#I’ve been WANTING to cut it for months I mean but the style of cut was not smth I thought abt I was just thinking ‘not long anymore’

[sanchoyo]

I cut like. 6-7 inches off my hair and dyed it blue and I’m so happy!! there is nothing like changing up my hair to boost my mood ^_^

[wannabeschyulersister]

might as well be drunk in love

*part two to lovelorn and nobody knows*

part one

warnings: mentions of a panic attack

It had been four and a half months since you left The Bear behind. Despite being so heartbroken over the what happened, you made yourself get up each day. There wasn’t time to let the sadness consume you. You had to move on.

Your dream one day was to open your own restaurant and you couldn’t do that if you were wallowing.

Part of you wanted to cut everyone off for the fresh start that you so desperately wanted. But it wasn’t their fault that you were heartbroken.

Plus, Tina would kick your ass if you stopped talking to her.

So, you kept up with everyone. Minus Carmen. It was just easier this way. The others mentioned him a couple of times and you’d noticed that it got easier and easier to hear his name without it hurting you.

You kept yourself busy with work and maintaining friendships that you built at The Bear while also making new ones. You tried so very hard to keep that tattooed blue-eyed man out of your mind.

The restaurant that you were a sous chef now wasn’t as flashy as The Bear had turned out to be. It still had that family-like style that you liked.

You still followed the same habits that you had at The Bear. So, you grabbed your coat and headed outside for your break. It was around 6:30. You liked to have some calming moments before the dinner rush.

When you stepped out the back door to the alley, you were stunned to see Carmen standing there leaning against the wall.

You both just stood there for a few seconds not saying anything. You wondered if you were truly losing it. If he was just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey.” He said snapping you out of your thoughts. He looked good like always. He was wearing his classic blue jeans, plain white tee and an olive bomber jacket. His hair was haphazardly styled but still looked incredible.

“What are you doing here?”

“I figured you still followed the same break time.”

“How did you know where I worked?”

“Syd told me. Well, I uh, I begged her to tell me. I didn’t know if you’d answer my calls. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Why you really left the restaurant. I asked everyone when you left for a reason why. They didn’t know. Or they just didn’t want to tell me.”

“I already told you why I left.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t believe you, (Y/n).”

“I don’t have time for this.” You started to walk away but Carmen quickly moved in front of you. He blocked the back door.

“You practically ignored me the last two weeks you were there. You didn’t answer my calls and stopped texting me. Was it- did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No!” You quickly answered.

“Then what was it? I’ve been drivin’ myself crazy tryin’ to figure out why you left.”

“Because I’m in love with you!” You wanted to scream out.

Carmen froze. “You’re what?”

Shit. Looks like you actually did say it out loud.

“Uh, I didn’t mean-“

“Wait, you left because you have feelings for me?”

“Please forget that I said that. I didn’t mean it and I- I know that you’re-“ you felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. You couldn’t believe that you’d blurted out that you were in love with Carmen to him.

“Hey. Hey, take a deep breath.” You felt Carmen cup your face between his hands. His face was so close to yours if you leaned up, your lips would be on his.

Carmen breathed in deeply with you, held it for four seconds and then exhaled. The breathing technique normally worked for you but it helped how close in proximity he was. His touch alone put you at ease.

You were more completely overwhelmed instead of having a panic attack. You knew the difference. The embarrassment of having told Carmen that you were in love with him made you just want to fall out.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly after a few moments.

“No, I’m mortified.”

You heard him chuckle, “That’s a first for me. I’ve never had someone say they’re mortified with being in love with me.”

Taking a step back, you removed yourself from his grasp. In that moment, you’d forgotten that he was spoken for. He had a girlfriend. It was inappropriate to be so wrapped up.

“I shouldn’t have said that. You’re with Claire and I respect relationships.”

“(Y/n)-“

“No, you shouldn’t be here. You should be with your girlfriend and I have to get back to work.”

Carmen raised his voice, “(Y/n)!” He stepped closer to you again, “Claire and I broke up.”

“What?”

“After you left, I, uh, I took it really hard. I don’t know if Sydney told you.”

You shook your head, “I told them I didn’t want to hear anything about…you. Or Claire for that matter.”

“I didn’t want to really interact with anyone. Even more than usual. I missed having you around and-and our talks during our break. You always put me in a good fuckin’ mood just by your presence. Sometimes when things were stressful as fuck, I’d look over at you, and-and you’d smile at me and-“

“And what?” He literally had you hanging on every word.

“And I knew that everything would be okay.” He answered looking deeply into your eyes, “When Claire confronted me about how I’d been actin’, I realized then that what we had it wasn’t how it should be.”

“What do you mean?”

“I should get those fuckin’ butterflies that people always talk about. I should be at ease when she’s around. I should be able to sit in silence with her but things not be so damn awkward. It should be comfortable. It should be like how I feel with you.” Carmen finished.

What a turn of events this conversation had turned out to be. One minute, you thought he was some illusion and the next he was practically confessing that he had feelings for you too.

“You have feelings for me?”

Carmen nodded, “It took me to realize it when you walked out of The Bear for the last time. I was scared that I’d never see you again. I gave you space because I thought that’s what you wanted. But, I’m crazy in love with you. I didn’t want to not tell you how I feel.”

“I’m glad you did tell me. I don’t think I’d ever have the courage to tell you.”

“I wish you would’ve. I feel like we wasted a lot of time where we could’ve been together.”

“And what would we be doing if we were together?” You confidently took a step closer to him again. He was close enough to kiss.

Carmen smiled, “Well, first, I’d grab you here,” he placed his hands on your waist pulling you towards his body, “then, I’d lift up your chin lightly,” he did so.

His face tilted down towards you, “and then I’d kiss you.”

When he finally pressed his lips against yours, the world around you went silent. In that damn moment, you didn’t even remember your name.

You didn’t care that it was freezing outside. You didn’t care that you were most likely past your fifteen minutes on your break. You just cared that Carmen Berzatto was kissing you.

The back door opened and you heard your friend and the pastry chef call your name, “(Y/n)? Do you always make out with strangers on your break?”

This made the both of you laugh. “I have to get back inside.”

“Can I come and pick you up afterwards? I want to see you again tonight.” Carmen asked after he kissed you softly one last time.

“I get out around 10. Don’t be a minute late, Berzatto.”

“I wouldn’t dare be late.”

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 365!

1 year! One whole year of daily doodles!!

Honestly?? Idk how to feel, so much has happened since I first started this blog.

I guess I’ll just write what I’m thinking right now??

(Everything under the cut, this thing is longer than I expected)

A lot of this text probably isn’t going to make sense. I’m writing this at 1 am. If there’s any mistakes or errors that’s why. I’ll fix them in the morning maybe.

So like. This whole thing kinda started as a joke, I wasn’t intending to actually draw for a year straight lmao. Like I even used a completely different art style from my regular one that was simple, quick and intentionally dumb. Not that I’m upset by it, I’m actually quite proud of myself that I managed to stick to something for an entire year. That’s pretty unusual for me believe it or not. My original intention was to stop at maybe 20 days because I really wasn’t expecting for this blog to get as much love as it did.

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so so much to everyone who has followed and supported this silly little idea I had, you guys are the biggest reason my experience has been so positive and worth it. (Sure it’s not original but I hope it’s at least been interesting!)

I’ve said this a few times now but I’ve mentioned wanting to take a break. I’ll admit that even though it’s been fun it’s still pretty tiring to keep up with this blog sometimes since some recent life events have made it so hard. After some thought, I’ve decided that I’ll likely take a break sometime in the coming months. Maybe toward day 400 or so. As of right now, things are at a lull so I’ve been okay enough mentally and physically to keep up this daily streak I think. Though this could change in an instant for whatever reason.

Overall I think my burnout has kind of gone away I think?? Or at least I’ve been reinvigorated recently after replaying a few runs of hk randomizer and steel soul. No promises it’ll stay away but I silly expect it to come in waves.

Ok but call me crazy or delusional or whatever, but my hopes are up that Silksong will release this year. (which means slowing down/not doing daily doodles yay) I genuinely believe big news is coming since I’ve been getting a lot of dreams lately about something happening with Silksong in March. Idk, I could be wrong but after doing this for a year I’m literally clinging onto anything right now lol

I’d obviously still make the occasional doodle or two when HKSS releases but not daily. This stuff is tough to keep up sometimes, I would never do daily posts like this again once it’s over

Oh yeah also I have an actual big drawing I’m still working on, expect that in sometime in the next few weeks I think!

Anyway, I can’t think of anything else to say right now so I guess that’s it for now!

Thanks so much and here’s to more doodles!

[the-californicationist]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’re doing request if you aren’t don’t worry but If you are could you please write whatever you’re down for, a little Drabble of Simon and reader going yarn shopping! I just came back yarn shopping myself and I’ve been giggling at the names! One I picked is called “tutti frutie

Thank you so much for the ask!! This is such a cute idea. Hope you enjoy the story <3

Twelve Row Repeat

Your wonderful man, Simon Riley, has his heart set on a sweater for Christmas. So, you drag him to the yarn shop to make him squish the skeins.

“And you’re sure you want this one? There are some other —”

Simon reached over you, towering behind you in his motorcycle gear and black medical mask, snatching the paper pattern from the small rack,

“This is it.”

“Okay,” you flipped open the small pattern booklet, “Great.”

This was not great. 

Simon had only been asking for one thing all year. Each time Christmas came up in conversation, he’d just shrug and mention his sweater. It was your own fault, really. You’d been frequenting a new local yarn shop by your flat, and he’d begrudgingly tag along. His big brown eyes would cut over a sharp glance to you when the price rang up on the till, but he didn’t complain. One night, while you were scrolling through heirloom-style sweater patterns on your phone, daydreaming about the knitter you would someday be, he stopped you, pressing his thick fingerpad to the screen,

“Aye. That’ll do me.”

“Si,” you shook your head, “I’m not that good, yet. Those are much harder than they look.”

“Nah, you’re brilliant,” he planted a chaste kiss on your mouth, silencing your protests, and left it at that. 

So, now, here you were, hunched over the small pattern library of your favorite shop, digging through the advanced section of Aran sweaters, staring at sleeves with cables and twelve-row repeats. It was enough to make your mouth dry. 

But, he believed in you, and you wanted to trust yourself that you could handle it. Bucking up the courage, you grabbed a few notions and headed over to the yarn wall, dragging Simon behind you. 

You stood side by side as you stared at the collection. It was organized by weight and brand, color-coded for fiber type. It was one of your favorite places on earth. Sometimes, even when you didn’t bring your man with you, you’d come and dig through the cubbies, squishing the cakes and skeins, letting them whisper to you about what they wanted to be. It was important to you that you listened to the yarn. Just because you wanted to make a blanket with a particular yarn didn’t necessarily mean it would feel good on your needles. You needed to listen and feel… and most importantly — squeeze for softness.

“Alright,” you said, galvanized, “What color?”

“Black.”

“No.”

There was no way in hell you were spending six months staring into the blackness trying to decipher the knits and purls and cables of a Level 4 sweater.

Simon huffed, but he was smiling. You could see the way his cheek creased up underneath his eyes. 

“Green,” he relented, then grabbed your arm in his gloved hand, snatching you away from a pretty sage color wool, “Dark green.”

You glared up at him, but you set your sights on a dark green merino. It called to you like a siren’s song. And, at the price per skein that you assumed that it was, you were about to help Simon find out just what kind of gift he was asking you for. 

Your hand reached out to grab the carefully wound ball. It was soft, with a very slight halo, and the emerald hues varied only a little through the strands, letting you know that it had been hand-dyed with the utmost care. You flipped it over to read the name: Spruced Up. As your fist delicately closed around the skein, you nearly sighed from the plushness of it. You wanted to bury your face in it already, and it wasn’t even knitted up. 

You checked the weight. After measuring Simon at home, you knew you needed to over buy. Who knows? You told yourself. Maybe I’ll even get some gloves out of this. It would be fun to match with him.

“Okay, tiger,” you smiled up at him, “We need thirteen of these.” 

He grabbed the ball from you and checked the tag,

“Thirteen? Are you havin’ a laugh?”

“You’re a big bloke,” you shrugged, “And this is a complex pattern. Just give me your hand. I want you to feel it.”

He hesitated, doing the mental math for the cost in his head. But, he gave you his hand and let you remove his glove.

You placed the skein back into his palm, staring in wonder at the sheer size of it, and told him,

“Okay, now squish.”

Simon squished. He was careful, now that he knew the price of what he was holding, and he looked down at it in surprise.

“Soft…” He commented in a half-whisper, looking up into your gaze with amused surprise. Then, he squished again, indulgently, and his timbre changed to something a little more insidious, “Soft like you, lamb.”

Your pet name rumbled out of his mouth as no small threat. You saw him reaching for you, and you caught him before he could snake his other hand fully under your dress, grabbing for your thighs to tease the soft, plump flesh there.

“Hey! If you get me kicked out, you definitely won’t get your sweater.” You smirked, bumping him with your hip, promising him he could be naughty later, just not here.

Simon helped you haul your purchases up to the counter and paid for the entire lot, not even grimacing at the final total. He patiently waited while you used their in-store winder and swift. You enjoyed the way he studied you as you practiced the skills of your craft. His faith in your abilities really made you feel like you could accomplish anything you set your mind to. 

Finally, with your yarn and notions packed and stowed carefully in his bike’s saddle bags, Simon handed you your helmet and commented, 

“Looking forward to seeing your progress, love.”

“I’ll keep you posted. Might even let you squish my yarn again…” You winked when his head turned back to you, getting excited by your tone.

“It’s not the yarn I want in my hands, little lamb. Get on this bike before you get yourself into trouble.”

AO3 Link

*Sorry, my knitting knowledge is basic, but I tried to do my homework. I can make a scarf and that's about it!

[glitteredrry]

GQ couples quiz

summary: Y/N quizzes Harry to test if he’s truly been paying attention during their relationship.

warnings: fluff

wc: 700+

“Greetings, I’m Y/N.”

“And my name’s Harry,” He cut in, eyeing the camera with a bright smile.

“Today we’re doing,” I said looking over to Harry to get our timing correct.

“The GQ couples quiz,” we said at the same time. We held up our hands in the air, silently cheering that we got it right.

“Are you ready?” I asked him pretending to be being more serious than I could ever possibly be around him.

“Hit me with all the questions, bunny.” He said confidently while adjusting himself in the seat.

Clearing my throat, I looked at the cards that GQ prepared for us trying to get ready to speak. “Mr. Styles, what is my full name?”

Harry pondered and teasingly hit his head as if he could not remember, “I think your name is Y/N Y/L/N. You weren’t given a middle name like us common folk.” I let out a laugh throwing the card in the air moving to the next one.

“What was the name of my first pet? For bonus points, what kind of animal was it?” I squinted my eyes at him because truthfully I believe that I’ve only mentioned it once. The time that I did mention it, we were at the beginning of our relationship.

“It was a cheeky name, I can’t think of the name. But I’m positive that it was a guinea pig.” My eyebrows shot up in surprise while I smiled. I can’t believe he remembered the animal.

“I’m shocked you remembered good job baby-”

“Sargent tater tot!” He interrupted excitingly remembering the silly name I picked out at six years old.

“GQ give him all the points you can, I told you that like the first month of our relationship. How did you remember?” He shrugged his shoulders confidently.

“I’ve just got better memory skills than your average person. Next question, bunny.” He said while giving me a small laugh.

“How did we first meet?”

“Easy. You went to a show of mine with a dear friend of mine. We got acquainted backstage, you fell madly in love with me. The rest is history.” I turned my head to the camera, giving it a moment of silence.

“That is how we met, Y/N.” He called out, breaking the silence.

“No, it’s not! You just don’t remember, but we met when you were performing at the Victoria Secret fashion show. I was an invited guest.”

“Oh, that doesn’t count. I didn’t even get the chance to speak to you! We only said hi.” He was right, that night he was the center of attention and we didn’t get a proper greeting. It still counted to me.

“I say let’s give him a half a point.”

“Deal.” He agreed to it, even though I could tell the competitive part of him wanted the full point.

“How many years have we’ve been together?”

“Three long, long, long,” he said looking at the camera as I laughed at his theatrics. “Loving years.” He ended up saying; causing everyone in the studio to awe. He shook his head nodding with a small smile, soaking in the attention his answer was getting him.

“Let’s go to the next question, you little attention seeker.” Harry bursted out in a cackle at me calling him out in-front of everyone.

We ran through the questions, making everyone in the room fawn over our relationship. Harry’s eyes never left mine, and him getting all the correct answers caused a bright blush to never leave my cheeks. Laughs went across the room as we told some antidotes that were behind each answer. The room calmed down as we approached the final question of the video.

“So far, you’ve had a winning streak,” I said to him, causing Harry to give himself a slight pat on the back.

“Are you ready for the final question, babe?”

“This is a lot of pressure, give me a moment.” He took a dramatic, drawn out deep breath as if he was meditating. “I’m ready.”

“What was the very first, and I do mean the first professional gig I had?” My career as an actor began before I could even count to three. My first acting gig was different from my first professional gig in the industry.

“You’ve been acting your whole life…but when you were six months old?” He said questioning the age. “Yes, six months you modeled for Gap?” He said still unsure of his answer.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a winner! Harry Styles, come on up and claim your prize.” Harry shot up celebrating as he walked over to my directors chair to plant a kiss on my lips.

“My man knows me well,” I said to the room, causing them to laugh. Harry began to hug me, not caring about the cameras being there.

“GQ, we are Harry and Y/N. Thanks for having us.”

[florencemtrash]

Hummingbird: Chapter One

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

You leaned back against the desk, ignoring the leftover smattering of paint as it seeped into your overalls, and checked the time. Miles’s face was stuck to the pages of his sketchbook, blue and red ink staining his cheek as he snored softly. One hand loosely gripped an open highlighter, the other dangled over the edge of his desk, half-eaten sandwich abandoned on the floor.

Twenty minutes. He’d been asleep for twenty minutes, and if you let him sleep any longer, he’d be late for fifth period.

You rapped your knuckles on his pencil case, the ringing tin jolting the teenager awake. Brown eyes flashed around the room, fists shooting out in an amateur boxing move as he tried to figure out why his spidey sense hadn’t warned him of any danger.

But there was no danger here. Nope, just Miss Y/l/n staring at him curiously from under raised brows.

“Wakey wakey, Miles,” You wore your usual pair of yellow Converse and paint-splattered overalls, the pockets hanging wide and loose after years of carrying around paint bottles, brushes, and books. The school board liked to complain about your “improper dress,” but at the end of the day you were one of the school’s only art teachers - and the most highly approved by students.

“Oh heyyyyy Miss Y/l/n.” He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck before dropping to the floor and snatching up his forgotten lunch. This was the fourth time you’d caught him sleeping in your classroom. Any more and you might actually have to start giving him detention. He tossed pens, snacks, and his sketchbook haphazardly into his bag, but not before you caught sight of a familiar blond-haired, blue-eyed girl smiling in front of a backdrop rioting with yellow, pinks, and blues more vibrant than a fireworks display. “GWEN!” the comic-style calligraphy called out next to her glowing face. Miles always seemed to be drawing her these days.

“You’ve still got five minutes left, calm down.” Miles straightened up to face you, clutching his lunchbox to his chest and smiling nervously. You folded your arms over your chest and stared pointedly at the gangly boy in front of you. With how much he’d grown over the last few months you wondered if one of his ancestors had been a garden weed. 

“You want to talk about what’s been going on, Miles?” 

“What do you-what do you mean?”

“You’ve been falling asleep in my class, this is the fourth time I’ve caught you napping here during lunch, and now I hear from Mr. Maloney that you’ve been skipping English.”

“He-he told you that?” He tugged at the collar of his shirt, hoping for a breeze to drift in through the window and save him from his nerves. He thought he’d been good about juggling the responsibilities of being a high-schooler and everyone’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. If his parents noticed anything different about him they chalked it up to teenage angst and grief over Uncle Aaron’s death. But someone had caught him slipping up.

You shrugged, “The teacher’s lounge exists, and people like to talk.”

“Oh…” he mumbled, shoulders dropping.

The dull ringing of the school bell cut through the silence, followed shortly by the rumblings of conversation as students filled the hallway, moving with the current like fish in a river.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Listen, Miles, you’re not in trouble, ok?” Miles sighed in relief. “If you need to eat your lunch or just take a break in my classroom that’s fine with me. I just want to make sure you’re not trying to flunk out like last year.” 

He shook his head adamantly. He couldn’t - wouldn’t - drop out of Brooklyn Visions now. He had a plan for the future: go to Princeton, figure out multiversal traveling, and reunite with Gwen and Peter and the rest of the Spider-gang. Seemed simple enough… and totally doable…

“I promise that’s not the case, Miss Y/l/n.” The sincerity behind his words satisfied you.

“Alright Miles, but I’m keeping an eye on you,” You said dramatically, squinting your eyes and pointing at his chest. Miles snorted, mouth breaking open into a lopsided grin, “Now get out of here or Mrs. Cape will think I’ve convinced you to go to art school again.” 

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I just…”

“Yes, yes, you want to go study physics at Princeton,” you waved your hand in the air, tracing some invisible pattern in the sunlight before grabbing a wet wipe from your desk and tossing it to Miles, “Quantum mechanics, the multiverse, and all that stuff.” 

It wasn’t the first time he’d told you about his future plans, but the words that left his mouth had a tendency of flying over your head. The kid was too smart for his own good.

You paused and took a moment to look at Miles, to really look at him as he scrubbed away at the ink on his cheek, “Those Princeton schmucks would be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks Miss Y/l/n.” Again he gave you that crooked, boyish smile.

“Alright now out, out!” You shooed him towards the door, watching as he saluted you and flashed you one last smile before joining the crowd of students and disappearing around the corner.

You slipped back into your classroom, the smell of charcoal, dried paint, and pencil shavings settling into your lungs - sweet and comforting. There wasn’t an inch of space that wasn’t covered in some manner of artwork: sketches, paintings, collages… colorful graffiti that you should probably scrub out before parent-teacher conferences. Most of the pieces were the works of current students, but sometimes people like to leave things behind on purpose, trusting that you would find a place for them somewhere.

You wiped down the desks, rubbed the worst paint splotches from your overalls, and then collapsed into your chair, swiveling around and munching on the sandwich you’d picked up at the Prospect St. bodega. You had thirty minutes of peace and quiet before sixth period. 

That’s more than enough time. You thought to yourself. Maybe I’ll get some grading done and-

A head of curly black hair popped into the room, face wet and screaming with tears. You straightened in your chair as the boy’s lips thinned, then turned down. His shoulders began to tremble.

“He…He,” Hiccup, “He broke up with me, Miss Y/l/n.” 

“Oh geez,” you sighed deeply, setting your sandwich down and ushering the boy in. 

There were things you missed about being a teenager… the highs and lows of a first love were not on that list.

>>>

Saturday nights were sacred - the only time you reserved entirely for yourself. No grading, no reviewing and updating lesson plans, no agonizing over student reviews. You’d used to go out with old college friends for drinks on the weekend, but most of them had moved out of the city or gotten married and were doing married people things.

Is this what getting older is like? You wondered as you snuggled further into your couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders to keep out the chill. It wasn’t too terrible… albeit a little lonely.

The latest in a slew of cooking shows played out on the tv, throwing flashes of light onto the book-burdened coffee table and providing the background noise necessary for you to finally get your thoughts out of your sketchbook. But the moment you went to put the pen nib down, your mind went blank, and not in a good way. Every line looked wrong, the eyes of the figure looking bloated and misshapen. Time creeped by slowly, dragging you along for a ride as smooth as sandpaper.

 You knew the cause of your frustration, but knowing never made it better. It had been two months since Richard had moved out, two months and one day since you’d found out he was cheating on you with some grad student at NYU. 

Pendejo.

You’d hated his interior decorating, but now the blank spaces on the wall screamed his name. 

You tossed your sketchbook and pencil onto the ground and went to make a cup of tea. Maybe you were better off calling it a night and crawling into bed. Mid-year reviews had just ended and you had a long list of emails to reply to in the morning. One thing you hadn’t been expecting when you’d accepted this job was the number of parents who’d be on your ass about their kids getting a B in art - in art. 

The tea kettle was just about to open its mouth and start singing when a crash sounded from the living, followed by a sheepish “Whoops.” The muffled word punctuated Paul Hollywood’s critique of someone’s lemon tart - too stodgy.

Your blood ran cold as the stranger continued to mutter. 

“There goes another one. Wow there’s a lot of stuff on the floor.” Another one of your precious potted plants hit the ground with a dull crack. 

You grabbed the wooden bat from where it leaned against the wall, swinging it easily behind your head. At least there was one good thing Richard had left you with. 

You creeped out into the hallway, backing up towards the front door with your eyes trained on the shadowy figure making a mess of your living room. The figure fluctuated in and out of existence as he stumbled about the room, tripping over the piles of books and art supplies littering the ground. His body splintered outwards like cobwebs and twisted with flashes of bright light, haunting and inhuman. 

The creak of the floorboards gave you away. All at once the figure stopped and turned around to look at you. Where its face should have been was a single, flickering white spot, pulsing with curiosity as it tilted its head to the side. 

Mierda. 

You bolted towards the door… but he was already there.

“Why hello Mrs. O’Hara. Nice to finally meet you.” A thousand voices said at once.

You screamed and swung. 

The first swing missed, leaving a crater in the drywall. The second swing hit true, but the bat merely sunk into the black void of his body, some force ripping it out of your hands as you staggered backward. “Oh! Well that wasn’t very nice.” The creature laughed. 

Spindly tendrils of dark matter grabbed hold of you and you let out one final scream before the Spot swallowed you whole.

There was a momentary blindness and the sensation of falling before you were unceremoniously spit out onto a hard granite floor. You winced at the rough cut of broken glass beneath your heels, with nothing to protect you but a thin pair of socks. You looked upward and gasped. 

Where there had once been a towering glass ceiling dozens of stories high lay a gaping hole, the metal beams blown backwards into the night air like a blooming flower. It took you a moment to recognize the building, after all you’d seen it nonstop on the news for weeks last year - Alchemax.

What the hell?

Police tape criss-crossed over the debris like yellow spider webs, the scene broken up by black holes that morphed and twisted around you, pulsing with the same energy as the stranger in your apartment.

I must be dreaming. You thought. But in the back of your mind you remembered bits and pieces of what Miles told you he’d been studying over the summer - wormholes and spacetime and portals to different universes. 

You picked up a piece of metal off the floor, experimentally tossing it into one of the spots. It disappeared under the surface like pottery in slip before popping back into existence above you. You only narrowly lunged out of the way before it crashed into the ground and stuck there like a sword in a battlefield.

“Beautiful, isn’t it Mrs. O’Hara?” the Spot stepped out of a hole in the fabric of spacetime beside you. 

You jumped back, choking the scream in your throat. “That’s not-that’s not my name.” You managed to say. “Maybe you’ve kidnapped the wrong person?” A stupid hope.

“Oh? What is it then?” You said nothing, daring to lean down and pick up a jagged piece of roof panel. It might not do much, but it made you feel safer with its weight in your hands. “Well you don’t need to tell me. I just wanted to ask you a question.” He blipped out of existence, taking with him the darkness that pooled out of his skin.

“Who is Spider-Man?” the voices said as the Spot reappeared right beside you.

“You’ve got to stop doing that! Pendejo.” 

“What?”

“Just talk to me like a normal person.” You pointed the roof panel at him, keeping him at a safe distance.

“Who. Is. Spider-Man?” He stepped closer, the tip of your makeshift weapon sinking into his skin like he wasn’t even there. 

The question made you pause. That was what he wanted to know? He had kidnapped you just to ask about Spider-Man? 

“Um, I mean, he’s kind of the local superhero. Stops thieves, saves kittens stuck in trees, makes questionable brand deals at times-”

“NO! I know who Spider-Man is.” 

You blinked in confusion, eyes shifting to the side, “Then why did you kidnap me?”

“I want to know Spider-Man’s identity! His real identity.” The edges of his body sparked, shooting outward and striking the walls of the room. Dust and plaster fell to the ground like snow.

“I don’t-how the fuck am I supposed to know who Spider-Man is?!”

“You know him! The other version of you knew him!” 

“What, other me?”

“The alternate universe version of you!” He threw his hands up into the air like a petulant child. The darkness around him grew with every passing minute, crawling around on the floor and up onto the walls like a reptile looking for its next meal. He slid his hands down his face, somehow pulling at the ether he was made of as he muttered under his breath.

“Whatever, I may have miscalculated. You’ll still be important. Don’t you worry. You may not know who Spider-Man is, but Spider-Man sure knows you.”

Next chapter ->

>>>

Author's Note: so... I may have gotten carried away and written the second chapter as well... hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @geraskier-thots @howabouticallyou @sweetheartlizzie07 @dont-mind-me27 @omg-edzia-stuff @sarcastically-defensive17 @trouble-sistar @saltyluminaryvoid @lunablue001 @sadslasher13 @yas-v @thel0v3hashira143 @trishuh8 @vague-flying-shape @tiana76 @dinuxia-bhm @mxtokko @devilsrose666 @natbratty @zettoaizawa-shusband @dorck26 @notasadgirlipromise @niyanispunk @thecraziestcrayon @athenxt @imnotyourbcbe @jannajuju @lunamoonbby @elle-19 @aces148 @sseleniaa @elaineiswithyou-blog @summerli-u @rattlethemskulls @sunseekerlove @bubbabobabubbles @loonalockley @aleombre @littlelilies @07-bilin @nerdalicios @insanely-creative-things

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Ten

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.

WC: 6.3k

CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off

AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby

It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces. 

But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made. 

You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house. 

Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother. 

You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living. 

“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” 

“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift. 

“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were. 

At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for. 

You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.” 

But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits. 

But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain. 

Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was. 

You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise. 

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 

“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment. 

You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?” 

You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone. 

So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.” 

The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her. 

“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?” 

Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes. 

He was everything. He was wonderful. 

“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.” 

“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present. 

But for Seonghwa, you’d do it. 

“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.

One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least. 

The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.” 

Your entire body sagged with relief. 

So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall. 

As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin. 

A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back. 

You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing. 

It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small. 

It could’ve been a crown. 

“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?” 

You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account. 

But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it. 

“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.” 

The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone. 

You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around. 

Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-

“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly. 

You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment. 

And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense. 

But it was worth it for Seonghwa. 

The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 

At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back. 

But there was nothing. Just light and joy. 

You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.” 

You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house. 

A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations. 

But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others. 

But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time. 

You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that. 

But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him. 

The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months. 

Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right. 

You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs. 

You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it. 

“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No. 

But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early. 

But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you. 

“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table. 

None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor. 

Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?” 

Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile. 

“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass. 

“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy. 

Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.” 

Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves. 

It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in. 

But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed. 

It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for. 

“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?” 

You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.” 

“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was. 

And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events. 

Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.” 

Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others. 

“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink. 

San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder. 

With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle. 

Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining. 

Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself. 

The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole. 

Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st. 

If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave. 

It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses. 

He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours. 

He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did. 

You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.  

Whatever it was, you were conflicted. 

You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body. 

But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him. 

It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not. 

Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for. 

Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option. 

But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back. 

As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought. 

Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. 

You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast. 

Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would. 

By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well. 

You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own. 

But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way. 

But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum. 

You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other. 

But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.

In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain. 

All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage. 

You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker. 

Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!” 

Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree. 

The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit. 

You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible. 

Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face. 

“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.” 

Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes. 

You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement. 

“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.” 

Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them. 

“Thank you too, jagiya.” 

You just nodded, your heart cracking a little. 

But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way. 

But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out. 

You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung. 

After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. 

Your heart cracked again. 

Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious. 

Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.” 

“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle. 

“Just open it, please!” 

With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift. 

“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?” 

“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.” 

You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself. 

But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties. 

Or maybe even future restaurant dates. 

“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag. 

“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.” 

You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. 

“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again. 

“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul. 

He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates. 

“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him. 

“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.” 

You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom. 

Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, nae sarang.” 

Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa. 

You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.” 

It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes. 

“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung. 

“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again. 

“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it. 

Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him. 

“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.

“Them?”

“Yes, them, now go look!” 

Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. 

And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox. 

Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details. 

Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them. 

So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung. 

And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children. 

The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest. 

“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness. 

It cracked your heart all over again. 

With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms. 

You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there. 

How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it. 

But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time. 

But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever. 

You knew what it was. You knew why it was there. 

But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears. 

Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was. 

But not now. You couldn’t do it now. 

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little. 

“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke. 

You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you. 

In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it. 

“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.” 

You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands. 

You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again. 

It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies. 

A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain. 

The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect. 

Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect. 

“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real. 

Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.” 

“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it. 

“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else. 

But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace. 

It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony. 

You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours. 

But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain. 

If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you. 

And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds. 

There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving. 

When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body. 

You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide. 

The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years. 

But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful. 

“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.” 

Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day. 

The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again. 

But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through. 

It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age. 

But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head. 

An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold. 

Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion. 

Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing. 

“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater. 

“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss. 

“Be safe, nae sarang.” 

“I will, Eomma.” 

They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait. 

It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile. 

You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time. 

It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it. 

But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it. 

As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal. 

The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close. 

You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away. 

“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms. 

“I will. You too.” 

Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night. 

You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it. 

Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said. 

But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[wosowrites]

One Time Won’t Hurt (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️smut smut smut. like… loads of it⚠️

prompt: in which you and alexia try to convince each other that one time won’t hurt, but it doesn’t end up being one time.

a/n: this is so bad but i wanted to get something out for u guys

Bodies tangled, lips a mess, hands feeling, touching, exploring, hips grinding, loud moaning. And that was all before clothes even came off. "One time," you exhaled into her lips, pressing your foreheads together and letting your breath get mixed. "One time won’t hurt," she added, putting her hands on your ass and pushing you impossibly closer into her.

You audibly whimpered and then gasped as she started kissing your neck. Alexia moved aside the strap of your shirt and then your bra, kissing your shoulder.

You breathed out, digging your nails into her back and moaning into her ear. "Yeah. One time," your cried out.

Five hours earlier

Alexia, Mapi, Ingrid, Sandra, Patri, Keira and Lucy were sitting in your apparement, having wine, cheeses, charcuterie and other snacks. You were all talking, laughing and having fun. Only issue was your spanish wasn’t great and although you tried to concentrate and really understand what they were saying, you were mostly just exchanging lost looks with Keira.

Eventually, you got up and went into the kitchen to open another bottle of rosé. Keira followed suite.

"Jesus. I don’t know what they’re saying. I heard my name and they all looked at me and laughed and I did too but I do not know what they said," you sighed. "I mean we take spanish classes like three times a week and then in real life they talk so speedy it just-" you started ranting. "They said you were clumsy during training today," Keira said, popping open a bottle of champagne. "I was gonna open wine, and how did you get that?" you asked her, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. "Okay so maybe i’m becoming able to pick up sentences here and there…" she said. "No. No, no, I can not be the only non spanish speaker on the team Kei. I’m cutting you off from spanish lessons!" you groaned, walking into the living room.

You spent the rest of the gathering zoned out on Alexia. She was sitting with her legs slighting open and her arms crossed and all you could think about was how beautiful she would look in that position minute her clothing.

At 11:00, people started to leave which you were silently grateful as you were tired and honestly feeling left out even though that wasn’t the intention of the girls whatsoever.

You had moved to spain six months ago and had been playing for Barca since the January transfer window. You loved the style of play here and almost everything about it, but you did feel like an outsider.

You bid goodbye to the girls and then let yourself fall on the couch. You sighed heavily, your sigh turning into a tremble as you felt tears come to your eyes. Moving away from england had been harder than you anticipated. You heard movement behind you and shot up to your feet. Alexia stood in the doorway of the washroom. "Sorry, oh, everyone’s gone," she said, looking around. You swiped at your cheeks and nodded. "Uhm, yeah. Sorry I completely forgot you were in there," you said. "It’s okay, I ended up getting a call from Ona so I was in there for a while," she said. "Are you okay y/n/n? You look-"

"Spain is hard," you answered, not wanting to draw out the conversation longer than necessary. "What do you mean?" she asked, sitting down next to you. "I mean that I don’t know what you guys are saying. I pretend I do but I really don’t. And I feel like I’m not good enough to play here," you sighed, putting your head in your hands and resting your elbows on your knees.

"Don’t think that. You are one of the most brilliant players i’ve ever seen. And as for spanish, ditch your tutor. I’ll teach you for free," she said, brushing her fingers through your hair.

And then your feelings of sadness were gone and all you felt was an extreme need for Alexia to be under you.

You straightened up and looked into her eyes. And then you stood up and walked into the kitchen. You poured yourself a glass of water and downed it. Alexia stood up and gently walked towards you. Her movements were careful, calm and composed. But the last thing you wanted was careful, calm, and composed. You wanted loud, harsh and possessive.

So that’s what you did. You spun around and almost charged towards her. She looked taken aback but also turned on. You placed your hands on her waist and backed her up into the wall with a loud thud. You moved your hands up and down her hips before squeezing her waist. "Is this okay? Because I don’t want soft and nice. And if that’s what you want tonight I don’t want to push you," you said, looking into her eyes.

"Do whatever you want with me," she moaned.

Bodies tangled, lips a mess, hands feeling, touching, exploring, hips grinding, loud moaning. And that was all before clothes even came off. "One time," you exhaled into her lips, pressing your foreheads together and letting your breath get mixed. "One time won’t hurt," she added, putting her hands on your ass and pushing you impossibly closer into her.

You audibly whimpered and then gasped as she started kissing your neck. Alexia moved aside the strap of your shirt and then your bra, kissing your shoulder.

You breathed out, digging your nails into her back and moaning into her ear. "Yeah. One time," your cried out.

"Oh i’ll make it hurt," she whispered to you. And although her words made you want to scream of pleasure, you wanted to be in charge.

You lifted Alexia’s legs to wrap around your waist and carried her into the bedroom, attacking her lips and making sure to leave them bruised and swollen. You pushed your stomach against her pussy, wanting her to feel the temptation at her core before you gave her any kind of relief.

You dropped her on the bed and then towered over her. You took a pause to pull off the shirt you were wearing, never looking away from her. You looked straight into her eyes but she was staring at your and, your tits peaking through your bra and the way your arms looked so strong. A crack of thunder echoed outside and the brief thought of how Mapi and Ingrid, who had walked to your appartement, we’re probably stuck in the rain while you were standing over the most beautiful woman in the world.

You snapped out of your trance and looked at her hungrily. You un buttoned her shirt, wanting to be rough but knowing very well her shirt was silk and she would kill you if you broke it. Or at least that’s what you thought. "Fuck just rip it off. Rip it off y/n," she groaned. You did as she wanted, grabbing the shirt above the buttons you had undone and ripping it apart. She shrugged it off and you unbuttoned her pants and pulled them off. You then quickly abandoned your own pants and panties. You pulled off her own panties and then unclipped her bra and your own.

The sight of her was intoxicating. The shape of her breast, the little birth mark just under the left one. "You’re fucking hot," you growled at her. You were much more the kind of person to call girls beautiful but today was a different case. You had one night with her and you would make the most of it. Slowly, you placed yourself on your knees so that your core was over hers. You flattened your body on top of hers while supporting your upper body with your hands at her sides.

You started your attack on her neck by kissing it roughly, sucking it and then nipping at all her sensitive spots.

Alexia was a mess within seconds. Groaning at your touch and screaming when you would randomly collide your knee with her clit. Dripping all over her, you positioned yourself so that her left leg was wrapped around your waist and your pussies rubbed together. You slipped the slow stage and went right into grinding onto her. "Fuck, you’re so perfect," you moaned into her ear, feeling her nails digging into your back. "I thought you were going to be mean," she huffed, dragging her nails down your back. "Rough, not mean," you said to her.

With one last push onto her she came first, moaning your name and crying of pleasure.

You came soon after, your brain fuzzy, your body ecstatic. You didn’t want to push your luck with Alexia, so you let yourself fall beside her. "You okay?" you asked her, your bare chest heaving. "More than. Are you?" she asked. "So okay," you smiled. "I knew you were soft. You’ve always been soft," she said, turning on her side. "Maybe only for you," you giggled.

Needless to say, it didn’t happen just once.

[dazed--xx]

🌘Rewriting Destiny (teaser) 🌒

Member: Duke! Chan x reader

Word count: 813

Trigger warnings: ANGST, Death (FL), psychological, trauma, poisoning, parental neglect/abuse, arranged marriage, anxiety, Nobility, engagement at a young age, regression, murder, revenge, mentions of magic, PTSD, manipulation, regretful ML, Resentment, betrayal, classism, 17th century ideals, homophobia(mentions), SOME!historical accuracy, LOTS! of historical inaccuracies, BREAK UP!, grief, mourning, denial, failure to let go, etc…

A/N: so I'm still transferring this story from my notebook onto tumblr but I wanted to get y'all excited for the new story so here is a little teaser of the story and don't worry its not too big of a spoiler 😂🤪

The family she had married into had lost use for her...

Y/Ns blood ran cold as she came to the realization. The move to the annex, the maids becoming more and more ruthless, and the lack of guards around her annex becoming more frequent. Her time is slowly coming to an end. She wondered if there was a point to all of this. Would there be a point in running? Her mother would hunt her down and skin her alive if she did. ‘Die a respected Dutchess rather than run and be a divorced beggar’ she could hear her mother say. Y/N watches as the blue clear sky fades into a bright purple and orange hue.

A knock on her door pulls her attention away from her thoughts. “Yes?” She calls monotonously. “The Duke is in the receiving room, My lady.” Area calls softly. Y/N's eyebrows furrow in confusion. “My lady?” Area calls once again when she doesn't reply. “I-Im coming! I apologize, Aera.” Y/N replies as she shakily lifts herself from her seat. The whole walk to the receiving room Y/N worried.

Why was he here? He's never visited of his own accord. What could be happening? Would he cast her out himself? A petite hand grips her own pulling her out of her thoughts. Y/N stares at the owner, as Aera gives her a comforting smile. Y/N lets out a sigh, the butler pulls open the door. She hesitates for a moment, it had been a year—one full year, since she had last seen her husband. A lot could change in a single year. She feared how her husband had changed; it was never good for her. She entered the room, her heart sank into her stomach. There he sat, at the head of the room. A flurry of maids standing about waiting on baited breath for his every command. His hair was no longer the clean-cut style but overgrown, sitting raggedly over his forehead and disheveled. Evidence of his bath dripping onto his loose black shirt. He sat a scowl on his plush lips as he sipped his tea. “To what do I owe the honor, Your grace?” Y/N questioned monotonously. “Should I have a reason to visit my dear wife?” He states smugly as he places his tea on the table in front of him. “Especially when I do not receive her greetings after a year-long monster-hunting expedition and come to discover she no longer lives in the same house as me?” Y/N stares at him in bewilderment and confusion. “Your grace?” She stammered “Please, take a seat” He gestured to the loveseat in front of him, his face no longer containing any emotion.

Y/N sits nervously as she begins to question her husband. “I apologize, but what do you mean? I’ve received your letter and followed your instructions.” Chan furrowed his eyebrows as his ears perked up “What letter?” Y/N's attention is pulled away from him by the slight clink of a teacup being placed on the table in front of her. Y/N's eyes remained focused on the maid for a moment, she couldn't quite put her finger on it but something felt…off. “Have you gone deaf in the past 5 minutes?” Chan questions frustratedly. Y/N shakes her head taking hold of the teacup and taking a sip. “No, I apologize. I've not been feeling well today” Y/N states calmly. Her throat begins to feel a small burning sensation. “What letter? When did you receive a letter from me?” Chan asks stoically. Y/N coughs slightly “My apologies, I received your letter about one months time ago” She takes another sip of tea trying to alleviate the growing discomfort. Chan stares at her with his eyebrows raised “And you are sure it was addressed from me?” her throat begins to burn incessantly. Her eyes widen as her mouth fills with a coppery tast as she coughs again.

“My lady?!?!” Area exclaims worriedly “Y/N?!”

Only then does Y/N make the connection. The maid—She works in the main manor, and she’s Kari’s personal maid. Y/N stares at the teacup in her hand, dropping it in a panic. Her eyes meet Chan’s for a moment. He sat stoically, but his eyes never once left her. Y/N rushes to her feet, reaching out for her personal maid “Aera!” She calls. Her tone gurgles and hoarse as crimson cascades out of her mouth. Her legs give way beneath her as she feels arms around her. The room begins to grow blurry as she feels the life fading from her body.

No…No not yet, please God! Don't let me die! I didn't get away…I-I was never happy please! She prays God please let me be happy. “If I could do it all over again…Id have never married you. My biggest regret was walking down that aisle…” She croaks as everything fades to black.

Taglist: @yangbbokari @lovesunshinefelix @oddracha @msauthor @azazelstays @rylea08 @skzfelixlove @blondechannie @moonchildlv @kibs-and-bits @5starlee @pnutbutter-n-j-elyy @lizzetmv @hwanriri

[fuckinthewholetown]

Fallingforyou - Matty Healy Chapter One

I’m kind of shitting myself posting this but, it is what it is. If you think it’s shit, feel free to tell me, but please be nice or I will cry. I’ve also only skimmed over this so if there’s any typos, please tell me so I can fix this.

Tags: Slight angst, swearing, mentions of religion, gay, probably bad writing

Word Count: 2309

As much as you love touring, you’re the first person to admit it can get repetitive. Wake up in a random hotel room, get to the venue, sound check, perform, and repeat.

However, today is different. Today you’re performing a sold out show at Wembley Stadium to 90,000 people. This is the day you’ve dreamt about since you were five, giving one woman performances to your parents in your living room. And the cherry on top is you get to do it with four of your best mates.

Your day starts off as normal, doing your skincare routine in a hotel bathroom in the heart of London. You’re living the dream. That is until you hear a knock at your door. As you’re walking over to answer it, you pull your hair out of the makeshift pony tail it was in previously. Before you could fully open the door, it barges open and your guitarist and best friend Maddie O’Connell storms into the room.

“We need to talk.” She says, pacing back and forth.

“Ok, calm down. There’s absolutely no reason to be this stressed. Take a crystal.” You say, pulling some green agate out of your bra. You’re met with no response, just a deadpan stare. “Noted, not in a crystals mood. What’s up, this is the best day of our careers, it must be something big to get you this stressed.”

“You have to look me in the eye and promise that you’re not going to freak out” She says, sitting down on a seat in the corner of the room.

“I promise. Unless you’re shagging Matty Healy or Harry Styles, then I revoke that promise”

“Not exactly… It’s Ross” She says, refusing to look you in the eye. You stay silent, internally freaking out but refusing to break the promise you made to her. She takes this as you not understanding what she’s on about “Ross Macdonald… The bassist of the”

“Yes, I know who you’re on about!” You say, cutting her off before she can say anything else and send you into even more of a mental breakdown. You stand up, now it’s your turn to pace the room. “You’re fucking the bassist of my favourite band and you just conveniently don’t tell me until 5 hours before the biggest show of our careers? I love you to death, but you need to get better timing babes”

“I know,” she says, still refusing to make eye contact with you, “and we’re not fucking. Well, we are but it’s more than that. I like him, and I think he likes me.”

“How long?”

“Six months…”

“Six months!” This information is enough to stop you in your tracks, “you’ve been shagging the human equivalent of Jesus for 6 months and you forgot to mention it!”

“I’m sorry! I knew you’d freak out because you’re a big fan and I wanted to make sure it was serious before I got your hopes up. However, I’ve kinda been forced into telling you.”

You sit back down, confused over her last statement. “What do you mean forced into telling me? If one of the girls is secretly a bitch and forcing you into this, we can become a group of four. I’m a big boy, I can sing and play an instrument at the same time.” That half joke is enough to make her finally make eye contact with you.

“It’s nothing like that, the girls don’t know yet you’re the first person I told. I’ve been forced into telling you because they’re coming tonight, all four of them are watching the show.” And that statement is the straw that broke the camels back, you’re officially freaking out.

“What? They’re watching us tonight? All four of them are watching us? Oh god, I have to look Matty Healy in the eyes knowing I’ve read the dirtiest tumblr fanfiction about him. I read one of him as a priest, oh god I’m going to hell!” You say, putting your head into your hands. Maddie on the other hand does not see the seriousness of this situation and bursts out laughing.

“Him as a priest? Didn’t strike you as the religious type.” A chuckle escapes your lips as you finally return the eye contact.

“I went to an all girls catholic school actually, I love Jesus.”

“You came out of that school with minor alcoholism and even more gay than you were when you went in, I think Jesus would be disappointed.” She quips back. You laugh, standing back up from your slight mental breakdown.

“I’m happy for you, I really am. When are they getting here?”

“Just before sound check.”

“Before sound check?” You respond, falling back into your mental breakdown. “That’s in less than an hour. I’m meeting my celebrity crush and your new fuck buddy in less than an hour? Get the fuck out, I need to do a full face in 20 minutes!”

You all but push her out the hotel room, scrambling to get ready for the biggest moment of your life.

After somehow managing to do your hair, makeup, and put on a hot ass outfit in under an hour, you walked into the green room at Wembley Stadium. What met your eyes was what could best be described as a sight out of 16 year olds you’s wet dream. All four members of The 1975 sat around the table, gossiping about who knows what. As you walk in, the room goes silent. Luckily, your bandmates are there to quell the awkwardness. The pianist of your band, Sienna Turner is the first to speak.

“Boys,” She says, standing up and dragging you by the forearm into the circle, “this is Y/N!” You were expecting to be met with blank stares, but instead the boys jump up to greet you, tackling you into bear hugs. It’s a warm welcome off everyone. Well, mostly everyone. The man you’ve loved since you were a teenager stays sat in the corner of the room, closed off and refusing to even acknowledge your existence. You figure it’s probably just him being an introvert, so you go over to introduce yourself personally.

“Hey.” You say, hoping for any kind of response. You don’t get one. No acknowledgement, no hey back, not even a snarky comment, he just ignores you. This is not how you imagined this day would go.

“Damn,” you follow up, “I knew you’re an Aries, but I didn’t think you’d act so much like one.” You let out a slight chuckle. He, on the other hand, does not find this so funny.

“Good God.” He responds, rolling his eyes and taking another sip of his drink.

He hates you. The man you’ve been enamored by for almost 10 years despises you. The only possible explanation is he’s seen your private TikTok reposts of endless thirst traps of himself. Nevertheless, you had a show to do. And if there’s on thing you can do despite external feelings, it’s fucking shit up on stage. You nail sound check, sounding better than you ever have. Probably a mix of adrenaline and frustration over the fact that your childhood crush seemingly hates you for absolutely no reason.

You exit stage after sound check, immediately going back to the green room to get ready for the actual show. As you’re getting your makeup and hair done, conversation flows. You and your friends are talking to the boys as if you’ve been friends for years and you didn’t just meet them an hour ago.

“So, Y/N. You’re into like crystals and shit aren’t you? What’s that like, I don’t really get it.” George says, turning all eyes on you.

“It’s not for everyone, but I find comfort in manifestation and things like that. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think incense will cure cancer but keeping rose quartz in my bra definitely isn’t going to hinder my love life.” You laugh, trying to keep your response brief.

“Bullshit.” Comes from the corner of the room. The first words you’ve heard from Matty since your brief conversation earlier in the day. The room falls silent and you feel a red hue cover your face. The longer the silence, the thicker the tension in the air. You clear your throat, trying to restrain yourself from going over to him and giving him a black eye.

“Like I said, it isn’t for everyone. I was cleansing my room once and my mum thought I was smoking weed. When I told her what I was doing, I think she’d have preferred if I was doing drugs.” Everyone starts laughing and the room erupts into conversation again as if nothing happened. Every so often, you catch a glimpse of Matty in the corner of your eye. He never seems to move, his phone in one hand and a beer in the other. As you zone out of the conversation, your mind moves to deciphering why on Earth he could hate you so much. Nothing comes to mind, you’ve never met him before and you’ve definitely said nothing bad about him publically. Quite the opposite in fact, as last year a drunk video of you singing Robbers went viral on TikTok.

You zoned out for so long, before you knew it it was time to go on stage and perform the biggest show of your life.

“Ok girlies!” Ava Fletcher, the drummer in your band and also the member you’ve known the longest, speaks up. “This is it. No pressure but there’s 90 thousand people out there who’ve come specifically to watch us, so if we put on a shit performance our careers are probably over. But absolutely no pressure, just have a good show.” You laugh, leaning into the group hug you do before every show however this one felt different. The sense of adrenaline and fear within the group was unlike anything before. There was a lot riding on this show, and if you fucked it up a lot of people would be disappointed. However, all of these feelings are washed away when you’re wrapped into a hug by George.

“Blow their fucking minds out their.” He whispers into your ear. All feelings of nervousness are washed away when you realise you’re being hugged by the drummer of your favourite band. You go around, being given motivational speeches by every member of the band. Well, almost every member other than, you guessed it, Matty. He encouraged every member of your band except you, walking off before you could get to him.

The beginning of every show is always the worst. Hearing the roaring crowds increases your heart rate tenfold, but the stakes are even higher for this show. With one last group hug, you put your in ears in and run on stage, ready to start the show. As the show goes on, you occasionally glance side of stage to where the boys are standing. Everytime you make eye contact with them, they give you an encouraging smile or thumbs up. Matty on the other hand continues to evade eye contact, choosing to watch a different member of the band. However that didn’t stop you from putting on one hell of a show, and that’s what you did. You blew the metaphorical roof of that stadium, it was arguably the best show you ever did. The adrenaline high you had once you ran off stage couldn’t be ruined, even by a moody former celebrity crush.

The moment you exit stage, you’re immediately crushed by a massive group hug involving your band and the boys. Despite all of this, the only thing you can focus on is the hand around your waist. It’s Matty. You don’t think he meant it, instinctively putting it there when he was dragged into the hug. Nonetheless the area he was holding felt like it was burning under his touch, his calloused hands leaving marks on the skin underneath them. The group hug is cut short when he pulls away, clearing his throat slightly and going back to cradling his drink.

You do the rounds, talking to everyone backstage and discussing the nuances of the show and how amazing the audience were. This repetitive conversation continues until you get back around to him. You expect to be met with no eye contact, maybe an eye roll if you were lucky, but what happens next surprises you.

“You did alright out there, Princess.” The confusion on your face is palpable, at both the nickname and his sudden talkative nature. “Princess, like Princess Kida from The Lost City of Atlantis. It’s funny because,” you cut him off.

“Our band name is Lost Atlantis, yeah I get it. It’s funny.” You respond, a dead pan expression on your face. The tension was obvious, you could cut it with a knife. That is until Moon Dixon, your bassist, comes up behind you and wraps you in a hug.

“We’re all going back to Maddie's place to have a few drinks, you joining us?” She says, mostly to you but including Matty in the conversation as well.

“Yeah, let me get into something less sweaty and gross first though.” You laugh, trying to hide your disappointment as he walks off to join the rest of his band.

Get over yourself, you thought to yourself as you walked back up to your dressing room. Just because Mattys a dick doesn’t take away from the fact that this is the best day of your life. You just performed your biggest show ever, and three out of the four members are lovely. But despite this, you can’t get the curly haired man out of your mind. You see him every time you blink. How have you gone from badass pop girlie to pathetic simp in the space of three hours?

Chapter Two

[bosinclairsgff]

It’s been ages since I’ve requested any sort of thing but do you think you could do something where the reader finds a way to break out of the firefly house which leads to a whole chase scene with Otis? Love some dark stuff.

I loveeeee this!! Thanks so much for requesting!

I hope you enjoy what I did with this request! I tried my best, it’s maybe longer than you had hope but I was hanging fun haha! Much love xoxo ✨🫶🏻

Warnings : typical Rob Zombie violence, cussing, abuse

I had been trapped in the firefly house for over a month. The things I have seen and been put through are absolutely horrific. While being here Otis, as I’ve come to know him, and his sister Baby brought back a group of friends. They turned one of the men into a fish man hybrid. They made me watch as they brutally tortured him and murdered him. From what I could tell Halloween had come and passed in my time being with them. Baby had brought me candy one night when she had gotten back from somewhere. She and mama were the only ones to treat me sort of normal. Otis on the other hand, he made me sit in his room for days just watching him work on his “art” and listen to him rant about everything. Sometimes he’d forget to feed me and I’d starve for days. It’d take a yelling from Baby for him to remember. I don’t know why they haven’t killed me yet. I mean sure, they mentally and even sometimes physically abuse me. If I don’t say the exact thing Otis wants to hear he’ll take a razor and cut my arm or leg. I’m always getting yelled and or hit.

I’ve spent my whole time being here trying to find away to just get away from these people. Sometimes, Otis will untie me to go hangout with Baby or even to use the bathroom. He’d watch me use the bathroom but when I saw Baby it was just her and I. Depending on what time of day Otis let’s me go see her, sometimes she’ll fall asleep as I sit in her room. I knew that was my only chance. So, I waited, I waited until he was in a good mood and let me visit her one night. “Do you want to visit Baby tonight? I think you deserve a little vacation.” He chuckled at his wording choice. “Yes please Otis.” I whisper timidly. Otis nods in response, satisfied with my answer. It was only about 6pm when he asked me, I knew it was to early, and plus baby wasn’t even home yet. It was around 10pm when Baby got home, she clearly had been drinking. “Y/n!!! I hear we get to hangout tonight sugar. We should watch..um..a movie! Yes, a movie! A scary movie!!” She says stumbling around the room. Otis walks over to me, rolling his eyes. He unties me from the chair I was bond to. “I don’t want her to spend the night in there Baby, bring her back in a few hours, got it?” He barks at her. “Yes, yes okay whatever you say.” Baby respond while grabbing my hand to pull me away to her room.

She immediately sits me down on the floor and she takes the bed. Baby turns on the tv and finds a movie she’s satisfied with. Normally she’d let me sit on the bed and she’d brush and style my hair, tonight though she seemed exhausted. We sat there for about 20 minutes just watching the movie. When I looked up I found her fast asleep. I knew this was my chance. “Baby” I whispered slightly. I got no response. I slowly got myself up off the floor, I know I don’t have the best strength considering I’m starved most of the time. I just assumed adrenaline would kick in and get me out of this hell hole. I make my way quickly but quietly out of Baby’s room, down the hall and to the steps. I check my surroundings, making sure no one had noticed me lurking about. I take a my first step on the stairs, no sound, I take my next step, quiet creek. The third step I take gives everything away. I put my full weight down and a loud creek rings through the whole house. I can hear Otis’s footsteps getting close to opening his bedroom door. “Baby, is that you? What the hell are you doing. Don’t take her downstairs.” Otis yells. I waste no more time and book it down the remaining steps. I can hear Otis kick open his door and start running after me. “Get your sorry ass back here right now y/n!” He’s screaming through the house. I ignore his words and make it out the front door, it’s very late and I can barely see where I’m going. I just keep running as tears fly down my cheeks. “Run rabbit, run rabbit, run!” I can hear Otis not far behind me. I can feel him getting closer and I can feel myself getting extremely tired. If I can just keep going a little longer maybe I can escape him. Suddenly that thought is erased from becoming reality as Otis tackles me to the ground, I let out a loud scream. I immediately try to fight him off of me, kicking and hitting him as hard as I can. He struggles to hold my arms down but eventually he does. Both my arms are above my head being held down with what feels like all his weight. Otis’s legs are on either side of my hips. “You dumb fucking cunt. I let you leave the room and this is what you do in return. You are such a fucking idiot. I should have killed you the day I brought you here.” With that being said he takes one hand away from holing my hands above my head and reaches to his belt where he keeps his huge hunting knife. My blood immediately runs cold. Is this where it all ends? I was so close to freedom and now I’m going to be gutted alive. Before I can imagine even more awful ways he could kill me he has the knife to my throat. “I was starting to think maybe, just maybe, I could keep you around as my little pet. What a dumb fucking thought I’ll admit. You stupid bunny.” He smirks. “Please…please…Otis I’m sorry..I’m so sorry. I swear on my life I won’t try to run again. Just don’t kill me please.” I say as I feel the hot tears run down my face. He pushes the knife harder against my neck. Hard enough to draw blood, I wince and shut my eyes. “Look at me y/n.” Otis growls. I quickly open my eyes. “Please…” I whisper. He leans closer to me until our faces are pressed to each other, I can feel his breath on my lips. He smells like alcohol. “I’m so sorry” I whisper again. He gets back up and frees my arms, only to take his hand and slap it harshly across my face. I let out a loud shriek. Otis was still holding the knife to my throat, which cut my neck even more when he hit me. “You ever pull some stupid god damn stunt like this again y/n…and I’ll hang you up like a pig and skin you alive. You got that bitch?” He says while tilting his head to the side. I let out a soft sob and respond. “Yes! Yes I do Otis, I won’t ever do it again I swear. I’ll be so good I promise. Thank you.” I say just above a whisper. He’s satisfied and takes the knife from my throat. Otis stands up and reaches down to yank me up with him. It was a long walk back to the house. He dragged me by the hair the whole way. When we made it “home” he brought me back to the room and threw me on the floor. “Stay right fucking there.” He shouts.

Otis is gone for a few moments but comes back with a bottle of whisky and a bandage. “Lay down on the fucking floor and don’t make a sound. If I hear a peep I swear to god you’ll wish you were dead.” He states sternly. I do as he says laying on the dirty floor, I hadn’t noticed but my neck had been bleeding quite a bit. Without any warning he pours the whisky on my neck, I bite my lip until it bleeds as to not make a sound. He wastes no time wiping away the blood and whisky. When he’s happy with the cleanliness he wraps my neck securely. I can feel the tears once again falling like a waterfall. Ripping me from my pity party, Otis pulls me up from the hair putting me back in my dreaded chair. Tying my hands the tightest he possibly could. “Dumb fucking bunny.” He whispers in my ear.

[waliminium]

All That’s Left Behind

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, emotional strain/conflict Word Count: 2.3k Summary: After you walk away, Harvey is left to face the emptiness of his life without you. Months later, a chance encounter compels him to reach out, leading to a cautious journey of rebuilding trust. Slowly, Harvey learns to show up and fight for the relationship he once took for granted. Though the road is fraught with pain and uncertainty, hope emerges as you both take a chance on each other again.

The rain came down in sheets, slicking the glass walls of Harvey Specter’s penthouse and softening the city’s sharp lights into a blur. He sat in the dark, staring out at Manhattan, a glass of scotch dangling loosely in his hand.

It was almost laughable how much his life mirrored the storm outside. Chaotic. Relentless.

For the first time in years, the one thing Harvey couldn’t control wasn’t a hostile client, a legal loophole, or some rival firm.

It was you.

You were the only thing that had ever made him want to stop running, to stop being Harvey Specter, closer of deals and breaker of hearts. But even with you, he couldn’t stop the one thing he feared most. Losing.

You had been gone for three months, and the hole you left behind seemed to widen with every passing day.

The penthouse felt cavernous without you. He hated it. He hated the emptiness, the silence that seemed to swallow him whole the second he walked through the door.

He couldn’t bring himself to touch the things you left behind—your scarf draped over the back of the chair, the half-empty bottle of vanilla hand lotion on the bathroom counter. And your mug. God, that damn mug.

It sat on the kitchen counter, chipped and worn but untouched since the morning you left. It was a small thing, insignificant, really. But to Harvey, it was everything.

Some days, he’d find himself standing there, staring at it, his hand hovering over the handle as if touching it might bring you back. But he never could.

The fight—or rather, the end—was etched into his memory.

It hadn’t been loud or dramatic. No screaming, no accusations hurled like weapons. That wasn’t your style.

Instead, it was quiet. Painful in its simplicity.

You had come home late, your shoulders slumped with exhaustion as you dropped your bag onto the couch.

“You’re late,” he’d said without looking up from the case files spread across the dining table.

You didn’t answer right away. When he glanced up, you were standing there, staring at him with an expression that made his stomach twist.

“We need to talk,” you’d said softly, your voice steady but carrying a weight that made his chest tighten.

He leaned back in his chair, gesturing for you to sit, but you stayed where you were, arms crossed as though bracing yourself.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said.

At first, he thought he’d misheard you. “Do what?”

“This. Us. Whatever it is, we're pretending this is.”

His heart stopped, but he forced himself to stay calm. “What are you talking about?”

You laughed, but it was hollow, and it cut deeper than any words could. “I’ve been trying, Harvey. I’ve been trying to make this work, to be okay with how you live your life. But I’m tired. I can’t keep being the last thing on your list of priorities.”

“That’s not fair,” he said sharply, standing now, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You knew what my life was like when we started this.”

You nodded, tears pooling in your eyes but refusing to fall. “I did. But I didn’t know how much it would hurt.”

“Damn it, I love you—”

“No, you don’t.”

The words hit him like a slap.

You wiped at your eyes, your voice trembling. “You don’t love me. You love the idea of me. Of having someone to come home to when it’s convenient. But love? Love means showing up, Harvey. And you never did.”

He wanted to argue, to tell you that you were wrong, but the words stuck in his throat, suffocated by the truth.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you repeated, softer this time, and it was then that he realized you weren’t angry. You were broken.

When you turned to leave, he didn’t stop you. He told himself it was because he needed time to think, to calm down, but deep down, he knew it was because he didn’t know how to fight for you.

The first few days after you left, Harvey convinced himself you��d come back.

You always came back. After every argument, every tense moment, you’d find your way back to him. You’d walk through the door with that soft smile, telling him it was okay, that you could work through it.

But this time, you didn’t.

He tried calling once. Twice. But your voicemail picked up each time, and he couldn’t bring himself to leave a message. What could he say? That he missed you? That he was sorry? It felt hollow, insufficient.

He threw himself into work instead, taking on case after case, staying at the firm late into the night to avoid going home. But even the thrill of winning began to lose its edge.

Mike noticed first, his usual smirk replaced by concern.

“You look like crap, Harvey,” he said one afternoon, leaning against the doorframe of his office.

“Thanks for the observation,” Harvey replied, not looking up from his desk.

“Seriously. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

Mike sighed, his brows furrowing. “You know, whatever it is, you can—”

“I don’t need a therapy session,” Harvey snapped, cutting him off. “I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t fine.

One sleepless night, he found himself sitting on the floor of his living room, surrounded by the remnants of the life you left behind.

The scarf you’d forgotten in the backseat of his car. The book you’d been halfway through, a folded page marking your place. And your notes.

You’d always had a habit of leaving little notes around the penthouse—on the bathroom mirror, in his briefcase, tucked into his suit pockets. They were silly things, mostly. Jokes, reminders, affirmations.

But they were you.

He pulled one out of the drawer, the paper crinkled and worn from years of being shuffled around.

“Don’t forget to smile today. It looks good on you.”

His chest ached as he stared at the familiar handwriting, the words blurring as his eyes burned.

Time passed, though Harvey barely noticed.

He stopped going out to drink with the associates. Stopped caring about his reputation as the untouchable, unshakable Harvey Specter. He still won his cases—of course, he did—but the fire that once drove him had dulled to embers.

Jessica tried once to talk to him, her sharp eyes softening with something akin to pity.

“Whatever’s going on with you, you need to deal with it,” she said. “Before it deals with you.”

Her words haunted him, echoing in the back of his mind as he sat alone in his office, the city sprawling out below.

It wasn’t until he saw you again, by chance, that something inside him shifted.

You were outside a coffee shop, laughing with a friend, your smile radiant even from across the street. He froze, his breath catching in his throat.

You looked happy.

He wanted to turn around, to walk away and let you live your life without him. But then you looked up, your gaze meeting his, and the world seemed to stop.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then you nodded—a small, almost imperceptible gesture—and turned back to your friend.

Harvey stood there long after you disappeared into the crowd, his chest tight with emotions he couldn’t name.

That night, he wrote you a letter.

It wasn’t long, but it was honest. Raw.

“I’m sorry. For everything. For not being what you needed, for not saying what I should have said. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know.”

He left it on your doorstep the next morning, his heart pounding as he walked away.

Days turned into weeks, and Harvey told himself he’d done all he could.

But one evening, as he sat in his office, his phone buzzed with a text.

“We need to talk.”

For the first time in months, Harvey felt something close to hope.

The text was brief, no more than three words.

We need to talk.

Harvey had stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, rereading the message until the words blurred.

It wasn’t a declaration, a reunion, or even an olive branch. It was neutral, cautious. But it was enough to make his heart pound.

He didn’t reply immediately. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, second-guessing every possible response. Should he ask when? Where? Or would even that make him seem too eager?

Finally, he settled on something simple. Name the time and place.

The café was unassuming, a quiet little corner of the city that Harvey had passed by a hundred times but never entered. He got there ten minutes early, an uncharacteristic move for a man who was usually fashionably late to everything.

He didn’t know what to expect. Would you come in angry, demanding answers he didn’t know how to give? Would you be indifferent, already halfway to moving on?

When you finally walked in, he felt the air shift.

You looked… different. Not in the way you dressed or carried yourself, but in the subtle confidence you exude. You didn’t seem like the same person who had stood in his penthouse months ago, broken and pleading.

And yet, to him, you were still everything.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice steady but guarded as you slid into the seat across from him.

“Hey,” he replied, his hands clasped tightly on the table to keep them from shaking.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy, filled with everything unsaid and unresolved.

Finally, you broke it.

“I got your letter.”

He nodded, his throat tightening. “I meant every word.”

“I know.” You took a breath, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “That’s why I’m here.”

The conversation was careful at first, like stepping across a frozen lake and waiting for the ice to crack.

You asked about work, and he gave you vague answers, not wanting to burden you with the truth: that everything had felt meaningless without you.

He asked about your life, and you told him you’d been keeping busy. New projects, new people. You didn’t say much more, and he didn’t push.

But as the minutes passed, the tension began to thaw.

“I didn’t think you’d respond,” he admitted, his voice low.

“I almost didn’t,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “But then I realized I couldn’t keep running from this. From us.”

The word us lingered in the air, fragile and bittersweet.

Over the next few weeks, the two of you began to rebuild, piece by cautious piece.

It started with texts. Short, casual exchanges that slowly grew longer as the walls between you came down. Harvey found himself waiting for your messages, checking his phone more often than he cared to admit.

Then came the phone calls. They were awkward at first, filled with pauses and the occasional stumble over words. But as time went on, they became easier, more natural.

And finally, there were the dinners.

The first one was at a small Italian restaurant you loved, one he’d never gone to without you.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me again,” he admitted over a glass of wine.

You looked at him, your expression unreadable. “I didn’t. Not at first. But I realized something: I miss you, Harvey. Even when I hate you, I miss you.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “But you did. And if this is going to work, we can’t just go back to the way things were.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his tone almost desperate.

“Show up,” you said simply. “Be present. Be here, with me, instead of always five steps ahead or stuck in your own head.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening. “I can do that.” But promises weren’t enough, and you both knew it.

There were setbacks, moments where old patterns threatened to resurface.

One night, after a particularly long day at the firm, Harvey found himself canceling dinner with you at the last minute. The second the words left his mouth, regret settled in his chest like a stone, but he knew there was no taking them back.

Your silence on the other end of the line was worse than any angry response. Finally, you said, “It’s okay, Harvey. I understand.”

But your tone—it wasn’t bitter, and it wasn’t sharp. It was tired, resigned in a way that twisted something deep inside him.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, though he doubted his own words even as he spoke them.

“Sure,” you replied quietly, and then the call ended.

Slowly, he did.

He started leaving the office earlier, something that shocked even Donna. He’d show up at your place with takeout and an exhausted smile, but he was there.

You began to see glimpses of the Harvey you’d fallen in love with—the one who made you laugh, who challenged you, who made you feel like the most important person in the world when he actually let his guard down.

And Harvey began to see you too, not just as someone he wanted to keep but as someone he needed to fight for.

One night, months after you’d first agreed to see him again, he found himself sitting on your couch, his arm draped around your shoulders as you leaned into him.

“I never told you why I wrote that letter,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing against yours.

You tilted your head to look at him. “Why did you?”

He hesitated, his throat tightening. “Because I realized I’d rather risk you rejecting me than spend another day knowing I didn’t try.”

You didn’t respond right away, your gaze searching his.

“I don’t know if I can forgive everything,” you admitted softly. “Not yet.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he said, his voice steady. “I just want the chance to earn it.”

For the first time in months, you smiled—small, hesitant, but real.

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s try.”

And in that moment, for the first time in what felt like forever, Harvey felt something he hadn’t dared to hope for:

Peace.

[cumulo-stratus]

“Lend Me Some Vanilla?”

Pairing:spencer x Baker!reader

Description: Y/n goes to spencers house to ask spencer if he has any vanilla extract when theres a possible gas leak and no ones allowed to leave their aparment until the morning when someone can come check it out..

Warnings: fluff, one eensy weensy curse

Flufftober Day 14: Locked in/trapped

A/N: ik the "Gas leak" is shit but I couldn't figure something else out I'm sry guys😭😭

"knock knock knock" 

Spencers attention was pulled from his book by the sound a of a knock at the door. Wondering who it was- Spencer hoisted himself from his comfortable spot on the large leather couch to answer the door. 

“creakkk”

as the light of the hallway bled into the much more dimly lit apartment, a man in sweatpants, a white shirt that read “bad-ass baker” is a rainbow font (u know the meme font im talking abt), and an apron with bits of flower and egg splattered over it.

“hi im so sorry spencer- but i really need some vanilla extract- im on my last batch of cookies and i ran out. I would ask if it wasn’t super necessary but since i had to close my bakery because its under renovations right now, so to make money i’ve been doing orders and making them from home and i need to get these cookies done tonight im so sorry-“

“i have vanilla..”

spencer cut off his neighbors rambling, silently inviting him inside while he fetched the vanilla.

“thank you so much by the way, i can make you something as thanks!”

y/n stood awkwardly behind the couch, eyes surveying the room. spencers back was to the common area, his arm outstretched to reach the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. Spencers body language was comfortable, as he and y/n had been friends since he moved in 2 years ago, and he knew the baker well. spencer knew him as the neighbor with silly shirts and a bakery, and the neighbor that gave him the extras that didnt get sold at the end of the day in little plastic take out containers. 

“Oh no its okay the leftovers from your bakery are thanks enough”

spencer said with a chuckle, and y/n laughed too. And just as spencer was walking over both y/n and his phones dinged from the pocket of y/ns apron and the coffee table where spencer had left it when he got the door. Y/n pulled out his phone, seeing a text from the landlord. As y/n read his face fell, getting the attention of spencer and causing him to ask;

“What? Is something wrong?”

“check your texts- Larry sent something about how we cant leave our apartments..”

The look on spencers face was one of confusion, and he grew even more confused when he read the text detailing that no one was to leave their apartment- at any cost because of a possible gas leak, meaning they had to send people to check in the morning- but until then Larry didn’t want to risk it. 

“soooooo.. what do i do know?”

y/n looked to spencer for guidance, wondering what to do. spencer didn’t quite know either, but being the rule follower he is he decided the best course of action was for y/n to stay. He also knew the statistics of gas leaks and how dangerous they could be- so he wasn’t taking any chances. 

“well, i dont know how safe it is to be in the hallways right now, its probably best if you stay here until morning, or at least for a couple hours until Larry can get someone in here to check it out..”

now if this was most anyone else y/n would’ve just declined and held his breath while he walked the 10 feet to his door down the hall, but this was spencer. And much to no ones surprise, y/n had been crushing on the FBI agent from afar for 6 months now. He was in love with his style, his apartment (from what he’d seen), his face, his hair. Y/n had a tendency to romanticize things, just ask his friends, and this was the perfect opportunity. So when spencer proposed he stated over night just to be safe, y/n agreed almost immediately.

“ya i should probably stay the night, just to be safe you know? And by the way, if im staying over night do you mind if i put my apron in your kitchen? i dont wanna get flour on your couch…”

spencer chuckled and nodded, using his chin to point towards the kitchen where y/n could leave his dirtied apron. After y/n left his apron splayed out on the counter, abandoned spencer chuckled at his shirt, which was now visible. When y/n noticed spencers laughs he looked at him confused, following his line of sight, and he was met with his shirt. 

“oh ya- my shirt? i got it as a joke gift from a friend- and i couldn’t help myself”

they both chuckled at this while y/n moved across the room to join spencer where he had taken his spot on the large leather couch back. Y/n plopped down next to spencers, sitting as far away from him as he could without it it being awkward- or at least more awkward than it already was. because little did Y/n know but spencer had been simultaneously admiring y/n from across the hall. And when y/n suggested they watch a show spencer took the opportunity to do away with the awkward silence, suggesting Doctor Who. y/n almost immediately agreed, taking the remote from the coffee table and handing it to spencer to pull up the show. 

Once the show had started, the lights of the TV screen illuminated the room while spencer pulled a blanket out of a basket and spread it out over both y/n and himself. And unconsciously y/n scooted closer to spencer, hoping for more warmth from the soft throw. Or maybe more warmth from spencer, who knows..

After a couple episodes, y/n eyes were beginning droop as he had been up since 5 am, baking. Spencer- the ever profiler- noticed this. But despite the fact that y/ns blinks were gradually gaining length each time- he kept shifting a little bit, trying to get comfortable. And now if it had been a couple hours ago when y/n knocked on the door then spencer would’ve never done it, not in a million, billion years. But now they had been talking and watching their show for at least 2 1/2 hours now, spencer giving facts and corrections, y/n giving opinions, for the pair to then debate upon. And spencer felt confident enough to invite y/n to lean on him.

“ you know, if your tired.. then i dont mind if you wanna lay on me- you must be tired…”

“ya- how did you know..?”

Y/n’s voice was that of someone who was already half asleep, the constant sound of the tv lulling him to sleep before spencer could even answer. But spencer didnt mind- he loved admiring y/n, his face so incredibly peaceful. And he thought to himself, ‘the cookies can wait till morning’, before soon doxing off himself.

The End 

[cupidjyu]

hi my beloveds!

first of all, i want to say thank you so much for being here and always showing your love for a blog that i randomly started on a whim. it has grown into something that i’ve always held dear. i’ve learned a lot and also have been able to make so many kind friends!!!

but, i regretfully have to say that i will not be writing for this blog or be active here from now on :(

i’m happy that the fun has lasted as long as it has >_< please stay safe and healthy 💗 love you! mwah!

(under the cut) if you want a bit of an explanation:

i think the most important reason, is that i lack inspiration to write here anymore. i no longer find enjoyment in this writing style and i have not followed tbz for a while now, so the past several fics i’ve been going off blindly what i remember of them. to me, my best writing comes from my inspiration and interest. those things have not been present for a number of months, meaning if i were to be completely honest, i struggled to write a lot of my recent works.

therefore, i have decided this because not only do i lack the inspiration to keep this blog up and don’t feel satisfied with myself, but i also believe that if i did, i could not offer you my best and would constantly disappoint. maybe this is only for an indefinite amount of time or it may be forever, i’m not sure what the future holds. either way, i’m sorry but please know that i will always cherish the experience of this blog and of being able to interact with you!

[roomwithanopenfire]

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday everyone!! Thanks for the tags @blackberrysummerblog and @artsyunderstudy!!

This week I’ve done the big three: writing, editing, and ignoring my wips, with perhaps a bit more of the last one than I’d like. Most of my writing this week has been for an exchange fic for a different fandom, which I finally finished the rough draft of. Cue the celebration. However, even if I wanted to share anything from that, I can’t, it must remain hush-hush, but I am getting pretty excited to share it (and way more excited about receiving my own exchange fic back, this whole thing is very fun).

I’ve written less than 300 words on my COBB this week, and none of them are good, but I have gotten some editing done of Proof of Life. I can’t share any more snippets of the next chapter though because I’ve shared too much already. So instead, I figured I’d do a bit of a process post this time around, because I always love reading those. Check that out under the cut! (and i'm sorry this is long, i still have not learned brevity)

So my editing process isn’t too crazy, and is brought to you almost entirely by google docs comments. I also use the word ‘editing’ very loosely to encompass rewriting, revising, and proofreading. Sometimes editing means completely rewriting a scene/section, sometimes it just means switching around a couple of words or cleaning up a sentence. 

Mostly, I try not to take everything so seriously, because I know that I could edit something forever and ever and never post it if I let myself get too carried away. So I try to keep everything pretty chill. So here’s my steps I go through for each chapter that I edit. 

Step One: Reread the whole chapter. While I do this, I’ll leave comments on big picture things. “Maybe move this scene into the next chapter” or “The dialogue in this scene feels stilted” but I don’t add a lot of comments at this point. Once I’m done with this I’ll copy over any comments I had on the first draft or the beta reader copy over into the ‘draft two’ document. 

Step Two: COMMENTS. Again, my fics are brought to you by google doc comments. I like to go through from the bottom up, reading scene by scene and leaving comments on pretty much every single sentence. 

A lot of the time (read: most of the time) these are really vague like:

And sometimes these are more detailed like:

And occasionally these are compliments

Step Three: Once the whole chapter is filled with comments, I go through scene by scene (in whatever order speaks to me), and rewrite, edit, or fix sections. This part I find really fun, because I’m taking parts that aren’t good yet and I’m making them better. I love fixing things and getting rid of all the comments. It typically ends up being a lot of  rewriting, but I always finish a scene feeling better about it then when I started.

For example, here’s the draft one vs. draft two version of a snippet from the first chapter of Proof of Life. This is one of the scenes I pretty much rewrote. Others look a lot more similar to their original versions.

Original:

Edited:

Step Four: Then before I post a chapter, I’ll read through the whole thing and sometimes find smaller bits to fix. Then I’ll run it through a grammar checker and ignore half of their suggestions in the name of ✨style ✨.

Overall, I feel like I have a pretty basic editing strategy and I’m really pleased with it. Even though sometimes I feel like more robust edits would make everything way better, it’s a good mix of fixing things but not spending too much time on it. I remember I spent like a month on editing the very first fic I posted at that was only 6k words. If I kept doing that for everything, I'd never post anything at all. With fanfiction, I know that y'all will be nice to me even though it's never perfect <333

Tags and Hellos!! (I'm unsure if we still need the spaces, but i've been burned too many times lol)

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @m1ndwinder @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee

@onepintobean @prettygoododds @noblecorgi @hushed-chorus @angelsfalling16

@thewholelemon @monbons @shrekgogurt @brendughh @hertragedyconnoisseur

@beastmonstertitan @valeffelees @horsesarenotdeer @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs

@fiend-for-culture @rimeswithpurple @cutestkilla @alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife

@arthurkko @rbkzz @skeedelvee @bookish-bogwitch @brilla-brilla-estrellita

[lovetaroandtaemin]

A Bit of Fun

Jung Sungchan x Reader

Word Count: 3,622

This fic is NSFW! Minors DNI!

Content warnings: Smut (Unprotected sex, some dirty talk, biting, creampie, blowjob), Some angst, Sungchan is a tad possessive at the end, suggestive conversations. If there are any that I missed please let me know!

Author's Note: This fic was inspired by this ask that I got a few months ago. I'm so sorry it took so long for this fic to come out, but I hope that you like it if you're the anon that sent the ask! Even if you're not, I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it. Feedback is always appreciated! I also want to add that this fic is not beta read.

Fic is under the cut.

You were starting to regret going shopping with your best friend, Yeji, and her roommate, Miyeon. Yeji was insistent that she needed a new dress for her boyfriend’s party that night. In truth, however, she and Miyeon were trying to help you forget about your ex. The problem with that was that everything reminded you of Donghyuck. The dress that Miyeon had picked out was his favorite color. The shop’s speakers played your song. No matter what it was, every little thing made you think of the man that had broken your heart.

“(Y/N), are you coming to Eunseok’s party tonight?” Miyeon’s question pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, yeah, I am. I haven’t been out without Donghyuck in a while, it’s gonna be fun.”

“You should try to hook up with somebody,” Yeji interjected, “You know, get over Donghyuck by getting under someone else.”

“Yeji!” you and Miyeon said at the same time.

“What? It’s how I got over Jaemin. Plus, the guy that I ended up hooking up with was Eunseok. And now we’ve been dating for almost a year.”

“I have seen how happy Eunseok makes you,” you said.

“Just please be careful,” Miyeon added. “I know that you really wanna get over Donghyuck, but I don’t want you to get hurt. The guys you used to hook up with didn’t exactly have your best interest at heart.”

“Thanks, Miyeon. I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“I really hate to break up this sweet moment of my two best friends bonding, but if you’re going to the party tonight, you should also probably pick a new dress, (Y/N),” Yeji said.

“Good idea, I really wanna catch people’s attention tonight.”

After you picked a dress, Yeji dropped you off at home. As you started to get ready you decided to take Yeji’s advice. Your roommate was out of town for the week, so tonight was the perfect time to try to meet someone to have a little fun with. Hopefully, the extra care you took while doing your hair and makeup would mean that you’d catch the eye of a handsome stranger.

It took you longer than usual to get ready, so when you showed up at Eunseok’s apartment, the party had already started. You never liked being late, but tonight you didn’t mind since it seemed to work in your favor. All eyes were on you, and people liked what they saw. The bright pink dress you had bought earlier hugged your curves perfectly and showed off just the right amount of cleavage. Your makeup was simple but still flattered your features. The best part of your look, in your eyes, was your hair. It was styled in loose waves, framing your face.

It wasn’t a handsome stranger that caught your attention at the party. It was someone that you already knew. Well, you kind of knew Sungchan, but the two of you weren’t close. He was the drummer in Eunseok’s band. You had seen him around a lot going to shows with Yeji, but he never usually caught your eye. Tonight, however, he looked too good for you to not be interested. He was dressed casually, but it was obvious that he knew he looked good. His red t-shirt suited him perfectly, and the jeans he was wearing fit him just right. After staring at him for what felt like forever, you decided to walk over and strike up a conversation.

“Hi, Sungchan right? I’m (Y/N).”

“Yeah. I’ve seen you around before, you’re Yeji’s friend, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. She actually invited me tonight.”

“Well, I’m happy that she did, you look fucking sexy.”

“You don’t look too bad, yourself. Red is definitely your color.”

“Based on the blush on your cheeks, I’d say that red looks good on you too,” he said with a wink.

You smiled at the compliment and said, “Do you wanna dance?”

“Sure, lead the way.”

Grabbing his hand, you led him to where other people were dancing. You started to sway your hips in time with the song, and if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, he was extremely interested in the way you moved. He wrapped his arms around your waist and started to sway with you. It was obvious to anyone that saw the two of you that there was chemistry. He was looking at you like you were the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, and you were looking at him like nothing else in the world mattered.

After a few songs, his hands found their way to your ass, and you felt a shiver run up your spine. He leaned into your ear and whispered, “Do you like that?” You nodded, and he squeezed gently. The gasp that slipped out of your mouth made Sungchan chuckle.

You decided to return the favor by kissing him with everything you had. He let out a small noise of surprise, and when you pulled away it was your turn to laugh. The smile on his face when you laughed made your heart feel like it was on fire. You wanted him, and you wanted him now. So, you leaned closer and whispered, “We should take this back to my place. I think we’d have a lot more fun there.”

“What kind of fun did you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Well in that case, let’s go.”

You quickly found Yeji and Miyeon to let them know you were leaving with Sungchan. Yeji cheered, and Miyeon looked worried. You reassured her that you would be safe, and that seemed to make her feel better. Before you knew it you were leading Sungchan to your car, desperate to get home as soon as possible.

The drive back to your apartment was filled with anticipation, especially with Sungchan teasing you as you drove. He made comments about how seeing you so focused on driving was a turn-on, and how he couldn’t wait to see what you had in mind when the two of you got back to your apartment. His hand on your thigh also didn’t help with the arousal between your legs that was almost too much to bear.

When you finally got back to your apartment, you practically dragged Sungchan to your room. Once you were there, however, he took full control. Within seconds he had you pinned to your bed, his lips quickly finding their way to your neck. You let out a small moan, which only egged him on. After a few more minutes of teasing, he pulled away just long enough to admire the small hickeys left along your collarbone before he leaned in and kissed you.

His lips felt like heaven, and you almost felt like you could stay just where you were and be content. Almost. You could feel how hard he was through his pants, and it was starting to drive you crazy. Plus, it had been months since the last time you had been fucked properly.

“Please just do something already,” you whined.

“I am doing something, I’m kissing you.”

“But I want more.”

You didn’t need to say anything else before Sungchan pulled your dress off, unhooked your bra, and threw your clothes on the floor, Then he started kissing all over your chest, leaving hickeys wherever he wanted. You loved the feeling of his mouth on you, but you still wanted more.

“Oh my god, just fuck me already!” you cried out in desperation.

As soon as the words left your mouth, something snapped. Sungchan needed you, and he needed you now. He stood up just long enough to rip clothes off while you made quick work of the little clothing you were still wearing. Before you knew it, he was on top of you again. His lips found their way back to your neck, and he aligned his tip with your pussy.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, lifting his head so the two of you were making eye contact.

“I’m sure. I want you inside me.”

He gently pushed his hips forward, and you gasped at the feeling as you threw your head back. It took a moment for Sungchan to adjust to the feeling of your walls around his cock, so for a minute he was still. Then, he grabbed your chin, making you look at him as he started to thrust in and out.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans, Sungchan’s groans, and skin slapping skin as the two of you lost yourselves in pleasure. You had to admit, he was sexy like this. His mouth hung open, allowing you to hear just how you were making him feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, “You’re taking it so well, baby.”

You could only moan in response. Something about the way he called you baby turned you on more than it probably should have. This man knew exactly how to drive you crazy, and you loved it.

It didn’t take much longer before you felt a familiar knot in the pit of your stomach. Based on the fact that you could feel Sungchan’s thrusts getting sloppier, it seemed like his own climax was approaching as well.

“I’m close,” you whimpered.

“I know, baby, me too,” he said, “Cum for me.”

The moment the words left his mouth he pulled you into a kiss and you felt your orgasm wash over you. Feeling you cum around his cock triggered Sungchan’s orgasm, and all you could think about as you felt him unloading inside you was how badly you wanted him to do it again. You were far too tired for that tonight, however. Once the two of you came down from your highs, he helped you clean up and held you until both of you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you were startled to find another person in your bed. Then, you remembered the events of the night before and started to relax. You rolled over and looked at Sungchan as he slept, smiling as you remembered the way he had made you feel the night before. You couldn’t linger, however, since you had plans to get coffee with Yeji and Miyeon in an hour. So, you got up and started to get ready for your day.

Once you were done brushing your teeth, you returned to your room to find Sungchan getting dressed. For a moment you considered looking away, but considering you had seen everything the night before, you weren’t too concerned. When he turned around and saw you, he smiled and said, “What are you looking at?”

“You. Why? Is that a problem?”

“No, I was just gonna ask if you like what you see.”

“Was last night not enough of an indicator that the answer to that is yes?”

“No, it was, I just like hearing you say it.”

You rolled your eyes at that and decided to ask if you could see Sungchan again soon. He happily agreed, handing you his phone so you could put your number in. You sent him a quick text so that he had your number as well, then finished getting ready for coffee with your friends.

You and Sungchan ended up leaving your apartment around the same time. He left to go home so he could get ready for band practice with Eunseok, and you left for your favorite café. When you got there, you found Yeji and Miyeon sitting at your usual table discussing the party the night before. Miyeon greeted you when she saw you, and Yeji excitedly asked what happened after you left with Sungchan.

“I don’t know if I should say,” you mumbled as you remembered what had happened.

“Oh, come on, now you have to tell us!” Yeji said, louder than she should have.

“No, she doesn’t,” Miyeon said. “If she doesn’t feel comfortable with it you shouldn’t make her.”

“It’s ok, Miyeon.” You turned to Yeji and smiled, adding “I won’t go into detail, but I will say that you were right about getting over Donghyuck by getting under someone else. Sungchan is incredible in bed.”

Yeji cheered, and Miyeon smiled. Both your friends were happy to hear that you were finally moving on. Miyeon voiced her concerns about you getting your heart broken again, but you assured her that you weren’t looking for anything serious with Sungchan.

The three of you continued to chat and drink coffee until Yeji had to leave. After she waved goodbye, Miyeon turned to you and said “I’m happy to hear that you’re getting over Donghyuck. Just be safe, please.”

“You got it!” you said, pulling her into a hug. The two of you parted ways, and you got a message from Sungchan. It simply said, “We’re playing a show tonight, will you come?” You smiled and sent back a message promising to attend.

That night when Sungchan was preparing to perform, he was full of anxiety. Usually he had no problem performing, but he had to admit that knowing you were in the audience was making him nervous. He liked you a lot, and he really wanted to impress you.

You got to the bar with Yeji and Miyeon shortly before the show was about to start, and Yeji quickly found the three of you a spot near the stage. When Sungchan, Eunseok, and the rest of their band came onstage to perform, the crowd that had gathered erupted into cheers. Eunseok quickly introduced the band, then they started to play.

The second the show started; you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Sungchan. His charisma was already evident when he wasn’t on stage, but when he was on stage anyone that saw him could tell that he was passionate about music as well. He loved playing, and you loved to watch him.

When the concert ended, you quickly found Sungchan to say hello. The moment he saw you he grinned and asked what you thought about the show.

“You guys are incredible. It’s obvious that you love what you do, and your energy onstage is infectious.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled as he blushed, “you look good tonight.”

“Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Would you like to come back to my place? Eunseok is sleeping at Yeji’s tonight, so we’ll have the apartment to ourselves.” Sungchan could only hope that he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.

“I’d love to, I just need to let Yeji know since she drove me here.”

You quickly found your friend, letting her know that you didn’t need a ride home. She gave you a knowing smile and told you to have fun. Once the two of you got in the car, you felt a familiar tension. Based on how he looked at you when he parked, you guessed that Sungchan felt it too.

The moment you were through the door he pushed you against it and kissed you. After what felt like eternity, he pulled away for air. When he did this, he briefly let go of you, so you took the opportunity to drop to your knees. You looked up at him and said, “Can I?” He quickly nodded and started to unbutton his pants.

You gently moved his hands back to his sides and finished removing his pants and boxers. After ensuring he was ok with it once again, you quickly took him in your mouth and started to move your head along his shaft. He groaned and moved his hands to your hair, pulling slightly.

As you continued sucking his cock, it was obvious that Sungchan was enjoying it. He was quieter than the last time you had slept together, but he had started to gently thrust into your mouth. The more he reacted to your movements the more you realized you loved watching him lose himself in pleasure.

Eventually his thrusts got faster and sloppier. In response you decided to toy with him a bit, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. He let out a loud moan and tried to warn you that he was close. Before the words came out, however, he was cumming in your mouth, a combination of various swear words and moans of your name leaving his lips.

Once you swallowed all of it, Sungchan helped you off the floor and finally led you to his room. However, you decided to end your activities there for the night, instead opting to get to know each other better. You learned that his dream was to be a famous musician, and that his friendship with Eunseok went back to when the two were in elementary school. He learned that you had known Yeji basically your entire life since your parents were close friends, and that your dream was to own your own café instead of working in someone else’s like you had been. The two of you continued to learn new things about each other until you were too tired to continue talking, at which point you drifted to sleep holding each other.

For a while, this was your relationship with Sungchan. The two of you hooked up after every show, plus whenever one of you was lonely late at night. The arrangement was fine, but over time you started to want something more. Sure, Sungchan was incredibly attractive, but he was also kind, funny, and confident. You considered telling him about your feelings, but you didn’t want to drive him away if they weren’t reciprocated.

Then something happened that took you by surprise. It started just like any other time. You texted Sungchan asking him to come over. He did, and he fucked you until you could barely walk. Then came the aftercare. In the months since you had started hooking up, this had become your favorite part. He helped you get cleaned up every time you two slept together, no matter how tired he was after. Then the two of you settled into bed, and you talked about whatever silly things had happened that day. Except this time, before you could share your typical stories about work and spending time with Yeji and Miyeon, Sungchan said something that you never expected to hear.

“I think I want more than this.”

“What?”

“I want more than this. I don’t wanna just be the guy that you fuck when you’re bored. I wanna be able to call you mine.”

His words made your heart do backflips in your chest, and you were speechless. He actually felt the same way that you did.

“(Y/N)? Was that too much? I’m sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have said- “

“No, no, no, it’s ok, really. I’ve wanted something more for a while now, I was just surprised that you did too.”

“So, does this mean- “

“That I’d like to be your girlfriend? Yes, it does,” you said with a grin.

He smiled and pulled you into another kiss. This one, however, felt different. Rather than the lust that had fueled his earlier actions, this kiss felt full of love. You pulled away with a smile, then the two of you settled into a comfortable silence as sleep overtook you.

A few weeks after you and Sungchan made it official, you decided to go to the club together for a bit of fun after a difficult day. When you got there the music was blasting, and all you wanted was to drag your boyfriend to the dance floor. However, you were interrupted by an all too familiar voice calling your name.

“(Y/N), hi!”

You turned around and your expression changed to one of surprise upon seeing who it was. “What do you want, ‘Hyuck?” you asked.

“I just wanted to say hi and catch up. You look gorgeous tonight by the way.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile a bit at his words. You still hated his guts, but he had always been a smooth talker. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing a hell of a lot better now that I’ve run into you.”

Sungchan immediately wanted to beat the shit out of Donghyuck. He held back, however, because he refused to get arrested on your first proper night out as a couple. Donghyuck seemed disinterested in Sungchan, however, as he continued looking at you like you had come to the club alone.

“Would you like to dance?” Donghyuck asked as he held his hand out to you.

Before you could answer, Sungchan piped up and said, “She’s here with me, asshole. Go find someone else to dance with.”

“I wasn’t talking to you; I was talking to (Y/N).”

“I’m not interested, ‘Hyuck, leave me alone,” you said.

He scowled at you and walked away, finding someone else to flirt with. You turned back to Sungchan, but before you could ask him to dance, he asked “What the hell? Why were you smiling at him like that?”

“I was trying to be nice!”

“You were flirting with him.”

“No, I was not.”

“Then why were you looking at him like you wanted to fuck him?”

“I was just smiling because he said something nice! What is with you?”

“Maybe I just don’t like when my girlfriend is visibly interested in someone else.”

“Sungchan, I was not interested in him! Donghyuck is my ex!”

“Whatever, we’re leaving,” Sungchan said as he dragged you out the door of the club.

“Why are we leaving?”

“We are leaving so I can fuck you until the only name you can remember is mine.”

This was going to be a long night, but you were never one to complain about that. Seeing your boyfriend so jealous was hot.

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. If you're the anon that sent the ask, I am sorry that this fic took so long. If anyone reading this has a request, send an ask or a dm! I promise it won't take as long as this one did.

If you would like to be added to a taglist for new fics either comment, send an ask, or send a dm with the username that you'd like tagged.

I hope you liked the fic! Any feedback is greatly appreciated.