#I’m kinda weird so I wouldn’t blame them if they just thought I was strange

[frickityfrackityfuckingshit]

Me: *scribbles on friend’s page*

Me: the demon wanted to tell you something

Friend: *hesitantly* what does it say

Me: I don’t fucking know I’m not the demon

[phyrestartr]

Vampire | Miguel x M!Reader

Vampire!Miguel x Reader W/C: 5.9k

#NSFW, vampires, blood, gore, violence, bottom!reader, top!Miguel, mentions of sex work, mentions of assault, it's kinda cute idk, posessive behaviour, questionable relationship, reader is morally grey, reader is lowkey a criminal though lol, Johnny Blaze = Nic Cage 5ever sorry not sorry

Note: I FINISHED IT! Lost steam with editing so some bits may be kinda weird and word-y, but I really enjoyed writing this honestly :clap: ty guys for voting for me to finish this o(--( I actually finished it so quickly wtf--

--

Vampires. Blood-sucking, man-killing, devil-calling creatures. Many feared them, even now, even after the legends of Dracula faded into obscurity and out of the minds of mortal men. But there were some who kept weary watch on the old castle looming before your meager town: older folks, the ones with bleached scars and haunted voices, with quivering hands and a phobia of the dark. 

You thought they all spun tales, convinced themselves of a time that never happened thanks to whatever their parents hushedly told them come the waning of the sun. “Don't leave the house after dark,” “be wary of the man you know not,” “pray to God for his protection,” is what you figured they'd been told. You couldn't blame them. Not really. Mass hysteria, mass lies told to the young had a penchant for warping their minds, destroying their futures. 

But still, you'd listen. Face alight with a smile, one ear turned their way as you poured drinks for whatever patron came bumbling your way that night. There was one man, one who claimed to have been touched by the devil himself, momentarily transformed into something wicked and unholy, who frequented the establishment. 

“Come on now, Johnny,” you chided with a laugh, “you don't really believe all that rubbish. Touched by the devil? You Americans really are the dramatic sort, aren't you?” 

“You don't need to believe all of it,” Johnny said mildly. “You just need to believe a sliver of it. It'll do you some good. Keep you safe.” 

You smiled to yourself as you busily made a drink for a new customer. “Yeah? Keep me safe from what, exactly?” Your eyes met his, then, and you found your blood stood in place for a moment. 

“You know what.” The devil. He'd said it too many times to count without uttering his name. “Just be smart.”

“I'm always smart,” you said with a phony laugh, the sort you used to lull women and men into some cheap sense of comfort. 

“Smart people do dumb things, too.” He took a swig of his drink before peering down at the amber pooling against crystal. “Like sneaking around old, unhallowed castles.” 

You pursed your lips. “I'm just curious, old man, you don't need to worry. I've not been inside, yeah? Just looked ‘round the outside of the old place.” That's probably filled with loads of goods. 

But Johnny only stared at you, calculating, thinking. It almost unnerved you. 

“Just be careful.” 

And in that moment, a man whose name you didn’t know, but whose body you knew too well, walked into the bar. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his frame unnaturally tall, and from the glimpses you were allowed of his face hidden away under the brim of that hat, you remembered strong lines and proud cheekbones. His eyes, a bizarre colour, always glimmered ruby in the firelight thanks to some strange disease you never quite remembered the name of, and his hair, a dark oaken hue, wisped like tendrils of shadow rolling off his strong neck. 

He didn’t look at you, but you couldn’t look away. Your gaze followed him to where he found a quiet seat off to the side by a small table. He wouldn’t order anything. He never did. He only ever waited for your shift to end. 

“Kid?” Johnny prodded, freeing you from your momentary curse.

You blinked and sputtered, nodding in earnest to whatever Johnny had said. “I–right. Careful. I’m always careful.” 

–

Just be careful.

But that was impossible with this otherworldly spirit around you, waiting for you every other night just for the sake of bedding you, and leaving before morning with nothing but a stack of bills (or sometimes some jewelry, if you were lucky) to remember him by. Your favourite client by far. Your only client, per his request.

Your fists twisted into the bedsheets as you gasped with every brutal crashing of the man’s hips against yours as he took you from behind. He was in a bad mood tonight, it seemed. Normally, he liked to take it slow, he liked to savour his meal, but for some reason–

His hand clasped over your mouth when his teeth tore into your neck again. The cry that left you was hoarse and tired, but not so surprised, no; the man had his kinks, and one just so happened to be biting. He did quite the number on you, too, always breaking skin and leaving scars and scabs in his wake. But it felt good. It felt right to be claimed. The greedy, ugly little part of your heart wanted people to know you were taken and owned by this strange, captivating man.

“Fuck, I–” You buried your face into the mattress as another orgasm hit, striking your dull nerves like hammer on hot iron thrust after thrust. Soon enough, you felt his body stutter against yours just before an uncanny, liquid gold filled your guts and seeped into your core–he was finally done. Finally. Though part of you wished it didn’t have to end. 

His teeth, the pointed, feral things, dislodged from your neck before he ran the flat of his tongue against the weeping wound. Somehow, that always staunched the bleeding. You didn’t quite understand it, but you weren’t exactly well-versed in medicine.

“Tired already?” He mocked in that smokey, American accent. “Thought the young had more than that to offer.” The purr of his voice soothed the pulsing start of a headache as you came down from your high. Yet another strange effect he had on you. 

You took a good handful of moments to catch your breath before you tried to hazard an answer. “I’m–you’re in some kind of mood, darling; can’t blame me for your brutality.” You turned your head to rest your cheek against the scratchy sheets, and the beast took the opportunity to leave nips and kisses along your jaw. 

“Tch. I’m just reminding you who you belong to. Where you belong.” Sharp teeth grazed your skin again, and you shuddered. “No one likes to see theirs fawning over another man.” 

You strained to look back at him. “You–you mean Johnny? He’s not–I wouldn’t let him bed me, are you mad?” A rough push of his hips against yours reprimanded you. “H-He’s a mate, love, that’s all.”

The man twitched. “A mate?” 

“A friend, you bloody idiot.”

He relaxed, but still sought confirmation. “A friend.”

“A friend, indeed. Father-figure, maybe.” With a bit of effort, you managed to wriggle free from the strength of the man pinning you in place, and laid on your back to gaze up at him. “I’m not interested in him, he’s not interested in men, so you needn’t worry a thing.” One of your worn hands reached up and smoothed over the curve of his sharp cheekbone, drawing a pleased hum from the chamber of the beast’s chest. 

“Fine.” He rested his weight on you, and you sighed, content and warmed. But that bony chin digging into your chest was a tad bit fucking irritating. “Then if he’s not trying to fuck you, what makes you listen to him for hours on end, hm?” Hah. Annoyed. Jealous. Quite endearing. 

“He has stories to tell,” you offered. “Words about the devil and the curse of the undead. About Dracula and that old castle.” 

The man’s brows raised in interest. “Oh? And you like ghost stories, is that it? Here I figured I'd be enough to keep your mind entertained,” he said with a taunting smirk, like he thought your suggested belief in those spooky tales was laughable. 

Heat washed over your face. “I–you���shut up, I just like me a good story, is that so wrong? Tch, stupid American.”

He laughed, a sound you adored to hell and back. “I’ll keep it in mind. Might have a few good stories up my sleeve, too.” His head tilted the slightest bit. “Maybe then your eyes won’t wander.”

“Terribly jealous one, aren’t you? I never would’ve guessed it.” You raked your hands through his hair and he sighed, deep and ancient. But your words were true–this man, your mysterious client-turned-lover, he captivated all wherever he traveled. With so many eyes on him, why did he want you to look nowhere else but to him? 

Greedy man. That’s what you decided. He wanted everything and more. 

“Other men don't get to look at what's mine,” he mumbled after a time of you pampering him with pets and scritches. “And you're mine, for the record.” 

“Hm. I quite like the sound of that.” 

“Then marry me.” 

“I'm not sure I can,” you lamented. “I find myself in trouble too often. It puts me on the run, jumping from town to city and back again.” 

“You'd never have to run again if you let me have you.” He picked himself up and loomed over you, brushing his nose against yours as he spoke against your lips. “You'd be safe, cared for, never want for anything. None of those sacks of shit would would lay a finger on you again.” His lips trailed down, brushing against the thick vein in your neck. “I think it's for the best if you agree.” 

You almost argued back, but the large hand engulfing your throat gave you pause. He didn't hurt you, no, but gave you a silent warning. The power that man held over you contradicted his weakness to your wants and desires, and twisted your thoughts into unorganized knots. 

“I'll think on it,” you breathed, not wanting to say yes but unwilling to say no. You didn't want marriage, but commitment was a tantalizing idea. You'd just never thought it'd happen to you. 

His eyes came back to yours again. Your heart fluttered at the glints of carmine shimmering in candle-lit eyes. God, he was beautiful. 

“I better like your answer.” 

–

You left. You hated doing it, you hated running from your problems and whatever seemed to haunt you day to day, but too much happened in too short a time. 

For one, the landlord demanded more and more rent money from you when he noticed your gifted jewelry and newly tailored coat, and then, when you didn't give it to him, he took to trying to get payment another way. You shot him, obviously. 

Which led to your second reason for leaving–you'd shot a man and fled the scene, unknowing if he was alive or not, and uncaring of the outcome, quite frankly. You figured the lowlife would be more pressed about the money than dying, anyway. 

And third, the bar you worked at found out you'd been swindling and stealing on the job, pocketing tips and taking home near-empty bottles to refill with something of your own design to sell on the streets. Admittedly, it was fine work, but you'd long abandoned that method of money-making once that stranger wandered into your life and offered you more cash than you could imagine.

But you liked that bar. You liked those patrons. No strings attached.

And that's why you were back. Not with the intention to stay, no; you were back to scout out the castle after getting confirmation from some university lads about how valuable the old place was. You figured you could find enough in there with the scoundrels you'd come with, and maybe you could pay the old owner back before leaving for good. 

You'd never have to run again if you'd let me have you. 

Maybe you should've just said yes.

– 

The castle stood beautifully, even with the screams of the slaughtered ringing through the halls. It was big, too, eagerly letting you get lost in its enchanting halls and inviting rooms as you tried in vain to remember the way out. 

That's when you crashed into one of the uni snobs you'd come with, Harry. He was a mess, clothes and hair out of place for once, with a spray of sticky blood coating his face and white shirt. Osborn must've seen their tormentor. 

He grabbed your shoulders as you grabbed his arms. “We have to go, we have to go–” he chanted, pulling and pushing you in undecided directions. 

“Osborn, where did you see it? Where–” Another scream gave you a hint. Your eyes snapped down the hallway, staring deep into the torchlit halls and finding nothing but the unknown staring back. 

Then, there were footsteps. Slow, methodical things that rung to a tune hidden in your memories.

“We have to go,” you whispered, like that'd help. “Osborn, we have to–” a splitting pain electrocuted your senses and sent you stumbling backwards. The world spun. Your head ached. Funeral bells shrieked. Worst of all, that dress shirt and that fancy jacket you loved so much were stained suddenly, a foul colour of darkness that reeked of pennies and iron. It took you too long to look back to the student, and to see the smoking pistol held out in his shaky hand. 

“I had to,” Osborn whispered, so, so haunted. “I had to. You understand.” And quite frankly, you did understand; wounding a lamb to leave behind for a wolf to indulge in was a sure way to let a farmer escape. 

Harry took off. You grasped your stomach and leaned hard against the wall, trying to pull yourself together to make some kind of run for it before those languid steps found you and cut your story short. But you felt so tired, so dizzy. The red weeping under your hand and the bewildered pants leaving you left you colder and colder. You wondered if Osborn had shot himself in the foot with this one (hah), killing the sacrificial lamb, rendering it useless to what was believed to be a vampire of all things. They devoured the living, not the dead. 

Clack, clack, clack. The haunting echo of fine shoes on wooden slats passed you by, then vanished all together. You collapsed to your knees and heaved in the burning air just as a deafening screech ricocheted through the halls with the echo of frantic gunfire, and the slosh of viscera. You fought back the burn of bile in your throat when you braved a look; there laid a body on the floor, and a corpse standing above it, illuminated just barely by torchlight. 

His shoulders were impossibly broad, his frame unnaturally tall–

“We could have avoided all of this,” the creature growled. 

–from the glimpses you were allowed of his face hidden in the swath of darkness around him, you remembered strong lines and proud cheekbones–

“But you didn’t listen.”

–his eyes, a bizarre colour, glimmered ruby in the firelight thanks to some strange disease you never quite remembered the name of– 

“Why couldn’t you just listen?”

–and his hair, a dark oaken hue, wisped like tendrils of shadows rolling off his strong neck.

He appeared beside you so suddenly, so soundlessly, you wouldn’t have known he approached if it weren’t for the strength of your fluttering eyelids seeking the truth. You stared hard at the tips of his leather shoes. Perhaps you should’ve known it was him all along. Perhaps you had known. 

He knelt before you and forced your chin up, making your eyes meet his as he stared down through you. Blood marred his face, matching the wine-red hue of his furious, gem-cut eyes; even like this, teeth bared, about to kill you, he was beautiful. 

“Look what you’ve done. This is your fault–”

But that beauty was wasted on such a foul-mouthed monster. 

“My fault?” You spat. “Fuck you.” You tore your chin from his grip, but his hand sought out your throat instead. “Don’t fucking touch me–”

He smiled, bitter but so wholly and infuriatingly amused before he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll do whatever I want with you.” And before you could lash out, before you could throw a fist at his stupid face, he yanked you in and bit.

A winter breeze rippled through you. Cold. Piercing. And you gradually froze like water dripping from the gutters, no longer able to fight back, too sluggishly slow to do anything about your fate. You breathed hard, feeling the hole in your stomach and ache of your heart weep and worsen with every shattering breath you took. Your hands, gentle in their weakness, pawed at his chest and sought a spot to dig in and hold on to for dear life as the waking world turned its back to you.

But despite the bitterness, and despite words exchanged, he held the side of your face as you faded in and out of consciousness. He called something, and a flurry of orange wisps appeared above you. 

–

You awoke to the echoes of a dream, one you hadn’t had for a while. A cloudless night where you’d been caught in bed by a taken woman’s man and beaten half to death; in return, you shredded through the man's chest with a knife from the kitchen while the wife watched on in silence. You'd been ready to kill her, too, slit her throat in one easy motion, but she never screamed, never looked at the wild animal with fear. 

Tell the police he attacked you, miss. 

Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

You fumbled through the alleys after leaving the scene, but others, foul things that roamed the streets where not even rats lingered, found you, threatened to use up the last of what you had to offer this pitiful world. It seemed as though they disappeared in the time it took you to blink, though, and a man was left, standing in their wake. He looked somewhat disheveled, like he’d just finished some grand task, but he was just so put together, too. You struggled to make sense of it, but you didn’t really care to. 

“Well, isn't that impressive,” you said with a breathless laugh. “Not a shred of blood on you. Are you the ripper the paper’s gone on and on about?”

The being glanced over his shoulder, eyes alight in curious mirth. He turned your way and stepped closer. You saw it then, the slightest bit of dark smears on his face.

“Is that what they're calling me?” He adjusted his cuffs, and rolled his shoulders. “Huh.” 

Adrenaline poured into your heart. “You're quite the dangerous man, aren't you, sir?” you swallowed thickly as you looked him over: fine shoes, expensive coat, luxurious rings. “And, ah, well-off. You wouldn't happen to be interested in spreading the wealth, hm?” 

His hand cupped your jaw, sticky with freezing blood, and he leaned in. The pungent scent of iron curled your gut as he breathed you in, making up his mind with what to do with you. Then, with the dry, warm back of his gloved hand, he caressed the side of your face and watched your eyelids flutter, devouring the simple gesture. 

“Let's see if you can convince me to.”

-

“I know you’re awake,” he mumbled.

Curiosity willed your eyes open, and you gazed down at the hollow tube connecting you to the walking corpse. You fought to ease the jump of your heart, but it became impossible when a dark red raced from the vampire's arm down into yours. 

“Is that going to make me like you?” You whispered, nerves twitching and burning with the bite of restless fire ants. 

Crimson eyes found yours and looked deep. “It won't. You can relax.” But you weren't convinced, and your lover could tell. “You'd have to drink my blood.” 

“Why're you giving me your blood, then?” 

“You'll die without it.” He pumped something, you now noticed, and realized it was what drew the blood from his veins and drained it into yours. 

Curious. “Were you a man of medicine?” 

He scoffed. “Still am.” He threw you a wary look, one brow raised. “How many more questions are you–” 

“Your name?” That was something you'd requested before, but always through a veil of uncertainty. You didn't like to ask much of him. He didn't ask much of you. But you didn't know him, yet he knew you. 

Your vampire frowned, unapproving. “What difference will it make?” 

“You asked me to fucking marry you,” you bit out. “And yet you keep so many secrets from me, still. I've given you more than I have, and you can't even–” 

“Miguel.” You both paused–him to gauge your reaction, and you out of shock. “Miguel O'hara.” 

The cracks in your chest mended, just slightly. Miguel O'hara. What a name that was. Formidable and wholly suiting the beast of a man you'd known and craved for far too many years. 

“Miguel O'hara,” you whispered, staring tiredly at the red thread connecting the two of you. The name felt good on your tongue. 

Nothing more was said, then. He must've still felt the tension in the air, or maybe the coil of apprehension in your body, for he worked on in silence, quietly saving your life for no reason. 

It was when he pulled free the needle that you found the will to break the silence on your own. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” It came out a pathetic whisper, sounding as broken as your mind felt. 

He paused before pulling the needle from his own arm. “Tell you what?” 

It was a good question. You didn't know what to ask him to elaborate on. You didn't know if you wanted him to elaborate on anything, actually, because it'd make it too real, too tangible. 

“Everything.” And when he stayed silent, you narrowed it down to just, “all of…you.” 

Miguel licked his thumb and stroked it soothingly against the pinprick of a wound while his brows furrowed and his lips twisted into something of a frown. “How could I?” You both watched the tiny dot of red cease weeping. “If you'd moved on and you knew, it could put everything at risk.” 

If I'd moved on. It felt wrong. It felt uncomfortable to know he felt that somewhere between his ribs and his heart. And for how long? How long had he not trusted you? Did he even trust you in that moment, knowing what and who he truly was? Or were you now doomed to this castle just as he was? 

“I'll let you rest,” Miguel said as he clasped his medical case shut and stood. “Lyla'll bring you food.” 

Thump, thump, thump, echoed his footsteps, those fine shoes muffled by old carpet; but the sharp clack, clack, clack in the hollow echoes of your memories, just before the truth revealed itself to you, swallowed up your thoughts.

“(Name),” Miguel said, and your eyes opened to find the tall, proud back of his silhouette stood at the door, one hand clutching the knob. “Don’t leave this room.” 

And he left you there, heart aching, mind melting, soul shattering. 

–

Solitude reminded you of what else happened. The lads you'd come here with, nothing more than acquaintances, were missing, or perhaps dead. It ate at your mind. Could you have done something different? Could you have convinced him to let them go?

More importantly, would Miguel let you leave? He claimed he wanted to marry you, but words were just words if not put to use with actions. Staying by his side would mean stomaching the fact he'd consume countless other people, wouldn't it? How were you expected to watch your partner(?), your groom-to-be(?), hold and pierce others the way he promised to you and only you?

But could you let him stay here alone, hunted and hated by believers, laughed at by the average skeptic? If you were not here, how many more would walk in on a dare, and meet a terrible end? They didn’t matter, no, but the legend of a vampire would turn more and more true, summoning devil-hunters to his doorstep, stake and flames in-hand.

The thoughts plagued you, filling your head with the terrible buzzing of bees. You couldn't fathom why you cared so much; most of your life you'd lived for your own sake, doing what needed to be done to get by, to have a better tomorrow. You hated other people. A few of them you'd personally buried six feet under, whether they were dead or lived still, and you never batted an eye. You had no patience for those who'd oppose you. 

You would have killed Osborn yourself if O’hara hadn't. And that was the truth. That'd been the truth the whole time, ever since you saw just how expensively he and the others lived; gold dripped from their tongues, silver ran through their veins, diamonds fell from their eyes. You wanted to claim a bit of that for yourself. 

And Miguel had shared his wealth with you, just in exchange for a bit of blood and your body for the night. Surely you could look past what he did to survive, even if it put your heart into a spiral. 

Lost in thought, you found your way to his chambers, freely disobeying his orders

He lounged in a clawfoot bath. Stuffy heat lulled you into a daze, something like a carefree summer evening wherein the sun took too long to vanish. Though when he noticed you approach, shedding clothes the entire way, the heat grew near unbearable.

Miguel's claws creaked against the enamel in anticipation when you stepped into the water. You watched him with the same delicate intrigue as prey investigating something that could be a threat as you found your place between his spread legs, getting close enough to feel the pounding of his undead heart. You'd only seen his body in dim candlelight or withering rays of the moon, never truly illuminated by the glow of floating chandeliers nor the collection of sconces arching from the wall.

Slowly, your fingertips dragged along muscle, warm and firm under your calloused touch. The scars littering your hands and knuckles shone so stark against his perfect complexion. He really did seem too perfect. It would have sparked jealousy in your gut if he didn't apparently belong to you, and you to him. No one else got to touch. No one else got to see. 

Now, you were built finely yourself, but the man before you was something entirely different. You didn't know if it was thanks to his supernatural existence, but his body was built in a near-animalistic way that screamed power and speed, not similar enough to a human. Though, looking back, you did always think his manners in bed were more beast than man. The growling, the clawing, the marks of claim on the nape of your neck, it all clicked and made sense in the whirlwind of your mind. 

“I think a werewolf would suit you better,” you admitted. “What with the claws and biting and general uncouth behaviour.” 

Miguel huffed. “You must be talking about yourself.” His voice rang low and quiet, too aware he might scare off his prized hare if he put too much into his words. “You're the one acting like a rabid animal.” 

“No, you.” 

“Don't think so.” 

“You're difficult.” 

“You're one to talk.” 

“How long have you been like this?” Your fingers combed through his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut. “A vampire. Or whatever you are.” 

“Lost track,” he said, sounding too honest. “I have records. Notes. From experiments. The dates on those are close to when it happened.” Experiments? Colour you intrigued.

“So you weren't exactly practicing white medicine?” You tilted your head in thought. “You were doing something more–” 

“It wasn't black magic,” Miguel scoffed. “It was science. Genetics. Studying how other organisms function, learning about them.” His expression darkened just the slightest bit. “Trying to…recreate them.” 

Your head spun a little trying to fill in the blanks. It wasn’t too hard, but it was hard to accept as reality. But if anyone were to unlock the damned secrets of immortality, of course it'd be this man. This cocky, genius, charming man. God really did have favourites, though they always did seem to disappoint him.

“I see. So you're telling me you're a genius who rebirthed vampires,” you summed up, letting your hands melt down his body, below the water's surface. “How is it you only get more and more impressive, Mr.O'hara?” 

A smug smirk bloomed across his lips. “It's just in my nature.” His head tilted back with a pleased sigh when your touch finally landed on that annoying thing prodding your thigh. “I have no choice but to succeed.” 

“Tch. Americans are so arrogant.” You hummed and leaned in, ghosting kisses along his vulnerable neck while your hand pleased him slowly, teasingly. His talons screeched against the tub again. “But maybe you have reason to be, hm? Given how accomplished you are.” 

A dark, scarlet haze like the sky of the blood moon illuminated Miguel's eyes in the few moments they slipped open to catch a glimpse of you. You wondered if he needed a reality check. Maybe he thought he was hallucinating, maybe he thought that you weren't really there despite being pressed up against him and murmuring useless quips into his skin. You'd be sure to leave an impression on him; your hand quickened, gripping tighter and pulling the way he directed you to far too many years ago, but his barbed hand caught your wrist. 

“Stop,” he gasped. His chest rose and fell with his light panting as he stared you down. Want radiated off of him like an animal starved. You knew what was rattling around in his mind before he even spoke. 

“You want to fuck me, is that it?” 

Miguel's breath hitched. 

–

You made him ravenous. You were the only thing he wanted to feast on, delicacies and sanguine temptations be damned. 

One of his large hands held your waist in a death grip while his other hand held your head down, forcing your incoherent ramblings into the soft, silken sheets as he rammed you from behind like a beast in heat. You took it well, too, not that you hadn't before–he always held back, appeared to you as human when he fucked you previously. But now that you knew the truth, now that you knew what lay hidden in the dark nooks of his bones’ marrow, he felt complete. And that meant he could completely lay claim to you, too. 

He matched the curve of your back with his chest when he leaned over you, burying his nose into your neck and shoulder to indulge in your scent. Your vampire's desire to breed slowed and steadied into deep, thoughtful rolls of his hips. Perhaps his mind had caught up with him and ushered him to slow down, to abandon some of that reckless excitement. 

Miguel heard the slightest mumble of his name on your lips and leaned down further to touch his own to your cheekbone. One arm looped underneath your throat in a benign chokehold of sorts, while his other hand threaded through your hair–if he wasn't fucking you like an animal before, this makeshift mating lock he had on you sealed the deal. 

“You feel good,” Miguel murmured, voice tickling the shell of your ear. 

“Hah. I, ah, always feel good,” you tried to quip back, but your expression betrayed the fraying threads of whatever self-control you still desperately clung to. “You’re, uh…unhinged, hey?” Miguel scoffed. “Like a…a wild beast.” 

“Oh?” A purr hummed through his chest, piercing your body and rattling through your own lungs in seismic pulses. “A wild beast? Flattering.”

“Really, darling, you don't have to be such a sarcastic asshole when you're–” a hard snap of his hips sent you spiraling for a moment, “--in my ass.” 

“Maybe you should watch your mouth,” he suggested. 

“Maybe you could watch it for me,” you countered. 

The warmth of his laugh sent chills scattering across your skin. He pulled out of you and turned you over, dragging your hips back against him before his powerful body engulfed yours again. Miguel liked this more. He liked the feeling of your hands grabbing and clawing at him, the way your thighs attached to his waist, how you bit your bottom lip while your eyes screwed shut from the overwhelming feeling of your partner destroying you.

And of course, his lips could meet yours like this. The sweet tang of copper and berries, a taste so familiar and so you, was shared between tongues, kept secret in the crevices of teeth. It amazed Miguel how much one little kiss could push him over the edge and make the bed creak and groan with you as he loved on you and made sure to send the message straight to your core. 

Your hands fisted in his hair when you came undone. That lovely voice of yours poured into Miguel's eager mouth, and you tightened, pulling him to the edge and pushing him over with the might of a wild stampede. Claws nipped your skin, fangs pierced deeper, yet his rutting hit deepest, and burned you alive with unbearable, liquid heat.

–

“Why me?” You asked into the stillness of the room. 

Calm silence answered you for a long moment. The sun bloomed beyond the thick curtains, you noticed in your wait, and you wondered if you would ever miss the sight. England never truly had bright, sunny days from what you recalled; stretches of smokey, grey overcast clouded the skies and your memories more often than not. Could your vampire walk amongst the living like this?

Miguel sighed, leaning into the hand carding through his hair. “Figured you’d understand.” 

“I’d understand what?”

“Killing to survive.” 

“How long have you known?” You wondered, unsurprised. 

“Blood tells stories,” he whispered. Long, dark eyelashes fluttered a moment before crimson eyes peered open the slightest bit. “Your story’s long. Complicated. You’re too young for it.” 

A smile twitched onto your face. You adjusted in the bed, getting more comfortable on your side in those pooling, satin sheets. “So you thought I’d be an easy target for sex, then? Desperate and young as I was.”

He found your eyes, his gaze earnest and bleeding. “I–you–fine, at first it was like you said. Maybe. But after enough time, I decided you weren’t like the rest. You’re as supernatural as I am.”

“Supernaturally handsome? I agree.”

“Stop.”

“You didn’t think I’d be afraid of you.”

“I’d hoped as much.” 

“And you still didn’t tell me.” Your fingertips danced along the arch of his cheekbone, leaving pleasant sparks against his skin in their wake, unbeknownst to you. “Were you scared?”

“I’d rather have you as a man for whatever time we had together than to lose you to a beast,” he explained, cryptic as one would expect an old legend to be. “I’ve lost too much already because of…this. Because of me. I didn’t want to lose more.” Miguel’s dark brows furrowed. “If you ended up fearing me to, I–”

You silenced him with a hand over his mouth. “Enough. I understand.” You palm smoothed back up to cup his face. “You needn’t be afraid of me–well, being afraid, I suppose. I’ll stay.” You took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing your forehead to his. “This bed’s too comfortable to give up, after all.”

His breath fanned against your skin as he chuckled, tired and perhaps tinted with disbelief. “Well, you can stay here as long as you want.”

“Brilliant. Would you even let me drink your blood?”

The rumble of a growl, or perhaps a purr, rolled through his chest into yours. You searched his eyes, wondering, hoping, and found mere slices of ruby peeking out from behind eclipsing pupils. 

“We’ll see.”

[abundanceofnots]

a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.

“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.

Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”

It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.

“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”

Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.

This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.

The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.

In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.

He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.

It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.

This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.

Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.

Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”

“For us. Definitely.”

They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.

How the fuck did they get here?

“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”

“Okay!”

With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.

“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.

“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”

“Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”

“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.

Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”

“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”

“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”

“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”

Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.

“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.

“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”

Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”

“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”

That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.

“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”

“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.

“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.

“Hah. No.”

“You told Mickey yet?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”

From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.

“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”

The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.

“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.

“Polite,” Lip appraises.

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”

“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”

They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.

“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”

Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”

“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”

Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.

“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.

Ian gives his brother a pointed look.

“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”

“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”

“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.

“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”

“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.

“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”

“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.

“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.

“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.

“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Told you he was.”

“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”

“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.

Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”

Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”

Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”

Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”

Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”

“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”

“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.

Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.

“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”

Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.

Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?

[nitw]

Can you explain what you mean with misinterpreting Chara? I've always been confused about that character and you seem to have a pretty solid read you alluded to in that post about Snowgrave.

of course!!! as your local chara defender since the ripe age of 13 i hope you don't mind me doing a small essay on this. please bear with me tho because i sometimes can't articulate my thoughts well on stories that deal with philosophical themes ;;

UHHH SPOILERS FOR UNDERTALE AND DELTARUNE CHAPTER 2 BELOW

first let me make a few things clear so i don't have to repeat myself a bunch:

only tobias radiation fox himself has The Word of God privilege when it comes to things that haven't been explicitly confirmed in the games yet, EVEN if they're strongly hinted at. don't take anything i say about the plot as more than firm personal interpretation based on the info we have right now!

i cannot stress this one enough: undertale is a game that was never meant to be experienced from a singular perspective/mindset. the genocide route doesn't JUST exist for the sake of "enjoy your personalized edgy fuck-you run for being a serial killer in a video game", every one of the total 93 endings (look it up) in this game exists to reflect the player who achieved it in one way or another. the genocide route is really no different from any of the others, because in the end, no matter what, the player who decided to go through with the things they did will ALWAYS be rewarded for it. the question the player will have to ask THEMSELF afterwards is "is this what i wanted?"

OK MOVING ON-

let's think back to the little but vital amount of info we have on who chara actually was, like, as a person. we know pretty much all of this due to 1) the tapes in the royal lab 2) asriel's additional dialogue at the end of true pacifist.

while we'll never really know why frisk fell into the underground, asriel tells us explicitly about chara's hatred for humanity, and how they jumped from mt. ebott for "not a very happy reason"; supposedly a suicide attempt. chara "never talked about why", it's left intentionally vague because their reasoning isn't really what matters. what DOES matter is how this is relevant to the genocide run, ESPECIALLY with the new obvious parallels in deltarune's snowgrave route. i'll get to that.

when you finish the genocide route, chara will talk directly to the player in person. they talk about your (you AND chara's) success, despite "their plan (having) failed". this "plan" is one they secretly made with asriel when they were both still alive, as revealed from the tapes. chara got terminally poisoned from eating buttercups (whether this was fully intentional or not is still kiiinda up for debate), and while on their deathbed, asriel says that he doesn't like the plan anymore. yet despite his fear, he still fused his soul to chara's when they died.

the actual plan here was to become a monster powerful enough to slaughter humanity, specifically chara's home village by their own dying request - this all ties into their mysterious spite and hatred mentioned before. but due to asriel's resistance against chara, their fused body was killed by the humans - which eventually led to the creation of flowey, and asriel's inner demons after death.

but back to the genocide route. during chara's monologue to the player, they give us a LOT of important exposition. basically:

at the very start of the game, frisk's own determination is literally what brought chara's soul 'back to life'. we know how human and monster souls are different and how "determination" in this universe is something only humans possess, so it makes sense why it awakened them. i won't get into the whole narrator theory because i feel like it's not that relevant to my point (it's fun tho), but chara is always present from the moment frisk falls down, and stays regardless of the player's actions.

if you managed to finish undertale at all you'll already kinda know this (thanks sans), but the EXP and LV you (can) gain throughout your journey aren't just numbers on your screen - they're genuine in-universe manifestations of power that increase when you kill someone. and in genocide, chara explains how they were directly affected every time your stats rose. they could FEEL their spirit growing stronger for every life you decided to take (REMINDER THAT THE GENOCIDE ROUTE CAN BE PERMANENTLY STOPPED AT ANY POINT BEFORE SANS. YOU DID THIS.), so is it really that strange that they felt the desire to grow even stronger?

and once you do reach this point, there's no return. all that excessive time and effort you put into killing off a civilization OBVIOUSLY has some consequences. the consequences HERE being - if you paid attention to chara's life story - you took advantage of a traumatized child who was already at the breaking point and making irrational choices on their own, and you led them to believe that this was what they needed!

this is VERY MUCH SUPPORTED by the snowgrave/weird/pipis/whatever route of deltarune chapter 2 that was discovered about 2 days ago as i'm writing this. i'm gonna go ahead and assume you know what happens in it and i don't care to go into details if you don't, since this post is about chara, but surprise: THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED TO NOELLE, TOO! even in a completely normal run, noelle makes it clear multiple times that she wouldn't mind staying in the dark world; that in spite of how scary and dangerous it seems at times (something something horror movies), she started to feel at home. POSSIBLY even more so than her ACTUAL HOME, with her dying dad and negligent mom. like chara, noelle is a young person with low self esteem and her fair share of trauma, even if it's not as apparent. and like in the genocide run, the player's desire to ruthlessly kill in order to grow stronger affected her already-poor mental state.

someone else already pointed this out specifically, so don't credit me for it, but the main difference between chara and noelle is that noelle managed to break free in the end.

if you're like Most People Who Played The Genocide Route Back In Like 2016 and you played the genocide route with no further knowledge about it than "i have to follow these specific steps to get a harder fucked up version of the game", i don't blame you. you didn't actually know what you were doing in the end, did you? but did the outcome disappoint you, make sense to you, or did it just leave you with an empty/confused feeling? i love undertale because it WILL force you to think about things like that. i mean, if the result wasn't gonna affect you in SOME way, why would you go through all of that trouble in the first place? you had your reasons, as the player of any video game where you know your choices matter. would you have carried out the entire thing if you knew what was coming? the answer to that is only relevant to yourself.

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 18.

Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3100+

Chapter Eighteen:

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Steve chuckled, bringing his mug to his lips as his sister walked in with a sleep ridden face. She gave him the silent bird before moving to the coffee pot. “I see your morning self hasn’t changed.”

“What are you still doing here? I thought you would have left for work by now?” Y/N asked with a tired voice as she walked to the fridge for creamer. 

He had ended up staying the night and sleeping in his old room that had been transferred into the guest bed. Him and his sister had been up late talking and catching up. 

“Eh, I’m going in a few hours later since I’ve been doing overtime recently,” Steve shrugged, leaning back and watching her sit across from him. She was wearing a giant T-shirt and some old pajama pants that she tiredly tried to straighten from their disheveled state. “What’s your excuse for not being ready for work?”

“I don’t have to be there until 9 today,” she answered with her eyes closed. 

There was a comfortable silence as the two sipped on their coffee and Steve read the newspaper. Looking over he saw her practically falling back asleep in her seat. 

“I guess I need to talk to Bucky soon…” He spoke up. Her eyes opened at that and she turned to him. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean now that I know the case, and now that I know you’re both happy, I don’t have a right to be a jackass anymore I guess,” he shrugged with a smirk. 

“I’m glad you came to terms that you were a jackass,” she chuckled, punching his arm playfully. “We’ve been waiting a few years on that one.”

“Hey, I can call myself a jackass, but you watch yourself,” he warned in a light manner. 

“Sure thing… Jackass,” she mumbled with a smile. Before he could start an argument, she diverted the conversation. “So, should I warn him, or-?”

“I don’t care. We have different shifts today, so I’ll see him tonight probably and talk to him.”

“Ok, then I’ll let you do the talking. I would warn him yourself though. He’s been a nervous wreck around this topic with you. Anytime he thinks about how we’ve hurt you, he gets upset and really anxious,” she explained more seriously. 

“I mean, I don’t blame him. This was a shitty kind of situation to go through, but mom was right. Neither side of the problem was handled well,” Steve sighed. “I’ll text him before.”

“Good,” Y/N nodded. “Want me to come?”

“No, I think we need to talk ourselves,” Steve sighed. “If you know what I mean.”

“I get it,” she nodded standing and grabbing her mug. “Well, I’m going to get ready for work. Mind if I come over tonight though? You know, when the coast is clear? Maybe we can all have a movie night like back in the day! Becca and Sam are invited too,” she pointed to him. 

“Sounds like a plan. You’re paying for pizza though. Since you have an adult job now, it’s only fair,” Steve said with raised eyebrows. 

“Hey, I-”

“You owe me,” he cut her off. 

She glared at him for using the given past situation as a way to get free food. 

“That’s low, big bro,” she deadpanned. 

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same thing,” he scoffed with a smile, going back to the paper in front of him. 

“Touche,” she nodded with a pursed lip. “At least text me when I can head over, so I don’t interrupt you guys' bromance session.”

“Shut up,” he groaned as she left the room. 

________

Once Y/N got to work, a few hours into her shift, she got a call from Bucky.

“Hey, B,” she smiled through the phone as she went through the loads of papers in her hands. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Bucky replied just as sweetly. “Guess who texted me today?”

“Hmm, Barack Obama?” Y/N responded. “Wait, no! Michelle Obama.”

“Haha, very close, but no,” he chuckled. “You’re brother reached out.”

“Is that so?” Y/N faked surprise.

“I’m guessing you guys' conversation last night went well considering your chipper mood?” he questioned. “Or they went horribly wrong and you’re just a really good actress.”

“We all know I can’t act even if my life depended on it,” she laughed, changing the phone to her other ear as she wrote some notes on a paper. 

“It’s true. You’re a horrible liar,” Bucky confirmed.

“I’m not even going to argue it no matter how much I want to,” she shrugged. “But I would say things went well. I mean we may or may not have gotten into a wrestling match on the front lawn, and mom might as well have dragged us by the ears inside to have a civil conversation, but besides that…”

“Oh God, Y/N… What the hell happened?” 

She just knew he was pitching the bridge of his nose on the other end. 

“Nothing too crazy. It’s just sibling fighting,” she waved off. 

“At least tell me you gave him a chance. You didn’t beat his ass too much, hopefully. You know we’re trying to win him over, not push him further away, right?” Bucky had a smile in his voice, clearly just joking around. 

“You know? Kids’ gotten stronger since middle school,” she noted. 

“I would hope so. He fought in a war and chases bad guys for a living. Can’t have scrawny middle school Steve doing that kind of stuff. He’d get a nose bleed just looking at the wrong guy.”

The two laughed for a little reminiscing at little Steve before he bulked up in high school. But after some joking, Bucky brought the conversation back where he started. 

“But in all honesty, I shouldn’t be too worried about tonight?” he asked. The nerves in his voice were clear to Y/N. 

“No, Bumble Bee. We talked it out, screamed it out, and fought it out. And in doing so, we had a good conversation. Thank Sarah Rogers for keeping us on track and not letting us walk away until it was resolved,” she assured, putting his mind at rest. 

“Ok, good…” Bucky sighed on the other end. A moment of silence went by as if he was trying to process it. 

“Hey, I know you guys still need to talk, but I do want you to know that it’ll be all ok in the end. Don’t get too worked up about it,” Y/N said softly. “26 years of being best pals can’t be ruined by this little bump. You said it yourself.”

Bucky let out a breath and nodded. “You’re right. It… It’s just, I hate that he found out how he did, and…” he paused. “It just kinda sucked seeing him that upset.”

“I get it,” Y/N nodded on her end. “But hey,” she added. “We’ll all be ok. Truly.”

“I trust you, doll,” he grinned. There was some distant talking on the phone and Bucky humming. “Hey, I have to go. Boss needs me for something. Call you later?” 

“For sure. Have a good day, and let me know if you need anything!” 

“Right back at you. Love you, sweetheart,” he slipped out the last part unconsciously. 

There was a moment of silence as the two were stunned. Neither had said the “L” word yet… At least not to each other…

“Uh,” Bucky stuttered out. “I-I-...”

“Buck-,” Y/N started in just as much shock. 

Another round of someone shouting on the other line that wasn’t Bucky came through through the phone. 

“I have to go! Talk to you later,” Bucky shouted into the phone. 

Before she could say anything else, the line ended and she slowly pulled back the phone seeing her lock screen blank. No words came out after that. 

She just stared at the screen where a picture of her Bucky, Becca, and Steve all were embedded in a bear hug together. An old picture, but one that she always loved and cherished with a group of her favorite humans. 

She also loved it because even though it was before Bucky and her had become an item, they were squished against each other. Bucky was smiling wide and caught in a laugh as he looked down at her, catching her from stumbling to the ground, and she was laughing as she gripped his arm to find her balance. Steve and Becca laughing on the side at her clumsy self, and the fact someone was always having to help her stay on two feet. Bucky having always been one of those top people in her life. 

She smiled down at the memory and couldn’t help but feel those little flutters move from her stomach to her chest and eventually make her cheeks heat up. 

_________________

Now he had two things to freak out about. One being Steve and his talk tonight. Yes, he knew he didn’t really need to after Y/N’s reassurance that things would be fine, but still. It was a strange conversation to have with your best friend. 

“Sorry I fell in love with your sister and hid it from you. My best friend of over a quarter of a decade. Not to mention you found out from me coming out of her room half naked after you thought she was home alone...” 

Yeah, that was going to be weird no matter how ok they were now… 

Then you add in, he just casually told Y/N that he loved her before hanging up the phone. He didn’t mean to. It just felt so natural in the moment! 

He wanted to make the first time he said it special, not just by accident…

God, his heart was racing and now he had four hours left of his work day to let those things just stir around in his head. Great. Maybe that 3rd cup of coffee wasn’t that great of an idea.

_______________

“So, everything’s good with you guys?” Sam asked after Steve let him in on everything.

“Yeah. I mean Buck and I still need to talk it out, but… I don’t know. I can’t be mad if they’re both happy at the end of the day. Happiest I’ve seen either of them in a while, if I’m being honest,” Steve shrugged with a small smile. 

“See, I knew that’d be the case at the end of the day. I tried telling Bucky that,” Sam shook his head as he finished up the dishes. “And sorry man about not saying anything. I didn’t think it was my place to,” he apologized. 

“No, I get it. This was their own thing. You were just being a good friend to Bucky and letting him figure this out himself,” Steve waved. 

“He’ll be home in a little. You worried?” Sam asked, washing his hands off. 

“No, if anyone’s nervous it’ll be Bucky. Y/N and I had a really good talk last night. No matter how upset I was before, I now know where they were coming from,” Steve sighed. “Did I agree with it? No, but we all have different ways we would go about things.”

“True facts,” Sam smiled. “Well, I’ll hoard myself in my room for a while until the coast is clear. Let me know if you guys need anything, ok?” 

“Got it. Oh, and Y/N said she was going to come over after with pizza for a movie night, if you want to join,” Steve pointed out moving to the couch. 

“I’m here for it,” Sam nodded, going down the hall to his room. “Call me when all is resolved.”

Steve nodded and plopped down on the couch skimming through the channels as he waited for Bucky. About 15 minutes later, he heard the lock turn and quietly the brunette made his way in with caution. 

“Hey,” Steve said softly, turning from the end of the couch. 

“Hey,” Bucky said with a soft smile as he put his things by the door. 

These were the first words they had spoken in over 2 weeks. They hadn’t talked since the whole fight in the backyard.

“How was work?” Steve asked, making small talk. 

“Nothing too crazy today,” Bucky shrugged, walking to the back of the couch with his hands in his pockets. “Oh, Lillian asked about you again.” 

“From accounting?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Only Lillian I know that’s obsessed with you,” Bucky laughed lightly. 

“God, I’m not ready for that…” Steve returned the chuckle. 

It got quiet after that. Not awkward, but not comfortable either. 

“So…” 

“Listen, Bucky,” Steve sitting back in his chair running a hand across his face. “I’m sorry, I punched you after-”

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” Bucky waved him off, coming around the couch slowly to sit on the opposite end. 

“Ok, yeah. You’re right,” Steve nodded with another small laugh. Again another pregnant pause. “I gotta know. Why didn’t you just tell me, Buck?”

He took in a deep breath before answering. “I’m sure Y/N told you, but we didn’t want things to have a bad falling out and it be awkward for everyone else-.”

“No, not that. Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t going to do it from the start?” Steve interrupted.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Y/N said that you guys went back and forth on not going through with this because you didn’t want to hurt me. I mean, maybe that’s not that big of a deal, but it changes things on my end some,” Steve explained. Bucky just sent him a blank stare. “What I mean is, when I first figured everything out, I was hurt because I thought you didn’t even consider me in your decisions. I know, it sounds selfish, but-”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re a part of the equation to some extent. Just like Becca is. But surprisingly Becca was excited and not freaked out about her best friend dating her big brother. It’s a little different being the big brother in the situation though,” he said softly. “It’s not selfish though Steve. If the roles were reversed and say you and Becca dated, I would hope you considered my feelings in the matter too.”

Steve was glad that he understood what he was getting at. He was worried it wouldn’t make sense or make him look like he thought the whole thing revolved around him. 

“Yeah…” Steve paused. “But you didn’t say anything about that when we did get in that fight. Why?”

“I don’t know… I guess I just wanted you to understand my feelings for her more than anything. I needed you to know that she wasn’t just some girl I was hoping to hook up with at some point.”

“I know you would never do that Buck. No matter how upset I was, I still don’t think that low of you,” Steve sighed. “And about that… I’m sorry I said you don’t deserve her… That was an extremely hard hit to the gut.”

“You were looking out for her,” Bucky said with pursed lips, but the pain from the past comment was clear. It didn’t feel good having your best friend who's been through thick and thin with you tell you weren’t worth something. 

“Yes, but that was a low blow and I said it out of hurt feelings. I was hurt, so I wanted you to be just as hurt. That wasn’t fair,” Steve concluded. “If there is anyone in this world that I trust to take care of Y/N just as much as me, it’s you Buck. I was just blinded by anger.”

“Understandably,” Bucky nodded, looking back at his friend a little less troubled. 

“Understandably,” Steve agreed. They stared at each other silently communicating. “I’m sorry.”

“If anyone is sorry, it’s me Steve,” Bucky shook his head running a hand down his thigh still slightly anxious. 

“How about we both agree that we didn’t handle this situation the best way,” Steve smiled. “I should have seen how happy you two were and not second guess how it happened. I shouldn’t have made it about me when you both clearly are what the other needs.”

“Steve-”

“Truly. You guys have been glowing the last two months with complete and utter happiness and I was so oblivious to pick up on it. I feel like a shitty brother and best friend.”

“You’re not a shitty brother or best friend. Not in the least,” Bucky said scooting to the edge of the couch. “You know that.”

“Y/N tell you we got in a fight on the lawn yesterday?” Steve asked with a small smirk. 

Bucky chuckled. “Yes. Said your mom about beat your asses out there too.”

“All because I was too stubborn to talk it out,” Steve shook his head while he threw it back on the back of the couch. 

“Eh, you said it yourself. We all didn’t handle this situation well,” Bucky chuckled. “She kicked your ass, didn’t she?” he said after a second. 

“Wouldn’t say that, but she must have worked out over seas because I couldn’t pin her like I used to. She was giving me a pretty decent fight,” Steve laughed loudly. 

“God, I would pay money to have someone get that on tape,” Bucky laughed with him. 

The two soaking up the now comfortable atmosphere. 

“So we’re ok, right?” Steve asked. “Leave all out petty, stubborn, and stupid mistakes in the past?”

“I’m fine with that if you are,” Bucky nodded. 

“Good. I’ve missed having my best friend around. I was getting tired of ignoring you,” Steve sighed, patting Bucky’s back. 

“You gave me good practice with your stubbornness for Y/N. Not that I haven’t been practicing with you both my whole life, but damn you guys are too bull-headed monsters.”

“We feed off each other's energy,” Steve shrugged with a smirk. 

“I know, it’s exhausting, yet entertaining all at the same time,” Bucky smiled as he moved his head side to side. 

A knock sounded at the door and they both turned toward the wooden panel. 

“Speaking of the devil,” Steve smiled standing up.

Bucky froze. 

Shit. One anxiety had been cured now, but he had almost forgotten about his second one...

(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)

I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.

The Number One Rule (TNOR) Taglist:

@shadowolf993 @hello-i-am-daydreaming @jessyballet  @emmabarnes @kmuir1  @beautifulrare4leafclover @thefallenbibliophilequote @l0ve-0f-my-life  @shawnie--jo–jo  @asoftie4bucky @katiaw2 @sheeple @sznri @bxtchboy69 @taliarosej00 @bakugouswh0r3 @stopjustlovethemcu @babemendesxz @jenniereiji @taliarosej00 @loveyou5everr @natdrunk @im-a-light-child @stucky-my-ship @fairykimseok

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness

@bellamy-barnes

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555 @iheartsebastianstan @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

Rewriting Haggar/Honerva’s redemption arc

One of the many things that bothered me about VLD S8 is Honerva’s redemption arc. While I was never fully against the idea of Honerva getting a redemption arc, I just didn’t want VLD to do it because I knew that they would fuck it up if they tried. And low and behold, I was right!

But yeah, I wasn’t against the idea of her being redeemed. And I don’t mean “redeemed” as in “all is forgiven and she’s just a good guy now,” but more like a Darth Vader, “the things she did were inexcusable and she would never be able to right all her wrongs but she goes out on one good act to show that there was still good in her deep down and she at least had the potential to change.”

I know a lot of people don’t like the whole, “redemption=death” thing, which I understand, but I personally never had a problem with it.

Ok, so why didn’t Honerva’s redemption work? Well there are a few reasons but the one that baffles me the most is that, instead of trying to make her more sympathetic, season 8 seemed to go out of its way to show her being more evil and vile than ever.

And because I have nothing better to do, I’m gonna go through Honerva’s story in VLD and explain what I would change to make her redemption more believable.

(Keep in mind I am not a writer, this is just me ranting about my favorite character and how I personally would’ve written her.)

1. Realizing she’s Altean

I always thought it’s was weird that when Allura said “you’re...Altean!?” In the S2 finale, Haggar didn’t seem to react at all, she just kept attacking. It’s as if she didn’t care or already knew, which doesn’t make sense considering in the S3 finale and S8E2 it’s established that Haggar has no memory of who she was before she died. And in S4E3 she seems shocked by her Altean face (which also doesn’t make sense because her blue skin isn’t camouflage that’s just how she looks after the rift) so it seems like she didn’t know.

Wouldn’t it have made more sence if after Allura said “you’re...Altean!?” Honerva looked confused/shocked? If she became defensive and said Allura was lying/trying to insult her? There’s def anti-Altean propaganda in the empire so it would be considered an insult.

After that she starts questioning Zarkon. And when she looks into his mind, it’s out of genuine curiosity and desire to know the truth, not because, “the empire needs him” or whatever that meant.

And isn’t it a bit odd that she doesn’t seem betrayed at all when she finds out Zarkon has been keeping all this from her? She’s just like, “oh, you’re my husband? Cool.” Wtf???

2. Her past relationship with Zarkon

Okay, I love Zonerva, but if we’re being honest, Zarkon was not the best husband. He enabled the shit out of Honerva, even when it was obvious that the rift was doing serious damage to her physical and mental health. To me, it seems like Zarkon was so blinded by the power the rift gave him that he didn’t realize/ignored the negative effect it was having on Honerva. In the same way he downplayed the negative impact the rift had on the planet.

I think that should’ve been explored more. Maybe Honerva notices that she’s been acting differently and is worried somethings wrong (think S5 Kuron). And Honerva tries to tell Zarkon that she feels strange and Zarkon just brushes it off.

And later, when Alfor visits Diaibazaal years later. Things are pretty much the same except when we sees Honerva, she is very obviously pregnant and Alfor’s there when Honerva falls and goes into labor (instead of a random quintessence seizure). Alfor and many Galran doctors try their best to save her and the baby but she dies in childbirth.

Zarkon goes ballistic. He’s yelling, throwing doctors across the room, and Alfor turns to the doctor holding Lotor and tells them to get the baby to safely, fearing Zarkon will take his grief out on the baby.

Zarkon turns on Alfor, blaming him for Honerva’s death and accusing him of letting her die so that he could get his way and close the rift. He lunges Alfor and roars at him to leave.

He spends the rest of the night grieving at Honerva’s bedside, when Kova jumps on the bed and starts gnawing on her finger trying to wake her up. This is what gives him the idea to bring her back with quintessence.

3. Her current relationship with Zarkon

I think it’s pretty safe to say that they’re relationship didn’t get better after the war began. Zarkon hid her identity and her child from her for 10,000 years and essentially used her as a tool of war. It’s pretty fucked up.

I know it’s pretty well established that Zarkon treats Haggar with more respect than his other underlings, but I feel like it would be interesting to see that change overtime. We see that after Voltron comes back, Zarkon becomes very obsessed with Voltron/Black, and he and Haggar start disagreeing more and more.

Remember the moment where one of Haggar’s druids told Zarkon Haggar said he needed to rest and Zarkon hit them with his bayard and told them, “remember who your master is”? What if, instead of a random druid, it was Haggar who he hit?

I feel like that would be a good way to show Haggar and the audience just how much Zarkon’s obsession with Voltron is affecting him, and make the audience feel a tiny bit bad for her.

Then later in season 4, when Zarkon wakes up from his coma and finds out Haggar brought Lotor back to take his place he gets pissed. He puts a price on Lotor’s head and has Haggar arrested for treason. She steals a ship, escapes, and later on meets up with Lotor’s generals.

Her and Zarkon are officially broken up and her quest to reclaim her identity and get her son back begins.

4. Oriande

I never liked the concept of chosen/sacred Alteans. The idea that some Alteans are just born more powerful than others just feels iffy. My idea of Oriande is that it’s an Altean holly land, any Altean can enter it just depends on whether or not you can pass the White Lion’s trial. Passing the trial proves that your intentions are pure and and the White Lion will bless you with power.

I didn’t like how Honerva seemed to force her way into Oriande, I think it would be more effective if she had gone through normally because, at this point, her intentions were pure. She was going there to purge herself of the dark magic corrupting her and reclaim her memories so she could go get her son back.

I also like the idea that Oriande is a sorta link to the Altean after life, and you can speak with people you’ve lost. Allura gets to speak with Alfor, and Honerva speaks with her mother.

You could also have her be confronted by the spirits of the Alteans she helped destroy. Have the weight of her past actions bear down on her. An important part of any redemption arc is acknowledging the terrible shit you’ve done in the past, and that was severely lacking in Honerva’s arc.

Another interesting thing you could do is have Honerva talk to her younger self. The one that died 10,000 years ago. This kinda thing actually happened in 80s Voltron, young Haggar appearing in Haggar’s head trying to convince her to be good again.

5. Her relationship with Lotor

Now this is where the redemption arc really falls apart. I forget who, but one of the writers said after S5 that Haggar/Honerva was motivated purely by love for her son, but man did they do a bad job of showing that.

And it would’ve been so easy to fix that problem, just have her not be horrible to him. Have them have actual civil conversations, have her protect and defend him. Don’t have her reject him as a fucking baby!

Imagine if, after Zarkon destroys Lotor’s planet, instead of immediately deciding to

exile him, Zarkon says that this is the final straw and he’s going to have Lotor executed. But Haggar speaks up to defend Him. There’s actually a scene in DOTU where Zarkon tries to kill Lotor and Haggar gets on her knees and begs for him to be spared. (Though the scene was mostly played for laughs.)

she asks for mercy and justifies it by saying it would be unwise to kill his only heir. It’s a weak argument, Lotor’s a half breed and couldn’t realistically take the throne, but Zarkon does concede, he still loves her after all, and has Lotor exiled.

And Haggar isn’t spying on him because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s concerned for him. When Lotor confronts Haggar about sending her cronies after him, she says she knows he’s hiding something. Lotor asks if she’s threatening him, thinking she’s going to rat him out, but she says no, she’s not threatening him, she’s just trying to warn him against doing anything stupid because, with Zarkon seemingly on his death bed, the empire needs Lotor’s leadership.

At this point in the story, Haggar is questioning her loyalty to Zarkon, so I feel like it would make sense for her to be silently supporting Lotor from the shadows.

Then at the Kral Zera in season 5, It was weird to me how she was helping Lotor through Kuron while also telling him he couldn’t be emperor and trying to put Sendak on the throne. I feel like it would’ve made more sense for Sendak to just show up on his own without Haggar.

Haggar wouldn’t even be at the Kral Zera, she would just watch through Kuron.

And then we get to S6 when she actually reveals to Lotor that she’s his mom. This scene was just so poorly done. She never actually apologizes to him, she’s just like “yeah I forgot you were my kid and I never loved you, but were cool now right?” I remember when I saw S8E2 and it shows her after Lotor rejects her and she looks like she’s about to cry, I was just thinking, “this would be very emotional and sad IF she had actually apologized and made it clear that she genuinely loved him.” But she didn’t and I don’t know why!

And then we get to season 8, and of course everything in S8 is bad but Honerva’s story is particularly bad. She’s supposed to be motivated by love for Lotor yet she doesn’t act like she actually cares about him at all.

She manipulates his corpse and when she sees his gross melted body, she doesn’t even react that much. When a mother sees her child’s mutilated corpse, how do you think she reacts? Screaming? Crying?? Hurling??? But no. She’s just like, “...”

And then when she goes to the alternate reality and meets baby Lotor and he rejects her, her reaction isn’t disappointment or sadness, it’s anger and entitlement. She immediately decides, “ok, fuck this kid. Let’s destroy this reality.”

It just doesn’t make sense! This is the season you’re trying to REDEEM her! Why are you going out of your way to make her so vile?

6. Her S7-S8 plan

(Keep in mind I haven’t watched S7/S8 since they came out and barely even watched S8 to begin with, so I don’t remember some things and I can’t be bothered to rewatch them.)

Okay, starting with S7, she’s not in this season at all but in “The Ruins” the druid dude says that her final order was to hunt and destroy the Blade of Marmora. I guess it makes a certain amount of sense because she saw that it was Keith who brought Lotor’s actions to light, but that whole plot was really pointless in my opinion. (Was anybody really hoping for a rematch between Keith and that one random druid?)

If you want us to forgive Honerva for her crimes, you really shouldn’t keep adding more unnecessary crimes. It’s established that there were a lot of Galra war lords vying for power and pirates looking for money, just have it be that Kolivan got kidnapped by one of them.

Then you have her season 8 plan and I’m gonna be real with y’all, I have no idea how to fix this mess.

I feel like the basics of her plan could work. She tries to get Lotor and Sincline out of the rift but when she gets him he’s a melted corpse so the plan then becomes to use sincline to go to another reality to find a living Lotor, but opening all these rifts causes problems and the paladins have to stop her.

But all the shit with manipulating the colony Alteans, killing the White Lion, desecrating Oriande, and destroying Olkarion and entire realities, it was all so unnecessary.

Personally I would cut the colony Alteans from the story all together, there are other ways for Lotor to betray the team. It was a lazy way of making Lotor 100% evil and having Honerva manipulate them is unnecessarily cruel, especially in the season you’re trying to redeem her.

Here’s a very basic outline of how I would do this plot.

If we’re going by season 8’s logic that she needs a sacrifice to bring back Sincline, I would’ve had the Galra she killed at the Kral Zera be the sacrifice, not the White Lion. She stands on the pyramid and talks about how the empire stole her life from her and she wants revenge as she absorbs their quintessence into herself and then uses that to bring back Sincline.

Then when she finds Lotor dead she takes Sincline and uses it to go to another reality where she can be with her family.

The danger comes when she opens rifts to the other realities and rift creatures start coming out and causing damage. The paladins fight them and follow her into the rift to stop whatever evil plan she may have. Because the paladins don’t know that Haggar is now Honerva and all this is just to get Lotor back. They think this is all some plan for multiverse domination or some shit.

Meanwhile Honerva has just been rejected by little Lotor and seeing Voltron show up pushes her over the edge and they fight.

But when they find out the real reason she’s doing all this they start trying to appeal to her and convince her to give up and close the rift peacefully. And similarly to how the paladins had to sacrifice the castle to close the rifts created by the fight with Lotor, Honerva has to sacrifice herself to close the rifts.

In the end, I feel like a Honerva redemption arc could’ve worked if the writers were actually competent and actually made an effort to have her be sympathetic, but In canon, her reasoning, “If I can’t indulge in the simple joys of life, why should anybody else?” just doesn’t cut it.

It’s disappointing. VLD had so much potential. I’m thinking of just rewriting the entire series from the beginning. Hopefully putting all my thoughts out into the universe will help me move on.

[viastro]

second life | xu minghao

ミ★ synopsis: in which jun and jeonghan pick out a book titled, Second Life, and find a message written to someone on the title page. it’s only then that they learn the untold story of two lovers who met at a library 35 years ago.

ミ★ genre: soulmate!au (kinda ?), multiple lives!au, fluff, light angst

ミ★ warnings: major character death (it’s not bad i promise)

ミ★ word count: 4,219

ミ★ pairings: xu minghao x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! when i wrote this oneshot, i couldn’t think of any other published book, so i decided to reference @sunlightwoo​‘s series, Second Life, which is really good so make sure to check it out ! i’m going to be a bit busy these upcoming weeks because i have finals soon, and i also just got a job as a boba barista ! i’ll try to post a oneshot at least once a week, but we’ll see how that goes HAHAHA as always, make sure to give lots of love to minghao <3 i hope you guys enjoy this one !!

“Who would wanna go to the library over the amusement park? And why is it you instead of Minghao?” Jun rolls his eyes at Jeonghan’s questions as the two of them step into the city library. They bow their heads in the elderly librarian’s direction, before walking further into the pretty empty space.

“Minghao keeps telling me to read more cause he’s tired of me bothering him.” Jun mutters as his eyes trail across the numerous books on the shelves. Jeonghan purses his lips, before nodding his head in agreement, knowing that Minghao is on the verge of possibly committing homicide if Jun barges into his apartment one more time unannounced.

“This looks nice.” Jun says quietly to himself as he pulls out the story titled, Second Life. He opens the cover, only to tilt his head at the writing scrawled on the title page. Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at Jun’s confused expression, so he leans in close to check out what he’s looking at. 

for yn,

as a reminder for a fairly wonderful day. i hope for many more to come. 

affectionately yours, 

xmh

“I guess this book was donated?” Jeonghan asks, glancing down at the page to see that it was published long before the two were alive. Jun nods his head, and they head over to the front desk to rent the story. 

“Ah, no one’s checked out this book in a long time.” The librarian says softly, hand grazing slightly over the written words. Jun and Jeonghan share a glance, before turning back towards the elderly woman. “Do you perhaps… know the person who wrote that message?” 

She glances up at the two handsome men, seeing their curious expressions on their faces. The librarian lets out a smile, nodding her head as she stamps the sticker in the book and slides it back in Jun’s direction. 

“They were a beautiful couple. I was just a young girl starting my first job as a librarian when they first met here, actually.” Jun finds himself growing more intrigued, as does Jeonghan since the two appear to be holding onto the librarians every word. 

“Can we hear their story?” Jeonghan asks, and they watch as the librarian smiles, before nodding her head. She gestures for them to move towards the couches, and she walks out from behind the desk and sits in front of the two. 

“It’s a bit of a long one, if that’s okay.” The librarian warns, and Jun and Jeonghan shake their heads, telling her that it’s no problem. She lets out a sigh, glancing out the window to see the yellow rays from the warm, summer sun shine into the library. 

“It was a beautiful spring day when they first met.”

Fucking hate pollen, you think grumpily to yourself as you rub your nose in an attempt to hold back the monstrous sneeze that threatens to escape if you inhale one more breath of the spring air. You notice the library around the corner, and quicken your pace as you walk over to escape from the allergy infested air. 

Once you’re there, you practically rip open the door and jump inside the quiet building. You let out a sigh of relief once the door closes behind you, and you pause, realizing how loud you must’ve been when you entered the library. So you turn your head slowly, just to find the relatively young librarian standing there with wide eyes, and you let out a small smile. 

“I’m so sor-” The words die in your throat when you feel that familiar feeling in the back of your nose, and you quietly try to fight it back. 

god, please. I’m in the place that’s supposed to be quiet, so if you humiliate me and make me sne-

You let out a loud sneeze that resembles the sound of the large stampede of wildebeest that killed Mufasa in the Lion King, and it makes you want to shrivel up and die right in the entrance of the library. You wouldn’t mind, really. It’d be a peaceful way to go out, just right here. In this library. Actually, it’d be rather pleasa-

“Do you need a tissue?” You turn your head to see the young librarian holding out a tissue box from her desk, and you let out an embarrassed smile. Shaking your head, you lift up your hand to tell her that you’re fine, only to stop and turn when you hear the door open from behind you. 

A tall man walks in with long red hair that’s parted down the middle. He’s wearing a black turtleneck with a sheer blue button down over it. Running a hand through his hair, he glances up from the floor and locks eyes with you once the door closes.

Love at first sight. You never believed it, didn’t understand the concept, really. Even thought it was stupid. How could you fall in love with someone just from a first glance? 

So why is it that you can’t seem to be able to breathe as you stare up into his deep, brown eyes that seem to hold millions of thoughts as they bore into yours. Feeling heat rush up to your cheeks, you turn away first, and he quietly coughs into his shoulder. 

“Sorry.” You mumble as you step to the side, feeling embarrassed for just staring at the ethereal man with an awed expression. You’re sure that he thinks you’re weird, and you debate on ways to escape the library while also being able to handle your allergies.

if i just shove the pieces of tissue up my nose, then i won’t sneeze every five seconds. brilliant.

However, the thoughts come to a stop when you find his hand outstretched towards you. Slowly, you glance up at the man, just to find a small smile on his face as he stares at you. 

“Hi, I’m Minghao.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you slowly reach out and grasp his hand softly, letting out a grin when you do so. You watch as his eyes seem to twinkle in the sunlight, and you wonder how someone can be so ethereal as you say, 

“Hi, I’m yn.”

“This book is taking a rather tragic turn.” You mutter as you turn the page, and Minghao glances at you out of the corner of his eye. He bites back a smile when he sees you upside down on the beanbag chair, reading Romeo and Juliet as you do so. Letting out a breath he responds, “You’ve read that book three times already, you should know that it’s not a good story.”

Rolling your eyes, you close the book and shoot the pretty man a glare. Minghao giggles when he sees you grumble to yourself about him always attacking you whenever you pick up any work of Shakespeares. You don’t blame him, Romeo and Juliet sucks, but you read the story for entertainment purposes. 

“Always ruining my fun.” You complain as you move to the aisle to pick up another story. Minghao grins, placing his book down after marking his spot and following after you. 

It’s been three months since you and Minghao met at this library, and the two of you have been meeting here almost every weekend just to read together. You’ve discovered that Minghao is not only physically pretty, but his talent and personality is truly unmatched. While Minghao has noticed that you shine brighter than all the stars in the sky whenever you speak of a book you’ve come to love. 

Secretly the two of you have developed feelings for the other, but as always, neither of you have made a move.

“Are you going to pick out another boring story?” Minghao teases from beside you, and you shoot him a glare, “You stink.”  

Minghao smiles, about to poke fun at you again, only to stop when he takes notice of the young librarian standing at the end of the aisle, holding up two glasses of water. You turn to glance in the direction Minghao is staring in, and immediately grin when you lock eyes with Areum.

“Areum! Are you going to read with us today?” You ask as you and Minghao walk over, quietly thanking her for the beverage as you both take a sip. She grins, shaking her head, and you immediately pout. “Why not?”

“I’m still on my shift, and I know how much you two enjoy your time together.” Areum says with a wink, and you feel the warmth rising to your face in an instant, quietly cursing Areum for her comments about you and Minghao. 

Minghao clears his throat when Areum wiggles her eyebrows at him, and she smiles brightly at the two of you. “I’ll try and join you guys when I finish my shift, but just come to the front desk if you need anything.” 

You both nod your head and watch as Areum turns and leaves the aisle. Letting out a breath, you turn and pull out a soft yellow book from the shelf, before walking back over to you and Minghao’s designated reading spot in the back of the library. 

“What lame book did you get this time?” Minghao asks, and you scoff as you sit back down in the comfortable chair. You turn over so that you’re upside down, and he giggles at your strange position. “You’re lame.”

“Rude.” You grin at his response before holding out the book you chose, watching as the silver letters of the title reflect back at you. “It’s called, Second Life, I actually haven’t read this one before.”  

Minghao purses his lips at the unfamiliar name, and you turn the book around so that he can also get a good look at it. Nodding his head, he pulls open his book again, “It seems interesting.” 

“Wow, that’s the first time you didn’t call one of the books I chose, lame.” You joke, and Minghao chuckles. He shrugs his shoulders, turning to glance at you, only to find you already staring back at him. 

Feeling the air shift between the two of you, you turn away after staring at each other in silence, and open up to the first page of the story. Minghao bites the inside of his cheek, before looking away and going back into his book as well.

The three unspoken words are left lingering in his brain as he glances over his book to take a peek at you, only to look back down.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” You ask as you watch Minghao look through the numerous books on the shelf to try to figure out what to read. He halts his movements, turning to glance down at you. “Do you?” 

Shrugging your shoulders, you glance down at the book you hold in your hands as you recall what you felt the first moment you and Minghao locked eyes. The pretty man purses his lips, feeling his heart thump within his chest as he finally pulls out a book he decided to read. 

“I didn’t, originally.” Minghao begins, and you raise an eyebrow. He stays quiet for a second, debating on whether or not he should continue as you tilt your head to the side at his silence. Running a hand through your hair you ask, “What happened that made you change your mind?” 

Minghao turns towards you, and your eyes widen slightly when you take in how nervous he looks. He bites the inside of his cheek, rethinking his decision one more time. 

you can back out, there’s no reason to say anyth-

“Then I met you.” Minghao says softly, completely ignoring his rampant thoughts, and the two of you stare at each other in silence for a long time as you let his words soak in. He lets out a sad laugh at the shocked expression on your face, running a hand through his pretty red hair as he nods his head with a tight-lipped smile. “It’s okay, I understand-”

You take a step forward and wrap your arms around his waist, making the rest of Minghao’s words die in his throat. A smile forms on your face when you feel his arms tentatively wrap around your body, his hand moving to cradle your head. 

“You love me too?” Minghao asks, sounding breathless due to the shock of the feeling being mutual. You nod your head, closing your eyes when you hear his rapid heartbeat against your ear. 

“At first sight.” You mutter softly, and Minghao smiles at your words. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, and the two of you stay like that for a while in the library aisle. Books that are in your grasp now forgotten as you hold each other.

Areum glances up when she hears the doors to the library open, and lets out a small smile when she sees you and Minghao walking in, fingers intertwined as you both immediately head towards the front desk to greet the young librarian. 

“Hi Areum!” You whisper excitedly, and Areum greets you and Minghao with just as much enthusiasm. Minghao watches with a fond smile when the two of you begin to discuss any strange customers walking into the library, and Areum grins when she catches sight of this.

You and Minghao have been dating for six months, and still manage to come to the library almost every weekend. Areum is sure that the two of you have read every single book in this library by now, but she doesn’t question it. She enjoys your guys’ company. 

“I’m going to set up our spot, are you gonna talk to Areum?” You ask Minghao once you and Areum finish your conversation on the guy who walked into the library just to look for any dust. Minghao nods his head, and you shoot him a thumbs up, before walking over to the reading spot. 

“Did you need something, Minghao?” Areum asks as she begins to sort through the books atop of her desk. Minghao nods his head, glancing over in the direction you walked off to see if you’ll hear anything. She raises an eyebrow when Minghao pulls out a book from the pocket on the inside of his jacket, watching as he places it in front of her. 

“Second Life? Are you returning this?” Areum asks, and Minghao shakes his head. He purses his lips, before pointing at the book with his finger as he grabs a pen. “I was wondering if I could buy it. It’s the book yn was reading when I confessed to her, and I think it’d be ni-”

“Of course!” Minghao’s eyes widen slightly when Areum scans the book, having not expected it to be that easy.

“Really? Are you sure I don’t have to go through a process to get the book or like-”

“Nope, just pay the cost and the book is yours. It’s not a big deal.” Areum reassures with a smile, only to internally slap herself when she realizes she’ll have to order another one later in her shift. 

Curse Minghao and yn for being the most precious couple ever.

“Thank you so much, Areum.” Minghao says as he hands her money to cover the cost of the book. She grins, nodding her head as she hands back then leftover change. Once the transaction goes through, Minghao open the book to the first page and clicks the pen. 

“Are you going to write a message?” Areum asks, and Minghao nods his head with a small smile on his face. She watches as the words make their way onto the page, and she feels her heart warm when he places the pen back down on the table. 

“Thank you so much for letting me buy this. I’m gonna go head to the back with yn, are you gonna join us to read later?” Areum nods her head with a smile, and Minghao shoots her a thumbs up. He turns and walks to the back where you are, and Areum lets out a happy sigh. 

“Never thought soulmates could be real until I saw those two.” Areum mutters to herself, chuckling when she hears you let out an awe, most likely due to Minghao handing you the book as a present. 

“Maybe I should leave the painting to you, huh?” You say as you take a step back to stare at your canvas, and Minghao hums when he turns around from his own creation to take a look at yours. He lets out a smile at the numerous smiley faces and flowers you painted, thinking that the painting is rather endearing. “I think it looks nice.” 

You scoff with a playful grin, pointing over at his painting that numerous different colors, all splattered onto the canvas. You don’t understand how he was able to make paint splatters look beautiful, but this is Xu Minghao we’re talking about. The most talented man you know. 

“Says the reincarnated Picasso over here.” You joke, and Minghao rolls his eyes. He places his paintbrush into the cup and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around the back of your shoulders and resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“Yours is sweet, it speaks volumes on your personality.” Minghao explains, grinning at the excessive use of yellow. You squint at the painting, turning to glance up at your boyfriend, causing him to smile down at you. “Which is?”

Minghao purses his lips, glancing back at the painting once more to think about his response. He giggles, looking back down at you with a teasing smile on his face. 

“Someone who doesn’t know how to paint.” You reach out and slap his stomach, making him double over in laughter as you chuckle in response. Minghao lets out a happy sigh, finally calmed down from his joke as he stands back up at his full height. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to your lips, before pulling away and grinning. “I’m kidding, art is whatever you want it to be. I’ll hang this up in my room when it dries.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, watching as Minghao walks back over to his painting to start cleaning up. You watch as he quietly hums a song to himself, and you let out a content sigh, ignoring the pain in your head in order to enjoy what’s going on in front of you. Minghao feels your eyes on him, and he turns back to see you smiling softly at him. 

“Mmm, you’re staring again.” Minghao murmurs as he places the paint tubes back into their container. You shrug your shoulders, a sad smile on your face as you stare at your pretty boyfriend, “I just like seeing you.” 

Minghao pauses, a slight blush rising to his cheeks as he proceeds to continue cleaning up. You grin, before turning back to start cleaning up your area as well, grimacing from the growing pain in your head that you’re trying to ignore. Minghao turns and catches sight of the sunlight casting a glow on your face, and he smiles softly. 

“I like seeing you too, yn.” 

Areum walks over to the front desk, moving to check back in the books that were returned, only to hear the bells of the door. She raises an eyebrow, only to let out a smile when she sees Minghao walking in. 

“Hey Minghao! Where’s yn? The two of you haven’t been here for a few months.” Areum says cheerfully, only to feel her heart fall slightly at the sad smile Minghao sends her way. He bites his lip as he walks over and rests his hands on the top of the desk. 

His long red hair isn’t styled like it usually is, instead just laying over his forehead. She takes notice of the dark bags under his eyes, and the slight hollowness to his cheeks. Areum opens her mouth to ask if everything’s alright, only to stop when Minghao places the soft yellow book face up on the desk. She stares at the cover, and slowly looks up at Minghao, trying to see if what she’s thinking isn’t true when she locks eyes with the pretty man whose face always held a smile when he was in the library with you. 

“Yn’s gone.” Minghao mutters softly, thumb grazing over the letters of the title on the book. Areum clenches her fist tightly together at her side, refusing to believe his words. Minghao bites the inside of his cheek harshly, before pushing the yellow book he bought towards Areum’s direction. 

“It’s yours now. Thank you for the kindness you showed yn and I whenever we came here, I know she appreciated it a lot.” Minghao tells Areum, before turning around to walk out. Areum’s eyes widen slightly, and she walks out from behind the desk and stands right behind the tall man.

“W-why does this sound like goodbye? You’re coming back, aren’t you?” Areum asks, eyes frantically searching Minghao’s when he turns to glance at her. He reaches out and softly pats Areum’s shoulder, giving her a smile that no longer holds any light. “Maybe if my second life is kind to me, then I’ll be back.” 

And with that, Minghao turns and walks out of the library, leaving Areum to stand there, sadness overcoming her heart as she watches his figure slowly shrink until it disappears.

“His name is Minghao?” Jun asks once Areum finishes the story, and she nods her head, taking a sip of water to fix her parched throat. Jeonghan and Jun share a glance, before turning back towards the librarian. “Did you ever hear from him after that?” 

Areum nods her head again, letting out a small smile. “He sent me a letter from Singapore a few years after he left the library, but I learned that he got into a car accident a month prior to when I received it. He passed at an early age, but I’m glad to hear that he was doing alright. It’s been maybe, 25 years since he passed.” 

Jeonghan purses his lips, glancing at the book Jun grabbed. He leans forward in the seat, and Areum glances up at him. “We actually have a friend named-”

“I didn’t think you guys would actually go to a library.” The three turn to glance at the sound of the voice, finding Minghao standing at the doorway with a bright smile on his face. Areum’s eyes widen, and she slowly stands up from the couch in shock at the sight. 

It’s Minghao, she thinks to herself as she stares at him. His hair is now its natural shade of black, a contrast to his long red hair years ago, but it’s still a similar length. He looks up and locks eyes with Areum, and he tilts his head to the side, a smile still on his face as he bows in her direction. “Hello, I’m Minghao.” 

Jun and Jeonghan glance at each other when they see the shocked expression on Areum’s face, and the pieces of the puzzle slowly make their way together when suddenly the bell on the door rings again. The three of them glance at the door, and Minghao slowly turns his head, just to feel his breath get caught in his throat. 

Your eyes widen slightly at all the people crowded near the door, and you stop when you realize someone is right in front of you. You glance up and lock eyes with the prettiest man you’ve ever seen, and all the thoughts in your brain disappear at the sight of him. A familiar feeling floods your senses, one that you can only relate to the feeling of coming home. 

Unbeknownst to you, Minghao is feeling the exact same thing. Except he feels more emotional as he stares down at you, heart pounding against his chest when he catches the sparkle in your eye.

Areum’s mouth drops open when she sees the exact same scene she saw 35 years ago when you and Minghao first met. Her heart thumps against her chest, and she slowly raises her hand until it rests against her heart as she stares at the two of you. 

“You look familiar, have we met before?” You ask in a small voice, letting out a smile when you catch sight of the redness to his ears. Minghao clears his throat, smiling when he sees the brightness to your eyes. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” 

The two of you stare at each other for a moment longer, before you extend your hand in his direction. You tilt your head to the side with a shy smile on your face, “Hi, I’m yn.” 

Minghao bites the inside of his cheek, grinning when he reaches out and grasps your hand. He feels warmth flood his features at the contact, finding you both beautiful, and familiar. It’s as if he’s experiencing deja vu when he says, “Hi, I’m Minghao.” 

Jun and Jeonghan turn and look at the soft yellow book resting on the table, and Jun let's out a breathless chuckle. He runs his hand over the title, smiling when he looks back towards you and Minghao. 

“His second life. He found you again in his second life.”

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga We’re Going Down

part 12

masterlist

Hello, my darlings! I have an update for you!  Please enjoy the drama that will be unfolding in this chapter as well as the chapters to come.--- chaotic puff

Y/N was grateful for the extra money her new job brought in, but it didn’t make the new found separation with her son any easier.  At least once a weekend she was called away, and it was usually overnight. It was hard on both of them. Eun Jae didn’t understand why his mother was away so much, and she hated seeing him upset. It was why she was taking the time to take him to the park. 

She should have been working on some project or another, but she was much happier watching her son run around the playground with a wide smile on his face. He loved the park, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she didn’t get to take him there more often. Today was a perfect day for it though. It was unseasonably warm, and Eun Jae could run around in a lighter jacket instead of his heavier winter coat which gave the little boy more ease of movement as he dashed around the playground. 

Y/N was lost in her thoughts watching her favorite little guy when she noticed the other moms beginning to whisper amongst themselves. She didn’t pay it much mind though as she assumed it was just the latest neighborhood gossip. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been whispered about before either. She was an unwed mother. It got her plenty of ridicule from the other moms. What was odd was how they had started to gather around, moving closer to where she was. She knew well enough that they weren’t going to suddenly welcome her into the fold, so why were they getting closer? 

“Y/N?” 

She froze knowing who she would see if she turned around and hoping against hope that he would just disappear. He didn’t. 

“What are you doing here?” she hissed running to face him. 

“I just want to see him. Is that so bad?” he asked pasting on the most contrite pair of puppy dog eyes he could manage. 

“Yes!” she cast a quick glance over her shoulder making sure that Eun Jae hadn’t noticed anything yet. He hadn’t. He was blissfully unaware and running around the playground with the other toddlers. “You can’t be here.” 

“I just want to see him. He’s my son.” 

“Kim Taehyung.” she snapped, shooting him a withering glare. “He is not your son, and you need to go.” 

“He’s my kid.” he pleaded, peering around her trying to catch sight of the little boy. “I just want to meet him.” 

“That’s not your decision to make.” she squared her shoulders and did her best to make the same stoic, terrifying face her grandmother made when she was displeased. “You should leave.” 

Taehyung scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared her down. Neither of them was willing to budge, but unlike Taehyung, she had paternal rights. “You can’t make me go.” 

“I can call the cops and say that there’s a strange man harassing me and my child.” her head tilted to the side sassily as she waited for him to back down. 

“Like the cops would believe that the heir to Singularity Enterprises was harassing you. I can promise you they won’t.” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt him.” 

“Take a look around, Taehyung. You really think you belong here?” she huffed, placing her hands on her hips casting her gaze around her neighborhood. It wasn’t a bad area per say, but it certainly wasn’t what Taehyung was used to, and he stood out like a sore thumb in his designer clothes. They were already attracting the gazes of the other moms. “Eun Jae certainly doesn’t need another parental figure to dip in and out of his life like the utter failure they are. So you want to meet him now? What’s going to happen in a month when you get bored of playing house?” Taehyung stared at her in shock. People didn’t talk to him like this. “Do us all a favor and go.” 

“I’m not going to abandon him.” he protested, recovering himself. “He’s my kid.” 

“Great! Where were you the past three years?” 

“I wasn’t allow…” 

“Don’t.” she scoffed. “You’re a grown man. You could have been here if you wanted to.” 

“I’m here now. I want to meet him.” 

“How is that fair to us?” 

“How is it fair that I don’t get to be a part of his life?” he countered. 

“You signed away your rights before he was even born. He doesn’t know you, and he doesn’t need you.” 

“Every kid needs a father.” 

She sighed pinching the bridge of her nose as she did her best not to yell at the man. “He’s a kid, Taehyung, a baby. He doesn’t need anymore disappointing parental figures. You want to be here now, but what happens when you get a family of your own? Eun Jae is always going to be your teenage indiscretion, but he’s my whole world.” 

“He’s not…” 

Before either of them could continue, a little body smashed into her legs wrapping little arms tightly around them. 

“Swings, eomma!” he demanded staring up at her with a bright smile. 

Both adults were frozen staring down at the little boy. Taehyung was the first to recover, kneeling down to the toddler's height with a bright, boxy grin. 

“Hey, buddy.” he greeted not even phased as Eun Jae retreated hiding behind his mother’s legs as he stared at the stranger with wide eyes. “It’s nice to meet you.” the little boy said nothing, choosing instead to cling to his mother’s legs even tighter than before. “I’m Taehyung.” 

Eun Jae ignored him, pulling on her tunic-like shirt instead. “Swings?” he asked again, staring up at his mother with big pleading eyes. 

“Okay, baby.” she hummed, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Let’s go to the swings.” 

The toddler nodded furiously reaching up to grab her hand, tugging her towards the playground. “Swings, eomma, swings!” 

She followed behind her child praying that Taehyung would get the hint and leave. Eun Jae had in typical fashion for the toddler, rejected the stranger preferring the company of his mother, but Taehyung didn’t seem to care as he followed behind them a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Eomma.” Eun Jae tugged on her hand again. “Who’s the weird man?” 

Y/N did her best to suppress the laugh that bubbled up, but she didn’t quite succeed. Instead a choked chuckle like snort erupted. “He’s just a weird man, baby.” 

“I’m a friend of your eomma’s.” Taehyung interrupted catching up to them and addressing the toddler with a smile that just didn’t seem to get any less bright no matter how many times they both rejected him. 

“No you’re not.” he frowned, glaring up at the adult. “Auntie Nina is eomma’s friend.” he explained, his brows scrunched up in confusion. 

“Eomma can have more than one friend.” The look on the kid’s face told them both that he didn’t think so. It was a blank expression that looked far too similar to Taehyung’s for her comfort, and it didn’t escape Taehyung’s notice either. “He kinda looks like me doesn’t he?” He smirked, staring down at the child proudly. 

“No.” Eun Jae frowned. “I look like Eomma. Halmeoni said so. You’re a weird man.” he pouted, once more clinging to his mother’s legs. 

“You can look like more than one person.” Taehyung explained even though Eun Jae only buried his face into her leg. 

“I don’t want swings.” He whined reaching his arms up in a silent plea to be held, and Y/N complied, swinging the toddler up onto her hip where he promptly buried his face in her neck. “I don’t like him. Wanna go home.” 

Y/N gently bounced him on her hip, hushing him as his little fingers clenched her shirt. “You wanna go home, Jae Jae?” She cooed, rubbing his back with her free hand as he nodded into her neck. “Okay, baby. Let’s go home.” 

“Y/N.” Taehyung called out, reaching for her as she began to walk away.

“I think you’ve done enough for one day.” She hissed, tightening her grip on her child. “Don’t you?” 

She strode away, hyper aware of the stares of both Taehyung and the other mothers as she did. This was going to be the talk of the playground for at least a week or two, and Y/N wasn’t looking forward to the invasive questions she would get asked the next time she and Eun Jae went there. 

Y/N didn’t want to admit it, but she moved more quickly than she would have normally as she took her son home. She was rattled. As much as she hated to admit it, she was rattled. She didn’t like Taehyung showing up in her neighborhood, at her park. She didn’t like the fact that he ignored her wishes and met Eun Jae. 

If she had wanted them to meet, she would have prepared. She would have explained things to the toddler. She would have arranged things so that they were in a safe and comfortable place for both her and Eun Jae. She certainly wouldn’t have suggested he ambush them at the park. 

The fact of the matter was that she  was Eun Jae’s mother, and she was the only one that had parental rights. Ha Jin didn’t, and Taehyung certainly didn’t. He didn’t get to decide what was best for Eun Jae. He didn’t get to show up on a whim. He didn’t get to uproot their lives because he suddenly decided he wanted to be part of the life of a child he couldn’t have given a shit about until he ran into her the week before. 

“Eomma?” Eun Jae asked as she unlocked the door to her apartment. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Pororo?” 

“Sure, buddy.” She agreed, kicking off her shoes and shutting the door behind them, before taking off Eu Jae’s shoes as well. 

The toddler was quick to run into the apartment and settle himself in front of her small television as she put on the cartoon for him. It was one of his favorites, and she couldn’t blame him. The penguin was pretty cute. 

“Eomma?” he called as she went to the kitchen to get a snack for him. 

“Yeah, buddy?” 

“Cuddles?” he pleaded, staring at her with big puppy dog eyes. 

She smiled, handing him a little bowl of dried mango slices. “Sure, buddy. Eomma just has to make a quick phone call first. Okay?” 

He nodded, flopping back down with his snack as he turned his attention to the cartoon penguin and his dinosaur friend. 

Y/N moved back to the kitchen pulling out her phone as she considered what she was going to tell Yoongi. She was meant to go to his concert, but she didn’t feel right leaving Eun Jae, not after what had happened at the park. Part of her was terrified that Taehyung was going to show up while she was gone and take him away. 

“Angel?” Yoongi’s raspy voice asked from the other end of the line.

“Hi.” She sighed out shakily. Yoongi was quick to pick up on it. Nothing ever seemed to slip past him.

“Is everything alright?” Concern colored his tone, and she could hear people moving around in the background. 

Part of her felt bad for calling when she knew he was busy preparing for his concert, but Eun Jae had to come first. He always had to come first. “I’m so sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make it to the concert.” 

There was a drawn out pause, and she could practically see the scowl on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, voice lowering into a growl. “Are you alright? I can send Jackson…” 

“No!” she was quick to stop him. “No. I’m just not feeling well. I just need to stay home and rest.” 

It was a lie, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

“Are you alright? Do you have a fever? Do you need to go to the doctor?” he demanded, and she was half convinced he was going to come to see her himself if she didn’t cut him off soon. “I’ll send Jackson over to take you to the doctor. I’ll set up an appointment…”

“That’s really not necessary. I just need to rest. I’ll be fine in a day or two.” she promised, knowing full well she was perfectly fine now. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure. I’m sorry for missing your concert.” 

“Just get better.” he sighed heavily. “You can come to the next one.” 

“Thank you.” 

“If you need anything, call.” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

She hung up shortly after not knowing the mayhem she had caused for Yoongi’s staff. The mixture of her cancellation and worry for her health had put the rapper into a horrible mood. A worried Yoongi wasn’t a pleasant Yoongi.

part 13

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)

The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme.

genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe)  words: 4.1k warnings: mentions of alcohol

a/n: im certified atsumu simp now 

taglist: @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa @carbs-need-more-love @underratedmage @idek-at-thispoint @wtfeverbrandi @food8me @yikes-buddy @ntimacy @nyxiie

| Chapter One |

Chapter Two

When you turn the corner to head towards the gym, Atsumu is already waiting for you. Determined to make this as convincing as possible, he slings an arm around your shoulders and you do a fantastic job of pressing yourself against his side, wrapping your own arm around his middle. You ignore the thought that he is comfortingly warm and very solid next you, reminding yourself you’re doing this for peaceful showers.

The two of you approach the gym and as if they were waiting for you, the entire team is standing at the entrance. A few of their brows raise, clearly surprised Atsumu wasn’t lying. Though some of them look suspicious, eyeing the two of you up and you prepare yourself for questions.

When you get within earshot, one of them shouts, “Wow Miya, we really thought you were lying!”

“Yeah! Why’ve you been hiding this beauty from us, huh?”

Before he can speak, for some reason you decide to take the blame, answering, “I was a little nervous to meet you all for a while.”

If Atsumu is surprised at all, he hides it, instead holding you a bit closer, his hand splaying across your opposite shoulder and gushing, “Cute, isn’t she?”

One of them who doesn’t seem convinced asks, “So how’d you meet?”

Now Atsumu takes the lead. “Funny story actually! We met in the bathroom! Her favorite shower stall is the one right next to mine, and we both like late night showers.”

You can’t help the frown that turns your lips downward. “He wouldn’t leave me alone,” you admit, making the members of the team smirk a little bit. “I swear, he’d wait around for me.”

“I did not!” He pouts, and it’s beginning to look like the more suspicious members are starting to believe you.

So, you go in for the kill. “Sure, you didn’t,” you smile, reaching up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek that you don’t give yourself time to think is okay or not. That seems to stun Atsumu, which is a feat in itself, but you don’t give anyone time to think anything of it as you give them a light wave goodbye and slip out of Atsumu’s arms. “It was nice meeting you all, but shouldn’t you get to practice? I’m sure I’ll be seeing you more often now!”

They give you parting waves, some of them just as stunned as Atsumu seems to be. On your way out, you risk a glance backwards and see them surround Atsumu, one of them pulling him into a headlock and ruffling his blonde locks while they all laugh and enter the gym. Atsumu grinning the widest of them all. You aren’t sure why, but you’re smiling too. Strangely glad to have helped him out.

His teammates encircle him, clapping him on the back and congratulating him, jokingly calling him a bastard for going and snagging a girl like that. He can’t help thinking the same. You shocked him with that kiss out of the blue, enough that he probably looked more lovestruck than shocked to his teammates. He’s impressed with your commitment to this charade.

Before he disappears into the gym, Atsumu takes one last look at you heading down the path. That went perfectly. And even though he knows he shouldn’t, he thinks about that small little kiss the entire practice.

The following days are absolute hell. You have to garner the courage to tell your roommate before word gets out because the rumor that Miya Atsumu finally has a girlfriend spreads like wildfire. She’s hurt at first, but like you suspect, she forgives you after you tell her how you and Atsumu met.

She seems to think the shower story is the most adorable thing she’s ever heard as her squeals of, “So cute!!” are loud enough you swear the entire floor must hear it.

Your daily routine changes, feeling like you have to peer around every corner in fear of the fan club waiting to ambush you. But after reluctantly disclosing that to Atsumu, you notice he makes a point to walk with you whenever he can. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and once when you actually do run in to the fan club, the glare he gives them is cold enough to ice over a lake and you’re pretty sure they won’t bother you even if Atsumu is absent.

Additionally, you and Atsumu start spending a lot more time together. You eat lunch with him almost every day, sometimes joined by a few members of the team, sometimes by your roommate, other times the two of you eat alone. And you’re beginning to find those are the days you like the most. The days when the two of you can just be without feeling the pressure to pretend.

“So does your brother still play volleyball?” You ask one day, curious why if they were such a powerhouse in high school why they didn’t continue that into college.

“I always liked volleyball just a little more than him.”

“He quit?”

Atsumu shrugs, shoving another mouthful of rice into his mouth. “He went to culinary school, always had a weird place in his heart for food.”

“And that was volleyball for you?”

He stares at you, unprepared for this barrage of questions. There was this strange familiarity growing between the two of you, and the more time he spends with you alone the more he feels like he knows you. It makes it easier to pretend for everyone else, but he’s starting to wonder if it’s making it harder for him to remember this is all pretend.

Before he can reply, you continue, “If you love volleyball so much, why aren’t you playing professionally then?”

His brows lift. “And how did yer pretty little ears hear about that?”

You roll your eyes, but definitely need to shove the feeling of embarrassment down to be able to admit, “My roommate told me.”

“Curious today, aren’tcha?”

You stiffen. “Well, I should probably know these things if we’re dating,” you mumble, returning to your food trying to hide your flustered expression.

Yet again, you surprise him with your commitment to this façade. The two of you could easily sit here in silence since it’s just the two of you, but since you’ve started eating lunch together both of you have started to get to know the other more. So, he just smiles at you and admits, “Yeah, I could, but I was kinda lookin’ forward to the whole college experience, ya know?” He rests his chin in his hand, wondering if he should continue. He hasn’t really told anyone his feelings about playing professionally, and how he feels that with every day he ignores the offers the less likely he’ll be able to make the transition the longer he waits. “I’m still thinkin’ about it. The offers are still there.”

You cock your head, and he refuses to look at you, feeling like you have a gift for seeing straight through him. “Is college that great?”

Now he laughs, and in an attempt to bring this conversation back to lighter waters he wraps an arm around you and smothers you against his chest teasing, “Yeah, otherwise I wouldn’ta met you!”

You roll your eyes and tell yourself that for the sake of the charade you let yourself sink into his embrace. When he releases you, you stick your tongue out at him. “I know you purposefully changed the subject, but I’ll let it slide. Consider yourself lucky.”

He puts his hands together in a fake prayer. “I’ll forever remember the kindness,” he says dramatically.

To which you scoff, “I highly doubt that.”

~

You study together when he’s available, but usually volleyball takes precedence over studying most nights. Sometimes he joins you in the library late at night, finding you in your favorite corner, plopping down beside you, blonde hair damp from the quick shower he took and distracting you from schoolwork with how practice went that day.

Already a few weeks in to your agreement, one night the two of you are in the library rather late, Atsumu’s practice ended late and he has a paper due in the morning that he’s desperate to finish. For the first hour, he’s chatty, unable to focus on what he needs to get done, despite constant reminders from you and promises that you’ll go get ice cream from the dining hall when he finishes.

The next hour, he seems to get in the zone, typing furiously away on his computer. Honestly, he isn’t sure if what he’s writing is even good but at this point, he doesn’t care, it just needs to get done.

But after his stint of concentration, you’re suddenly struck by the realization that he’s been silent beside you for a few minutes now. No sound of typing or conversation, and it goes on long enough that you become concerned. Looking over, you find him slumped over in his chair, head on his keyboard, fast asleep.

You fight the urge to laugh at him. Taking only a few selfish moments to marvel over his face, his usual smirking expression replaced by his eyes softly closed and his mouth slightly open. He sighs a deep breath before subconsciously stretching his arms out across the table and you get a nice view of his biceps flexing beneath his black shirt.

It’s then you become aware that you’ve been staring at him way too long and shake him awake.

His eyes flutter open, and upon seeing you, that once infuriating smirk he likes to wear rises to his lips. “Who woulda thought I’d be wakin’ up to a pretty girl lookin’ at me like that,” he drawls, knowing exactly how to fluster you.

You shake your head, laughing and packing up your things. “Come on big baby, it’s bedtime.”

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, picking his head up and promptly stuffing his things away in his bag. You decide to ignore what his soft, sleepy voice is doing to your heart rate and instead focus on how he’s putting his things away. That backfires on you, as you start thinking about how long and deft his fingers are and you have to physically look away from him to stop your mind going in that direction.

The two of you leave the library, walking quietly back to your dorm building, you aren’t expecting his hand to slip into yours; those long fingers you were just trying to get out of your head intertwining with yours. You look up at him confusedly and without looking at you, he brushes it off, “Just in case.”

You press your lips into a firm line, replying, “Right.”

He won’t dare admit he did that subconsciously. He just reached out for your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, only realizing his mistake from the confused expression you gave him. He internalizes his sigh of relief that he can pass it off as keeping up your fake relationship and you seem none the wiser.

When you make it up to your floor, at the point in the hallway where you need to split ways, despite nobody being around that you need to fake for, you press a light kiss to his cheek and say, “Goodnight Atsumu.”

You’re gone before he can get a reply in.

~

You start coming to his games more often, dragging your roommate along (though she doesn’t mind one bit) and do your best to ignore just how good he looks playing volleyball. It doesn’t help that your roommate keeps commenting things like, “god you are so lucky,” and “just look at him!”

You are looking at him. And it pisses you off that she’s right. He’s annoyingly god-like, and you find yourself staring at his biceps and thighs a lot more than is necessary. Your heart fluttering traitorously whenever he grins when he makes a successful play. Even when he raises his fist to silence the crowd when he serves, which before you thought was utterly ridiculous—you now find yourself holding your breath as goosebumps spread across your skin.

He denies to himself just how much he loves seeing you in the stands. Unable to stop the feeling that swells in his chest with the way you look at him. With the fan club, he knows all they see is the surface. He’s cocky enough to know he’s good-looking (and if he didn’t think so, the fan club certainly feels otherwise). But with you—you look like you want to devour him. He doesn’t know if you are aware of it or not, but you watch him with predatory intent in a way he can’t explain that makes the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

At some point, he has to admit it. He fucking loves it.

One particularly memorable game, he swears you never take your eyes off him. And he feels like he’s at the top of his game, like nothing can go wrong for him. He’s so full of adrenaline and excitement afterwards that when he finds you in the hallway, he sweeps you up into an enormous hug. Your laughter filling the air and god—he loves your laugh; he could listen to it forever.

You don’t even care how sweaty he is or really if anyone is watching. Your instinct is to wrap your arms around him and squeeze him back, your ego inflating from the glares you can feel boring into your back from the fan club. And it’s easy—far too easy to forget that all of this is fake.

Especially when he pulls away only to plant a kiss right on your mouth, his body too full of adrenaline to truly realize what he’s doing.

And instead of pushing him away, you selfishly pull him closer, fingers laced behind his neck and body slotting against him so perfectly he has to resist the urge to groan. He cradles your head, drawing out the kiss for as long as he can consider appropriate, every fiber of his being screaming at him to just confess to you.

Instead, he lets you go, both of you chalking it up to the adrenaline and the charade. Both secretly knowing it was more than that to both of you.

And you don’t speak of it again, continuing with your sham relationship like nothing has changed.

But a lot of things have changed. It’s been almost 2 months since this started, well past the time needed to convince his teammates this is real. Some part of him refuses to bring it up, unwilling to let you go and wanting to drag this on for as long as possible.  

Despite knowing that this will all have to come to an end eventually.

~

“You gotta be there!” He pouts, doing a wonderful job of obscuring your view of the notebook on the table in front of you. “There’s no way my girlfriend would miss it!”

You groan, head resting on the chair behind you. Atsumu has been trying to convince you for the better part of the hour to come to the party the volleyball team is throwing this weekend. No matter how many times you’ve expressed your disinterest, he’s relentless.

He wiggles his brows. “I’ll throw in an invitation for your roommate too,” he says, knowing full well your roommate will be a pain in your side if she finds out you got invited to this party and refrained from taking her with.

Now you sigh, annoyed that he knows you well enough to sweeten the deal like that. And it isn’t the party that is deterring you, it’s a certain blonde-haired volleyball setter that you’ve been getting far too close to lately that’s making you hesitate. Something about the atmosphere of a party and a little alcohol in both of your systems makes you uneasy. And not in a bad way.

“You promise not to ditch me?” You pout, faking the reason you don’t want to attend.

He crosses over his heart. “I swear it. And besides, I’d be crazy to let ya wander around by yerself.” He gives you a quick wink, then a kiss to your cheek and he’s off to practice, shouting over his shoulder that the party starts at nine.

Your roommate is over the moon at the invitation, insisting you can’t possibly show up right at nine. So, you and she show up fashionably late around ten. Within a few moments, Atsumu finds you and gathers you up into his arms, whispering in your ear, “You’re late, where ya been?”

You smirk. “Roommate insisted on being fashionably late.”

He just chuckles, low in his throat and directly beside your ear—a sound that makes your toes involuntarily curl in your shoes. God, if you’re already curling your toes at the sound of just his voice you’re in for a long night. After releasing you, he easily greets your roommate and takes the two of you to the kitchen where cans of various alcohols are waiting.

You swear your roommate is going to combust with joy, taking a can for herself then happily heading off towards the dance floor. You’re glad she’s pretty independent as you can already feel you’re going to be glued to Atsumu’s side the entire night. You eye the drinks, sigh, and take one for yourself. If this night���s going to be long, might as well enjoy it.

He just watches you, amused, and unable to stop himself from thinking about how good you fucking look tonight. He wanted you to be here not to keep up the act of your relationship but because he actually wants to spend time with you. Lately, it’s the highlight of most of his days, and sue him if he wants to have a little fun.

Setting an arm on your shoulder, he first parades you around the party, letting everyone see just who he’s ‘dating’ and feeling his ego boost from the looks of jealousy he garners from a few people. The teammates who have eaten lunch with you a few times are happy to see you, indulging you in a bit of chit chat and helping loosen you up.

You might’ve been embarrassed to be on Atsumu’s arm had it not felt so damn great to be met with looks of jealousy from guys and girls alike, and it was doing wonders for your self-confidence. Enough that you tap him on the arm and ask to be taken back to the kitchen for another drink. He graciously obliges you, and once both of you have another can in hand, he finds somewhere for you two to sit.

It doesn’t even occur to you how easy it is to curl up beside him, his arm around you on the back of the couch, hand resting on your opposite shoulder while the two of you observe the party in full swing.

“You guys really know how to throw a party,” you comment, nodding to the room that was completely cleared out to make room for a dance floor.

“What’s that?” He teases. “I thought you didn’t want to come!”

Poking him in the side and refusing to look up at him, you admit, “I changed my mind.”

You know you’ve dug yourself a nice little hole when he continues, “Are my ears deceiving me? Are you admitting you were wrong?”

“Spare me,” you beg, a grin on your lips nonetheless. It’s then you spot your roommate out on the dance floor, her eyes connecting with yours long enough that she starts beckoning you towards her. “Oh god,” you groan.

She doesn’t stop though, instead abandoning the dance floor and approaching you and Atsumu. “Excuse me sir, but I’m gunna have to steal her for a dance or two.”

Subconsciously you cling to Atsumu, jerking your eyes up to him as he smiles easily saying, “Of course.” Taking your arm, she pulls you up from the couch and out of Atsumu’s arms, dragging you towards the dance floor while you look back at him with a pleading expression. He only waves idly back at you, that infuriating smirk splaying across his lips.

Worming her way into the throng of bodies, she puts her hands on your hips forcing you to sway them along to the music, laughing and encouraging you to ‘let go!!’. Eventually, there’s no resisting the thumping music or the movement of bodies around you, and soon your laughter is mixing with hers as the two of you dance ridiculously with one another.

Atsumu watches from the couch, utterly entranced at your change in behavior. He’s unable to look at anyone else but you, like the rest of the party falls away and its just you on that dancefloor swaying your hips under the flashing lights. He hardly knows what to do with himself as you laugh alongside your roommate, unaware he’s watching you.

At some point, you remember the boy you came here for, and fight your way to the edge of the crowd to catch sight of him. He’s where you left him, sitting on a couch a room away, an ankle crossed over his knee, still drinking his beer and looking unbothered by your absence. You look at him a moment, sitting there in his fitted black tee and dark jeans, so casually good-looking it isn’t fair.

His dark eyes meet yours and there’s something in them that sends goosebumps prickling across your skin. You’re barely even tipsy but there must be something stirring your boldness, otherwise you would have never lifted a hand and beckoned him towards you.

He’s pinned to his seat for a moment when you motion him to join you on the dancefloor. He has an uncanny suspicion that something is going to happen out there, under the safety of the pulsing lights and hidden by the mass of bodies. But some part of him wants that, whispering that it’s all he wants. So, he rises, setting his can on a nearby table and strides out to meet you.

A fire lights in your stomach as he stops in front of you, and now that he’s here you are quite sure what to do with yourself. “You looked bored,” you lie.

“Well, my date ditched me,” he remarks. “But I like her, so I’ll let it slide.”

Your answering smile is enough to send him through the roof. And soon, you’re engulfed by the surging crowd, getting sucked into the middle of the floor, a sense of reality slipping out from beneath the two of you. His hands at your waist, your body pressed up against his, his forehead resting on yours—he’s desperate to close the gap between the two of you. Dying to kiss you, to feel your lips mold to his, fingers lacing in his hair—he wonders what kind of sounds he could elicit from you, sounds just for him, sounds that would get lost in the thumping beat.

His better sense tells him to resist. Knowing that even though you’ve kissed before, this one would be different. It’s just the two of you, free from the pressure of pretending, he wouldn’t be able to pass it off as an act. And even if he could, he isn’t sure he wants to.

All the while, you’re watching him, wondering if he’s going to take the leap. Part of you urging him to. Pathetically wanting him to smother you in his arms and the two of you can just ignore it all tomorrow. It’s seemingly what you do best.

He doesn’t though, allowing him to just enjoy this moment—your proximity, warm breath mingling with his, arms resting on his broad shoulders as the crowd undulates around you. To him, there’s nothing else around, just you and your body fitting perfectly to his, back curved to press closer to him—he’s pitifully so lost in the way you’re moving those hips making him move along with you.

He’s grateful that if you notice him struggling to keep his composure, you don’t say anything. But when he glances at your face, you’re blissfully unaware of his plight, eyes closed murmuring along to the music and relishing the moment in your own way. Your thoughts dominated by how warm he is, how solid he feels, how his hands are resting on your back.

And the two of you stay like that, until you’re broken from your reverie by one of his teammates whistling loudly at the two of you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively that Atsumu just huffs a breath out at.

“I think I need another drink,” you say, pulling away from him.

His arms feel empty now, the clamor of the party destroying the quiet and intimate bubble the two of you had created. But instead of doing anything about it, he just gives you a winning smile—one he feels is half-assed, replying, “Ditto.”

[organic-guacamole]

episode 209 spoilers below

I'm so late today but here it is

I love EJ, he's finally learning to be happy. I'm so proud.

Ms Jenn = every boomer during zoom calls, like jeez yes we can hear you stop shouting at me.

LOVE THE SUBTLE JOKE ABOUT QUARANTINE "these dark times" "you mean spring break?"

ah yes, remember when we thought covid was just gonna give us a longer spring break? good times

SEBLOS

damn the passive aggressiveness from Carlos and the absolutely over it tone from seb✋

CASWELL COUSINS!!!!! THEY'RE THE BEST!!!!

we needed more if this kind of goofiness for the first part of season 2 that only such an iconic duo can provide.

old old movies-

is it even that old, or is Nini being a gen alpha rn-

i choose to imagine EJ being scared of the movie and hiding in Ashlyn's shoulder while she keeps a straight face and then EJ pretending to be tough afterwards

aww redlyn are soulmates.... yknow, if gingers had souls

(please ignore me)

y'all saw how EJ's face *lit up* when Gina logged on? how dare you tell me he doesn't like her

ofc she's no damsel in distress, she's Gina porter, she's amazing.

so do we think she'd be the type to just glare at suspicious people? or bark at them

do they not know that Rini broke up? or is Ms Jenn just wanting Nini to suffer through her heartbreak to make her a better actress....

speaking of, why is Nini in the call? she's not in the show anymore. Unless she is, even after the rose and the song got cut, which would be so unfair to all those that auditioned properly before she even came back but whatever, she's the main character I get it 🙄

big red is a hero honestly, Nini better thank him for changing the subject like that

I can't-

i won't work you over the break-

this woman would 100% work her kids 24/7 if it was legal and idk how to feel about it.

YES GINA USE THAT CHARM

QUEEN

FRENCH QUEEN

SHE LEARNT FROM THE BEST (antoine obvi)

smh the airport lady, eavesdropping on Gina's call.

The way she was so happy to answer EJ's call, "eej"

I love them your honour.

EJ WITH PAINTED NAILS YES PLEASE

great now we need to see Gina, Ashlyn and EJ having a complete spa day and EJ getting really into it and Gina and Ashlyn take pictures of him when he's laying down in a robe with a mask and cucumbers on his eyes.

finally we get to see Gina's side of portwell

the way she considered it as flirting, this is the sign she asked for in episode 6 come onnnnn

no is Asher/jack really doing tiktok dances in an airport-

Ricky is me. I am burrito.

oh Lynne, sweetie, I'm sorry but the blonde hair is not it

is that even the same lady or-

THE BEAN

THE CHICAGO BEAN

THE BIG OLD METAL BEAN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CITY 😭

jetlag is my go to excuse for anything... I haven't travelled in 2 years.

"welcome to the Lynne and Mike gossip show. where we talk about our depressed son that we both neglect in certain ways! And now a word from our sponsor, Nord VPN..."

SO MANY CANDLES

WHAT DEMON IS LYNNE TRYING TO SUMMON IN HIS ROOM-

is Nina becoming social media obsessed EJ from season 1? AND SHE LIED ABOUT HAVING SONGS TOO PLEASE WHY ARW THEY RECYCLING THE SAME PLOT-

Gina smiling at the picture of her family on Instagram makes me so happy, idek why.

EJ's nails are so pretty, we needed to see it more (unless he had it on for the rest of the episode and I just.... didn't notice🧍🏽‍♀️)

oh not the tiktok kid✋

yes ma'am end this strange mans whole tiktok career

sir take a hint and leave

GINA NO DONT SAY YOUR LAST NAME HE COULD BE A HUMAN TRAFFICKER

Ricky, walking in style✨

weird kid, ok then Lynne, can't you see he's this close to the edge?

not all your fault baby Ricky, Nini sucks a bit more

RICKY YOU DIDN'T COME DOWN HARD ON THE SONG-

YOU ASKED WHAT IT WAS ABOUT AND SHE SHUT YOU DOWN-

PLEASE DO NOT BLAME YOURSELF

ok but the deleting comment thing was very bad

still don't know if I like Jack honestly

hmmm so Nini's calling herself Nini instead of Nina in her little egg seat, while trying to write a song without inspiration.... Nini, honey, Ricky was your muse, he inspired you to write all those songs, even if it wasn't good for the relationship.

that doesn't mean you gotta get back with him, or that you can't write a song that not about him butttt it'll take some time

the rainbow sticker in her box and her rainbow shirt-

anyways wbk she's not totally straight

Jack are you a criminal?

quick, Gina, check his ankle for a tracker

THE YES AND PRACTICE STRIKES AGAIN

the way Gina wasn't into it in episode 6 but she's used the technique twice now

stole her grandma's Pomeranian-

Jack where the hell did you pull that out from-

the fake crying killed me, that looks like so much fun though

anyone wanna raid a first class lounge with me?

wait so is jack not gonna go in with her?

wouldn't he go in too? help look for the credit card? SO CONFUSED

the first class lounge guy was so into the drama though, watch his face when they start arguing 😭

sorry to break this to you Kourtney, but you haven't even blocked the second act yet soooo...

take that as you will

I love how all of them are totally dissing the dance off

that's the most realistic part of this show tbh

shouldn't Nini have asked how she knew....since the start? why is the fact that her best friend has knowledge of a North high secret now dawning on her...

Howie is sweet honestly, at least he's trying to help. but I stand with Kourtney, don't take him back just because he sang an amazing song, and is giving you a heads up on what's gonna happen...

KOURTNEY IS ME TRYING TO LEAVE AN ONLINE CLASS

I hate school

ooo Nini's writing a song about bad internet connection 🤩🤩🤩

I never lie, except when I do-

son that is the creepiest thing you could say to a stranger that you've been "helping"

2 truths and a lie👀

he's an Ariana fan 100%

called it.

OLDER BROTHER-

WHAT-

free spirit? damn so brother porter was in that horse movie

so has she been kissed or not?????????

I feel like she's moved more than 15 times though so possibly

but then if she's moved so much, and before east high she never opened up to anyone, she's never been kissed then?? damn

same though Gina so let's be besties please

heartbreak president is a great song title idea, give Nini a call rn

but wait

is the no strings attached feeling thing about her telling Ricky she liked him? she thought she was moving away so she thought it'd be no strings attached???

guys I think I figured it out insert the "I've connected two dots" meme

THE DUKE SWEATSHIRT

IS THAT YOUR BOYFRIEND'S

OMG I LOVE I LOVE

NOT THAT I KNOW OF???

ma'am did you just kill me

yes you did

Lynne and Ricky have such a weird relationship

YES IT DID SUCK

TODD SUCKS

LYNNE SUCKS

yeah I get that you wanted Ricky to like Todd BUT THAT WASN'T THE TIME

right so we already know that Ricky was so desperate to keep Nini cuz he didn't want to be like his parents, and now Lynne's talking about this-

Richard needs a long hug

yes Lynne, it is your fault. thank you for finally admitting it.

YES DYE YOUR HAIR

BLOND HIGHLIGHTS RICKY WILL RISE AGAIN

"sometimes the best, last thing you can do for someone you love, is let them go."

gotta admit I teared up at that point

not me thinking big red was calling ms Jenn cupcake for a hot second-

Carlos please omg, you're at the "beach" and they're leaving for the pool?

also, why not just do the call from the hotel room please omg

"don't ask me"

"Carlos"

OMG WHAT HAPPENED

big red wants the tea

O M G

SEB IS JEALOUS

JEALOUS SEBBY IS MY FAVOURITE THING IDC

I'm surprised ms Jenn knew how to give Nini permission to screenshare tbh

So lily's been stalking the East high kids and spending time editing this video while she's supposedly in an immersion trip.... right

EJ and Ashlyn's picture is so chaotic, what even is happening there

"slacking off" bestie its spring break, obviously they're confident enough that they'll get it done in time so why not focus on your own musical.

jealous seb = sassy seb

please what if those guys Carlos is posing with are his cousins or something and that's why he's so confused about Seb

6 YEAR OLD EJ I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM

Nini saying she's obsessed with her ex, that's not weird at all 👍

I can just tell Matt had a blast harassing Julia with those puppets.

Jack please dont be like that, "yet"

chances are you'll never see eachother again 🥰

(honestly sometimes I really miss those friends I made on trips and stuff when we'd spend the day or week together, only to never see them again....those were the good days though)

Ashlyn and Nini should write more songs..... something better than this one at least

Nini: "im good"

cue the Tia Mowry (please I can't spell) crying gif

oh I forgot Ricky was in the show for a hot second

1. where did Gina get to film this without people being around

2. did she just... randomly change her clothes???

ok but the transition between Carlos and EJ

*chefs kiss*

now everyone shut up, EJ's singing

oh i think I'm pregnant

HIS MUSCLES

YES KOURTNEY

I love how big red and Kourtney went from being "the best friends™" to the couple in season 1, to kinda close themselves and having their own plots

sebby makes me so happy

props to biggies editing skills honestly

PORTWELL BEING SIDE TO SIDE I CANT

AND SEBLOS OMG

big red lives for the drama

"wow" so true Ricky

no he is not cute, stop it

"holding" ok that's kinda cute

yeah EJ's a lucky guy😌

jokes aside, it's not that hard to exchange numbers-

keep in touch if you want

ok I really like Jack now

if he comes back in season 3, maybe have him be LGBTQ+ ?

like the only out characters they have rn are Seb and Carlos and they're like the sterotypes, yk?

I'd love to see jack kinda break the mold

Ricky's breaking my heart

that song just hurts

the only thing

now I don't hate Lynne????????

HOW DARE THEY WRITE IN A PROPER REDEMPTION ARC FOR HER

UGH IM SUPPOSED TO HATE HER FOREVER

I mean I don't live her now but she's good

but honestly

"mom can I show you something"

IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL

THE PICTURE AND EVERYTHING OMG

I'm sobbing please help

Gina saying she's just waiting for the right guy and then EJ coming to the airport to pick her up late at night without her asking, offering to bring her back in the morning so she won't have to Uber, bringing her a granola bar (WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT SHE FORGOT TO PACK) and without expecting anything in return???

ms ma'am you've got a keeper right there

her smile at the end was so heartwarming I really can't.

this episode was great.

it felt really short but I liked it, great character development for Ricky, Lynne and Gina.

Cant wait for next episode to see more of EJ being the ideal boyfriend /hj

[datawyrms]

Ectober Day 3: Mutant

heads up for some mild body horror today. And AO3 crosspostin!

Phantom was a constant, frustrating presence. Sam could feel the demon when it chose to lurk closer to her instead of keeping after Tucker, a low whining sound that settled at the back of her jaw and refused to leave. It made it hard to focus on schoolwork, let alone figuring out how to deal with the monster that literally stole half of her soul. She might have enjoyed strange tomes and tales of demons, but she never really thought they actually existed. Half remembered facts and possibilities could make things worse, and the awful hum had her doubting a large portion of what she remembered.

It might be less annoying if Tucker had to suffer this toothache in her brain too, but apparently he didn’t hear the creature that had wrapped itself around them- to them, really. Not unless it spoke. Well, it was more her fault than his. Maybe it was just punishing her for trying a silly prank on her friend that ended up being more real than it should have.

“Hey. You really don’t like that blonde guy in the jacket, huh.”

Great. Think of the devil and it pipes up. “I thought I told you not to talk to me”

“You might have. You don’t like em though, right? How he shoves the smaller kids around and no one cares. Or is it the girl you don’t like, since he’s showing off for her? While she doesn’t even tell him off for picking on weaklings?” The demon’s words invaded her skull, effectively drowning out anything her teacher was saying, barely able to keep a grip on her own train of thought.

Just ignore the thing talking right in your head. Was the class over yet? Tucker being around felt like it helped, a little. Distracted the presence that she couldn’t completely ignore. Her notebook remains completely blank, unable to even distractedly doodle in the margins with the combined forces of the headache and demonic chattering.

“I could give him that telling off, you know. Just a little thing. They’ll never know it was you. It wouldn’t even hurt him.”

The only upside was no matter how quietly she muttered, she had a feeling Phantom could hear just fine. “I’m not setting a demon on Dash. Just give up already.”

“So letting him keep hurting others is better? It could just be an illusion, a temporary little chastising! It’s what I’m good at.”

Sam did not appreciate the fact Phantom apparently was getting better at the whole goading thing, even if it had not even been a full day. She had seen how her and Tucker’s shadow would sometimes linger, but she hadn’t really considered why the demon had been doing that. To watch people? To learn about targets it wanted to attack? She might not be a huge fan of Paulina and her clique, but she didn’t want some monster devouring them. Or whatever Phantom wanted to do to them, it was frustratingly vague about what it even did. All she knew is it could look like a shadow, make things cold, and mimic a human before pulling out too long claws. She just needed time to actually look at the book they used, learn what a demon actually was, seeing as Phantom would keep existing no matter how much she used to believe they didn’t. Was messing with her head something it could do to other people too? Or was that just a special ‘gift’ for herself and Tucker?

“Or maybe you do like watching the others suffer, at least you aren’t the target anymore, right?”

Clutching at her hair did nothing but wrinkle her brow at the slight pain, the voice as loud and insidious as ever. “I don’t care, just be quiet.”

“I can do quiet.” It was snickering again as the pain in her jaw eased, her shadow looking less ominous when caught out of the corner of her eye.

Shit. A demon would be all over word semantics, wouldn’t it. Was that close enough to a ‘yes’ for it to go after Dash? Lousy cheating demon-cat-thing. She didn’t care that it looked strange to sprint out of class the moment the bell rang, she had to find Tucker and track down the demon before it did something.

Phantom moved quickly. Too quickly. Intentionally getting clear before she could call him off. Stupid of her to say anything, she warned Tucker and then just did it herself.

“Sam? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Tucker stopped looking at his PDA as his friend ran up, adjusting his glasses to look over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Opposite problem, I don’t know where it’s gotten off to.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? He’s decided to just go back where he came from for a bit?”

“Not if I might have accidentally set it on Dash.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Still not seeing the problem here.”

“Tucker!”

“What? He’s a jerk! Phantom was entertained by erasers, I don’t think he’s gonna do much to Dash.”

“Or it’s just been playing you and might kill him? It’s a demon Tucker!”

“Still kinda think he’s a cat.”

The goth groaned, grabbing her friend by the wrist as she set off down the fall. “Well then we’re herding cats.”

“Okay, okay um. If he’s after Dash I think they have practice today” he struggled to navigate his PDA with only his thumb, eyes darting to the clock and back. “They’re probably on the field by now?”

Sam picked up speed, ignoring Tucker’s cry to slow down. He could have time to collapse after there wasn’t a demon problem.

The football team was scattered on the grassy field, loud discussions just a reminder of how much the sports teams could get away with thanks to earning awards for the school. She wouldn’t dream of going near such a cringe worthy testosterone zone, certainly not without gagging, but gleaming green eyes lurking under bleachers forced her to ignore her preferences.

“See. A cat.” Tucker commented with a wheeze, pointing out the same eyes Sam had noticed. “Just get him a box or something. Probably...behave…”

Maybe they’d been fast enough? Dash didn’t look too bothered, running down the pitch. The buzzing wasn’t back, and much as she hated it, the fact it wasn’t gave her the unpleasant suspicion the demon was still busy imposing on someone else. “Try calling it back or something if you think that’ll work.”

“Don’t have to bite my head off.” Tucker rolled his eyes, trying to edge closer without attracting too much attention, apparently more wary of jocks than actual hellspawn.

Then Dash failed a catch, earning jeers and other comments. Normal, everyday macho bull. The stumbling after a heavy shoulder check was not.

“Woah! I get you too hard there Dash?” Kwan had his head half down in apology, reaching out to steady their star quarterback.

“Just tripped over a stupid rock or something, forget it.” Dash seemed to shrug it off, unaware of how his shadow twisted, ankles at a horrid misshapen angle. He went down hard after taking a step, yelping from apparently nothing but his own careless step.

“He didn’t actually break his ankles, did he?” Tucker said with a dry swallow, caution thrown to the wind.

“He looks okay?” Not that it meant much. “Phantom’s just a shadow right now, isn’t he?”

“W-What’s going on?” Dash sounded wrong, sputtering and afraid instead of the cocky confidence he normally had.

Kwan was already bending down to help him out, but jerked back. “Dash, what happened to your hand?”

“I don’t know!”

He took another step back, half covering his face. “It looks contagious man- hey coach!”

Sam couldn’t blame him- Dash’s hand looked twisted and grey even from this distance, and it only seemed to get worse, more withered and ashen every time he moved, a foul pallor crawling up his skin in a grotesque creeping advance. He was just wasting away while his friends watched, as he teared up in panic but seemed unable to get back to his feet- not that he would be able to get away from his own body weakening and fading.

“Phantom, get over here and stop that, now.” The words felt heavy in her mouth, admitting that any of this was her fault triggered an awful pain in her heart. “Stop tormenting him.”

“Holy shit.” Tucker moved closer to Sam, looking away from the mess of terror unfolding. Not that it could keep the terrified cries from reaching his ears.

“He’s not even bone yet, such a baby.” His voice came from behind them, the teenager-looking monster taking half a step back as Sam tried to slug him. “Hey, I just did what you wanted!” His green eyes were almost as mocking as the hint of fangs showing in his grin. “Thanks for letting me have my own body though.”

“Nuh uh, Sam wouldn’t want you to kill someone! Not even Dash.” Tucker tried to come to her defense. “You did that on your own.”

“I didn’t kill him. It’s illusion. A fake. Just an hour feeling like his helpless victims.” Phantom snorted, pushing some of his white hair clear of his face. “It’s like that ‘karma’ stuff you guys like so much, but actually effective. Mutate his worldview a little.”

It took a moment to realize the demon was speaking out loud, and not in her head now that he was masquerading as an incredibly weird looking human again. “I don’t care, stop it now.”

“Okay, okay. You’re such a killjoy Sam.” He cracked his knuckles. “One boring big guy back to seeing reality. Happy?”

The panicked chatter had fewer screams, but still plenty of confusion. She only lingered a moment to make sure Dash wasn’t a mockery of a slowly decaying corpse before dragging Tucker and the monster away before there could be any new trouble.

[dainty-fingertips]

hail 2 u! ||polnareff x fem! reader

HEY HI so im just kinda dumping stuff from google docs onto here to kind of establish myself so anyway heres my french bb wjhged;; also minor spoilers if you haven’t finished stardust crusaders!!

word count: 2449

summary: you and polnareff were teamed by dio himself and saved by jotaro in hong kong. polnareff is hit with a wave of guilt as you and the crusaders reach what joseph has said to be avdol’s father’s island. you follow him out onto the beach to try and comfort him, and while it seems to work, the enemy stand hiding nearby inside an old middle-eastern kerosene lamp has no intention of giving you both time alone. that is, until the frenchman makes a certain wish.

trigger warnings: none :)

||

          He sat down on the chopped stump of a palm tree, his head in the palm of his hand. She had followed after him when he walked away, she knew he wouldn’t stop blaming himself for the death of Avdol. She approached him from behind with a worried look on her face. “Polnareff…” She said, softly. He turned around. “Oh, [y,n].” He said. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Mr Joestar and the others?” She stayed silent. She calmly walked toward the Frenchman and rested on a large rock to his right. “I couldn’t just let you go on your own.” She muttered, her face growing warm. “You know what happens when you’re left by yourself, anyway.” She smiled somberly, trying to lighten the mood.

          He chuckled dryly. “Yeah, yeah.” He turned toward her a bit. Thankfully her weak attempt at humor had worked, as his expression seemed less dull. The wind picked up a bit, causing the afternoon sun to beam down a bit more harshly on the beach. He turned his head, and she followed suit. He squinted his eyes. “Hey, is that…?” She tilted her head. “It looks like…” He stood up and approached the shiny object, a dull gold hue peppering through a barnacle clad shell. She raised herself off of the rock and took a few steps forward, glancing around his side. “It’s pretty.” He said, his eyebrows raised.

          He picked it up and examined it. “I wonder if it came from a shipwreck. Look at all of those barnacles.” She added, moving around and picking at it with her fingernails. “Hey, hey! Careful! You might scratch the gold underneath!” He said, holding it above his head and significantly out of her reach. “H-Hey! No fair, Pol!” She cried with furrowed eyebrows. He laughed at her futile attempts. “Yeah, right!” The two of them went through a solid minute of teasing, insulting, jumping, and punching (Three of those four were brought upon by [y,n], that is), it seemed that the strange object had been rubbing around in his hand quite a bit.

          A sudden burst of blinding light beamed out through what was left of the barnacles and caused Polnareff and [y,n] both to panic, and him to drop it. They both stepped back, [y,n] opposite to him. An odd smoke rose out of the tip of what was now seen to be a kerosene lamp of sorts; similar to the one from Aladdin. Though, the smoke disappeared just as quickly as it had come, causing the two of them to look around confused. The light and smoke both were gone, but the lamp remained. Polnareff sighed after a moment. “Man! That was weird. Must’ve been pressurized air from inside.” He said, a hand on his forehead. [y,n] nodded looking to the left. “Would’ve been cooler if there were a genie, but, you’re right. Probably just gas.”

          When she looked back, however, she panicked and pointed behind him. “P-Polnareff, look out! A Stand!” He jumped, his eyes widening. He took long strides toward her and whipped his head around. “What the hell?!” A peculiar looking Stand, one which appeared to be more industrial than some of the previous that the group had encountered. “Three wishes!” The Stand called, holding up an arm-like appendage; though it had only three fingers on each hand. “I will grant you three wishes! Whatever you wish is my command, master!” The Stand was gigantic, standing a solid 10 feet tall. “My name is Cameo. Thank you for letting me out of my lamp.” [y,n] glanced around, sweat sliding down her cheek. “Uhh, n-no problem.”

          Though, it didn’t seem that Polnareff was ready to initiate conversation with the entity. “Another Stand user! [y,n], back me up!” She looked at him and nodded her head. Blossom Samurai and Silver Chariot, both sword wielding Stands, got into a sort of formation, with Samurai behind Chariot. They battered Cameo with their swords, but they barely did any damage. Chariots rapier was too weak, and Blossom’s attacks were only a mere second too slow causing Cameo to dodge with ease. “Son of a…” Breathed them both in unison. “You’re pretty strong!” Said Polnareff. “Your user must be close. Where is he?” Cameo crossed its arms. “Again, I’m here only to grant wishes. Do you want your first wish to be a lame one like that?” He groaned.

          Polnareff granted. “Yeah, yeah, what is it with you and wishes, huh? Are you saying you can make me rich right now?” Cameo’s voice was unwavering. “Is that your first wish?” Polnareff relaxed a small bit, but was still on edge. “You know what? Sure, dumbo. Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.” Cameo’s arms uncrossed. [y,n] squinted. “Fine, then. Your wish shall be granted.” The two of them raised their eyebrows. “Huh?” Mumbled [y,n]. Cameo put its arms in an odd position, like a puppeteer would do, and raised its voice. “Hail 2 U!” 

          It immediately disappeared, causing them to blink a few times and watch the leftover smoke dissipate. Polnareff reached down and pulled the half buried lamp from the sand. Night had nearly fallen by now, but it was still visible. “What was all that about?” Polnareff asked in a confused tone. He sighed. “So…” she muttered. “What was that thing? Was it a Stand, or wasn’t it?” He shrugged. “If it is, what a weird Stand to send after someone.” He noted with a chuckle. She nodded her head. Damn these Stand users; she just wanted a chance to be with Polnareff. She excused the thought from her head with a bite of her lip. “Do you think maybe it’s got something to do with Avdol’s dad?” He shrugged his shoulders, the sunlight caressing his face in a way that would make anyone melt. 

          Her face got hot again. This stupid Frenchman has no idea what he’s doing, sending soft gazes her way. Every time he laughed, she felt like melting butter. She couldn’t help but look away from him with a coy grin. Polnareff chuckled. “Hey, what’s that look for? Come on, you don’t have to force yourself to look away. I know you think I’m hot.” He teased nonchalantly. She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Hah! As if, stupid.” She sent him a playful grin and stuck her tongue out. She was really hoping he didn’t actually know.

          It was then in that moment, both of them smiling goofily at each other, that a noise was heard. “Hey, what was that?” He asked, turning around. “Sounded like metal.” She said, walking in the direction of the noise. It was near; maybe just in the grass 6 feet away. Polnareff followed suit, and lo and behold. “W-Whoa!” She cried, leaning in. “No way!” He yelled afterward. The two of them crowded around what appeared to be a half buried chest of doubloons, jewelry, and bejeweled goldware. “T-That’s real buried treasure!” He called, scooping a few coins out. “But how?” She asked, tuning her fingers through it. “Hell if I know! But this is all mine!” He laughed chaotically. 

          “You little—! I helped you find this, I get half! 50/50!” He snorted. “As if, stupid!” He retorted, mocking her previous statement. “Ooooh, I’m gonna kick your--!” Directly before she went for his money, Cameo’s booming voice echoed from above. “Now, what is your second wish? I shall grant it.” The two of them shot their gazes up to the Stand. Polnareff freaked and dropped the coins, to which [y,n] then picked up and stuffed in her pocket. “Y-You! Why are you doing this?! Whatever you have up your sleeve, I’m not falling for it!” He yelled up at the genie, perched in a palm tree. “I am keeping the gold though.” He added shortly after.

          Cameo stayed silent for a moment. The only sound that could be heard was the wind blowing and the ocean rocking. “Is the answer to that question your second wish? As thanks for my freedom, I’ll give you anything,  including such a stupid answer.” [y,n] huffed and nudged Polnareff. He looked down at her and his expression softened. “F-Fine, then.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I want to be a comic artist!” He exclaimed. The answer threw [y,n] for a loop completely. A comic artist? She had never known he was interested in art. In fact, the only interest he’d shown was when he’d watch her draw.

          “I’ve always wanted to be one! And not just some starving artist, either! I want to be more popular than Walt Disney!” She furrowed her eyebrows with a stunned expression. “Huh?” She whispered. “Pol, I don’t think—“ he cut her off. “I want to create Polnareff Land!” He stood with his arms out in a comically dramatic stance, [y,n] in a stunned (and slightly embarrassed) silence at his side. “... Is this your wish?” Polnareff lowered his arms. “Actually, no, wait,” Oh thank God. She wiped metaphorical sweat from her forehead. Maybe he’d think of something more rational.

          “I want a girlfriend!”

          The phrase made her freeze in place. Her eyes were wide and her throat closed. He wanted a girlfriend, did he? He really must have just thought of her as a friend, then. She kept her mouth shut and kept her eyes on Cameo. What was she supposed to say to that? The words echoed in her mind. She wanted to love him like that so badly, but Polnareff seemed to feel otherwise. “Love is better than money or fame.” He said with a grin. At least he was sincere about that, she could tell. “She’s got to be really cute. I want a girl who’s my perfect match! Our pinkies entwined with the red string of love!” He held up his right pinkie finger for emphasis. 

          Polnareff had never made her feel so conflicted before. Her insecurities began to softly gnaw at her. Was she not cute enough? She felt like they were perfect for each other. She’d liked him since Hong Kong. Was this really happening? She simply kept her gaze on Cameo. She stared at it. What was it going to do? She thought genies couldn’t make people fall in love. “You want me to find the perfect match for you?” It asked him. “Yeah! Try that, bastard!” Cameo sat still for a moment. As she was staring, she noticed it turn its head slightly in her direction. It was looking at her.

          She inhaled sharply. What was it doing? Cameo was completely silent for several seconds until it finally decided to pipe up. “Very well.” It turned its head back to Polnareff slowly. “Hail 2 U!” The Stand once again dissolved into smoke. Polnareff looked at his finger expectantly, and sure enough, there it was. She saw it too. The red string of fate. He grinned. “Oh, wow! I finally get to have my perfect girl!” He beamed. She stayed silent. He looked down at her curiously. “Hey, you okay? You’d usually have made fun of me or something by now.” She looked ahead and nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. I’m happy for you, man.” Though she never once looked at him. Polnareff sighed. “Thanks, I’m glad too! Let’s see, where does it lead?” He held the string and noticed it went to his right. He looked in growing surprise to see [y,n] standing there, staring into the ocean with the most flat look he’d seen her sport, and a growing lump in her throat. Was she about to cry?

          He wasn’t really sure what prompted him to do it. What made him want to look down first before pressing her on how she felt. Though he was sure glad he did; in fact, it was arguably the best decision he made during that 50 day trip. If he hadn’t taken a mere half second to glance down below her waist, Polnareff wouldn’t have caught the crimson string tied around her finger until a much later, possibly much more awkward time during their interaction. He felt his heart swell inside of his chest, sheer ecstasy causing blood to rush to his cheeks and make his face burn as if he himself were a bonfire of sheer emotion.

          “H-Hey…” he began, reaching out with a shaky left hand. “Hm?” She looked over. She hoped the darkness of night would hide the tear that had dropped from her right eye and down her cheek. “[y,n], you, uh… your hand.” She slowly held up her left hand and stared in shock at the string around her pinkie. “That’s— that’s the-“ she quickly turned to look at his hand. Sure enough, the two were bound. Polnareff soon grew a stupid grin. “Well, well. Look at that.” The utter euphoria she experienced in that moment went unmatched with anything else she’d ever felt. “We-“ she choked back another sob as more tears fell. She covered her mouth and shut her eyes. 

          Polnareff freaked out. “H-Hey!! You okay? [y,n], c’mon! I’m not that bad!” He joked. “You idiot!” She called, throwing her arms around him. “You scared me!” She heaved into his shoulder. “I thought- I thought you didn’t—“ she shakily said. He chuckled. “Hey, hey! Calm down! If you’re wondering if I didn’t like you, you’re not just wrong. You’re stupid.” He grinned softly. She giggled like a little kid on Christmas. “I was so afraid when you said you wanted a girlfriend.” She said, pulling away. Polnareff put his arms around her waist. 

          “I thought I wasn’t good enough.” She laughed awkwardly. “I only said it because I thought you didn’t like me.” She noticed a glimmer in Polnareff’s eye; he was crying too. “O-Oh, Pol, you-“ before she could say another word he pressed his full lips against hers in a brief kiss. “Shut up.” He laughed, tears smeared on her face. She snorted and wiped his cheek. “I’ve liked you for so long. Ever since Hong Kong.” He scoffed playfully. “Ever since Dio paired us, you little snail. Did you just ignore all my little attempts to go on dates with you?” She giggled. “I didn’t wanna take it the wrong way. You never actually asked, idiot.” 

“Well, how about this.” He cleared his throat and laughed again. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” She nodded with a dumb grin. “Yes, yes, of course, dumbass.” She leaned up for a kiss and he returned the gesture. “Let’s beat the hell outta this guy and regroup, okay?” He smiled. “My pleasure.”

[apenapaperandadoofus]

LISTEN WHY HAS NO ONE IN THE HMC FANDOM TALKED ABOUT THIS??

HMC X PRINCESS AND THE FROG?!

DO I EVEN NEED TO EXPLAIN?!

SOPHIE AS TIANA OH MY GOSH AND HOWL AS NAVEEN?! THEY'RE SO PERFECT?!

Like, oh my gosh you can't tell me this isn't them!!! (Note I'm writing all this from memory so it might not be that accurate lol)

*Party-pooper eHEM" Howl muttered in his arm while he 'coughed.'

Sophie rolled her eyes and kept trying to make her way through the thick woods, moving branches from her way. The sooner she got to this...Mrs. Pentstemmon (i had a seizure and a half writing this and honestly at this point I'm just gonna leave it like that JAJSJSBS) the sooner they could get rid of the curse and Sophie could go back and save her sister from....whoever that was she danced with at Mrs. Fairfax's ball.

"aH stickinthemud" Howl said once again.

Alright, now she's had it. Sophie quickly turned around and pointed her stick at him, making Howl raise both is hands and give her a dazzling smirk.

"Alright now listen here, this 'stick in the mud' has been stuck working in the same place selling hats for her whole life while making sure her sisters are able to fulfill their destinies without any problem, so please forgive me for not weeping at your tale, because while I was working myself to death you were 'busy' in your- your ivory castle chasing poor girls who's hearts you would later eat!"

"....it was polished marble actually..." Howl murmured, making a now very annoyed Sophie grunt in rage and quickly walk as far away from him as she could.

...

OR OR!!!

(IMAGINE WHEN THEY'RE DOING THE WHOLE EVANGELINE SCENE!!! I don't really know if it should be Calcifer singing it tho since y'know, he's a star, Evangeline's a star, so it kinda makes sense??? And then while he's singing Howl tries to grab Sophie's hand for them to dance, but she quickly pulls away.

"I don't know how to dance... I've never done it before..."

Howl thinks she looks like the first time he met her, cowering against that small shop entrance. This time though, he wasn't going to let her slip away so easily. He slowly grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, making her yelp in surprise. He places her hands on his shoulders and smirks.

"If I can cook, you can dance." He gently pulls her towards him and they start dancing, Sophie letting out small gasps and almost falling every second.

"It'd be more enjoyable if you didn't step on my foot so much Mrs. Two-Left-Feet." He joked, and Sophie grunted, a blush tinting her cheeks.

"I told you I couldn't dance! If your feet end up suffering then it's your fault, and your fault alone, you knew I wasn't good at this."

"Yes, blame me for this! It's always my fault isn't it?" He glared at her, but then softened up again. "Besides, you aren't doing that bad of a job. You're a quick learner, and you know the steps, you just have to learn how to stop being more clumsy, even if that is part of your charm for some strange reason." He teased her once more, and he let out a cry as he felt his poor foot get stomped on again.

"Alright now that one was on purpose." He winced, and was about to have a dig at her once more, before he looked at her face.

She was smiling.

He felt his knees buckle, almost falling to the ground and into the lake besides them.

What in the world had this woman done to him?

He felt his body lean all his weight on Sophie, almost as if he was a puppet who's strings just got cut off.

Sophie was definitely taken aback by that, but she only rolled her eyes and sighed, trying to ack exasperated.

"Oh you silly, silly man." She smiled and bravely hugged him and pulled him closer, although she was sure it was as if another force had gently pushed him towards him. She was only helping him not fall off to the lake....right?

It was a bit strange though, how her cheeks were flushing and her stomach doing spins round and around inside her body.

It must be because it's chilly tonight and I left my shawl with Michael....and my stomach must be acting weird from all this spinning and dancing about, yes that must be it, she thought.

....

AND IMMA JUST LEAVE IT HERE BC I AM ACTUALLY REALLY TIRED AND TOMORROW I GOTTA STUDY SOOO

BUT I MEAN ITS CUTE RIGHT?? RIGHT?? I tried to write a bit more in DWJs style but I'm not a FRIGGEN genius like her so I probably butchered it ajsjsjs this also is super raw and in like...the early stages maybe? Idk if I should write a small fan fic about it, who knows.

I also don't know what the curse should be...

I'm between the original curses or them both being frogs ajsjsjs (wouldn't that be a bit funny thoo, just Howl panicking because OH GOD IM ALL S L I M Y AND GROSS!! NOT ONLY THAT, I AM GREEN, CALCIFER, GREEN! SOMEONE PLEASE END MY SUFFERING, I SEE NO POINT IN LIVING ANYMORE!!!"

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Do-S Kyuuketsu VERSUS Ⅱ Vol.6 Yuma VS Azusa [TRACK 5]

Original title: レゾンデートル

Source: Diabolik Lovers VERSUS II Vol. 6 Yuma VS Azusa [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Tatsuhisa Suzuki & Kishio Daisuke

Translator’s note: I think I have said this before when translating his Bloody Bouquet CD, but Yuma gives the best pep talks. Out of all the DL characters, he really seems the most down-to-earth and reasonable when it comes to both accepting and expressing his emotions. All of the others are conflicted or too stubborn to admit how they truly feel, but Yuma has very little filters and that’s honestly what I appreciate about him. It makes for such a nice change of pace.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 ll Track 6

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 5: Raison D’être

*CRASH*

Yuma enters the room.

Yuma: ...That damn door finally opened up. Listen up...Unlike ya guys, I can’t enter this room through that narrow well. ‘Cause of that, it took me a while to bust inside of here.

Azusa: Yuma...I thought you went to see Ruki? 

Yuma: I got kinda worried. That maybe you’d totally lose your mind from the lunar eclipse and that Sow over there wouldn’t make it out alive. 

*Rustle*

Yuma: ーー And sure enough. Who said he wouldn’t do anythin’, huh?

Azusa: ...!

Yuma walks up to you.

Yuma: Oi, everythin’ alright? I figured ya might have lost an arm or a leg, but Azusa seems to be the one injured instead. The fuck’s goin’ on?

*Rustle*

Yuma: By the way, Azusa. You’re still spoutin’ that bullshit, huh?

Azusa: What do...you mean?

Yuma: Don’t play dumb. You know, the stuff where you’d ask us to hurt ya. ...Geez, keep that kinda fucked up shit to the bare minimum already, won’t ya?

Azusa: You just don’t...understand.

Yuma: Haahn!?

Azusa: I’m different from you. I’m utterly useless...nor can I ever be of use. On top of that, I’m always...strange, as if someone has taken control of my brain. I thought that I could finally become normal thanks to the eclipse...

Yuma: That’s not true...!

Azusa: Getting hurt...is where my value lies. Right, Eve?

Yuma: Haahー!?

Azusa: That’s the only value I have in life so...Why? Yuma...Why am I jealous of you?

Yuma: Che...I don’t have a fuckin’ clue whatcha talkin’ ‘bout, mate. 

Azusa: This is strange...It makes no sense. I want to blame it all on the moon but...When you look at or are hurt by Yuma...This strong anger wells up inside of me...and my chest aches...I feel like I’m going crazy...Bearing the pain is what makes me valid. I’m well aware of this butーー This pain in particular, is hard to endure...

Yuma...! Is the little voice in my head responsible for this as well!? He makes me believe that...Eve belongs only to me. I can’t stop it. Even though I’m so utterly useless...Even though I can never become Adam...Still, Iーー

He looks over at you.

Azusa: I want to keep Eve...all for myself.

*Rustle*

Azusa: I...want you.

Yuma: Honestly, I really don’t get ya. To be blunt, you’re the type of guy I have a hard time dealin’ with. Both now and in the past. ...Anyway, don’t ya think it’s ‘bout time ya understand this? Ruki told ya as well, no? We’re brothers. While we may have different roles to fulfill in the family, there’s no hierarchy between us.

Azusa: ...

Yuma: Try and remember the time at the orphanage. Bet ya can’t forget ‘bout it even if ya wanted to? All of us received the same shit treatment. We were all equally punched and hurt.

Azusa: But...!

Yuma: No but’s or however’s! You’re the only one of us who still clings to the concept of a hierarchy...! Your current life is completely different from the one you led back when living at the wanderers’ camp! ...So gettin’ jealous...or wantin’ to hog the Sow all for yerself...is totally valid. 

Azusa: ...! Yuma...?

*Rustle*

Yuma: But ya know, she’s the one thing I can’t just hand over to ya. Desire isn’t somethin’ ya can control through reason.

Azusa: Desire...?

Yuma: It’s the same as wantin’ to eat. Ya can’t suppress it.

Azusa: But...Up till now...I’ve never thought like this...

Yuma: Is that truly so? ...Well, I’m not ya, so I can’t tell for sure whether ya felt it as strong or not, but I guess people just differ?  ーー Say...

Yuma suddenly pulls you close.

*Rustle*

Yuma: Isn’t that true? ...Well, I honestly don’t think it’s worth stressin’ yerself out over it. Don’t ya think this lil’ voice in yer head ya keep on talkin’ ‘bout...is actually just yer own feelings speakin’? 

Azusa: My...own?

Yuma: Yeah. Ya think way too much ‘bout stuff like ‘bein’ useful’ or ‘the reason behind yer existence’...In reality, there’s nothin’ wrong with ya at all. It’s normal to exist.

Ruki: Ruki and...Kou too? Do they feel the same way?

Yuma: ...Ya better not say that in their faces. You’re gonna get smacked on the head. You’re crazy ‘cause ya keep on restrainin’ yerself. Notice that already. Right here...There’s nobody who would get a kick out of hurtin’ ya...

Azusa: ...T-Then...This pain in my chest can...just stay the way it is...?

Yuma: Ya like pain, don’t ya? Just accept it. ...Besides, if it’s makin’ ya uncomfortable, then try and do somethin’ ‘bout it.

Yuma hugs you close.

*Rustle rustle*

Yuma: My bad but...Ya might have to try and steal her away from me. If ya do that, the pain might just fade away.

*Smooch*

Azusa: Oh...Steal? Can I...? Do I have the right to...?

Yuma: Idiot. That isn’t somethin’ ya need my permission for. However, she’s mine.

Azusa: You can’t...Eve...belongs to me.

Yuma: God...Ya really are stubborn after all. But it’s also fascinatin’. Makes it worth takin’ her from ya after all. Mmh...

*Smooch*

Azusa: ...I don’t think I can grow to like this pain so...I need her. 

Yuma: I see. Fine by me. Bring it on. Let’s have her decide which one of us she prefers. Of course...

*Rustle*

Yuma: ーー With these bad boys.

Yuma bites you.

Yuma: Nn...Mmh...

Azusa: You can’t, Yuma...She is...mine Eve. Come on, don’t face his way. Look at me...If you won’t, I’ll do this...

Azusa bites you as well.

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

Yuma: Nice expression you’re rockin’ there, Sow...How does it feel to have two Vampires toy with ya at the same time? Hehe...

Azusa: Haah...Eve...Does it hurt? Or does it feel good? ...I’ll make you feel even better.

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

Azusa: Mmh...

*Gulp gulp*

Yuma: Oi, oi, Azusa...With that sorta technique, you’ll only tickle her a lil’. This is what a...real bite looks like! Haahn...

*Sluuuuurp*

Yuma: ...Hahー! ...See? Seems like she feels so good, she’s at a total loss for words. Hahn...Mmh...

*Sluuuuurp*

Azusa: It’s not just about strength...Say? I know where it feels good for you...I’ll pierce you with my fangs exactly there...Haahn...

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

Azusa: Mm...

*Gulp*

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

*Sluuuuurp*

Azusa: Nn...Haah...Look this way, Eve...It feels good, doesn’t it? Let’s...kiss. Mmh...Nn...

*Smooch*

Azusa: Nn...

*Smooch*

Yuma: Borin’...For one, you’ve never been this fixated on her before, have ya? 

Azusa: ...Haah...Today is...special. However, when I think about it... I might have actually...been obsessed with her this whole time. I simply didn’t realize...but thanks to the moon, it became clear...Mmh...

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp gulp*

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

Azusa: Mmh...

*Sluuuuurp*

Yuma: Come on...Gimme some as well...Hahn...

*Sluuuuurp*

Yuma: Mmh...Nn...Ya better don’t let that guys’ words get to ya too much...Nnh...

*Sluuuuurp*

Azusa: No fair...Yuma...You can’t just hog her for yourself...

Yuma: Shut up! I don’t take orders from anyone!

Azusa: ...Eve...Do you like Yuma’s that much? However, mine are good too, you know...I mean, look...My fangs fit you so perfectly, they can give you the pain you desire at once. Haah...

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp gulp*

Yuma: Ahn? Bein’ a lil’ cheeky there, aren’t ya? 

*Sluuuuurp*

Yuma: Ah...This is bad...I said that but...Haah...It kinda sounds like I’m tryin’ to tell ya to hold yerself back, huh? That’s weird...

Azusa: I don’t care if it’s cheeky or not...I love Eve...Mmh...

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

Yuma: Che...Annoyin’...That kinda sappy stuff isn’t for me. 

*Rustle*

Yuma: I’ll use my fangs...to have her confess her feelings for me.

Azusa: I wonder who will achieve that faster?

Yuma: Sow...Say you love me...

*Rustle*

Azusa: Eve obviously loves me more...Right? You do, don’t you? Of course you do...Mmh...

*Gulp gulp*

Yuma: Ah yeah, yeah. Just tell yerself that. ...Come on, Sow. Don’t get distracted by him.

*Sluuuuurp*

The two of them continue sucking your blood.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[mieohmy]

𝖢𝗈𝗇𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖢𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌 | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖳𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗈𝗇𝗀

PAIRING: schoolnurse! lee taeyong x topstudent! reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, small angst, rivals-to-kinda-lovers!, high school au

WC: 3.9k

NOTES: mentions of injury (concussions um) slight cursing, violence, kinda bullying?

SUMMARY: being one of the top students of your school, you should’ve known getting hit in the head four times would eventually lead to a visit to the school nurse. and maybe you also should’ve known the very nurse was somehow the one person you hated? 

ღ 

The first time you got hit was an accident. Scratch that- technically all four times you got knocked in the head were an accident, and you were honestly getting worried about the amount of brain cells you were losing.

You will admit that the very first was your fault. You weren’t paying attention in gym, and the volleyball smacks you (rightfully so) in the side of the head. You’re pretty sure you just sadly crumble to the ground in surprise. Well, and a teensy amount of pain. 

Who are you kidding- a lot of pain.

A clamor of voices follow, most of them ‘are you okays?’ and ‘shoot, my bad”. Luckily, you’re able to get out mostly unscathed, and the whole thing becomes a faint memory buried in your brain somewhere. 

ღ

Until you get hit a second time. This couldn’t be a coincidence, right? It happened in the gym, again. Except you were fully paying attention. This time you were just being dumb.

You think since you were one of the top students in the school, you wouldn’t be dumb enough to stand right underneath a basketball hoop. Sadly, you were. 

Someone had gotten the ball stuck between the hoop and the board (that one annoying spot), leading to several people attempting to hit the ball out. And you standing underneath the hoop, obtaining and giving other people’s balls back to them and also attempting to get that one stupid basketball unstuck. 

Frowning, you look straight up at the hoop. “Doyoung, a little more to the left-“ And then you saw it (and maybe also heard a watch out!). The unmistakable shape of an orange circle. A firm, striped one that was definitely getting closer and closer to your face. 

You only get the chance to open your mouth before it thuds off your forehead -you’re pretty sure you hear a firm thunk!- and it bounces off into the distance. 

There’s about two seconds of silence before you groan in pain, clutching your head and hearing the oofs and questions. You insist you’re fine, still.(really, though?)

It wasn’t serious enough to get a trip to the nurse, just a sad time-out on the benches.

ღ

This time had to be the last. I mean, at least it wasn’t a ball...

But was a metal locker door any better?

It occurred a couple weeks after the last ....incident. Yuta follows you out of the classroom, walking over to where his locker was. 

As he puts his books in, you lean back on the lockers next to his, huffing in annoyance. “-I mean, why does he even care about bonus points? It was just two more, anyways!” 

Yuta looks at you, unamused. “Why do you even care about him caring?” 

“I don’t! It’s just annoying! He’s annoying!” You turn to face him, side now pressing against the locker. And just as you’re about to continue, you hear an angry groan and a locker springing open from behind. 

You never hated top lockers more than at that moment.  

The door flies open, effectively pounding the back of your head. The impact somehow hard enough to leave the locker door shaking. 

The rattling metal echoes through the hall as you grab your head in distraught. Yuta watches you with a shocked expression, and you whip around to see who the culprit was. 

You wouldn’t say you were angry, just..... irked.

And behold, an extremely apologetic looking Jungwoo. He explained, “I was just super frustrated and took it out on my locker. I swear I didn’t see you right there!!”

You blamed getting the second-highest test grade in the class on him. At that point, it really seemed like getting hit in the head was affecting you and your perfect grades. But you still refused to go to the nurse, why?  I mean, you could still function properly, so there was no need... right?

ღ

If the locker door wasn’t bad enough, the last straw that caused the whole mess was by an elbow. Specifically Johnny’s elbow, you later found out. 

He was holding something in his hands, elbows pointing out, you weren’t sure what it was exactly. How funny it was that you forgot how tall Johnny really is. So as you snuck up behind him, he quickly turns his upper body around. 

Which meant his sharp elbow came in contact with your head. 

It wasn’t even that hard but apparently hard enough to cause you to blackout. (And perhaps the three previous times didn’t quite help either. )

When you finally come about, you see a crowd hovered over you, concerned and some panicking. And that’s how you figured you probably passed out in the middle of the gym. 

No lie, you felt horrible. Like someone who just woke up from a hangover. Apparently, you were only out for a couple of seconds, but people still assisted you up, insisting you needed help. 

So why were you still surprised to find out you couldn’t name the months of the year in order?

“Y/n-no, October comes after September.” 

Huffing, you allow Johnny to drag you to the nurse's office. “Whatever, what does this have to do with concussions, again??”

“You’re literally one of the top two students in the school, and you can’t name the months of the year in order? Spells it right out for me.”

As he opens the door, you both clumsily shuffle in, looking for the nurse. 

...ha. That’s funny. Nudging Johnny, you whisper not so loudly. “I know I may have a concussion, but does the nurse kinda look like freakin’ taeyong or- ?”

You feel two pairs of eyes on you. Johnny ignores you, setting you down in a chair. “Hey, Taeyong. Got someone special for you.” 

You shoot him an incredulous look. “Lee Taeyong? The school nurse? Pffft. Like he could ever take care of others.” 

A voice cuts in. “Johnny, why did you bring them here?” You turn and immediately squint. Is that really him? 

It’s like he reads your mind, stating, “Yes, it’s me y/n. Not sure why you’re here, but it explains all your issues I guess.” 

Slowly raising a finger to point at him, you narrow your eyes. “I have no issues, thank you very much.” 

Standing up, you’re about to walk out when you stumble, and Taeyong catches you. 

His sharp eyes glare down at you, causing you to scrunch your face up in disgust. “Let go of me.” 

Taeyong rolls his eyes, not so softly placing you onto the chair. “Thanks, Johnny, I’ll take it from here.”

Before he leaves, you plead at him with wide eyes, ones screaming don’t leave me here with this ******. 

He grins and leaves anyway, and so you’re forced to be stuck alone in a room with taeyong.

Lee Taeyong, one of the top students of the school and apparently the school nurse too? Was he even qualified??? The top student next to you, that is. It was always the two of you competing. To be number one. Always comparing grades and test scores.

It was strange, at first. When you met him, you actually liked him. I mean, with his good looks and seeming perfect personality and all. Then people started to notice you and your high grades, comparing it with his. 

You didn’t really care about it, but apparently, Taeyong did. That started the bickers, then the arguments and resentment. 

And it led to what you two were now. Rivals competing for the top spot. 

“-I’m guessing you hit your head??”

You blink. “Eh?” 

“Huh, is it that bad?” he mutters. “Does your head hurt?” 

You shrug. “Well, Johnny said I probably have a concussion but I feel okay?” What a lie.

“Well then why are you here?” he deadpans. 

You roll your eyes. “Can you just like, do your job and not talk back for once? Just make sure I’m okay or whatever..”

He sighs, moving to stand in front of you. You furrow your eyebrows. “What are you doing?” Taeyong doesn’t say anything, instead suddenly grabbing your face with his hands. His hands were surprisingly warm, touch soft.

Panicking, you attempt to remove his hands, but his glare forces you to freeze. “Stop moving.” 

Then he pulls out a black object.  Oh, it’s a.... flashlight? “Don’t look straight into it,” he says quietly. 

The bright light blinds you at first, but after adjusting, your eyes focus on the only thing in your field of vision.  Him.

And for some reason, you take to chance to just... look at taeyong. His eyes are a deep, warm brown, focused on your face and much different from the usual dirty looks he would send your way. 

Of course, he was extremely handsome, but you would never say or admit that. You felt.... warm, the way his face was so close to yours-closer than it had ever been. there were no insults, just you and him. 

The light abruptly turns off with a click. And for some reason, you don’t move. Taeyong doesn’t either. His eyes make contact with yours. It was weird how the first thought that came into your head was that his eyes were really pretty. Too pretty.

He blinks. “I think you should be okay, just get some rest for the next couple of days or whatever. Don’t strain yourself too much. And no gym for the rest of the week either.” 

You slowly nod, making your way out of technically his office. After getting a considerable distance away, you take a moment to just think. It was different. He was different. Different from the usual snarky remarks and gloating. Nurse Taeyong, you almost laugh. 

Immediately straightening up, you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Tch. What were you thinking? You still couldn’t believe taeyong was the actual school nurse. Seriously, an annoying student like him? The school couldn’t even get a real one? And not to mention his fangirls. They probably came to visit him every day, taking over the whole place. 

You felt jealous. The fact that he took care of students every day and still was able to maintain his amazing grades. But even worse, you also felt admiration. Or at least you thought so, a tiny feeling blooming in your stomach. 

ღ

The topic of him comes up again one day at lunch. You were sitting at lunch with Ten and Yuta when the thought pops into your head.

“Hey, did you guys know that taeyong was the school nurse?” 

They both nod. You scoff. “Am I the only one who didn’t know?” Ten shoots you a look. “Maybe if you weren’t too busy flirting with him you would know.”

“I do not! He’s the one who likes to constantly compare our grades, and I just can’t let him win.” Yuta joins in. “Seriously y/n, you talk about him a lot. No matter if you say you hate him, it’s like you two are obsessed with each other.”

Shaking your head, you say, “No... I won’t ever like lee taeyong.” You miss the look Yuta and Ten share. 

ღ

You got detention. With said person. Maybe it was your fault. Or maybe it was his.

I mean, if you were called up to solve a problem and he kept making dumb remarks while you were writing, was it that unreasonable of you to call him a very school inappropriate name?

He sighs next to you, and you glare at him. “Sigh one more time and the files aren’t the only things that are getting shredded.” He scoffs. “What can you even do? You can’t even solve a simple calculus problem.” 

A wave of something intense, you can’t tell what it is, flows through you, and you angrily grab his collar, face inches from yours.

You’re not sure what it was, maybe hormones, who knows?, that caused you to simply say, “Well, I can do this,” and smash your lips onto his. 

He’s shocked at first, frozen, but surprisingly melts into it.

And just as he brings you closer, you break the kiss. You stare at each other for a couple of seconds before you abruptly turn and walk out, leaving him to do the rest of the work.

The next day, week, he actually doesn’t bring it up. The kiss, or you leaving him behind. You’re not even sure why you did it.

But things definitely changed. The looks he would send you and the comments. You wouldn’t say they got worse, actually the opposite. His comments were less harsh-just as frequent- but there was something else, hidden deeper, whenever you would meet his eyes.

ღ

You might’ve jammed your finger on a basketball. But you didn’t want to admit it(more like you were too lazy to do anything about it). Or maybe you were just too stubborn and didn’t want to go to the nurse. But it constantly bothered you throughout the whole day, so you went anyway. For some reason, you were nervous, thinking you were gonna have to face taeyong again. 

As quiet as possible, you twist the door open, creeping inside. Surprisingly, it’s empty. Frowning, you look around. There’s no one here?

You think you feel disappointed? but you laugh, instead just brushing it off. Muttering, you turn around to leave when you notice Taeyong. Standing in the doorway, looking confusedly at you. “Why are you here again?” 

Awkwardly coughing, you mumble, “I jammed my finger or something, I don’t know... C-Can you check it?” 

He sighs, gently taking your hand and leading you over to the bench. You watch as he examines it, making a small noise of pain when he touches it. He looks up, “what did you do?” 

You glance away sheepishly, “...basketball??” “Well, you probably sprained it. I’ll tape it. Does it hurt?” Slowly, you nod. 

As he deftly wraps your finger, you stare at him. His eyes, nose, lips. And after he looks up, an irritating knowing expression on his face, he still holds onto your hand. “Miss smarty pants finally stopped talking, huh?”

You blink. “-what? Uh,, I’m going... Thanks, I guess,” you barely finish your sentence. Slipping your hand away from his grip, he watches as you quickly whisk out from the office. 

ღ

It wasn’t even a week later. Your next visit. Except girls were visiting him- you could tell they obviously didn’t have a reason for going. That was a lie, their reason was him. Trying to flirt their way in, you thought with a tsk! Their heads turn to look at you, taeyong included. 

You could easily tell the look on his face- annoyed,  exasperated but still trying to hide it. You suddenly felt bad for him- it was probably tiring to have girls all over you all the time. Clearing your throat, you send a fake smile to them. 

“Are you guys finished?” They share a look before brushing past you. 

You hear a cough, turning towards the sound. Taeyong stands up from the desk, muttering thanks. You almost forgot why you were here. 

Plopping into one of the chairs, you stare up at the ceiling. “I’m missing something.” You can sense his confusion even when you’re not looking. “What?” 

Your head lolls toward him. “Here,” you casually point to your head. “I can’t focus in class today.” 

He frowns. “So what do you want me to do about it?” Humming, you reply, “Nothing. You’re not leaving for class now, right?” 

“No, why?” You sigh. “Let me just stay here. You don’t have to do anything, just don’t make me go back to class.” 

“Y/n. What’s going on? You’re missing your lesson, and I know you would never miss a chance to study more than me.” 

After a pause, you look at him. “Let’s not talk for like five minutes, alright?” He abruptly stands up, walking over to you, legs dangling off the sides of the chair. 

Taking your face in his palms, he examines you. “What’s wrong? Did you eat something bad? How much sleep did you get last night?”

Blushing, you slap his hands away. “Nothing’s wrong !! Can’t I just be here if I want?” 

Taeyong squints. “Four hours?” Rolling your eyes, you get up to leave, but his hand catches your uninjured one. “Stay.” You huff, about to snatch your hand away, but his grip tightens. “I want you to.” 

Normally, taeyong wouldn’t allow anyone to just hang out in the office, but for some reason, he just blurted that out. 

Your eyes widen, stopping your struggle.  “w-why are you suddenly saying that?” He mutters you can barely understand. “It gets lonely in here..” 

You try to fight the smile growing onto your face. He was a lot cuter when he was shy like this.

“ I lied. The real reason I came was for you to take this tape off my finger. I didn’t know how long I was supposed to keep it on, and then I kinda forgot about it.” Letting the grin breakthrough on your face, you continue. “But I didn’t know I would be getting more.”

You notice his flushed face and red ears. But what you don’t notice are the girls watching through the window. 

ღ

Cue the jealous confrontation. Frankly, you kinda forgot about the whole ordeal- exams were coming up, and just because Taeyong helped you didn’t mean you were gonna let him win. 

Page 534. That’s the page you were on before rudely being interrupted by a bunch of lowerclassmen. It’s confusing at first, but you stupidly agree to follow them outside to an empty hallway. There were still some lingering effects of that concussion, huh.,,,

You couldn’t tell earlier, but now facing them, their faces seemed annoyed? Angry? 

“Are you dating Taeyong?” you’re guessing the leader of the ‘gang’ demands. You squint in confusion. “What?-no! Why are you asking?” 

The girl scoffs. “Then why are you always flirting with him?” She moves closer, to the point where her face is right in front of yours, causing you to raise an eyebrow. “Just know, he’ll never date someone like you alright? So back off.”

You laugh, eyes glittering in amusement, but the tone in your voice says otherwise. “Who says I have to listen to you? Even if I was flirting with him- which is none of your business- I can do whatever I want.” 

There’s a lot of emotions swirling inside you. Shock, irritation, anger. For someone like taeyong, his fangirls were a lot different. 

“If you’re going to waste my time, I’m leaving.” 

You feel as if someone lit a match within you, but you turn to leave before it gets out of control. 

A hand grabs yours. Hard. Before spinning you around until you feel it. A hard slap leaving tingles on your cheek. And then, of course, a harsh tug on your hair, pulling you closer to that wretched face.

You can’t even think, process anything- it was too shocking. “This is a warning. Stay away from Lee Taeyong. Or next time it’ll be worse.” That’s all it takes for you to move once more. 

You slap her wrist away from your hair, emotions boiling. You enjoy the split second where her face shows fear, but it quickly changes back. She raises her arm again, and you do the same. No way in hell are you letting her touch you again. 

It almost feels like slow motion, both of your arms hovered in the air until a voice cuts through. 

“Y/n?” 

And then everyone freezes. You recognize his voice immediately. Taeyong’s standing at the end of the hallway, eyes wide and body tense. 

Hilarious how fast the whole group changes. Two-faced little- “Taeyong!!! We-we were just trying to get to class, and all of a sudden they- they attacked us! Please-!”

Scoffing, you’re about to just walk away, but Taeyong rushes to you. “Are you alright? Did you get hurt?” His eyes search your whole body, panicked.

Maybe your cheek was stinging pretty bad, but it was nothing compared to the raw satisfaction from those looks on the girls' faces. You don’t even spare a glance back as Taeyong drags you to the nurse's office. 

He sits you down in a chair, wasting no time in grabbing medicine. No words are exchanged. 

“Where did they hit you?” You couldn’t form the words to question how he knew. Swallowing, your hand raises to your cheek. 

You can’t tell if you hate or love the way he looks at you -concerned, tenderly. 

Even the way he speaks so softly. “It’s bruised...” Taeyong takes a glob of some white cream, making you wince when he makes contact with your cheek. His whisper of an apology tickles your face. 

It’s silent as he tends to you. The only thing you can hear is your thudding heartbeat. 

“I-is there more? Did they hit you anywhere else?” “No... thank you though.” As he cleans up, you really don’t have anything to say. 

“Will you at least tell me why they did that? You wouldn’t provoke anyone, I know.” You bite the inside of your cheek, debating. 

He sits in front of you, pleading. “Please?” You’re bewildered as to why he wants to know so bad, but you answer anyway, speaking quietly. “Your fan club-whatever, fangirls. They were jealous of me, apparently. It was stupid of me to follow them, and it was stupid of me to cause a scene.” 

He takes your hand, and you’re surprised at the anger on his face. “No. It wasn’t. They were out of control. It’s my fault since you said they were my-uh fans... I just didn’t know they would do such a thing. Seriously, I’ll tell them to stop completely.” 

“It’s fine,” you sigh, just wanting to go home and sleep. Taeyong’s grip on your hand tightens. 

“It’s not fine!” He objects, voice getting louder. 

You’re startled at his outburst. “Why do you care?”

“Will you stop getting hurt??” 

You frown. “That’s not what I asked. Why are you getting so angry?” You realize how close your faces have gotten, and he must’ve too, considering the sudden red cheeks. A lightbulb goes off in your head. 

Moving in more to bring your face even closer to his, you examine his reaction. Watching as his eyebrows raise before swiftly moving backward. 

A mischievous grin finds its way onto your face. You pretend to tap your chin before asking, eyes glinting, “so? why do you care so much?” 

Taeyong huffs, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “It’s just cause I won’t have anyone to compete with anymore if you’re always hurt. Don’t get any ideas... and stop coming to the nurse’s office!! Just go out with me outside of school,” he grumbles. "-and where no one can hurt you," he adds.

You pout, “I like visiting you.” Both of you falling back into a comfortable silence as you nod decisively. “Alright, since it’s nurse’s orders. But.....”

He glances at you, waiting for you to continue. 

Your face turns serious, and so does his. Facing him, you hold your pinky out in front of you, staring him in the eye. “Promise me.” 

“Promise you what?” 

“That you’ll take care of me. Whenever I’m hurt.” 

And you enjoy the moment when his pinky comes up and wraps around yours.

     A/N: I wrote these situations as a joke, but If you ever get hit in the head and it seems ‘more than harmless’ , please get it checked out ! (I would know from experience ...!)  

[ofmythsandmadness]

stop moving | d.h

you do diego’s eyeliner. 2k words.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

NOTES: gender neutral. long haired diego. i don’t know why i’m writing this and i kinda hate it lol, i rarely write this sort of thing but y’know. i’m going to check all messages, notifs & messed gems in the morning, i’m really only posting this and ghosting again, bc i know otherwise i’ll never do it. and y’know, i want to feel productive about something. take care folks <3

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"CAN YOU PLEASE STOP MOVING?!”

Hot breath stings your trembling fingers as Diego huffs a laugh; it’s barely a sound, a mumble of a chuckle, but you feel it vibrate through your body and hit your hand and it almost does you in. You almost just give up and confess your undying attraction, right then and there. And as though you need more contact, even more of him pressing against you, egging you closer to the precipice that will surely be your infatuated doom. 

“You’re the one who asked to do this, you don’t get to complain.”

“Well, you wanted it. You agreed to this!”

“I--” another exhale against your hand, another peal of laughter following shortly. You've half a mind to clamp his mouth shut with it, if it wouldn’t ignite yet another ill-thought fantasy of yours. “This was still your idea.”

Your smile buds and blooms despite your brain begging your lips to be still. You can’t help it; he’s too good at weaseling into the cracks of your composure. One look, one soft chuckle and you’re set for life. It doesn’t help that you’re basically on his lap, cradling his face in your hands like he’s a baby, and his own fingers tap-tap-tap away on your hips, creating a rhythm no one else but you can make out. Honestly, you’re surprised you haven’t totally cracked yet, this close and this personal.

“Shut your eyes.”

“They are shut.”

“No they’re not!” you poke lightly at the fluttering lids. Your lip snags on your bottom lip; a poor attempt to hide a giggle. “I can’t do this with your eyes open.”

“D'aww…” his lids shut as he groans. “So I’m just supposed to sit here? Let you draw on my face in total darkness?”

You click your tongue, half in disapproval in his exaggeration, and half because you’ve won yet again against his stubbornness. “I won’t be long. Suck it up.”

“Sure. Y’know, I have siblings; I know how long it takes them to do makeup, and-”

“-stop moving, asshole!” Your free hand tugs ever lightly on a strand of hair, one of the many that’s slipped out of his ponytail. Repressed thoughts flash in sultry red across your thoughts and you swallow, quickly letting the hair go. “I-I need you to stay still, or this will take forever.”

Diego sighs and his grip tightens around your hips. Before you know it, he’s moving you. “Then stop wriggling,” he grumbles, flattening you against his legs. You’re basically straddling him, at that point, and your mind goes absolutely blank at how much more intimate this feels. Does he notice? Or is this just another friendly motion you’re yet again reading into?

Your mouth tastes of cotton balls and it’s dry as an Arizona summer. Still, you manage an ‘okay’ before readying your pen again. All you can hope for is a steady hand, though by the way he still holds your waist, and how your mouth lingers mere inches from his lips -- well, you’re coming undone.

It’s just eyeliner, you tell yourself. Your hand rises and swipes; black begins to pool its deep colour against his lashes, low and thin. The line builds taller, thicker as you work, extending out to the corner of his eye. As he breathes, and you try to remind yourself how to, the eyeliner pen works its shaky magic and draws the slightest tinge of a wing against his skin. 

“How’s it going?”

At least he’s kind enough to mumble it, though his face still shifts under your hold. Once more your tongue clicks. 

“It goes better when you don’t speak.”

He swallows his laugh; you know, because you feel his throat work as you hold his head steady. It’s strange and exhilarating, to be so close and still so far away. You want to cradle his cheeks gentler, to hold his face with the heart of a lover, but you’re terrified he’ll recognise your touch and realise your feelings. So you barely touch him and remind yourself to be professional about this.

It’s eyeliner, not a rom-com.

“I’m bored,” he whisper whines. 

“Shh.”

“It’s too quiet.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, patting his cheek gently. “M’working.”

“Y/N...”

You pull away and sit back on his thighs. His left eye doesn’t look half bad, but if he keeps talking… “You can’t talk, ‘else it’s gonna look bad!”

“Then you talk!”

You baulk. “What?”

“I’ll be quiet,” he swears, pouting up to you with eyes still shut, “but please, say something before I lose my mind.”

“Well, I-I-what about?”

“I don’t know. Anything.” He smiles softly. “I like hearing you talk. Don’t care what about.”

You could die right then and there. It’s a simple compliment, it’s really the bare minimum, but you’re already head over heels. And just a couple of soft spoken works are all you need to do you in and nearly keel you over, still straddling his muscular thighs.

“Uh…” you cough, forcing out the giddy tremble that threatens to take your voice. No lovesick teen voice today, thank you very much. “Okay. I don’t have much to...well, the other day, I saw my coworker totally wipe out leaving work.” You pause, expecting some reply, but he stays silent. “And he... he ate so much shit, he might as well dunked his head in a gas station toilet. And - and you know, normally I’d try to sympathise, but when you always make a point to park in my parking spot, I don’t care. Brett’s such an ass. And I don’t blame him, cause he’s got an asshole name -- Brett can’t be anything else but an asshole. So it's his parents fault probably but still, I…”

You continue on, slipping from the topic of your coworker to the free muffin you got with your coffee last week, to the prospects of buying a pet to keep your apartment less lonely, and to what probably felt like a thousand and one things ranted at him. All the while your hands continue, making neat work of a task that had just felt impossible.

And miraculously, aside from a chuckle thrown now and then, Diego stays silent. Maybe he actually means it. Maybe he does like your voice -- or he’s so bored he’s falling asleep, you don’t know. But it’s okay, you don’t let yourself linger on that, too content with taking in his relaxed features and the gentleness of the afternoon sun on the two of you.

“Aaaand….there!” With a triumphant shout, you throw the eyeliner to the side and your hands plunge towards the sky, fist-pumping like you’d just won the lottery. Your body bounces up and down on his lap like a child meeting Santa; in your excitement, you barely notice. “You’re done!”

“That’s it?”

“Yup.” You grabble for a mirror, looking away from him for a moment as you reach for the handle. Wiping it off, you’re focused solely on making sure the glass is clean enough for him to see himself in, and your brain is distracted enough to totally forget what you’ve even done, enough so when you look up, all you have is,

“Oh.”

Look, you know Diego is an attractive man. You’ve known since the day you met; he’s a beautiful guy, a handsome asshole who wormed his way into your befuddled heart before you could even learn his name. He’s pretty enough that if he wasn’t so set on his weird vigilante career, he could probably shoot for being a damn supermodel. He’s a catch! But all those years of knowing that and feeling like that could not prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Diego squints at you, cocking his head. “Is it okay?”

“I…” Delicate black lines his upper lash line, making his deep brown eyes stand out even more. He’s smiling still, full lips curving up to only make your heart pound faster. A strand of his hand falls across his face, painting the gentlest of shadows but it doesn’t bother his pretty face. “I...no, no, yea-ah…”

“Wow,” he laughs, jabbing a finger into your side. “Eloquent.”

“I-I-shut up,” you stammer. You force the mirror into his hands and look away. You’re still on his lap, still straddling his lap and the logical part of your brain begs you to get it together and fall off, already. But the stupid, foolish, absolutely idiotic part leaves you paralysed. “Just look for yourself.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for him in the silence. There’s nothing, though, for achingly painful seconds, until the mirror shifts down. “Huh.”

“Huh, good? Or bad?” 

“I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Really? What’s wrong?”

“It’s not bad,” he assures you, his smile evident in his tone. “Just different. Don’t know how to feel about it.”

“O-oh...well, if it makes you feel better, I think it looks great.”

“You do?”

Oh, dammit. That came out with way too much enthusiasm, didn’t it? Your legs are concrete as you shift, face angled towards the floor. Hopefully he’s strong enough to push you off him when your body literally catches flame from humiliation. 

“You look good man,” he mocked back to you. But he’s grinning, egging you on like a child who knows he’s got you twisted around his pinky finger. “Come on, say it like you don’t have a gun to your head!”

And maybe you do, maybe you’re holding the revolver to your temple, just asking to get screwed if you dare speak beyond the most stilted compliment you’ve ever extended to someone. He’s a friend, you remind yourself; friends are allowed to compliment the other. They’re allowed to say they look good and not make it a thing, even if they wish it was a thing, and--

“--hey? You in there?”

“Sorry,” you say to the floor. You swear a thousand curses before looking back to Diego. And, yeah -- he still looks impossibly good. The ageing afternoon sun falls just perfectly against his skin, flushing him into the being of a god, standing in your apartment while you, a mere mortal, remains stuck to his thick thighs.

You gulp in air desperately, trying to catch your gaze on something, anything else -- but nothing sticks. He’s still there, inches from you, desperately aching for you to stare at.

“No, uh, yeah. You look - you look hot.”

Wait.

That wasn’t--

“-I look hot?”

That isn’t what you were supposed to say.

“I,” you have literally nothing to save yourself. This is the end! You’re young Leo and Rose is shoving you off the door and into the icy waters, and you’ve just got one last look at pretty Diego to satiate the freezing burn before you succumb to it. “I...wasn’t...that wasn’t what I meant.”

He has no right to look so smug. But he does it anyway. He leans away from your hands as they flutter through the air on their own accord, looking at you through half-lidded pools of caramel. “You don’t think I look hot?”

“Don’t,” you warn, with little strength behind it. “Don’t twist my words.”

“I’m just asking.”

He leans back in. You’re almost touching again. 

Is this weird? This is definitely weird.

You swallow back the lump in your throat and stare back at him. This all feels like fifth grade all over again -- awkward, sticky and like every move is the wrong move. But you can’t stop yourself from playing into his hands, because that sly, shameful part of you wants this more than will ever be admitted. You want him to look at you like this, like you could hang the stars if he asked you to...and you want him to pull you closer, as he does, and mean it.

Could he?

“Would you hate me? If I thought you looked hot?”

Diego head cocks to the side as he seemingly contemplates your words. A nudge meets your side; you look down to see his hands once again reaching for you. Though it's on their own accord this time, gently landing on your left hip, then the right. You shiver.

“That depends,” he says slowly. His eyes narrow, black wings just barely crinkling in. “D’you mean it like, ‘oH, that’s so-oo hot, woW-’”

Your laugh is hardly a whisper. It cracks even before your lips. “Come on.”

“Or, do you…” his fingers dig in a little more. They nudge at the fabric of your top, daring it to move enough so they could cradle the flesh hidden underneath. “You mean it the other way?”

Heart in throat, all the courage you can possibly muster with it, you mutter, “the...other way, probably.” Then a second later, “is that okay?”

“Mm…” His fingers finally reach your skin. You shiver under his touch, warm and unflinching as they brush against the soft curves. Diego’s face comes towards your own and you force yourself not to move. But he doesn’t stop, instead he goes past you, brushing his plush lips against your earlobe. “I would say...that if all this took was making you do my eyeliner, I shoulda asked years ago.”

“I, okay...don’t play with me, here--”

“--I’m serious,” he protests lowly. His lips leave your ear but they don’t run far. Instead, you find them a brush away from your own, just as you were minutes before. Only this time, you don’t try to clamp your mouth shut and skirt away from the touch. You nudge your nose against his own, exhaling softly as more skin meets the heat of his own. “You think I just let anyone sit on my lap like this, without thinkin’ it could be more?”

You shrug like this is normal. Like you’re perfectly at peace with the universe and the way you’re wondering how his tongue would taste, pushing back against your own. “I mean...do you?”

“No,” he chuckles low. “No, I’m...not into friendly lap dances, actually.”

“O-oh. Mm.”

He pulls you closer. He wants you closer.

“Diego…” You’re unravelling. You’re fucking unravelling, unnerved by his voice and his hands and you’re putty in them, all inhibitions sliding away like you’re three drinks in. His hands by your sides leave their marks against your skin; you can feel the pads of his fingers, burning into your skin like they were molten iron and not just mere brushes. “I...”

“Tell me.” He sounds cocky. He has a right to be, even if you’re damned to admit it. “Tell me what you think.”

Your hands shiver up his forearms, clinging to his bare shoulders as he pulls you impossibly closer. Your mind’s going a mile a minute and you refuse to listen to a single thought. You’re only feeling him.

“Y/N…”

“Fine,” you huff, with a smile. Your noses brush again; your eyes flutter shut with his image imprinted against their lids. “I think you look...hot as hell, Diego.”

“Yeah.” He’s grinning; you can hear it in his voice, that smirk that makes your gut flip like a damn rollercoaster ride. “S’what I thought, baby.”

And then he kisses you.

A/N: i normally hate writing oblivious characters but this wasn’t even intentional really. every time i try to write something remotely sexual i just lead the reader into ‘oH tHiS iS jUsT wHaT fRiEnDs Do’ and ‘iT’S wEiRd rIgHt’. to my defense...i doubt you’re on this page reading this expecting good sexual tension. i’m not the tua writer for that; let me know if you want recommendations for that because trust me, there are better authors for that. for now, you get this. <3