#I normally never take pictures like this off my outfits...

[scribes-of-valar]

𝘉𝘰𝘺'𝘴 𝘢 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘳

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ x fem! reader

「 ✦ A/N ✦ 」 I don't know what has creeped into my brain, but I've started rewatching the show and I literally wrote this in a day.

✬ summary ✬ Finally taking the plunge and ruining your friendship with Clark, you go on your first date but the next day he's acting like a whole new man. Not a good one. You don't know if your relationship can recover from his cruel behavior, but he's not going to give up so easily.

For the nth time, you stand before your mirror and find yourself dissatisfied. No outfit is right, each one is too little, too much, too slutty, not slutty enough. You haven’t even started on shoes yet, you would be in the grave before you were ready for this date. Throwing yourself down on your desk chair, you start tugging the stockings down your legs. 

You’re not sure why you thought tights would work during the peak of a Kansas summer, but you’re clearly not thinking much at all today. Head propped in your hand, you slump against the edge of your desk, fingers running idly over the scattered makeup on the surface. Even that hasn't gone right, your normal safeties failing you when you need them most. 

Maybe this was all a sign from the universe. You and Clark have been friends since you could walk, what if this stupid date was going to ruin everything between you?

Sighing, you reach for the only framed picture in your room. It’s silly, something Martha took when you were both too busy playing to see her. You and Clark, freshly five, sit around your old purple play table, the both of you covered in glitter and rocking some of the biggest tutus you’ve ever seen. You’re yelling at him in the picture, probably telling him to put his pinky up when he drinks his tea, and he’s just grinning at you.

It’s funny how that smile never changed. Something warm unfurls and blooms in your chest the longer you look at the picture. It’s Clark, he doesn’t care what you wear or if you’ve put on makeup or not. You both loved each other long before that was ever a problem, and it’s not going to start being one now. 

Sucking in a deep breath you put on the first outfit you’d picked out, a simple white sundress. You rarely get to wear it, anyway. Might as well test it out now. You check the mirror one last time just as someone knocks on your bedroom door. 

Clark calls out your name on the other side, sounding hesitant. “Sorry, um,” he chuckles and you can picture the way he must be nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I got here a little early.”

You dart away from the mirror, kicking all the clothes under your bed. You slide the makeup into your desk drawer to be dealt with later. For now, you just need to make sure that he doesn’t see what a hot mess your room is. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you tug the hem of your dress down and shake off your worries. This is Clark. Your Clarkie, the boy you’ve tormented since you were a toddler. There’s nothing to worry about. 

“You’re always early, Clark,” you tell him with a soft smile as you open the door. 

His eyes widen slightly as he looks down at you. You did purposefully pick a dress that would emphasize certain aspects of yours. The pink flush on his cheeks is entirely worth it. Your eyes are drawn to the bunch of flowers in his hand and you grin. “Are those for me?” You gush, opening your door wider for him to step inside. 

“Yeah,” he holds them out to you, blue eyes stuck on yours. “I thought you might like them.” You bring them closer to your face, taking in the faint scent of the roses. 

“I love them, thank you,” you find yourself unable to stop smiling as you drop the roses in a glass of water by your bed. After building up your hopes and anxieties for a week because of this date, you're struggling to calm yourself down. 

Turning, you find him already looking at you with a soft smile that calms your racing heart just a bit. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a while,” he tells you, taking a step closer to you. His hands find your own, pulling you into him. “Not just the date,” he amends, smile stretching wider. “Asking you out. I think our friends were getting sick of listening to me talk about you all the time.”

You laugh, “I think they were getting sick of both of us. I feel so oblivious that it took me so long to realize you felt the same way.” 

He huffs, though his tone remains good-natured, “How do you think I feel?”

“Well,” you lace your fingers with his and step closer, “we’re doing it now, that’s what matters.” He ducks down and you feel your breath stutter, but he only leaves a brief kiss on your cheek, pulling back with a sheepish expression. A gentleman through and through. 

You’d never thought that knowing Clark for as well and as long as you have could be a bad thing. But now, sitting in The Talon and awkwardly dipping your fries in ketchup just to have something to do, you’re starting to realize it is. Being with each other nearly every day leaves you wanting for conversation. You both are already so caught up on what’s going on in each other’s lives that you’re struggling not to just bring up the weather. 

Clark groans and you startle, the noise breaking through the thick silence between you. He leans back in the booth, head resting on the edge and you find your eyes drawn to the strong muscles of his neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. 

Clearing your throat you glance away from him and push your plate away. “I didn’t want it to be like this,” Clark mutters, more to himself than you, but you hear him anyway. 

“It’s, well,” you pause, struggling for the words. Letting out a self-deprecating laugh, you shake your head. “I just don’t know what to do when we’re like this,” he peeks an eye open and you gesture between the two of you. 

His lips quirk up and he straightens once more. “I feel like I should be able to talk to you, same as always. But I don't know what to say, I don’t want to risk messing this up.” He trails off, glancing away from you and swallowing roughly. The same dreaded panic you’ve been feeling all week is thick in his voice. 

“Clark,” you utter his name lowly, reaching your hand out across the table. He’s slow to meet your eyes. “I feel the same way. We’re being stupid because I know that nothing you could say is going to change how I feel about you.” You narrow your eyes, taking on a teasing tone, “And you better feel the same way,” you scold. 

He huffs out a laugh, larger hand enveloping yours entirely and squeezing gently, “You know I do.”

You shrug, “Then we’re just being stupid, again,” you add, rolling your eyes. 

His eyes light up with mischief, a smile spreading as he stands from his seat. You jump back slightly, surprised by the sudden movement. “I’ve got an idea, come on,” he holds his hand out and you take it once more. 

You let out a surprised laugh as he takes off, dragging you out of the Talon behind him. “Where are we going?” 

He pauses for a moment, looking over his shoulder at you. It awes you, just how handsome he is. “It’s a surprise,” he winks and tugs you closer. 

“Your surprise is… the school?” You frown, taking Clark’s hand as he helps you down from the truck. 

“No,” he defends, shooting you a sarcastic look as he closes the door behind you. “We’re sneaking onto the field, like we used to. Maybe a little jog down memory lane will help,” he gives you a cheesy smile and you feel like you might melt.  

The sun hangs low on the horizon, its fading golden hues painting the sky in soft oranges and purples. The light catches in Clark’s hair, casting a warm halo around him. Sometimes he seems so overwhelmingly perfect that you wonder if you’ll ever be enough for him. Even when you were beginning to give up hope, he comes up with something so sweet, so thoughtful, that all you want to do is kiss him. 

Swallowing down the urge, you place your hand in his and let him lead you around the side of the school. “You know, we only used to do this to mess with the football players,” you tease. “Hard to do when you’re on the team, Clarkie.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Hey, we can still tear the seams on their jerseys- just not mine.” He throws you a grin, and it sends a rush of warmth through your chest.

The familiar path behind the school is darker now, but your steps fall in sync like muscle memory. The fence around the field looms ahead, a little more daunting than normal. It’s harder to climb in your dress, but Clark gives you a boost. One so strong you nearly fly over. 

Landing with a huff, you turn to glare at him as he pulls himself over with ease. “Too much torque in the thrust, Clark,” you grumble, brushing off your hands. 

He chuckles, throwing an arm over your shoulders as you both step onto the field. “Come on, we should get down there before the sun’s gone.”

Dew from the grass seeps its way into the thin fabric of your shoes as you walk toward the center of the field. The bleachers stand empty, the goalposts stretch high into the deepening sky, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you can take a breath. 

Clark shrugs off his jacket, laying it out on the grass and motioning for you to sit. You hesitate for a moment, but then you look down at the white fabric of your dress and decide you’re okay with sacrificing Clark’s jacket.

Clark lowers himself beside you, leaning back on his palms as he gazes up at the sky. The last streaks of sunlight fade, and one by one, the stars blink to life above you. You’ve always thought the sky above Smallville was different than anywhere else. As if the stars were reaching out to you. Considering your track record with meteors, it doesn’t seem that far off. 

For a while, neither of you speak. The quiet is comfortable, not at all like the stilted silence you’d felt in the diner. You’re content just being here with him, under the vast, endless sky. 

Clark is the first to break the peace. He shifts beside you, drawing in a slow breath as he disrupts the silence. “I’ve,” he hesitates on the word, “cared about you for a long time,” he admits, voice low and steady. “Longer than I ever told you.”

You glance over at him and find his gaze fixed on the stars. His jaw is tense, like he’s bracing himself for you to tell him this was all one big mistake and you’re better off as friends. A smile pulls at your lips at the ridiculous thought and you reach toward the small space between you both. Placing your hand over his, he finally looks at you. 

“I know things are,” he pauses, “a little weird between us right now.” He looks at your hand and flips his palm so he can lace your fingers together. “But I don’t want to lose what we have. If you’re willing to make it work, I am too.”

Your heart stutters, and for a moment all you can do is stare at him. At the boy who’s always been there, the boy who, despite everything, still makes your heart race. Your smile spreads, “Of course I’m willing,” you whisper. 

His breath hitches, and then he grins, the same grin that will never fail to make you lightheaded with infatuation.

Clark was meant to be here an hour ago. You’d made plans to go to a screening of some old movies at the theater. Sitting on the steps of your front porch, head propped in your hand, you look out at the farmlands around you. He only lives a few minutes away from you, you can’t fathom why he would be so late. 

You’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt, he’s not the type of guy to just leave you hanging. But there’s something humiliating about sitting out here all on your own. The wind has already fussed and ruined the hairstyle you’d so meticulously worked on. You’d already missed half of one of the movies. And the sun is beginning to set. 

Part of you is begging to just go inside and give up, but you're more stubborn half won't give in. Clark isn't like this, he wouldn't do something like this without good reason. 

A rumble sounds down the highway and your head perks up, crestfallen look replaced with something more hopeful. Getting to your feet, you grimace at the pins and needles tingling down your legs. Walking down the steps and getting a good look at the approaching motorcycle, your stomach plummets. 

Not Clark, then, though it’s odd to see someone beside you or the Kent’s driving on this stretch of road. Your hand tightens around the hem of your tank top as the motorcycle begins to slow as it approaches your house. Heart picking up, you take a step back toward the safety of the porch. 

Maybe they just need directions or maybe…

Your brain breaks for a moment as the rider pulls into your driveway. 

Maybe they’re Clark. 

Your jaw drops as he shoots you a smarmy grin, getting off his father’s bike and striding toward you with a swagger you’re unused to. “Hiya, sweetheart." You take a step back from him, brows furrowed. 

“Clark,” you spit his name out in shock, eyes darting between him and the bike. Knowing that he’s not dying somewhere in a ditch, your anger at being left waiting surges forth. “You’re an hour late because you were busy stealing your dad’s bike?” You demand, trying to ignore just how good he looks leaning against the post of your porch in that ridiculous leather jacket. 

“Sure,” he chuckles and rolls his eyes, brushing past you and heading back to the bike. “That’s why,” he snaps, like you’re slow. He straddles the bike and nods you forward. “You coming or not?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you glance between him and the front door of your house. Again, giving him the benefit of the doubt, you choose to get on the back of the bike. Maybe this is all just one big act that he’s putting on to surprise you with something at the theater. 

He turns the key and you frown, “Helmet?” You ask weakly. He doesn’t respond, just laughs and peels out of your driveway. You squeal, grabbing on tight to his waist and burying your face in his back. 

This isn’t an act, and this definitely isn’t Clark. But whoever he is, you just got on the back of his motorcycle like an idiot. 

With every turn and rev of the bike, you prepare to feel the pavement beneath your palms. Still, as reckless and nauseating as his driving is, he manages to get you here in one piece. Though, where here is, you’re not sure. 

Clark swings off the bike effortlessly, grinning over his shoulder at a group of girls walking into the building behind him. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, about the way your hands still tremble from the ride. You’d been too busy clutching onto him for dear life to pay any attention to where you were going and you’re starting to regret it. 

The building is nothing more than dirtied brick, the faded neon sign above the door advertising beer and live music. The bass thumps from inside, vibrating the gravel beneath your feet. From within, you hear jeering shouts, the telltale sounds of a crowd on the verge of chaos.

“Clark,” despite his odd behavior, you still find yourself stepping toward him and holding tight to his hand. The sheltered life of Smallville hasn’t exactly prepared you for backwoods, seedy bars. “Where are we?” You peer up at him and the glint in his eyes makes your stomach clench with trepidation. 

“Oh,” he laughs, tugging you toward the entrance, “you’re gonna like this,” he swears. Despite the way you dig your heels into the dirt, he keeps pulling, giving you no choice but to follow him into the bar. 

The air changes as you step inside, it’s worse than you thought it would be. Thick with heat and smoke, it pulses with the heavy bass of a song you don’t recognize. Multicolored lights flash across the writhing bodies on the dance floor. The scent of spilled beer, sweat, and something sticky clings to the air. 

Your fingers tighten around Clark’s arm as he moves forward, practically wrapping yourself around him. He weaves through the crowd like he belongs here. If you let go now, you know he wouldn’t stop, he’d just keep going, leaving you all alone in a place you want no part of.  

Clark drags you to the edge of the bar and slips a crumpled twenty across the counter. Wordlessly, and without checking for IDs, the bartender slides over two beers. Clark grabs one and to your utter shock, tilts it back, downing one long gulp. 

“You gonna stand there watching me,” he challenges, “or are you finally going to let loose and have some fun?”

“No, Clark, I’m not drinking. And neither should you! You’re driving us back,” you snap, eyes darting around the seedy crowd. 

Settling the half-empty bottle on the counter, he smirks, “Relax. We’re here to have a good time,” his tone almost sounds like a threat. Have a good time or else…

His gaze flickers toward the dance floor and your heart sinks at the mischief in his expression. “And I know exactly how to help you loosen up.”

Again, he gives you no time to protest or even form an opinion before he grabs you and pulls you toward the center of the dance floor. You feel like a leashed dog, no choice but to obey. 

The music shifts into something darker, slower, a sultry beat thrumming through the air. It charges the atmosphere of the dancers and the crowd sways, bodies pressed tightly together as they move with the rhythm. 

“Clark,” you glance around at the writhing bodies and swallow thickly. “I don’t-”

“Just one dance,” he cuts you off smoothly, voice low and coaxing. His lips curl up in a gentle smile as his hands find your waist. His grip is tight but not uncomfortable as he helps move your hips into the rhythm of the song. “Trust me.”

You hesitate, but it’s easier than you thought to simply fall into the slow, lazy grind of the dance. Your body moves in sync with his, despite the apprehension tightening through you. There’s something wrong with him, that’s clear enough. This isn’t the Clark you know, this is some bold, almost predatory version of him. 

One of his hands drifts up from your waist, dragging the hem of your thin tank top up slightly as his fingers brush against the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine as his grip tightens, tilting your head back. You press your hands against his chest, eyes rounding in confusion. 

“Clark,” you whisper his name, breathless from the proximity. “What are you-”

He cuts you off, voice rough and breath warm against your lips, “Finally taking what I want.” His head dips down, lips capturing your own. It’s not the soft, gentle first kiss you’d always imagine you would share with him. This is hard, demanding. 

He’s claiming you, marking his territory as he slips his hand lower on your waist. He pulls you flush against him, hips pressing against yours. A heat slowly spreads in you, but it's overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling that this isn’t Clark. 

You push against his chest and you know he lets you go, the situation still under his control. He backs off with an irritated look, eyes narrowed down at you. 

Your breath comes in quick, uneven gasps as you stare up at him. “What the hell, Clark?”

“What’s your problem?” He snaps, hand flexing around your neck before dropping to his side. 

“You,” you hiss, eyes narrowing. “You’re not yourself, Clark.”

His jaw tenses, fists clenching by his side as he takes a step back from you. “Why? Because I’m finally doing what I want?” His voice is sharp, it bites at the fraying edges of your patience. The music around you picks up pace and somebody slams into you from behind. 

With a pained gasp, you stumble forward, rubbing the sore spot where their elbow had slammed into your ribs. Clark watches it all with a bored look. Gone is the gentle, considerate boy you’ve known your whole life. This boy before you is reckless and selfish, you don’t want anything to do with him. 

His attention flickers past you and you turn to follow his gaze. A pretty blonde sways in the middle of the dance floor, hips moving gracefully as her laughter rings above the music. Without a word or a second glance, he steps around you, striding toward her with the same effortless confidence he just used on you. 

Frozen by disbelief and anger, you watch as he slides a hand around her waist, murmuring something in her ear that makes her giggle. The crowd shifts again, blocking your view of the two. It’s for the better as you suck in sharp breaths, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

A lump clogs your throat and you rush toward the back of the bar, hoping there might be a bathroom to hide in. You just need a second away from the sweat and noise of the dancers. You stumble through a stained door and slam it closed behind you, wiping desperately at the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

After splashing cold water over your face and simply standing in there for a few minutes, you finally feel stable enough to go back outside. You’re just going to ask Clark to take you home and then you hope you never have to see him again. 

But when you return to the dance floor, heart still pounding its way up your throat, you can’t find Clark. You can’t even find the blonde. He’s acting like a jackass, but there’s no way he would just leave you. 

Right?

You rush outside, your stomach dropping like a stone when you see the parking lot. The motorcycle is gone. 

He left you behind. 

“Thank you,” your gaze stays trained on your hands, not ready to look at Lex. You feel his stare boring into the side of your head before he turns back to the road. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad you called me instead of trying to get home on your own.” He pauses, hand tightening on the steering wheel as he takes in a deep breath. “But what were you doing in a place like that?”

You slump in the passenger seat, rubbing a tired hand over your face. All you want to do is go home and wash this night away. You’re hesitant to tell him the truth, knowing he might give Clark hell for leaving you there. A part of you is still primed to protect him, but the other part, the one that was just left behind, can’t care. 

“Clark,” you tell him and his head whips around so fast you’re surprised you don't hear it snap. “He was acting weird tonight. Took me there and then left with another girl.”

“Are you serious?” He demands, sounding angry on your behalf. Right now, though, you don’t have the energy for anger. “Clark wouldn’t do that.”

You suck in a deep breath and finally look at him, “The one I know wouldn’t,” you offer vaguely, ignoring his confused expression. “Honestly, I just want to get home and never talk to him again.”

Lex chuckles a little, “You don’t mean that.”

“Try me,” you snap, glaring out the window. You’re debating calling Clark’s dad and telling him that Clark took the bike. If not just for petty revenge. Just the thought of it makes you feel tired. 

“I’m sure,” Lex starts, already sounding like he doesn’t believe himself, “he had a perfectly reasonable explanation for what he did.” You roll your eyes, giving him a deadpan look. His hand lifts slightly off the wheel in surrender. “There’s no excuse,” he amends.

“No, there’s not.” The car rolls to a stop and you look out the window, surprised to already be at your house. The porch light is off, your parents must already be asleep. “I really can’t thank you enough,” you tell Lex, offering him a weak but grateful smile. 

He waves you off, “Forget it, I’m glad I could help. If you ever need anything else…” He trails off, leaving the offer open-ended. 

You nod, opening the passenger door and stepping out. You’re just about to close it when something occurs to you. Clark always gives you a ride to school, you’re not going to have a way to get there after tonight. 

“Oh,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation. 

“What’s wrong?” Lex looks concerned and you offer him an apologetic grimace. 

“I actually do need something,” you tell him, sheepish and pleading. 

Clark wakes up with a fog clouding his mind, a dull pounding behind his eyes. Vague flashes of memory flicker through the haze. The sound of your upset voice, the thrum of music, and the feeling of your body pressed against his. It makes his cheeks flush with warmth, but none of it connects for him. Everything’s one frustrating blur. 

But he can figure that out later, his gaze drifts toward the clock on his nightstand and his eyes widen. He leaps off the bed, nearly tripping as he gets wrapped up in his sheets. He was meant to pick you up ten minutes ago. 

Clark throws on the first clothes he finds, raking a hand through his messy hair as he bolts down the stairs. His backpack is nearly left by the door as he rushes out. If he could, he’d run you to school. It would be so much faster, so much easier. But that would require explaining why he could do that, and he doesn’t think you’d appreciate him springing the truth of his abilities on you this early in the morning. 

You’re not exactly a morning person. 

He speeds down the road, the truck’s tires kicking up dust as he pulls into your driveway. Throwing the truck in park he doesn’t even bother cutting the engine before leaping out. Two steps at a time, he bounds up your front porch and knocks firmly on the door. 

His foot taps against the wood of the porch as he checks the watch on his wrist. If you hurry, you might both be able to make it to first period on time. After a minute of silence he knocks again, but he’s greeted with the same silence. 

He steps back, brows knitted together, and his gaze flickers toward the front window. He ignores the feeling of being a complete creeper as he peers through the glass. The house looks unnaturally still, none of your usual morning mess as you rush to get ready on time. The lights are off and he can’t hear anything inside. 

Your parents are usually gone before you even wake up. He can’t think of anyone else who would give you a ride. Or why you would even have anyone else drive you. A strange unease coils in his stomach and another brief memory flashes through his mind. It’s not much, just a pretty blonde smiling up at him. 

Jaw tightening, Clark turns back to his truck, climbing inside and heading straight for school. He’s sure everything’s fine. You probably had Chloe or Lana pick you up. Still, even with him being ten minutes late, he’s not sure how they would have gotten to your house before him. 

Pulling into the parking lot he frowns, greeted first thing in the morning by Lex’s ridiculously overpriced sports car. It’s parked right in front of the entrance and he wonders what business Lex would have at the high school. 

The passenger door opens and you step out, your bag slung over one shoulder. You turn to Lex, smiling as you give him a sweet wave. Clark watches it all with his shoulders tensed as something sharp and hot twists in Clark’s chest. 

He watches as Lex pulls out of the parking lot, jaw clenched in irritation. He throws the truck into park and gets out, heading toward the front doors. Inside, the hallways seem more crowded than usual but he still manages to make you out almost instantly. 

You’re at your locker, pulling out books as if nothing’s wrong. As if you didn’t get a ride with Lex Luthor and ditch him for seemingly no reason at all. 

Clark makes a beeline for you, tightening his grip on his backpack as he stops beside your locker. “Hey,” he calls, forcing a smile. “Did I miss something? I thought I was picking you up this morning.”

You don’t even bother looking at him, eyes stubbornly pointed forward. “Guess I made other plans.”

The coldness in your voice stops him in his tracks. His stomach drops, smile faltering as you continue to pretend there’s anything more for you to grab from your locker. “Okay…” He exhales slowly. “Did something happen?”

You slam your locker shut and he jumps. Whipping around to face him, your eyes are dark with anger as you glare up at him. “Really?” You snap and his eyes widen in surprise. “This is what you’re doing, pretending you don’t remember?”

Clark blinks, thrown off by the heat in your voice. “I-”

“Forget it,” you cut him off. You shake your head, looking tired. “Just leave me alone, Clark. Seems to be something you’re good at, anyway.” You whip around, storming off down the hall and leaving him reeling. He wants to go after you but you’re already slipping into your English class and he knows there’s no way he’ll be able to talk to you in there. 

He hovers in the hallway, stunned. What the hell happened last night?

His mind races, grasping at the fleeting memories. There was a bar, he’s not even sure how he found that place. He was dancing with you and then kissing you. His eyes widen at that, grimacing at the blurred memory of your rough first kiss. He’d been hoping for something a little sweeter than some backwoods bar. 

He remembers you being angry at him but that’s it. There are holes and gaps that he can’t remember no matter how hard he tries. There’s only one thing that could explain the reckless behavior, the memory gaps, and the way he felt like someone else.

Red kryptonite. 

His heart sinks and his head falls into his hands. He hurt you and probably scared you. You don’t even want to look at him now. Straightening up, he runs a hand through his hair and tries to think of a way to fix all of this. 

He’s not sure he can, not when he can’t even remember what he’s done to you. 

Admittedly, ambushing you outside of class probably wasn’t the best way to go about this. But he needed to make sure you couldn’t run from him. You walk out the door, books clutched to your chest, and head down. 

Clark falls into step beside you and you briefly glance up, rolling your eyes when you realize it’s him. You pick up your pace, clearly trying to put space between the both of you. “Wait,” he calls, stepping in front of you. “One chance to explain, please.”

You stop in the middle of the hall, uncaring to the students parting around you. “Clark-”

“I don’t remember everything,” he admits, voice low and desperate as he pushes through your objection. “But I know something happened. And I need to fix this.”

Exhaling sharply, you can’t seem to meet his eye. “There’s nothing to fix.”

That can’t be true. He won’t let that be true. “Please,” he presses. “Just… one chance.”

For a moment, you hesitate, teeth pressing into your lower lip as you take a step back from him. “Fine,” you relent, sounding wholly reluctant. “We’ll talk after school.”

Relief floods through him and he finally manages a real smile for the first time all morning. “Okay,” he utters, trying not to sound surprised. “Great, I’ll drive you home, and-”

“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “Lex is giving me a ride,” he opens his mouth to protest and you shoot him a sharp look. His jaw snaps closed and he sighs. “I’ll meet you at your house later,” you tell him, leaving no room for argument. 

His stomach twists as you turn and walk away. Lex, he scoffs and shakes his head. When did the two of you get close? One bad night and you’re already done with him?

The thought should fill him with anger, but it only makes his worry grow. Whatever he had done last night must have been truly awful. He hates that there’s a chance he won’t be able to fix this. But what makes it worse is knowing that it’s all his fault.

Clark’s in his room when he hears you pull up to the house. He doesn’t waste any time as he heads down the stairs. “What happened to ‘I never want to see him again?’” Clark has no shame as he listens to your conversation. He doesn’t appreciate how comfortable Lex sounds teasing you. 

“Yeah, well,” your voice loses its muffled edge as you open the passenger door. “I deserve an explanation.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Lex tells you as Clark opens his front door. Rolling his eyes, Clark jogs down the steps of his porch, heading toward you both. You turn over your shoulder, smile falling as you nod your head in greeting. 

Clark’s waited forever to finally tell you how he really feels about you. Years of pining all led to that one moment where you told him that you feel the same way. He’d finally gotten a chance with you, to be with you like he always wanted. He’s not going to let last night ruin everything. 

“Thanks, Lex,” you mutter, closing the passenger door and marching toward Clark. Lex lingers for a moment and Clark sends him a stiff smile and wave. Lex returns it with a smirk before driving off. 

“So,” arms crossed across your chest, you glance up at him with barely veiled apprehension. “Are we going inside?”

Clark glances back at his house and shakes his head. He holds his hand out to you and you give him a wary glare. “Please,” he asks, and after a moment you place your hand in his. He smiles and leads you to the barn. 

Call it nostalgia, call it desperation but whatever compelled you to actually hear Clark out can go bite it. He abandoned you at a club in a town you hadn’t even heard of. To go be with another girl, no less. You shouldn’t have even stopped to listen to him in the hallway. It’s a lack of self-respect, really. 

But there was something in his eyes that compelled you to stay. Last night, he’d been a stranger wearing Clark’s face. This morning, you saw the earnest sincerity you always do when you look into those pretty blue eyes of his. Giving in was an inevitability. 

Walking the familiar path to the barn you’re struck with a feeling almost like grief. Whatever could have bloomed between you and Clark feels like sand falling through your fingers. Unless he’s about to open those doors and reveal an evil twin, you’re not sure you could ever forgive him. 

Clark glances over his shoulder at you, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He throws the doors of the barn open and you roll your eyes at the dramatics. You slip past him and head inside, stopping short once you see what he’s done. 

Fairy lights dangle above the loft, illuminating what looks like a poorly built blanket fort. Christmas lights he clearly stole from his mom are hung haphazardly from the rafters. You can see the effort he put into making the barn feel special, even if the execution is lacking.

It’s the nostalgia of it all that makes you smile. Summer’s spent camping out in the barn, hidden away under blanket forts, and trying to scare each other with your bad ghost stories. It’s a time capsule of your childhood. And you know what he’s trying to do, how he’s trying to soften the hard edges of your resentment. You hate that it’s beginning to work. 

Clark heads up to the loft first, glancing over his shoulder and motioning for you to follow. You sigh, face blank as you work to keep up the cool exterior you feel slowly melting away. He offers his hand as you reach the top, and after a beat of hesitation, you reluctantly take it. 

Clark pulls you forward and keeps your hand in his as he leads you to sit down across from him. Sinking back into the plush pillows and blankets you prop your head in your hand, watching him with a bored expression. Sucking in a deep breath, he rubs his hands along the surface of his jeans, avoiding your eyes for a moment. 

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be in some bar.” He chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck before finally meeting your eyes. “I didn’t want our first anything to be there. I wanted it to be somewhere like this, somewhere that actually meant something to us.” 

His throat bobs as he swallows. Then he leans closer, reaching across the space between you, his fingers curling around yours again. The warmth of his palm is comforting, even if you don’t let him see that. “I don’t want to lose my best friend. I don’t want to lose you, you have to believe me. What happened last night, it wasn’t me.”

Your expression hardens and you yank your hand from his, putting distance between you. Clark’s face flickers with hurt, but you ignore it. “Why should I believe anything you say, Clark? What happened last night was an eye-opener. Clearly, we’re better off just being friends.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, looking like you’ve just punched him in the gut. “You don’t mean that,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t I?”

Clark drops his head into his hands, fingers threading through his hair. His shoulders curl inward, and for a long while, he doesn’t speak. The silence between you stretches, thick with unspoken words. 

Maybe it would be better for you to just leave. Some space might do both of you good, and help you come to terms with the truth of it all. 

This was never going to work. 

Clark exhales slowly, then straightens, blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that catches you off guard. “Alright,” he nods, some internal battle going on that you’re not privy to. “Stand by the window.”

Your brows furrow and you shake your head. “What?”

“Do it,” he tells you, tone firm, and you find yourself struggling for a reason not to listen. Finally, with a reluctant huff, you get up and go stand by the window. 

The golden fields stretch before you bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. The wheat sways gently in the evening breeze. Utterly boring and un-fascinating. 

You roll your eyes, “Clark, I swear-” 

A distant whistle cuts through the air. You whip around, expecting to see Clark behind you and instead find the loft empty. Your stomach tightens and you turn back to the window. A flicker of movement catches your attention, “What the…”

You press against the window, squinting at the field below. That’s when you see him. A very small Clark waves from the middle of the wheat, far too distant for how quickly he got there. Your breath catches and you find yourself waving back without thinking. 

There’s no possible way he crossed all that in under thirty seconds. 

But he’s not satisfied with just an impressive show of speed. Clark disappears and then reappears right below the barn window. Only, he’s not alone. 

Above his head, with terrifying ease, he’s holding a goddamn tractor. Your heart slams against your ribs. “Clark!” You shout, terrified this little stunt of his is going to end with him sandwiched into the dirt. He sets it down casually, as if it weighs nothing. 

A gust of wind pushes your hair forward and you turn sharply. Clark stands behind you now, cheeks flushed, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “What the hell was that?” You demand, eyes darting between him and the tractor outside.

“It’s what I wanted to tell you. What I’ve always wanted to tell you,” he concedes, his smile faltering slightly, his voice tinged with something vulnerable. 

Still stunned, you sink onto the couch as he begins to explain. About the crash landing. About his powers. How he’s different.  

Your best friend- your almost-boyfriend, is an alien. 

Of all the things racing through your mind, only one question comes to mind. “Why have you never told me?” You don’t ask him if he was from Jupiter or Mars, or if he’s got a secret eye hidden somewhere. You just want to know why he didn’t think he could trust you. 

Clark hesitates. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he says, “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore. That you’d see me as some freak.”

You snort, “You’re an idiot is what you are.”

 His head snaps up, blinking at you in surprise. “Clark, why would I ever care about what planet you’re from?” You shake your head, a smile creeping onto your lips as you shift forward, kneeling in front of him. Your hands find his, squeezing slightly. Then, hesitantly, you reach up, cupping his cheek. A smile spreads across your face as he leans into the touch. “I care about you, not about what rocket you crash-landed in.”

“More of a pod,” he corrects and you shoot him a sharp look that makes him laugh. He sobers quickly, smile fading, “I understand if you can’t forgive me for last night.”

“Well,” you muse, tilting your head. “It wasn’t really you, right? It was that krypto- karo-”

“Kryptonite,” he grins a little at the way you stumble over the word. “And, yes, it was. I would never purposefully hurt you, but it’s not an excuse.”

“It’s actually the only acceptable excuse,” you tell him, rolling your eyes playfully. “That or evil twin.” Clark’s eyes widen slightly and you narrow yours. “Do you actually have an evil twin?” You shake your head, “Never mind, we’ll talk about that later.”

You glance up at the twinkling lights strung above, the warm glow making the loft feel impossibly soft, impossibly safe. “Clark?” You ask and he hums, already looking at you when you glance back at him. “We can always try that first kiss again.”

His smile, soft and sweet, mirrors your own. As you lean in, his arms circle your waist, pulling you gently into him. Your fingers thread through the soft tresses of his hair as his lips brush against yours, soft, lingering, right. 

This. This is what you knew it would feel like. This is home and safety, everything good in your life. You smile against Clark’s lips knowing that no matter what evil twins or toxic rocks come at you, you’ll face it together.

end. — I do not own the characters or the TV Show Smallville, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © scribes-of-valar 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[solaris-amethyst]

Okay idk if this is a long shot but anyway... If you are going to the ateez Copenhagen show on the 14th of February and happen to see someone wearing the outfit on the left that would be me! I'd love to meet and get to know more atinys so if you happen to see me do feel free to come up and say hi🥺 or on the 15th if you happen to see someone wearing the outfit on the right that would be me as well!

Idk how many on here are actually going to the concert in Denmark and perhaps no one will see this but I thought I'd give it a go🥲💓 also I felt so awkward trying to pose for the camera to capture my outfits... don't judge my posing too harshly I never do things like this usally😭

[chrisbesitos]

"isn't that 'bunny'?"

matt frowns his eyebrows, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes to see better the picture chris is showing him on his phone. it's impossible, because she told matt earlier she'll spend the whole night studying for a test and plus she'll never go to a party without him — or without telling him —. once he realizes, he widen his eyes. it was her, his bunny.

"she's – are she for real? she said she'll study tonight." matt says, biting his underlip and swiping his fingers on his hair. he scrunches his nose, lifting his body from the couch and looking for car keys at the coffee table. chris frowns his eyebrows, looking at matt walking to the door, he lifts too.

"where are you going?" chris asks.

matt didn't answer, he just slammed the door. he's not exactly mad at you, but he's not okay with the fact you're at a party at the frat house his frat totally hates. so, if you think he's gonna let you stay there after lying to him, you're totally wrong. he drives to the house, climbing out of the car after park in the front of their place. he walks inside, looking for you like a hunter looks for his prey. pushing people from his way, you better not being with one of the frat bros from this house.

he finds you sitting outside in the backyard, your friends with you and he. matt takes a deep breath, scrunching his nose angrily, trying to not make a scene. he walks towards you, he wants to smile at your cute outfit, most of the girls are wearing tiny dresses, but you are sitting there wearing your superheroes shirt and leg warmers, you swipe your glass in your nose. your face drop when you see matt walking in your direction, his jaw clenched, visible angry. you shouldn't have lied to him, but your friend convinced you to do it, knowing matt would never let you go to this party. even though matt doesn't have to allow you go to anywhere.

"what are you doing here?" matt says, you roll your eyes, crossing your arms against your chest. matt is making a scene. your friends stare at you and him, you shrank embarrassed. "you're supposed to be studying in your dorm."

"you're not my babysitter, matt. stop." you say, lifting from the bank and pushing matt by the chest to talk more privately. matt sniffles, smelling you like an animal, feeling the smell of alcohol in your mouth. first you lie, then you drink, all of this without saying anything to him.

"you told me you would be studying, i believed you! you know i don't like these guys." matt groans, grabbing your chin to analyze your face. especially your eyes. at least you're not on drugs, he doesn't trust anyone at this party. "you're drunk, are you serious, huh?"

"i'm not, i just had a couple drinks." you sigh, rubbing your temple. you're not drunk, just a little bit. you don't drink normally, but your friends convince you to drink a bit tonight. "please, go. you're embarrassing me."

"i'm embarrassing you? are you hearing yourself?" matt laughs sarcastically, swiping his fingers along his hair. you sigh again, looking back to stare at your friends, of course they're watching your argument with matt and this is really embarrassing, because they're gonna tell everyone on campus. "let's go, bunny." he says, grabbing your arm.

"i'm not going anywhere, matt. go home." you say, trying to make he let you go. one of the guys behind you both walks towards you, matt frowns his eyebrows looking at him, not letting you go.

"she's not going anywhere with you, asshole." he says, now you're frowning your eyebrows. you stop moving and stare at the guy, because you're mad at matt, but he's still your best friend.

"don't call him an asshole, you back off. this is a private conversation." you push his chest, he stares at you angrily, but before he does anything, matt puts himself in front of you. he pushes the guy.

"stay away from her. all of you." matt says, grabbing your arm again and pulling you out of this party. at least he didn't have to carry you to the car, you walk by his side, even though he protects you and you defend him, he's still mad at you for lying. "i'm gonna drop you at your dorm." he snorts, walking to his car. you stand in front of the car door, matt waits for you get in, staring at you. "get in the car, y/n."

"i'm sorry for lying, ok? i know you wouldn't approve." you sigh, crossing your arms, you sit at the highway. matt sighs too, he walks until you and sits by your side, he embraces your shoulders with his arm. "i just wanted to look nice."

"you can look nice without going to parties like that." he groans, you glance at him and he shakes his head, resting his chin in your head. matt worries about you, sometimes you're too naive for this world, he's scared of anyone hurting you while you away from his eyes. that's why he don't like you at rivals frat parties or drinking without him. "i'm sorry for embarrassing you."

"i know you don't regret it." you say, matt laughs nodding. you raise your head and admire matt's eyes, you rest your hand on his cheek, brushing your thumb there. matt smiles softly, his anger for you disappears. "thank you for caring, baby."

"never do that again, i'm not kidding, bunny." matt says, pointing at you, talking seriously. you smile softly, nodding agreeing with him. you lift your chin to put your lips together.

it's okay to kiss, best friends kiss sometimes.

꩜ chérie's notes: i love love love dealer!matt with nerd!reader <33333

taglist ; @lizzymacdonald06 @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2 @zayluvss @sturnsmia @sofieeeeex @ifwdominicfike @planettori @jetaimevous @leclecwifey16 @mattswifeyx @joclyn240 @voqueflms @pepsicola-pussy @sturnobsessedwh0re @chrissturnioloswifeee @sturniolossss @imonlyhereformattfluff @sturniolosluttt

[dwaekkicidal]

The Library

˚ʚPerv!Emo!Han Jisung x Cutesy!Fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Second part of 'The Incidents' Series; based off of this ask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2.3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: told from his pov, jisung is a huge perv/creep, accidental stimulation (m receiving), (semi)public masturbation (m)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: Italics are Han's thoughts! also the picture is just a reference for the outfit i had in mind :)

The Incidents Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han wasn’t sure what came over him that first time. He genuinely didn't know when he grew the balls to do such a thing in a public place with his crush not even a foot away— even touching him at one point during it. But as the weeks went on he found himself doing it more and more, to the point where the shame was almost nonexistent from how normal it became for him.

Another thing that became normal was hanging out with the girl outside of class. They even exchanged numbers after the first week. For “studying” purposes. Or whatever lie he told her as an excuse to get her phone number. Part of him was excited, it’s a chance to get to know her better! But the other part of him was dreading the closeness that would ensue. God forbid if she ever found out about what I did..

With that thought lingering around his mind he opens the giant library doors, slipping inside quietly and nodding at the clerk as he walks past. The glasses on his head falter with the nod, but he fixes them in place before fiddling with his chain. He walks to his usual spot in complete silence, not even sparing the packed desks a glance as he focuses on the music in his airpods. Unfortunately for him, this is how he misses a set of eyes that landed him from the moment he walked in.

He also misses the way she interrupts herself from talking to her friends to stare at him wide-eyed, not used to seeing him in anything but an oversized sweater. She looks him up and down in awe, from the glasses that sit on top of his beanie to his black turtleneck that’s decorated with a silver Cuban chain necklace. Then to his long sleeves that are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his watch and shiny rings. “Oh. My. Gosh.” She excuses herself from her friends and gathers her things, running after him.

The boy in question finally makes it to his secluded spot with no extra social interaction and he sets up his study supplies around the table, making sure to put his bag in the empty chair beside him. He looks around, smiling to himself at the lack of people around and the giant window beside him that shows off the cloudy weather. It might be cringe, but fuck do I love this weather. He double-checks his bag for his umbrella and pulls out his laptop. It boots up quickly and he types in the pincode just in time to see a blob of white in the corner of his eye.

“Hannie!!!" He hears it through his music. He turns his head to see you moving towards him with a big smile. Speak of the devil..

He can’t stop his eyes from darting down to her chest, even if he wanted to, and he watches it shake as she prances up to him happily. The girl hugs his arm and looks him up and down again, “You look so good!!” Her right hand detaches from his arm to trace the pattern of his necklace, “I’ve never seen you in anything but a big sweater.. You should dress like this more often!” He flushes at the compliment, looking around nervously because he knows that she never wanders around alone. “T-Thank you.. My friend is having a birthday party later but I wanted to study a little bit before I went..”

Her shiny lips pucker as she continues to shamelessly check him out. He immediately notices that instead of her usual red-pink tint, it's now a light red gloss. “Ooo, that sounds like fun! Can I sit with you? I promise I won’t get in the way!” He watches the pout form on her lips and his gaze shifts up, taking in the full pleading expression and puppy eyes. Their eyes meet and his dick twitches. God damn you. He nods reluctantly, taking one last look around to make sure nobody is near before sitting.

He expects her to take the seat across from him but is shocked as he watches her carefully hang his bag on the back of his chair and take the seat directly beside him. She sets her pink bunny bag on the table and crosses her legs, tilting her head to nosily look at his screen. She smiles and bites her lip to hold back a chuckle at his wallpaper, all black with some depressed emo-lord anime character in the corner. He normally would have flinched at the pure audacity and lack of privacy, but his eyes were too focused on something else.

Who the fuck casually wears thigh highs like those.. and why is her dress so fucking short again?!? He gulps, watching as she stretches and as the dress lifts farther up her thighs. He finds himself in yet another situation where if she opened her thighs even the slightest, he would get a glimpse of her panties. And by whatever god is out there, she actually does. Her legs separate for a moment and she stretches them out too before crossing them again.

His jaw drops slightly and he starts to drool, almost forgetting where he’s at completely. Baby-pink, partially sheer, and lace. I’m going to fucking die.. He discreetly adjusts himself in his pants but is all too nervous this time to do anything more. I know damn well one of her goons is around here somewhere..

He instead revels in the newfound discovery. It only lasts a short while longer due to her speaking up again. She brings up their upcoming project, one that was announced just a few days prior, and confidently asks him to be her partner for it. His eyes widened slightly, I literally just convinced that professor to let me do it alone.. He opens his mouth to respond but is cut off.

“Yo- Who’s this freak?”

Han flinches at the sound of a new voice, a deeper, nasally one that he recognizes all too well. Fucking knew it. He glances over to see one of the shithead frat boys that glues himself to her side in hopes that she’ll fuck him. He stares down at Han with a frown, looking him up and down before turning to the girl.

“That’s not nice, Juwon. This is Hannie! He’s my friend.” Han watches as she turns to the other man. He can’t see her expression but from the annoyed eye roll from him, he can only assume it wasn’t anything good. He hears a faint “Don’t be an ass.” before she turns her back to him and looks at Han with an apologetic smile.

He returns the smile and turns his attention back to his laptop, finally getting some work done as the two of them chat beside him. Han picks up on some words here and there, something about a party next week that his frat is throwing. He faintly picks up on a “plus one” agreement but ultimately pushes it to the back of his head.

He doesn’t get much farther on the document. Instead of focusing on it as he should have, his brain only goes back to those pretty pink panties he got a glimpse of. Eventually, he gives up completely on the work and puts on a youtube video to pretend to watch as he zones out. The two beside him talk for some more time before she shoos him away, teasingly complaining with a “Look! You made me distract Hannie!” and “We were in the middle of something, shoo shoo!”

From the corner of his eye, he watches the boy stare at him angrily for a moment before finally leaving. Once he’s out of sight she turns to Han again, apologizing to him sweetly with those shiny eyes looking up at him. He laughs it off and closes the video, reopening the document to work on his assignment again.

She quietly watches as he finally manages to fill out all the questions, scrolling through her phone while she waits. When he sighs, stretches, and starts to digitally turn in the assignment, she finally places her phone on the table.

He suddenly feels a hand on his thigh. She taps it at first but when he turns to meet her gaze, she rests it flatly across his thigh. “Hannie? About the project, we should meet up at my house tomorrow to work on it.” She smiles and looks up at him. The mere thought of stepping foot into her bedroom has his eye twitching. “Y-Yeah, sure..” Wait. I didn’t even agree to do it with you yet?? 

She pulls his laptop towards her body, leaning in slightly as she creates a new powerpoint document and adds herself to it as a collaborator. While she does so, he lets his gaze fall to her chest. Her cardigan had fallen off her shoulders, giving him the perfect view of her collarbone and upper chest. As she leaned into the screen more, it even gave him a small glimpse of her bra-ridden boobs as her dress fell forward. And they fucking match with the panties?? He subconsciously leans forward, trying to get a look at her nipples-

“There we go!” He jumps and backs away, watching her lean backward and turn to look up at him, “I added myself so we can start the blueprint before you come over.” Oh, I’ll ‘come’ all right. He clears his throat and nods, taking back his laptop so he can pack it away into his bag. He feels her eyes on him but ignores it as best as he can until he runs out of items to pack away.

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, her perfume now flooding his senses as she leans into him more. He sees her lips move, but his eyes can’t choose which thing to focus on and it leads to him completely ignoring what she said. “H-Huh?” In the distraction of her pretty looks and her delicious smell, he almost missed the way her hand returned to his thigh. He did not, however, miss the way her hand slid up his thigh when she leaned in more.

“I asked if you were okay. You look sick again.” She goes on to describe something about how it looks like he has a cold. He would have cared, and he should have! He was going to until she turns her head away to greet a passing friend, causing her hand accidentally slide against his bulge. It's that point that makes him completely lose his sense of morality.

He freezes in place, body all sweaty as he tries to process what is going on. He knows he should have said something, and he honestly tried to! But the only thing that came out of his mouth was a shaky breath almost followed by a moan until he bit his lip harshly. The warmth of her hand seeps through his pants and he can’t help but soak in it. He turns his head to the window, pretending to watch the passing cars as he leans back to lets her hand rest better against his dick.

He only turns back towards her when he hears goodbyes get exchanged. “Oh, Hannie.. You see what I mean?? Now your face is all red!” She leans forward even more and accidentally pushes down more on his dick, making his breath hitch as he closes his eyes tightly. “Y-Yeah but you…. Your h-hand..” He nods his head down at his crotch, not trusting himself to hold back the moan that he feels crawling out of his throat. It was silent after that, but he could tell the exact moment she realized what happened when she gasped.

She remove her hand and her normally sweet, calm voice becomes panicked, “Oh! C-Crap.. I’m so sorry Hannie! I thought that was still your leg..” He clears his throat and adjusts his sitting position with a red face. Eventually not being able to find any comfort, he just stands up and snatches his bag before moving away. “I-I gotta go! I’ll.. text you..?” He says it in a questioning tone but gives her no time to respond as he beelines it for the bathroom, keeping his head down and covering his crotch with his bag the whole way.

He throws the door open and slams it shut, making sure the stalls are empty before locking the main door. The bag with his laptop is almost thrown onto the sink and forgotten about as he unbuttons his pants, pulling down the fabric alongside his boxers. His dick twitches the second it meets the cold bathroom air and he stares down at it in awe. His tip is an angry red and his whole length twitches repeatedly as he recalls the feeling of her hand against it, albeit clothed.

He wraps his hand around himself to relieve some of the pain, squeezing it even more as he starts to jerk off. He’s so riled up from everything that took place in the span of a singular hour so it doesn't take long to build up his orgasm. His mind starts to wander as it usually does: starting with fantasizing about her pretty, glossy lips wrapped around his dick. But this time it quickly changes to the image of her hand wrapped around him. He wonders how soft her hands would be and if they could even fit around his entire width.

Then he’s overwhelmingly reminded of the other events. Her thigh-highs, her bra… her underwear. He moans a little too loudly at the memory that's now engraved in his mind. The sight of the skin there, covered in sheer, baby-pink lace. Fuck. If only she opened her legs a little more. Maybe I could’ve seen her pretty pussy.. He imagines it. Now knowing what the skin down there looks like leaves little to no room for imagination. He can easily guess what her folds would look like, ugh. and that pretty clit..

He throws his head back, legs shaking and stomach squeezing tightly as his hand speeds up. The sound of wet squelching fills the room as he paints ropes, some of it getting onto his hand, but most of it landing on the two-toned floor tiles. He lets out desperate whines towards the ceiling as he continues to cum even more than usual. When he’s finally finished painting the floor he lets shaky breathes leave his lips. His eyes trace the messy pattern on the floor as the sounds of his breathing echo around the bathroom.

He manages to clean himself up and goes to grab napkins to wipe the floor before he realizes that he still has a birthday party to go to. He glances at his watch for a moment and groans when he realizes that he’s going to be late now.

This girl is going to be the death of me.

Taglist: (purple=can't be tagged)

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08 @grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

@easypeezylemonsquezy @iiriam @soaplickerrr @kimahreummm @seungfl0wer @4l17h4 @moonlightshostage

[sillyhanako]

➜﹒ WHO Y0U FOOLIN' ? ★ ⌒⌒

✿﹕WINDBREAKER BOYS : headcanons !! ft. nirei akihiko, hayato suo, haruka sakura, choji tomiyama, ren kaji, mitsuki kiryu and tasuku tsubakino.

✿﹕sfw. // 576 wc

✿﹕notes : inspired by the many hcs i read here and on other platforms! reblogs are appreciated <3

—﹙nirei akihiko﹚: talks to himself

when he isn't present around anyone or if he doesn't want to yap someone's ears off, he tends to talks to himself privately.  either out loud or as an inner monologue.

he finds it easier than talking to a friend since he doesn't get side-tracked with explaining minor events that connect to his idea nor describing people that are unfamiliar to them.

—﹙hayato suo﹚ : photographic memory

i headcanon him as having a very sharp memory, he's always quick to answer if you ask him about what was person X wearing or saying in a certain day.

the same goes for dreams too! He would remember who he saw, what colours their outfit was, the environment he was in, the words spoken by him or by an other individual etc.

—﹙haruka sakura﹚ : uses phone like a grandpa

this isn't really a headcanon but i just wanted to expand on the idea more!

he types with one finger. goodluck trying to text him lol, for the life of him he cannot find the letters he wants to type! which results in one message taking 20 minutes at least.

since he's still getting used to his phone, he finds joy in the little things he can do with it. like downloading games, watching videos, taking pictures, customizing his home page etc..

—﹙choji tomiyama﹚ : super messy but can navigate his own mess

he's too lazy to organize his room, with the excuse that he's shishitoren's leader! He got places to be in! ( bug catching )

you need an extra hair tie? just wait a minute he'll get it! oh here you go, it was on top of the ceiling fan haha

will not let anyone inside his room, he claims that whenever someone enters they break something, and that pompompurin keychain was expensive!

—﹙ren kaji﹚ : plays ooc songs

sometimes the ear-defening music he usually has on his playlist become bland, so he switches to pop.

will go batshit if someone caught him listening to NewJeans. His reputation will go down the drain. Thats why he prefers doing this secret activity in his house.

: is an expert at candy.

you will never find anyone better than him at picking candy. He knows what specific lollipop would fit today's vibes and what would be perfect to munch on while fighting.

his classmates will go to him directly to get his opinion on that new candy thats around recently, they know he already tried it out even if it was put in local grocery stores just yesterday!

—﹙mitsuki kiryu﹚ : speaks quickly

hes lazy most of the time but speaks impressively quick with no stuttering, some rumours say its a skill he earned from the amount of explainings he does to his girlfriends when they confront him...

: has a ghost hunting his house

has a ghost hunting his house, but instead of moving out like a normal person, he instead tries to make youtube ghost hunting videos.

with all seriousness gets ghost hunting equipments to interact with the ghost either on camera or off.

asks if they died a virgin.

—﹙tsuku tsubakino﹚ : walks in circles

he is caugh multiple times walking in circles, in multiple environments, either in the local park, or at a meeting with the other kings, at his house etc.

but he has confrimed that walking in circles usually means hes either thinking, stressing, talking on the phone but most of the time its just him testing his new heels!

ー﹕m.list﹐

© 2024 sillyhanako ━ do not copy, steal, or reupload my works. Thanks!

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Metalhead

Daryl Dixon x Reader

You had dragged Daryl along to something you liked last month, so now it was his turn.

To anyone around, including yourself it was clear you stood out from the crowd.

Inbetween the mass of black on black, spiked everything and the odd masked figures in red boiler suits your bright blue jeans and simple bright teeshirt.

Daryl had come along to your weekend event last month, so now it was your turn to join him to a concert.

"What's with the masks?" You were settled against Daryl's side, not entirely sure what to make of the group before you.

"Really, ya haven't paid any attention when I showed ya who we're seein' tonight?" Daryl, all decked out in his usual looks of heavy boots, black trousers with chains hanging off the belt loops and a black shirt that hugged his form ever so perfectly. It was printed with the picture of a blonde woman that you didn't recognise.

"Hey, Dixon!" A man's voice had you both turn and look behind you, where a bearded guy in a beanie walked up with two women in super gothy outfits, their makeup extreme but flawless.

You had never met Daryl's friends before and in all honesty you felt intimidated by them.

"Oh my god you brought your girl, finally!" One of the women gestured excitedly and hopped over to introduce herself, perfectly manicured hand outstretched for you to take. "Hi! I'm Viv, that's Sammy and Jesus." You shook everyone's hands and introduced yourself as well before Daryl did his rounds and gave everyone the biggest bear hugs. "Hey, hun." "How's the apartment lookin'?" "Tell yer mom I'm sorry fer not comin' over ta cook with 'er."

It was weird to see Daryl be so social. Normally he'd be the quiet one when you went out together, but now he was all smiles and talk.

"Gotta rep the guesting band, I see." The Jesus guy tugged on Daryl's shirt, staring at the print, while one of the girls chimed in. "You gotta know by now Dee's got the biggest crush on her." The three laughed as Daryl dismissed the comments, all while you stood by and listened to their banter. Who did Daryl have a crush on? What?

"Here, in case Daryl forgot to give you some." Sammy extended her hand to you and handed you a clear plastic baggie with two foam earplugs in them.

"Ah, crap.." Daryl rubbed the back of his neck and smiled nervously as he accepted a packet himself too. "Yer a lifesaver, Sam. Thanks."

You waited close to the front of the line for some more hours, having ordered food with a large group of people that all seemed to become friends at that moment.

Once the doors to the venue opened up you followed Daryl like a lost puppy, stuck to his arm in fear of getting lost in the sea of the dark clad people.

"Come on, Dixon, get your ass in gear!"

"Yeah, man. Barricade's gonna be full at this rate." His friend had already moved further along as you and Daryl put your stuff in a locker. "Go ahead. Takin' it easy with this one." Daryl's hand found your hair and ruffled it softly, much to your annoyance. But you appriciated his concern for you and was willing to not go full out.

You followed along with the stream of people and ended at the bar off to the side of the venue.

"One beer, and one--" Daryl gave you a look, and saw you just looking around the place, taking everything in. "And a Redbull, please."

By the time you had your drinks and the crowd had all settled in, the local opening band had started their first song. Daryl's beer was gone fast, kindly waiting for you to finish your overpriced can before slowly easing you into the crowd.

Every tine you stood still for a moment you took a peek at the stage, seeing the band perform the songs was something entirely different than hearing come from Daryl's huge sound installation at home.

Daryl was keeping a close eye on you the whole time, not caring much for the small band on stage. He was enjoying how curious you were. Less how easy it was to lose you in the crowd if he wasn't holding your hand.

"Yer havin' fun?" Daryl stood behind you with his hands loosely on your hips, you had found a spot closer where you could see the stage nicely.

You gave him a nod, resting your head against his shoulder as he pressed a kiss to your hair. "Good, gotta lemme know when's gettin' too rowdy for ya, 'kay?"

"Promise, Dee." You turned to give him a quick kiss, laughing at how the previously considered scary people were all chanting along to the pop songs the speakers played between bands.

You were checking a few messages while you waited and hadn't noticed Daryl taking out his phone too until it was in front of you and his chin was resting on your shoulder. You looked up to see yourself on his screen, he was taking a selfie with you. Next to you he stuck out his tongue as he pressed the capture button and held it as he went to smooch your cheek.

He watched the short looping video back and added a caption before sending it off.

'Girlie's first metal gig!' He addded under it with a little black heart emoji.

The crowd around you cheered and hollered all of a sudden, making you look up and seeing the first members of the next band come onto the stage, waving and getting ready to perform.

You watched the stage didn't notice how giddy Daryl had gotten behind you. Most of the band had gotten onto the stage and an eery tune started playing that had part of the crowd whistle and cheer.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN."

Suddenly a loud, distorted voice called out from the speakers.

"I AM NOW PROUD TO INTRODUCE TO YOU,"

More howls and whistles surrounded you as the eery tune continued.

"THE ONLY,"

"IN THIS MOMENT"

Spots beamed to the centre of the stage as a gorgeous woman appeared as the band's instruments joined the tune, starting the song.

Behind you you felt Daryl's body jerk against yours as he raised a fist and joined the crowd in cheer.

His body stayed pressed againts yours with his arms around you, hands resting on your hips and stomach as he swayed you along the tunes of the first song.

As the band played on the crowd got more rowdy, jumping around and bumping into each other making you stagger in Daryl's grip.

Daryl kept being your shield as the crowd's shoves got worse. "Ya wanna move?" He tapped your arm and pointed off to the side where you could suddenly see a wide open space inbetween the few people that separated you from it.

Over the intro tune of the song a large hole had formed in the crowd, a few people in the middle bouncing around as the lyrics went on.

With your lack of answering, Daryl just kept up holding onto you and kept his gaze between you and the pit.

The second the woman's voice went from a distorted speaking to a loud growled singing the crowd surged into the large open space, almost taking you and Daryl with them.

You didn't know where to look. The gorgeous frontwoman on the stage before you, or the massive swarm of people throwing themselves around next to you.

You peeked behind you at Daryl, who was staring, mesmerized by the woman leading the band. One arm stayed around you to ward off the thrashing crowd while the other one was raised above you in cheer.

The crowd bounced in unison making you want to join in, softly bopping to the beat on the balls of your feet. You knew nothing of the song so you went along with the crowd, much to Daryl's enjoyment as he joined in as well. You blended with the crowd now, barely noticing you were slowly moving around the floor agsin in the moving sea of people.

It was only when the band's set ended that you realised you had moved a lot closer and further off to the centre of the crowd.

Daryl had his face buried in the crook of your neck the second the band was off the stage, nuzzling against your skin and squeezing your soft thighs. "Yer havin' fun. S'good." His mumbling tone was barely audible over the waiting time music and the crowd's chatter. But you recognized the tone, he was getting high on your enjoyment. You could already tell that of the next band didn't interest him enough you'd be dragged into the nearest bathroom stall to show you just how much he loved seeing you enjoy yourself.

You found it cute how a big grump like Daryl got off on something as soft as seeing his girlfriend happy.

The intermission was a nice time to mellow out a bit before the headliner got on stage and quickly check your messages. This time it was your turn to send out a snapchat to your friends, showing them you were still alive and breathing.

A selfie of you in the dim lights with Daryl nuzzling your hair, and a simple text that read "having fun!".

While you sent away your snap and went to respond to a pauzed conversation from earlier the stagelights moved as the headliners entred the stage.

You scrambled to put your phone away with how wild the crowd got all of a sudden.

Almost immediately after the members got on stage a guitar rhytm set in and thr crowd moved around you, so much it made Daryl move along and before you knew it there was another empty space in the crowd.

Right next to where you stood at the edge of it.

The drums kicked in, joining the guitars and right next to you there were people running in circles in the open space.

Daryl had let go of you for a moment to look into the pit and right at that moment the song started in full blast. Daryl's arm got grabbed by someone passing by and got yanked into the whirlpool of people. "Sorry!" You heard him yell, leaving you on your own off to the side against his will.

"Daryl?!" You called in shock and backed up when a guy ran too close past you, stepping into another person's side.

"Ah, I'm sorry.." Your fun was gone in an instant and the guy saw it, carefully patting your arm and offering to shield you from the rowdyness of the pit. A careful nod was all you needed to share before going back to watch the band play and glance to your side whenever Daryl passed by.

You listened to the song and followed Daryl's movements, watching him throw himself around with a wide smile on his face.

With the song nearing its end the pool mellowed out and Daryl came back to you, panting and smiling, placing a soft kiss to your cheek before grabbing you in both his arms and pulling you into the still active pit, making you let out a yelp.

He moved along with the stream of people that ran in circles again and stepped back into the crowd after making two rounds, ending up almost at the centre front of the crowd.

Daryl's plan worked, snow standing close enough to his friends at the barricade. He whistled and saw Viv turn and reach out her hand to you.

"Grab, I'l follow." Daryl took the hand you didn't reach out with and you were pulled to the front with ease, quickly being squeezed between the two girls on the front row.

The view from your new spot was amazing, no heads blocking half of the stage, no shoulders moving just an inch to blind you entirely or needing to stand on your tiptoes to see.

You watched all the members perform up close, unable to resist the urge to photograph them all. It took you a moment before you noticed you recognised the song they were playing. Daryl had played it foe you, all those years back when he first got into this music.

You had heard it so often you could even hum along to the words, nodding to the rhythm. The girls beside you caught on quickly, smiling and nudging you to guide you along, showing you the 'proper barricade etiquette' as they called it.

Viv had your hand in hers, raising them together as the song ended and howled out in cheer along Sammy at your other side. Behind you Daryl, and beside him Jesus joined as well, Daryl's chest pressed against your back.

The music was loud, the crowd wild but the energy was one you never thought you'd welcome, there on your spot at the barricade of a heavy metal show.

Once the last song of the night ended you felt the cool air return around your body with the crowd leaving the hall.

"Think you swayed her?" Jesus asked Daryl. The two walked just a few steps behind you, watching you chatting happily with the two other girls beside you when you three suddenly made a turn towards the merchandise stand.

The men watched you all point out different things on the wall. "Course I did. 'S a lil' rebel, tha' one. She jus' gotta figure tha' out 'erself."

Jesus and Daryl caught up with you all, Daryl snaking his arms around your waist as he got to you. "Did ya find somethin', hun?" His chin rested on your head, taking a look at the wall for himself too as you waited for the person in front of you to finish their purchase.

"That one's pretty!" You pointed at one of thr shirts off to the side, having Daryl steer you towards the available salesperson.

"Girlie wants tha' second one op there." Daryl pointed at the shirt you liked, and moved on to some others as well. "Tour shirt in ..two XL, an' I'll take tha' last one down there."

The guy gathered all Daryl's choices and gave him the total, which Daryl happily paid before you joined your friends again off to the side.

"Always spending money, how much did you get this time?" Jesus crossed his arms as he raised a brow at Daryl, who showed him the bag with the three shirts. "Ain't much at all. Where's the girls?" Daryl looked around to find you and the others but you were nowhere to be found.

"They kidnapped her to the bathroom, probably lockers too." Jesus held out his pack of cigarettes in offer. "Smoke? I'll text them we're outside."

Daryl nodded and accepted the smokes, following his friend outside and smiling at you making new friends.

At the bathroom sink you were splashing water in your face to fully cool down and waited for the other two before heading back.

"They're outside already." The informafion came at the locker where you had left your jacket and bag, where you had told yourself earlier to try and have fun and not to worry so much.

With your jacket on and bag slung over your shoulder you left the venue to meet back up with the boys.

Daryl welcomed you by pulling you into his side. "Ya calmed down after all tha'?" His sweet smile leaked some smoke before blowing the remainder out over your head.

"Hmhm! I had more fun than I thought." You nuzzled his jacket and looked back at the friend around you. "It was really nice to meet you guys, too."

It was true, you did enjoy the event and were sure you'd be joining Daryl more often now.

With a last round of goodbyes you and Daryl left to catch the last train home, spending your late night moments almost falling asleep against him.

"C'mon. Yer takin' a shower with me 'fore we go sleep. Yer gross." Right, Daryl's after show routines, you almost forgot.

It was clear to him you were extremely tires so he made sure to treat you like a queen as he cleaned you up and dried you off, carrying you to bed and laying down with you, holding you close.

[mrs-hatake]

Hi hi , I've been really wanting a fic with reader/mc having a smaller chest and her being insecure about it

Do you think the LADS men will care about her size or love her regardless?

Thanks!!

a/n: thank you for sending in a request, anon! i hope you enjoy the boys' reaction and i'm sorry for caleb's abrupt ending but it's midnight where i'm from and i'm very sleepy :(

Sylus:

“I’m not coming out!”

Sylus sighs heavily as he robs the spot between his eyes. As much as he loves Y/N, she is very stubborn. Usually, he tolerates such behavior and enjoys seeing her reactions when he teasers but today, he’s just so tired. 

They’ve been shopping all morning for the perfect dress for a dinner party they’re invited to this Friday night. Feet sore, head throbbing from the loud and obnoxious music playing and stomach rumbling with hunger, Sylus has half a mind to snatch Y/N and return home to the comfort of his dark and quiet home. Screw the party and the perfect dress. Y/N has a walk-in closet full of pretty dresses and outfits. A new one is completely unnecessary.

“Sweety,” Sylus sighs, “You’ve been in there for fifteen minutes. Either come out or we’re going home.” he tries to sound as gentle as he can to hide his frustrations but Sylus is at his limit.

At that moment, a sweet voice, one that is no doubt concealing a similar exhaustion Sylus is experiencing, asks from above, “May I help you with anything, sir?”

Looking up, Sylus meets the questioning gaze of a salesperson standing next to the leather chair he’s sitting on. The smile on her lips is tight but to an untrained eyes, it will come off as an easy going and friendly smile.

Wanting to end this torturous day, Sylus just points at the fitting room Y/N is in, “She won’t come out. 

The woman nods her head. The raging storm of determination radiating takes Sylus aback. He watches, marveled, as the woman knocks on the door and, somehow, manages to convince Y/N to step out. 

“I don’t like it.” Y/N pouts, using her arms to shield her chests. 

Sylus lifts his eyebrow. It’s rare for him to see Y/N acting so shy. Especially after being together for a long time.

“May I ask why?” The salesperson asks, eyes examining what Y/N is wearing.

Glancing between the woman and Sylus, Y/N reluctantly uncrosses her arms. “I hate…this.” she gestures at the top she’s wearing. 

“What’s wrong with it?”

Y/N frowns as she explains, “It’s something a woman with a…larger chest should wear. Not me.” she finishes her statement with a mutter towards the end.

Sylus’ thick line of his eyebrows jump in surprise. He has never heard Y/N be so insecure about herself before. Sure, she’ll complain about having a bad hair day or make a criticizing comment about some of her pictures but those are normal things. He has never seen her be so self conscious that she’s hiding her beauty. 

“That’s because you’re wearing a bigger size.” The salesperson calmly explains, “It needs to be smaller.”

“I can’t go any smaller, this is my size!” Sylus knows that Y/N didn’t mean to shriek but she tends to forget to control her tone of voice when she’s frustrated.

“I understand that, miss.” Calm as the sea, the woman further explains, “This top is meant to compliment a woman’s chest regardless of their size. That’s why you have to go two sizes smaller.”

Y/N stares at the woman with doubt. She bites her lower lip in contemplation before agreeing to the suggestion.

“There, that looks much better.” The salesperson states after Y/N changes into a smaller size.

And true to her words, the built in cups push her smaller chest upwards, making them look bigger and fuller. Y/N is glowing with delight as she pays for her top and maxi length skirt.

On their drive home, Sylus stays silent. 

It’s only when they’re home where Y/N is steaming her new clothes with a happy tune that Sylus’ asks, “Since when has this been an issue?”

Glancing at him, Y/N tilts her head. 

“Your chest.” Sylus clarifies. 

Shame washes over Y/N in waves as heat warms her cheeks in embarrassment, “I don’t know she shrugs.

“Y/N.”

Unable to avoid answering the question since Sylus used his deep and commanding voice as Onychinus’ leader, Y/N replies, “I just thought…you might not like them anymore.” Her voice grows quiet with each word.

“What?” Sylus gawks at her. For the third time that day, Y/N has taken her by surprise. He doesn’t have time to dwell on how he, as a crime lord, should always be alert. His brain is too focused on what Y/N has said. 

“Why would you think that?”

Again, Y/N shrugs. 

This time, Sylus doesn’t push her. He waits with the patience of a monk until she’s comfortable to speak. 

But when she says nothing, Sylus just sighs. 

He talks large but quiet steps to where Y/N is standing by the closet and gently turns her around to face him, “I’ve never stopped loving them.” he explains.

And Y/N wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to take pity on her, Sylus quickly adds, “I never cared about their size either. I always found them cute and you know how crazy I get when you wear those adorable knitted bralette.” 

“You’re just saying that.” Y/N mutters.

“Y/N,” Sylus cups her chin and tilts it upwards, “I meant. I love every inch of you. If you gain weight, I’d still love you. If you lose it, my heart will skip a beat at the sight of you. If you want to get bigger breasts, I’ll support you if that’s what makes you happy. You want to keep them the way they are, then I’ll continue loving you. It doesn’t matter what I want, all that matters is what you want and whatever makes you happy.”

With each word Sylus utters, Y/N’s eyes well up with tears. She blinks them away but a single tear manages to escape. Sylus quickly wipes it away.

“What if I don’t have any breasts?” Y/N asks, tone very serious.

“Wouldn’t bother me.” Sylus’ answer is firm, confident that his feelings wouldn’t change.

“What if I have four tits?” 

Sylus rolls his eyes, a laugh coming out as a huff, “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

Y/N beams at him. She leans on her tiptoes to peck his lips, “Thank you.” she whispers.

“I love you.” Sylus leans down and returns the kiss, “And I meant everything I said.”

Y/N nods and presses her head against his chest, sighing in contempt when Sylus hugs her.

Zayne:

Zayne likes that he has a routine; one that he follows to a T. His small circle of friends and his colleagues tease him about his eccentrics but Zayne pays them the mind. Just knowing how the day will play it puts his mind at ease. 

Zayne absolutely abhors when things don’t go his way. And even when he is known as a problem solver, he just loves predictability. Waking up every morning at four thirty sharp to lie in bed, processing his existence and then getting out of bed to work out for an hour is a routine he’s been following since high school. 

The baker at the bakery five blocks away from his hospital has memorized that Zayne always steps into her bakery at a quarter to seven to grab his usual breakfast; a turkey and egg with cheese croissant and a black coffee. He’s at work at exactly seven. Has his lunch at one in the afternoon and his home at six in the evening to continue on with his routine. 

So, when the time finally comes where he and Y/N start to date, he changes his routine. Zayne will be honest, the change was stress inducing but he managed to perform little changes. He still follows his weekend routine, however, it will be at Y/N’s apartment. They both have agreed since their relationship is only a few months old, it’s much too early to move in together. 

This is how we find Zayne having breakfast with Y/N on a lazy Saturday morning. He’s sipping his black coffee in one hand while his other is holding his sleek black tablet which projects a hologram version of the morning paper. 

“Do you know Dr. Ivannikov?” Y/N asks after Zayne places his coffee mug on the kitchen table.

Zayne doesn’t look away from the newspaper, “The plastic surgeon? Yeah I know him.” 

“Is he any good?”

Zayne shifts his gaze from his tablet to glance at his girlfriend, “Why?”

Known for his attention to detail, Zayne doesn't miss the minute way Y/N’s shoulders tense and how forced her causal tone is.

“No reason.”

Curious, Zayne puts away his tablet and pays his full attention to Y/N who is avoiding his questioning gaze.

Zayne stares. Intense and demanding for answers. Maybe it’s the jealousy of having another doctor brought up in the little haven or the fact Y/N is being secretive that has him frowning, unaware of how suffocating he’s being.

“I want to get breast implants.” The words pass through Y/N’s lips in a rushed whisper. Embarrassment dripping from every word. 

Zayne blinks as he tries to register what he heard. “I’m sorry?” he leans in closer, “I didn’t catch that.”

Y/N groans but she can’t escape Zayne’s hunger for curiosity.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs, still refusing to meet Zayne’s hazel green eyes. “I just don’t think they look nice. Every time I shop for clothes, they don’t compliment me at all. I want to buy those sexy lingerie but I’m too flat to show off anything. And…”

This time, she does meet Zayne’s gaze as she continues, “I’m worried you don’t find me all that attractive.”

Now that Zayne thinks about it, Y/N’s confession does explain why their most intimate moments were always done in the dark. He assumed that it’s because Y/N is shy and embarrassed but now he knows better.

“I can call him right now if you want and have the surgery for tomorrow.” Zayne states. As he leans back into his chair, he doesn’t miss the dejection shadowing Y/N’s beautiful face.

“But I’ll only do it if you really want this. I am a little hurt that you think of me as a shallow person and that you’d rather go through extreme measures than expressing your concerns with me but since it’s your body then it’s your choice to do whatever you want with it.” He finishes by crossing his arms across his chest.

Hearing all of that is like eating a bowl of needles; harsh and difficult to swallow. Y/N knows that Zayne is being logical but she thought he’d wax poems about her beauty. 

“What do you think, Zayne?” Y/N asks, heart beating in her ears in expectancy. 

“I think,” Zayne interlocks his fingers and rests his chin on them, “That you’re perfect the way you are.”

Y/N hears Zayne clear as crystal but she doesn’t process what he said, “What?”

“I don’t think the implants are necessary and I love how you appear. As I said earlier, however, if that’s what You want then I’m not going to stop you.” Zayne simply shrugs.

A volcano erupts in Y/N’s tummy and fills it up with millions of fluttering butterflies. She pushes her chair back and walks to where is sitting across from her. She invites herself on his lap and wraps her arms around his shoulders.

“I love you.” She kisses the tip of his nose, “Thank you for being honest.”

Zayne smiles at her. He brushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I love you too.”

Caleb:

It’s very rare for Y/N and Caleb to have a week off from work at the same time. Especially with how hectic their work is getting. Mountains of reports, long missions and sleepy nights. They’re at their wits end.

That’s why, when their schedule for July was released, they’re ecstatic to learn that they’ll be on break together. So they decided to take advantage of the heat and rent a vacation home at the beach located an hour away from Linkon.

“Hurry up! We’re gonna be late!” Caleb shouts at the bottom of the stairs as he glances at his wrist watches, “All the good spots will be gone.”

He and Y/N should’ve left the beach house ten minutes ago but Y/N is running late. Which is odd because Y/N is punctual and would rather eat chalk than be late to anything. 

Fed up with waiting, Caleb takes to the stairs by twos.

“I’m coming in!” He announces before opening Y/N’s bedroom door. 

He finds her standing in front of the full length mirror; hands on her hips as she twists and turns while examining her reflection. 

“Does this look weird?” Y/N asks while pointing at her pastel green halter top. 

Caleb’s ears are pretty pink when Y/N stands closer to him, as if the shorter distance will help him with his assessment. 

“I think they’re–it’s cute!”

Y/N groans, loud and unladylike. Her eyes roll as she clicks her tongue. “I don’t want you to think they’re cute, you should think they’re sexy!”

Wait. 

“What?” 

Caleb’s breath catches in his throat as the words are registered in his brain. “What?”

Again, Y/N rolls her eyes. “My tits. They should be hot. Not cute.” She explains as if she’s talking to someone is intellectually challenging. 

“Oh.”

Y/N sighs. 

“Just forget it.” Y/N turns to change into a tankini to save herself from the embarrassment but a tight grip holds her in place.

“They’re hot. You’re hot.” Caleb’s bounces between Y/N’s chest and her eyes, ears still pink but they’re much brighter than before.

“Now you’re just pitying me.” Y/N crosses her arms, a sour taste on her tongue at the thought of Caleb singing empty praises.

“No, I mean it! You’ve always been and I’ve always found you attractive.”

Y/N doesn’t trust Caleb’s confession despite how truthful and genuine it sounds.

“Really?” She quirks an eyebrow.

“Yes!” Caleb nods frantically. “Do you know how hard it is to fight off those filthy mutts drooling all over you?”

Heart hammering in her chest, Y/N lowers her arms, suddenly feeling shy. “You do that?”

“Yes!” Caleb doesn’t screech but it’s pretty close. “You’re smoking hot and it’s a fight to the death type of situation and I’ll be damned if I don’t come out victorious.”

It’s intense and all too much but his confession makes Y/N’s thoughts fuzzy. Warmth bubbles in her tummy and goosebumps prickle her skin as Caleb continues complimenting her.

“We don’t have to go swimming.” Y/N interrupts Caleb who is retelling an incident where he punched a guy for making a crewed comment about you. 

“What, why not?” He gasps because Y/N has been begging to go to the beach.

“Because we have a lot of things to talk about.” Y/N then shyly smiles at him, “Like when did you start liking me and how long I’ve been liking you.”

[oh-allie]

and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like...

dr ratio x fem!reader

(sorry if hes ooc i didnt know how to bring out his assholeyness on a first date withour having the reader standing up and leaving his ass)

pt. 2 of then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two

four days before the date.

you made veritas feel icky. his sweaty palms disgusted him, his jumbled thoughts made him feel like hiding in his study and never leaving, and the way even thinking of you made his heart race made him feel like a fool.

so he did what he does best, and he studied. he worked his ass off. researched breathing exercises and studied the human mind. the feelings he'd read about before, ones he swore he'd never stoop so low to feeling, were now what he seeked to bottle up. not completely, for he is still a man. just enough to not feel like such an idiot.

for the next four days before you two planned to meet, he practiced. in front of mirrors, lying in bed thinking of you; he worked day and night to get back to his normal self. he even suppressed his giddiness and raging thoughts about you enough to get two good days of work in.

7 hours before the date.

ratio is a methodical man. he plans and he executes.

he did not plan to wake up at 3 in the morning the day of your date. and he can’t get back to sleep. he's done his calming breathing exercises, he’s focused his muscle groups, hes counted sheep. he is NOT getting any more rest.

so now hes sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands like that one picture of shinji. a plethora of thoughts are racing through his head,

“what if i look like shit later today?

...i’ll need to wear concealer with my eyeliner today…

...i’m so fucking tired.”

but it's mainly you. what if he messes up, what if he's too rude or snarky? what if you don't really like who he is, like everyone else?

3 hours before the date.

you know how in films the dorky loser main character practices in front of the mirror before talking to their crush? veritas seemed to take it to heart, as he's standing here, leaning on his sink counter, staring at his own reflection (which he spent the last four hours on) and practicing what he’ll do.

his mind is organized and going over what he’ll do (although he's heavily suppressing the jumbled nervous thoughts that are running rampant in the back of his head) but it’s okay! ‘cause this doctor has a plan..!

talk about her outfit

ask her why she was interested in you

… the weather ?

surely the conversation will flourish from there. yeah. he’s totally prepared.

30 minutes before the date.

of course he’s 30 minutes early. if you’re early, you’re on time. if you're on time, you're late. and if you’re late? don’t bother showing up. that's his philosophy. although he's kinda hoping you don’t show up early too. his deep breathing exercises will take at least another 20 minut-

29 minutes before the date.

shit.

he watches as you enter the cafe, nodding to the barista and looking for a table. he notices you noticing him. your eyes light up and you sent a quick wave as you hurry over. but- wait, just a second- he’s not ready! he hasn't even started his affirmatio-

“hey! i guess we had the same idea, huh?” you chuckle, situating yourself and your bag onto your chair.

uh-oh, he’s just staring at you again. well, that's actually completely and totally 100% your fault! he was in the middle of DEEP-BREATHING. don’t interrupt a guy when he's breathing deeply.

“yes. we did. my philosophy on punctuality is that if you’re early, you’re on time. if you're on time, you're late. and if you’re late? don’t bother showing up.” he manages to get out. did that sound too snobbish?

“exactly! if you’re going somewhere, go with a purpose. even if that purpose is to get out as soon as possible, y’know?” you rest your head on your hand and make some relevant motion with the other one.

that's good! that's really good. he just had a conversation with you, just like he wanted. okay, okay. what now? what were his points?... outfit, interest, weather. outfit, interest, weather. outfit…

“are you going to order, veritas?” the sound of his own name from your tongue draws him back to reality. he’d like to hear that again.

“pardon me. yes, i’ll just take a black coffee.” he’s curt and in the back of his mind he's still deciding which point to bring up.

“sooo…. you look lovely. although i almost didn't recognize you without your alabaster head. i like it though.” you say, making small talk. he didn't mind it with you.

‘FUCK she beat me to it’ is what he’s thinking.

“thank you. you look beautiful, as always.” oooo he got you blushing and kicking your feet.

you let out a curt giggle at that, “so, why do you wear that? the alabaster head.” you cock your head to the side a little. you cutie patootie.

“i can’t bear to see idiots. of course, they wouldn't want to see me either.” he replies, matter of factly.

“they’re surely an idiot if they don't want to see you.”

haaah. veritas’ collar feels tighter and his head's getting hot. how's he supposed to react to that? do you have no shame?

and then he implodes because of your overwhelming beauty

okay guys i gotta be honest i have no idea how to conclude rhis ....so idk and then you guys bone or whatever you want ☺️

a/n - i'm so sorry about rhe ending gang but i quite literally could not think of any way to end this and ive been putting it off for weeks so i knew it wasnt getting finished.... whoops! 🤗

dedicated to 🌸 anon <3

(sorry for making you wait so long ml....... 😞)

[respectthepetty]

As if My Stand-In wasn't rude enough, remember that poster of Ming new Joe first saw when he was leaving the hospital?

It's the same shirt Ming was wearing when he broke Joe's heart.

And remember when I wrote Joe had core strength because he was lifting Ming's shirt up with his mouth since his hands were tied behind his back?

He is wearing the same hoodie in episode four's preview, which means Ming is probably going to do some real stupid shit for Tong.

Remember those ridiculous pillowcases Joe bought?

How could we ever forget them?!

They are laying on each other's in this scene. Ming is on Joe's and Joe is on Ming's.

But Ming takes his when Wut shows up.

Oh, and in the trailer, Joe is laying on his.

And Ming is leaning on his.

And they are clearly in Joe's house because the picture on the nightstand is the same as the first time they had sex.

But . . .

On the very first night they tried to have sex, Ming was wearing white pants and Joe had on these yellow-ish boxers.

And in the trailer they are wearing the same outfits, YET we didn't get THIS scene in the first episode.

BUT . . . those damn matching pillows are on the couch.

They normally are on the couch AFTER JOE BOUGHT THEM!

So that scene from the trailer isn't their first night together. It's later! But how much later? Because these bowls show up in odd places too.

You know, the green and gold bowls Joe bought before Ming broke his heart?

The ones they ate off of like a cute couple when Wut brought them food?

Yeah, the bowl is behind Joe in this scene from the trailer.

And that shirt is the same shirt under this jacket from this scene in the trailer.

Ming is also wearing the blue watch in this scene.

And we know Ming had that suit in the past because it was hanging in his closet.

And we know the fight continues to the house because of this promo picture.

Which would make sense why Ming is sitting there all sad with the green and gold bowls waiting for Joe to return.

BUT . . . why would they be kissing by the gold and green bowls if they are breaking up in episode four and Joe is about to die?

So either Ming wakes up, Joe says nothing, Ming puts in a great effort to cook and sex up his man, only to fuck him over for Tong which leads to them fighting in the street and death.

Or Ming is still living in Joe's house in the future with their green and gold bowls and king of heart pillowcases and we will see those two scenes later.

Or Ming could eff over Joe and still be living in his house two years later since this is the same guy who broke a man's heart in a blue and red striped shirt and wore that same exact shirt a year and a half later when he started working for the same company his ex worked for.

Which is something he never had an interest in.

So to recap, Ming is possibly a sentimental asshole who has been holding onto meaningful items and conversations from his relationship for the past two years and he is acting because he no longer wants to be himself since he doesn't have Joe.

Cool beans!

[storiesabouteli]

There He Was. // Elijah Hewson X Reader! (Fluff)

prompt: just a short fic about u2 (i'm sorry lol) realizing they're in love after you've had a bad date.

words: 1,8K.

  Your elbows had the marks from Ali's table edge, and she watched you carefully, as if she understood but didn't judge. You were afraid of going home and facing a different reality, so you sought refuge at Eli's house. Your chest felt heavy, though no tears fell, just brief moments of misty eyes that quickly faded.

 "Did he treat you badly?" Her voice was firm, maternal. She gently rubbed your shoulders and placed a glass of water in front of you. Ali had known you since you could remember and always seemed to understand what you needed, even if she didn’t say it outright.

 "It was strange. He treats me well when we're alone, but the problem is when we're with others." You didn’t elaborate much, not fully certain of your own feelings, or maybe you just didn’t want to be. Ali nodded, showing she was there for you. Your eyes drifted down the hallway as you questioned why you ended up there after such a terrible date. The picture of Eli on the wall reminded you of his first girlfriend and how he used to take time during band rehearsals to explain inside jokes to her, ensuring she felt included. You longed to be treated like that, to be cherished. But instead, you had someone who seemed tired of you in public.

 "Hey," Eli’s voice startled you, making you smile softly amid your inner chaos. His voice was rough and slow, probably because he was getting ready for bed. "What’re you doin’ here?" he asked, surprised. His oversized shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his pajama pants made him look like he was begging for a hug, especially with his messy hair.

 Ali glanced between the two of you, giving Eli room to sit next to you. As she left the room with a soft kiss on your forehead, you realized you and Eli were just staring at each other—not in an awkward way, but not entirely normal either. You felt a knot forming in your throat as you admitted, "I don’t think he really likes me."

 Eli sighed, adjusting in the chair beside you, his shoulder touching yours. The small gesture lightened the weight in your chest. "What did he do?" His voice was more alert now as he gently brushed your hair from your face, looking at you as if the situation were more serious than it seemed. Eli tolerated him out of respect for you, but it was clear he never liked the guy.

 "Nothing, I’m fine," you swallowed hard, but Eli's raised eyebrows made it clear he was waiting for you to go on. You felt stupid—you should have seen it coming. There was a reason he avoided you in the hallways or didn’t walk with you near his friends. He was older, attractive, and sweet when you were alone, but you had been just a distraction for someone you thought you could rely on longer.

 "You were so excited to go out with him today. I’m sorry it wasn’t what you expected." The tears returned, blurring your vision. You had never gone out with anyone before, but you had spent years watching Eli go through relationships, each one seeming good in its own way. You thought you could have the same, that it would be a positive experience. You craved the experience, not necessarily the person.

 Eli lightly held your hand, tracing it with his thumb. He was patient, despite his clear restlessness. "It was a mess. I thought I’d meet his friends, make new ones, and that it would be fun, you know? But..." You trailed off, watching the soft light in the room and Eli’s familiar curls from childhood, feeling a warm sensation in your chest. You continued, describing things Eli had never made you feel.

 "I ended up alone most of the time. He’d ask me to wait, disappear, and then come back like nothing had happened. The only interaction we had was when he made a vulgar comment about my outfit, and his friends laughed with him. It was so embarrassing. I don’t even know how I got into this situation," you chuckled weakly. "I don’t want to see him again, Eli."

 He scratched his chin, exhaling heavily, unable to hide his irritation. It wasn’t an overreaction—you knew him well. "I feel a bit stupid, and I should’ve paid attention when you didn’t like him," you admitted. Eli looked at you with a faint smile on his lips.

 "Him being an idiot isn’t your fault, and his behavior is just a reflection of his bad character." You hadn’t expected Eli to throw an "I told you so" in your face, but he proved to be exactly the person Eli had hinted at when he first commented about him. You had been blind, assuming those comments were more about how you’d spend less time with Eli now that you had someone else to hang out with.

 Eli stretched out his arm, pulling you toward him. Your head fell onto his shoulder, your cheek resting against the soft fabric of his shirt, his scent soothing you. You lifted your head briefly, meeting his caramel eyes fixed on you, and it felt right to be there. Resting your head back, you wrapped your arms around his waist, falling silent.

 Eli looked at you for a long moment, wondering how much the guy had hurt you. You had been happy to have someone new, but your conversations always circled back to the same issues, and Eli knew that no matter what you said, nothing would change. He noticed the waves of your hair, the makeup accentuating your eyes, and the form-fitting dress. He couldn’t remember when he first started thinking of you like this, but he realized now that you were beautiful—and maybe this wasn’t the first time he had caught himself contemplating it. The yellow jacket you wore made him wonder if it was a response to the jerk’s comment.

 He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You were always so talkative around him, so your silence bothered him. It made him want to fix things, as if he couldn’t bear to see someone he cared about so much feeling down.

 "Are you stayin’ here tonight?" he asked, eyes closed, still holding you.

 "Can I?"

…

 You could still feel his rings brushing against your fingers, a familiar, comforting sensation, much like the freckles on his face, which even in the moonlight seemed to exist just for you. Eli couldn’t sleep. You stayed in his bed while he settled on a mattress on the floor beside you, and the scent of you on the fabric brought him a quiet sense of peace. The silence spoke volumes, both of you knowing exactly what the other was thinking without uttering a single word. The next day dragged on, unremarkable yet heavy. You didn’t see him in the morning—you left for work right away. But you were glad to have seen Ali, thanking her for having welcomed you the night before and for making Eli in '99 so he can be good company for you these days.

  Ali’s warm embrace, her knowing smile—things you hadn’t realized you’d been craving for so long—left you wondering how long you had been blind to it. As you sorted through a stack of new CDs, deciding which ones to keep and which to shelve, the day felt oddly clear, as if a veil had been lifted. It dawned on you: your relationship with him wasn’t about seeking the experience you thought you wanted, but the experience you truly needed—with Eli. This wasn’t some fleeting teenage desire to kiss him passionately; it was deeper. You found yourself thinking about him all day, anticipating the next moment you could be near him because his presence simply made you feel good. And now that you realized it, you knew it wasn’t the first time you’d felt this way.

 Sure, you wanted to kiss him, but more than that, you wanted to rest your head on his shoulder, nap while he kissed the top of your head, and feel his fingers gently brushing your arm. The guys from last night came into the store, acting like they didn’t know you. Maybe they didn’t remember, but it didn’t matter—you felt out of place standing there in your uniform, weighed down by memories of the night before. You heard there had been a fight involving him, and you didn’t feel bad hoping the worst for him. They paid without looking you in the eye, and you became aware that was all they had to offer—nothing.

 You didn't like your uniform, that made it worse at that very moment, and then your thoughts drifted to Eli. He’d see you like this. He had seen you countless times before wearing that thing, but now you wondered—had he ever thought of you as more than just a childhood friend? Even with the mucus, bad uniforms, showing up with problems in the middle of the night, and poor taste in partners? As if summoned by your thoughts, there he was. 

 Eli walked into the store, head down, hair covering his face. Straightening up, you smiled at him, trying your best to look decent. "Did you bring food?" you asked, reaching for the bags in his hands, already greasy. He nodded, "Thought burgers and fries might brighten your day." You smiled, taking them in your hands, and noticed how his mood lifted to match yours. He could easily feel happy if you were.

 He lingered by the counter, giving you a shy smile when you turned to face him. You stared at him, noticing the redness around his eye—not a big mark, but sure to get worse with time. You couldn’t picture Eli in a fight; it wasn’t his nature, nor was he built for it. Asking him what happened would be pointless—you knew the answer, and he would deny it. Wiping your fingers, you walked over to him, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. "Was it bad? You’re not hurt more than this, are you?" Concern welled up, stinging your eyes. You've had the feeling of having him there for you when you needed him before, it was just more intense. He hugged you tighter, and you could feel his tension ease. "He’s worse off." You both laughed at it, as if it were mundane.

 You weren’t sure if it was true, but you couldn’t deny the satisfaction of imagining the jerk guy bruised. It was hard to believe anyone would do that for you, you were glad it was Eli. The thought crossed your mind—did he feel the same way? Has he thought of you like this before? His fingers traced soft circles on your back, his lips brushing your hair, his warm chest a steady comfort against your cheek as your breathing fell into sync. "Thank you, Eli, but don’t do something like that again. I prefer you in one piece." His laugh rumbled through you, and it made you calm. Eli had told his mother earlier that morning he wouldn’t let you go through more bad people before finding the good one. He thought, maybe, you’d be his next song if you’d only let him.

[baocean]

kiss me at midnight - jj maybank

summary - it was new year’s eve, and you were finally carrying out the idea to tell jj how you felt. and in the perfect way, by kissing him at midnight

warnings - alcohol, mentions of smoking

a/n - happy new year to everyone! i hope this year brings so much good! 🍸🪅🙌🏼🩵

tonight was the night your plan was finally going to pull through.

you had ran through every senario for tonight, getting yourself ready for whatever happened.

it was new year’s eve, yours friends were holding a party at their house, one they hilariously called poguelandia.

you had spent longer than you wanted to admit getting ready, but it paid off. you looked good.

you were sure your target wasn’t going to be wearing anything other than a cut off top and some dirty backwards hat.

really, for him, it didn’t matter what you were wearing. to jj maybank, you always looked like an angel.

you knew that as well, he had never tried to hide how he felt about you.

jj was relentless. calling you pet names, touching you any chance he got, complimenting you with creative, and borderline insane praise.

but until recently, you didn’t feel the same way. you had only liked jj for two or so weeks, waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell him.

so, you were gonna show up, flirt a little, then kiss him at midnight, if everything went right.

kie had texted you a few minutes ago repeatedly asking where you were as you pulled up to the house.

it was packed, a much bigger turn out than you were expecting.

the front door was open, people filtering in and out. there were groups litered around the grass and the porch, laughter and music sounding through the night.

a few people said hi to you, stopping you to compliment how you looked tonight, wishing you a happy new year.

you walked into the kitchen, spotting your friends standing around the kitchen table.

cleo saw you first, shamelessly tapping jj on the shoulder and pointing your direction.

he turned, a huge smile crossing his face immediately, dodging through the crowd to get to you.

he didn’t pass up the opportunity to look you up and down, take you in completely.

“wowwww. mama, i wasn’t sure i could get any down bad for you, but you proved me wrong.” he joked, pulling you into a hug.

you were right, jj was wearing a t shirt and that same ratty hat he always wore. and unfortunately he looked good as ever.

you pulled away, tucking your hair behind you ear. “i’m serious, im gonna picture you in that outfit when im on my death bed.”

you laughed, again, hitting his shoulder. “thanks, j. that’s really romantic.”

you stepped around him to greet your friends, hugging each one of them.

“you look gorgeous. i’m worried jj might explode.” sarah whispered in your ear, laughing along with you.

“thanks baby mama, you look just as.” you kissed her cheek, grabbing a seltzer for you and a water for your newly pregnant friend.

you returned to your friends, leaning against the counter. jj, of course, found his way next to you, throwing his arm on the counter around the back of you. his fingers came to touch your waist, tapping them a few times before letting them sit there.

he was a little high, you could tell from the way he kept taking his hand away to snap his fingers. it was a second nature after he smoked.

you smiled at your friends, so content that this was so normal for you two already.

you made your rounds, said hi to old friends and introducing yourself to new people.

jj was never far behind, you introduced yourself as a pair most times.

it was closer to midnight, the small moments between you and him made you even more giddy to see what happened later.

at some point, jj disappeared from your side, going to hang out with some of his friends from high school.

you were standing on one side of the living room, being talked up to by some guy.

you looked for your blonde, in between fake smiles and uninterested nods and ‘uh huh’s’.

you found him on the other side of the room, staring right back at you. the corner of his mouth lifted up into a smirk when he saw how indifferent you were.

he looked so nice like this, while his eyes bore into you over the cup he was drinking from. eyes having their own silent conversation.

you jerked your head to the side, signaling for him to help you get out of this situation.

in no time, jj was by your side, slinging a heavy arm over your shoulders.

“baby, come help me grab more beer, please?” he pointed towards you, pulling you into him.

“oh, hey jj.” the kook said, giving the blonde an awkward smile.

“hey. what’s your name, again?” he replied, earning you a chuckle you hid in his chest.

“um, addison.”

“yea, nice to meet you. so, babe?” jj turned back to you, pulling you away as both of you gave addison a simple wave goodbye.

“thanks, j.” you tapped his chest, following him as he brought you to his room, closing the door behind him.

his room was messy, but smelled like his cologne and fresh scent from the air spray he used.

you backed up onto his bed, laying down against it, sighing deeply.

he watched you, creeping over to the bed, waiting for you to object. jj sat next to you, leaning back.

your phone buzzed, as you pulled it out you noticed the time.

“oh my gosh, it’s five minutes to midnight already.” you giggled, throwing your phone to the side.

“interesting. you get me into a room alone when its conveniently almost midnight. i see right through you, mama.”

your heart raced, but you rolled your eyes and laughed instead.

“you’re the one who led me in here. i thought we were grabbing more beer, babe?” you added emphasis to the last word, rolling onto your side.

“you were the one who chose me to get you out of a perfectly good midnight kiss.” he followed your action, rolling onto his side, letting his head fall onto his hand.

you were stumped, because he was right. it was jj you wish were flirting with you instead of a scrawny man named addison.

so, you smiled, shrugged your shoulders.

“you look so hot.” he closed his eyes and groaned. laughing out loud, you rolled over, letting half your body fall onto his.

you audibly heard jj’s breath hitch, wanting to laugh at his shamelessness.

“thanks, j. you look pretty, too.” you blushed, throwing your head on his shoulder.

the two of you just looked at each other, completely barefaced. it was the same features you’ve known for seven years, but it never got tiring to look at him.

you knew him as well as you knew youself. his lip curved up a little to the left and his eyes crinkled on the side from smiling so much. you were pretty sure his eyes got darker when he was tired. there was a birthmark on his back you swore looked like the shape of italy.

you heard the people at the party start counting down to ten, and jj shot up, taking you in the process.

“oh shit, cmon let’s go back out there.” he grabbed your hand and turned towards the door just as your friends screamed ‘five’.

you pulled him back to face you, stopping him in his tracks. he smiled at you for a second, but when he realized what was happening, his smile dropped.

he looked down at your lips for a split second, getting confirmation he wasn’t just imagining this when you smiled.

you didn’t get a chance to initiate anything, because jj pulled you against him and was kissing you before you realized it.

the action was quick, but the was jj was kissing you was soft and patient, almost like he’d been waiting seven years to do this.

his hands slid around the back of your neck and into your hair.

your arms unconsciously slid around his neck, linking your hands with each other.

jj spun you around so your back hit the door, grunting in the process and he pushed his body farther against yours.

he pulled away, looking almost pained to do so. “happy new year.”

you grinned at him, pecking his lips again. “happy new year, j.”

“if im being honest i think i might be dreaming.” jj let go of you, running a hand through his hair.

you just laughed, blissfully high off how jj kissed you. you suddenly wanted to let him in on your own secret.

“can i tell you something?” you asked him, he nodded.

you leaned against him, blushing up at him. “i had a plan to kiss you tonight. i planned it, like, a week ago.”

surprise painted his face, then, he was laughing. you giggled along with him as he wrapped his arms around you.

“i had the same plan.” he said through fits of laughter, throwing his head back in the process.

“yea, all my friends were in on it. i was gonna do it outside and just hope someone on the water was going to launch fireworks. but this, this is much better.” jj ducked down to give you another kiss.

“well, we shouldn’t keep them wondering.” you smiled, getting pulled out of the room by your blonde.

you were greeted by your friends, cheering and laughing when they saw you two.

jj, with an arm around you, pulling you in to kiss your cheek. you with an arm around his waist, bunching his tshirt in your fist.

“glad your plan worked, jayj.” kie tipped her drink towards the both of you.

he looked down at you, with the same look he always had, and smiled. “yea, me too.”

[aviradasa]

Hello! hope you’re doing fine!

i saw your headcanons about Larry and i was wondering if you could do the same with a goth fem reader pleaseee??

take care of you !

YES!

Larry x Goth!Fem! Reader

Dude this is one of my fav tropes I love you sm

Larry with a goth chicken is like peanut butter and Nutella bro.

That shit is heavenly.Yall are so perfect.

He treats you like a damn goddess.

(Cause you are one duh)

I mean like if you asked him to jump off a bridge, he would 100% no questions asked he would just be like "Yes ma'am." And do it.

You never open doors anymore. His mom raised him right.

I don't care how generic it is this man is whipped, and nobody can do shit about it.

He's happy here ok.

His favorite thing, though, is helping you sew together new outfits if you DIY your clothes.

He especially likes adding the spikes it's honestly an adhd trap (trust me bro that shit will have you in a trance.)

He's also really good at sewing on patches, so they don't fall off.

You guys just love being creative together.

He will paint you.

So

Many

Times

Every new makeup look and outfit inspires him, and he's just like

"Wait, don't move." And will take a picture to paint later.

Your favorite is this beautiful portrait he did where he painted you as a ghost haunting an abandoned asylum.

It's hung above your bed 🖤🖤

Also he will share music with you.

Even though he's mostly one of those.

"I only listen to metal (◣_◢) " guys, he will let you force him to listen to your music.

He secretly likes it.

Will never admit that tho

Also, if you wanna randomly dance with him in the middle of the woods, count him in.

Just sayinnnn

He's a surprisingly good dancer.

He wants to dance with you.

Dance with this man.

Please.

Moving onto other things though

He hates when people give you judgmental looks.

He don't give a damn how they look at him, but when they are looking at you dirty, it just pisses him off to no end.

And you normally don't even care what others think

. Being goth kinda comes with strange looks and people being assholes unfortunately. But so does being a metalhead.

He knows that to he just doesn't like it.

He just cares about you and is like "why yall lookin at my beautiful girl like that?"

To him, those people don't deserve to have the privilege of looking at you.

Ain't he sweet??? 🖤

Omg I can't yall are just so perfect 😭😭

And don't even think for a moment that Lisa would have any issue.

That woman adores you.

She asks you to do her wedding makeup because your makeup is always so nice.

She teaches you and Larry new ways to sew and stitch things.

We love Lisa she's so sweet!!

And after a while, even sal warms up to you being around more.

You and sal sometimes clown on Larry in a joking way, of course, and you all have a laugh.

Sal kinda becomes like a brother to you as well once you and Larry are together awhile.

Nobody in that family judges you cause at heart they are all some spooky mfs as well.

You and Larry are the cutest and i love it and nothing could be better than this omg.

It's so damn cute i can't.

Yooo, another short one, but I gotta get these out in time for spooky season!!! I'm gonna go back to writing actual pics soon so stay tuned!!

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

Date Day Pt. 2

Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 17 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU Trigger Warning: Midly suggestive comment made, creepy behavior, and technical assault (reader gets grabbed)

Masterlist | Next Part

You got a message as you were getting ready. Having just finished taking a shower, you checked your phone to see that it was Sophie, who had sent you some memes and a sweet message asking how you were. You answered truthfully telling her you were good but still getting used to a new place. After a second to consider it, you sent her a photo of your two favorite outfit ideas with a question mark.

She answered back immediately.

Sophie oooh, date night? the first one looks really good, the second one is a little too revealing let me know how it goes :) Y/N yeah, first date. kinda nervous wish me luck!

The flood of sweet messages that followed made you smile. You took the outfit she had chosen (which included a beautiful soft sweater that just so happened to match Felixs’) and put it on. You finish getting ready just in time to hear a knock on the door, and you grab your keys and phone before opening the door.

You pause, and then hold up a finger. “Give me a second.”

For your birthday a year prior, you had been given a polaroid camera. The first few weeks you had been obsessed, taking pictures of everything and anything just to shake the polaroids out and feel cool doing it, but eventually you had gotten over it. The camera had been rediscovered in the process of packing your bags, and you had brought it along on a whim.

The sight waiting for you at the front door felt like the perfect opportunity to use it.

Felix and Hyunjin were both caught off guard when you snapped the first photo, but as you shake out the photo, they quickly get excited. They both pose for the second photo without you even having to ask. You hold up the first polaroid as the second one develops, showing it to the two boys with a smile as they crowd next to you to take a look.

Breathtakingly beautiful, and yet somehow homey, you were surprised that Hyunjin had toned down his date outfit compared to what he would normally wea. He had picked an all-black outfit that wouldn’t stand out so easily but still managed to make him look like a hundred bucks. He had his hair slicked back, and you knew his face would mostly be covered with a mask while out in public, but in the photo you could appreciate his model good looks in full.

Felix somehow managed to look ethereal, even with wide eyes of surprise. His mouth was slightly parted, having caught sight of the camera just before you took the photo. His hair was slightly messy, freckles barely seen with the washed-out coloring of the polaroid, but he looked just as beautiful as always, even though he was slightly blurry.

“Yah, a little warning would have been nice,” Felix said, even though he smiled down at the photo.

Hyunjin was already looking at the second. “Ah, this one came out so good. Do you mind if I take a photo of it?”

“Don’t go posting any photos on social media just yet. You don’t want fans to recognize you,” You warned.

“I know,” Hyunjin said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll post it later.”

You hear another snap and look back at Felix just in time to see him shaking out one last polaroid, and you roll your eyes. He smirks.

“Had to get one of you too. Especially when you look so breathtaking.”

“Hmm, they’d look so pretty in a photo shoot, wouldn’t they,” Hyunjin muttered, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as he takes a photo of the polaroid. “All the beautiful clothes they could wear.”

Felix eyes the photo he took of you. “I think they’d look prettier if they weren’t wearing anything at all.”

“Felix!”

“Sorry babe,” He said, not looking sorry at all.

-0-0-

You weren’t normally a big fan of museums. The paintings were pretty enough, but they never really spoke to you the same way you assumed it did to more artistic people, like Hyunjin. Still, the instillation that he had brought you two for your date was not only the most colorful thing you had ever had the pleasure of walking through, but somehow also very open in its meaning.

You noticed it from the very first room you three walked in. It was covered in colorful strings, which at first just looked pretty, but from certain points in the room the strings would line up just right enough for an image to form. You spotted a butterfly first, and then what looked like a leaf.

Felix waved you over from the furthest corner, joined by two teenagers and a family of three.

“It’s the cocoon. I’m guessing that there’s a caterpillar somewhere,” he told you.

You looked around until you spotted another small group of people in a spot you hadn’t been to before. After pointing it out to him, the two of you walked over hand in hand to find that it was indeed the spot where the strings formed a caterpillar, and he grinned, leading you around the room to watch the entire process take place. You met back up with Hyunjin at the door to the next room, and he eyed your joined hands with a smirk.

“How are you liking the colors?” He asked Felix.

Felix looked back at the strings with wide eyes. “I’m more surprised they managed to form different images with the same strings.”

“Hmm, I think you’ll like this one too.”

Hyunjin led the two of you into the next room. The walls and sectioned off parts of the floor had what you assumed were cotton, only they were dyed in soft pastel colors that matched the soft pastel ombre of the walls and floors. The cotton in the sectioned of portions had small entrances, where workers would allow small groups of 3 or 4 people walk across the ground barefoot. Felix let out a small sound in surprise.

“Wow. It’s like the colors are … only kind of there, but still there. So white.”

You hummed. “I think it’s supposed to be the sky. Look, it’s mostly blue, red, orange, and pink. It’s like a sunset.”

“The cotton is the clouds,” Hyunjin agreed, taking Felix’s other hand. “Want to go walk on the clouds with me?”

Felix nodded, and the three of you made it over to the sectioned off portion. You had to wait a few minutes in the line to walk across, and the worker warned you all to walk slowly and to be careful, but once you felt the ‘clouds’ under your feet you knew that it was worth the wait. You were also immediately sure that it wasn’t cotton you were walking on.

“It’s so soft!” Felix exclaimed, wiggling his toes.

The boys waddled ahead of you, Hyunjin even reaching down to touch whatever you were walking on with his own hands in awe.

It really did feel like you were walking on a cloud.

The second installation wasn’t as interactive as the first two. It consisted of multiple pop-art paintings hanged around the room, and Hyunjin was more than eager to explain some of them to Felix. You, however, made your way around the room quickly, and with a quick thumbs up from the boys to show that it was okay, you advanced to the next room by yourself.

This one truly stumped you. You weren’t sure what it was, no matter how long you looked at it. It was a large pane of glass that nearly split the room in two, and splatters of paint littered across the glass. There were lots of dark blue and green peeking out in spots, but most of the glass was covered in bright red splatters, like someone had launched buckets of paint right at it.

You must have spent a long time staring at the art piece trying to understand because Hyunjin and Felix caught up to you, Hyunjin wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it,” he murmured.

You blinked. “I don’t get it.”

He pointed out the green and blue splotches on the edge. “It’s supposed to be the earth. The blue and green is the planet, and the red represents … well, I guess you could take it literally as blood covering the earth. But I think it does a good job of representing violence, pain, anger, evil. Its pretty open to interpretation.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding in understanding. “Huh, I never would have thought of that.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “He’s just reading the information packet we were handed at the entrance.”

“You mean the one I stuffed in my bag and haven’t looked at since we got here?” You said sheepishly, reaching for the now crumbled paper.

Hyunjin laughed.

Felix began to wander off towards the other side of the room, but Hyunjin stayed with you as you started to read through the packet, learning about the artists of each piece and the meaning behind them. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin against your shoulder, slowly rocking the two of you side to side.

You giggled. “I can’t read if you keep moving me.”

“You don’t need that anyways. I’ll explain everything to you,” he assured you.

“I’m sure you’ll do a better job anyways,” You said, giving up and deciding you’ll finish the packet back at home. “I love the way you explain things. I love the way you see things.”

“I just appreciate all the little things, the beauty in life. It makes all the big things that much more meaningful.”

“Like what?”

He pressed his mask up against your cheek in leu of a kiss, and you leaned back into his embrace. “Like you.”

“You’re such a romantic.”

“Hmm.”

The two of you stood there for another minute, softly rocking back and forth. You closed your eyes and let his warmth wash over you, the feel of his skin on yours, his chest expanding and retracting as he breathed, his soft humming in your ear.

You smiled. “You mean the world to me.”

He just held you tighter in response.

-0-0-

You had once again managed to wander ahead of the boys. You decided to wait for them in a quitter section, sitting down on a bench and scrolling through your phone as you waited. A family walked through, their chatter filling the small room, but they eventually moved on, and you took a second to observe the painting in front of you.

It was pretty, not as colorful as some of the other pieces you had seen today, but you imagined it had some deeper meaning you didn’t quite get.

A guy a little bit older than you sits down on the bench next to you, and you quickly move you bag closer to your body, scooting to the side with a small nod. The two of you sit in silence, looking at the painting, before he suddenly speaks up.

“It’s amazingly intricate, isn’t it,” he says, voice deep.

“Oh, I guess,” You murmur.

He tilts his head, still staring at the painting. “I’m in awe of the technique. Don’t think I could replicate something that beautiful even if I tried.”

You hummed in agreement.

There was a moment of silence, and then he spoke up again, this time turning to look at you fully. “What do you think about it?”

“Oh, I’m not much of an art person,” You explained. “I’m actually just waiting for someone.”

The man narrows his eyes, nods his head for a few seconds, and then shoots you a blinding smile. “Are you a foreigner?”

You hesitate. “Yes?”

“Your Korean is very good.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“You know, foreigners usually learn a lot from sleeping with Korean men.”

He said the words so nonchalantly, so bluntly, that it took you of guard for a second. You couldn’t even find yourself getting angry or scandalized, because you were just so in shock that someone would even say something like that out loud. It was only then that you acknowledged how uncomfortable he was making you.

You grimaced, standing up. “Right. I think I’m just going to-“

“Yah, leaving so soon?” He says, grabbing your arm as you try to pass by.

The room was empty. There was nobody around, and there was a strange man grabbing you, and it took everything you had not scream. Maybe you should scream. Should you scream? Should you hit him? You began to panic, not sure what to do.

His grip tightened. “Hey, there’s no need to be afraid. I just want to talk.”

“Let go of me.”

You tried to sound authoritative, but you voice wavered. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and it felt like someone was squeezing it. You try to pull your arm away, but the sudden recoil of the action only has you falling towards the man. The second his other hand touches your hip, you jolt past your hesitation and slam straight into outrage.

“Let go of me!” You yell, pushing against his chest with all your might.

The action forces him to let go, and you stumble back. You’re tempted to run, and for a split second you almost do, but then the loud laugh of a kid gains the attention of the man.

Two kids run into the room, followed by a very anxious mother trying to get them to quiet down. The woman and kids seem to be part of a group, and the small room slowly starts to fill with people. You turn around to look for the man, but he’s already gone.

The kids laugh loudly again.

You rush towards the bathroom as you feel your eyes starting to sting with tears, anger making your body feel hot and fuzzy. It wasn’t until you were in the empty room that you realized your bag was vibrating. You pull out your phone, eyes widening at the 4 missed calls and dozen texts Chan had sent you. Before you can read any of them, he’s calling again.

“Are you okay?” Is the first thing he says the moment you answer.

“I’m okay,” You say instinctively, but then you pause. “I … actually, I don’t know if I am okay.”

“What happened. Where are you?”

“I’m still at the museum, I’m fine … physically. It’s- there was a guy, he said something gross, and he grabbed me. He’s gone now, but it just kind of freaked me out.”

You looked down to your arm, which felt strangely cold from the man’s touch. You felt slimy just thinking about his hands on you.

“Where are the boys?” Chan questioned, and you put him on speaker so you could wash your hands.

“I don’t know. I was waiting for them, and this creep just walked up to me.” You took a deep breath. “I think I’m okay. I just need a minute.”

“Take as long as you need sweetheart.”

You scrubbed your arm with soap in hopes of elevating the disgust, but the harder you scrubbed the more your skin began to sting, so you gave up. You dried off and took a second to just stare at the mirror. The anger was still there, so was the fear, but mostly you just felt tired. You shook your head, picking your phone back up.

“I think I’m good. I’m really sorry I freaked you out,” you told Chan.

“Don’t ever apologize for something that isn’t your fault.” He let out a sigh. “Are you sure the guy is gone?”

You peeked your head out of the bathroom. “Yeah, I don’t see him. I think he got spooked by the other people who showed up.”

Chan swore on the other end, in both Korean and English. “Do you think you can find Hyunjin or Felix?”

“Yeah, I’ll look for them. I’m sorry you had to feel that. I’m sure you’re busy.” You wandered back to the room you had just been in, but there was no sign of the boys. “I can call you back later.”

“I mean absolutely no offense to you sweetheart, but you must be out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m hanging up right now.”

You let out a small laugh. “Fair enough.”

It was comforting, knowing Chan was on the phone as you made your way around the museum. Even though you were sure you weren’t in any real danger, and the rooms you walked through were full of people, you knew deep down that you wouldn’t have felt as safe as you did now if Chan wasn’t there, even if it was just him breathing on the other end.

You finally spotted Hyunjin first, letting out a sigh of relief. “I found them.”

Hyunjin looked up with a smile as you ran up to him, but his smile quickly dropped when he saw your face. “Are you okay?”

“Let me talk to him,” Chan said, and you quickly handed over the phone.

Felix wandered over when he spotted the two of you. He noticed the tense atmosphere between the two of you, and he placed a hand on your arm in worry as Hyunjin’s face began to pull down in worry and anger.

“What’s going on?”

You licked your lips and took a deep breath. “Some guy grabbed me, I freaked out. Chan felt it.”

“Wait, some guy grabbed you?” Felix dropped his hand and looked you over in worry. He gently lifted your arm in shock, and you realized that there was a small red mark from where you had been grabbed. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“It’s fine, I’m just pissed he got away.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Hyunjin said, and he quickly said something in Korean so fast you couldn’t even begin to understand. “Hyung, I’m calling the cops.”

“The hell you are,” you exclaimed, grabbing the phone out of his hand. “Are you insane?”

“This guy hurt you,” Hyunjin argued.

“That guy is a creep, I won’t argue with you on that, but he didn’t hurt me. He grabbed my arm a little tight, but I’ve been hurt worse by walking into a table.”

“He put his hands on you.” Felix said.

“And what do you plan on doing? Looking for him? Yelling at him? You don’t even know if he’s still here!”

“I’ll have the museum security find out who he is. I’ll track him down myself if I have to,” Hyunjin said.

“Right sure, I can see the headlines now. Stray Kids Hyunjin arrested for attacking a man who was a creep to his soulmate.” You smacked his shoulder. “What happened to keeping a low profile?”

Felix grabbed your hand. “Baby, this guy should have never touched you. What he did was not okay-“

“I know. Believe me, I know.” You interrupted. “But he’s gone now. And I’m not going to let you guys expose yourselves just to … defend my honor. He didn’t do anything that would warrant more than a slap on the wrist. It’s not worth it.”

You could tell neither one was satisfied, but something on your face must have convinced them, because they quickly conceded. You only then remembered you were still on a call with Chan, and you quickly brought the phone back up to your face and asked if he was still there.

“I’m still here,” Chan said softly.

“You get all that?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“I’m hanging up on you now.”

“Please, be safe.”

You smiled. “I will.”

The words ‘I love you’ burned on the tip of your tongue, begging to be released, but you swallowed them down.

It didn’t feel right.

Not yet.

-0-0-

Even though you tried to encourage the boys to finish the exhibit, they unanimously agreed to cut the date short, and you were secretly relieved. You held Hyunjin’s hand tight as you walked past the security guards, knowing he would be tempted despite your agreement, and managed to make your way out into the warm afternoon sun without any issues.

You were relieved that the boys hadn’t been recognized yet.

“You want to go home?” Felix asked, and you thought about it for a second.

Now that you were out of the museum and breathing in fresh air, the idea of cutting the date short and ending it on such a bitter ending felt wrong. You shook your head.

“What do you want to do?” He asked.

You pursed your lips. “Are there any parks nearby?”

“Hmm, there’s one two blocks away,” Hyunjin said, already looking up the directions on his phone. Then he tilted his head. “If you’re willing to walk a little further, we’re not that far from the Han river.”

“Oh! I’ve always wanted to go to the Han river!”

“Then lets go,” Felix said, eyes crinkling.

You walked in between the two, holding hands with both of them and swinging them back and forth. You felt carefree, a nice change from the exhaustion you had felt earlier, and the wind blowing through your hair swept away all your worries. Even so, you could tell neither boy was completely over what had happened.

You pulled your hands together, forcing them to hold each other’s hands as you moved behind them, giving them a big smile. “You two look good together.”

Hyunjin snorted, wrapping his arm around Felix. “Maybe I’ll steal him all for myself.”

Not one to be outdone, Felix grabbed Hyunjin by the back of the neck. “Who says I won’t come willingly?”

Hyunjin jolted back at that, and the two of them started laughing. You raised an eyebrow, noticing the way their eyes darted to each other and then back to you. You patted Felix on the shoulder as you moved past them, skipping to the corner of the street.

“Come on lover boys. You two can flirt with each other later.”

The three of you continued your walk with less tension than before, the events of the museum only a blip of an otherwise nice day.

Well, relatively nice.

It was hot out, as summer was starting to get closer. The sun was shining bright, and by the time you guys found a nice spot near the river and under the shade, you were sweating. While it wasn’t unbearingly hot, Hyunjin’s offer to get ice cream was a blessing.

He told you he would back quickly, smooching your cheek messily as he left.

Felix decided to wait with you as the other dancer left, leaning back on his elbows and closing his eyes to enjoy the cool breeze. There were kids playing and laughing, couples walking at the riverside, and even dogs running in the grass. It was peaceful.

“I hate it, you know,” Felix said.

You tilted your head in confusion. “What?”

“Having to hide this.” He opened his eyes to look at you. “Not being able to be with you so publicly.”

You eyed his mask still on his face, pulled down only slightly below his nose. Any normal person would have taken it off by now, but even though Hyunjin had led you two towards a fairly secluded area, it was still too risky for his face to be seen in public.

Or rather, it was too risky for him to be seen in public with you.

You looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Felix was quick to reassure you. “It’s what I signed up for when I decided to become an Idol.”

“You still deserve your privacy,” You muttered.

“Would you have done something if we weren’t idols?”

You didn’t have to ask him what he was talking about.

It was silent for a second, wind blowing through the trees above you. Leaves and flowers began to fall around the two of you, littering the grass between you. You grabbed a flower, twirling it around your fingers as you contemplated Felix’s words.

“Maybe.” At the way his face fell, you shifted closer. “Hey, I’m not saying that your idol status was the only reason I didn’t want to get the authorities involved. Like I said before, I doubt they would have been able to do anything more than chastise the guy anyways.”

Felix sighed. “It still doesn’t seem right.”

“It isn’t. But I’m okay, really.”

You reached over to hold his hand, and he gave it a tight squeeze. When he turned his head to look at you, you were already looking at him, the wind blowing hair around and blocking your view for a second. Felix’s eyes shifted to the side, and you turned to see what he was looking at, but you didn’t see anything. You turned back in time to see him pulling his mask down.

His lips were on yours for only a split second, but it was enough to make your face heat up. Felix pressed his forehead to yours, whispering against your lips.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You smiled, letting your lips press together again. “With you? Always.”

He didn’t say anything else after that. Hyunjin didn’t mention your close proximity when he returned, simply handing over your ice cream with soft eyes.

“Careful, it’s starting to melt,” he warned you, but it was too late. A glob of ice cream had slid off the cone and hit your fingers.

He gratefully handed you a napkin afterwards, and you laughed when his own ice cream began to melt onto his hand as well. Felix accepted his own ice cream more carefully, managing to keep his hands clean.

Without thinking too much about it, you licked the ice cream that had fallen onto your fingers before wiping the area with the napkin. You then licked around the cone edge to catch the melting ice cream drops and avoid more of a mess, finishing off with a proper taste of your actual ice cream cone. You looked up to catch both boys watching you with familiar looks.

You snapped your fingers at them, instinctively speaking in english. “Hey, mind out of the gutter. I don’t put out on the first date.”

Felix laughed at your statement, replying in korean. “Damn, there go my plans for the night.”

“Wait, what did you she say?”

The two of you laughed at the confused look on Hyunjin’s face.

Yeah. You were okay.

-0-0-

“Walking me to my door, like proper gentleman,” You teased.

Hyunjin grinned, slipping the ball cap he had used out on the streets and running his hands through his hair. “Maybe we’re just hoping for the end of the date kiss.”

“So I’ve been told,” You said, giving Felix a side eye. “You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

You turned to open your door, planning on teasing them a little bit more, but Hyunjin pressed himself up against you, leaning on his arms resting above you. You turned back to face him properly, flicking his nose.

“Did you need something?”

He puckered his lips in response, and you laughed. You conceded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. His own hands dropped down to your waist, his touch warm and comforting as he kissed you softly and slowly. When he pulled away, you were surprised to see him looking almost sad, and you watched his eyes flicker down to your arm where the man had grabbed you.

While it wasn’t noticeable to anyone who didn’t know better, the skin was red and irritated. There was a chance it might bruise slightly.

You tucked your finger under Hyunjin’s chin and lifted his face so you could look into his eyes. “Hey, forget about it. Forget about him.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he said.

“It wasn’t your fault,” You assured him. “Don’t let the actions of one horrible man ruin our perfect date.”

“Perfect, huh?”

“Ahh, don’t let it go to your head,” You droned, pressing another kiss to his lips.

To both of your surprise, the moment Hyunjin pulled away Felix was there, pushing you back against the door and kissing you so hard it made you see stars. He practically devoured you, your breath stolen and lips tingling when he finally pulled away. His eyes were dilated, mouth red and slick with saliva that he licked away, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked you, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What happened to taking it slow?”

“Screw slow.”

Later that night, as you were getting ready for bed, Hyunjin sent a message to the group chat. It was a picture of you and Felix kissing at your front door, and he sent another message after.

‘Nothing in that museum compares to seeing these two together. This is real art.’

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VII: Choose Love or Sympathy

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: xo by fall out boy, lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, king for a day by pierce the veil

a/n: hear me when i say these two are absolutely in for it it. I'm also a huge fan of italics apparently

chapter tags: angst, hurt/comfort but then... hurt/no comfort (SORRY!), reader is a sensitive baby we love her, mean!Eddie, but also very sweet Eddie. swearing, smoking, drinking, reader struggles with self image / mental health (vague for now) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog/comment/like to support the author! Join the tag list!

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotine @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality |

--

The weekend comes barreling towards you sooner than you’d have liked. You wake up Friday morning with a sense of dread, Robin’s words on a broken loop in your head: what you ‘know’ isn’t the whole goddamn story. Everyone keeps fucking saying that, but no one has actually told you what you “don’t know.”. Chris hasn’t given you a goddamn leg to stand on, speaking in riddles and never once confirming or denying a thing. You’re an adult, and you wish these fuckers would start treating you like one.

On your nightstand, your phone buzzes repeatedly, a string of incoming text messages:

bobbins: so,, ive smoked some weed bobbins: im cool now  bobbins: i still think there’s a lot we don’t know,, bobbins: but I’m sorry for insinuating you should forgive him. bobbins: i cant imagine how you felt that day. bobbins: i love u bb

You scramble to respond before she can get another five messages in,

it’s ok bob, i love u 2

The subject changes swiftly as she tosses questions about tonight at you one after the other. You send her pictures of your outfit choices, hairstyle ideas, personal protection list before finally asking her the question gnawing on your brain. 

What if he doesn’t like me?

Robin responds by calling you.

“Hi?”

“Don’t be stupid.” She starts, not letting you explain. “He asked you out, why wouldn’t he like you?!”

“I dunno! Maybe he’s just looking for a hookup. Maybe he thought I’d be easy?” The suggestion sounds silly coming out of your mouth, and you hear Robin scoff at you. 

“Look, if things start to stink, call me. Steve’s closing tonight, so he’ll be right down the street.”

You sigh into the receiver. “Okay, okay. You’re right, I’m probably worried for nothing.”

“Atta girl! Now go on, go headbang or whatever it is you people do.”

You snort as you say your goodbyes, and hang up the phone. Without Robin to distract you, you turn to the outfits you’ve spread out on your bed. Emo Nite is casual, sure, but you still want to look good. You decide on a pair of Tripp pants, adorned with metal hooks and chains, pairing it with an old Paramore shirt you cropped with kitchen scissors in high school. With your outfit out of the way, you sit at your vanity to do your makeup, extending your winged eyeliner a little further than you would on a normal day. When you’re done, your alarm clock reads 8:30, and you make your way to your car. 

–

9:15.

The lights of the city seem to dance across the sky. Everything is louder here, bustling with nightlife you could only dream of seeing in Hawkins. You’re standing outside the club alone, nursing the end of your last cigarette. Maybe he’s running late? You don’t have a single unread text from Scotty. You type several different messages of your own, deleting each one before settling on “You on your way?” But its delivery is never confirmed. It’s grown cold outside, and you wrap your flannel tighter around you to keep the wind out. You should have brought a jacket, but you weren’t expecting to be outside for this long. You can hear the first notes of an old favorite song, followed by a bunch of 20 somethings cheering. Patrons are dressed in black, clad in leather and fishnets, their combat booted feet stomping into the venue. Emo Nite is a nostalgia cash grab, you know that, but you’re envious of everyone setting foot inside, surrounded by their friends and peers, leaving you abandoned at the door. 

–

9:30.

The time taunts you from your phone screen. You’re waiting outside the club, the air brisk on your face. Every so often, the door swings open as someone enters or exits, and you turn to see if it’s someone for you. So far, none of them have been, and you’re debating whether or not to walk to the record store and ask Steve to hitch a ride back to his place to mope. 

“Hey, Bee!” The voice calling you isn’t the one you’re hoping to hear, but it’s just as familiar. You find its source across the street, Macy waving at you eagerly as her bandmates and fucking Eddie follow behind. Oh, right. Like being stood up isn’t humiliating enough, now Eddie gets to tease you about it. 

“What’re you doing out here, girl? It’s freezing!” Macy is sweet, holding your icy cheeks between her warm hands. You can tell she’s already had a few drinks.

“I’m, hm,” You clear your throat, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“A date? Eek! Hear that, Eds? Our girl has a date!” Her words send static through your veins. Since when are you anyone’s girl, let alone Munson and Macy’s?

“Mhm, okay, honey. Let’s go get you situated, yeah?” Eddie ushers her inside, handing her off to Fiona before returning to where you’re standing. Without a word, he lights a cigarette and offers it to you, and you take it without acknowledgement while he lights his own. After what seems like hours, the two of you choose to speak at the same time,

“How late is–” “Why did you–” “What?” “What?”

“You first,” Eddie gestures to you before pulling from his cigarette.

“Why did you tell Scotty to ask me out?” 

“What in the world makes you think I told him to ask you out?”

“Look, she’s gonna kill me for telling you this, but Robin overheard you in the bathroom talking to Scotty at the bar. She walked in by accident, and you two had come in before she could leave. Anyway, you know she can’t keep secrets for shit, so she told me what you said to him. Why?” You cross your arms, attempting to hold in as much body heat as possible,but to no avail. Eddie notices, and immediately sheds his jacket, not giving you a chance to refuse it as he drapes the leather over your shoulders. 

“I thought he was a cool dude. Thought you guys would hit it off.” His answer does nothing to satiate the hunger for every detail of every single thought that went through his brain up until this very moment. He is driving you fucking insane. “Hey, I bet I could get Macy to put you on the guestlist, so at least tonight won’t be a total waste?” Yet another peace offering from Eddie Munson. Hell must have frozen over.

He doesn’t wait for your approval before reaching into his inner jacket pocket of the coat that you have since put fully on to shield yourself from the wind, to grab his phone. After eagerly punching a few buttons, he holds the device up to his ear, plugging the other with his finger. “Hey, babe. I’m outside with Bee, Scott stood her up.” You can’t hear what Macy’s response is, but Eddie replies with, “You read my mind, honey. We’ll be in in a sec.” He ends the call and turns his attention back to you, his big brown eyes attempting, it seems, to read your mind. “You pissed?”

You shake your head, inhaling another drag of your cigarette. “Not really. Disappointed, I guess.” You pick at your cuticles, refusing to hold eye contact with Eddie, but that doesn’t stop him from boring his own into the top of your head; you can feel them penetrating your skull. “Could’a used the distraction.”

“Fancy me a distractor? Macy’s gonna be busy, I’m practically all by myself tonight.” You look up, and Eddie’s jutting his bottom lip out to pout at you. 

“You don’t mind being seen with me?” You tease, flicking ash onto the concrete. You can’t imagine Eddie actually wants you to agree to this offer.

“Why would I? When have I ever cared what people think of me? Especially these posers.” He gestures to you, and you fake offense.

“Posers?! I’ll have you know I have met some of the most authentic punks at places like this, you dweeb!” You toss your cigarette butt on the ground, stomping out the embers with your boot. 

“Sorry, sorry! I’m used to going to shows where people leave bloody. Not used to this side of the alternative Venn Diagram, I guess.” He flicks his own cigarette, mirroring your movements. “Shall we go inside?” You nod begrudgingly, and he opens the door to the club for you, stopping to give the bouncer your names.

–

The club is dark, expectedly. The lights flash shades of pink, purple, and blue as people dance and attempt to chat over the noise; and the whole scene is set to the music of your childhood and teen years. As Eddie leads you across the floor, you can feel your chest tighten, watching couples surrounding you, dancing or sloppily making out against the back wall. You let it sink in that you've been stood up. The first time in three years you’d even attempted to go on a date, and the guy didn’t even show up. You hum along to the song playing, a desperate plea for distraction from the situation in front of you. Meanwhile, Eddie leads you to a table away from the speakers, and shouts that he’ll be right back. You can only guess he’s off to wish his girlfriend luck.

While you wait, you observe the crowd around you, and it’s full of kids you knew in high school that used to bully you for liking this kind of music, dressed as caricatures with arm warmers and cheap chains dangling off their black skinny jeans. Conventionally attractive girls wear their eyeliner in heavy wings, their lips painted shades of dark red, dancing with boys in all black with long hair. You try not to think about what Scotty would have worn. You wonder if he even likes this kind of thing. Maybe it was a test, and you'd failed.

Just as you’re about to spiral into misery again, Eddie returns with two drinks in his hands. “You like shirleys, right? I wasn’t totally sure. I can go grab you something else if you want?” If you didn’t know any better, you would think Eddie was nervous.

“No, this is good. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem!” He has to yell over the music.

“And, uh, thanks for hanging out with me. I know it’s like, the last thing you wanna be doing right now.”

Eddie takes a swig of his beer before responding, “Nah, definitely not the last thing. This is way better than listening to Steve talk about his latest conquest.” You picture the scenario, Eddie slamming his head against a wall while Steve goes on and on about Tracy, or Nicole, or whoever it is this week. The mental image makes you giggle, and Eddie’s smile seems to widen. It makes you uncomfortable, being so close to him. Luckily, though, you don’t get to think about it too long.

“Alright, alright! Thank you guys for comin’ out to hang with us! We have a guest for you tonight, please welcome Macy Miller, frontwoman of Statuesque Dolls!” The crowd cheers politely, these things never have people worth freaking out over. Macy takes the stage, clad in a silky black dress that hugs her form perfectly. Next to you, Eddie is whooping and hollering, “That’s my girl!” It makes your stomach churn. You’re reminded again that you’re supposed to be here on a date. You’re supposed to be someone’s girl. 

“Alright, I got a couple of songs for you guys, but I need all of you up and shaking some emo ass with me, got it?!” You can’t deny Macy knows how to work a crowd. She gets people to migrate to the dance floor, and Eddie offers his hand out. “Can I have this dance?”

“Um,” You hesitate to take his outstretched palm. “What about Macy?” You point lamely to where Macy is killing her cover of Fall Out Boy’s XO.

“What about her? It’s a dance, Bee. I’m not, like, asking you to sleep with me or some shit.” Eddie frowns at you, like you’ve offended him.

He does have a point, though. One dance won’t kill you. You accept his gesture, taking his own massive hand in yours, and hope to god he can’t tell that yours is sweating. He leads you to the dance floor, waving to Macy from the crowd as he does. There’s a burn in your stomach when she blows him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it in his mouth. You’re close to bailing when Eddie turns his attention back to you, clearing his throat.

You stare back at him, eyes wide with fear that he’s going to bail, and you prepare to tuck your tail between your legs and call Robin. Instead, Eddie takes your hand again, and yanks you into his embrace. You bump into his chest, but he recovers the fumble by holding you there, free arm resting hesitantly on your waist. You’re frozen, having no clue where to put your hands, so Eddie takes the lead. He drops the hand he’s holding on his shoulder, and moves your other to meet it on the other side. He then rests both his hands on your hips, giving you enough space between his body and yours to breathe, but barely.

The song continues, melodramatic and overtly horny. That, combined with the warmth of the drink in your veins, plus the closeness of Eddie, makes you feel almost good. It’s difficult not to overthink, though, having him in your personal space, your bodies pressed together on a very hot, crowded dance floor, moving in ways you definitely wouldn't have done three hours ago.

“So,” Eddie muses, looking anywhere but at you as he speaks, but still able to move in sync with you. “How’s your day goin’?”

You snicker at his poor attempt at conversation. “Well, I got stood up, and now I’m dancing with who I would have bet this morning wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. All things considered, I think it’s going pretty horribly!” 

The ice seems to crack as you speak, Eddie visibly relaxing as you sway to the music. “Okay, that’s fair. Are you pleasantly surprised?”

You look up at him, but his eyes are locked over your head, staring where Macy stands onstage, swaying with a few friends in front of the DJ booth. You shrug. “Jury’s still out.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes at you. After what feels like an eternity, the song ends and Macy queues another rock anthem to get the crowd moving again. You’re unmoving as Eddie unwraps himself from you. “We should do this again sometime.” He states, unreadable.

“What, dance?”

“Sure, or just, y'know, hang out. Be civil for once. It’s been awhile.”

You roll your eyes. “You know this can’t be, like, a normal thing. It bruises our reputation as sworn enemies.” A feeble attempt to make it a joke, though you know in your heart you can’t be friends with Eddie. The earth would cave in on itself. 

Eddie chuckles. “Whatever you say, Bee. See ya ‘round.” And he leaves you alone, disappearing into the crowd.

–

It’s 11:30 when your phone buzzes. You’re four drinks deep, stirring another dirty shirley at the bar, observing the people around you having fun.

Scotty A: Hey! Totally meant to text you. Got stuck at work.

An avalanche of thoughts rumbles through you, most of them not safe for work. You don’t even know how to respond. There’s no apology, no groveling for your forgiveness, not a hint of actual, real regret. Like you don’t matter. It exhausts you to even think of what that date would’ve been like had he shown up. You type your response between gulps of liquid courage.

“Are you fucking serious?”

The "..." bubble appears, but quickly vanishes. You gape at your phone, wishing you were home so you could let out the blood curdling scream building in your chest. The anger vibrating through you needs an escape, so you lurch from your seat at the bar, rushing quickly out of the club. Eddie whips his head around as you pass him. You think you hear him call your name, but your eyes have started stinging and he’s the last person you want to see you cry.

The night air hits you hard, bringing separate tears to your eyes. Following your therapist’s advice, you start a box breathing exercise. Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. 

“Hey,” The voice startles you into a hiccup. “You okay?” Eddie has made his way outside after you, leaning against the wall. “Saw you dash outta there like something caught fire. Got worried.” He says it nonchalantly, and it takes you aback. Instead of responding, you flip your phone screen towards him. His eyes scan the page before they focus back on you, shaking his head. “That is so fucked up.”

Your voice breaks with your next question. “Did you know this was gonna happen? Scotty’s your friend.”

Eddie’s face drops into a grimace. “How would I have known? Why would I have told him to hit you up if I knew this was gonna happen?” 

It frustrates you how reasonable he’s being. You want someone to yell at, someone to blame, and Eddie just so happens to be the closest target. “I don’t know! Maybe you did it as revenge, or something equally as immature. Maybe you wanted me to feel the same way you did when–”

He interrupts, shaking his head feverishly. “I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone. Even you.” The words are a knife to your chest. You don’t like remembering what you did to Eddie that night, but it’s your fault for bringing it up. “I told Scotty to ask you out because he said he liked you. Crazy concept, I know, but i suggest you stop thinking everyone’s out to get you. I thought it would be fun, hanging out with you and him. I’m sorry it didn’t go how you planned, but blaming me isn’t fucking fair, Bee.”

He’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to back down. “It’s not fair to take someone’s brother away for six years, but you had no problem doing that.”

“Fuck you, Bee. Seriously.” He spits the words before turning on his heel, and heading inside. You are once again left alone, outside, in the cold.

–

[waitineedaname]

shoes in FMA rated on how comfortable they'd be to fight in

Edward Elric

considering Ed's uhhh very distinct taste in aesthetics, these could be a lot worse. they look relatively comfortable and don't seem like they'd be difficult to move around in. they are platforms though, which I imagine makes things more difficult. I'll be generous and give these a 7/10

Most of the Amestrian military

pretty much everyone in uniform wears the same shoes, so I'm lumping them all together. these are Roy's, if that matters. they look fine. I imagine that because it is part of a military uniform, it's designed to be moved around in and worn for hours on end, so ideally they're relatively comfortable. it doesn't look like there's much traction, but they're usually fighting on flat surfaces so whatever. 8/10

Fu and Lan Fan

these shoes fucking rule. the picture I've included is Lan Fan's, but they wear p much the same shoes. I fucking love these things. they have spikes. Edward Elric fucking wishes. considering this seems to be part of the bodyguard uniform, I'd imagine they're as easy to run around in as the military shoes, if not better since they're expected to be doing martial arts in them. but most importantly, they have spikes. 10/10, no notes.

Ling and Mei

on the topic of doing martial arts, both Ling and Mei wear these.... I'm not sure what they are. flats? slippers? it's unclear. (EDIT: they are apparently Kung Fu shoes!) they seem relatively easy to move around in I guess since they're not very cumbersome and both Ling and Mei rely on being very nimble. they look like they have absolutely no support in the soles though, which is gonna get painful after a certain point. also depending on what fabric they're made of, they could definitely start chafing. I've worn flats. I know that hell. 7/10 for the potential blisters, but at least they're designed specifically for martial arts

Greedling and Bradley

it's hard to get a good shot in this scene because neither of them stop moving, but I swear to god, they're fighting in dress shoes. I cannot stand them. this CANNOT be comfortable. I know Greed prioritizes aesthetics over function so this was probably a compromise between his and Ling's tastes but ohhh my god. he was probably wasting so much of the philosopher's stone just passively healing the million blisters on his feet from running around in these things. there's a chance Bradley is wearing the military uniform shoes but I think he was in more formal dress when he got blown the fuck up, so I don't think so. no wonder he complains about being sore, quit running around in dress shoes you fucking moron. 4/10.

Greed

THESE FUCKING THIIIIIIIINGS. WHY ARE THEY POINTY AT THE END. WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE SOMEONE HIT HIS FOOT WITH A MALLET AND FLATTENED THEM. he's so dumb. I love him. looking at these things tells me he would probably wear goth cowboy boots if he could, and tbh that would probably look better. 3/10 for Greed's overall silly as hell fashion sense

Lust

okay. the heels make sense considering her whole vibe. however. these are part of her fucking BODY. when she gets incinerated, they grow back. can she even take them off???? I'm scared to ask. I guess if theyre part of her body, she doesn't have to worry about adjusting to balancing in them like you would normally with heels, but oh my god. she can never wear normal shoes. I would also be murderous if I had to wear heels all the time. 4/10.

Father and Izumi

guys. these are sandals. it has been four hundred years and Father is still wearing the same outfit he was wearing in the damn desert. find a new outfit man. Izumi is apparently wearing bathroom slippers (hence the WC) so idk why she's even wearing those out of the house. Father gets 0/10 and Izumi gets 1/10 because she still manages to kick everyone's asses while wearing these, so respect

Envy

PUT YOUR FUCKING TOES AWAY. -10000000/10

[cryptidcr3ature]

Rating Charles’s outfits because I’m an opinionated person. (None of these pics are mine)

Colter Charles: 8/10. There’s something so special about this outfit good patterns, the hand ™, and general snugness. -2 points for the hood. Is it practical? Yes. Does it cover his hair and thus burying the lead that this man has the best hair in the game? Also yes.

Classic blue shirt Charles: 9/10. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this outfit. Everything matches, it’s practical for changing temperatures, it works well with his little necklace. Overall a very good outfit. -1 point for the neck line just being a little awkward.

Poacher killing outfit: -10/10. Charlie boy what the hell? You have a monochromatic color palette and nothing matches. Why do we have so many layers? Why is the belt so high if you’re going to put a jacket over it. I hate this outfit

Sean rescue fit: (sorry for the bad quality but this one has little no pictures) 10/10 YES YES YES. Big coat, matching pants and boots and his hair is on display. Practical and good looking.

The hoodie ™: 6/10. This is a controversial take I know, but the hoodie has its problems. It looks comfortable and I’m an avid hoodie wearer, but I’m not a fan of the rough edges and the one brown patch. I do like the thick sewing lines, but I know this fit could be better. Of course I still love the hoodie and he can make it work but I have to be critical.

Lemoyne fit 1: 10000/10! YES I LOVE THIS FIT SO MUCH YOU GUYS DONT UNDERSTAND! THE PURPLE SHIRT WITH THE TURQUOISE DETAILS ON THE VEST!!!! The way it’s not too baggy but not over constricting. It’s practical but it looks good, not even mentioned how good the tomahawk holster looks with the outfit. I’d wear this outfit level good.

Lemoyne fit 2: 8/10. I adore the idea of this outfit. The greens and the short sleeves are immaculate. The -2 points are for the dingy white shirt. Lemoyne is a dirty place, with all the swamps and dust and stuff, and the whites aren’t going to stay white respectfully. No blame to Charles whatsoever, it’s just not my favorite shirt.

Bank heist fit: 10/10 looks, 5/10 practicality. I love this fit, he looks so good, why so many layers? Why not lose the thick wool coat? If it was a normal day, maybe it would be fine, but you gotta move and I know he’s sweating. I know that wool doesn’t breathe well. Still slays though. A gentleman never gets hot.

Farm boy Charles: 10/10! The fit is RIGHT. Subtle patterns, cute little feather, AND no weird neck line. ICONIC! AND HE KEEPS THE LEG HOLSTER! SLAY KING, SLAY!

American venom: 3/10. I like the coat and his hair looks really good. I also like the pants. I hate this disgusting green vest and off white shirt combo, paired with the floppy hat. I know it’s the same hat as colter, but it doesn’t match the vibe.