve gotten better.”

Yuna grins, clearly pleased with your admission. “Practice makes perfect,” she teases, stepping closer to press a kiss to your lips. You taste yourself on her, and it only serves to deepen the ache inside you, the need for more.

She pulls away slowly, her hands trailing down your chest as she steps back. “Now it’s your turn,” she says, her voice dripping with promise. “Don’t worry—I’ll guide you.”

You’re about to ask what she means when she turns and walks toward your bedroom, her hips swaying with every step. The sight alone is enough to make your pulse quicken, and you follow after her without hesitation, your earlier reservations forgotten.

The room is dimly lit, the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains. Yuna stops at the foot of the bed, turning to face you with a look that sends a shiver down your spine. Slowly, she begins to undress, each movement deliberate, each inch of skin revealed making your mouth go dry.

When she’s fully naked, she reaches for your hand, pulling you closer until you’re standing right in front of her. “Touch me,” she whispers, her voice trembling with anticipation. “Show me you remember how.”

Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for her, your fingers skimming over her bare skin. She sighs, leaning into your touch as you explore the curves and valleys of her body, rediscovering every part of her that once felt like home. Her breath hitches when your fingers brush over her nipples, and she arches into your touch, silently urging you to continue.

You lower your head, capturing one taut peak between your lips, and she gasps, her hands tangling in your hair. Her scent surrounds you, heady and intoxicating, and you’re desperate for more. Your tongue flicks against her, eliciting another sharp intake of breath, and you can feel her pulse quickening beneath your fingertips.

“Y/n,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please…”

You know what she wants. What she needs. And you’re more than willing to give it to her.

As if on cue, the opening notes of your favorite song drift through the speakers in the corner of the room. The melody is soft and slow, filling the space with a quiet intimacy that makes the moment feel even more significant somehow. Yuna’s eyes meet yours, and there’s something in her gaze—something tender and vulnerable—that catches you off guard.

“This song,” she says, her voice shaking slightly. “It reminds me of us. Of who we used to be.”

Used to be. The words echo in your mind, stirring memories you’d tried so hard to forget. Late-night drives, stolen kisses, whispered promises of forever. All of it comes rushing back, overwhelming you with emotions you thought you’d buried long ago.

Yuna seems to sense the shift in your mood because she reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently. “We’re not those people anymore,” she admits, her voice heavy with regret. “But maybe… maybe we can be something better.”

You don’t respond—you can’t. Not when your heart feels like it’s being torn in two. But then she’s guiding you toward the bed, her touch firm yet gentle, and all you can do is follow.

The sheets are cool against your skin as you lie down, your bodies pressed together in a tangle of limbs and heat. Yuna’s lips find yours again, her kiss slow and languid, as if she’s trying to convey everything she can’t put into words. And for the first time since she walked back into your life, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—she’s right.

Yuna’s fingers trail down your chest, her touch light but deliberate, sending shivers through your body. She pauses at the hem of her shirt, her gaze locking with yours as if silently asking for permission. You nod, barely able to form a coherent thought, and she pulls the fabric over her head, revealing herself to you in the soft glow of the bedroom.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur, your voice thick with desire.

She smiles, a gentle curve of her lips that makes your heart ache. “Touch me,” she whispers, guiding your hands to her waist. Her skin is warm beneath your palms, smooth and inviting, and you feel the faint tremor of her breath as you slide your hands upward.

Her breasts fit perfectly in your hands, soft yet firm, and you thumb over her nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips. She arches into your touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she opens them again, their intensity burning into you.

“Don’t stop,” she breathes, her voice trembling with need.

You don’t. You can’t. Every part of you is drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, and you lose yourself in the sensation of her skin against yours. Your fingers trace the curves of her body, exploring every inch of her with a reverent touch, as if committing her to memory all over again.

Her hands move to the waistband of your pants, her fingers deftly unbuttoning them and sliding them down your legs. The cool air brushes against your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating from her body. She straddles you, her thighs pressing against your hips, and you can feel the wetness between her legs as she grinds against you.

“God, I missed this,” she moans, her head tipping back as she rocks her hips against yours. “I missed you.”

You grip her hips, guiding her movements as your own arousal builds. Her breath comes in short, shallow bursts, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she loses herself in the rhythm. Her hands grip your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin just enough to leave marks, and the sting only adds to the fire coursing through your veins.

“Yuna,” you groan, your voice rough with desperation. “I need you.”

She leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. “Then take me,” she murmurs against your mouth. “Take me like you used to.”

Her words ignite something primal within you, and you flip her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head. She lets out a surprised laugh, quickly replaced by a low moan as you press yourself against her, your length teasing her entrance.

“Are you sure?” you ask, your voice strained with restraint.

She nods, her eyes dark with desire. “Please,” she begs, her hips lifting to meet yours. “I need you inside me.”

You don’t need any more encouragement. With a slow, steady thrust, you enter her, both of you groaning in unison at the sensation. She’s tight, her walls clenching around you as if trying to pull you deeper, and you savor the feeling of being inside her once again.

Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as you begin to move. Each thrust is deliberate, measured, designed to draw out the pleasure for both of you. Her fingers tangle in your hair, tugging gently as she gasps your name, her voice echoing in the quiet room.

“Faster,” she urges, her nails scraping down your back. “Harder.”

You oblige, increasing your pace as her pleas grow more desperate. Her hips buck against yours, meeting each thrust with equal fervor, and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air. Her breaths come in short, ragged gasps, her body tightening around you as she teeters on the edge of release.

“Y/N… Y/N, I’m close,” she whimpers, her voice breaking as she clings to you. “Don’t stop—please don’t stop.”

You bury your face in the crook of her neck, your lips brushing against her skin as you whisper, “Let go, Yuna. I’ve got you.”

Her climax hits her hard, her body convulsing around you as she cries out your name. The sensation sends you over the edge, and with a final, powerful thrust, you spill yourself inside her, your vision blurring as waves of pleasure crash over you.

For several moments, neither of you moves, content to simply bask in the afterglow. Her fingers stroke your back, her touch tender and soothing, and you press a soft kiss to her shoulder before finally pulling away.

She looks up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Do you remember the first time we did this?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” you reply, your hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “How could I forget?”

She smiles, though there’s a sadness in her expression that makes your chest tighten. “I wish things were different,” she says softly. “I wish I hadn’t hurt you.”

“We can’t change the past,” you tell her, your fingers tracing the line of her jaw. “But maybe… maybe we can start over.”

Her eyes widen, hope flickering in their depths. “Do you mean that?”

Before you can answer, she kisses you again, her lips pouring everything she can’t say into the gesture. And as you kiss her back, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is the second chance you’ve both been waiting

The kiss deepens, her fingers tangling in your hair as if she's afraid to let you go. You can feel her trembling beneath you, a mix of hope, longing, and fear coursing through her. When you finally pull away, your foreheads rest together, your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.

"I mean it," you say softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "But if we're going to start over, things have to be different, Yuna. No secrets, no lies. We need to be honest with each other-completely."

She nods quickly, her eyes searching yours as if trying to commit every detail to memory. "I promise," she whispers. "I'll do whatever it takes to make this work, Y/n. I've lost you once, and I'm not going to make the same mistake again."

Her words tug at something deep inside you, a flicker of the love you once shared beginning to reignite. But there's still a part of you that's wary, a part that remembers the pain of betrayal and the sleepless nights spent wondering what you did wrong.

"Starting over doesn't mean forgetting," you say, your tone firm but gentle. "We both need to face what happened before we can move forward. Do you understand that?"

"I do," she says, her voice steady despite the tears welling in her eyes. "And I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious. I'll earn back your trust, Y/n, no matter how long it takes."

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of the past hangs heavy between you, but so does the possibility of something new, something better.

"Alright," you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "Let's try."

The relief that washes over her is palpable, and she throws her arms around you, holding you close as if you might slip away at any moment. "Thank you," she murmurs against your chest. "Thank you for giving me another chance."

As you hold her, you can't help but wonder if you've made the right decision. The road ahead won't be easy-rebuilding what you had will take time, patience, and an unshakable commitment from both of you. But as you feel her heart beating against yours, you realize that some risks are worth taking.

Later that night, as the two of you lie tangled together in the sheets, Yuna's head resting on your chest, she traces lav patterns on your skin with her fingertips.

"Do you ever think about the future?" she asks softly, her voice laced with a vulnerability that catches you off guard.

"Sometimes," you admit. "Why?"

She shifts slightly, propping herself up on one elbow so she can look at you. "Because I want you to be in mine," she says, her eyes shimmering with sincerity. "I know it's too soon to say things like that, but. I need you to know how I feel. You're not just a second chance for me, Y/n. You're my only chance."

Her words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you're left speechless. But as you look into her eyes, you realize that despite everything, a part of you still loves her-still wants to believe that the two of you can build something beautiful together.

Taking her hand in yours, you press a kiss to her palm and meet her gaze. "If we're going to do this, we take it one step at a time," you say. "No rushing, no expectations. Just us, figuring things out as we go."

She smiles, a genuine, radiant smile that makes your heart ache in the best possible way. "I can live with that," she says.

And as you lie there together, the shadows of the past slowly fading into the background, you can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope—for the first time in a long time, the future doesn’t seem so uncertain after all.

The soft rays of morning sunlight stream through the curtains, painting the room in a gentle golden hue. You stretch, feeling the pleasant soreness from the night before, and glance down at Yuna, who is still curled up against you. Her fiery red hair is a mess, splayed out across the pillow, and her lips are slightly parted as she breathes softly in her sleep.

You chuckle to yourself. She looks so peaceful, almost like the Yuna you first fell in love with—before everything became complicated. Not wanting to wake her, you gently untangle yourself from her grasp and slip out of bed.

Padding to the kitchen, you open the fridge and rummage through its contents. Eggs, cheese, a few vegetables—simple but enough for a decent breakfast. As you crack the eggs into a bowl and whisk them, you can’t help but smile at the thought of her reaction.

The smell of sizzling butter and the aroma of freshly scrambled eggs mixed with melted cheese begins to fill the apartment. You chop some green onions and sprinkle them over the eggs, adding a touch of color. The satisfying sizzle echoes through the quiet space, and before long, the scent has spread to every corner of the room.

Behind you, you hear a sleepy groan, followed by the soft rustling of sheets.

“Mm… what’s that smell?” Yuna’s groggy voice floats through the air.

You glance over your shoulder to see her sitting up in bed, her hair adorably disheveled and her eyes still half-closed. She rubs at them lazily before focusing on you, a small smile spreading across her face as she watches you at the stove.

“You’re up early,” she says, her voice teasing. “And cooking? What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” you reply, flipping the eggs onto a plate. “Just thought you might be hungry when you woke up.”

She grins, propping herself up on her elbows. “You’re full of surprises, Y/n. I don’t remember you cooking much before. In fact…” She pauses, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Didn’t your cooking use to suck?”

You snort, shaking your head as you grab a couple of plates and start plating the food. “I’ve improved, believe it or not. You’d be surprised what a person can learn when they’re fending for themselves.”

“Well,” she says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up, “I guess I’ll be the judge of that.”

As she approaches the kitchen, still dressed in your oversized shirt from the night before, she leans against the counter, watching you with a playful smirk. You hand her a plate, and she raises an eyebrow as she inspects the food.

“Eggs, cheese, green onions… simple but promising,” she says, lifting a fork.

You roll your eyes. “Just eat, critic.”

She takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Her expression shifts, and for a moment, you can’t tell if she’s impressed or just messing with you.

“Well?” you ask, leaning against the counter opposite her.

She swallows, placing the fork down dramatically before breaking into a grin. “Not bad, chef. Not bad at all. I’d give it a solid eight out of ten.”

“Eight?” you repeat, feigning offense. “What’s keeping me from a ten?”

She tilts her head, pretending to think. “Maybe it’s missing… love?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

She grins, her eyes sparkling as she takes another bite. “But seriously, Y/n, this is good. I guess you really have changed.”

Her words carry more weight than you expect, and for a moment, the playful atmosphere gives way to something deeper. She looks up at you, her expression softening.

“You’ve grown a lot,” she says quietly. “I can see it in the way you carry yourself, the way you take care of things. It’s… inspiring.”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at her words, but you shrug it off casually. “Well, I had to grow up eventually.”

Yuna reaches across the counter, her fingers brushing against yours. “I’m glad I get to see this version of you,” she says softly.

You meet her gaze, and for a moment, the world narrows down to just the two of you. The past, the present, and the uncertain future all blur together, leaving only the fragile connection you’re trying to rebuild.

“Let’s just take it one day at a time,” you say, your voice steady.

She nods, her smile warm and genuine. “One day at a time.”

And as the morning sunlight fills the room, you realize that, for the first time in a long time, the day ahead doesn’t feel so daunting.

The decision to give Yuna another chance weighs heavily on your mind, like standing at the edge of a precipice. You’re fully aware of what’s at stake—your heart, your trust, and maybe even your peace of mind. But something about her feels different this time. Or maybe it’s the part of you that never stopped loving her, hoping against hope that this time, things might be different.

The two of you start slow, agreeing to rebuild your relationship step by step. Date nights become a regular thing—dinners, quiet walks in the park, or just staying in and watching movies together. Each moment feels like a cautious dance, balancing hope and fear, love and doubt.

One evening, you’re sitting on the couch with her, a bowl of popcorn between you and an old rom-com playing on the screen. Yuna leans against your shoulder, her hand resting lightly on your thigh. It’s a quiet, domestic moment, but your thoughts are anything but calm.

“Y/n,” she says softly, her voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“Yeah?” you reply, glancing down at her.

She hesitates, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Do you… still think about it? What I did?”

Her question hangs in the air, heavy and unavoidable. You let out a slow breath, your eyes drifting to the TV but not really seeing it.

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. “I think about it sometimes. It’s hard not to.”

She pulls away slightly, just enough to look at you. Her eyes are filled with guilt and fear, and you can see the words she wants to say but can’t quite bring herself to voice.

“But I’m trying,” you continue, meeting her gaze. “I’m trying to let go of the past. To focus on what we have now.”

Her hand tightens on your leg, and she leans into you again, her face pressed against your shoulder. “I don’t deserve this,” she whispers. “I don’t deserve you.”

You wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer. “Maybe not,” you say lightly, trying to ease the tension. “But I’m giving you a chance anyway. So don’t mess it up.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, but you can feel the tension in her body start to ease. “I won’t,” she promises. “I swear, Y/n. I won’t mess this up.”

The days turn into weeks, and you begin to notice the subtle changes in Yuna. She’s more thoughtful now, more attentive. She goes out of her way to show you how much she cares, whether it’s through small gestures like cooking your favorite meals or leaving little notes for you to find throughout the day.

But there are still moments when doubt creeps in—when you catch her staring off into the distance with a troubled look or when a conversation reminds you of the cracks that once broke your relationship apart.

One night, as you’re lying in bed together, you decide to confront it head-on.

“Yuna,” you say, your voice cutting through the quiet.

She turns to face you, her eyes wide and questioning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, then pause. “Actually… I just need to ask you something.”

She nods, sitting up slightly. “What is it?”

“Why now?” you ask, your voice steady but laced with curiosity. “Why come back now, after everything?”

She takes a deep breath, her hands twisting nervously in the sheets. “Because I realized how stupid I was,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I let go of the best thing that ever happened to me, and for what? A fleeting moment of… I don’t even know what. I hated myself for hurting you, Y/n. I still do. But when I saw you again, I thought… maybe this is my chance to make it right.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, raw and unfiltered. You can see the pain in her eyes, the regret that she carries with her every day.

“I can’t promise I’ll forget,” you say, your voice soft but firm. “But I’m willing to try. As long as you’re willing to put in the effort, too.”

She nods quickly, tears brimming in her eyes. “I am. I’ll do whatever it takes, Y/n. I’ll prove to you that I’m worth it.”

You reach out, cupping her face in your hands. “You don’t have to prove anything, Yuna. Just… be honest with me. Be real. That’s all I want.”

“I will,” she whispers, leaning into your touch.

As the weeks pass, you find yourself slowly letting your guard down, piece by piece. It’s not easy—trust is fragile, and the scars of the past don’t fade overnight. But with each shared laugh, each tender moment, and each promise kept, you begin to believe that maybe, just maybe, you and Yuna can make this work.

But deep down, you know you’re playing with fire. One wrong move, one misstep, and it could all come crashing down.

And yet, as you lie beside her, her head resting on your chest and her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, you can’t help but think that some risks are worth taking.

For now, you’ll take it one day at a time.

The day feels surreal, the kind of quiet that makes you question how you got here. Yuna is by your side, her arms wrapped around yours as you both walk the short distance from her apartment to yours, carrying the last of her belongings.

She giggles, the sound light and musical, and leans her head against your shoulder. "It feels strange, doesn’t it?" she says, her voice filled with warmth. "Moving in together after all this time… like we’ve come full circle."

You glance at her, your emotions a tangled web. Her hair is back to the soft brown shade you once adored, framing her face in a way that makes her look like the girl you fell for all those years ago. But she’s not the same, and neither are you. The ghosts of the past linger, no matter how much effort you both put into rebuilding what was broken.

“Yeah,” you reply softly, your grip tightening slightly on the bag you’re carrying. “It’s… strange.”

Reaching your apartment, you set the bags down by the door. Yuna takes a step inside, looking around with a contented smile. She turns to you, her arms outstretched, and pulls you into a hug.

“You’ve made this place feel like home,” she murmurs, her cheek pressed against your chest.

You hesitate for a moment before wrapping your arms around her, the familiar scent of her shampoo flooding your senses. “It’s home because you’re here now,” you say, the words sounding both true and heavy.

She pulls back slightly, her eyes sparkling with emotion. “I never thought I’d get this chance, Y/n. To be with you again. To… to have a family with you.”

Her hands move to her stomach, and she caresses it gently, the motion so tender it tugs at something deep within you. Your eyes follow the gesture, and for a moment, the reality of it all washes over you like a tidal wave.

A family. A future. With her.

Your gaze shifts to the wedding ring on her finger—a symbol of the promises you made, the commitment you’re trying so hard to uphold. It feels heavy, like a chain and a lifeline all at once.

Yuna notices your silence and tilts her head, her smile soft but questioning. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say after a beat, forcing a small smile. “Just… thinking about everything. About us.”

She steps closer, her hands resting on your chest as she gazes up at you. “I know it hasn’t been easy,” she says quietly. “And I know I hurt you before. But I swear, Y/n, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. To us.”

Her words are earnest, filled with a love that feels overwhelming in its intensity. You nod, though the knot in your chest remains. “I know you will.”

She smiles again, her joy infectious as she intertwines her fingers with yours. “Let’s make dinner together tonight,” she suggests, her tone light. “You can show off those cooking skills of yours again.”

You chuckle despite yourself. “Only if you promise not to criticize too much.”

“No promises,” she teases, leaning up to kiss your cheek.

As the two of you begin unpacking her belongings, the room fills with her laughter and the faint sound of music playing in the background. She moves with a lightness you haven’t seen in years, and for a brief moment, you allow yourself to believe in the happiness you’re building together.

But as you watch her carefully place a photo of the two of you on the shelf—a relic from the early days of your love—you can’t shake the mixed feelings swirling in your chest.

You want this to work. You need it to work. But the scars of the past don’t fade so easily, and the weight of what you’re risking—your heart, your trust, your future—hangs heavily in the air.

Still, when Yuna looks at you with that radiant smile, her hand resting protectively over the life you’ve created together, you can’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, you can make it work.

For now, that’s enough.

[honeyhae-svt]

Hello i saw your wonwoo's headcanon when he falls for someone, can u do the same but for Shua pls? Thanks 🫶🏼

joshua's headcanon when he falls for someone (you)

joshua hong x gn!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ tags / genre: joshua x reader, seventeen fanfiction, slow burn romance, heartfelt confession, mutual pining, slice of life, fluff, soft romance, emotional connection, tender moments, reader insert ੈ✩‧₊˚ warnings: n/a (just lots of sweetness, soft feelings, and a lot of kisses. mwuahhh) ੈ✩‧₊˚ wc: 3124 (124-ilyyy) ੈ♡ a/n: 2/13 ! like i said, i will be making one for every member, but if you request it, i'll start on it asap. thankyou anon for requesting ! also maximize that volume of yours and play pretty u rn ! a pretty song for a pretty man whose name is joshua. he's honestly such a darling, i'd melt for him. ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Pretty U (Seventeen) ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

ੈ♡˚ ༘ joshua's headcanon when he falls for someone

when joshua falls for someone, it’s like the warmth of sunlight gently breaking through a cloudy day—subtle but undeniable. he’s the kind of person whose love manifests through his kindness and thoughtfulness, making you feel special without overwhelming you.

joshua has a knack for noticing what makes you happy, and he’s quick to incorporate those little things into his actions. whether it’s remembering how you like your coffee, recommending a song he thinks you’ll love, or bringing you something that reminded him of you, his affection is all about showing how much he pays attention. he’s naturally charming, but when it comes to you, his charm has an extra layer of softness, like he’s trying to make sure you always feel comfortable around him.

in group settings, he’ll make an effort to ensure you feel included, casually steering conversations to your interests or gently teasing you in a way that draws you closer. he doesn’t overdo it; it’s all in the way he lingers just a little longer when you speak, or how his laugh sounds a bit more genuine when it’s you making the joke.

when joshua is in love, he has a way of balancing sweetness with calm confidence. he won’t rush things; instead, he lets his feelings unfold naturally. he’s patient, preferring to let the connection build over time, but that doesn’t mean he’s passive. you’ll find him initiating small, meaningful moments—asking to walk you home, offering to help with something even when he doesn’t have to, or just sitting with you in silence when words aren’t needed.

joshua is a firm believer in communication, but he might hold back on fully confessing until he’s sure the timing is right. he’s a romantic at heart, so when he does tell you how he feels, it’s with thought and intention. maybe it’s under the stars, or during a quiet moment when it’s just the two of you, and he says something like, “i wasn’t sure how to say this, but you’ve been on my mind more than you realize.”

when joshua is jealous, it’s quiet and understated—he’s not one to get possessive, but he can’t help the subtle furrow of his brows or the way he stands a little closer to you. he’s protective in a gentle, non-obtrusive way, always making sure you know he’s there for you without needing to draw attention to it.

with joshua, falling in love feels safe and warm, like coming home after a long day. he’s the type to remind you that love doesn’t have to be loud to be real—it’s in the small, consistent moments, the quiet support, and the way he makes you feel cherished without even trying. when he loves you, it’s steady and sincere, like he’s found something in you he’s never going to let go of.

it was late. joshua sat at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea that he’d barely touched. the light above cast a soft golden glow, and though the room was calm, his heart wasn’t.

you were sitting across from him, cross-legged on the chair, scrolling through your phone with an occasional laugh escaping your lips. joshua glanced at you, the corners of his mouth lifting in a fond smile before he quickly looked away, hoping you wouldn’t catch him. it was becoming a habit lately—watching you when you weren’t looking, soaking in the way your presence made the world feel a little brighter.

“josh,” you called, pulling him from his thoughts. “what’s with that smile? did i miss something funny?”

he blinked, startled, and laughed softly, shaking his head. “nothing. just thinking.”

“thinking about what?” you pressed, leaning forward, your curious eyes meeting his.

he hesitated, swirling the tea in his mug as if the answer lay at the bottom. how was he supposed to explain what he was thinking? that the way your nose crinkled when you laughed made his chest feel too tight? or that the way you casually said his name felt like the softest melody?

“just stuff,” he finally replied, his voice gentle but evasive.

you narrowed your eyes at him, unconvinced. “that’s vague, even for you.”

joshua chuckled, setting the mug down. he loved how you weren’t afraid to call him out, how you always pushed for more when you knew he wasn’t being entirely honest. “alright, you caught me,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. “i was thinking about you.”

the way your eyes widened and a faint blush dusted your cheeks made his stomach flip. it was a bold thing to say, and he wasn’t even sure where he’d found the courage. but once the words were out, he didn’t regret them.

“me?” you asked, your voice softer now.

he nodded, his gaze steady but warm. “yeah. you’ve been on my mind a lot lately.” he paused, watching the way you fiddled with the hem of your sleeve, the way you looked down as if trying to hide your own smile. “i don’t know how to say this without sounding cheesy, but… i think i like you. a lot more than i should.”

your head shot up at his words, eyes wide with surprise. for a moment, joshua worried he’d misread things, that maybe the connection he felt wasn’t mutual. but then, slowly, you smiled—a soft, shy smile that made his heart race.

“you’re not the only one who’s been thinking about someone,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

his breath caught. “really?”

you nodded, your fingers nervously tapping the table. “i didn’t know how to bring it up, but… i like you too, joshua. probably more than i should.”

the tension in his chest eased, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief and happiness. he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. “well, that’s a relief,” he said with a small laugh. “i was starting to think i’d have to spend another hour working up the courage to say something.”

you laughed too, your fingers curling around his. “guess i saved you the trouble.”

the two of you sat there, hands intertwined, a quiet warmth settling between you. for joshua, it wasn’t the moment he confessed that stood out the most—it was this. the way you looked at him, the way your hand fit perfectly in his, and the way the silence felt full instead of empty.

in that moment, he realized love wasn’t something that needed to be rushed or dramatized. sometimes, it was as simple as sitting across from someone who made your world feel a little less lonely, and knowing they felt the same way.

ੈ♡˚ ༘ kisses and cuddles with joshua

joshua is naturally gentle and thoughtful when it comes to physical affection. he’s the type to wait until the moment feels just right, never rushing or forcing anything. he thrives in the little things—the brush of your fingers, the way your shoulder leans against his, or the quiet moments when your laughter makes him smile without meaning to.

one evening, you’re both sitting on the floor in his apartment, surrounded by half-empty mugs of tea and a mess of polaroids and postcards spread out in front of you. the soft hum of a playlist fills the space, his voice occasionally cutting through as he shares stories behind each photo.

you catch him watching you as you laugh at a particularly ridiculous story, his gaze lingering longer than usual. joshua isn’t one to overthink, but there’s something about the way you look so at ease—like you belong in every corner of his life—that makes his chest ache in the best way.

he doesn’t realize how close you’ve shifted until your knee brushes against his, and even then, he doesn’t move away. instead, his hand moves almost instinctively, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of one of the photos near your leg. it’s subtle, but you feel it: the shift in the air, the quiet closeness that doesn’t need words.

"what?" you ask, raising a brow when you notice his silence.

"nothing," he replies, a small smile tugging at his lips. but the way he says it—the soft timbre of his voice—makes you feel like it’s everything.

ੈ♡˚ ༘ the first kiss the first kiss happens when neither of you expects it, but it feels so natural that it doesn’t catch you off guard.

you’re walking together late at night, bundled up against the chill. the city is quiet, with only the occasional glow of streetlights and the crunch of snow under your feet. he’s telling you about something—his words soft and warm like the scarf wrapped around your neck.

when you stop to admire the way the snow glitters under the lamplight, he pauses too, standing just behind you. joshua doesn’t rush to fill the silence. instead, he watches as your breath fogs in the air, your head tilted slightly upward.

he doesn’t think about it too much—he’s not the type to overanalyze. he simply steps closer, his fingers brushing yours before he turns you gently toward him. the way he looks at you is enough to make your heart stutter, his eyes carrying that quiet, unspoken affection he’s always held just below the surface.

when he leans in, it’s slow, as if he’s giving you every chance to stop him. but you don’t. his lips meet yours softly, a tentative but deliberate press, warm against the cold of the night. it’s the kind of kiss that lingers long after it ends, the kind that makes you forget about the cold entirely.

when he pulls back, there’s a faint pink dusting his cheeks, though whether it’s from the cold or the moment, you’re not sure. “sorry,” he murmurs, though the smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrays him.

"don’t be," you reply, and he laughs softly, his breath visible in the winter air.

ੈ♡˚ ༘ cuddles with joshua cuddling with joshua feels like wrapping yourself in a blanket of warmth and quiet reassurance. he’s not overly clingy, but he has this way of making every touch feel intentional and meaningful.

it starts small—like when you’re sitting together on the couch, his arm draped casually along the back. as time goes on, he’ll pull you closer, until you’re tucked against his side, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm. he’s the type to hum quietly or ask about your day, his voice low and soothing.

on lazy mornings, you’ll find him lying on his back, one arm stretched out as if waiting for you to crawl into the space beside him. when you do, he’ll pull you closer, his hand resting against the small of your back. his touch is gentle, never hurried, as if he has all the time in the world to savor the moment.

sometimes, when he’s particularly tired or in need of comfort himself, he’ll rest his head on your shoulder, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. he doesn’t say much during these moments, but the way he holds you speaks volumes.

his favorite way to cuddle, though, is lying side by side, your head resting on his chest. he’ll absentmindedly run his fingers through your hair or along your back, his breathing steady and calming. every now and then, he’ll press a soft kiss to your forehead, murmuring something sweet that makes your heart flutter.

with joshua, cuddling isn’t just about the physical closeness—it’s about the quiet, unspoken connection you share. it’s in the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in his world, and in the way his presence alone makes you feel at home.

┊ ➶ ｡✩‧₊˚ bonus joshua kisses with intention. everything he does has this thoughtful, deliberate quality to it, like he's not just kissing you—he’s showing you how much he cherishes you. his kisses are gentle yet firm, the kind that leave you feeling warm and safe, like you’re the only person in his world.

the first time he kisses you, it’s under the soft glow of the streetlights. you’re walking home together after a late-night outing, your laughter fading into the quiet hum of the night. joshua’s been stealing glances at you all evening, his usual soft smile lingering just a little longer than usual.

as you stop to admire the night sky, he hesitates for a moment, his hands tucked into his pockets. he stands a little closer to you than necessary, and when you turn to face him, there’s a flicker of nervousness in his gaze.

“you know…” he begins, his voice softer than usual, “i’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

before you can even ask what he means, he steps closer, one hand gently brushing your cheek. his touch is featherlight, and the way his fingers curl around your jaw feels so tender that your heart skips a beat.

when his lips finally meet yours, it’s like the whole world quiets. the kiss is soft and slow, his lips moving against yours with the kind of care that feels almost reverent. it’s not about passion or urgency—it’s about the unspoken feelings he’s been carrying for so long.

as the kiss deepens, his other hand moves to your waist, pulling you just a little closer. his touch is steady, grounding you, as if he’s afraid to let go. you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the way his lips linger just long enough to leave you breathless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that,” he murmurs against your lips, his forehead resting gently against yours. his eyes are soft, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks, but there’s a hint of mischief in his smile. “and now that i have… i don’t think i’ll ever stop.”

from then on, joshua’s kisses become a quiet yet powerful expression of his affection.

on lazy afternoons, he’ll tilt your chin up with a finger, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. when you’re feeling down, he kisses your forehead first, his lips lingering there before pulling you into a soft, lingering kiss that somehow makes everything feel okay again.

but when the moment calls for it—when it’s just the two of you, tucked away from the world—his kisses take on a new intensity.

one evening, you’re curled up together on the couch, a movie playing in the background that neither of you are paying attention to. joshua’s arm is draped over your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair. you’re mid-sentence when he leans in, cutting you off with a kiss that catches you completely off guard.

this kiss is deeper, hungrier, but still carries that same sense of care that only joshua can give. his lips move against yours with an unspoken urgency, his hands gently cupping your face as if to keep you close. his thumb brushes against your cheek, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he’s savoring every second.

when he pulls back, his breathing is a little uneven, his cheeks flushed. his lips curve into a small, bashful smile as he gazes at you, his eyes filled with nothing but love.

“sorry,” he says softly, though there’s no regret in his tone. “i just… couldn’t help myself.”

and you can’t help but smile back, because with joshua, every kiss feels like a quiet confession of how deeply he cares for you.

⊹˚. what exactly are you to joshua?

to joshua, you’re not just a person—you're the person. the one who brightens his world effortlessly with your presence. you’re his muse, his source of quiet inspiration, and the reason he finds himself smiling even on the toughest days. to him, you’re someone who feels like home—comforting, warm, and safe, yet exciting in all the ways he didn’t realize he needed.

⊹˚. how joshua falls for you

joshua’s feelings for you come like a melody—soft, sweet, and so natural that he almost doesn’t notice it at first. it starts with the way you make him laugh, the way your eyes light up when you’re talking about something you love, and the way you get him without him needing to explain.

for joshua, falling for you isn’t an “aha” moment. it’s a collection of little things: the way you remember his favorite coffee order, the way you unconsciously hum while doing something, or the way you’re always genuinely kind to others.

he’s the kind of person who falls in love through shared moments—a late-night conversation under the stars, a quiet coffee date on a rainy day, or even just a random moment when he looks at you and thinks, "how did I get so lucky?"

example: one evening, as the two of you are walking home together after an impromptu late-night dessert run, you laugh at something he says, your voice echoing in the quiet night. joshua glances at you, the way your hair catches the moonlight, the crinkle of your eyes when you smile. that’s the moment he realizes: this is it. this is where I want to be—by your side.

when joshua confesses, it’ll be thoughtful and heartfelt, but never overwhelming. he doesn’t want to pressure you; he just wants you to know. maybe it’s after a casual hangout, when he walks you to your door and lingers a little longer than usual.

"i’ve been meaning to tell you something," he starts, his voice soft but steady. "i don’t know when it happened, but… you’ve become really important to me. like, more than just a friend. and i just thought you should know."

(ㅅ´ ˘ )♡ when joshua loves, it’s like a warm embrace—a constant presence that makes you feel cherished and appreciated. he’s attentive, always noticing the little things about you, and finding ways to make your life easier or happier.

he’s the kind of person who’ll send you random texts throughout the day, just to check in or make you smile. "hey, i heard this song, and it made me think of you. listen to it when you have a minute." or "don’t forget to eat something today, okay?"

he loves in ways that feel thoughtful and intentional—remembering your favorite flower and surprising you with it, or noticing when you’re stressed and planning a relaxing day for the two of you.

like when you’ve had a rough day, and you find him waiting at your doorstep with your favorite snacks and a playlist he made just for you.

and when you’re with him, you feel it in the way he looks at you—soft, tender, like you’re the only thing that matters in that moment. his love is steady and unwavering, a kind of comfort that feels like it was meant just for you.

his hand always seems to find yours, even in the smallest moments, as if it’s a silent promise that he’s there for you, no matter what. and when he kisses you, it’s soft but full of meaning, like he’s pouring everything he can’t say into that one moment.

joshua’s love feels like coming home, every single time.

ੈ♡ a/n: do check out the wonwoo version over here ! the next few updates will happen if there's a request on it ^^ if you want to know whether there would be any updates, just check out my seventeen masterlist and go to the headcanon section and there you will see which members has this "headcanon when he falls for someone (you)". thankyou and ilysm <3

[starrygazers]

home, or what's left of it.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ I'M IN MY MYDEI WRITING GROOVE (procrastinating on my programming assignment). Also, the food used here is based on Golden Honeycakes, one of the oldest delicacies in Amphoreus history, which was once a favorite high-end dessert among the nobility. (according to the HSR wiki) also he made an ad for this? that's so cute

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : comfort, fluff

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : Mydei; minor spoilers for 3.0

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The brutish man ducks his head to slip inside the small entryway. He makes no sound, but his demanding presence in the middle of the establishment is not easy to miss.

You meet his eyes, cloth in hand. Giving him a small smile, you look away and continue wiping the tables. "Normal people say hello, you know?"

Mydei huffs, his hands crossed in front of his chest. The chilly night air of Okhema doesn't seem to bother him, as he's dressed like he normally is. Flashy, royal; befitting of a Crown Prince.

"Take a seat," you motion to the table nearest to the counter. You've put away most of the chairs, as the clock nears midnight, but saved a single one in hopes of your esteemed guest's visit.

He positions himself on the appointed seat, watching you take ingredients out from behind the counter to start cooking.

Mydei is no stranger to being away from home; that's how he'd spent most of his childhood, anyway. Fighting for his life at sea, dying in the hands of giant waves, starvation, or beasts. Even in Kremnos, he never experienced a good night's sleep. It was a kill or be killed world, and immortality doesn't take that away from him; they just have to kill him again and again until he stays dead.

And home was not something to miss, not after what happened. Not after his god fell from glory, dooming his people, and he was forced to make a choice between dying (again and again) for mortals or reign as a deity. So, he chose pain, because that is what's destined for the King who never got his throne.

Home is so far, and he doesn't want to go back.

And yet,

"Here you go!"

You place a plate of Golden Honeycake, topped with fresh fruits and dripping with honey, just like how Mydei likes it.

Home is far, and he doesn't want to go back, but he remembers the same aroma. Of the cooks taking pity in him and introducing him to the sweet delicacy. Of stories in the past by his mother who teased him for having the same taste in sweets as his father and all the kings before him.

He gives you a curt nod, a sign of thanks. You beam at him, watching intently as he takes a tentative bite. It tastes like home.

He takes another bite. Then another, and another, until the plate is a fresh clean slate. You chuckle, picking up the plate.

"You know, most people consider it rude to barge in on closing time," you tease him.

"I didn't mean to disrupt your business."

"You act like you don't drop by here every night, ordering the same thing," you laugh again, and he find himself liking the sound of it. He wants you to laugh again. "You must really like it, huh?"

He chooses not to answer, but he doesn't shake his head either.

You disappear behind the counter to wash the last plate, and he stands in the middle of your restaurant awkwardly.

"Is there ... anything I can help with?" he asks sheepishly.

You stare at him, clearly surprised, before clearing your throat. "Oh, um, you can put the chair away. Please, if you don't mind."

Mydei nods, picking up the wooden chair with ease as if he were handling a feather. At the sight, you allowed yourself a joke, "Closing would be a breeze if you worked here."

The Prince looks away, seeing your apron tucked under one of the shelves, letting his mind wander about a universe where the battles he fought were less gruesome. Where he could patch his wounds and value his only life. Where he would go home, and he'd be proud to call it that.

But in this world, all he had were the scars and the baths.

"You make good Golden Honeycake," he says. "It reminds me of the ones they used to make back in Castrum Kremnos."

Mydei swears he can see the sparkle in your eyes when you stare at him in awe, and thought they rivaled the sight of the night sky of all of Amphoreus.

Then your lips break into a smile, and Mydei's cold, inhumane, non-existent heart melts like the butter on the honeycake.

"I'll have you know that compliments won't suffice as payment," you grin, though a hint of bashfulness is evident in your voice.

"Put it on my tab." the Prince turns away from you, hiding his own embarrassment as he walks to the exit.

"If you had one, it'd be longer than my grocery list," you joke again. "How about this; you come back tomorrow?"

Mydei looks back to you, reads the hope written on your expression easily, and lets out a sigh.

"Yeah, expect me to bother you again tomorrow."

Home is maybe not too far away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©2025 starrygazers. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ if you liked this, consider buying me a ko-fi! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Just a little bit

In Ho x reader [Smut]

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

This is a post inspired by @457gf X link (provided below, it looks just like it would on 457gf’s profile) Please remember to be logged on X (twitter) for the link to work. Thank youuuu.

Hwang “Just the tip” In Ho

Takes place during season 1.

You were late. Late to wake up, late to work, late. He’s gonna kill me you thought. You knew your boss would definitely be the one to shoot you down. He’d be glad to. You said your prayers and walked out your door, struggling to pull your hood over your head correctly.

You were a square mask. Utmost respect, important, you were gonna die today. You knew you. Cold sweats as you walked towards your post. Another square mask turned his head towards you before looking back and straight ahead.

“Come see me in my office. Now.” The Front Man said.

“Yes sir” you spoke, standing and following him to his office. He was angry, you could hear it in each authoritative step he took. He stood in front of you.

“Remove your mask” you bowed and removed it. (Y/n) (l/n)”

“Yes sir. ID code: 001456457” you stated.

“I didn’t ask for your ID code, idiot.” He spat harshly.

“Why were you late?”

“Sir, I was kept up late by the workers being rambunctious” you said. “Workers 014 and 026 kept making noise and horsing around, I had to attend to them sir. As duty manager 001, I am bound to report them and keep them in line”

“I’m aware of what your job entails as 001, I created the job of 001” he said calmly. “(L/n), do you know why you’re placed as manager 001?”

“No sir” you shook your head.

“Because you’re pretty.” He spoke. “Because the closer you are to me, the easier it is for me to get my hands on you and no one care to ask, because you’re so high up, they know you could kill them and get away with it”

“Thank you sir” you bowed.

“No need for thanks. Drop the act. Let’s speak as humans not as boss and worker” he said. “Look at the food chain, (y/n), CEO are my bosses, I am your boss, you are the boss of soldiers and workers. When you mess up, they act up. You cannot be late”

“Are you going to kill me?” You blurt. In Hos eyes widened.

“No, I’m going to torture you in a way you’ve never imagined.” He said, looked at you through the eyes of the mask. You felt his gaze. “Strip” he ordered.

“Sir?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself” he said with warning. You set your mask in the pocket, removing your shiesty (the ski mask thing they wear). The sound of your zipper echoed through the silent room. Your pink suit dropped to the floor. Revealing a small lazy bra and a matching thong.

His cock aches for you. In Ho told himself this was justified. Worse than killing you, sexual torment. No release. He was a predator and you were his prey. He was going to destroy you inside out till you were convinced it was love and you needed him.

“Turn around.” He gave another order. “You tell anyone what you saw and what we dis in here today and really will kill you, (l/n)”

“Yes sir”

The Front man removed his mask, a handsome face hit behind that cold steel mask. He wasn’t handsome he was

“Beautiful” you said aloud. “You’re beautiful” the corner of his lip curled into a smile before disappearing. No longer visible, now all that was there was the same serious expression. How could an angel be so serious? You thought. He pushed you onto his bed. Undoing his clothes he stood bare in front of you. Abs shining as the sun peeked through the tall windows, a golden light cast upon him.

“Spread your legs.” You nodded, spreading them. “I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of this (y/n) and afterwords, you’ll be wanting more but sent away to your quarters feeling empty” he declared to you. Trailing the tip of his erect cock down the front of your thong.

You let out a soft whimper as In Ho's cock made contact with your clit, only thing between true satisfaction was your thin lace. He started rubbing gently, the friction building between you, your wetness exceeding out of your pussy and past your thong. Low grunts rumbled from his throat as he moved against you, each motion eliciting more whimpers from you.

You watched helplessly as he fucked you. The string of your thong separating him cock from entering you, but you dripping arousal getting his cock wet.

As you continued, your breathing synchronized, heavy and labored. In Ho's movements became more urgent, his grunts deeper and closer together. Your whimpers turned into moans now - "oh god" escaping your lips over and over.

You couldn’t ever tell what you were so turned on by… the fact that he was using you to please himself but not satisfying you, or the way he sounded and looked at you as he did.

In Ho finally reached climax, cumming on your thong in hot spurts that left him shuddering with pleasure and relief. Your pussy, though covered, was white. Your groaned in frustration, clawing at him at he departed from you.

“You have no place with me in this moment. Get dressed and return to your post. I don’t want to see you until the end of the day for clock out.” He said getting dressed.

“Yes sir, thank you, sir” you dressed as quickly as you could. Trying to get out of his overwhelming presence. Before you could finish walking past him, he gripped your forearm tightly.

“Be late again, and next time, I can assure you, I will not be so kind. Do yourself a favor though, (y/n), take pride in your mistake. It got you a ticket to be put on my radar as if I haven’t imagined you bent over my desk. I was just being a gentleman” he let go of you and you scurried off.

He watched you as you did. Smirking like he’s completed something. You’re going to mess up again. That look of desperation said everything he needed to know. You planned on fucking up, just to get back to him. He wanted to destroy you. But he did fall in love with your beauty, just a little bit.

[heartsriki]

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY ⌇ 우리를

pairing ᝰ ni-ki x fem!reader — featuring.. sunghoon | word count: 5.7k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ childhood friends, tease ni-ki, middle school to highschool au, cussing, angst if you use a magnifying glass, fluff, kissing, underage drinking, miscommunication.

synopsis — Ever since middle school, Nishimura Riki has been an absolute pain. Now at your senior year of high school, things get complicated when confused feelings start to rise.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊I am here to represent the playful over nonchalant riki agenda 🤓☝️I wanted this to give shitty 2000's romance movie did I succeed? (this is so ass but I haven't posted a pic in a while so muah, creative fics coming soon trust)

If there was one universal truth in your life, it was this: you hated Nishimura Riki.

Childhood best friends? The kind you see in movies, laughing over dumb jokes, sharing secrets under a blanket fort, or being there for each other no matter what? Yeah, that wasn’t you and Riki. Not even close.

Your history with him began the summer before middle school, a day you remembered all too clearly.

“Who’s moving in, Mom?” you asked, watching the moving truck parked outside the empty house next door.

She glanced over as she set down a stack of plates. “A family with a boy about your age,” she replied, patting your head. “Maybe you’ll make a new friend! Why don’t you go say hi?”

You wrinkled your nose, stepping back from the window. “I wish it was a girl.”

Mom sighed and gave you that knowing look as she moved around the kitchen. “You never know. Your dad and I were childhood friends once.”

“Gross,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “That’s so weird.”

And just like that, you moved on with your life, assuming the new boy next door was unimportant. After all, families came and went in your neighborhood. You didn’t expect him to stick around—or to matter.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The first day of middle school was supposed to be a fresh start. You had plans. Big plans. Make friends, fit in, and survive until High School. And for a moment, it seemed like everything would go smoothly. Until him.

Lunch was going fine. You grabbed your tray, scanning the cafeteria for a place to sit when you collided with someone. Hard.

Your lunch went flying, splattering all over you, and in your panic, you looked up, ready to apologize. But then you noticed he was perfectly fine—completely untouched—like the universe had gone out of its way to humiliate only you.

You glanced at his name tag. Nishimura Riki.

He crouched to help, concern etched across his face. “Are you okay—”

Before he could finish, a blinding camera flash went off, followed by whispers and giggles erupting all around you. Mortified, you bolted to the nearest bathroom.

You thought that would be the end of it, but Riki wasn’t done ruining your life. Far from it.

In gym class? He always aimed for you during dodgeball. At lunch? He somehow snagged the last banana milk every time. Clubs? Teachers practically begged him to join while you couldn’t even get a recommendation. Worst of all, everyone adored him. Everyone but you.

By the end of your first year, Nishimura Riki was your sworn enemy.

And then things got… complicated.

It happened one evening while you were studying in your room. A soft knock at the door interrupted your focus.

“Come in,” you called, expecting your mom.

She stepped inside with two glasses of water. “Remember the tutoring favor I mentioned? My friend’s son is here in need of help, Be nice, okay?”

“Sure,” you replied, not thinking much of it.

But when the door creaked open again, you froze.

“Not who you were expecting?” Riki grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You crossed your arms. “What are you doing here Riki?”

Riki winced. “Tutoring obviously, and could you please just call me ni-ki like everyone else?”

“You’re not coming in,” you snapped, blocking the doorway.

He sighed dramatically. “And what would I tell your mom?” He bent slightly to meet your glare, his grin widening when you finally moved aside.

“Fine. Sit down,” you muttered, plopping back at your desk.

For the next hour, you worked in tense silence. Or tried to, anyway. Riki kept fidgeting, pulling out a folded piece of paper halfway through.

“What’s that?” you asked, snatching it before he could stop you.

“Hey!” he yelped, scrambling to grab it back.

It didn’t take long to figure out what it was: another love letter. You rolled your eyes and tossed it back at him. “Veryyyy humble.”

“Not my fault I’m handsome, but it really is annoying though, I'm constantly surrounded… sometimes I feel like I'm drowning” he muttered, leaning back on his hands.

You were thrown off by his sincerity but you ignored him until he suddenly perked up as if struck by divine inspiration.

“Wait,” he said, sitting up straighter. “I have an idea.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s never good.”

“Let’s be friends, like attached to the hip friends.”

You blinked. “What?”

He grinned. “Think about it. You don’t have anyone covering your back at school, and I need someone to scare off all the girls who keep following me around. It’s perfect.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hard pass.”

“Come on, at least think about it!” he whined.

Unfortunately, he didn’t leave you much of a choice. Day by day, Riki wormed his way into your life, showing up at your house, sticking by you at school, and, somehow, turning everyone’s attention to you.

It was annoying. It was infuriating. But, worst of all? It worked.

Fast forward to your senior year of high school, and here you were—still stuck with Nishimura Riki. And somehow, despite your ups and downs, things weren’t going to be quite so simple anymore.

You were buried in your assignments, your usual library spot surrounded by a fortress of papers, highlighters, and books. It was your sanctuary, a place where Riki always knew he could find you.

He wasn’t alone when he spotted you this time. A couple of his friends hung around, laughing about something entirely unimportant in his mind the second his eyes landed on you. His grin stretched wide, and with an exaggerated sigh, he excused himself. The girls groaned, rolling their eyes at his now-predictable antics. “You’re obsessed, ni-ki,” one of them muttered, but he didn’t care.

Jogging up to your table, he glanced at your mess of notes and books. You didn’t even look up. Of course.

“What is it, Riki?” you murmured, still scribbling, your tone bored, uninterested—classic.

“Would it kill you to talk to me lovingly every once in a while, Y/N?” he mocked, flopping into the chair across from you. His eyes darted to the pile of folded papers shoved to the side, and his eyebrows shot up. “Oh? What’s this? Love letters? These for me again?”

You finally glanced up, leveling him with that deadpan expression he swore you saved just for him. “They’re definitely not mine,” you replied flatly.

He gasped, hand over his chest like you’d shot him. “Poor baby. Jealous much?” he teased, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Of you? Hardly.”

Riki narrowed his eyes at you, suddenly curious. Now that he thought about it, he’d never actually seen you with anyone—no rumors, no dates, no shy confessions. And while you always rolled your eyes whenever he brought up girls in front of you, you never chimed in about any guy in your life. Suspicious.

“Y/N,” he started, his tone a little too casual as he began doodling nonsense shapes on the table. “When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Well, you remember Choi—”

“Choi Soobin? That lasted, what, a week?” he scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“And why do you think that is, genius?” you shot back, pointing your pencil at him accusingly.

Riki faltered for a split second before looking away. “Well… I think you can do so much better than him,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

Your brow shot up, amused. “Oh? Alright then, Mr. Matchmaker. Who’s my ‘better match,’ huh?”

His mouth opened, then shut. For once, he didn’t have a quick answer. He gulped, scrambling to save face. “How about I… set you up?”

You laughed, leaning back in your chair. “With one of your fuckboy friends? No thanks.”

“Hey! Not them!” he laughed, hands up in defense. “I meant someone like… Sunghoon.”

That made you pause. “Sunghoon? Like tall, calm, cool, and basically perfect Sunghoon? Yeah, right. He wouldn’t go on a date with me in a million years.”

“What? Says who?” Riki shot back, standing up like he’d just been challenged to a duel. “I’ll talk to him. Watch and learn, Y/N. Watch and learn.”

“Riki—”

“Later! Don’t miss me too much” He winked and walked off, leaving you to roll your eyes at his retreating figure, wondering if he’d actually follow through or if this was just another one of his ridiculous schemes.

“Y/N? I thought you guys were dating,” Sunghoon said, his brow furrowing in confusion as he leaned back against the locker.

Riki nearly choked on his water, his eyes going wide as he turned to face him. “What? No, Y/N is just a friend.” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Oh. Huh. Well, I think I’m gonna pass anyway. She’s kind of… boring?”

The words hit Riki like a slap. His head snapped toward Sunghoon so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Boring?” he echoed, his voice sharp. “Says who?”

Sunghoon shrugged nonchalantly. “Everyone. I mean, I haven’t seen her at a single party or game, not even during lunch. What would we even talk about?”

Riki scoffed, crossing his arms as he glared at him. “Y/N is plenty of fun, asshole. What do you even know?” His voice was defensive, almost protective, and it surprised even himself.

Sunghoon tilted his head, studying Riki’s reaction. “I mean, she seems… quiet,” he admitted. “But now that I think about it, if you’re the one setting me up with her, she’s probably pretty great. You don’t exactly play matchmaker for just anyone.”

Riki blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Uh… well, yeah, she is great,” he muttered, not meeting Sunghoon’s eyes.

Sunghoon grinned. “You know what? Why not? She’s cute.”

Riki froze. His grip tightened on the strap of his backpack, and for a split second, he wasn’t sure why his stomach twisted at Sunghoon’s words. Calling you cute? Of course, you were cute. He’d always known that. So why did it sound weird coming from someone else?

He quickly shook off the strange feeling, chalking it up to his usual overprotectiveness. “Alright,” he said, his voice coming out more clipped than he intended. “But don’t do anything weird. Seriously.”

Sunghoon laughed, pushing off the locker. “Weird? Relax, I’ll be a gentleman. So, you gonna tell her, or should I?”

Riki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell her. Just… don’t mess this up, alright?”

Sunghoon smirked as he walked away. “I won’t. But, man, you’re acting real possessive for ‘just a friend,’ don’t you think?”

Riki didn’t respond, watching as Sunghoon disappeared down the hall. The words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—he was more than just “overprotective” when it came to you.

Today, you felt a kind of giddiness you hadn’t experienced in a while. After weeks of drowning in study sessions, late-night cramming for club responsibilities, and endless schoolwork, you were finally doing something for yourself. And to top it all off, you weren’t just going out—you were going out with a boy.

It had been forever since you’d made this much effort. You dolled yourself up, not too over the top, but more than your usual routine. Casual but undeniably cute. You felt like a new version of yourself, and it was exciting.

Standing in front of your mirror, you hummed along to the music playing softly in the background, carefully adjusting your hair. You tilted your head, giving yourself one last once-over with a satisfied grin when there was a knock on your door.

“Y/N, I’m coming in,” came the familiar voice.

Before you could even respond, the door creaked open, and Riki stepped inside. His usual easy-going demeanor faltered the second he saw you. The air felt heavy, and his eyes widened as if he’d been caught off guard.

For a moment, he just stared, the words dying in his throat. Why were you so dressed up? He’d seen you a thousand times, but never like this. Something about the way your hair framed your face, the slight gloss on your lips, and the way your outfit hugged your figure—it was like he was seeing you for the first time.

Were you always this pretty?

“Is he on his way? What kind of car does he drive?” you asked, practically buzzing with excitement.

Your voice snapped him out of whatever trance he was in, and he blinked, his expression hardening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Uh… yeah, he’s almost here,” he muttered, his tone uncharacteristically stiff.

The doorbell rang, and your face lit up instantly. Clapping your hands together, you grabbed your bag and checked your outfit one last time. You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Not too bad, right? Think he’ll like it?”

Riki froze again. The words caught in his throat, and for a second, he thought about telling you the truth. That you looked beautiful. That the thought of you being this excited about someone else was bothering him more than it should.

But instead, his pride got the better of him. “I—well—you look stupid,” he blurted out, his words harsher than he intended.

You rolled your eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Say whatever you want, Riki. Your opinion doesn’t matter tonight. I’ll text you the details tomorrow!”

And just like that, you were gone, your scent lingering in the room as you hurried past him and out the door.

Riki stood there, staring at the space you’d just left. His chest felt tight, an unfamiliar weight settling there as he replayed the moment in his head. What was this feeling? Why was his stomach twisting uncomfortably at the thought of you with someone else?

He swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair as he sat on your bed, shoulders slumping. Something was changing—something he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit yet. But as he sat there, his chest aching and his mind racing, one thing was becoming painfully clear.

He didn’t want to be the one you texted tomorrow to tell all the details about tonight. He wanted to be the one sitting across from you, the one you were so excited to see. And that realization scared him more than anything.

The next week was nothing short of torture for Riki. As if fate was playing a cruel joke, you and Sunghoon seemed to hit it off. You weren’t officially dating, but the two of you were in the so-called “talking stage.” It didn’t matter what stage it was—every second of it felt wrong to Riki.

Your usual library spot? You weren’t alone anymore. Sunghoon was always there, sitting across from you, leaning in too close, making you laugh in ways that Riki used to. Your desk? It was now stocked with your favorite snacks every morning—snacks that weren’t from Riki. And the final blow? You called Sunghoon by his nickname. His nickname. Riki clenched his fists every time he overheard it because not once in all the years he’d known you had you ever called him by a nickname.

What did Sunghoon have that Riki didn’t? He left snacks, visited you in the library, and called you nicknames. Riki did all of that first. So why wasn’t it enough?

For the first time, Riki felt you slipping away. And for the first time, he realized just how much you meant to him. But instead of confronting those feelings, he did what he always did best—he buried them.

The dismissal bell rang, and the school flooded with students rushing to leave. You were taking your time, slowly packing up while your music played softly in your headphones. A tap on your shoulder startled you, making you jump.

“Hey, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” Sunghoon said with an easy laugh.

You laughed back, pushing him playfully. “It’s fine. Yeah, I’m ready to go, but we should wait for Riki. He might need a ride home.”

Sunghoon’s brow furrowed, confused. “ni-ki? I thought he went on that date.”

Your hands paused mid-motion. “What?”

“Yeah, didn’t he tell you? He’s been talking about it all day.” Sunghoon said it so casually, but his words felt like a punch to your chest.

No. Riki hadn’t told you anything. And now that you thought about it, he’d been distant recently, skipping out on plans and barely texting back. But to go on a date and not even mention it? That wasn’t like him at all. A strange feeling bubbled in your chest—was it anxiety or something else entirely?

“Oh. I guess we should just go then,” you murmured, brushing past Sunghoon, who quickly followed after you.

It stayed like that for weeks. Riki kept avoiding you, making himself scarce. He didn’t leave snacks on your desk anymore, didn’t visit you in the library, and the only time you caught glimpses of him was when he was with her. That girl in his friend group—except now, his arm was around her shoulder.

Something about seeing them together twisted your stomach into knots. You couldn’t figure out what was going on. The absence of Nishimura Riki was a void you weren’t coping with well. You missed his annoying presence, his whining, his endless teasing. When had he become so important to you? And more importantly, why did it hurt so much to see him with someone else?

Days passed, your short fling with Sunghoon had come to an end. You and Sunghoon realized you weren’t a good match. It wasn’t dramatic; the spark just wasn’t there. You were relieved to have gained a friend, but even that small resolution didn’t fill the aching gap that Riki had left behind.

One day, as you trudged toward class, your thoughts heavy, you spotted him. For a moment, everything else faded. His uniform was crisp for once, his hair falling perfectly across his forehead, and his headphones hung loosely around his neck. You felt your heart skip, a familiar warmth creeping in. But then you saw her—the girl. She was right next to him, laughing as she leaned closer.

Riki caught your eyes, and for a moment, you swore you saw something flicker in his expression. But then he looked away, a fake smile plastered back on his face, and it felt like someone had ripped the air out of your lungs.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The sudden, painful realization hit you like a truck—you had fallen for Nishimura Riki. The cocky, annoying, rude, childish Riki. And you had realized it far too late.

Fueled by a sense of urgency, you stormed over to him. The closer you got, the more his eyes widened. His body tensed, his jaw clenching as if he knew what was coming.

“Riki, I need to talk to you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

He scoffed, avoiding your gaze as he shifted awkwardly. “What could we possibly need to talk about?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Oh, I don’t know. How about the fact that you’ve been ignoring me for weeks? How about the fact that you’ve completely shut me out?”

He let out a bitter laugh, his eyes now locking with yours. “Me? Ignoring you? Don’t make me laugh. Weren’t you the one who ditched me first? The second Sunghoon gave you a little attention, you were all over him like he was your whole world.”

You flinched at the venom in his words. “What are you even talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb!” he snapped, his voice rising. “You’ve been desperate for attention since day one. The moment someone else gave it to you, you didn’t even think twice about ditching me.”

The words stung more than you thought possible, and tears welled in your eyes. “Is that how you really see me? Someone who just begs for love and clings to anyone willing to give it? Or is that what you wanted me to be? Someone who would never leave you, so you could string me along whenever you wanted? Like you always have?”

His eyes softened, regret flickering through them, but before he could respond, the girl at his side stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm.

“Alright ni-ki.. I get it now.” You took that as your cue. Turning on your heel, you walked away without looking back, tears blurring your vision.

He gulped as he watched you walk away, Itching to chase after you. He never thought the loss of his first name coming from your lips would hurt this much. But it did.

For the nights after that, sleep was impossible. You lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying the confrontation with Riki over and over in your head. His words, his tone, the hurt that lingered in his eyes despite the venom in his voice—it was all too much. The raw pain left a lump in your throat, and the longer you thought about it, the more your chest ached.

You didn’t know how to move past it. Slowly, you started closing yourself off. The window you always left unlocked for Riki to climb through at night? It was shut now, the latch sealed as if closing it would somehow lock away the memories too.

Everything was weighing on you, dragging you deeper into a pit of emotions you couldn’t escape from. You needed something—anything to distract yourself. That’s when you remembered Sunghoon’s message from earlier.

Sunghoon:

Hey I know parties aren’t really your thing, but you can always come and stick with me tonight if you want? LMK.

You sighed, staring at the screen for what felt like forever before finally making a decision. Maybe this was what you needed, a change of scenery, a chance to forget for just one night. Without overthinking, you hit the call button.

He answered almost immediately, his voice casual but with a hint of surprise. “Hey, Y/N, what’s up?”

“Hey, Hoon,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “I’ll be on my way soon.”

When you arrived at the party, the air was buzzing with energy. Music thumped loudly in the background, lights flickered through the windows, and the yard was packed with groups of people chatting and laughing. You felt a pang of anxiety as you stepped inside, but it was quickly drowned out when Sunghoon spotted you from across the room.

“Y/N!” he called, weaving through the crowd with a grin. “You made it.”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“I’m glad you came,” he said, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people, and we can hang out.”

He led you through the party, his presence grounding you as you met new faces and settled into the environment. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you felt yourself relaxing. Laughing. Forgetting.

But that peace was short-lived.

Halfway through the night, as you stood by the kitchen with Sunghoon, sipping on a red solo cup which he’d handed you, your eyes landed on someone you weren’t prepared to see. Riki.

He was standing on the far side of the room, a red Solo cup in hand, his face half-hidden by the shadowy lighting. But it was unmistakably him. His posture was relaxed, but he wasn’t speaking as his group of friends talked. You looked around for the girl he grasped onto recently but she was nowhere in sight.

Your chest tightened, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. For a moment, all the progress you’d made to distract yourself unraveled. You tried to look away, but it was like your eyes were glued to him.

Sunghoon noticed immediately. “Hey,” he said gently, stepping in front of you to block your view. “You okay?”

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus on him. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Not at all.

Riki hadn’t noticed you at first, too caught up in the chaos of the party. But when he finally glanced toward the kitchen, his heart stopped. There you were, standing next to Sunghoon, looking beautiful in a way that made his chest ache.

His grip on his cup tightened as he watched Sunghoon lean closer, whispering something that made you laugh softly. That laugh. The one he hadn’t heard in weeks. It was his laugh, the one you used to share with him.

“ni-ki,” a girl next to him said, tugging on his sleeve to grab his attention. But he barely heard her, his focus still glued to you.

“Excuse me for a second,” he mumbled, setting his cup down and stepping away from his group. He didn’t even know what he was doing. His feet carried him across the room before his brain had the chance to catch up.

You saw him coming before he even reached you. The sight of him walking toward you, his expression unreadable, made your stomach twist. Sunghoon glanced over his shoulder and immediately stiffened.

“Y/N,” Riki said, his voice low but firm as he stopped in front of you. His gaze flickered to Sunghoon briefly before settling back on you. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated, your walls immediately going up. “What is there to talk about, ni-ki?”

“Please,” he said, his tone softer now, almost desperate wincing at the way you spit his nickname.

Sunghoon stepped closer, his presence protective. “Maybe now isn’t the time, Riki.”

Riki’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “I wasn’t asking you, Sunghoon.”

Your heart was racing, caught between the two of them. The tension in the air was suffocating, and you didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll give you guys a minute,” Sunghoon finally said, his voice steady but his eyes lingering on you for reassurance before he walked off.

Riki took a step closer, his hands buried in his pockets as he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “For everything.”

You swallowed hard, your emotions a whirlwind. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

“Then don’t say anything,” he said quickly. “Just… listen. Please.”

And so, for the first time in weeks, you let him talk.

He led you up the stairs, weaving through the chaos of the party. The bass of the music faded the further you went, replaced by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. He stopped in front of an empty room, pushing the door open and letting you step inside first. The room was dim, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window. When he followed, the soft click of the door shutting behind him felt heavier than it should have.

You turned to face him, crossing your arms defensively. Your guard was up, and he could see it all over your face—your hurt, your anger, your confusion. He hated that he was the one who put that look in your eyes. How had things gotten so messed up? It reminded him of when you were younger, back in middle school, when he could never find the right words to say to you. But this time, it felt like so much more was at stake.

“Y/N…” His voice was quiet, laced with hesitation, his dark eyes glowing softly under the light. “I haven’t been real with you lately.”

You didn’t say anything, your glare sharp enough to cut through him.

“To be honest…” He froze, the words catching in his throat as his face heated up. He looked down, running a hand through his hair as if it would steady him. “Well, I’ve realized that you mean… a lot more to me than I thought.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat, but your defenses didn’t falter. “What are you trying to say?”

He sighed, taking a tentative step closer. “I’m saying I screwed up, okay? I’ve been jealous, selfish, and downright stupid. Seeing you with Sunghoon, thinking I might lose you… it made me realize something.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting, your breath catching as he took another step closer.

“I like you, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of his confession. “No, scratch that—I’m in love with you. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I was too dumb to figure it out until I almost lost you.”

Your heart was pounding, the walls you’d built around yourself threatening to crumble. His words felt like a punch to the gut, but in the best way possible.

“Why now?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why did it take all of this for you to say something?”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his tone filled with regret. “Scared of ruining what we already had. But when I saw you with him, I realized I couldn’t just stand by and lose you. I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. I just… I need you to know how I feel.”

You stared at him, your emotions a whirlwind. Part of you wanted to stay mad, to keep your guard up and protect yourself. But the other part—the part that had always been soft for him—wanted to believe every word he was saying.

“Riki,” you started, your voice trembling. “You really hurt me, you know that, right?”

He nodded, guilt washing over his face. “I know, and I’ll spend however long it takes making it up to you pretty. I swear.”

There was a long silence as you studied him, searching his face for any sign that he wasn’t being genuine. But all you saw was raw vulnerability.

Finally, you sighed, stepping closer to him. “You’re such an idiot,” you muttered, but there was no malice in your voice.

He smiled softly, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. “I’ve been told.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached up, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. His hands found your waist as you stood on your toes, and then, without another word, you kissed him.

It was soft at first, tentative, like the two of you were still testing the waters. But as the moment deepened, all the tension, all the weeks of hurt and miscommunication melted away. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, and you let yourself fall into him completely.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathless. He smiled at you, his usual cocky grin softened by the tenderness in his eyes.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Don’t push your luck.”

He laughed, the sound light and carefree, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Riki had known you since middle school. Back then, you were the girl who sat by the window during lunch, scribbling in your notebook or reading while everyone else was too busy trying to be cool. You were quiet but quick-witted, and for some reason, that always fascinated him.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he started noticing you more. Maybe it was the time you helped him with a history project because he procrastinated and would’ve failed without you, Maybe… It was the day you both ran into each other. Literally.

He hated admitting it, but he always found himself drawn to you. You weren’t flashy or loud like the other people in his life. You were just you—calm, focused, and, most of all, real.

But middle school Riki wasn’t great at handling feelings. Instead of being sweet to you, he’d tease you mercilessly, always looking for a reaction. He loved how your face would scrunch up when you were annoyed or how you’d mutter sarcastic comebacks under your breath, pretending you weren’t affected.

Even then, he knew you were different. Special. But he never let himself think too much about it.

As the years passed, his feelings only grew, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. By the time high school rolled around, you were still his constant. The one person he could always count on, the one who somehow understood him without needing a million words.

But somewhere along the way, he’d started feeling something heavier whenever he saw you. When you smiled at him, it felt like a spark ignited in his chest. When you scolded him for slacking off, he’d secretly enjoy the attention. And when you laughed—God, when you laughed—he swore it was his favorite sound in the world.

Still, he buried those feelings deep. He figured it was better to keep things the way they were. If he said something and you didn’t feel the same, he could lose you entirely, and the thought of that terrified him.

Then Sunghoon came into the picture. And for the first time, he realized he wasn’t the only one who could see how amazing you were. Watching you smile at someone else, laugh at someone else’s jokes, give someone else the attention that used to be his—it tore him apart. He felt like he was suffocating, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Even now, standing in that room with you after finally confessing everything, he couldn’t help but think back to all those moments from middle school. How blind had he been? How stupid to waste so much time pretending he didn’t care?

Looking at you now, your cheeks flushed, your eyes searching his face like you were trying to figure him out, he realized he didn’t want to hold back anymore.

He smiled, soft and genuine, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, “I think I’ve been falling for you since middle school. I just didn’t know how to say it back then. Guess I’m still figuring it out now.”

You blinked at him, stunned for a moment, before a small laugh escaped your lips. “You’ve been a mess since middle school, Riki.”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin growing wider. “But I’m your mess now.”

And with that, he kissed you again, pouring years of unspoken feelings into the moment, knowing he’d finally found where he belonged—right there, with you.

[rustycamo]

Thanks for tagging me!

1. Night!

2. I did have a plushie and I do still! It is a blahaj shark :)

3. Ooooh I have to say the podcast "Malevolent" by Harlan Guthrie. I think it's so good.

4. I would love, love, love a pet rat, or rather, a few pet rats.

5. Probably one I saw on this site, "Don't trust how you feel about your life past 9 PM". I'm sure we all get the evening blues, I sure do and it's so helpful to remember that little bit of advice.

6. Hmm gotta be my partner Baz but I have so many people I love (my mother, my friends; Flynn and Andrew and many more).

7. Red! I really just love it for everything, but most of all I love wearing it. Genuinely nearly all my outfits are red or black and it's really ironic because of my birthname meaning red.

8. This morning, my dog.

9. Sweet all the way, I am the biggest sweet tooth there has ever been.

10. I don't believe in fate, I like to think we shape and forge our own futures.

Alrighty!

1. What is your favourite song?

2. What is your fondest memory?

3. What is something someone said to you that has never left you?

4. Favourite season?

5. Ok, what's your favourite favourite thing? The thing that you go absolute bonkers over and are practically buzzing if someone else mentions it?

6. When are you at your happiest?

7. What would be the one thing you'd tell your younger self, the one thing you really needed to hear at that time?

8. What's your biggest green flag?

9. What's your biggest red flag?

10. Tell me something you've always wanted to tell someone (a fact, a but of insight, some thing random about yourself, anything!).

I do Not have enough mutuals for this, let's see:

@platinumz0nvrmre @im-an-anthusiast @sleepy-boything-shit @egpenrose @soleilluneetoiles11 @starbuds-and-rosedust

(Sorry if I've gone and tagged anyone who doesn't do tag games!)

Ten questions to ask a mutual

Instructions: prev asks ten questions and you answer them, then ask ten new ones and tag ten people to keep the chain going! I’ll go first

What is the weirdest thing you’ve eaten? (For me it’s the time I accidentally drank ants)

do you like purple or green more? (For me it’s a 50/50 I love them both)

what is your favorite two color color combo? (For me it’s purple and gold)

are you a cat or dog person? (Dogs 100%)

what is your favorite painting (Miranda by John William Waterhouse)

Mountains or beaches? (Mountains)

what’s your favorite dessert? (Lemon bars)

are you right or left handed? (Right but I used to be left handed)

salty or sweet? (Sweet)

summer or winter? (Winter)

I’m tagging 11 people but it’s whatever

@wra1th-k1ng

@bladevoyager

@tragedyanddust

@kindred-spirit-93

@urfavgreekmythnerd

@sickneurotic

@ry-diggity

@we-are-but-dead-stars

@thestarryfalls

@tamaruaart

@hermesmoly

[cybergoth1]

the evil eye | dick grayson x fem!yandere reader

synopsis: ❛❛detective (and vigilant by night) dick grayson turns to you as a last resort to solve a case involving a new serial killer terrorizing blüdhaven. after years paying for your crimes in the depths of arkham asylum, the last thing you expected was the police showing up at your door, desperate for your help. even more surprising is the overwhelming, unsettling and obsessive pull you start to feel toward him as you two work side by side❞.

warnings/tags: 18+, major dark themes, fem!reader, yandere tendencies, yandere!reader, reader's a ex criminal, ex serial killer, reader is the hannibal to dick's will graham. detective dick grayson is a warning. sexual content. mentions of killing, mentions of psychopathy and narcissism. mentions of time in arkham. gaslighting. reader literally killed people, be aware. inspired by hannibal and silence of the lambs. obsessive behavior. stalker!reader. batfamily hates you.

— ❛❛THE EVIL EYE'S CONTENT:

PROLOGUE: but you belong to me.

CHAPTER 01: you set my soul alight.

CHAPTER 02: she ate my heart and then she eat my brain.

UNLIKE MOST OF your fellow prisoners, you’d never actually been involved in a mass breakout. You’d usually overhear their elaborate escape plans over the awful prison food, nodding with a bored expression. Then, you’d simply be escorted back to your cell, spending the rest of your free time before lights out reading a dog-eared copy of Pride and Prejudice. You vaguely remembered when Harley Quinn’s voice suddenly grew unbearably loud, and the tempers of the other prisoners began flaring far beyond their usual levels. The unbearable noise seemed to slither through your brain like a slippery snake, making you roll your eyes. You saw them as little monkeys — unpolished and uneducated — acting impulsively with the few brain cells they had left in their heads. Good thing they don’t like you either. Most of them just saw you as a snobby bitch, looking down on them as if you weren’t just another miserable soul trapped in the abuses and horrors of Arkham Asylum.

“Hey, is it true that you killed a guy just because he stepped on your foot on the subway?” you heard Harley’s annoying voice again, this time interrupting your beloved sunbath. You sighed loudly and made the foolish decision to glance at her curious figure.

"That's fucking stupid" you said, closing your eyes again to feel the sun on your cold skin.

"Yes! That's what I told Ivy," she said cheerfully, her high pitched voice growing louder as she come closer to your body. You felt a persistent, almost irrational urge to strike her "you never killed for shallow reasons!" this makes you open your eyes and examine her closely. How could she possibly understand your motivations? Sometimes it was hard for you to wrapped your head around it. Harley felt your questioning gaze and shrugged.

"Oh, come on, I'm a psychiatrist. I have a Phd, for godsake".

"Yeah, I know".

"You always choose victims who offend your morals and your personal sense of justice. We should totally be friends".

You sigh loudly again. You wouldn’t call them victims — but none of it mattered anymore. Harley keeps rambling about your personality traits and psychological evaluations, like a true psychiatrist would, while you let your mind wander, staring at the other prisoners. They all look as beaten down as you did. You could still feel your busted lips aching after a guard punched you in the face for not taking your meds — you run your tongue over the wound, savoring the metallic taste.

"Hey, Quinn?"

"Hm?"

“When we’re out of here, look me up. We could go out for a drink.”

Twelve years, eight months, and twenty days. That's the total time you spent locked up, basically rooting, in Arkham Asylum since your pre-trial detention, watching the sun rise through a small square window while trying not to kill your annoying cellmates by suffocating them with pillows and dirty sheets. The guards were well aware of your tendencies and unpredictable behavior, making sure to threaten you at every possible moment.

"I killed people for less, you know that, right?" that was always enough to earn you a new torture session at the hands of the guards, you usually just call them dogs, and sometimes even the nurses when they were having a bad day. But, in the end, you always considered yourself strong, capable, and with an impenetrable mind. And you were, in fact, all of that and more — so much more that you endured the horrors of that place for over a decade as if it were a walk in the park. A long, agonizing, shitty walk in the park. And now you’re walking as a free woman after twelve years, feeling the wind on your face while clenching the cheap cigarette between your teeth. Almost free, at least. You're serving the rest of your sentence in a parole due to your impressive good behaviour.

Under certain negotiation and strict conditions, you were released two weeks ago, seizing the opportunity to finally disappear into anonymity in another city — unfortunately still close to Arkham. You had to settle for Blüdhaven during the legal arrangement, since you couldn’t leave New Jersey during your parole and you’d rather eat your own feet than spending another day in Gotham. You got yourself a small apartment in a horrible neighborhood, cheap enough to cover the rent with your new part-time job as a cashier. No one there cared enough to check your criminal record or ask why you always had to be home early, or why you occasionally had to report to the police station just to confirm you hadn’t left the state. That's the life.

“To new beginnings,” you said quietly, raising your glass to the empty living room before immediately downing the whiskey. It taste like dog piss — better than anything you had in prision.

The first four months of your newfound freedom were tainted by the bitter taste of mediocrity and a gnawing sense of inferiority every time your eyes fell on the crumbling walls of your apartment or the stack of papers from your public defender, detailing the suffocating limitations of your parole. The justice system had reduced you to a chained dog —muzzled, restrained, and stripped of dignity.

But you were destined for greatness — you felt it every time you looked in the mirror, every time you saw your own perfection. You were intelligent, strategic, and able to perceive what others could not. Those fortunate enough to be part of your life should be grateful for your words, your brilliant ideas, and the sheer privilege of your presence.

Thanks to your sharp intellect and keen observation, it didn’t take long for you to identify the patterns in your part-time job. Your boss, the supermarket manager, was a disgusting man who took pleasure in belittling his employees, particularly the young women. He exploited his position to satisfy his vile desires, acting as a reprehensible predator. Throughout your shift, you spent much of your time thinking of ways to rid the world of his vile presence. You believed you would be doing everyone a favor, even if they couldn’t understand it — few had the courage or capacity to do what was necessary for the greater good. That's why you existed. You were the necessary evil.

But since you needed the money, you chose a more effective approach than simply eliminating him. You manipulated him, exploiting his own immorality to gain what you desired — more perks and less work. You allowed him to believe that one day, if he keeps helping you out, you would let him take you to a cheap motel, or his car, and fuck you like a brainless fleshlight, just the way he wanted.

You kept him on edge, making him believe he was in control while portraying yourself as a vulnerable girl who needed an older man to take care of her — both emotionally and physically. You told countless lies, fabricating an abusive ex and a negligent father, allowing him to revel in his foolish fantasy of being needed by you — while he was nothing but a fun game to play. Now that you had your boss on a leash, desperate for you, he stopped bothering the other girls, too busy looking at your ass and tits every time you passed in front of him. You made a point to wear tighter pants and unbutton a few extra buttons on your uniform.

That's the necessary evil you belived so much.

Unfortunately, your peace of mind was short-lived. Just as you were beginning to earn enough money to continue your life in a less humiliating way, a knock at your door ushered in a reality you would have preferred to avoid. You rose from the couch, the cigarette still lit and clamped between your lips.

“I didn’t order anything,” you said, looking at the five cops crowded at your door. Two of them weren’t in uniform, only the large, shiny badges identifying them as part of the Blüdhaven Police Department. The only woman in the group looked at you with a blank expression, calling you by your last name before taking a step closer.

"I'm detective Montoya, this is my partner detective Grayson" she said pointing to the tall figure on her left side. When you finally looked at her partner, you felt the cigarette between your lips become flat under your force as you clenched your teeth tighter, struggling to suppress a sicking smile. Those were the bluest eyes you had ever seen, watching you warily, his black hair falling gracefully over his forehead. He stood behind Montoya, carefully analyzing your posture and movements. Smart, but you were smarter.

Montoya mentioned something about the police and FBI wanting to talk to you. You were too consumed by the overwhelming, nauseating feeling rising within you as you stared at the stunning man in front of you — it’s happening again. You fought to suppress a wild smirk, your pupils dilating as shivers ran up your spine. He looked back at you with those beautiful eyes, like a piece of the sky or even the ocean.

You already knew what to do.

“I guess one talk won’t hurt,” you said, then opened the door for them.

get in the mood: I. monster, II. bad romance, III. judas, IV. toxic, V. supermassive black hole, VI. teeth, VII. criminal, VIII. radar, IX. gimme more.

author's note: well, reader is fucking insane, but she's slaying ok. please let me know if you want to join the taglist.

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 2

Max Fewtrell x Norris!reader

Lando Norris x Sister!reader

Daniel Riccardo x Norris!reader

summary: You and max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

series masterlist | masterlist | previous | next

-

“I hate people” You say as you sit down at the small table in Daniel’s kitchen. He sets breakfast on the table and raises an eyebrow “I know, but why now?”

You turn your phone to him and show him the post that kika had send you earlier in the morning “Is it that unbelievable that two super attractive people are friends?” You chuckle at his words which makes him smile.

It slowly fades “Has lando said anything to you about it?” You shake your head but lean a bit back “Actually.. He did ask me yesterday what we are” Daniel raised an eyebrow “Really? And how did that go down?”

“Told him we’re friends. Then I asked why. He said he was just wondering and then told me to forget he asked” You shrug and take a bite of your breakfast.

“Hm. A tad weird no?” He says, sipping his coffee. You shrug “He can believe whatever he wants. And he’ll know where to find me if he has questions” Daniel nods and focuses back on his food.

“So, what is the plan for today?” You ask curious “Well, I’d say finally going to let you hold a koala and I got an invite to a party. You know these people too” He says with a smile. You smile wide “Koalas? Finally!” He chuckled “That’s the only thing you heard, hmm?”

“Absolutely. But yeah we can go. What kind of party?” He shrugged “just a party. nothing fancy” “no fancy clothes?” He shakes his head “Thank god. I didn’t pack fancy”

“As if we couldn’t just go and buy something” You roll your eyes at him “Finish up. I wanna see koalas” “Relax, they won’t run away” “You never know”

-

danielriccardo

liked by yn, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1m others

danielriccardo she finally got to hold a koala! and meet someone who looks happier than her 🐨👀

*tagged yn*

yn happier than me? more than you. You’ll get wrinkles from smiling this much

danielriccardo Im only smiling because you’re here

yn charmer much?

danielriccardo always for my favourite girl

yn dont make me blush, riccardo

danielriccardo 😁

user @/landonorris ???

user tagging lando as if he’s stupid

user he can read yk

landonorris are you ever coming home, or what? 😂

yn never. this place is to beautiful

landonorris daniel, i’d like my sister back

danielriccardo can’t do anything, sorry mate

user now why is he so close to her.. 👀

user sure, friends

user woman and men can be friends yall

*liked by yn*

-

yn added to their story

[caption 1: night out 💙 caption 2: I expected more patience from him.. he stood there for 20 minutes..]

franciscagomez girl, you’re telling me you two aren’t a thing??

yn yeah?

sure…

yn why is everyone so weird all of sudden. I’ve visited daniel alone before

that was different..

yn sure.

landonorris be safe please!!

yn will be. i’m with daniel, remember?

yeah that doesn’t calm me down..

yn ttyl 🫶🏻

yeah yeah 🤍

-

Drinks had been flowing for a good amount of time. It was safe to say that neither you nor Daniel were on the sober side. You stood next to him, while he was sitting on a chair, explaining something to the guy next to him.

One of your friends, who was rather clumsy, pushed you over and right into Daniel’s lap. You let out an surprised squeal and hold onto his shoulders for support. In an instinctive way, his arms wrap around you and leans against you in his drunken state.

You smile at the filming person who is laughing along you, while the friend who fell tried to get back up, which was even harder while laughing.

You helped her and watched them go to the bathroom. You now finally look at daniel, who’s lap you were still seated on. He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“If you wanted to sit, you could’ve just said something.” You laugh and turn to face the rest of the group “You’re an idiot”

“I’ve been told before” He laughed and you felt his thumb caressing your side. You sigh and let your head fall on his shoulder “Should we go home?” You hum “My feet hurt” “Told you to go in sneaker” “Shut up” He chuckled “I’ll call a cab”

-

You stumbled into the door and steadied yourself on daniel’s arm. You kicked off your shoes “I’m so dead” “Me too. Sleep?” “100%. I’m eating tomorrow.”

He nods and kicks off his shoes as well. You flop down on the couch “that’s not your bed” “I’m to lazy to walk there” He laughed and stumbled over to you. Before he could say anything, you moved and held up the blanket, inviting him.

“Not the plan but sure” He laid down next to you, looking at you. You make him turn and lay on his chest “Definitely comfortable” You mumble before your knocked out cold.

He laughs softly before closing his eyes as well.

-

Lando had been kind of worried about you. He knew how daniel could get when he was drunk. He had stopped the aussie from doing stupid things before while partying. He let his head fall backwards with a groan.

Max looked up from his phone and sighed “Just text her” “So I’ll get the same answer as before? No thanks”

Max rolls his eyes “I’ll be on stream if you’ll need me.” He got up and walked into his streaming room. Lando stayed on the couch. It was already late in australia, he knew that. You should’ve been back already.

His phone lights up and he sees his mothers name.

‘Did you know about this?’ Attached was a picture of you, sitting on daniel’s lap.

He opened the message

Lando sets his phone down. The picture engraved in his mind. This was out of character for you. Or was it? Did he even know who you were? Were you as close as he thought?

His thoughts were interrupted by Max poking his head in the door “Should we order some food? I’m starving” Lando nods “Sure”

“What’s up with you?” Lando shakes his head “Still about Yn and daniel?” “There is a picture from tonight..” Max raised an eyebrow as lando picks up his phone and shows it to max.

Max’s fists clench at his sides and he has to restrain himself from a sarcastic comment “Oh”

“Why would she lie? I mean, she could’ve told me! I’d rather know from her than the internet” “I’m sure she’ll explain.” “I hope.” “Let’s order food and get your mind off a bit.”

-

You had woken up with a raging headache. You tried to sit up, which didn’t work. You look up and see Daniel’s sleeping face. You feel his arms still wrapped around you and pause. Why in gods name are you in this position?

You gently lift his arms and slip out of his arms. You get into the guest bedroom and put your phone down to charge. While your phone was charging, you got some ibuprofen, water and set some down on the couch table in front of sleeping Daniel.

Your phone finally turns on. You’re horrified when you see missed calls from your mom, and texts from various people. You check your moms messages first and freeze again. When did that happen? You on Daniel’s- The fall.

Oh great.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and try calling your brother. It was around midnight in the uk so you weren’t sure he was going to pick up.

“Yn?” “Lando! Oh thank god. Thought you might be sleeping” “no, i’m not. I can’t sleep actually” You hesitate “The picture-“ “I don’t wanna hear it. Why would you lie to me?” “Lando-“

“no. you go and say you’re friends and that’s what I see? Who are you trying to fool here?” “We are just friends!” “sure as hell doesn’t look like it”

“Lando. We were drunk. I was pushed and landed there” “Sure. Well, good to know you’re okay. I’m going to bed.” “Lando please” The line goes dead and you sigh. Great.

You go and call your mother, who was a bit more understanding but still didn’t quite believe the story you told her.

A knock on the door startled you “yeah?” Daniel slowly opened the door “You okay?” You nod “Headache is getting better. Did you take your ibuprofen?” He nods “So..there’s-“ “A picture yeah. Mom and lando already ripped me one.” He sighed and sat down next to you on the bed.

“It is so out of context! This is really annoying.” He nods again and looks at his hands. You stand up “I’m gonna go and eat something. You coming?” “Yeah”

This time, the kitchen was silent. Neither of you knew what to say after last night.

-

“So when is he supposed to be here?” You ask Daniel as you put on your hiking shoes “Any minute. Oscars quite on point when he’s supposed to be there.” In that moment the doorbell rang.

Oscar stood there, smiling softly “Good morning you two! How have you slept?” You roll your eyes “Fine. We really shouldn’t have had that many drinks tho” Oscar chuckled “Yeah I saw. What did Lando say?”

You three make your way downstairs “He wasn’t mad about the sitting in his lap thing at all. He thought I was lying tho when I told him we’re just friends, which isn’t a lie. We’re really not together. Nothing.” You say defeated.

“I’m sure he’ll calm down and you’ll get to talk to him.” You nod “I hope. I really didn’t lie to him” Oscar pats you on the back “It’ll be alright. He’s bark no bite”

Daniel laughs “That’s what i said too! He couldn’t be mad at you forever even if he tried. He loves you way to much” Oscar nods in agreement “He’s always talking about you. Sometimes I feel like I know you better than Lando” You chuckle at that.

“Ill text him once we get back”

-

yn

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, danielriccardo and 926.467 others

yn when in australia ☀️

*tagged oscarpiastri / danielriccardo*

oscarpiastri my hair oh god

yn I loved it 😂

danielriccardo yeah, i’m sure lily loved it too 😂

oscarpiastri I hate you both

yn 🧡

danielriccardo never going on a hike with you ever again

yn why? I made it to the end

oscarpiastri after laying on the floor and refusing to get up because you know who is ignoring your messages

yn now that is mean

danielriccardo no, just the truth

user Is lando ignoring yn??

user I would too if my sister would have something going on with my friend

user we don’t even know if they do

user have you not seen the pictures??

user and? you need to chill out. not every woman who has a guy as friend wants to date him

*liked by yn*

user see? she even liked the comment.

user the difference between daniel and oscar 😭

user daniel is so boyfriend coded

-

Daniel closed the trunk and made his way to the driver seat. You stare out of the window. Neither of you have actively acknowledged what had happened the night before. The hike with oscar took your mind off it all a bit but you were sure. You had to get to lando before it all gets to his head.

The ride to the airport was quiet. Only as you finally made it and Daniel got your stuff out of the trunk, he finally looked at you.

“Here” “Thank you” “I’ll bring you to your gate” You nod and you both walk in silence. It wasn’t as comfortable as it had been a few days ago.

As you arrived at your gate, you hug him. You stay like that for a few moments before you pulled away.

“yn?” “Daniel” He looks at you a bit nervous “We’re good, right?” You smile softly “Yeah, we’re good. I’ll text you when I land.” He nods “Have a good flight” You wave at him as you leave.

caption: Home sweet home 🇲🇨❤️

franciscagomez weren’t you supposed to be back in like 5 days?

yn lando is ignoring me because of the picture. There’s more to that.

oh..hope you guys figure it out. Gossip sesh w alex soon?

yn 100%

-

Max got a bit mean, oops. Let’s see what she’ll do and what Lando does next 👀

I’ll try posting every 1-2 days. I don’t do tag lists btw

[miyamiwu]

just remembered that the first time Yingdu showed the first part of the ED was on episode 3, which was pretty much a Xia Fei (+Vein) intro

and what do we have at the beginning of the ED?

This reminds me of what @protect-namine said in the tags/reblogs of my post about how the main theme of this show is on fraud/scam/lies, and ShiGuang and VeiFei are foils of each other in playing out that theme. Notably, they mentioned this:

like there’s an interesting contrast to me with how when xf is in danger he can just ring up vein any time#cxs never knows when he’s in danger and lg never lets him know. lg is the one who has to keep tabs at all times#i wouldn’t say veifei is wholesome or whatever. i like the mafia boss x model thing they have going on. there’s still a power imbalance#but there’s definitely a more open trust communication thing going on with them right now that’s highlighted#specifically because shiguang can’t do that with the secrets#truly me learning that vein hates lies has done wonders for how i view veifei. it’s key to them

Then in Episode 3, the beginning of the ED, which juxtaposes the two pairs, is shown. I talked more about it here, but let me just copy the relevant parts of what I said there:

ShiGuang has distinct light sources in different colors, blue and green. No intersecting elements. In contrast, the light from Xia Fei’s frame is spilling over into Vein’s, and the smoke from Vein’s cigarette is rising to Xia Fei’s frame.

Additionally, Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi are looking in opposite directions, while Xia Fei and Vein are both facing towards us.

This also makes it seems like VeiFei are looking at each other, unlike ShiGuang

very interesting, Link Click

[kyber-shack]

I haven't seen GF in years but was abruptly reminded a while ago and found your blog and your Pinecest+Stancest posts while looking at the Pinecest tag so I gotta share this plot that's now trapped in my brain. If I got the details about canon wrong, blame the passage of time, not me lol.

Ok I'm sure I'm not the only one who came up with that but: Mutually Unrequited/Pining Stans that both never acted on their feelings and spent the entire separation depressed about it and blaming the way they were hiding their feelings partially for how things went down. Enter Pinecest, only just clocking that this is Not Normal Sibling Feelings.

Stan encourages it when he first realizes it because he never got to even try, but maybe Mabel and Dipper can be happy. So he bullies any boys Mabel brings home, shuts down Dipper's flirt attempts with Wendy & Pacifica - Dipper catches on to his feelings first and wants to prove to himself that he's NORMAL OKAY??? he is, in fact, super not normal, but he'll scream that he is at the top of his lungs - and then Ford returns.

Ford also immediately catches on to Dipper's crush. Because he gets Dipper, and of course, he'd love his twin. He can't see Mabel's feelings as easily because he's insta-transferencing her and Stanley and the idea of her liking Dipper back is unfathomable (read: heartbreaking) because then it means perhaps Stanley could've loved him too.

But he cares about Dipper, so Ford thinks the best he can do is maybe help cut off those feelings at the knees before there's no going back for him, at least Dipper might not totally lose Mabel the way he and Stan thought they had lost each other, might eventually lead a normal non-recluse full of regrets life unlike them. So Ford offers to let Dipper stay without letting on his real reason to do so, and Mabel FLIPS OUT.

The thoughts have been building in the back of her head for a while, and she's suddenly confronted with what she never thought possible. Losing Dipper. And it hurts so so much and then Weirdmageddon comes and things go completely off the rails and now she knows she loves him but he's her brother, the world is ending and maybe he doesn't actually like her at all.

It ends with Dipper admitting to Mabel why he was even contemplating separation and Ford is trying to stop him while Stan has been working for this for months, damnit, and Ford's attempts at shutting the confession down just kill him. Dipper says it anyway, and Mabel thinks she's dreaming, but yeah, dummy, I love you too. How could you even think otherwise?

And seeing their dramatic first kiss totally guts Ford. He's happy for them, clearly, but he wants this oh so much and he can't have it. Stanley is shocked at how much Ford's affected by this development and things just blow up from there, and before either of them know it they're kissing.

Meanwhile Mabel and Dipper finally remember where they are and who they're with and fuck this is going to be difficult to explain - wait wtf GRUNKLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING. Well nothing they weren't right before that.

The rest of summer is an insanely awkward transition period where both couples are trying to work out how to deal with this new dynamic and what it means for their lives, especially for when Dipper and Mabel go back home. But everyone is insanely happy and when Dipper and Mabel come back to GF it's together, to a married couple of Grunkles (in everything except the eyes of the law).

And perhaps someday a - but lbr it'll be two - Pinecest Baby crawls around the Mystery Shack to everyone's delight...

ANON YOU'RE SO CRACKED AAAAAAAAH

such a cute premise of them finding out about each other's budding relationships despite the warnings from Ford and adamant attitude from Stan. SO good. flavor.

also implying that ford and stan were like watching/listening from around the corner or something is peak. honestly? this ask means so much to me.

[starberry-cupcake]

hello!! I'm back!!! *sitcom studio cheer sound*

previously, in nona del 9:

this happened

this is the general tag for all the recaps

last recap I said Something was happening and it has!! we have a puppy now!!! her name is Dana (after Scully)!! this is her!!!

DAY TWO (one of the things mentioned is that honesty's job goes terribly wrong and I feel so bad because I forgot to point it out in my recap, even if it was something that looked sus af to begin with and I was concerned when I read about it)

CHAPTER 7 (second house skull, after pyrrha probably)

nona wakes up abruptly

someone told me in the last recaps that the bible chapters are when nona is sleeping, which I hadn't put together at all and I don't know if I should have or if I missed something important

in any case, nona starts telling camilla what she dreamt, which is not what was in the bible chapter, so idk what's going on with that

maybe the bible thing is what harrow is seeing and the dreams are what an amnesiac gideon is seeing????

we don't know yet

she's describing being with the "other person" who is touching her hands but they're not hers

"I'm touching my own hands but they aren't mine"

which is another one on the tally for the "this is gideon in harrow's body" theory

they're surrounded by red eyes in the darkness and she's very hungry

and they're holding hands

that's the dream

she was startled awake because camilla threw a sponge at her

nona freaked the hell out about that

remember when harrow was woken up by og!gideon trying to murder her in cold blood every morning? those were simpler times

also, nona is about to put on the tshirt from the cover which took me 25 years and @lady-harrowhark pointing it out to notice it was a burger

camilla asks her about the hands and nona says she didn't like them

and that she doesn't like having hands????

she's a bit infuriating sometimes ngl

I don't know what to do with this information

pyrrha talks about people becoming violent because shit is getting real

and she prepares some mush for them to eat at breakfast

she's also worried about camilla's soul (and life) due to whatever it is they're doing on the sites

palmolive, I swear to whatever god of your choosing

(that isn't dr reverend emperor john asshat)

if something happens to camilla on your watch

I'm gonna chase your nerdy ass all the way to your river loft and back

when they start talking about nona wanting a "six months alive" gift, pyrrha tells camilla how depressing and non-gift-giving the ninth house is

which she visited when anastasia got settled

nice to know things in the ninth never ever changed

they did have a gift, though

the gift of ortus's poetry

nona wants differently colored hair ties, to not push too far into pyrrha's limited budget

we'll see if we make it to the birthday, there's a countdown going on

when nona gets to school, honesty has a punch in the eye and she has to help him with it until teacher angel comes in

teacher angel is still looking very sus, with clothes in disarray and also the same ones from the previous day

hot sauce also comes in afterwards, which makes me think she might have been following teacher angel

she's on the case

hot sauce gets very upset asking honesty who punched him in the face

everyone's very upset and tense, except for kevin who's eating peacefully

we love kevin

so, honesty tells the story and starts from the worst place imaginable to explain something that happened with accuracy

which is the end

but that's fine, because the tension of the story is in the middle, so we get the narrative effect

we appreciate that

he's got a podcast in another life

honesty was about to go to the tunnel job but, turns out, it wasn't a tunnel job

it was actually a mad max job

and they get cocky and do more than they were planning to, which is never a good idea

so, by the third attempt, the guy who's been doing the dropping-in maneuver gets very spooked by what he finds in there

which is a lot of people with white eyes who look directly at him when he shows up

which prompts militia trucks to pull them over

so honesty runs the fuck out of there and gets smashed into a pole

depiction of honesty, ruby and born in the morning after the incident, had they been together:

honesty gets saved and cared for by some homeless folk

after his face got smashed into the pole

and he clarifies they were trying to steal from a convoy

which he would have said no to had he known the job before being taken to do it

he asks hot sauce to protect him

which hot sauce agrees to, but I think this is too much work for one hot sauce alone, especially if she's keeping an eye on everything else

nona offers her help, but is rejected, on account of being dumb

I wonder if nona will somewhat reveal her powers of healing protecting these kids at some point

OH, ALSO

teacher angel sus person mentioned not being technically a doctor but getting a crash course in triage

which, continues to be sus behavior

is teacher angel helping with the fights? with war? with secret confrontations?

we'll have to wait and see!!

THAT'S IT FOR NOW!! I haven't had a lot of time to read and recap and I'm currently falling asleep as we speak, so sorry for such a short one this time!!! ♥

[jrooc]

🥶 Weekly Tag Wednesday 🧟‍♀️

Hi I'm Jess.. I'll be your cruise director today. Since January never ends and SAD is kicking in with gusto let's look back on a different time - specifically last year! Remember that? Ya me either. But I'm in charge here! So...

Name: Definitely not Candace (It's Jess) <insert new girl meme of schmidt>

Age you are mentally: 30

Top 3 fics that came out last year (that you can remember at this point lol) : Jesus why do I ask such hard questions.

Highway to Hedonism by @roryonic w art by @gallapiech

How to Disappear by @deedala

Last Night at the Verona Hotel by @the-rat-wins

Out of Nowhere by @suzy-queued (anything by Deena lol)

Add in any authors who you read all of their things: Special shoutout to anything by Cryme_anocean, @notherenewjersey @sgtmickeyslaughter @sam-loves-seb and @whatthebodygraspsnot (why did I even ask this lol I could keep going forever)

Fave artist/band/singer/group your discovered last year (has to be new to you, not new): Chappell Roan 💅🏻 and Fred Again..

One thing you learnt last year that you're taking into 2025: When things are shit it's easy to lose yourself. Don't let that happen.

Was is a good year or bad year? It was a better year in a lot of ways which caused some things to be bad

Is there anything superstitious you do to try and continue that vibe or absolutely change it? No but maybe I need to start saging things... myself? Manifesting? Send help!

Fave WIP your following into this year: there are so many good ones!

Can't Have a Stakeout by @lazystargazy

Workhouse Rock by @suzy-queued

Electric Blue by @goodkwuestion

Kidnapped at Christmas by @sam-loves-seb

Blackwing Prochecy and the pirate one by @crossmydna

ITQD always by @spoonfulstar

There's more but you get it...

Are you doing any January 'get healthy' things? Drinking less. Eating more vegetables. Holding firm on what I need even if it makes anxious.

More random questions~~ Did you consider yourself an avid reader before you found fanfic?  I am and I was.

Do you read books as well as fanfic? Yes or No: fanfic or die

What are you doing to survive this January so far? Reading fics and cuddling my cat in case that wasn't super clear by this point

This was a hot mess 🫠😎. Thanks for playing! If you were mentioned, consider yourself tagggeedddddd. More under the cut ✁ (uh a bunch didn’t work and it made me delete a bunch so if you’re confused but were tagged and now it’s gone that’s cause Tumblr hates me today but you were tagged!)

Tagggiinnnggg @energievie @spookygingerr @michellemisfit

@mybrainismelted @blue-disco-lights

@heymrspatel @crestfallercanyon @guinguin1984 @doshiart @creepkinginc

@ian-galagher @stocious @transmurderbug @transsexual-dandelions @sgtmickeyslaughter

@ms-moonlight-inn @too-schoolforcool @callivich @gallawitchxx @gardenerian

@deathclassic @sandrashaine @sam-loves-seb @samantitheos @rereadanon

@romidoes @fireballazalea

@kiennilove @lazystargazy @echotrees @runninonemptyy @runawaybrainsc

@gallavich-annise h @mmmichyyy @kowhaifairy @sillygoofygoobersstuff @francesrose3

sorry if I missed you!!!

[aventurineswife]

I have a challenge for you :3

Write the most angsty thing possible for your current fav character!

I'm talking about hurt and NO COMFORT AT ALL. Could be unrequited feelings, MCD, whatever makes you cry the most!

Have fun :)

A Lost Bet

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Unrequited Love, Emotional Manipulation, Power Dynamics, Toxic Relationships, Betrayal, Emotional Hurt, Ambiguous Ending, Aventurine-centric.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, Themes of manipulation, Heartbreak, Unreciprocated feelings, Self-worth issues, Subtle references to past trauma, Heavy focus on emotional pain.

A/N: I probably could've come up with something else, but I remembered that I make you guys suffer nonetheless. My first-ever Aventurine fic was already traumatizing enough that someone actually wanted a second part (not angst ver of it ahaha) of it 🧍‍♀️. Welp, enjoy! 🫶💖

The air was thick with tension, the scent of luxury mingling with the bitter taste of regret. The grand hall of the IPC's high-rise echoed with the hushed whispers of the elite, but to you, the room might as well have been empty. The only thing that mattered was the cold weight of your heart, the hollow pit that seemed to grow larger with each passing moment.

Aventurine stood at the center, a commanding figure draped in his trademark elegance, his eyes flicking between his rivals with calculated precision. His smile, that all-too-perfect mask, never wavered. But you saw it—his hand, hidden behind his back, the subtle tremor that betrayed the façade.

"Another gamble," you thought bitterly. The same game, over and over again.

You watched him, and the truth settled in like a stone in your chest. He wasn’t playing with them. He was playing with you.

You had always admired his brilliance, his charm, his strategic genius. At first, it had been exciting—this dazzling, dangerous man who made life feel like a thrilling chessboard, where every move was calculated and every word was laced with meaning. But now... now, you couldn’t ignore the gnawing ache of your own helplessness. The way he looked at you, like you were one of his many pieces on the board—expendable, replaceable.

You thought you were special. You wanted to believe it, with all your heart. But that was before you understood his game, before you saw the way he treated his allies, his enemies, and you.

"Do you want to know how I can predict every move, every outcome, even before it happens?" Aventurine’s voice cut through the haze of your thoughts, and you were momentarily brought back to reality. He had approached you, his smile like a blade, his words deliberate, venomously sweet.

You looked up at him, trying to mask the pain with a smile that never quite reached your eyes. "Tell me," you replied, your voice distant, hollow.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "It’s simple. I don’t need to predict them. I make them happen. I control the game, every time."

Your breath hitched, and something inside you snapped. He controls everything. The thoughts, the words, the actions—all of it was part of a bigger plan. A plan where you were nothing but a mere spectator. Maybe a pawn, at best.

He stepped back, his gaze scanning the room, as if he had already moved on. "I'll let you in on a little secret," he continued, his voice smooth like silk. "The greatest risk is never losing. It’s letting someone else think they matter."

And then it hit you. That was the cruelest thing about him—he never truly let anyone matter. Not you. Not anyone.

You had never mattered to him, had you? Not in the way you had hoped. Not in the way you had wanted.

"You're not the first to think that," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. It took everything in you not to break. "But I suppose that’s part of your charm, isn't it?"

Aventurine’s smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. He never let his emotions show for long, but you saw it—something fleeting. Something that looked like... regret? No. It couldn’t be. Not from him. You’d never meant that much.

His hand slid away from his back, and for the briefest moment, you saw the glittering ring on his finger, the one that symbolized his control, his power. That was all he cared about, wasn’t it? Power. The gamble. The game. Not you. Never you.

You clenched your fists, the burning realization cutting deep. You had played his game long enough, believed in a love that was never there. And now? Now the cost was your soul.

Aventurine’s voice snapped you from your thoughts. "It’s a shame," he said, his tone shifting, colder now. "I really did think you might be the one to understand. But it seems you’re just like the rest."

The words stung, but you didn’t let him see it. Instead, you nodded, your heart already breaking into pieces. "Goodbye, Aventurine."

And just like that, the final gambit had been played. The stakes had been too high, and you were the one who had lost. He had already moved on.

As you turned away, you heard him speak one last time, his voice detached, as if addressing a passing thought.

“Don’t gamble with things you can’t afford to lose.”

Your steps echoed through the empty hallway, each one heavier than the last. You had been a fool, thinking he could ever love you. In his world, love was just another risk.

And in the end, you were nothing more than a lost bet.

[astraule]

"What I Want"

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader Song: You’re All I Want - Cigarettes After Sex “We fucked so hard it left me faded for all you are.” Tags: 18+, first time having sex, teasing, fingering, PIV, guiding you through it. Y/N: She/Her virgin reader. Word Count: 1.7 K Summary: Dean called out for you as you hid. You had agreed to a game of hide-and-seek to keep him busy, but he quickly found you and reassured you in his bedroom, telling you that everything would be taken slowly. Next morning, resting in his arms, Dean felt immense happiness seeing you as everything he wanted. When gently waking you up, you looked up at him with puffy eyes.

3RD POV: (Bunker Kitchen)

"Y/N~" Dean's voice called out as you squatted in the pantry of the kitchen. While Sam was out looking for a solution to bring Dean back to normal, it was your job to stay in the bunker to distract him, to keep him from getting out.

He suggested playing hide-and-seek; if you won, he would listen to every word you said. But if he won, you'd be at his beck and call. "Come out, come out, wherever you are~" His voice echoed in your mind, quickening your heartbeat.

The corridors had been silent for a full ten minutes; apprehension began to set in, had he left the bunker? You didn't have much time to spend in your hiding place, where you had firmly decided to go and find him. "Gotcha," Dean said, the silence now broken, right next to you.

“Dean." your voice caught as you swallowed hard. "Do you remember our little deal?" he asked, the corners of his lips twisting in a smile. "Dean, I'm begging you." You looked at the hand circling your wrist-soft and yet unyielding.

(Dean’s Bedroom)

"There's nothing to be afraid of,” Dean murmured, his form looming above you, "I assure you, I'll go slow." You had no idea what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to his little game earlier, but now the reality of the situation was beginning to sink in.

As his thumb delicately drew circles on your stomach beneath your shirt, your mind was racing with ways to divert him from whatever it was he had planned. "Dean, seriously. We both know this isn't right. Sam could walk in at any moment," you protested. "What does it matter? Sam will understand," he replied with a teasing grin.

Dean smirked, his hands roaming over your torso beneath your shirt, sending a shiver down your spine. "Come on, I know this is what you've been craving since the first time you met me, the real me. You think you're good at hiding it? The truth is, you want me." And he wasn't wrong; that desire was there since the moment you first saw him. Yet, deep inside, you wanted to share this moment when Dean was truly himself again.

For Dean as a demon, you were just another body to warm his bed, but you had to hold onto that hope that somehow, somewhere the real Dean really did have feelings for you. "Come on, baby, don't hold back." His voice cut through your internal musing as he tugged your shirt over your head. The cool air of the room cascading down your spine.

You took a deep breath, realizing you had made your choice. If this was what Dean wanted and it was what you wanted, why hold back? As you wrapped your arms around his neck, you whispered, "Just be gentle with me." His smirk returned, playful and knowing. "I would never hurt you, Y/N. Believe it or not, you mean a lot to me, the real me.”

Dean, as a demon, had this attitude that felt like the real Dean, but it wasn't really. For one thing, he didn't have an ounce of morality on him. It sounded weird when he said he cared about you. The real Dean always kept things close to his chest, and Dean as a demon did that too.

"Can you imagine how long the real me has fantasized about you? You drive the real me crazy, do you know that?" Dean broke the silence; his fingers dug into your torso and left white imprints that seemed to disappear right afterward.

"Why not treat ourselves a little?" He grinned, lifting your leg onto his shoulder and trailing soft kisses down from your knee to your ankle, leaving you breathless. "I could never resist you, Dean; irrelevant who you're playing at the moment," you replied, your hand over your chest.

As he carefully slid your leg off of his shoulder, peeling off his shirt at a very sweet pace, you couldn't help but catch your breath when he revealed his perfectly sculpted four-pack. Although Dean wasn't nearly as obsessive about working out as Sam was, it would be a gross mistake for anyone to say he wasn't in top physical form.

He refocused on you, his hands sliding down your slender figure and finding their way to the softer curve of your stomach, where your uterus lay. "So soft, I love it," Dean muttered, leaning down to nip at that exact spot his hands had touched a moment before. The bite marked and slightly puckered.

“Dean, please," you whispered, your fingers gliding to his face, gently guiding him to meet your gaze. "Show me just how much you want me." A playful smirk danced across his lips as he made his way down, peeling your shorts away from your body along with your panties.

Dean smiled softly, his voice soothing as he said, "There's no rush, sweetheart. We can savor every moment." His fingers explored your warmth, which elicited a surprised gasp that you quickly stifled. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about," he reassured you, gently taking your wrists and guiding your hands above your head. "Dean…" you murmured, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. This wasn't how you had pictured your first time feeling like.

"Everything will be alright, love. You'll get used to it soon enough." He consoled, placing a gentle peck on your forehead that made your heart flutter with a tiny bit of comfort before his fingers started delving inside you once again, prompting you to close your eyes instinctively.

Dean leaned in closer, and against your ear, his warm breath whispered, "I gotcha, sweetheart. Just trust me and let go." His fingers continued to move deep inside you, a teasing prelude that sent a shiver down your spine, heightening your nerves for what was about to happen.

His fingers tormented you for what felt like hours, as you held on to the pillow, your wrists clasped tightly by him. He finally withdrew his fingers and brought them up to his lips, making sure to lick them off while staring intently at you.

Suddenly, you were filled with his hot, pulsating length, not even realizing when he had undone his jeans. As he released your wrists and placed his hands beside your head, your back involuntarily arched off the bed. Your arms clasped his neck again, holding him as if he was your anchor in the storm.

He wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close to him while his other hand clutched the pillow beside your head. "I gotcha, sweetheart," he assured you. "Dean…," you whimpered, tears streaming down your face from the burning pain.

As he started moving inside you with the most delicate touch, more tears streamed down your face. "Shhh, you're doing great, love," he said in a whisper, pressing soft kisses against your cheeks where the tears fell, even as your cries grew loud. "It hurts," you whispered, your nails digging deep into his back leaving deep marks, which made him gasp in pain amidst his heavy breaths.

He whispered to you, "Trust me, you'll be feeling great in no time. Just let your body relax." As he loosened his hold on your back, he leaned in, pressing you against the mattress. Before you knew it, your tears turned to whimpering, then to moans that came deep from within, as your breathing grew quicker by the second. A smug smile spread across Dean's face as his thrusts quickened, slight groans escaping his lips.

You gasped, "Dean," your eyes fluttering as a wave of pleasure washed over you. "There’s the reaction I love," Dean replied, his lips teasing at your neck. His thrusts came faster, full of a desperate intensity, making the bed creak and sway beneath you.

You were so sure the bed was going to break under the noises it was making and from Dean's pace. You could only hold on to him, soft moans escaping your lips while silently hoping he’d protect you if the bed did come undone. "I've got you, don't worry," he reassured you as if his brain picked up your thought waves. He then captured your lips with his, your tongues dancing together while you both let out a symphony of moans and groans.

Your eyes suddenly widened, and your head leaned back, your lips breaking away from the kiss as an intense sensation began to rise up inside of you. Dean caught on in a second; a smirk began to spread across his face as he teased, "Go ahead, darling, let it all out. Show me just how good I make you feel." Before you could utter anything in return, you found yourself enveloping him with your warmth.

"Dean…," you panted, hoping he'd pick up on the cue as he slowed down, but then you saw that sneer creeping back onto his face as he sped up again. "No… it’s too much," you whined, your eyes fluttering shut as more pleasure washed over you. "I'm not there yet," Dean whispered softly in your ear.

Dean POV: (Next Morning)

As Y/N rested in my arms, her arm slung across my chest, and her leg thrown over my waist, I couldn't help but smile. She was everything that the real me had always longed for, and I was desperate to fill this want. If there was even the slightest chance that the real me could emerge from the depths of my soul, then I wanted him to have her by his side.

As I stroked her bare back, soothing her, she stirred a little in her sleep. "Hm. so warm," she murmured, still lost in her dream. I couldn't help but wonder, ‘Have humans always been this adorable?’ as she snuggled up to me closer. "Y/N, it's time to wake up," I whispered softly, running my fingers through her hair which made her flutter her eyes open.

"Dean…" she whispered, looking up at me with eyes a little red from the night before, and it stabbed me in the heart like an arrow. "I really am so sorry I hurt you, love; you just felt so good." I said, kissing the crown of her head softly, and she sighed happily.

She whispered, "I don't have the feeling in my legs," as her cheeks flushed a soft pink, and that made me chuckle soft and low. "No need to worry," I replied, lifting her effortlessly in a bridal carry, the blanket still wrapped around her. "How about I run you a nice bath, okay?"

I was literally kicking my feet and giggling while I put this together! In a previous post, I mentioned that TikTok was down in the U.S., which meant I'd be writing more frequently than just once a month. Well, guess what? It's back up and running! But don't fret, I don't think I'll be spending as much time on TikTok as I used to, so I will try my hardest to keep the writing flowing.

[cayleeuhithinknott]

introducing. . .sweetheart!matt X shy!reader

╰┈➤ SWEETHEART!MATT. . .

¡! ❛ the day after you stole my heart, everything i touched told me it would be better shared with you. ❜ fire and the thud, arctic monkeys.

¡! gentle. thoughtful. the kind of guy who remembers the little things about you. always makes sure you’re comfortable before himself. quietly confident but never cocky. big on words of affirmation. acts tough in front of others, but turns to mush when it’s just you two. the king of forehead kisses and soft smiles. protective but never overbearing. a sucker for your laugh and will do anything to hear it. loves physical touch, especially when you’re (rarely) the one initiating. occasionally stubborn but always willing to apologize first. the kind of boyfriend who carries your bag without you asking. loves lazy mornings spent tangled up with you. “if you’re happy, i’m happy.”

╰┈➤ SHY!READER (MAPLE). . .

¡! ❛ careful creature, made friends with time. left her lonely with a diamond mind. ❜ ocean eyes, billie eillish.

¡! soft-spoken. thoughtful. easily flustered. prefers cozy nights in over loud nights out. more likely to observe than speak, but when you do, your words carry weight. finds joy in the small things—fresh flowers, handwritten notes, a favorite book. sentimental to a fault. carries a quiet elegance and warmth that draws people in. loves physical touch but with very few people. introverted but deeply caring; you’d do anything for the people you love. struggles with confrontation but has an inner strength that surprises even you sometimes. loves soft sweaters, rainy days, and stealing a moment of peace in a busy world. “um…i was thinking…well—no, nevermind. it’s probably dumb…”

───── ⋆⋅ꨄ⋅⋆ ─────

NOTHING MATTERS BUT YOU, madison beer.

❛ i don’t know how i survived before i met you.

watching you through glassy eyes, sinkin’ into blue. ❜

───── ⋆⋅ꨄ⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: hey!! ive had this idea for a while now! but its not very complex so if someone has already done this please lmk so i can tell them i didnt just copy them😭 ANYWAY IM EXCITED FOR THIS SO SEND REQS AND ASKS ABOUT THEM!!!! LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @slctsblogana @emely9274

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

[writingdevil]

Hii! Hewwo!!! Finally got the courage and an idea to get here haha. First of all I wanted to thank you for Tongues and Teeth. Like, really, big thanks. This fic got me through a pretty bad illness, and I found myself waiting for every new chapter. And, well, of course, it was an indirect reason for me even being here... I really enjoyed reacting on your fic in tags, and that, in fact, gave me the courage and impuls to post my own stuff. As for a prompt... Slay the Princess is happening at night, but rarely someone appreciated the stars. But they still were there. And in post-Tongues and Teeth they are there, too. I just thought it would be interesting to touch some voices' feelings and opinions when they are just stargazing. It could be about any voice really, or any group of voices, maybe you'll even explore them all - I would love to see it anyway :> Have a great day!!!

(Oh my God,you're so sweet!Thank you for liking my fic that much-I never expected people to actually be invested in my story.I'm really sorry that you were going through that illness,but I'm so touched that my story helped you get through it.I always love seeing your reaction to my fics-it's one of the things I look forward too!I love your idea and I hope you enjoy this,and that you have an amazing day!)

(This is post Tongues and Teeth)

It wasn't often that Contrarian liked to be still.He much preferred to be doing something that pissed one of the others-mainly Oppy-off.He liked keeping everyone on their toes,not knowing what he was about to do next-and no,he's definitely still not bitter from Oppy calling him predictable.Why would you think that?

But tonight,Contrarian was honestly happy to just relax with his flock,and stargaze with them all.

He couldn't remember who's idea it had been, probably one of the softer ones like Hero or Smitten,but eventually they all found themselves sitting out on the roofs of their bird houses at night, gazing up at the stars.

Contrarian never noticed how pretty the night sky was.Or did he ever even get the chance to,back in the Construct?Either way,it was nice to just chill out,take it easy,and look up at the stars-

"I don't see the appeal of this."

Well,not everyone felt the same way.

Contrarian chuckled,looking down at Cold,who was lying on his back and staring up at the sky in boredom.Cold hadn't seen the point in stargazing, but had still allowed Contrarian to drag him up here,and he had been silent ever since.

Contrarian had a feeling that Cold wouldn't particularly like this one activity,even if everyone had come out.He leaned back on his hands and asked,"No?You don't think the stars are interesting and cool to look at?"

"They're lights in the sky."

"Yeah,but do you think they're pretty?"Cold hummed in thought,before looking away as he replied,"You could certainly call them mesmerizing, if you were poetic enough."Contrarian snorted, knowing for a fact that Smitten has definitely described the stars as exactly that before.

"Mesmerizing doesn't equal interesting though," Cold quickly added,and Contrarian sighed,sitting up properly to tuck his knees under his chin."Yeah,I thought you'd say that,"he said,hoping to hide his disappointment in his voice.

He wasn't sure if Cold caught it or not,but he shrugged and looked back up at the sky."It was nice for a few minutes,but it doesn't make me feel much."

"Well not everything has to be about feeling something grand and overwhelming."He caught the flash of surprise on Cold's face,and then Contrarian's smile fell into a regretful frown.

This felt like a weird conversation to have,especially considering that himself and Cold were the known mischief makers of the flock.Contrarian just liked to do things that were fun,and his realm of fun had gotten a whole lot bigger now that they had their own bodies.

Cold was in that same boat,in which he could freely got out and find things to do that could potentially get rid of that numbness in his chest.The two of them spent most of their days discovering every fun thing that they couldn't before,not with that annoying Echo keeping them trapped.

He glanced back down at Cold,only to find him staring up at the sky with an empty look in his eyes. To anyone else,you would think that that was just Cold's natural expression,but Contrarian's been around him long enough to pick up the slight bitterness in his eyes,and he immediately felt bad.

He knew Cold had trouble with going about life without wanting something to make him feel something.He knew that in some ways-getting their own bodies had been harder to achieve that, because now Cold was responsible for everything that his body did.

What he chose to do,to hear,to experience,was all up to him,and sometimes his body and mind couldn't handle it.But the only reason it was difficult,was because the Decider wasn't here anymore.It was easier to want to feel something new,and block out anything that he deemed unimportant,when the situation involved whether to slay another person or not,and the horrifying consequences of it-all while hiding behind another greater being.

Contrarian sighed,then looked around at the other houses near them,and said,"I know this isn't your usual brand of fun and excitement."Cold just hummed in response,still not looking at him."But I think taking a moment to chill and relax is nice too."

"Easy for you to say,"Cold said,"you can be entertained by anything,and boredom can be easily fixed.You're not as...rigid as I am."Contrarian shrugged,looking back up at the stars."You never know until you try."

Cold huffed in quiet amusement,and Contrarian watched as his wings twitched and spread out and in-a surefire way to tell that Cold was getting restless,and was about to leave.

But Contrarian didn't want him to go.He wanted to be able to enjoy the loud and the quiet moments with Cold,without Cold feeling like it was pointless.

So he squinted up at the starry sky,until he grinned playfully,scooting closer and leaning down to whisper into Cold's ear.He pointed up at the sky and quietly said,"You know,if you squint,you can kinda see Skeptic's grumpy face in the sky."

Cold was confused for a few seconds,before he chuckled lightly,and Contrarian grinned in victory. Cold now had a soft smile on his face as he gazed up at the sky."You'll turn anything into a joke,won't you?"

Contrarian giggled,leaning away from the other bird now."Yeah,why not?Nothing's fun if everything's so serious all the time."

"But eventually even clowns get tired at telling jokes all the time."

Contrarian froze at Cold's empty words,before quickly turning to face him,and his heart twisted in guilt-something that didn't happen a lot,at the subtle sad look on Cold's face.

He thought Contrarian was getting bored of his own ways?He thought that stargazing meant that he was getting dull?

Contrarian would be offended if he didn't think this wasn't deeply hurting Cold,no matter how much the icy one would try to deny it.He thought that he was losing the one flockmate that could understand the way he thought and operated, leaving him an outcast in his own flock.

That wouldn't do.

Contrarian sighed loudly,then casually threw an arm over Cold's shoulders,which meant that his body was half bent down to even manage that,and even then,his arm was actually just circling the top of Cold's head.

He stayed in that position for a few minutes,until Cold eventually asked,"What are you doing?"

"I'm just-taking the moment in."

There was a small pause,before Cold then asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well,"Contrarian began,"it's such a nice night out, and it's rare that we're all doing something that isn't eating or having a meeting.I just wanted to take this moment in."

"Why would you bother with 'taking it in'?You could have moments like these all the time,and they'll just replace the last memory."

"Yeah,"Contrarian agreed,"but nothings gonna beat the first time you went stargazing with your whole flock." There was a fondness in Contrarian's voice that had Cold looking up at him curiously,but Contrarian took that moment to look up and around at the rest of his flock.

"There's just something-special,about moments like these,and it makes you want to stay there for as long as possible."

Contrarian's gaze went straight to Hero,who was giggling as he watched Hunted preen Stubborn's wings,and the preening appeared to be making Stubborn sleepy,to the point that he was struggling to keep his eyes open while laying on his chest. Hero smiled at them fondly,and started to pet the feathers on Stubborn's head.

Contrarian smiled at the sight,then his gaze drifted to the far left of them,where Smitten and Skeptic seemed to be utterly transfixed by the display of stars in the sky.Contrarian watched as Smitten excitedly pointed up at the sky,blurting out what was sure to be some sappy,poetic mess,looking over at Skeptic with pure glee in his eyes.

Skeptic actually looked quite calm and relaxed in this moment,matching Smitten's passion with a more calmer enthusiasm,gesturing up at the night sky and talking just as much as his counterpart was.

It was funny to imagine the conversation they must be having-a mix of lovey-dovey mush and innocent curiosity-but it also sounded very sweet.

"What's the point of dragging out something special?"Cold asked,"It's just going to make the moment boring more quickly."Contrarian made a noise of uncertainty."I don't think so.There's always something interesting to pick out."

He glanced over at their right,where Paranoid and Oppy were huddled close,talking quietly to themselves-probably the most unexpected and fascinating friendship to come out of this whole thing.

Paranoid-or Jitters,as Oppy loved to call him-was hugging himself for comfort,and had an anxious look in his eye as he spoke to Oppy,who was giving him his full attention,completely ignoring the illuminating sky above them.

Then Oppy smiled,in a way that Contrarian knew was hard for the other to easily do without fear,and softly draped his wing around Paranoid's shoulders, who's tense body instantly melted at the gesture, face wiped clean of stress,as he instead smiled and gave Oppy a grateful look.

Contrarian's attention was quickly snatched by the duo not too far away from them-Broken and Cheated.Broken had tucked his knees under his chin and looked to be in complete awe at the stars above him,and Contrarian wondered if he had found a new love to worship and submit to.

But then he saw the way that Cheated's attention was in no way on the stars-but instead on Broken. He was resting his arm on his knee,his cheek in his hand,and he had the most fond and lovestruck look that Contrarian has ever seen-that he truly believed that Cheated could give Smitten a run for his money.

He giggled and finally looked back down at Cold, who didn't seem so upset anymore,but instead was struggling to understand Contrarian's words."I don't get it,"he finally admitted,and Contrarian made a quick,sweeping gesture at their flock and said,"I'm just saying that-maybe this moment isn't for right now."

"What?"

Contrarian sat up properly again,and Cold was quick to copy him,determined to understand. Contrarian looked back up at the twinkling stars and said,"Maybe this moment is purely to look back on,to remember the soft times that made you happy.Maybe-maybe these are moments to make you feel warm in the future,whatever that may be."

Contrarian quickly glanced at Cold,suddenly feeling embarrassed at having talked so much without it sounding like a joke."I-I just like the thought of that as well.At being able to sit still,and still have good memories to look back on,with the rest of you weirdos."

He refused to look back at Cold,just waiting for the other to poke fun at or dismiss what he said.He couldn't decide what would be worse.

But then Cold hummed softly,scooting closer to nudge him with his wing."I suppose,"he quietly said, and Contrarian risked a quick look,"that you can sort of see Skeptic's grumpy face."

Contrarian froze,before he burst out laughing,and he even heard Cold's light laughter join in.

It ended being a perfect memory for Contrarian to cherish forever.