#THIS TIME HE WAS EATING A CORN DOG

[angelstrawbabie420]

whydo i keep having dreams of meeting snoop dogg 😭

[rizz-penguin]

Please free lunch. I'll pay for the sun chips and the cookie. I just want the free lunch.

[mewpre]

Since Corn Dog is a voracious eater (probably comes with living on the streets for who knows how long), we’ve always been a bit curious about how much he’d eat if he had access to as much food as he wanted.

Well, while I was out of town for the long weekend, my partner decided to find out. We use a 1/3 cup scoop for his kibble and he gets 1 scoop for breakfast and 1 for dinner, and apparently Corn Dog’s upper limit in one sitting is 6 scoops! He apparently just stops eating when he gets very full instead of gorging until he gets sick, so that’s good to know.

[azzibuckets]

them kissing at the top of the ferris wheel i BEG. and maybe throw in some angst if u feel like it, adding flashbacks to them doing this every year even when they were just “friends” or the line between friends and something else…?

state of us

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: i wrote this in one setting omfg so this is very unedited but i hope you guys love this just as much as i do!!! enjoy :)

word count: 2.6k

masterlist

August 2017

Azzi has always looked forward to the state fair; it’s one of the few times a year she gets to see her extended family in Minnesota and gorge herself on cookies and corn dogs and all the likes. But something about this year is special, and Azzi would be lying if she said it wasn’t due to the blonde girl whose hand she’s currently holding.

“I still can’t believe I’ve lived in Minnesota my entire life and I’ve never been here,” Paige marvels, jaw slightly dropped in awe as she takes in her surroundings. Azzi is usually like Paige, letting herself get lost in the exhilarating combination of the smell of greasy, buttery foods and the cheery sound of lively music and the smiles on everyone’s faces, but for some reason this year she’s fully and entirely captivated by Paige.

“It’s like the one time of year my parents let us eat whatever we want,” Azzi informs her friend, nodding towards her little brothers who are stuffing themselves with cotton candy. Her and Paige both look at each other and share a giggle before quickly averting their eyes. It’s a novel feeling, the butterflies in Azzi’s belly that erupt every time she holds Paige’s gaze for a little too long. It’s the same feeling she gets when their knuckles brush, or when Paige is being annoying and insists on putting her head in Azzi’s lap whenever they’re lying on the couch. And it’s a scary feeling, so far from what she feels towards all of her other friends, but it’s one that makes her lightheaded and dizzy in the best way possible, a feeling she desperately chases after.

Even now, Azzi tightens her fingers around Paige’s. Her palm is starting to collect sweat, but she prays to the gods that Paige won’t notice. She’s not ready to let go just yet.

Azzi clears her throat. They’ve been silent for a little too long, and the air between them is tense. “I buy a huge bucket of cookies every year,” she continues. “Maybe if you’re nice to me today I’ll let you have some.”

Paige scrunchs her eyebrow in feigned indignation. “I’m always nice to you.”

“Well I guess you gotta be especially nice today.” Then Azzi lets go of her hand, throwing Paige a wink over her shoulder before running to catch up with the rest of their family. Paige doesn’t have enough time to figure out what Azzi’s words mean before Katie starts calling for her too.

They’re in line for the ring toss when Jose pokes Paige hard in the back. The blonde whips around, ready to jokingly give the 11 year old a piece of her mind. But before she can even get a word out, Jose says, “That guy in the very back of the line wants me to tell you that he thinks you’re cute,” then skips away to find Jon.

Paige is confused. She glances towards the huddle of teenage boys 50 feet away and sees one of them, a lanky boy with a mop of unruly brown hair, give her a smirk. Cheeks hot, she turns back to Azzi. “Um,” she stutters, seemingly unable to find her bearings. The topic of boys has certainly come up in her and Azzi’s conversations before, but only when gossiping about their teammates or their friends. In the year she’s known Azzi, Paige hasn’t brought up a single of her own crushes, and neither has Azzi. It’s like an unspoken rule floating between them, a rule now irreparably broken by a boy too bold for his own good.

Azzi’s staring at the laces of her shoes. “You should go talk to him,” she says. She tries to keep her voice casual, calm, but she knows by the shift in Paige’s body language that it was too strained, too forced.

“Why?” Paige’s eyes are burning a hole into Azzi’s forehead. “I don’t even know him.”

Azzi shrugs, toes the dirt with the tip of her shoe. Her heart is beating erratically, and she doesn’t know why. “He thinks you’re cute.”

Paige takes another look at the boy. He is handsome, with striking blue eyes and dimples in his cheeks. But when she looks back at Azzi’s frowning face, she wishes it was her dimples that she could see and not his. “I don’t want to,” Paige says decisively, narrowing her eyes at the boy to show that she’s not interested.

Azzi’s head snaps up. “Why not?”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away. “I dunno. What if we hang out and he tries to steal my first kiss or something?“

Azzi’s body grows hot at the idea of imagining Paige’s first kiss. “Would that be so bad?”

“I want my first kiss to be special,” Paige responds. She takes in Azzi, who’s wearing a neon blue tank top and workout shorts. Her cheeks are a little flushed from the late summer heat. There’s a little curl of hair that escaped from her bun, damp from the humidity of the day. Paige wants to brush it behind Azzi’s ear. So she does. She leans forward and lets her thumb trail across Azzi’s cheek before swiping at the curl, moving it away from Azzi’s eyes. “I don’t wanna do the ring toss anymore,” she says.

Azzi swallows. “We could go on the ferris wheel?” she suggests timidly.

“Okay.”

And before she knows it, Paige’s hand is in Azzi’s again, the older girl letting the younger girl guide them through the maze of bodies. And although Azzi’s hand is a little bit damp and Paige has always hated sweaty hands, not for a single second does the thought of pulling away cross her mind.

Paige drops into the bench across Azzi’s, and the operator shuts the door behind them. The car rocks unsteadily, and Paige glances around nervously.

“It’s okay,” Azzi reassures. “These things are stronger than they look.”

“I hope so.”

Azzi cocks her head curiously. “Come sit with me.”

“Are you sure?” Paige asks tentatively. “What if it makes the car go off balance?”

With a roll of her eyes, Azzi gets up and plants herself next to the blonde. She rubs her hand across Paige’s back, noting the tenseness of her shoulders. “Are you scared right now?” Azzi snickers.

“No!” Paige says defensively. “I’ve just heard stories about fair rides.”

“I didn’t know you were a pussy.”

“Shut up,” Paige demands, but she finds herself leaning into Azzi’s touch. She blames it on her slight fear of heights, but deep down she knows it’s because she’ll never be able to get enough of Azzi.

“I didn’t like it,” Azzi confesses after a brief moment of silence. “Knowing you could’ve left me to hang out with some guy.”

“I would never leave you.” Paige’s eyes are bright in the falling light of the evening, and they hold a promise that Azzi doesn’t yet know will stay true for the rest of their lives. But for now, the soft way Paige is looking at her gives her the boldness to say, “I haven’t had my first kiss either.” She drops her hand from Paige’s back. “I’m too scared.”

“What’re you scared of?” Paige’s voice is barely a whisper.

“That I won’t like it. That they’ll be too rough. Or they’ll say I’m a bad kisser.”

“They?”

Azzi looks down.

“I like girls too.” The words take a second to register in Azzi’s brain, but when they do, she feels defensiveness rise in her chest. “I never said I liked girls,” Azzi said, her voice holding slight traces of panic.

Paige’s lips twist in a frown. “It’s not wrong to like girls.”

“I know, I just….”

“It’s my first time saying it out loud.” Paige cracks a smile. “If that makes you feel better.”

Azzi lets out a breathy laugh. “It’s just hard to tell, sometimes, ya know?”

“I know.” Paige worries her lower lip nervously. “But maybe I could help?”

Azzi’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Like…I could help you confirm whether or not you like girls?” Paige sounds uncertain. “And then…and then your first time wouldn’t have to be with some random asshole.”

Azzi stares at her best friend. She flips Paige’s words over in her brain, trying to make sense of it all. “You want me to kiss you?”

Paige looks flustered. “I don’t want you to. I mean, I don’t not want you to, I just-,” she closes her eyes briefly, taking her time to collect her thoughts. “I’m just offering to. You know? I wouldn’t mind. That way my first kiss can be with someone I trust too.”

Paige waits patiently for Azzi’s response. Her knee’s been jiggling against the hot metal of the bench, but the weight of Azzi’s hand from where she’s now placed it on her thigh quickly stops her movements.

Before her doubts can stop her, Azzi leans in, placing a hand firmly at the back of Paige’s neck. She presses her mouth to Paige’s, letting it linger there for a few seconds before pulling away. “There,” she says shakily. “Our first kiss.”

Paige stares at Azzi, dazed, both of them silent and still as the car slows to a stop, back at the bottom. Azzi realizes that she’s forgotten to take a picture of the sunset at the top like she’s done every year. She wonders what she’s gonna say when her mom asks about it later. Fear creeps into her heart as she realizes the gravity of what they’ve just done. It’s hard to make sense of the rapid beating of her heart, the fresh memory of Paige’s lips molded so perfectly against her own, with the growing panic in her chest that nothing will be the same ever again.

The operator opens the door. “You girls enjoy the ride?” he asks, a smile on his face.

Azzi climbs out in a rush, brushing past the operator without saying a word. Paige takes her time, picking up the water bottle that Azzi forgot and clutching it to her body. “Thanks,” she says tightly to the operator as she exits.

“No problem. Hope your friend feels better. The ferris wheel’s feeling a bit rockier than usually a lot today.”

It takes every bit of strength in Paige to not start crying right then and there.

August 2018

Paige has spent every day of the last year thinking about that kiss on the ferris wheel. And now that, almost exactly a year later, she’s in the car again, surrounded by the intoxicating scent of Azzi’s perfume, she can’t help but think about what Azzi’s hands would feel like tangled in her hair.

When Azzi looks up from her phone and meets Paige’s eyes, she knows there’s no use to try and wrangle any self control out of her body. Forcing herself to sit across from Paige instead of next to her this time doesn’t work. Within moments, she’s across the car, her hands on Paige’s waist. Her lips brush ever so gently against Paige, and she pauses, waiting for the blonde to stop her. When she doesn’t, Azzi swipes her tongue gently across Paige’s bottom lip, and this year their kiss lasts just a little bit longer.

August 2019

“I’m not gonna kiss you.”

Azzi has a date waiting for her at home, a handsome football player who she’s been texting all summer.

Paige looks at her coolly. “Okay.”

They’ve been tense all day. Their parents think it’s the heat wave combined with the stress of school starting. Paige wonders what her dad would say if he knew it was because she’s been thinking about the ferris wheel all day, a mix of dread and anticipation pooling in her stomach.

They’ve spent the entire ride sitting across from each other, their knees just barely touching. And kudos to them, they are better this year - they almost make it the entire ride.

But just 15 feet up from the ground, Azzi is on Paige’s lap, and she doesn’t know how she got there, but she’s not complaining, not when Paige is whimpering against her mouth like this.

They break apart when the operator opens the door, both of their chests heaving, neither of them daring to look at each other.

“This is the last time,” Azzi swears.

“The last time,” Paige repeats.

August 2020

Paige almost didn’t make it this year.

She should be at UConn right now, prepping for her first day of college in a few days. But one text from Azzi, one word saying Please, and she’d bought a plane ticket to Minnesota.

This time, Paige is the one to cross the boundary. This time, Paige fists Azzi’s shirt in her hand and pulls her into a searing kiss. Paige hasn’t said goodbye yet, but she hopes that the way she cups Azzi’s face in her hands and presses their lips together is enough.


Paige pulls away. She doesn’t know she’s crying until Azzi’s wiping at her tears with her thumb.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Azzi whispers.

They’ve spent almost half a year together, starting from when Paige moved in with the Fudds to train during lockdown. She’d stayed for most of the summer too, basically living in Azzi’s skin until her dad had forced her to return home.

“Come to UConn,” Paige urges.

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

Azzi leans her forehead against Paige’s. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

August 2021

“We’re gonna look so good on the court together.”

Azzi laughs, poking Paige’s cheek affectionately. “You’re insufferable. I’m gonna get so tired of you.”

“Oh yeah?” Paige presses a kiss to Azzi’s cheek, then begins working down her jawline, her lips burning into Azzi’s skin. “You’re gonna get tired of this?”

Azzi arches into Paige’s touch. “Paige,” she pants.

“Does this count as following our tradition?”

“You gotta kiss me on the mouth,” Azzi, always a stickler for rules, insists, but when Paige’s lips move downward to suck that sweet spot on her neck, she quickly shuts up.

August 2021

“I’m not letting you forget this time.” Paige nudges Azzi with her camera.

“Kiss me.”

Paige obeys.

They spend the rest of the ride arguing over who gets to keep the polaroid.

August 2022

Azzi kisses Paige. It’s short and sweet and all too reminiscent of 5 years ago, when they were young and dumb but still in love.

“Marry me?”

Azzi shoves Paige. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“I mean it. Don’t say it unless you have a ring.”

Paige’s eyes are hopeful. “So you’d marry me?”

“I’ve been willing to marry you since we met, you idiot.” Azzi kisses Paige again, and this time they’re smiling against each others lips.

August 2023

“I’m starting to think your NIL money is good for nothing.”

“Didn’t I just buy you a corn dog?”

“I still don’t see a ring.”

Paige rolls her eyes and shuts Azzi up with a kiss.

August 2024

“One more year, baby.”

“Stop reminding me.” Azzi turns away from Paige, her face pulled into a pout.

“It’s gonna be our year.” Paige nestles her chin onto Azzi’s shoulder. “Best backcourt duo in the nation.”

“Don’t jinx us.”

Paige wiggles her fingers into the younger girl’s ribs. “Stop being so negative.”

Azzi laughs, a beautiful sound Paige has memorized for years now. “Kiss me and maybe I’ll stop.”

Paige’s lips are familiar to Azzi. But Azzi wants more. She wants Paige, all of her. Paige needs to hurry up and buy that damn ring.

August 2025

Azzi: Missing you

Azzi: Attachment: 1 Image

Paige: screw this game

Paige: i swear i’m buying a plane ticket rn

Azzi: Stop, your team needs you

Azzi: Save me that kiss for later

Paige: i love u more than anything else in this world

Paige: so much more than basketball

Paige: i will literally leave this locker room rn all u gotta do is say the word baby

Azzi: Don’t worry, I’ll eat enough cookies for the two of us

Azzi tucks her phone into her pocket, stares out the window. Recently the homesick ache in her heart has become more familiar than the feeling of Paige’s lips, and she hates it. This next year of getting used to long distance will be the hardest year of their relationship so far, but she knows it’ll be worth it.

August 2026

She knows it’ll be worth it because Paige finally bought the goddamn ring.

“Will you marry me?”

Azzi sinks into Paige’s arms. 10 years.

“Fuck yeah.”

They kiss.

[impalanna]

Title: Foggy Windows Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Warnings: Mentions of violence, swearing, p in v, smut, dirty talk, SO MUCH SMUT, name calling, rough sex, Dean using you Summary: You and Dean go on a hunt together. You two don't even get to the location where the hunt is without having to pull over and, you know. Authors' notes: For @shadysoulangel :) This is based off of an imagine that I did (click here to access) I hope you guys enjoy! ;) Word Count: 2,837k

Dean rubbed his eyes, not ready to go out on this hunt but wanting to get out of the bunker for a little while. He was pent up, in every since of the word. You were asleep beside him, which made him look down at you and smile. He loved waking up before you did. It meant he could look at how peaceful you are, curled up beside him. He adored you.

You always knew when eyes were on you, even when you were sleeping. It always woke you up when someone was watching you. You stirred awake, meeting Dean's eyes. "You watching me sleep, perv?" You giggled at him, getting on your knees to lean up and kiss him gently. "What? You gonna watch me shower, too?" You asked him in the sexiest tone you could muster up.

"Damn right I might, sweetheart." He smirked at you, eyeing you in his old T-shirt and your underwear. He is so goddamn hot. You thought to yourself as you went into the bathroom and closed the door, taking off your clothes.

You slipped into the shower and began washing your body, the thoughts of how tense Dean seemed when he was hunting taking over your mind. You wanted to get him to relax, to breathe for just a minute, but he isn't going to listen to you if you ask him to take care of himself. So you had an idea. You would take care of him, in the only way he'd let you.

You knew it was summer and it was hot, so you could get away with wearing your shortest shorts without making it seem like you were trying to get his attention. You smiled to yourself as you moisturized and then went to your closet to pick out your top. You knew just the one. It was black, which was Dean's favorite color on you, with a low cut neck and it was cropped. Perfect for staying comfy and perfect for getting him to focus on how bad he knows he wants you.

You walk out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, down the hallway and into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were eating their cereal and drinking their coffee. He saw you, and choked on his corn flakes. Sam gave him a confused puppy dog head tilt and then turned around to see you, then rolled his eyes. "Can you guys get a room?"

You smirked to yourself as you went to the cabinet to get a cup. There were cups already out, but you loved how cute they looked turned upside down beside the coffee maker so you never messed with them.

"Morning." Sam said in a yawn, his head in a daze due to the lack of sleep. "No breakfast?"

"You know I never eat breakfast, Sam." You said in a happy tone. You were telling the full truth when you said that.

"Oh yeah… guess I forgot." He said slowly again, watching you make your coffee to your liking. "Hey, we've got a hunt but I'm going to see a friend, you think we can take it on with Dean? It's about a day's drive from here."

"Sure, that's fine." You smiled at Sam, "Who's your friend?"

"Uh, no one, just, uh -"

"He's gonna go get laid." Dean cut him off. Sam shot a look to Dean that would kill if it could. "What? She's no prude." Dean said in defense of himself.

"Oh hell yeah, Sam! You go! We'll take this hunt, we need some time alone anyways." You looked at Dean and said, "let me go grab some stuff to take on the road." And left the two brothers with their thoughts.

"Mhm, yeah sure, princess." Dean didn't think you could hear him but you did, and goddamn did it put fire in your veins to hear it.

Damn you loved it when he called you princess. He knew that, too.

You hopped into Baby as you took your bag off your back. You knew exactly how you were going to get him to break for you. He was going to fuck you like he hasn't fucked in years.

Dean gets into the Impala, his eyes trailing your whole body as he sits down. He was primarily focused on your chest. You were playing on your phone but you knew exactly what he was doing, and you knew what you were doing, too.

"So what kinda music are we listenin' to?" Dean asked about a minute into the drive. His voice was, if you had to put it in a word, dark. You didn't say anything but you pulled out a tape he made you a few years ago. He labeled it "foggy Windows" because when you guys would have sex in the Impala, the glass would fog up.

He smirked at this. "What are you tryin' to do, sweetheart?"

You didn't say anything again as you slid the tape into the player and let it play. You smirked as "She brings me love" came on. You leaned close to Dean, facing him with a huge ass smile on your face.

"You need it, sweetheart? You baitin' me?" His voice was low as he slid his right hand up your leg. "I wouldn't be mad."

"And what if I am?" You asked with a smirk. "Maybe I'm just that horny for you."

The tires squealed as he came to a hard stop. "Say it again. Tell me how much you need me to fuck you." His voice was shaky as he spoke, his eyes wondering from your lips to your chest.

"Dean I need it so bad, baby. I need you to fuck me." Your face was going red under your makeup, as it did you thanked yourself for putting it on this morning.

Dean pulls Baby into the closest empty parking lot.

"Good girl. You're so good for me, doing what I tell you to do." He smirks and shuts the engine off. You could tell how hard he was just by looking at him. His cheeks flushed, his jeans a little too tight, and he had an adorable smirk on his face.

"I can be even better." You said slowly. You had no idea where your confidence was coming from but you were just glad it was there for you when you needed it.

"Get in the back." Dean demanded you, "Don't open the door to get back there. I want you to climb over my seat. Just don't damage my headliner." He said sternly.

"Yes, sir." You said as you climbed over his seat, making sure you purposefully put your ass in his face as you did so, which made Dean slap your ass as hard as he could. "Good girl."

"You're so good for me, princess." You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

Dean opened the door and climbed on top of you, closing the door behind him. He immediately looks down at your chest. "Goddamn, baby, I know why you wore this shirt." He said, grinding against your leg.

You smirk and bite your lip, "Yeah? You like it, daddy?" You ask as you squeeze your boobs between your arms, making them almost pop out of your shirt.

"Fuck, (y/n), you have no idea." He says as he starts kneeling them through your shirt. " I've been wanting this for a while." He says, leaning down to suck on your neck.

You gasp at the feeling of him all over you like this. 'Since I've been loving you' by Led Zeppelin starts playing in the background, making you moan. You knew that when this song was playing, Dean was going to fuck you good. it wasn't because you two were "together" or whatever. He really did love you, with everything he had. He told you one time on a hunt, a hunt that almost killed you. And he knew damn well that you loved him with everything you have too.

"Dean, please, baby. I need it so bad. Need to bounce on you." You wanted to ride him so badly.

"Oh, fuck, sweetheart, You want to bounce on my cock, baby? You want to make me cum for you?" He moaned in your ear, damn near panting because of how bad he needed you.

"Yes, Dean, please." You beg him, hoping he'd give into you. But he didn't.

"Sweetheart, you know I love to please you, right?" He asked breathlessly.

"Yeah baby I do, why?"

"Because I'm not going to give into you. I need to let off some steam. I need to have you the way I want you right now. I need you to be a good little slut for me." He was so fucking needy, and fuck, it turned you on.

You couldn't say anything to this, but you nodded your head. At this he slid off your shorts and threw them into the front seat.

"Baby, no underwear?" He asked, it coming out as a praise rather than a question.

"Yeah baby, all for you." You couldn't help but sound desperate. You needed him, bad.

"God, you're such a good little slut for me." He growls into your ear, his hands roaming around your body until he meets your clit.

"Fuck, fuck yeah Dean I'm your slut." You moan as he rubs circles on your clit, almost pushing you off the edge.

"You're so wet for me too baby, must really want me." He grunts as he sucks on your neck, close to your earlobe.

Dean couldn't hold back anymore. He was so hard his jeans were hurting him. He slides his jeans off and pulls his shirt over his head and he strokes his cock a few times while looking down at you. "So fuckin' gorgeous, (y/n)." He moans as he strokes himself, precum leaking from his tip.

Dean positions himself at your entrance. He looks up at you, and you know how good he's about to fuck you. He slams into you, and you pull him down onto you. Your name falling off his lips like sin. "(y/n), you're so fuckin' tight for me, baby. Feels so damn good."

You loved it when he'd talk to you like this. It would send you over the edge. You dug your nails into the skin on his back as he slammed into you, not giving you any time at all to adjust to his huge size. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you let him rail you, moaning into his ear, "you fuck me so good, this pussy is all yours, Dean."

"I know she is." Dean said, as skin was hitting skin, the sounds of this filling up the Impala. The windows fogging even though it's a billion degrees outside, which Dean was a saint to leave the ac on because of this.

The way he would refer to your pussy as "she" instead of you, always made you feel, weird, but good. You loved it when he said this. Part of you thought it was because you liked the way he didn't look at you as just a sex outlet. Yeah he loved your sex but he loved so much more about you and valued so much more of you than that. And even after all these years, after all the sex you guys have had, you're still amazed that he thought this way.

You clenched around him when he said this to you, your legs wrapped around his waist as he rode you out. "You better wait and come for me, sweetheart. I'll tell you when you can come." He purrs into your ear,

"Yes, sir." You moan in response. He slows down and gets off of you, changing things up and doing exactly what he's been fantasizing about doing to you.

Get on your stomach, baby." He demands, but there was always a tinge of gentleness in his voice when he took control like this; unless he was mad at you.

You nodded and got on your stomach.

"Good girl. Now bring your knees to your chest, princess." This was hard but it wasn't the first time he's made you do this. "Yes, daddy." You responded.

"Good fucking girl. Now, arch that back for me and spread those sexy ass legs." He moans. "Oh and put your hands behind your back so I can hold onto them." He smirks.

"You do as your told, after bringing your legs to your chest you arched your back and spread your legs. Dean puts a thumb into your asshole and starts to pound into you again, not letting you adjust this time either.

"Ohhh fuck, such a good slut. You're such a good little slut for me, aren't you princess?" He asks breathlessly, his thumb in your ass making your head spin. "You like it when I fill you up like this? Both your holes filled up by me, (y/n)?" He was so fucking close and it was obvious.

"Yes, daddy I LOVE it when you fill me up like this. You fuck this tight little pussy so good, I'm your little slut." You are screaming at this point, his cock slamming into you so hard you almost forgot where you were. The only thing that was on your mind right now was Dean.

Dean pulled out quickly and sat down on the leather seats, looking at you and panting. You looked so disappointed it was adorable. "Did you cum?" You asked, hoping he didn't yet. You liked to ride him when he and you both came, and he knew this.

"Bounce on me. Get your fine ass over here and ride daddy's cock, you slut." Dean demanded, his eyes dark with lust.

You didn't hesitate. You took your shirt off that you've been wearing this whole time and you hopped on him, sinking down on him. "Fuck yeah, so tight for me and I've been using you for over an hour now, baby. Your pussy is perfect." You smirked at this and started riding him, rolling your hips and moaning his name.

"You're perfect, sweetheart, All of you is perfect. Every last inch of you, (y/n)." He moaned as you rolled your hips faster. You took your bra off and threw it in the front seat. You then grabbed the top of the bench seat behind Dean and started to bounce on him, your tits making a slapping sound on your skin every time they'd come back down to reunite with the soft skin under them.

Dean was losing his mind. Your body moving like this on him, how tight you are, the sounds you were making, the way you looked riding him, he was lost in you. He was in a daze. You leaned forward to kiss him gently. You were so close and he was too. He grabbed your ass and started fucking up into you. "You like that, sweet girl? You like it when I grab your ass like this and pound you?" He moaned into your ear as he took control yet again.

"Yes daddy I do, please fuck me harder, I'm gonna cum." You moaned loudly as he pounded you relentlessly.

"So fuckin' good for me, slut. You better come for me, bitch. Cum all over my cock, (y/n). I wanna feel you squeeze me." He demands behind clenched teeth.

You didn't hold back, you let out moan after moan, begging him to fill you up, telling him his cock made you feel like a perfect little slut. “Mmmmmm, Dean you fuck me so good.” You moan as you’re looking at him, his eyes locked on yours and a sexy fucking smirk playing on his face.

Dean pulled you off him and threw you onto the seat. He was careful to make sure your head wasn’t going to hit anything before he threw you. He quickly got between your legs. "Wanna watch your tits bounce like this while I fuck you, sweetheart." His movements were powerful and sloppy. He was moaning your name, pinching your nipples, and fucking you; hard. Harder than he ever has.

You scream his name, holding onto the edge of the seat for support. You are bouncing and moaning, your breasts moving all over the place as his cock pounds into your dripping wet cunt.

"So pretty like this baby." He moans and grabs your neck gently. He moans your name, "Fuck I'm gonna cum for you, sweetheart. Gonna fill up your perfect little pussy." He grunts loudly, his grip on your neck tighter now. He cums deep inside of you, his dick all the way into you, reaching your g-spot. "Ohhhh yeah baby, fuck yeah that's good, Fuck I'm cumin'" He moans as he spills deep inside of you, his thrusts slowing down as he empties himself.

"I love you, baby." You say breathlessly.

Dean leans down and kisses you, soft and slow. "And I can't live without you, baby." He says, panting.

[lenislenii]

𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐂

Author's note: Boothill won the last poll so i'm gonna post some Headcanons of him, next will be Sunday ♡

NSFW AND SFW

SFW

- We all know Boothill can't feel any type of touch besides his face, so when he wants attentions he bumps his head against yours to feel anything

- Since his a cyborg i dont think he got nails strong enough to open like a chip bag for example so he opens plastic bags with his sharky teeth

- He clearly boughs Teddy bears to remind him of his little girl

- Talking about his little girl the "scarf" on his back is much likely something she wore

- He loves when you braid his hair

- He takes you on trail rides with his favourite horse

- If his girl was still alive she would put makeup on him and dress him like a princess

- His a galaxy ranger so most of his time his away from home, he is the type of man that would send you good morning and good nights texts while his away

- talking about texts he would send you big texts about how he loves you

- Bring you roses when his over with his work

- And you scold him for coming home hurt or something

- He is a dog person

- He loves eating apples or putting corn on his teeth

- He smockes alot but in case you hate it he will avoid smocking close to you

- He hates loud noises

- Big spoon

"Babe i bough this roses for you"

NSFW

- Hear me out, it vibrates he loves when you ride him and he makes it vibrate while it's inside

- He can't curse so when he tried to do degradation with you it turns into soft sex 😭

- He loves eating you out since he cant feel anything, he makes sure to act like a starved man

- Somehow i love who made his body, that waist...you love grabbing it and he blushes everytime you do it

- He is a big softie when it comes to sex, he puts your pleasure above his

- However when his stressed forget it babe you are not walking for a week

- More of a service Top

- He hates when you use toys, you should use his dick only!!

- He is afraid of hurting you, you gotta tell him you are not made of plastic

- However when he let's you dom, he is the one that gotta tell you that he is not made of plastic

- He probably makes dad jokes while pouding into you

- Aftercare is his top priority he wont go anywhere until you have taken a shower, eaten and drank water

- You use red lights and much likely a Chase Atlantic song to get him on the mood (it works)

- He can breath and you get turned on by it (i do)

-He hand feeds you after you two are done

- cuddles with you afterwards and if in case he has to leave in the morning for work he leaves cute notes on the fridge ♡

♡ Reposts are appreciated!

[libraryofolive]

candy please!

featuring: Modern AU!Husband!Suguru Geto x fem!reader

genre: fluff, drabble

word count: 1.2k

synopsis: You and your husband decided to take your twin daughters trick or treating for the first time.

part two of spooky section, my 2024 Halloween event!

Nanako and Mimiko coming into yours and Suguru’s life truly was a blessing. The two young girls had fitted into your lives so seamlessly that sometimes you couldn’t even remember what life was like without them. So, when it came to their first Halloween with the two of you, you knew you had to make it special.

The idea for your family costume came quickly and easily, straight from the girls’ current favourite TV show. Suguru had taken some convincing - “but they’re dogs,” he had protested - but one pleading look from you and his daughters had any other objections dying in his throat.

The lead up to final day of October had been full of many other Halloween traditions: you had carved pumpkins (only slightly destroying your kitchen whilst doing so), taught the twins how to bob for Apples, and even taken the girls to a corn maze. But what everyone in your household seemed most excited for was the promise of free sweets in the form of trick-or-treating.

You and Suguru were stood in front of the girls, who were sat on your kitchen island, various different colours of face paint and cheap make up strewn all over it. The two of you had yet to do your own make up, deciding it would be easier to quickly do it yourselves whilst your little rascals got themselves into their outfits. Said rascals were giddy with glee, large close-lipped grins taking up most of their face as you painted Mimiko orange and Nanako was being painted blue by your husband.

“How much candy do you think you girls will be getting tonight?” You asked the two as you gathered more orange onto your sponge.

“Millions!” Nanako squealed in reply.

“Millions? You’ll still be eating it when you’re on old granny!” You joked.

“Yeah, you’ll still be eating it when you look like Uncle Satoru.” Suguru joined.

“Is Uncle Toru really an old granny?” Mimiko asked quietly.

“Mhmm - Nana, I need you to stay really still for this bit - yeah Mimi, Satoru is really old.” You looked over at Suguru to see his tongue peeking out of his lips slightly as he coloured in the tip of Nanako’s nose with a black pencil.

“How old is he?” The currently half-orange Mimiko asked.

“96.” You responded, a sly smile gracing your lips. You would be visiting your husband’s best friend later, and couldn’t wait to see what this conversation brought.

“Wow, that is old.”

“Oh yeah, you should ask him what life was like before cars.”

“He’s older than cars?” a gob-smacked Nanako gasped.

“Oh yeah.” Suguru agreed, “he’s like, super ancient.” There was a pause, “Right, you’re all done Nana, go get your costume on. Be careful of your make-up though!” He lifted the girl off the counter, and as soon as her feet were on the ground she was sprinting off to the costume neatly hung up in her room. Mimiko was soon following her, scurrying off to complete the transformation into her favourite cartoon animal.

You and your husband sat down at the counter, picking up hand mirrors and sponges to start your own make-up for the evening.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into this.” The man next to you sighed as he rubbed blue paint into his cheeks.

“As I recall, there was no talking needed. All we had to do was unleash the puppy-dog eyes.”

“Fitting, really.” You hummed, focusing more of your energy on perfecting the brown spot over one of your eyes. “You’ve really put a lot of effort into this.”

You sighed, “I mean, I just want them to have fun. And you know I’ve always loved Halloween.”

“The amount of costume parties you’ve dragged me to since before we were together speaks volumes in that regard.”

“Exactly. I just want them to love it as much as I always have.”

“Have you seen how excited they are for this? Honey, you go so above and beyond for our girls. They love you so much. And your enthusiasm has always been infectious.”

“What do you mean?”

“Babe, Halloween was always neither here nor there for me before we met. It was mostly just Satoru using it as an excuse to eat bucket-fulls of sweets and get himself shit-scared at some crappy horror movie. Then I met you, and all of a sudden I couldn’t imagine not dressing up, or going to a party, or even carving a pumpkin.”

“Don’t you dare make me cry my make-up off.” You threatened at his heartfelt words.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He stood up, officially finished with his make-up. “I’ll go see how the girls are doing.” He kissed the top of your head as he made his way out of the kitchen.

“And get your costume on! I want photos together before we head out!”

You pulled up to Gojo’s house, his being the test-run for the girls’ trick-or-treating. You had decided to trick-or-treat around his outrageously wealthy neighbourhood, and he had even offered for you all to stay at his home afterwards (although you and Suguru theorised it was an excuse to convince your daughters to share their stash of candy with him). You got the girls out of their booster seats and walked them to the front door, explaining what they should do.

“You shout ‘trick or treat!’, okay?” The girls looked at each other and nodded, before yelling it at the top of their lungs.

“No, sweethearts, you do it after he open the door, okay? How else will he know its you?” Suguru said through chuckles. He knocked on his best friend’s house, the door swinging open rapidly.

“Candy please!” The girls exclaimed, holding out their little pumpkin baskets to Gojo. You shook your head, half sighing-half laughing, whilst Suguru let out a roar of laughter. Nanako wandered straight past Gojo, as if to go and make herself at home, Mimiko trying to drag you with her as she followed her sister.

“You’re the family from Bluey!” Gojo said excitedly, looking at all of your costumes.

“No, Nana, Mimi you can’t just go into random stranger houses-” You rushed after your daughters, ignoring the white haired man completely.

“But he’s not a stranger, he’s Uncle Toru!” Nanako yelled from the sofa, where she had made herself comfortable.

“Yeah, but we’re going to lots of people’s houses tonight, and you can’t just walk in, okay?”

“Maybe we should try that again…” Suguru suggested from the doorstep, where he was still stood with his best friend.

“Good idea. Okay, girls, come with me.” They took your hands as you led them back outside, Gojo closing the door after you.

“Remember, you say trick or treat when he opens the door, okay?” Suguru said as he knocked on the door.

“Okay!” The two kids chorused. The door swung open once again to reveal Satoru Gojo.

“Is it true you’re older than cars?”

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

[bamfkeeper]

Sweet Iced Tea.

RQ: 'Could I give you a penny for your thoughts on nightcrawler with a southern s/o. I’m from the deep south and He Is So Dear To Me. I just wanna feed him and make him go horseback riding with me.' - @leon-de-la-vega

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader | Warnings: None

A/N: Half my family comes from the south, so I get this hard. Written as headcannons because this idea can be so versatile. Please ignore mistakes it's 4am ;; Dankeee

Kurt is very interested in your lifestyle. He grew up in a circus where the animals were kept in poor conditions and abused, so when he hears about you taking care of animals he is very intrigued.

He's a little nervous, not sure what to expect, but upon seeing your horses and how you treat them, he's pleasantly surprised.

"Mein Gott, they are so shiny," Kurt pets one of their manes, grinning at the horse.

He would adore horseback riding, he'd be a little skeptical at first. He'd be afraid to make the horse uncomfortable, or doing something wrong, but you promise him everything is fine and you both end up having a lovely ride.

There is a joke to be made here...

He helps with the animals if you need it, and he gladly lends a hand around the farm if you have one. Helping clean, feed the animals, collecting tools or following you around like a puppy to aid in anything you ask.

He'd love the food. He eagerly asks questions about the foods you eat. He loves corn and potatoes, since German meals are often hardy, it's not much different.

Brisket?? God he loves it. Sometimes he helps you cook too, but he mostly likes to watch while holding your hips.

You have a game where you hold up ingredients and he says their name in German. You try to repeat it, often mispronouncing, but he doesn't have the heart to correct you.

He tries on your hats and clothes, which are too big on him, but he's absolutely adorable in them.

He has a hard time learning the lingo.

You have to explain to him the terms since English isn't his first language anyway, and some terms in English confuse him. Now hearing Southern ones further makes it difficult for him to understand.

"Liebling...what does druthers mean? I cannot find it anywhere..." Kurt frowned, looking to you with confusion. "Und dog won't hunt? Dogs do not hunt, they eat inside? They are not wolves anymore."

His first time trying sweet iced tea, his eyes about bug out. Especially when you made it fresh. "Ach, das ist wunderbar!" Kurt practically downs the glass, looking expectantly for a refill.

He loves when you fuss over him. It can be over anything, a wound, what he's wearing for the weather, how much he's eating, etc. You fuss over him so lovingly, it's how you show your care and he is more than happy to sit and be the center of your attention.

Kurt gets used to the unique scents of your lifestyle too, and eventually he seeks out smells of your home and you to feel comforted when he's at the mansion.

You're kind and respectful as you were raised, and he is drawn in by your warmth and generous hospitality. You are so hard working and loyal, you never expect anything back for kindness.

You had so many traits he adored, and it only made him love you even more.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedbylight

Forgot which comic this image is from, please let me know! Other photos from pinterest.

[jakeshands]

WIKIHOW: to unlove heeseung lee

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis: how to unlove heeseung lee. a comprehensive guide written by lily morrow. step #1: tell him, to his face, you don’t love him. step #2 — there’s no step number two. lily got distracted. now its up to you. how does one fall out of love? a story told in two acts

genre: crack, comedy, romantic comedy, fluff, lots of silliness, slight teacher au/new girl au if u squint, lowkey unreliable narrator

featuring: enhypen, lily of nmixx, yunjin of lsfm, jeongin of skz, beomgyu of txt, ningning of aespa, wonyoung of ive

warnings: lots of kys jokes/humor like a lot😭, loads of profanity, loads of sex jokes/mentions of sex, a joke about christian guilt and cathliocism, lmk if i missed any

word count: 12.6k

author’s note: look. i just started writing. sorry. incredibly unedited and dont take this seriously PLEASE😭😭😭😭

Act I: I loved you from the start.

[SCENE: ENGAGEMENT PARTY, 6 PM]

A gentle pink cascades across the sky. You exit the restaurant, the excitement of the engagement party seeping out of you as soon as the door shuts. One of your college friends, Chaeyoung, is finally engaged to her high school sweetheart. You remember receiving the news from Chaeyoung over the phone. She sounded ecstatic, and so were you. 

A gentle breeze blows through the air and it pushes your hair back softly. You swing your black handbag and hum the rhythm of a song you can’t quite remember under your breath. You pass by a convenience store and you double back deciding to enter the store. 

Greeting the worker, you rummage through the selves and find snacks for yourself and your roommates. Home run balls, corn chips, and tiramisu. You pick out a bag of tiny animal-shaped cookies for yourself. After buying the four items, you exit the store and continue your journey back home.

With a heavy exhale, you unlock the door to your apartment and with one hand gripping the doorknob, you begin to undo the straps of your heels, hobbling into the apartment. Loud sounds of sobbing and sniffling fill the apartment, and after finally sliding off your heels, you glance up at the scene in front of you. 

Sitting on the sofa and watching the end of the Titanic were your roommates. A pile of tissues sat in the center of the coffee table, and bowls of discarded ramen lay on the floor. Jay was sobbing loudly into the bright pink pillow you picked out when you first moved in, Sunghoon was blowing his nose over and over, and Jake was hugging his dog, Layla, whom he somehow managed to sneak into the apartment when he first moved in. 

“Y/N!” Cries Jay, noticing you. “You’re back!” 

Sunghoon blows his nose. 

You hold up a small plastic bag. “I come bearing snacks.” 

Jay sobs harder. “You’re the best girl friend we’ve ever had.” 

You smile. “I better be.” You had out the snacks you bought for each boy; home run balls for Jake, tiramisu for Sunghoon, and corn chips for Jay. “Also, didn’t we ban Titanic from our apartment? Last time we watched it, you three didn’t speak to each other for a week.” 

“We did,” Sunghoon agrees easily. 

“...So why are you watching it?”

“Ask Jake,” Sunghoon points at the boy still sobbing into Layla’s fur. 

“I’m fine….he’s obviously going through something.” 

“Rosie!” Jake wails loudly.

“That’s not even her name, Jake,” Jay scowls. 

Jake responds with another loud sob. Rolling your eyes, you open up the bag of your animal-shaped cookies and walk through the living room to reach the kitchen. You throw your handbag on the counter, and then shriek loudly when you catch sight of another body in the kitchen. 

“Y/N?” Jay calls out, his voice not as shaky as it was before. “Is everything okay?”

You poke your head back into the living room and scowl at the three boys, and one girl  -- Jake insists everyone references Layla as a ‘girl’ and not a ‘dog.’ As you can tell, Layla is the only girl in his life aside from you and Lily Morrow -- sitting on the couch. “Why is he in our kitchen eating our food?” 

“The couple he was rooting for on Love Island got voted off, or something like that, and he needed some Boy Time,” Sunghoon answers.

“And he came here? Instead of slipping into Jeongin’s room and getting stoned?”

“He needed an emotional connection,” Jay says after wiping his snotty nose with your pink cushion. 

“Jeongin is a very emotional guy,” you refute. “He is very in touch with his feelings, unlike the three boys I live with. And the one in the kitchen. I would like one of you to tell him he needs to leave.” 

“Why can’t you?!” Jake wails again. “We’re all emotionally devastated at the moment!” 

Sunghoon and Jay nod, agreeing with Jake’s words. You scowl. “Last time I talked to him I got a rash and a head cold. I can’t get sick.” 

“You work with kids who refuse to cough into their elbows. Of course you were going to get sick,” Jay rolls his eyes. “Just talk to him.” 

“No!” You whine petulantly, resting against the doorframe. “Please. Don’t make me talk to him.” 

“I have a name, you know,” a gentle voice says from behind you, and you shriek, stumbling away from the doorframe and into the back of the couch. The gentle voice laughs loudly, and standing in the doorway to the kitchen, in all his glory, is Heeseung Lee. His silver hair somewhat shines beneath the orange-toned lighting, and his mouth curves up into that stupid heart smile of his. 

“Monster!” You shriek, pointing at Heeseung, who is eating a donut from the box you brought home earlier today. “There’s a monster in my apartment! Jay, quick, get him out!” You punch the apartment’s self-proclaimed black cat in the arm, to which he hisses. No surprises there. He spends too much time around….do you dare say it……Jungwon. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Y/N.” 

“And you need to leave.” 

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you need to buy me another box of those donuts you’re eating.” 

Heeseung looks down at the box he is holding and then looks back at you. He shrugs. “How much was it?”

“Seventeen dollars.” 

Heeseung raises his eyebrows. “You bought a box of donuts for seventeen dollars? Twelve donuts for seventeen dollars?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” You frown. 

Heeseung sighs and finishes the last of the chocolate donut he’s eating before rubbing his now free hand against his forehead. “You give me migraines.” 

“Good,” you respond. “Now get out.” 

Heeseung pouts, “do you not care about me?”

You shake your head. “No, not really.” 

“We’ve spent our whole lives together, and this is how you repay me?”

“Get out or so god help me,” you scowl. “I will choke you out again.” 

“Again?” Sunghoon asks in surprise. 

“Yeah, Y/N choked Heeseung back in middle school,” Jay says as he scrolls through the illegal movie website for another movie to watch. “Ooo, Shape Of Water sounds cool!” 

“A mute girl falls in love with a fish, Jay,” Jake responds. “I didn’t know you were into bestiality.” He then holds Layla closer to him.

“Who’s Chaeyoung engaged to?” Heeseung asks you, picking up another donut with pink icing and white sprinkles. “I got an invite from her, but it clashed with Love Island.” 

“You are not changing the subject on me,” you snap. “And you can find out tomorrow. At school. Now get out of my apartment and stop eating my donuts. Why couldn’t you have gotten stoned with Jeongin? Or played guitar with Beomgyu or -- or visited Jungwon.” You shudder at the thought of the younger boy. 

Heeseung laughs. “You still find Jungwon scary?”

“For many reasons!” You defend. “He thinks he’s a cat, he bit me once, and he threatened to hunt me down and kill me if I ever managed to hurt Jay.” 

“Is that why we never hang out one-on-one?” Jay asks you, now looking up the emoji movie on the illegal website. 

“Yes.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Sunghoon pipes up, helpful as ever. 

“Yeah,” Heeseung agrees with Sunghoon’s words. “It’s a skill issue. Maybe you need to level up --”

You whack Heeseung with the bright orange pillow Sunghoon picked out when you first moved into the apartment together. “I still don’t understand why all those girls fawn over you. Even now! You’re a fucking middle-school teacher yet girls still stick to your sides like leeches. What do they even see in you?! Do they know you used to pick your nose and wipe it on the nearest body to you, which always happened to be me? Do they know you scratched your balls and then ate all my McDonald’s Chicken Nuggets once?” 

“What does me scratching my balls and eating your chicken nuggets have to do with anything?”

“You didn’t even bother to wash your hands after getting a good scratch!” You exclaim loudly, whacking Heeseung with the pillow again. “Stop eating my fucking donuts!” 

Layla barks loudly and leaps off the couch, running for the bathroom. “She needs to pee,” Jake announces, standing up, “I should go help her. You know, potty training and all that.” 

You groan and hold your head in your hands. “Why did I decide to move in with Incel #1 Incel #2 and Incel #3?” 

“Hey! I am not an incel!” Sunghoon exclaims. “I get laid!” 

“Sure you do,” you respond, not believing a word Sunghoon just said. “Explain to me why Wonyoung said you chickened out last time things got steamy between you two?” 

“Incel means involuntarily celibate. Me choosing to not be intimate with Wonyoung doesn’t count as involuntary because it was a conscious decision.” 

“Umm actually…” Jay mimics in a high-pitched tone and pokes his index finger in the air. “You’ve been dating for like five years dude, there’s no time like the present.”

“Fine,” Sunghoon snaps. “I’ll go over there right now and do the dirty.” Sunghoon snatches up his phone from the coffee table and immediately calls Wonyoung as he walks over to his bedroom. “Wony, hey,” his voice suddenly adopts that adoring tone he uses whenever Wonyoung is around.

“Finally,” Jay mutters, “I’ve had to listen to him complain about his performance fears for years. The world doesn’t understand how hard it is for men -- oh my god I sound like Jake.” 

“....I’m gonna head out now. While I wish I could stay and watch whatever is currently happening, Yunjin just sent me an SNS text.” Heeseung says. 

You turn around to find that, somehow, Heeseung has eaten all twelve of your donuts, and at this point, you don’t even care. You’re too exhausted and confused and just concerned for the three boys you live with to even whine over Heeseung eating the only edible thing in this apartment. “SNS? What does that mean?”

“Sister Needs Sister.” 

“What?”

“SNS means Sister Needs Sister.”

“Sister Needs -- okay whatever I’m not gonna question whatever weird thing you have going on with Yunjin. Just get the fuck out of my apartment.” 

“Yes Ma’am,” Heeseung tips his imaginary cowboy hat at you and finally exits the apartment. Your shoulders slump and you throw yourself over the back of the couch, landing awkwardly on your neck as Jay cackles loudly at something on his phone. 

“I don’t want to go to school tomorrow,” you whine. “I haven’t even finished typing up Friday’s lesson.” 

Jay ignores you, still cackling at something on his phone. Jake shrieks his dog’s name loudly in the bathroom and something falls over in Sunghoon’s room.

++

It’s 6:30 AM when you enter your classroom. You have an hour until students begin to fill the school and while you always tell yourself that today will be the day you actually wake up early enough to get to school at 6:00 AM, it never happens and you’re left with an hour to get everything prepared for the lessons ahead.

Grumbling to yourself about having to let Layla into the bathroom to take a piss -- and then watch the dog miss the toilet bowl completely -- you ignore the box of donuts sitting on your desk. It’s only when you finish recalling how you had to literally drag Jake out of bed to clean up Layla’s mess do you realize there’s a box of twelve donuts on your desk. 

Frowning, you put down your coffee cup and examine the box. It’s from the same bakery your previous donuts were from. A small card sits on top of the box and you open it. 

Sorry

- Heeseung (:

Groaning, you chuck the small apology card aside and open up the box. Instantly, the aroma of freshly baked donuts fills the classroom and your mouth begins to water. You wonder how Heeseung was able to get the donuts freshly baked. The bakery doesn’t even open until seven. 

Pushing that thought aside, you grab a donut and get settled in your chair, beginning to finish the lesson prep you failed to complete last night. 

Thirty minutes quickly pass by. The only distraction you had was your phone buzzing. Sunghoon needed to pee and when he stepped into the bathroom, he found Jake lying, face down, fast asleep. Right next to Layla’s puddle of pee. Sunghoon, being the good friend he is, snapped a photo of Jake and sent it to the group chat before heading back to bed. He didn’t even bother to move Jake back to bed. 

“Enjoying the donuts?”

A voice draws you away from your laptop. Your rapid-fire typing stops and you glance over your shoulder, finding Heeseung standing at the entrance of your classroom. You gift Heeseung a small smile and lean back in your chair. “Thank you for the donuts, Heeseung.” 

“Do you accept my apology?” Heeseung asks as he walks over to your desk. 

“Of course,” you beam. “You know the way to my heart, Heeseung. Want one?” You offer the box to Heeseung but he waves you off. “By the way, how did you get these donuts freshly baked? The bakery doesn’t open until seven.” 

Heeseung winks. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Chaeyoung and Seungmin, huh? Who even is Seungmin? I don’t remember Chaeyoung ever dating a Seungmin?” Heeseung drums his fingers on your desk. 

You snort. “Seriously? You don’t remember Seungmin? He was in the year above you. Also in choir with you. Do you seriously not remember him? He thought he was a dog for the longest time so he often barked at people in the hallways.” 

Heeseung’s face lights up. “Oh! Him! I threw his lunch in the toilet one time. Fond memories.” 

“Why would you do that?!” 

Heeseung shrugs. “I was fourteen. We do weird things at fourteen.”

“Bullying is not a weird thing.”

“It was some kind of choir initiation,” Heeseung answers. “I don’t remember it. It’s been like. A decade.” 

“You’re getting old,” you muse, teasing Heeseung. 

“I could say the same about you,” Heeseung mutters, picking up a pen from your pen jar and chucking it at you. It hits your arm and clatters to the floor, loud in the empty classroom. 

“Once a bully, always a bully,” you retort. 

“Whatever.” 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” You ask Heeseung, “like, I don’t know, picking out what songs you’re going to sing in class today?”

“Unlike you, I have respectful friends who know not to bother me when I plan my lessons, so I already have picked out the three songs I plan on teaching the kids today.” 

“Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon are your friends too? I don’t see how that is an insult.” 

“To be fair, I was only able to complete my lesson plan for this week because Jeongin and Beomgyu were following some Zen Yoga YouTube video they found,” Heeseung admits, grimacing slightly. “Seeing both of them in yoga pants…..Never again.” 

“Did you finally realize you have a flat ass compared to theirs?”

Heeseung scowls and deliberately knocks over your mug of pens. “Don’t ever say I have a flat ass again. Jake’s the one with a flat ass.”

“He is not!” You defend your best friend with everything you have while cleaning up the mess Heeseung made. “You come into my classroom, make a mess, and insult my friend? You’re so lucky I don’t have super strength.” 

“You’re lucky I don’t have super super strength.” 

“Really?” You deadpan, glaring at Heeseung. “How childish. One of my students could come up with a better retort than that.” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes and grabs a donut from the box. Usually, you would whine and try to make him put it back, but today you let it slide since Heeseung was the one who bought the donuts for you. You turn back to your laptop to continue finishing up the last slide for today’s lesson as Heeseung chews on the chocolate-covered donut and flicks through the worksheets you printed out. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” You mumble. 

“No,” Heeseung responds, finishing off the last of the donut. “Mmm, those donuts are good.” He tries to help himself to another, but you slap his hand away. A scandalized gasp rings out through the room and Heeseung stares at you like you just called his mom a whore. 

“Get out of my classroom, Heeseung. I can only tolerate you for so long.” 

“Rude. I’ll remember this, Y/N,” Heeseung warns, backing out of your classroom as he wiggles his forefinger. “Heeseung Lee never forgets.” 

You snarl in response. 

++

Jake kicks the soccer ball back and forth with Riki. You sit on a bench nearby with Jay and Sunghoon, licking the triple stack of mint chocolate ice cream you coerced Sunghoon into buying for you. It took a lot of effort -- Sunghoon violently puked in the gutter the moment you asked, apparently his allergy to mint chocolate is very real -- but after unwillingly pulling out the cute poses you tucked away after you graduated high school, Sunghoon gave in. Much to Jay’s delight. 

Next to you, Sunghoon’s stomach rumbles loudly. “I’m gonna puke,” Sunghoon mumbles, ditching the remainder of his Tiramisu ice cream on the ground and running for the nearest bushing, retching loudly. Jake kicks the soccer ball at a dog. 

Jay cackles loudly at the misfortune of both his friends -- Sunghoon having an allergic reaction to mint chocolate, and Jake practically crying on his knees as he apologizes to the dog and the dog’s owner over and over. Riki just stands to the side recording Jake. “God, I love going to the park. Don’t you?”

You stare at Jay. “Are you a masochist? Do you feel joy in seeing other people’s misfortunes?” 

Jay tsks, shaking his head. “I’m a sadist, not a masochist. There’s a difference.”

“Well, school me on the difference, Jay.” 

“Masochist; I enjoy hurting or humiliating myself. Sadist; I enjoy hurting or humiliating other people.” 

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” you vow. 

Jay finishes off his cone and rubs his stomach. “Jay’s finished! Jay’s no longer hungry! Jay thinks we should head home now.” 

Sunghoon’s still retching. Jake’s still crying. Riki is now trying to muffle his laughter. You’re halfway through your triple scoop of mint chocolate. And Jay simply does not give a fuck. 

“Oh. Hey guys!” To make matters worse, Heeseung appears, dressed in jogging gear, and next to him is Jungwon. Oh God. Immediately, you start stuffing your face with the ice cream, trying to finish it all so you can high tail it out of this park. Jungwon Yang terrifies the shit out of you. Not only is he a professional Taekwondo athlete, but he’s also part cat. You vividly remember the time Jungwon attacked you -- hissing and claws out. You wake up screaming to that particular memory most nights. 

“Heeseung! What’s up bro?” Jay dabs up Heeseung. 

You give Heeseung a once over. He’s wearing leggings underneath his black shorts, a bright yellow tank top, and a red headband wrapped around his head, pushing back his hair. On his feet are -- god you have to blink a couple of times. Bright pink shoes. Bright pink shoes. They must be Jeongin’s. 

“Nothing much. Just out running with Jungwonie. He was feeling a bit energetic this evening.” 

You side eye Jungwon who has begun to do some stretches -- well, to you it looks like he’s getting ready to spring another attack on you. 

“Y/N,” Heeseung addresses you. “Finish eating all the doughnuts I gave you?”

(Heeseung bought you another box of doughnuts today. He must be feeling pretty sorry for eating your seventeen dollar box of doughnuts last week. It makes your heart burn. And in a good way — at least you think. Maybe you have heart burn?)

You smile politely, very aware of the ice cream all over your face and the brewing brain freeze. “Of course. I have to say, they were super lovely, Heeseung. I appreciated your kind gesture. Very kind. Super good and kind. I loved it. Lots! Hahahahahahaha --”

“You okay?” Heeseung interrupts, furrowing his brows. He reaches over and presses his palm against your forehead. You jolt away instantly, scowling. 

“I’m not sick!” 

“You’re acting weird.”

You side eye Jungwon again. This time he’s on his phone. He’s probably calling for back up. Most likely Sunoo. Oh God, you’re about to get attacked, and then kidnapped. This is not good. You need to get out of here. 

“Weird?? Hahaha why would I be acting weird….” You choke down the rest of your ice cream with more force this time. Heeseung and Jay watch on in befuddlement. 

“Slow down girl,” Jay says. “That ice cream isn’t going anywhere.” 

“Maybe she’s just practicing,” Jake says. It seems he’s gotten over the trauma of hitting a dog with his soccer ball. “For, you know…..” 

If you weren’t trying to force mint chocolate ice cream down your throat, you would’ve jumped Jake. 

“Hey, woah,” Heeseung grabs your wrist and halts you from eating. “Let’s clean you up a bit.” He pulls a box of wet wipes out of thin air and begins to wipe your face gently with them, discarding them in the nearby bin. 

For some reason, your heart begins to palpitate as you watch Heeseung, who has a soft look on his face, clean your face. One hand gently holds your chin, while the other wipes away the ice cream you had smeared all over your face. Heeseung may be a freak and get on your nerves constantly and make you consider murder, but there are times like these; times where he is so kind and gentle towards you, and it makes you rethink your entire life --

Right. Your life. 

So, you were born on a frosty December morning. You came out screaming so loud, a couple of nurses had to leave the room and you roused your passed out father. In the room next to you, Jay was born a couple of seconds later, which led to you and Jay growing up together. Side by side. Hand in hand. The sharing-the-sandbox-and-pushing-each-other-off-the-monkey-bars growing up. 

All your life you’ve been stuck to Jay’s side. And you hated it. 

Elementary school started and you made new friends. Who then became Jay’s friends as well. You pushed Jay off the monkey bars every break time because he had invaded your big squad of girls, and you would get put in time out for ten minutes because of it every time. Jay would buy you a popsicle after school as an apology for worming his way into your girl group. 

(Though, Jake should be mentioned here; he was an honorary member of your girl club because he was pretty good at braiding hair. This is when you, Jake, and Jay became a tight knit group of friends, much to your displeasure. Did everything in your life have to revolve around Jay?)

Middle school came and with a renewed vigor, you made new friends. And so did Jay. And it turned out his friends were also your friends. Because, somehow, you befriended Yizhuo, and Lily, and so did Jay. But there was one person you and Jay did not share in common; Heeseung Lee.

Heeseung was in the grade above you. He was kind, smart, and very attractive. You had both gone to the same elementary school and he instantly took Jay under his wing, but you made sure to stay far away. Boys who weren’t Jay and Jake had cooties. You didn’t really talk to Heeseung until middle school when Jay thought it would be best to add Heeseung to your friend group. 

Instantly, Heeseung ticked you off and thus, began your long winded friendship of fighting and bickering every chance you got. It was just so easy to piss Heeseung off, and it was clear Heeseung took amusement in annoying you. At first, everyone told you it was because Heeseung liked you and wanted your attention -- but then came your freshman year, Heeseung’s sophomore year. 

High school was a whole new environment, and a new friend was added to your friend group; Sunghoon. But more on that later. High school meant maturity, sex, and nostalgia for your childhood -- more on the sex part later. 

With confidence filling your veins, you asked Heeseung out on a date. He promptly rejected you. That night, with Yizhuo and Lily, you called upon some demons and made them swear to curse Heeseung for the rest of his damned life.

Apparently, those demons suck fucking ass. 

While you spent most of your time bickering with the boys around you, there were the times when they were gentle with you -- Heeseung especially. Somewhere, buried deep down, Heeseung actually cares about you. You’ve seen the way he looks at you. You’ve seen the way he handles you when you’re crying or emotional in any way and you can’t help but let your heart flutter, even after swearing to move on from Heeseung ever since he rejected you. 

You don’t like admitting this but. Well. You’ve been in love with Heeseung since you were twelve. 

God. How pathetic. 

So -- there Heeseung was, gently wiping your face. “Messy girl,” Heeseung scolds gently. “Seriously. When did you become like Riki?” With a last swipe over your lips, Heeseung backs away. “There. Now, you look easy on the eyes.” 

Knuckles crack. You glance over at Jungwon. He’s cracking the bones in his neck. Oh God. You thrust the remainder of your ice cream at Jay and book it out of the park. You weren’t planning on staying any longer. ‘Local girl kidnapped by self-proclaimed Cat Boy’ is not a headline you want to be featured in. 

Sayonara bitches!

+

jake’s intervention: stop kissing everything

you: mom is making me come home for christmas

you: decided tn is my last night alive

you: anyone wanna watch me jump??????

jay smells: Can’t watch! I’m Jungwon-sitting

gaymansaywhat: Gay

gaymansaywhat: Woah who said that?????????????????

you: im so happy you came out of the closet sunghoon 😭😭😭😭

gaymansaywhat: Not funny. Didn’t laugh.

gaymansaywhat: I literally have a girlfriend. 

you: Ok…….moving on.

jake (DNR): what time are u planning to jump?

you: in ten minutes

jake (DNR): i’ll be there!

jake (DNR): physics is making me rethink my smoking sobriety oath

jay smells: girl. 

jay smells: BTW i’m also going back for christmas, and the invitation is extended to everyone!

nishimura: I’LL BE THERE

you: at my suicide or at christmas?

nishimura: wat do u think freak.

you: kys. food over free entertainment? i see what kind of boy you are, riki nishimura

heeseung: i think i’m a part of the family emailing list

heeseung: i even got assigned to bring a plate of dessert

jay smells: of course you did.

jay smells: i got assigned to bring meat and they’ll probably expect it to be like slow cooked lamb or something

Jungwon Yang: I’ll be there.

Jungwon Yang: At Christmas. Not suicide. 

Jungwon Yang: 👋

you: how can someone be horrifying over text?

barbienoo: i’ll def be there at christmas (:

barbienoo: can’t make the suicide, sry

you: i’m calling it off

you: it’s so pathetic how i only have jake as my audience

you: if anything that’s only making me MORE suicidal

heeseung: need some company, y/n?

heeseung: jeongin and beomgyu dumped me

you: poor baby heeseung

you: be a man about it and kill yourself.

gaymansaywhat: Anyone else feeling like a third wheel rn?

++

For once, the school day passes by relatively boring. No children crying, no friendship drama, and no boys tugging on ponytails. Humming to yourself, you tidy up your classroom while thinking of what to have for dinner tonight. Jake and Sunghoon were out bar hopping with Felix -- which basically meant they’ll be touring all the gay bars in the city. 

“Hey.”

Glancing up, you see Heeseung resting in the doorway of your classroom, his brown satchel Jay gifted him for his eighteenth birthday hanging off his shoulder. He was wearing a blue plaid button-up, black trousers, and those fancy leather brown shoes Jay buys by the hundreds. Seriously. Half of Jay’s room is full of shoe boxes. 

“Hey,” you respond, dumping the handful of trash you were holding into the nearby rubbish bin. 

“Hungry?” 

“I could eat three horses.”

Heeseung grins. “Perfect. I have a reservation at that new Italian restaurant in ten minutes. Meet you there?”

You narrow your eyes. “Is this a date?”

“Do you want it to be a date?”

“Well, you are fresh out of a break up. I know you, Beomgyu, and Jeongin were involved for a while --”

“--I hope you know we were joking about that polyamory shit --”

“-- It wasn’t a joke. It’s okay. We love the gay community in this classroom --”

“--Don’t tell me that you’re in love with me, Y/N --”

The conversation full of interruptions dies there. Can Heeseung tell? Just by the way you’re standing? Or the way you’re talking? That you’re in love with him? Shit. You need to do something to throw off suspicion. You can’t have Heeseung thinking you’re in love with him. That’ll lead to your demise. 

(“Okay, here’s my ‘How-to-stop-loving-Heeseung-Lee’ guide,” Lily Morrow announces, sitting on her bright pink couch in her bright yellow apartment. Yizhuo was sitting next to Lily, squinting at the Colleen Hoover book she was reading -- unfortunately, Yizhuo had fallen victim to Booktok’s Colleen Hoover propaganda. She’ll have to learn the hard way.

Wonyoung was also here. She was eating hot cheetos and daintily dusting off her fingers with a cute handkerchief your pretty sure you helped Sunghoon buy.

It was Girl’s Night. Well. An attempt at Girls night because only four of you were here. Minjeong had other business to attend to  -- Beomgyu and Jeongin apparently took higher priority over Girls Night. Chaewon actually had work. Like. Real life work. A full time corporate job kind of work, which was unfortunate, and Yunjin was attending to an SNS text Heeseung had sent her. Speak of the devil.

Fiddling with the ends of the throw pillow Lily’s roommate, Jinsoul, bought, you lean towards Lily with eager ears. “Tell me, Mrs. Morrow. Tell me how to stop my twelve-year pining.” 

Lily clears her throat. “First step is admitting, to Heeseung’s face, that you do not love him. Admittance in the face of adversity is always a good start.” 

You nod, eyes gleaming. “Okay. Admit I do not love Heeseung to his face. Good start. What’s the next step?”

Lily makes a face. It looks like she just got a toothache. “Um. That’s all I have.” 

There’s a long pause. 

Yizhuo gasps. “What a shit book!” And then she throws it across the room, narrowly missing the cat-shaped lamp Lily’s roommate -- Jinsoul, once again -- bought. “What are you two talking about?”

“What the fuck, Lily? Why did you call a Girl’s Night then? We were supposed to figure out how to stop my pining!” You cry, shoving your face against the ugly throw pillow. 

“I was….interrupted.”

“What was more important than coming up with a comprehensive guide to getting over Heeseung Lee?”

“Um. Jake called me. Said he had lady problems.” 

“He -- what? Jake has lady problems? He’s -- he can’t even get his dick up?!” 

Yizhuo snorts. “He can’t get his dick up?”

“He asked me if female dogs also go through puberty because Layla wasn’t listening to him.” 

“I’m gonna kill that fucking dog.” You swear.)

You laugh. “In love with you? That’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said, Heeseung Lee. I am not in love with you!” Phew. Good save. 

“Hmm, okay!” Heeseung shrugs. “Let’s go eat.” 

It’s a short drive over to the new Italian restaurant. You and Heeseung park next to each other and enter the restaurant in silence. It’s packed and conversation is spilling out into the night. Everything about this restaurant speaks romance, and it’s hard to not notice all the dates happening around you as you’re seated smack in the middle of the restaurant. 

Since you were driving, you decided to get some Fanta. 

“You still like Fanta?” Heeseung asks, wrinkling his nose. 

“Hater,” you scowl. “Fanta is good.”

“Sure. If you were raised in a dumpster and had to fight your way out.” 

You pick up the knife in front of you, watching it glint in the moody restaurant lighting. “Don’t test me, Heeseung. I was a waitress in high school.” 

“Is that supposed to scare me? Are you going to “are you ready to order” me to death?” 

“Watch that mouth, Heeseung Lee.” 

Heeseung grins and focuses back on the menu in front of him. “You do know Jeongin and Beomgyu and I weren’t actually dating?”

You smile, rolling your eyes. “Of course I know. But to anyone else? Well.”  The spaghetti bolognese sounds good, but their ravioli sounds even better -- oh wow their gnocchi. This is going to be a tough decision to make. Glancing up at Heeseung, you can’t remember the last time you two ever hung out like this. In fact, you can’t ever remember the last time the two of you were this polite with each other. 

“So, why’d you ask me to join you tonight? Do you still feel bad for eating all my doughnuts?” You set the menu down, deciding on the ravioli. 

“Nah,” Heeseung shakes his head. “Jeongin, Beomgyu, Yunjin, Minjeong, and I had this slideshow night a couple of nights back. Jeongin’s slideshow was a lecture on how we should all be mature by now -- I mean, no twenty-five-year-old should still be arguing like a twelve-year-old with their friend.” Heeseung glances up at you, an oddly warm look in his eyes. “It kinda got me thinking.” 

“Oh,” you fail to come up with a response. 

Your waiter comes back and you order your food. 

“I guess it’s time we mature,” you agree with Heeseung. You feel as though your world has been turned upside down. Being mature with Heeseung? That sounds immature. “Does this mean we have to say good morning and good evening to each other, and ask how each other is doing whenever we see each other?”

Heeseung snorts, siping his orange juice. (He’s one to talk about ordering Fanta. Only freaky losers order orange juice. Orange juice drinkers are the worst types of humans. Trust.) “Not that adult-like mature, Y/N. It’s like we didn’t grow up together.” 

“Well, if you wanna get technical --”

“Jay talked about you all the time in elementary school. I felt like I knew you before I actually knew you. I also thought you and Jay would get married, but apparently Jay has a type for women and men who don’t want him. Case and point; Yuna and Jungwon.” 

You giggle, thinking back to Jay’s whirlwind romance with Yuna -- that was all in his head. Jungwon…well that’s a work in progress according to Jay. You’re pretty sure Jungwon has a thing with Rei, which is probably why Riki is a bit antagonistic towards him because Riki has a thing for Rei. 

“Jake told me he was out with Felix tonight.”

You nod your head. “Jake and Sunghoon are going bar hopping with him. I wonder how long it’ll take for them to realize they’re actually going to every gay bar in the city.” 

“It’ll take a while for Sunghoon to figure out. He’s used to getting hit on by everyone and everything.” 

You raise your glass of Fanta. “Let’s cheers to that.” 

Your food arrives. It was just as yummy as you imagined, and the night floats away as you and Heeseung talk about everything under the sun. It felt weird, but nice, not arguing with Heeseung over stupid petty things like siblings would. You think you could get used to this. 

You order a brownie for dessert, and of course after saying he was too full for dessert, the gooey chocolate brownie is too tempting for Heeseung. 

“No!” You exclaim, whacking Heeseung’s hand away. “You do not get to eat this brownie. I’m paying for it, so I’m eating it. Don’t even think about touching it. I don't want your ugly music teacher hands getting all over it.” 

“You hate me,” scowls Heeseung. “And what did music teachers ever do to you?”

“Exist,” you snarl. 

Heeseung eyes you, and then breaks out into a grin, leaning back in his chair and stretching. “Ahh, I know what this is. This is reverse psychology flirting.” 

You give Heeseung a look, and then reach out to touch his forehead. “Are you sick, Heeseung, what are you even saying?”

Heeseung bats your hand away and opens his mouth. “Ahhh?” 

“Ahh,” you mock back and shove the entire brownie into your mouth. 

“Why do you eat food like it’s going to disappear in .5 seconds. What happened to savoring the flavor?” 

“So. Since when were you on my family’s email list for Christmas dinner?” You address the elephant in the room -- well, the elephant in the room for you. You’re pretty sure Heeseung isn’t aware that that’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past 48 hours. 

Heeseung shrugs, finishing off the last of his eighth glass of orange juice. “It just happened. I think it’s also your mom trying to get me married into the family.” 

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to get down on one knee?”

“I wouldn’t get married to you.” 

“How else will you marry into the family? I’m an only child.”

“There’s always Jay.” 

“He’s my mother’s non-biological son.” 

“She still thinks of him as a son.” 

“Fine. Be gay. See if I care.” 

Heeseung has a smug grin on his face. “I think you do care, Y/N. You care greatly about the fact that I would choose Jay over you.” 

“Everyone chooses Jay over me. Even my own mother,” you grumble. 

++

“How’s the Heeseung project coming along?” Yizhuo asks as she’s painting your nails over the dining table. Jay was busy in the kitchen, airpods in, and cutting up some vegetables for the curry he was making. Jake was busy crying over some physics shit and taking breaks to stare at the pack of Malboros he bought yesterday, and Sunghoon was giggling like a teenage girl as he texts Wonyoung. 

Freak. 

“Well, I told him I didn’t love him to his face like Lily advised,” you say. 

Yizhuo nods her head.

“And that’s all I’ve done so far.” 

Yizhuo gives you a disappointed look. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” You whine. “It’s just. Hard. Okay? Super duper hard because everything about him attracts me. Even his fucking adam’s apple.” 

“Why are we talking about Adam's apple?” Jake asks, walking into the kitchen, tears streaming down his face and his fingers twitching. 

You both ignore Jake who then immediately breaks down as soon as he opens the refrigerator. Sometimes you regret moving in with Jake. He’s prone to breakdowns. 

“Keep this up and you’re gonna die alone. And a virgin.” Yizhuo hisses.

“Actually, I’m not a virgin. Remember?” 

“Why’d you have to remind me,” groans Yizhuo. 

So -- the sex thing. 

You + Jake + alcohol = Sex. 

End of story. 

Yunjin suddenly bursts into the kitchen, Sunghoon following close behind. She leans over, her hands resting on her knees and she gasps for breath. Everyone stops what they’re doing and stares at her. It takes a while for Yunjin to regain her composure -- it’s probably all the hotboxing she does with Beomgyu, Jeongin, and their pickle rick bong. 

“Heeseung -- Heeseung’s on a date.”

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is where Act Two begins.

++

Act II: A love that nobody could destroy

[SCENE: CHRISTMAS PARTY, 9 PM]

It’s Christmas. It’s the season of cheer. It’s the season of snow, snowmen, and eggnog. It’s the season of giving. It’s the season of kissing each other under the mistletoe and having hot Christmas sex while Jingle Bells plays.

You sit on the couch, eyes following Heeseung around the house like a hawk. So, Heeseung has been going out on dates with a girl named Ryujin. Interesting. You’ve never heard of the name Ryujin before, and your mother knows everyone in the godforsaken city. Next to you, Jeongin shifts uncomfortably.

“Remind me why we’re sitting together?”

“You’re a Heeseung magnet,” you tell him. 

“I am?” 

You look at Jeongin. “Yes.” And then you look back at Heeseung. 

Christmas; season of cheer and giving, but for you? It’s the season of green-eyed monsters named jealousy. You wonder, what does this Ryujin girl have that you don’t? What was so special about her that made Heeseung decide to go on dates with her instead of you? Was your hang out at that really nice Italian restaurant really that bad? You shiver at the thought. 

Jeongin, ever the Heeseung magnet, manages to attract Heeseung over to the couch you were both sitting on. Sitting up straighter, Heeseung takes a seat beside you, his knee brushing yours. You almost drop your eggnog. 

“Hey,” Heeseung greets, grabbing a pillow and holding it against his chest. “Pretty fun party, isn’t it? Your mom always throws the best parties, Y/N.” Heeseung beams at you. Teeth and all. You swoon a bit. 

“Yeah, well, she’s putting on her best since you’re here.” Is this flirting? Are you flirting? Beside you, Jeongin snorts into his cup of lemonade. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “So, how many cards did you get before Christmas break? I got about fifty. Lots of chocolate too.” 

“I’m not sharing that private information with you.” 

“Ahh, you only got three.” 

“Did not! My students love me!” You defend. 

“Hmm. Sure.” 

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Heeseung smiles like he knows the answer to every question ever. “Oh, you know. I’ve heard some things about you…..”

You practically pin Heeseung to the back of the couch, your eggnog thrust into Jeongin’s unwilling hand. “Tell. Me. Now.” You demand, through gritted teeth. “Or I will castrate you.” 

“Last time you threatened castration nothing happened.” 

“This time it will happen. I know a guy who knows a vet.” 

Heeseung raises an eyebrow. “Do tell, Y/N.” 

“First, you spill your secrets and I spill mine.” 

Unfortunately, Sunghoon interrupts your interrogation. “As much as we’re all enjoying the view,” Sunghoon says, sounding deeply amused, “your services are required, darling Y/N.” 

If you were Medusa, Sunghoon would be stone. “What.” Venom practically spits from your mouth. Who dared to interrupt your interrogation? Oh. Of course it was Jay and Jake. They stand in a shadowed corner, beckoning you over with not-so subtle hand gestures. 

Reluctantly, you let go of Heeseung, pat down your dress, and approach the two boys, Sunghoon hot on your heels. 

“How important is this?” You hiss. “I almost had Heeseung’s confession.” 

“Confession?!” Exclaims Jake. “He was gonna admit his love to you?”

Freeze frame -- a little backstory;

After Yunjin all but burst into your kitchen with that sudden proclamation of Heeseung on a date, Jay promptly asked you what you were going to do about that, which led to you freaking out and wondering how the hell Jay knew you were in love with Heeseung.

“I knew it from the moment I introduced you to him,” Jay said, sounding proud of himself. You, on the other hand, can’t help but feel suspicious. Since when was Jay so observant of you? In fact, when has Jay ever been that observant? Or had those kinds of feelings -- the psychic weirdo feelings? Jay’s a pretty straight forward facts kinda guy. Suspicion fills up your stomach, but you push it aside. 

“Yeah, Y/N. You should go confess to Heeseung. It’s getting tiring,” Jake had followed up with after Jay’s explanation. It seemed his tears had dried up. After another shouting match of you asking Jake how he knew, you found out Jake only found out last year because Jay had told him. Once again, you were suspicious because since when did Jay willingly tell Jake all the secrets he knew? If there was one thing Jay was good at, it was goading Jake. He loved to tease and annoy the shit out of Jake, and he loved holding things over the Australian’s head. 

Sunghoon’s reaction on the other hand, wasn’t surprising at all; “You love Heeseung?” An alien could be having sex with another alien in front of Sunghoon, and he wouldn’t even notice. 

So, you found out two of your roommates knew of your love for Heeseung, and Sunghoon had just found out, so immediately a plan was put into action. Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon took this seriously, deciding they were gonna play Spies. Overdramatic freaks.

That’s why Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, and you were conversing in a dark corner in the living room. Apparently, that’s something spies do. “We have intel on this Ryujin Shin,” Jake says, in a low tone, eyes scouring the room for any eavesdroppers. You have to stifle a laugh. 

“Pray tell, Agent Layla.” 

(Agent Layla = Jake

Agent Mariners = Jay

Agent Ice Prince = Sunghoon.)

(Pretty stupid names if anybody were to ask you.)

“She’s a lesbian.” 

Silence fills the dark living room corner. 

“And you’ve confirmed it?”

Jay whips out his phone and shows you photos of Ryujin Shin. HD 4K photos. 

“We literally caught her in 4K.”

“You stalked her?”

“Well --”

“You guys are taking this spy agent shit too seriously.” 

“We’re bored, Y/N!” Sunghoon whines. “Bored, horny adult men.” 

“You could’ve left the horny part out,” Jake mumbles. 

“Okay, So, she’s a lesbian,” you say, confirming it yourself as you swipe through photos of this Ryujin Shin girl kissing another girl. “Does Heeseung look like a girl?” 

Once again, silence falls over the dark living room corner. All four of you turned to look at Heeseung who was engaged in what seemed like a deep conversation with Jeongin. Lord knows what they were talking about. Probably the drama in Jeongin and Beomgyu’s pilates class. 

“No. He’s not.” Jay confirms.

“But if your tilt your head slightly….” Sunghoon says, with a tilted head. Jake whacks him and Sunghoon straightens up. “Nope. Heeseung is very much a guy. Jake can confirm because he’s seen his dick before -- right?”

Jake nods his head. “It was a pretty solid dick.” 

“So, Heeseung is a guy, Ryujin goes around kissing girls, why the hell would they go out on dates with each other?” You ask the question of the hour. 

No one says anything for a moment.

“Maybe it’s an experiment,” Jake pipes up. “Maybe Heeseung is trying to turn Ryujin to the dark side.” 

“Dark side?” You ask.

“Straight.” 

“The dark side is being straight?”

Jake nods his head. “We hate heteros here.” 

“Down with the heterosexuals!” Sunghoon exclaims. 

“Okay, I’m finished with this conversation. I’m walking away. And over to Heeseung.” You shake your head. You feel your brain cells exploding. 

“Wait! Y/N! What was the second step in Lily’s comprehensive guide to getting over Heeseung Lee?” Jay asks frantically. 

“There was no second step,” you say. “So I’m left to figure out the second step all by myself. I mean, I should probably go on a date with someone, right?” 

“I can set you up,” Sunghoon says.

“No.” You shoot him down immediately. 

++

Your date was a guy named Mark. You’re spending your date in front of a claw machine, watching Mark blow all his money on attempting to get this one monkey plushie you had pointed out. “It’s fine, Mark, really. I don’t need it.” But, like all men, he ignored you and shoved another one dollar note into the claw machine. Groaning, you turn around, not bothering to watch another failed attempt.

The arcade was alive with people at 8 PM. Huh, who knew. 

At first, Mark seemed like a cool dude. And then he howled at the moon fifteen seconds after you started up a conversation about Twilight with him. He told you he was team Jacob and that made you incredibly wary of him. Why would anyone be team Jacob? 

There were a million other games you would love to play -- like the motorbike one across from you. You totally ruled at motorbike arcade games. Or there was this zombie apocalypse game you passed by as Mark led you over to the basketball game -- and then you pointed out the monkey plushie and Mark forgot all about his bragging about how he’s the best basketballer since Lebron. 

Your mind trails to Heeseung. Typical. If it were Heeseung you were on a date with, you wouldn’t be standing here with a deep longing to play the motorbike game because you would be playing the motorbike game. Heeseung would be on the bike next to you making stupid remarks and you would be beside yourself in laughter. 

The thing is; you’re what someone would call ‘emotionally repressed.’ You hate thinking, talking and feeling your feelings. Especially when it comes to romantic attraction toward your long-time friend. Ever since Heeseung rejected you back in freshman year, you’ve become accustomed to pushing your feelings away and burying them in the deep dark depths of your mind. They rarely come out to play -- and when they do, you’re ready and waiting to whack them back into hiding. 

With a huff, you decide that this isn’t the date you want. You don’t want to be stuck to Mark Lee’s side for the night, so with tense shoulders you turn around to -- Mark Lee holding out the monkey plushie you pointed out, a broad grin on his face. “I’m a pro,” he says, fifty dollars poorer. “Now, it’s time for me to get my Lebron on,” and he leads you over to the basketball game. 

Okay. Maybe Mark wasn’t that bad. He just….has some flaws. Fatal flaws. (Like seriously. Who howls at the fucking moon??)

“Noooo wayyy!” Mark exclaims, pulling up to the arcade game and tapping the shoulder of a hooded shoulder. As soon as you see the face of the hooded figure, you melt into the ground, never to be seen again. Heeseung Lee. What the fuck was he doing here? This was not the second step to Lily Morrow’s comprehensive guide to getting over Heeseung Lee. He wasn’t supposed to intrude on your date!

“Yo, Mark!” Heeseung daps him up, and then he sees you. Disgustingly, his face lights up. It’s like, ever since the Doughnut Incident, he’s decided to call you a friend, which isn’t exactly a good thing but also; you’re sick of being stuck in the friendzone. Like, c’mon!!!!!!!!!!! It’s been ten years since he rejected you, surely some feelings have developed in those ten years. 

Well. There was the whole Jake Year. You don’t really want to delve into that -- too much uncharted territory and angst for you. 

“Y/N!” Heeseung exclaims, wrapping you in a hug. If only Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon were here to see this. Wonyoung would also probably be there, since Sunghoon was. Ever since Christmas, you never see Wonyoung or Sunghoon without each other. Jay reckons they’ve gotten engaged. Jake’s too busy crying over Layla biting him to care. 

“Hey,” you greet. 

“You sound enthusiastic.”

“You know me, always enthused to see you.” 

Ryujin Shin pops out of nowhere, because of course she does. 

“Let’s be honest,” you blurt out, and then immediately regret it when Ryujin gives you a weird look. You need to stop hanging around Riki. And Jeongin. Don’t even start on Jeongin Yang. 

Heeseung also gives you a weird look. “Let’s be honest, I need to poop,” you try to recover from that fuck up, but you think you only make it worse. “I think I’m about to blow, can we reschedule this date, Mark? I need to get to the nearest toilet before I explode.” You need to shut the fuck up. But you’re stressed and when you’re stressed, your mouth runs like a motor unable to stop. Jay says it’s your worst feature, Sunghoon says it’s your most defining feature. You told Sunghoon his most defining feature was the bruise he was about to get from your punch to the face. 

“Are you sick?” Heeseung asks. Because apparently you constantly get sick around him. 

“I’m fine.” (Why does your voice crack?) Suddenly, the arcade becomes overwhelming. You have to get out. So, with a hurried goodbye to Mark, you exit the arcade, gripping the monkey plushie tightly and trying to push the boiling pot of emotions further down -- but it doesn’t work, like it normally does, and your chest becomes tight. 

You make it halfway down the street before you start crying. Why are you crying? Why?? What brought this on? Maybe it’s the fact Heeseung’s dating other people -- lesbians, to be exact. Maybe it’s the fact you tried to move on. Maybe it’s the fact Heeseung is always there, wherever you go. 

Okay, so you know you haven’t gone into much detail about how much you truly love Heeseung, so here’s the truth; you love him. Really love him, that sometimes, it’s hard to breathe. You love Heeseung, that just the thought of him keeps you awake on random nights. When you were thirteen, you planned out your life with Heeseung in your diary. When you were fourteen, after Heeseung rejected you, you cried so hard you threw up and took three days off of school. When you were fifteen and trying to move on from Heeseung, you couldn’t. 

When you were seventeen, you played a game of seven minutes in heaven and you wished badly to get Heeseung. You thought that maybe, if he kissed you, he would take back his rejection from freshman year. Instead, the bottle landed on Jake and --

You’ve loved Heeseung for twelve years. 

Every time you think about the future, Heeseung is always there. Even now, when you’re trying to move on. Even now, when you were waiting for Mark to get the monkey plushie. Even now, as you’re crying, you’re wondering why it’s so hard to make Heeseung love you. 

Maybe the whole Doughnut Incident was just the catalyst for this; your ultimate demise. Maybe, that Doughnut Incident, and everything that occurred after, is just the universe giving you a sign it’s time to give up. You’ve wasted twelve years of your life. Give Up. 

“Y/N?” 

Heeseung’s here. Heeseung -- Heeseung followed you?

You glance up, and Heeseung frowns, coming to stand in front of you to brush away your tears.

Maybe you were too in your head -- too blinded by fighting down your emotions that you didn’t realize how Heeseung truly treated you. Sure, you both argued over menial things, and called each other names just for the hell of it, but this was the true friendship of you and Heeseung -- forged over late night talks, and sneaking into Jay’s massive kitchen to eat all his pop tarts and drink his Coke. 

Heeseung takes care of you. He was always there for you in high school when you spent hours in the school, and local library. He was there for you in college, when you were a pathetic mess and spent most of your freshman and sophomore years crying every day. And God. He was there for you during your Jake Years -- even when he shouldn’t’ve been. 

This whole time, you’ve been deluding yourself into believing Heeseung never cared, when it’s so obvious now. He’s cradling your face, with concerned eyes. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” His voice is soft. So so soft. You’re utterly beguiled. You’re overwhelmed. You’re in a daze.

You respond by kissing Heeseung. 

++

The Jake Years. 

1. When did Jake and Y/N first hook up

Freshman year of college

Senior year of high school

Junior year of high school

2. When did Jake and Y/N begin regularly hooking up?

Freshman year of college. October 31st.

Sophomore year of college. November 15th.

Senior year of high school, December 31st.

3. How long did this relationship last?

Five months

Two years

One year

One year, nine months

4. Why did Jake and Y/N begin hooking up?

Because Y/N needed to get over Heeseung

Because Jake had a crush on Y/N

5. What were the consequences for hooking up with each other?

The answer is too long to be multi choice

The friend group falling apart, Heeseung fading away, Jake and Y/N resenting each other for a year after the relationship ended, Heeseung dating a girl called Giselle. 

Y/N didn’t realize it at the time, but Heeseung loved her. He was in love with her. His heart was dedicated to her. He would’ve confessed, if it weren’t for him walking in on Jake and Y/N making out in a bathroom. Heeseung tried to keep his distance from Y/N, and Jake, but he loved her. So, he stayed and tried to repair his broken heart in the process.

Jake and Y/N blaming each other for all their problems. 

All of the above. And more. 

Examiner’s notes: I know this looks like a lot. And it is. And there’s more. There’s always more to the story, and if Y/N hadn't been so blind, then she would’ve seen Heeseung’s love and affection for her. Heeseung got to college, and realized he missed Y/N more than any of his other friends. He missed her, and missing her made him love her. He worshipped Y/N, and was willing to do anything for her and that made it hard to walk away from their friendship when she started hooking up with Jake, so Heeseung stayed. He fucking stayed. He stayed, and let Y/N shatter his heart whole. If Y/N had only opened her fucking eyes, looked outside of her mind, she could’ve seen what she had been wishing for for most of her life. Good exam. You seemed to have studied this topic well -- you have the best marks in this class! I hope to see you taking this course at a collegiate level. 

++

“Not a fucking intervention,” you groan, opening the door to see Beomgyu and Jeongin in yoga pants and matching cheetah-print tank-tops. Did cheetah-print tank-tops even exist? You wonder where Beomgyu and Jeongin found them, Lily and her roommate, Jinsoul, would totally love them. “I don’t need an intervention. I’m fine. Please, I hate pilates.” 

Jeongin grabs your arm and yanks you out the door. “Nope. You’re coming to our pilates class.” 

“I’ll scream.”

“Try us,” Beomgyu smiles. It’s not a nice smile. You hate it when Beomgyu smiles with his teeth. 

Jeongin and Beomgyu’s pilate’s class was infamous for many things -- their teacher, Joshua Hong, was a little bit on the…..gay side. And everyone who went to pilates with Beomgyu and Jeongin, came back a changed person -- Jake can attest to that. He was free of his Christian guilt and immediately lit up five bongs, got stoned, ran through the streets naked, and entered a Catholic church. Talk about extreme. 

“Fine. I’ll jump out your van and kill myself.” 

“It’ll be our pleasure to witness that great feat,” Jeongin responds, rapidly pushing the down button on the elevator before giving up and heading for the stairs. 

“What the fuck why are we taking the stairs? We live on the fifteenth floor. I’m not walking down fifteen flights of stairs. Look! The elevator is starting to climb floors --”

“Shut up and start climbing, Y/N,” Beomgyu says, holding the door open. “You need this.” 

“Did you just call me fat?” 

“Maybe. Move your fat ass.” 

“Rude as hell.” 

“You wanna know what’s rude?” Jeongin asks, and instantly, you know what’s about to be said.

“Nope. Don’t say anything. I don’t wanna know --”

“Kissing our best friend and then running away.” 

Yeah. That happened. Call it a moment of panic. 

You groan loudly, the sound reverberating through the stairwell. “I’ll admit, not my finest moment.” 

“Actually, hooking up with Jake while Heeseung was in love with you was not your finest moment,” Jeongin corrects, holding up his forefinger. Behind you, Beomgyu disguises his laughter as a cough. 

You already knew Heeseung was in love with you while you and Jake were hooking up because of Sunoo. He was severely inebriated and decided to spill dark, juicy secrets to you. But, like everything else related to Heeseung, you pushed it away and pulled on your blind glasses, letting your unreliable train of thoughts control the narrative of your life. 

Pulling up to a pilates class in jeans was the worst mistake of your life, but Beomgyu and Jeongin didn’t seem to care as they placed their mats down at the very front of the room, and right next to….Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki. God. You were literally in hell. 

Jungwon hisses at you, Riki smirks, and Sunoo holds in his laugh. Clearly, the news of you kissing Heeseung had spread fast. 

“I hope all women die,” Jungwon claims in a rather dramatic fashion.

“Don’t say that. They’ll call you misogynistic,” Sunoo says, patting Jungwon on the head. 

“Well. That is something a misogynist would say,” Riki points out. 

“I can’t believe you broke Heeseung’s heart a second time,” a voice behind you says. 

“Who the fuck are you?” You ask, whirling around.

“Chan!” 

“Someone with the name Chan probably stinks,” Beomgyu says. 

“That’s rude,” Chan comments. 

“Your feet stink,” the person behind Chan says. 

Chan leaves the pilates class.

“So,” Jeongin says, beginning to stretch. “What happened?”

You stand there, arms folded, mat still folded, and in jeans. “Not telling.” 

Jungwon hisses again. Sunoo has to manhandle the younger boy away from you. 

“Why not?” Beomgyu asks, pulling out a cruiser from his bag. He takes a sip like it’s water. To be honest, you’re not surprised. You’ve seen their fridge before. You’ve never wanted to unsee something so badly. 

“Because it’s stupid,” you feel ashamed to admit this but whatever. You pick at your jeans. 

“What’s stupid?” Jeongin probes, now doing a handstand -- what the fuck?

“Just -- everything!” 

Upon your sudden proclamation, the pilates instructor, Joshua Hong walks in. Saved by the teacher, you let out a sigh of relief. Jeongin and Beomgyu would have to give up their interrogation for now and you’ll get time to think over pretty solid excuses to their questions. 

Or so you thought.

“Gayshua -- sorry, Joshua!” Beomgyu calls out, “we have another one!” And he points to you. This Joshua Hong fellow grins so brightly you literally have to squint. Talk about veneers. 

“Dope. Come on up here,” Joshua gestures to the podium that is usually used by instructors. 

“What?” You’re confused. 

“Intervention time!” Sunoo cheers, clapping. Soon, the whole studio is clapping and Beomgyu leads you up to the podium. You feel totally befuddled. What the fuck. You were supposed to air out your deepest darkest secret to a room full of strangers?

“Alright, this is Y/N,” Beomgyu introduced you. “She’s in love with our best friend, Heeseung Lee. You all know Heeseung, right?”

Everyone nods their head, and a voice rings out, “yeah! He’s pretty dope.” The voice belonged to Mark Lee. Of-fucking-course. Somehow, this all gets more embarrassing. 

“And he’s in love with her too and she broke his heart --”

“He used to be in love with me,” you correct Beomgyu. “He doesn’t love me anymore.”

Beomgyu laughs so loudly you cower away. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” 

“What…..what was funny about that?” Your ears are still ringing. 

“If he didn’t love you anymore, why is he crying in bed watching Riverdale? Why did you break his heart a second time, as he so dramatically put it?”

It’s like an atom bomb was dropped on you.

“Wait. You said Riverdale?”

Beomgyu nods his head. “That’s how you know it’s bad.” Then he turns back to address his fellow pilates friends. “Y/N did a classic ‘kiss-and-run.’ Today, we will help her unpack all of her feelings, and emotions. But beware; she’s incredibly emotionally repressed. Like it’s fucking terrible.” Then, Beomgyu hops off the stage, and everyone’s eyes are on you. 

“Yo? A kiss-and-run? She must be insaneee,” you hear Mark murmur. 

Maybe he was right.

++

That pilates intervention did nothing. You ended up getting stoned with Beomgyu and Jeongin after, and then immediately falling asleep as soon as you got home. Heeseung plagues your dreams. He’s a never ending nightmare -- right? Dreaming about Heeseung is a nightmare? 

The week continues on. You ignore all the advice Beomgyu and Jeongin’s pilates class gave you and instead take your own advice. You avoid and ignore the problem -- Heeseung. Hell, you don’t even like his Instagram stories. It’s serious business to you. Even at school you manage to avoid Heeseung. 

It’s a Saturday night. Wonyoung is over for dinner. “You know, Y/N,” Wonyoung speaks up suddenly as you’re loading the dishwasher and she’s searching through the fridge. “I think you’re pretty pathetic for avoiding Heeseung.” 

Being called pathetic by Wonyoung Jang of all people means you’ve hit a new low.

“Pardon?” It’s the only response you can manage.

Wonyoung shuts the fridge and smiles at you. “Well, first of all, I don’t know why you enlisted in Lily’s help. Everyone knows she’s not the best person to go to for help. And second of all, I don’t see the point in avoiding Heeseung -- you both love each other. Just go and confess and then you’ll live your life-long dream.” 

“It’s complicated,” you protest, but even to you it sounds like a weak excuse. 

“No it’s not,” Wonyoung responds, studying the various photos and reminders pinned to the surface of your fridge by the random magnets Jake buys -- he has a magnet addiction. It must be the physics part of him -- “you’re the one that’s making it complicated. You love to complicate things, don’t you?” 

This whole conversation is worse than death.

You spend the entire night replaying the conversation over and over again. Your fingers begin to twitch and you grab your phone, unlock it, and click on Heeseung’s contact, your finger hovering over the call button. 

A minute later, you throw down the phone and get up to use the toilet. You’ll never be able to work up the courage to call, or text Heeseung. Maybe this is for the best, really. Pushing open the door to the bathroom, you stop in your tracks upon the sight of Jake helping Layla pee into the toilet. 

“Oh, she’s actually getting better?” 

Jake turns and flashes a smile. “You know what they say! Practice makes perfect!” 

“Right…” you trail off. “Jake, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Jake says, grabbing some toilet paper for Layla. 

“Do you regret….it?” 

“Yes,” Jake says, without missing a beat. 

“Oh,” you don’t know why you feel so offended, but you don’t blame Jake for regretting it. A lot of friendships were ruined in the process of your relationship. 

“You know, Y/N, you’re not as emotionally repressed as you think. If you wanted, you’d be with Heeseung right now.” 

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“Sex buddies for life!” Jake grins. “Look, Y/N. You can’t blame yourself for everything that happened in college. We were stupid, you were emotional and in love and I took whatever you gave me. It’s in the past, we’re more mature now. You have a chance, and you should take it. Don’t be afraid.” 

You groan and hold your head in your hands. “I just -- I just can’t call him. I can’t. What do I even say to him?” 

“So don’t call him,” Jake says matter-of-factly. “Go see him.” 

“Go see him? At 2 in the morning?” 

“Excuses, excuses,” tsks Jake. “I’ll drive you.” 

“You’re broke and have no gas.”

“I nicked Jaehyun’s keys in the lobby earlier.”

“Jake!” 

“You’ll be thanking me later. C’mon, let’s go.” 

++

Jake pulls up to Heeseung’s apartment building. You’re sitting in the backseat since Jake insisted on Layla having the passenger’s seat. Your stomach rolls over with nerves and every gulp you take only increases the speed of your heart. 

“I feel sick,” you croak. 

“Throw up in the gutter, not in my car.”

“You mean Jaehyun’s car.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get out and go see Heeseung. Tell him you love him and want to have his babies.” 

“Alright, alright.” 

Layla barks at you as you exit the car.

“Layla says ‘fighting!’” Jake tells you. 

“Thanks Layla.” You sigh and turn to look up at the building in front of you. “I can do this,” I whisper. 

“I won’t wait for you!” 

“What?!” I exclaim, turning back around. “Why not?”

“I’m tired and need sleep, so you better make sure Heeseung accepts your love and apology otherwise you’re walking home, or sleeping on the street.” With that, Jake pulls away from the curb, leaving you standing helplessly in your cat pajamas and BTS hoodie. 

The elevator ride up to Heeeseung’s floor is the longest ride of your life. You’re sweating everywhere -- forehead, palms, armpits, elbow, behind the knees, and even your feet. You can do this. You can do this. It’s easy, just apologize and admit your love. 

The elevator door dings open revealing Heeseung. 

“Oh!”

“Oh.”

You and Heeseung stare at each other for so long, the elevator doors start to shut again. For a second, you want them to shut and take you away, but then you remember Jake’s threats, and Wonyoung’s words and you’re thrusting your hands out, stopping the doors from closing. 

“Heeseung,” You begin with a surge of confidence. “I’m sorry for running away after kissing you. That was kind of a stupid move.” 

The elevator doors begin to shut again. You thrust your hand out to stop them from closing. “Like, it was genuinely stupid because why did I do that? I mean, I’ve been in love with you for twelve years, so I should’ve stayed and kissed you more --”

You hold your hand out to stop the doors from closing. 

“--I should’ve enjoyed kissing you. But instead, I ran because apparently that’s what I’ve been doing for the past couple of years. It’s true, though, that I’ve loved you for twelve years. I loved you every second of those twelve years. I’ve never stopped. And it’s okay if you don’t love me back, even though Beomgyu told me you’re watching Riverdale. I’m sorry for making you so sad you watched Riverdale. I think that’s the worst part about all of this.”

This time, it’s Heeseung who stops the doors, letting you continue on with your monologue. You hope you’re making sense. 

“I guess this is where I say; I love you Heeseung, and I would like another chance to kiss you.” 

Heeseung doesn’t say anything when he gets into the elevator with you. He presses the lobby button, and watches the door close in silence. You’re pretty sure you’re not breathing. “Heeseung?” You ask, gently. “Are you okay?” 

Heeseung doesn’t say anything until the doors ding open, revealing the lobby. Turning to you, Heeseung takes your hand and leads you out of the elevator. “Heeseung, where are we going?” You ask, following Heeseung as he leads you out of the apartment building. 

It’s raining.

“Do you have an umbrella?” Heeseung asks, finally saying something.

You shake your head.

“I can’t be bothered going back up to get mine. Are you okay with walking in the rain?”

“Of course, as long as I’m with you.”

Cringe or not, it makes Heeseung smile. 

“Well, actually, I kind of do mind because when my hair dries after being out in the rain it gets all frizzy and --” You cut yourself off as Heeseung breaks out into a sprint, tugging you along with him. What the fuck was he on? Was he stoned, or something? Maybe he was leading you to your death. Sounds right. You, too, would murder Heeseung if he pulled a kiss-and-run on you. In fact, it would probably be a murder-suicide. 

Okay. That’s kind of morbid. 

It turns out, Heeseung took you for a run around the block. God he’s such a weirdo. And a loser. And a freak. And you’re totally in love with him. He has no flaws. He’s perfect. He’s like Prince Charming, if Prince Charming’s hobbies were hotboxing and playing every instrument known to man. 

“What the fuck, Heeseung? Why did we just run around the block?” 

“You look cute,” Heeseung responds. “I totally dig your cat pajamas. Didn’t Jay give you those?” 

“Um. Yes? Answer my question, Heeseung.” 

“I actually told Jay to buy you those.” 

“Really?”

Heeseung nods. “He was freaking out. He didn’t know what to buy you. I, as usual, was his savior.” 

“Oh, well, thank you?” 

“It’s fine,” Heeseung smiles, his eyes crinkling. “And to answer your question; I’ve always wanted to kiss someone in the rain.”

“....Okay but why did we have to get soaked?” 

“It makes the kiss more romantic.”

“How so?” 

“Want me to show you?” 

God, you don’t think you’ve ever smiled wider. You’re pretty sure you’re splitting your face in half with how wide you’re smiling. You must look ugly. Hopefully Heeseung will still want you. “Yes. Please.”

So, Heeseung shows you.

He kisses you. 

And he’s right. He’s so fucking right. You should start kissing Heeseung in the rain, while soaked, more often. 

He kisses you, and you stop shivering. He warms you from the inside out. Heeseung Lee is officially a genius. He should get a Nobel Peace Prize for kissing in the rain. 

“Wow,” you say, pulling away. You feel Heeseung’s thumbs brush over your cheeks as he cradles your face so gently. “You were right.”

“Always am. And for the record, I love you too, I accept your apology, and I’ve loved you for thirteen years.” 

“What? No you haven’t! I’ve loved you for longer!” Heeseung is a liar. He is a freak. There is no way in hell he’s loved you longer than you’ve loved him. Seriously, how blind and stupid are you? For all you know, you and Heeseung could’ve been in a twelve-year long relationship by now. Damn. You feel sick all of a sudden….curse you and your stupid self. You should ask your mom if you got dropped on the head repetitively when you were a baby.

“Yes. I’ve loved you for thirteen years. I remember when I first felt it. We were at Jay’s. It was barbeque night. You grabbed the ketchup bottle and it exploded all over your top. One of the funniest moments of my life, but it was also the moment I started loving you.” 

“....That’s not fair.” 

“Nothing in life is fair.” 

“You’re such a loser.” 

“Says the one who ran away after finally kissing me.” 

“Can we not bring that up?!” you whine. 

“Oh, I’m gonna bring it up for the rest of your life,” grins Heeseung. 

“Let’s break up.” 

“No,” Heeseung says, and kisses you again. “Also, I was expecting more of an extravagant way of professing your love for me,” he says after drawing back from the kiss. 

“Oh, I had something planned. I was going to make my kids, one by one, enter your classroom with a rose and hand it to you, and then I was gonna get the band to play "I Melt With You" by Modern English while I get down on my knees and profess my love for you.” 

Heeseung’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Really?!”

“No.” 

++

jake’s intervention: stop kissing everything

[2:45 AM]

you: heeseung and i are dating btw

you: in case anyone cares

[12 PM]

gaymansaywhat: Congrats.

[9:22 PM]

nishimura: sunoo give me 20 bucks or jungwon gets it

author’s note: idk what that ending was. it just got worse the longer i went on…. also this probs couldve been more angstier but i am currently suffering and going through the worst writers block of my life so pls forgive me. anyway stars will fall part two is being written its just. a long process. hope u enjoyed this shit show pls dont take any of it seriously 😭😭😭

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Cornflower Blue

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

❥Yandere Outlaw Song Mingi x fem reader

➯a/n: this is my darkest fic yet imo, be sure to read the contents and take care of yourself! also im super proud of this, it took like three months tbh and i still didn't get to fit in everything i wanted to. enjoy some yandere minki 💙

✃The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

♫ "You love me 'till you wear me out, then you love me more." -Cornflower Blue, Flower Face ♫"Love's never been more than pain, so Baby, show me how bad you hurt." -Dog Days, Ethel Cain ♫"My Babe would never fret about what my hands and my body done- if The Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my Baby." -Work Song, Hozier ♫"I just wanted to be yours. Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours." - Strangers, Ethel Cain ♫

✫彡wordcount: 14k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ) (>ᴗ•) genre: plot heavy smut, yandere, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE ??? wild west au, HEAVY yandere themes, murder, reader near death experience, mingi is CRAZY, bribery, manipulation, threatening, gun violence/shoot-out, injuries, invasion of privacy, 'off-screen' death of main characters, kidnapping, NSFW; multiple sex scenes, masterbation, unprotected(BOO), first time, head(reader receiving), size difference, spit, breeding kink, overstim, biiiiiig dick mingi (i'm a sucker😞), praise, dirty talk, soft sex turned rough, extreme possessiveness

not edited, definitely grammatical errors 🥲

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg @nini4m @senpai-of-doom

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Ellis~" Your sing song tone echoes out through the alleyway, crates of stored food blocking your view. "Oh, my! Is that a corn snake?" You yelled out dramatically, crouching down behind a crate.

"Where?!" The young boys voice gets closer by the second until he runs up to you and you snatch him up.

"Wraa! I got you!" He laughs loudly, an heart-full sound that rings out in the dead town. Everyone has gone besides very few to a new market up North. "I've caught you, and I'll eat you up!" You pull him up as he yells and laughs and swing him around as you twirl to the main road. "I'll have ye for supper," you laugh with your best witch-like voice.

"No, I'm not tasty!"

"No? Well... I guess I shouldn't do this then!" You playfully nom at his sweatered shoulder, tickling his ribs.

"Auntie, please, I'll do it! I'll sweep!"

You stand up like nothing ever happened and smile, "great, Miss Carmen will be most pleased." You had recruited multiple of the youngsters left behind to help you maintain the vacant homes while the market took place, and some off them were less than happy to have been roped in. "Would you like me to carry you?"

"Ye' , please!" His smile is missing a tooth, and it makes you chuckle.

You place him over your hip and begin the short walk, planning out the rest of the days chores in your head when he screams, "horsie!"

You follow the path his chubby fingers points to, and find a large figure riding in past the town sign on a similarly large white horse. His face is obscured by his large droopy hat, but that isn't what makes you suspicious at first.

The man riding into town has multiple guns on his figure.

You scramble to the side of the dirt path and hold Ellis' head to your shoulder, looking up at the stranger as he slows his horse to come to a stop right infront of you.

   "Hello, Si-"

  "Auntie, I'm scared." Despite your best efforts, the young boy had caught a glimpse of the towering and dangerous-looking man, shivering in your hold.

     You crouch down and set him down carefully, rubbing his back for a moment before you turn him in the direction you want him to go, "run off to the schoolhouse, tell Maria to come and cook up our guest a meal. You can do that, right?"

     He rubs his eyes and peeks at the man before looking back to you, nodding eagerly. "Go on and get, then." You pat his shoulder and watch him run before turning to the man.

       "Room and board, Sir?" You speak formally to the hidden man.

    "Yes." He speaks simply, swinging his leg and jumping down from the horse.

    He's no less intimidating now that he's technically level with you. He looms over you like a shadow and places a chill in your bones. "Is this place a ghost town?" He has an accent that you can't place, but you lock onto it anyhow because it's quite clear he isn't from around here. You look away from him, trying to hide your nerves at the fact that he's the first real stranger you've ever met.

    "No, Sir. Most are away to sell our spring crops." He hums shortly in response, watching you closely from under the shadow his hat casts over his eyes as you grab his horses reigns. You can feel the way his eyes bore into your every move as you begin waking, "follow me, then."

    It's a silent and most awkward walk down the deserted main street, and you can still feel his gaze burning into your back as you lead his horse into the stables.

"So, where are you from, stranger?"

     "Away." Your feeble attempt at small talk is shut down by the man immediately as he stands in the large doorway, broad shoulders nearly touching its sides.

"Very well," you step back out of the horse's temporary home, and are put in the shadow his large frame casts. "Uhm, my name is (Y/n)," you extend your hand, trying to remember your manners despite the fear in your gut.

     He takes your hand, roughly. You can't tell if he means to- or if he's just that strong. "Mingi."

     His hand is cold. It shocks you. You pull away from his grip and push past him, head lowered. You've quickly found that you don't enjoy strangers. "Miss Maria can help you get settled, show you around if you like. Nothin' much to do 'round here besides drink or play ball." You ramble on as you head to the bar, just down the road. You don't have to look behind you to know he's following. You can feel his gaze locked in on your back, that same feeling you get when men at the bar have one too many or that time when a wild boar almost got you.

      The bar isn't anything special, though nothing in the town is really. He looks around, silently. A few wooden booths and rickety tables. A pool table. A small island that separates the main floor and the bartenders area. Beyond that, he can see a kitchen. He almost thought his luck had run out when he rode into the seemingly deserted town, and then he saw you twirling the young boy into the main road.

     He nods his head, maybe subconsciously, to say he's pleased enough to stay. "Up this way," your voice echoes in the empty space, and you touch his arm ever so lightly to get his attention. The staircase is hidden by the corner, and he has to crouch to ascend them. When he does, he's pleasantly surprised.

     The room has a homey, lived in feel to it. Well, most of it. It's a large space, walls decorated with dried flowers and boxed in dead insects, chalk drawings of all kinds of things on the dark oak walls. There's a slanted shelf that's adorned with carved wooden trinkets and toys, most of which have a small layer of dust if he looks hard enough. A large open window is on the back wall, facing the town, and a dresser that fits perfectly under it. The bed on the left side of the dresser is messy, a large fur blanket that's bundled up to expose pristine white sheets.

     The part that doesn't look as lived in is on the right side of the dresser. An fresh lantern candle placed neatly on the made bed, dark red sheets and grey comforter.

     "I hope you don't mind a roommate... I'm not here for the most part, I won't be in your hair." You're shuffling around quickly, hiding a few things that he didn't get to inspect into the left side of the dresser. "You can," you gulp, clearly uncomfortable with the silent man, "you can put your things away in these drawers if you like."

He stands, like a scarecrow, holding his rucksack tightly. When he moves, you flinch, sliding closer to what he now placed together is your bed. He chooses to ignore that, sitting down on the other bed and feeling the soft fabric. "You own this place?"

You're taken aback by his unprovoked speaking, gathering you thoughts as you sit across from him on your own bed. "Uh, no. A man named Louis owns this and the bar."

"Hm. And you?"

"I work down in the bar, bartending and such. So he lets me stay."

A small smirk plays at his lips, hidden by his hat as he looks around again. You've clearly lived here a long while. There's more to your story than just working downstairs. "Kind of him."

    "Very. You may be able to thank him for his hospitality, he gets back in a few days." You pause for a moment before you ask tentatively, "how long will you be staying?"

     He stands and turns his back to you as he takes off his hat, beginning to unpack his bag. "Few weeks maybe."

    "Ah," you draw quietly, anxiety growing in your gut. The very few visitors you could remember stayed for only days, if that. Even then, they weren't total strangers. They were people that others in town knew from the market or city.

    "Hope you don't mind a roommate," he turns back around and tosses a look your way as he starts to fold his clothing into the unoccupied drawers. And if the air wasn't gone from your lungs by now, it is now. This stranger, Mingi, is the most handsome being you've ever laid your eyes upon.

     His eyebrows are softly arched, beautifully curved nose and lips. And his eyes- oh, his eyes. You swear you could get lost in them. And it seems you do, staring at the man despite the fact your intuition is telling you to look away. "Handsome, I know."

    A heat flushes your face and you force yourself to look away as he smirks your way, "w-well, you know, uh- let me go and fetch Miss Maria, you must be famished!"

     With that, you're down the stairs and out the bar. He watches as you speed walk away through the window, blissfully unaware that he's opened up your drawers to have a deeper look into his roommate.

༄

You dodged the handsome stranger until you no longer could, the sun was setting and there were no more excuses to be found to avoid going back home. He wasn't in the room when you returned, but the bathroom door was closed and you could see the flickering of a candle from the cracks.

    You lit a few candles on the dresser before the sun fully set, taking some deep breaths as you heard him moving around. You remove your boots, a groan of relief settling behind your lips as you wiggle your toes.

    As you're unfolding your night gown, the door to the bathroom creaks open. "Hello, Miss," he greets, much warmer than his earlier aura.

     "Mingi," you greet back with a small smile, "have you found your way around well?" You shift your weight uncomfortably as he tilts his head at you, as if he's trying to read you.

    "Mhm, this ghost town isn't as bad as I thought," he sits down on his bed, rolling his head with a groan.

     "Very good, maybe when the other return you'll find it even better." You can't wait for the day. His presence makes you... uneasy, is the best way to put it. You know he could easily over power you and the others. Elderly, young, and women who don't have a single idea of self defense. Maybe that was stupid on your towns part- but you needed all of the hands on deck to sell the bountiful harvest.

      You excuse yourself and lock the bathroom door behind you, double checking before you begin to remove your day clothes. As you change, you start to wonder if maybe Mingi was just uncomfortable around strangers as well. He's seemed to have warmed up quite a bit to you. You'll have to ask Maria in the morning about their encounter.

     Perhaps he won't be as bad as you expected- "Oh, dear me!" You stumble as you re-enter the room, covering your eyes with your hands. "Uhm, Mingi?"

    "I'm just cleaning my wound," he chuckles, watching you with a glint in his eyes.

      You peek through your fingers, keeping your hands to your face to hide.

    Indeed, he's shirtless. Your eyes hadn't played a trick on you.

      You swallow the gathering wetness in your mouth as you peer at his naked torso. He's slim, toned in all the right places. His arms are something of a dream to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from them as sinful thoughts begin growing in your mind.

    Instead, you take a look at the wound he referred to.  A shallow gash going from his hip around and around to his back. The edges of it are already scarring, leaving only the middle of it as a wound.

You slowly approach the end of his bed, hands resting on the metal bed frame. "May I ask?"

"Every man his enemies. Mine happen to be good with throwing knives."

"Is that why you carry all those weapons?" The question has been nagging you. He has so many. And you don't like them. You don't like that they are in your home. He's left them on his side of the dresser.

"Perhaps." He groans as he tries to reach around and clean the part of the cut that stretches onto his back. "Would... would you be so kind, (Y/n)?"

It's your turn to be the silent type. You move to sit beside him, taking the damp rag and jar of salve with shaking hands. You haven't been this close to him until now. You haven't been this close to any man, really.

He smells shockingly good.

He shivers as you begin cleaning up his wound, and you apologize under your breath.

Unbeknownst to you, that was not a shiver of pain.

He's always been the nosy type. He couldn't help himself but try to get to know you through your belongings while you were gone. And he struck a pot of gold when he found your diary.

The entries dated back seven years. And he read through all seven of them. With every word, he became more and more infatuated with you. And your touch on his body solidified that infatuation. It felt right. Your innocent, helping touch turned his infatuation into something more sinister.

So, no. It was not a shiver of pain.

"There you go," you can't help but stroke the large expanse of his back once you've finished, it's a work of art. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

But, oh, does he. He has to bite his lip to hold back a moan, looking down at his lap. His member twitching to life from the smallest, most pure of your touches. "Thank you kindly." He forces out, breathily.

You're in your own bed much to quickly for his liking, hiding under your blanket. "Goodnight, Mingi. I shall see you in the morning."

༄

     "Hello, stranger," you smile at him as steps out of the building, earning one back. "Slept well, I hope?"

    "Very, thank you." He takes a seat on the steps of the bar next to you and watches the sun grow higher in the sky. "May I ask you a personal question, (Y/n)?"

     "I suppose so," you shift slightly, toying with the strings on your boots. While your knees are pulled up to the step just below your bottom, his feet stretch all the way off of the steps and onto the dirt.

    "Where is your family?"

    "I'm sorry?"

   "Well... it's just, you're a beautiful young woman. Don't you have a husband and a couple of rug-rats?"

    "Rug-rats," you repeated with a chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no rug-rats."

"And a husband?"

"The closest I have to a husband is Castle... my mutt." You look to him with a bigger smile, your nerves and anxiety around him unwinding. When he laughs, you feel a flutter in your stomach that makes them disappear completely.

You turn back to the sun as it rises, trying to convince yourself that the heat you feel on your cheeks is from the warmness of it. "Why do you ask?"

He hums, leaning back on his elbows and allowing his eyes to flick up and down as they observe you. "Wanted to know my chances."

"Oh!" You look back at him, his eyes shining with that glint once more, "the cow boy is a flirt? I see."

"I'm not a cowboy."

"No?" You lean back and join him, crossing your legs. Maria had told you just earlier that he was strange, that she sensed a darkness about him. But you only felt warmth and light. "What are you then, Mingi?"

"An outlaw." The smirk on his lips makes you think he's joking, and you let out a laugh.

If only you knew that Mingi was being truthful.

༄

      The wagons roll into town the next morning, bright and early. You're still asleep when the first one comes, but the happy hollering from Maria wakes you and Mingi both with a start.

    He's dazed and confused, rolling around and glaring at at ceiling above him. While you, well you nearly jump out of your skin to run downstairs.

     Still in your nightgown and soft socks, you almost slip and fall as you jump off of the last stair and slide into the main area. "Lou!" You collide into him and sway happily as the older man lifts you up in his arms.

"There's my girl! You been holdin' us down?" He sets you down carefully and inspects you, making sure you've been kept safe in his time away.

"You know I have," you give him a wide and toothy smile, "how was the new market?"

"Oh, it was wonderful, dear! Next time I should take you both with me, so many new things," he reaches into his satchel, handing his wife something small and shiney.

Mingi, in his own sleep clothes- a loose pair of pants, slowly descends the stairs, silent as a mouse as he watches the three of you.

Miss Maria, the older woman with a scarf permanently affixed to her head, looks down at the ring with a teary smile. "Oh, Louis, you shouldn't have." You lift yourself up and sit on one of the tables, watching the two kiss with a small smile.

"Why shouldn't I? A man is meant to spoil his wife, isn't that what I always say? Besides, we made quite the profit this time around." His wrinkled hand cups her cheek, and you can't help but coo at their affection.

"Y'all are too stinkin' cute." Maria looks away bashfully, admiring the ring on her hand. While Louis turns to you with a smile, which fades as quickly as it came.

"And who is this?" His hand is on his belt, twitching at his pistol as he spots Mingi coming up behind you. You turn, and then back, moving his hand away from his weapon.

"That's Mingi, he got here a few days ago. A traveler." You don't know if that last part is necessarily true. Mingi never did tell you why he was passing by your isolated town. "He's quite alright."

"He's half naked- and so are you! Young lady-"

"Lou!" Maria is flabbergasted by what he seems to be implying, while you don't seem to see the innuendo. Of course you are? You just awoke.

Mingi stays silent, and simply extends his hand to Louis. When he doesn't take it, he puts it back to his side, joining you at the table. It seems to you that Mingi is indeed weary of strangers. He seems only comfortable with you. Yesterday, he followed you around almost like a lost dog. Insisting that he wanted to help you with your daily chores.

His eyes flick down to your chest. Sure, he's seen you in your nightgown. But that was in the moon or candle light. The sunlight from the many bar windows exposes just how sheer it is. He can see your nipples if he looks hard enough. And, oh, he's looking.

And Louis notices, ears flushing red with anger as the strange traveler looks you up and down. "Alright, dear, go get dressed."

"Oh, but I wish to hear of the market! Unc-"

"Now, (Y/n)."

With a sigh, you slide off of the table, patting Mingis exposed shoulder as you pass him. He goes to follow you back upstairs when Louis grips his wrist. Hard.

Maria is fiddling with her new ring, almost cowering behind her husband as she feels Mingis aura once again. She can't seem to pinpoint why. But she doesn't like this man one bit. He's done nothing to her, to anyone for that matter. But she feels an evilness seep from his gaze.

"Have a seat, Mingi." Louis doesn't seem to like him either. Maybe because of his silent demeanor or the way he was ogling you.

He does so, with a bored expression, plopping down on one of the wooden booths. Louis slides into the booth seat across from him, waving Maria off. She doesn't need to be told twice. She doesn't want to be near that man for one second more than necessary.

Alone in the seating area, the two men stare silently at one another. As if sizing each other up.

Louis is the first one to break, reaching into his pocket. A rusted old locket is slid across the scratched table top, and Mingi catches it before it falls into his lap.

As he opens it up, he sees a picture of two people in either of the slots. One, a woman with a wide smile. The other, a man looking down at the baby held to his chest. Their features seem... familiar.

"Her parents."

He looks up slowly, and sees the older man leaning back, "I'm sorry?"

"Those are her parents. My little sister and her husband. Died seven years ago. Train crash. Hit a cow on the tracks. Hate those damned things. They can't slow down quick enough to avoid hittin' something."

It's silent again, save for the sounds of Maria cooking up a storm in the back of the kitchen.

He looks down at the pictures again. Seven years ago... that's when your diary entries start. But you never mentioned the crash. Did you just decide to forget about it? Move on?

Louis can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he looks at the worn photo. Before Mingi can ask, Louis is answering. "I seen the way you looked at my little girl. The same way I look at my Maria. So Imma tell you," he points to the locket, "I made a promise the day that train crashed. You know what that promise was?"

"No."

"That I'd gut anyone who ever laid an evil finger on that girl."

"Maria!" They hear you coming back down, and Louis snatches up the locket from Mingis hands as he stands. You stop briefly and look at them, but move on when you see Louis smiling down at him. "Have you seen my vest?" Your voice grows distant as you join your Aunt in the kitchen, unaware that the smile was followed by a threat.

"Don't make me gut you, boy."

༄

"You're so soft," you mutter as you brush the white mare with your fingers, stood just outside of her stable. She neighs loudly at you. "Oh, I know. So many strange horses, you must be frightened."

The once empty stable house was now filled again, everyone was back in town by high-noon. She seems like her owner, and like you. She doesn't like strangers. She nearly kicked the short door down when you approached with a handful of hay.

A few minutes later, she's letting you pet her. You're stood on a stool, bent over the edge of the door to dust the dirt off of her white coat. "You're a sweet girl, huh?" You smile at the animal, receiving more neighs in response.

"Who you talking to?"

The abrupt interruption makes you stumble, nearly falling off of the wobbly stool. You steady yourself on the door and look back, throwing a smile his way when you see it's Mingi. "Your horse."

He joins your side at the door, holding his hand out to his mare. "You know she can't talk back, right?"

"Don't mean she can't listen."

He smiles at your response. You really are a kind soul, giving affection to an animal that can't give you anything in return.

"Busy, Miss (Y/n)?"

You shake your head. Nobody has come by the bar yet, and you don't think anyone will for a while. They're all spending time with their families.

"How about a ride, then?" He's opening up the door before you can respond, making your upper body follow it, legs outstretched to stay on the stool.

"Oh- I don't... I don't know how."

He keeps putting the saddle on the horse despite your words, a smile playing at his lips. By the way your smiling as well, he knows you want to. "I can teach you. Are you afraid?"

     "I must admit... a bit."

    "Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

    "Really?"

    "Mhm."

      You hop down from the stool and move it out of the way as Mingi walks the mare out of her stable, following close behind him with a wide smile. You get a few strange looks from townspeople as you and the towering stranger stop in the middle of the main dirt road.

     One pair of eyes watches you even closer. Louis stands from his rocking chair on the porch of the bar, staring dumbfounded as Mingi picks you up and helps you onto the animal. Jaw dropped as he hops up and sits in the saddle right behind you, hands guiding yours to hold the reigns. Before he can even get off of the porch, the both of you are galloping out of town.

     The cool October air against your face as you slowly gain speed feels freeing, like it's washing your very soul. Your nerves are still shaking a bit, and you lean your back into Mingis chest, holding onto the reigns tightly. You jump ever so slightly when one of his hands rests over your stomach, gently holding you.

     "Don't worry," he says, "I've been riding since I was a child."

And so, you don't worry. You let the freeing feeling wash over you, relaxing into him and letting the mare take you where ever she pleases. Which just so happens to be the furthest you can ever remember being from town. You nearly forget that Mingi is even with you until you feel his hand move away from your stomach.

He grabs the reigns, his hand over yours as he pull her head back carefully, slowing her to a stop in the middle of a field. He pulls your hands back with his and settles them in your lap, atop of your bundled up skirts.

She lowers her head and starts chewing on some of the green grass. You look up at the sky, clear and bright.

"Not so scary, right?" Mingi speaks up gently, his hands never leaving your own as he looks up at the baby blue with you.

"Not at all, though maybe it's because you did all of the work," you let out a small laugh, turning your hands palms up and letting him weave his fingers into yours, enveloping you in warmth. "Is this what your life is like?"

The endless expanse of nature staring back at you, birds chirping their lovely songs.

"For the most part." He doesn't want to tell you about the other parts of his life. The bloody and harsh parts. You don't need to hear about that. Not when you're so pure and soft in comparison.

"I like it. I can see why you don't settle, cowboy."

"I'm not a cowboy."

A grin on both your faces, a comfortable silence overcomes you for a moment. He leans and slowly, almost nervously, rests his forehead on your shoulder. When you don't make a move to lean away, he absolutely melts into you. His heart beating loudly in his ears, he's shocked you haven't looked back to look for a marching band with how loud it is.

"I think I may stay a little while longer," he whispers tenderly into your back.

"I think I may like that."

You revel in each others touch for a few more moments before he moves, scooting back away from your backside. "Let's stretch our legs." Before you can complain, he's jumped off the horse and is holding out his arms for you. Deciding 'why not', you lean over and let him essentially pull you off her back.

You stretch your arms over your head as you wander, smiling back at him.

Oh, he could get addicted to that smile.

Directed at him, and him alone.

He watches with a flicker in his eyes as you start gathering wild flowers, folding up the rim of his hat to get a better look. You start braiding them together, fingers working nimbly. The song of nature overcoming you as you work, and he admires from a few feet away.

You look like an angel, the sun beaming down on you and shining from behind you like a halo as you turn and face him. "Crouch down, big boy," you tease him softly, a heat creeping up your face as you see him blushing.

He leans down, letting you affix the flowers around his hat. When he comes back up, he does a small twirl, "how do I look?"

"Pretty!" It slips your lips before you have the chance to think, and it makes him blush all the harder.

"Let me see," he takes his hat off, short hair wild and blowing with the breeze.

He pulls the hat over your head in the next second, and the large accessory falls over your eyes. He laughs, hand over his mouth as you tilt your head up and peek at him from under the rim. "How do I look?"

"Like a doll," he exclaims breathlessly, eyes not leaving you for a single second as he takes in the sight of you in his hat. The wind blowing your loose hairs and skirts. A shy smile stretching your lips as you look away, admiring the sky as he admires you.

"Oh, hush."

"It's only true." He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders loosely.

You have to remember how to breath as he looks over your shoulder at you, shit-eating-smirk on his lips. "Doll~"

"We should head back!" You squeal, ducking out of his arms as heat overwhelms your body. He only laughs, and the melodic sound echoes in the field.

"Alright then, up you get," he hoists you back onto the saddle, hands lingering on your exposed thighs as your skirt pools around your hips while he hooks his boot into the stirrup.

And you're off again, this time slowly. Like he knows that you crave to spend time with him as much as he does you.

༄

It's a few days later when he awakes in the night. The moon his only source of light. His breaths uneven and heavy.

Why did he have to wake up? That dream was ethereal, it nearly made him ascend to the heavens.

He groans as he flips onto his stomach, not a atom of shock in his being as he feels his hardness pressing into the mattress. Not after he just experienced the wettest dream of his life.

You looked like a Goddess below him, head tossed to the side and exposing all of the marks he left on your neck. The bed rocked in time with the yells of his names that left your bruised lips. Over and over. Louder and louder. Your eyes rolled back, your chest rising and falling as you tried desperately to keep up with his pace.

He's certain that's your rightful place, taking his cock and calling his name, soul intertwined with his. "Fuck..." Just six days and you have him wrapped around your little finger. He's never felt like this. You must be the one.

    He can't help but look over at your bed across the room as his hand travels into his pants. His eyes nearly flutter shut, but he forces them open once again.

You're a restless sleeper, he's discovered. Your torso is pressed into the mattress while your hips are rotated slightly up, one leg hiked up and making your nightgown slip past the round of your ass.

God, your subconscious must know what he's doing.

That's the only 'reasonable' conclusion Mingis lustful mind can come to as you moan in your sleep, rolling onto your back and spread your legs to get comfortable. It takes every fiber of self control in him not to pounce on you and take you right there.

He's content to fuck himself silly for the moment, and he's almost ashamed at how fast his release comes- but he can't help it. You look so fucking delectable and he hasn't touched himself since before he rolled into town.

He bites into his pillow with a growl, eyes never leaving your peaceful form until he's overstimulated himself into oblivion. His arm sore and cock even sorer, he finally lets up, breathing heavily into the quiet night.

As he slinks to the bathroom and cleans himself up, he wonders what it would be like to feel your body close to him after such a release. Well-

Why not find out?

He leans over your bed with tears in his eyes, gently grabbing your arm and calling out to you.

"Min?" The nickname that you utter while half asleep almost has him ready to go again, but he pushes it away as you sit up groggily and look at him with concern written on your face.

"I don't feel too well, Doll... Can I sleep with you? Keep me warm?"

You feel his head with the back of your hand, a frown on your face as you feel his heated flesh- unknowing of the true cause.

"Mh, come on, big boy," you scoot to the wall that your beds on and lift your fur blanket, a sleepy smile on your features as he dives into the bed. The metal frame creaks under both of your weight but neither of you pay it any mind.

He melts into your body heat, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close.

It's so much better than he imagined.

༄

That's the best sleep you've ever had. You felt so safe and warm. And Mingi doesn't feel any different, he hasn't had a restful sleep like that since he was only a boy. You seem to have kept his reoccurring nightmares of his past away.

All the damage he's done and all the pain he's endured, wiped away as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Your legs are tangled together, arms wrapped around one another. Your head in his neck and his chin resting gently on top of it. Soft, gentle breaths as the both of you wake.

Rain beats down on the roof, creating a soft and steady melody.

Neither of you can tell how much time has elapsed, but it doesn't seem like it's ever enough. So when you finally sit up, a pout forms on his features.

You feel his forehead, a smile on yours. "No fever."

"Hm, maybe a night bug." He sits up and swings his legs over the bed, facing into the room to hide his growing blush as the memories of his dream flood his mind.

He feels the bed shift under your weight as you crawl up behind him. "I had a dream last night," you whisper as you gently rub up his back.

"Mh?"

"Mhm." Your heart flutters as you muster up the courage to continue speaking, "a dream of you and I."

"Oh, do tell."

And tell, you do.

"Well... it began with you and I, sat in the bar. A few too many drinks in our bodies. A few kisses... A few touches... and then we came up here." His breath hitches in his throat, surely he's still dreaming. This is an elaborate trick of the brain. "Mingi?"

"Y-yes?" He wants to both explode with joy and collapse with embarrassment.

"Will you touch me? Will you kiss me? I'm sorry if that's wildly inappropriate- oh it is, I'm so ter-"

Your rambling is cut off as his lips collide with yours ever so softly. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other finds purchase on the small of your back.

He slowly pushes his weight onto you, laying you down on your back as your lips meld together. A curse falls past his lips as you ghost your fingertips over his abs.

He kisses down your jaw, savoring every inch of your skin until he reaches your covered breasts. He looks up, and the look in his eyes makes the heat in your belly grow ten-fold. "Can I see you?"

With the slightest nod of your head, he's slipped the straps of your nightgown down and tugged it down past your chest. His mind is racing. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers, voice rough and barely heard over the storm raging outside.

His calloused hands trail down your chest, ghosting over the pebbled flesh on your breast and down to your skirt. You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he lifts it up, letting your entire nightdress rest in a bunch on your stomach. He's already panting, and he hasn't even touched you.

You're just so beautiful. You're a Goddess in his eyes.

He smiles up at you as he lowers himself, your legs spread by his wide shoulders. "I'm going to make you cum your brains out, Doll~"

Before you can even question what he means, his tongue is darting out and swiping up the length of your cunt. "Ah!" Your back is arched off the bed at the simple motion, and it solidifies his theory that you're a virgin. Your keening at the littlest bit of attention, your poor neglected pussy is begging for more.

You slap your hand over your mouth at the noise, looking shocked that it even came from you. He can't help the chuckle that vibrates in his throat- that is, before his taste buds register the most delicious, mind blowing juice he's ever had the pleasure of putting in his mouth. "Oh, fuck..." Then he's just as flustered as you are, diving back in between your thighs like a man starved.

     The little noises that manage to slip past your hand urge him on even more than the way that your wetness just keeps coming and coming and coming as he slurps it all up. His tongue darts and licks and rolls all over you, and you can't even register all of the pleasure you're getting from it- it feels that good.

     He slips his arms under your thighs and grips them tightly to ground himself as he allows himself to drown in you. He lets his instincts do all of the work, enjoying himself more than he ever has. His nose nudges against your clit as he slurps noisily.

     The way you taste. The way you smell. The way you sound. The way you feel.

     All of it. All of you. He's going mad with lust. With love. He's going to explode, he truly believes it. And then you call his name.

      "Mingi—"

    So sweet and desperate, absolute music to his red hot ears as he sucks the bundle of nerves above your sopping wet heat. He doesn't even register that you've cum all over his chin until youre tugging at his hair roughly and forcing him away from your throbbing pussy.

     He moans out loud as you harshly pull him away, jaw dropped as he pants. "You taste so good, Doll," he slurs drunkenly. Your essence has gotten him drunker than any alcohol ever could.

     You're panting even heavier, chest rising and falling quickly as you tremble in the aftershocks of your first orgasm that's come from another person. 

     He rubs his finger tips over your thighs gently, luring you back down to Earth as he gawks at you. You swear that there's hearts in his shining eyes.

     "W-" your attempt at words comes out as jumbled whine, and you let yourself fall back into the pillow.

     "It's okay, Baby," he coos, licking his lips as he sits up, folding his legs under him and pulling your limp hips into his lap.

     The new nickname makes your cunt twitch, and he catches it. "Oh, you like that, hm?" His index and middle finger spread you wide, and he purses his lips- spitting directly onto your sensitive hole. "C'mon, talk to me, pretty Baby."

      "G-god!" You cry out embarrassedly, forever thankful for the angry storm outside that hides your sounds from any neighbors. "Yes, I do, I really do," you draw out, grabbing the sides of his thighs as he teases your entrance. You're still hyper sensitive, twitching with every small movement he makes.

    And he absolutely revels in it.

    "Yeah? I bet no one ever made you feel that good before," he smirks, letting another wad of spit hit your hole.

     "Nuh-uh," you shake your head, peering up at him, and your next words make it hard for him to keep his composure. "Stay. Stay here and- and fuck me."

     Little do you know, after that first night- he lost any plans he had of ever leaving.

"I will never leave you," and he means it. He has no plans of ever letting you go. And he's about to let you know that.

       He slides you back off his lap and lays over you, holding your head with one hand as the other guides his leaking tip into you. "Oh, ngh," you whine, holding onto his biceps tightly. He bites his lips as he feels your walls for the first time. So warm and tight around him. So soft. "M-min, be gentle," you whimper, leaning up and hiding in his chest.

     "Don't worry, Doll, we'll go slow" he strokes your head gently, slowly -oh, so slowly- sinking into your tight core. "Such a pretty little thing, so fuckin' tight f'me," he growls, and again as the noise makes you clench around him. "Gonna have to stretch your little pussy out before I can even move, you've got me in a fucking vice, Baby."

       "Mingi, d-don't talk like that, it's dirty," you pant into his chest, the warm air making goosebumps form.

     "Well, look at you," he nearly purrs, pulling your head back from his chest gently, "look." You blink a few times, taking in the sinful scene.

    Your legs spread around his slowly moving hips. His thick monster of a cock gradually disappearing into your stretched folds.

     "Can't not be dirty while we're breaking in this cute little cunt," he says matter-of-factly, looking down at said cunt while it clenches around the half of his cock that's he's managed to sink in. A lewd moan leaves his parted lips, looking back to you as you whimper and fidget. "Hey, hey," he coos, cupping your face in his palms. "Half way there, Doll. How's it feel?"

     "Like you're gonna split me in half," you ramble out, looking up at him with the softest eyes he's ever seen. "Please, c-can we take a break? You're jus' so big..."

     "Of course, sweet girl," he leans down, careful to keep his hips locked despite how badly he just want to slam into your welcoming heat, and kisses you. Stroking your cheek bones with his thumbs. "You feel so good, like heaven." 

    The praise makes your rapidly beating heart skip a beat. "Mingi?"

    "Yes," he moans in response, looking deep into your eyes.

    "I think I'm falling in love with you." The sudden confession makes his cock twitch, his heart jumping into his throat. "Is that silly?"

     He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, which are admittedly a chaotic mess.

    "If it is, we would be silly together."

     "You mean-"

    "Yes."

    You grip his shoulders and lean up, pressing your lips to his in an act of pure desire. The both of you get lost in each other, tongues darting out and lapping at one another like a lifeline.

    Sufficiently covered in each others spit, you pull back. "Keep going, I want to take all of you." You have a newfound confidence after your short trade of admissions, demanding that he go on and fuck you.

      A few more moments of excruciating stretching pass when you suddenly feel his pelvis flush with your clit, both of you panting like wild animals as you feel each other completely.

     "Holy shit, Baby," he sneers, resting his face in the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths of your scent to keep himself from jack hammering into you. You are truly the best thing to ever happen to him, and your cunt molding into the shape of him is just a bonus.

      There are no words that you can find in your brain. All if it is wiped away as you feel his rock hard cock stretching you out, filling you wall to wall. When he breaths out, a content sigh into your neck, you feel the veins on his length pressing into your gummy walls. "Hah~" Is all you can manage, thoughts turned into mush as he begins to slowly pull back out- just an fraction of an inch. Before sliding back in quickly. "Fuck!"

     "Doll, please, please," he whimpers, holding onto your waist tightly as he rolls his hips, "please say you're ready, I don't know how long I can take it."

    "Y-" the second the first syllable is utter from your lips, he's already pulled out half way, "yes!" He thrust back in, steady and slow at first.

Words are lost between you - minds absolutely flooding with hormones as he begins thrusting harder, faster. Moans, groans, loud whimpers. The slapping of your skin is so loud that even the rain pounding at the window can't drown it out.

He's stuffing you beyond your wildest imagination. His cock was made to stretch you so deliciously, and your pussy was made to take it.

It's his dream coming to life, quite literally, as your eyes roll back to the depths of your head and you're squeezing him tighter than before. It's almost impossible for him to keep thrusting, but he finds a way.

He grips your hips tight and is making you bounce on his cock effortlessly, all the while pounding his hips into yours. He's so deep inside of you, it feels like he can feel the same coil in your gut that you do. And it's about shatter.

He slips a hand down and begins swirling his fingers over your clit, pushing you off the edge roughly, making you cream over his member with a broken yell of his name. He leans in, all of his weight on you as fucks you through it harshly. His lips right next to your ear.

"You. Are. Mine."

And with that, a warmth like no other spreads inside of you.

༄

Nearly two months passed like they were nothing, days seemed to fly with you by his side.

     He felt he finally had a place where he belonged.

    He found himself work cleaning peoples guns in the bar, even selling and trading some.

    He had a bed to go to at the end of the day. After that first time together, you both rearranged the room. Pushing your beds together under the window and putting the dresser on the wall.

     He had the other half of his soul. You. He knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything there was to know about him. Well- all he was willing to tell. Sometimes, there was a dark glint in his eyes that made you feel like you didn't know the full story of the man you shared your life with. But all doubt faded away when he smiled at you.

     All was well- more than well. It was perfect.

      Until a group of strangers rode into town. Strangers to the town. But strangers to Mingi, they were not.

     He walked into the bar and Mingis heart stopped. He saw all of his hard work to get you, to settle, to make a life- all of it- vanish. It disappeared.

     "Fuck me," he groans, keeping his head low and cursing himself for not wearing his hat today. He hopes that he'll go unnoticed. But that hope is squashed when the man slides into the booth across from him.

     "Well, slap my ass and call me Pamela. Song Mingi!" The rowdy man immediately catches Louis' attention from behind the bar.

     "Why are you here, Buck?" Mingi keeps his tone low, hostile.

   "You know why I'm here. You want in?" The man, Buck, has a smirk playing mischievously on his lips.

     "No. You, and whoever else you drug into this town are leaving. This town is off limits."

     Buck lets out a shrill chuckle, "says who?"

     "Says me. This is my town. Get the fuck out before I shoot you." Mingi growls, placing his pistol on the table, finger twitching at the trigger.

      That gets Louis' full attention, his hand immediately unlocking the safety on his gun as he makes his way over. "Mingi, who's your friend?" He hates to admit, but he's grown fond of Mingi over these long winter days.

     "He's leaving. Ain't that right?" Mingi tilts his head at Buck, who takes a look around. Multiple patrons of the bar have their hands on their guns, ready to draw.

     He isn't stupid. Mingi is apart of these people now and they'll protect him.

    "Yeah, that's right." He slides out of the booth, giving Mingi a seemingly innocent smile. But Mingi knows him all too well. "I'm glad you finally found yourself a nice girl to settle down with."

      With that finally threatening congratulations, he's back out the bar the way he came. Mingi watches from the window with wide eyes as he joins the posse of men outside. As soon as they start wandering away, looking into shops and other such buildings Mingi has come to be so fond of, he snaps into action.

    He runs up the stairs, nearly bumping his head. They've been casing the town, that's the only way he'd know about you.

      "Mingi!" Louis follows after him, slowed by age.

     He finds him reaching under the bed, staring bamboozled as he places gun after gun after gun into the mattress. "Mingi!"

      He ignores the panicking man, loading all of them up. "Son!" His head snaps up, tears threatening his waterline.

      "Louis, they're going to raid the town."

"What...?"

"I don't have time to explain, I have to go- go get (Y/n). You need to gather everyone who knows how to shoot. I n-"

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."

"Listen to me, Louis!" He clearly panicked, an expression he's never seen from him before. "What reason do I have to lie? This is my home too! This is my home and my woman, and I'll be damned if I let Buckey fuck-face and his thugs ruin it!" In his panic, Mingi doesn't notice the ring that falls from his bag as he gets out more ammunition.

Louis bends down next to Mingi and picks it up, puzzle pieces falling together in his mind.

Mingi snatches it back and shoves it in the bag.

"You're gonna propose to my little girl?"

"Not if we all die," Mingi responds shortly, shoving an armful of guns into Louis.

   They share a look.

    It seems Mingi made a similar promise to himself about you.

"Go and fetch her, don't raise any suspicion. If the townspeople know what's coming, it'll start a panic."

Mingi gives him a short nod. To say yes, sir. To say thank you.

He keeps his head down, hat covering his face as he weaves his way to the very back of the town. Trying his damnedest to avoid everyone from his past.

When he successfully makes it to the river, he spots you and is filled with relief.

    You hum quietly to yourself, bundled up in his large poncho to protect yourself from the frigid January weather as you clean your clothes.

    The harsh winds whip your loose hairs around, makes the clothes on the line flap loudly.

"(Y/n)!"

"Hey, Darlin-" He pulls you up, holding you close to his side as he drags you away, "what're you doing?"

"Just keep your head down, when we get back to the bar, go to our room, lock yourself in the bathroom. Okay?"

"Min, you're scarin' me..."

"Do you understand?" He asks firmly, stopping at the edge of town, turning you to face him.

He looks deadly serious. You haven't seen this kind of look since the first day you met. So you nod, committing what he said to memory.

"I love you," he kisses you deeply, shortly.

And then he drags you through town, and into the bar. But he pushes you right behind him when you walk in.

Buck has Miss Maria and Louis tied up, pushed to the floor. The few patrons are gone, and the yelling outside tells him Louis' plan to keep things calm has failed. Multiple men are rummaging around the bar, cleaning out the register. He can't hear any noise above them, and he's thankful that the entrance to your small home is so well hidden by the corner. 

     He feels you grip the back of his leather jacket, and he's about to turn and tell you to run when he feels you get ripped away.

     Your scream echos in the building as one of Bucks men tears you away, and Mingi has to stop himself from shooting the man the second he puts his hands on you. Doing that will just get you all killed.

He's deadly silent as he watches the man toss you to the floor. His gun was drawn the second you got tore away, and he's itching to use it.

You try to scramble away, but Buck comes up behind you and places his boot on your back, shoving you back down with a thud. Maria is sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, Louis' jaw is locked in anger as he looks away.

He bends down, putting more pressure on your spine. He grips your hair and turns your face to the side. "Well, well," he smirks, "you're even prettier up close, ain't you?"

Everyone stops in their tracks as you spit in his face. "Fuck you!" One of the men closest to you has a gun to your head in the next second, but you refuse to break.

"Feisty, I like that," he shoves your head to the floor, hitting it against it roughly. Mingi is seeing red as the world around him resumes, men ransacking the bar and chortling at your family. His family.

      "Buck."

   "Oh?" He turns, leaving you on the floor, "got something to say, pansy?"

     "Yeah." His eyes flick to yours as you push yourself up dizzily, and over to one of the booths before Buck even realizes he's looked away. "You need a key for the safe. I gonna give it to you, and youre gonna take it and leave."

     "Is that so? That's what's gonna happen?"

   "That's what's gonna happen."

   "You really lost your guts, aye? Found a nice girl and a cozy town and decided you're too good for this life, I see."

    Mingi slips his pistol back into its holster on his hip, sauntering over to the bar with all eyes on him. He stands infront of Maria and Louis, shielding them from what's about to come. "You see it how it is, then." He lifts up the pot of dying chrysanthemums in the middle of the wooden island and scoops up the key. His eyes spot you curling up under the booth he glanced at. Thank goodness you got the message.

      Cause shit is about to hit the fan.

    He tosses the key to Buck, and as his hands raise up to catch it-

     He puts a bullet in his brain.

     You can't help the scream that rips past your lips, covering your ears and hiding your face in your knees.

    As the men behind the bar start shooting at him, he ducks, shielding the older couple as the men infront of them begin firing. But he's too quick. Only one of them gets close, grazing his shoulder and stunning him briefly. He drops his pistol and takes the larger gun off of his back, propping it up over the island blindly and spraying the rest of the men in a hail of bullets.

     And then all is silent.

    With a heavy heart, you look up from your lap. The building is covered in blood, light seeps in from the holes in the walls caused by stray bullets. Maria is crying silently. Louis is looking at Mingi in shock as he falls onto his backside, holding his bleeding shoulder. 

     "What the hell was that, boy?"

     "That was me saving your ass."

༄

    Mingi and Louis, with the help of a few good samaritans, cleared the bodies out of the bar and drug them to the outskirts of town. Leaving them for the coyotes and bears. If it were up to him, Mingi would have hung them up as an example.

     Maria, seemingly in shock, scrubs the floor with a blank face as you fix up the register and dig out all of the bars belongings from the bandits bags.

     You feel a roll of papers at the bottom of one of the bag. A silent hum of amusement leaves you as you see what it is. They kept their own wanted posters. Proud of what they've done. You flip through them. Maybe out of morbid curiosity of who your boyfriend just gunned down.  And then you get to one who you know wasn't a victim.

     Because he was the gunner.

    Mingis face in a sketch stares up at you.

    WANTED.

    DO NOT APPROACH. ALERT THE AUTHORITIES.

 DANGEROUS FUGITIVE. SONG MINGI.

    The door to the bar swings open.

   The world spins around you as you look up from the drawing. And come face to face with it, brought to life.

    "Mingi..."

    "Are you okay, Doll?"

   You can't seem to find any words that describe the way your heart is breaking. Louis approaches you first, his own heart stopping as he sees what's held in your trembling hands. He tears it from you, glaring down like it's a hallucination.

    "Who are you?" Is all you can manage to whisper, backing away with a grip on your uncles sleeve as Mingi steps forward.

     "What is that?" He nods to the paper, although deep down he has an idea of what it is.

   Maria snaps out of her trance, joining your side, a gasp leaving her lips as she looks back and forth from the paper to Mingi.

     "You get out of here, you never show your face in this town again," Louis grips the man's collar and pulls him to his level, "You're lucky my girls are watching or I'd hold true to my promise."

     Mingi shoves him away and grabs the paper from Maria, his worst thoughts come true as he sees himself staring back at him.

     "Wh..." He trails of in a whisper, heart breaking into a million pieces as you look at him fearfully. Like you did the first time you met. He thought he'd never have to see that look again. "(Y/n), please, hear me out."

     Maria holds you to her chest as he approaches. "I knew I sensed evil in you, boy." She bares her teeth at him as she seethes, like a wild mother bear.

"Leave," your voice trembles, raw with all of the emotions that are flooding you. You lean further into your aunts arms as he reaches out for you. "You lied to me! I never want to see you again! I ought to turn you in!"

    "You have to believe me, I'm not like that anymore. Baby, listen! I only did what I had to to survive, you don't understand. I'm not like them!" He fights against Louis as he drags him to the door. "Please, I love you!" He's thrown off the porch, only getting a glimpse of you as you crumble to the floor before the door is slammed in his face.

༄

Mingi drapes his mare's reigns over a poll, trudging through the snow until he's at a familiar door.

He doesn't bother knocking. He barges in and stares down at the man at the desk.

"Mingi, long time no s-"

"I have a job for you." He slaps down a wad of cash, "more where this came from when you're done."

The man sighs, but takes the cash, thumbing through it. "And why don't you do it?"

Mingi ignores the question. "Louis and Maria Donelley. Shoot them, make it quick. (Y/n) (L/n). Tie her up on the tracks."

He hesitates for a moment. But in the end, "More where this came from, huh?"

༄

     It's been three days since Mingi has gone away. Rather, since he was forced away by his past and your reaction to it.

     You've slept for most of that time. Cried the rest. You barely eat. Barely talk. You hardly even move off your side of the once-shared bed.

    Maria, Louis, all of your friends tried to comfort you. Telling you that he was just a fling. That the one for you will come around and make all of the pain Mingi left disappear.

     They don't know that Mingi was the one.

     He made you so happy. Happier than you'd ever been. He made everything seem... right.

     "Hey, Dear," Louis knocks at the wall, slowly coming ascending into the room.

     "I don't want the soup, Uncle Lou..."

     "Auntie!" Ellis comes barreling past Louis and jumps onto the bed, hugging you tightly.

     "Ellis? Hey, Buddy!" You force a smile as you hug him back, sitting up with a groan and holding the child in your lap. "How you been?"

      Ellis goes on and on about what the new teacher from the city is teaching his class, a big smile on his face. Louis sees the smile pulling at your lips in the slightest, and he excuses himself silently.

     He, admittedly, is a very good distraction from your pain.

You spend quite a few hours playing with him, catching up on the things that are going on in town. He drops the ball onto the jacks and giggles loudly as it rolls away, under the bed. "I'll get it, set us up another round."

You bend down and feel around for it blinding, heart skipping a beat as you feel Mingis bag. You haven't found the courage to touch any of his things, even if to throw them away.

You move away from it and grip the ball, rolling it back to Ellis. "El, I'm feeling a bit tired, why don't you come back tomorrow."

"Aw... okay! I'll bring Violet and we can play outside!"

"See you then, Kiddo," you ruffle his hair as he passes you to leave.

It was a nice break from your sorrows while it lasted.

You crawl back into your half of the bed as the sun sets in the window above it, pulling Mingis pillow into your arms as you sob yourself to sleep once again.

Deep into the night, you feel the bed dip. You open your eyes with the littlest inkling of hope that Mingi has returned despite your harsh words his way.

But you're only met with a stranger.

You open your mouth to scream, but only get a small squeak out before you are met with a hit on the head.

༄

You awake as your body is tossed into the air, a loud groan leaving you as you collide with something hard. Through your blurry vision, you can see the moon high above you.

You look to the side, and you put two and two together that you're in a wooden cart as you see the stranger from above your bed riding on a horse that's got you attached to it. "Hey-" You croak out, getting his attention.

"Morning!" He yells, making you wince. You have a splitting headache. "Just in time for the show," he mumbles under his breath, pulling the horse to a stop.

You can hear him shuffling around in the snow, and you try to sit up before you realize you can't. Your entire body is tied in a thick rope.

The back of the cart opens up, and you try -you try so hard- to shimmy away as he reaches in and grabs your foot. But to no avail.

      He pulls you from the cart and lets you fall into the snow. It wets the back of your nightgown and hair, soaks your thin socks and makes you shiver. You don't think you've ever been this scared. Even during the shootout, Mingi was there to protect you.

      You watch with a fresh set of tears brewing in your eyes as you watch the man double knot some ropes onto the tracks. "Oh my God..."

      He ignores as you begin to beg for your life, telling him all sorts of things about you to try and make him sympathetic. "- and his name is Louis, he took me in when my parents died! Uncle Lou and Aunt Maria, please! She'd die of heartbreak!" He scoffs, knowing she's already dead. So is Uncle Lou.

    He followed Mingis request and made it quick.

       He pulls you by your binds to the tracks, the metal on the tracks is the coldest thing you've ever felt and it makes you yelp. You cry out in the night as he begins tying the ropes on the tracks to the ropes on your body.

    "Please, why are you doing this?!" Your voice shook with pure horror, tugging at the ropes that were wrapped around your entire body and tied to the tracks by the bandit. He crouched down at your feet and smirked, his simple answer making you cry all the harder.

     "Why not?"

   All of your pleas and prayers fall to deaf ears as the man turns away and to his cart, rummaging in his chest. The tracks begins to shake and you begin to except your fate. You turn your head to the side and watch the pebbles rumble, your sobs visible in puffs of air as you exhale into the harsh winter air.

    A loud thud and a groan makes you look back, and you see a tall figure on a familiar white horse.

    "Mingi!" He drops the crowbar he used to whack the man as he rode past.

    He looks back at you briefly- his face hidden by his droopy hat. But you can tell he's pissed. His jaw clenched and shoulders tense before a gunshot rings out and he ducks and rolls off of Mare, slapping her to make her run away as he draws his own gun.

    Between the rattling of the tracks and the thrumming of your heart, you can barely force yourself to watch as he approaches the man bravely, your eyes flicking from them to the horizon repeatedly. A sob of his name makes him pause for a split second before he comes back to his body.

    "Too close," Mingi scowls at the man, using his gun to smack his hand and make him drop his, kicking it away as he scrambles for it.

    "Aye, man, I did what yo-"

    "Too close."

    "Just give me my mon-"

       His gun smokes by his side in the next second as the man drops to the desert floor dead. He takes a moment to bask in the way the blood pools in the pure white snow before the steam whistle catches his attention.

      "Mingi, please!" He drops everything and runs to the tracks, crawling over your body and looking at your binds frantically. "Mingi, oh my God, please- I'm so sorry! Please untie me, hurry," you babble on in a panic as the train appears just over the horizon, sobs wracking you body under his as he tugs at the ropes.

     Your horror breaks his heart, but he knows it's necessary. He knows he has a knife strapped to his back, but he plays the panic card and 'forgets' as he forces a false worry onto his face. He won't let anything happen to his Doll, but you're too caught up in your fight or flight to remember that.

    "I got you, I got you," he murmurs as he pulls the ropes on one of your sides undone, taking his sweet time with the other as he watches the train grow ever closer- the conductor blaring the horn.

     Your free hand grasps at him, clawing at his leather jacket, eyes wide and soaked with tears as you stare down your death as it barrels towards you. Just a few feet away.

    Mingi yanks you up and falls to the ground besides the tracks with you on top of him, hands roughly holding you to his chest as his hat blows away with the wind that the train creates. You willingly slump into him, sobbing into his warm chest as the tracks rattle loudly besides you, drowning out your cries.

     He relishes in the way you cling to him well after the train passes, not daring move away from your savior as you cry your heart out and ramble on to him about how you're so sorry and how you never would have really turned him in and on and on until he silences you with a tender hug.

    He knows all of this. His Doll would never betray him. But it's best that he get a subconscious message through your thick, naive, skull early on.

   The message being: the attempt to leave him has failed miserably. Why even try to leave when he's so clearly your fate?

༄

Mingi locks the bar door behind him as he carries you into the building. He kicks off his boots. He knows you hate the mess.

    It was silent the entire way back to town.

And it remains that was as he carries you up the stairs and to bed. He doesn't even acknowledge you as he gets you some clean, dry clothes.

"Mingi..."

He sighs, shoulders dropping.

"I'm s-"

"I thought you hated me?"

"Min... I was just- just in shock! Why didn't you tell me you were... an outlaw?"

He kneels at the bed and slips your socks off, replacing them with a warm, thick pair.

The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

"Because I was afraid." He bites his lip as it trembles. That's the plain truth. He was afraid you'd leave if you found out all the things he'd done. But now that you know, he still doesn't plan on letting you leave. "Please forgive me, Doll."

He lowers his head into your lap and smirks as he feels your hand rest on his hair.

"Come back home, Mingi."

"Really?" He looks up with the most puppy like gaze you've ever seen.

You nod, wiping your tears away, "I don't care what the others have to say. We can leave this place if we have to, I just need to be with you, M-" His lips collide onto yours as he pounces on you, pushing you onto the bed and nipping at your lips like he's starved. And he is, because-

"I missed you so fucking much, Doll," he growls into your lips, melting into you as you wrap your arms around him. It feels like it's the first time in forever, and it is to him.

"I love you, Mingi," you whisper as you look up at him, chasing after him as he sits up on his knees.

     He lifts your ruined nightgown, looking down at you as if you're a work of art as he tosses it away. "I love you," he whispers back, cupping your breast in his warm, big hands. "I love you so much it hurts."

You lay back with a moan, arching into his touch. Your mind is so fried from this weeks events, all you want to do is disappear into him.

     And you let it be know. "Take your clothes off." You tug at his buckled belt with an utterance, licking your lips at the sight of his happy trail. "Show me how much you missed me. Show me how much you love me."

     Your sultry words have him undressing in a hurry,  slamming his pistol down on the nightstand he made and kissing you deeply as he removes his belt, heart beating rapidly as you cup his cheeks to bring him closer.

     You're the closest to heaven he's ever been. Kissing down his neck and stroking his back. He doesn't know how or why this infatuation grew into something wild and untamable. And frankly, he doesn't care.

       You are quickly working to undress his top half while he kicks his pants away, letting his larger gun clatter to the floor. You no longer care if he leaves them out. You just want him home.

      "I was so worried about you, Baby," he pants, "I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry," he places kiss after kiss after kiss on your face, rubbing your thighs as he slides between them. "I love you. I adore you. I want you. I'm yours. You're mine." Every statement is accompanied by a kiss.

      "I'm so sorry, Min," you look deep into his eyes as he rubs his member on your wetness, "you're my one and only. I don't care what you've done to get here. As long as I have you in my arms. As long as I'm in yours."

     He hugs you tightly, forehead against yours as he slips inside of you. "I will never leave you," he moans out, settling deep inside of you as you pant and whine.

    You've taken him quite a few times at this point, but never like this.

    He always takes his time sinking into you, reveling in the slow stretch.

    But not tonight. Not after what you've been through. He needs to feel you, and now.

     He needs to feel your emotional connection on a physical plane. And so do you. That's why you don't stop him or push him away as he lowers into you quickly.

     You ground yourself by wrapping your arms under his and gripping his shoulders, careful of his healing wound.

     His chest against yours, heart beats drumming together as you try to disappear into each others being.

    Affectionate touches are left all over the both of your bodies. Tender kisses and promises of love.

    "You're all I ever wanted," you whisper into his chest as he starts a languid pace. "I want to be yours, tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine, Doll, all mine." He speaks ever so softly, cradling your head to his chest. He can't believe how lucky he's gotten.

"Make me believe you, show me I'm yours."

And he does.

     God knows how or why Song Mingi has so much stamina, but no amount of time passed stops him from pounding into you, he stops when he thinks you've had enough.

     He's made you cum seven times through the night, and with the sun beginning to rise out the window, he's still at it.

     Its been hours, and his pace hasn't slowed one bit. If anything, your pants and whines stir him on and he almost hammers into you. The quick in and out rhythm makes him moan. Your heat encasing him as the cold winter air seeps in through the walls that makes him want to bury himself in your body and never leave.

    He knows he's big. He's so big and you're small compared to him. But he doesn't care when he's balls deep in your sore and swollen pussy. He makes you take it to the base and chuckles deeply when you try and crawl away.

    "Min- can't take it," you sob, but that doesn't stop him.

    He grips your hips roughly and pulls your clit flush to his pelvis, holding you there as you squeal out, banging your fists onto your shared bed.

     "Fuck you can't, your pussy was made for me to stretch out." His next thrust sends your hips into the mattress, finally able to rest your exhausted body as he plunges into you from behind.

      Each rough thrust wipes away every thought from your mind until it's all Mingi.

   Mingi is so deep.

   Mingi is so thick.

   Mingi fucks you so good.

   Mingi treats you so good.

   Mingi loves you.

   Mingi.

   Mingi.

      "Mingi!" You moan out loudly into the pillows as you seize up, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum all over him. Vision dark and blurry, drooling all over the place, barely conscious after your eighth orgasm around his massive girth.

     He's panting and growling into your ear, continuing to thrust. He's relentless. He's really out to break you.

      "Please," you slur, wracking your slush of a brain for a way to get him to cum. You love him, and you love fucking him. But he just won't stop until he cums. And he won't cum until you essentially force him. He's so hell bent on making you get there, he forgets about himself, like he's outside of his own body. And he's extra determined after almost losing you. Your usual tricks haven't worked. So you pull out the big guns. "Please, Min... put a baby in me." Oh, you know him all too well. He's made multiple comments about how good you are with children. How pretty you'd look with that pregnancy glow, your belly round with his baby.

    "F-fuck, Doll," it seems as if that is enough to satisfy his hunger, slamming his tip into your womb and filling you with his warm and sticky seed so much that it splashes back on him and makes a mess of his lower stomach.

Still buried deep inside of you, uncaring of the mess, he lays ontop of your back gently and wraps his arms around your shoulders, his head next to yours. You shaking breaths and trembling legs calmed by his warmth over your entire body.

     "Holy fucking shit," you whimper, making him chuckle quietly.

     He places a gently kiss to your shoulder, "I didn't go to hard, did I?"

    "You did... but I liked it."

    He smiles as he rests his head, hands rubbing up your arms and to your hands, intertwining yours fingers. "I love you." He states. Loud and proud. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share everything with you and I don't want to keep anything from you. I want you all to myself. Will you marry me?"

    The words almost get lost in translation on their way to your endorphin flooded mind, and your silence makes him nervous. That is until- he sees the giant smile spreading on your lips. "Yes."

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighs a breath of relief followed by a soft laugh.

    "But you'd better get me a ring," you joke, groaning out as he slowly pulls out of your abused core. There's a smirk on his lips that you can't quite place as he gently turns you on your back and helps you get comfortable.

     He reaches under the bed and grabs his bag. "You didn't-"

    "I did," he has his signature shit-eating-grin on his face as he takes it out. A dainty, pretty, thing. Much like he sees you.

      He cuddles into your side, fur blanket draped over your lower halves. Calloused and rough hands take yours. Gently and loving with you. Their past of violence is lost as he slides the ring onto your finger tenderly.

     "Mrs. Song."

༄

[pearlesscentt]

love in the little things : svt hip-hop unit

── alternatively: the times when actions whisper softly, but the love speaks volumes.

svt (hiphop unit) x reader, established relationship, fluff , 642 words

vocal unit | performance unit

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — there's a sense of calmness that SEUNGCHEOL feels when he drives around with you right by his side. whether it's the daily commute to work or a night out with your friends, he insists on being the one to take you there. "i find peace in it," he said one time when you asked him about it.

and sure, the experience of driving beside him is a joy in its own right, but what tugs at your heartstrings the most is his steadfast commitment to punctuality. you had mentioned to him once how being made to wait on your own makes you anxious; he understood this unease, that's why he never lets you experience that anxiety. it washes you with relief and comfort to see him patiently waiting for you when you get out the door.

for more of this, check out open road promises.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — like the pitter-patter of the raindrops, it became a pattern on countless occasions already. it was instinct for WONWOO that every time it rained; he would subtly shift the umbrella he was holding up for the both you, so that you would get more than enough shade to keep you dry.

whether it was a drizzle or a downpour, he would position the umbrella at an angle just to give you more shelter. every now and then, he would even steal glances at you to make sure you were comfortable, without a care for the rain-soaked shirt clinging to his arm. it was a gesture he never talked about and never seem to have to think twice about — his tiny habit that means so much to you.

in the midst of the rain, wonwoo never fails to wrap you up in the most beautiful kind of warmth.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — with his wholehearted belief that what's his is yours, MINGYU loves to give you the best bites of every food he eats. initially, you thought it was just a simple act of sharing, which was already sweet in itself. yet, during a cozy movie night at his place, the realization hit as you both were enjoying a bag of gummy bears. it dawned on you that he had been actively avoiding your favorite colors, making sure that you had them all to yourself.

since that moment, you grew more aware of it: the cheesiest slice of pizza, the fudgiest corner of a brownie, the juiciest chicken drumsticks, the scoop of ice cream with the largest chunk of cookie dough, and the portion of the corn dog with the perfect cheese-to-dough ratio, among many others. his smile that radiates joy and fulfillment every time he does it — a wordless testament to his love for you.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — you smiled as soon as you saw VERNON's name flash on your phone screen. though you never know what to expect, it was a familiar occurrence in your day-to-day — his penchant for sending you the most random texts in the most random times throughout the day.

"look what i just saw that reminded me of you!" one of them read, it was then followed by a picture of puddle in the shape of a heart. this has become a delightful routine that never ceases to make your heart jump every time you feel your phone vibrate, notifying you of a new message. but it doesn't stop with images of heart-shaped objects; he sends factoids ("did you know that honey never spoils?"), casual updates of what he's up to ("babe i spilled water on myself and now i look like i peed my pants"), little reminders for you ("don't forget to eat today okay?"), and your favorite of all, his tiny confessions of love ("i love you and i can't wait to see you later!").

the spontaneity of it is what you loved about it. the thought that during arbitrary moments in his day, his thoughts are filled with you.

svt masterlist | navigation ── reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated !

© 2023 PEARLESSCENTT. please do not steal my works.

[faeriekit]

Ghosts of Those We Once Knew

a phic phight fill for @silverwing013

Warnings for: implied child abuse, accidental death, dead parents

**💚**

“Oh yeah?! And what are you going to do about it?!” Aunt Alicia snapped into the phone. 

There was a sound on the other end of the line, but Danny couldn’t make it out all the way. There was another solution, but it was…risky; it would require going into his aunt’s bedroom— a well known, forbidden domain— to pick up the only other phone hooked up to the landline. 

…There was no other time to find out what Aunt Alicia was putting off. It had to be worth the risk. Danny crept up the worn carpeting of the stairs, hoping that his sneakiness would hold up to Alicia’s discerning eyes and ears. 

Her bedroom was dark. Carpeted. …Pink. 

Whatever. Danny took a deep breath, lifted the phone off the hook, and tried not to breathe too loudly into the mouthpiece.

“You have no right to keep Daniel in your dismal, miserable, isolated hovel,” someone shouted on the other end. Danny had never heard this voice before. He sounded like someone around Dad’s age, maybe? Maybe a little…smoother, despite the blistering anger coming through the line. “You live with no human contact for nine months out of the year. You speak to no one. Do you— is Daniel even enrolled in a school? Did you get any sort of educational provisions for him whatsoever?” 

“What, so he can get cocky and blow himself up in the garage like his parents?” Alicia snapped. Danny had to clap a hand to his mouth to hide his gasp of dismay. 

“You know full well that punishing your sister’s son by restricting his access to an education and basic human companionship is not a solution to your grief for your sister. You are out of your mind.”

Aunt Alicia’s voice got low. Aunt Alicia’s voice got mean. She sounded like how she looked when Danny had fumbled the water pail from the well or stepped two steps too close to the rhubarb patch out back. “Vladmir Masters, you listen here,” Aunt Alicia muttered. “That boy is everything left of my sister in the whole damn world. He is not going anywhere. Do you understand? Not for you to fill his head with her stupid husband’s supernatural hoo-ha, and not for you to snatch up and teach himself how to kill other people the way those two killed each other. Danny stays here. If you ring me up one more time, I’m going to do more than just mail dog crap to the front step of your stupid castle in Wisconsin.”

The phone cut off. It would be an innocuous end to a phone call, except Danny can hear the clatter of plastic cracking on plastic in the downstairs kitchen.

There was a moment of silence.

“Daniel Jackson Fenton, you get your butt in here right now!”

Danny jolted, heart pounding. He—he went downstairs.

Aunt’s Alicia’s lips were pursed, her eyes tight. “What did I tell you about missing all the sticks in the yard? It looks like a wreck!”

Danny felt his breath stick in his throat.

“Well?”

“Yes, Aunt Alicia,” Danny mumbled. He looked down and away. He wasn’t caught out eavesdropping, but…was this any better?

“If those sticks aren’t piled up beside the woodshed for kindling in half an hour, you can kiss your dinner goodbye.”

Danny hadn’t had dinner in three nights. He was very lucky he didn’t need to eat as much as living kids. “…Yes, Aunt Alicia.”

“So?”

…Danny went outside to collect sticks. It took until nightfall to get all the refuse from yesterday’s storm off the ground.

Aunt Alicia ate canned corn and carrots and butchered rabbit with hot sauce for dinner. Danny ate nothing.

Danny went to bed thinking about somewhere else he could go. Mom and Dad were dead—smithereens in the blast that had killed him and brought him back to life simultaneously. Jazz was in the hospital. He had no grandparents. He had no other aunts or uncles other than Aunt Alicia.

…Who was Vladmir Masters?

*

It took two days for Danny to decide to run away.

Or. Well. Fly.

He’d figured that if he wanted to find out who Vladmir Masters was, he’d need an internet connection. His cell had been on the Fenton Fone Plan™ and had been disconnected from the Fenton Family Patented Ghost-free Satellite™ for almost three months now. But, you know…what was a public library for, if not getting information?

The two-day waiting period was mostly just Danny getting his stuff together, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, finding anything worth stealing…

…There was a picture of Mom with her big hair at graduation, a black robe thrown over her Hazmat suit. Her hair had been so big. Lots of people were beside her, including Dad, and someone with a matching hair stripe. They looked happy.

It didn’t matter that it had been Aunt Alicia’s photo. The picture had gone into his backpack next to Bearbert Einstein and a filched pocket knife.

Mom was Aunt Alicia’s sister, but Madeline Fenton had been his mom.

…Was still his mom.

Would…would always be his mom.

Danny wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry. Still, the flying and everything was still new to him. It took almost ten minutes to get himself off the ground without floating off willy nilly.

It took another half an hour to remember how to go through walls.

By the time Danny fell (as in actually, literally, leaned up against the wall and then realized he’d not made contact the way he’d expected to) through the house wall, it was almost eight at night. Aunt Alicia was still listening to Prairie Home Companion downstairs on the radio.

Whatever. He was out of there. He was sure he looked crazy—his hair was white, which was almost impossible to hide—but all he had to do was get out of there fast enough that no one connected one teenage runaway with a backpack to Danny Fenton.

It was fine.

It was all going to be fine.

…And if there wasn’t someone who’d help him. Well. Being homeless didn’t sound…so bad…?

…Or maybe he’d just squat in the burnt out ruins of Fentonworks. That sounded fine too.

*

Morning broke. Danny ended up in a tiny town somewhere in Mississippi.

A nice guy at the coffee shop gave him a cup of water and told him where the local library was. A librarian plugged her login details for him on a public computer, and Danny was able to look up one “Vladmir Masters”…

…CEO and owner of DALVco, millionaire, and Green Bay Packers megafan.

Holy crap.

Like… There were hospital wings with his name on them. Charities operating out of his company. Every picture of the man was perfectly taken in perfect lighting with perfect suits and precise smirks and bright-white magazine article paper.

Danny went back up to the librarian. “Do you have any articles on…uh…Vlad Masters?”

The librarian smiled warmly. “Ah, school project?”

“Sure,” Danny lied, milk on his tongue.

Vlad Masters was a self-made millionaire. He lived in a castle in Wisconsin that used to be owned by a dairy empire kingpin. He went to—

Danny read the line again

—He went to the same college as Mom and Dad. The year looked right, too. They might have even graduated in the exact same year. If only Danny could still check Dad’s college ring in the bottom of their junk drawer.

Wisconsin. Vlad Masters lived in Wisconsin.

…Danny was really lucky he was never all that hungry anymore.

Danny got another cup of water at the coffee shop, washed his face in the bathroom, and got ready to fly another night.

He was no sextant, but he could probably figure out how to get to Wisconsin after a couple of hours of flying, and a little time to gauge the sky.

It would be easy.

…Danny’s white-topped, pale face stared back at him from the restroom mirror.

It had to be. It would have to be easy.

*

So, a cheese castle looked a lot like a regular castle.

Danny squinted up at the stonework. Nah, that looked like…a castle. That being said, it looked more specifically like the castle he was looking for—the one that had been featured in Vlad Masters’s house tour in Architecture Daily magazine two years ago.  

Same…roof bits. Same big door. Danny swallowed. Same…tower? Were there better words for these? There were definitely better words for all the tricky stone bits in the castle.

Whatever. Danny was praying that the man was actually home today, as opposed to flying across the country on some kind of business trip. Rich people did business trips, right?

Danny floated up to the front door. There was no doorbell.

…Danny bit his lip. Okay. So there was no doorbell. There was a very large, brass door knocker. It looked kind of like a big monster face, with a ring held in its teeth.

The knocker was just high enough off the ground that Danny had to float to get there. Lifting it was a struggle.

When it knocked, the whole door buzzed with sound.

Danny waited.

…He waited.

And…Danny waited.

No one came.

Danny picked at the skin of his lip. What if he just…went in?

Like. It was a big house. Maybe Vlad Masters just hadn’t heard him at all? Maybe he was just…in the basement or something…?

Danny paced midair. On one hand. He’d come all this way. He had to follow through. He had to see if there was…something. Anything. Anything at all—anything that could possibly connect Masters to his family.

Any connection that wasn’t Aunt Alicia would be worth breaking and entering.

On the other hand. Home invasion was and would remain illegal.

Danny grimaced.

He…stuck his head through the door. 

There was a hallway on the other side. A little end table. A guest book. 

…Okay. Danny slipped through the door. He was breaking and entering now— or at least…entering. 

Inside was dark. Gloomy. Comfortable, sure— lots of soft furnishings, curtains, couches, pillow, lounging things— but very…opaque in atmosphere. 

He was glowing, he noticed. That probably was pretty bad on the “trying not to get caught” scale. 

There was no one upstairs. Danny drifted through room after empty room and up into floor after empty floor. There was a kitchen, and the food therein were largely preserved items. There was nothing in the fridge. 

Danny’s stomach cramped. There was no one here. 

…Maybe he should look downstairs? 

The castle got colder the further down he went. The windows that at least allowed the minimal light that escaped through the tree cover in the castle vanished. The only light left was Danny. 

Danny floated down deeper. 

There were doors made of metal in a long, stone hallway. Each had different numbers on them. Danny followed the rows of doors.

There were wires on the floor. They were organized by color and bound by little ties, until they weren’t, and Danny eventually ran out of tangled webs of red and blue plastic to follow. 

They ended at a closed door. 

Danny hesitated. He poked his head through. 

On the other side was a ghost. 

Danny jerked back. He’d— he clapped his hand over his mouth. That was—! And sure, Danny was something like that now, but he’d never seen—!

He should leave. Danny should leave. 

Danny barely made it three doors down. 

Going somewhere? something asked him. Danny shivered. 

The ghost appeared on his left in ethereal white, black hair pulled behind him in some sort of half-halo. Unlike Danny, who was in something like half-hazmat, half-hoodie, the ghost wore a long, glowing labcoat, appropriate PPE beneath. 

Danny’s breath fogged up in his mouth. He flinched. “Sorr—” he tried. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be here.”

The ghost looked at him with bright red eyes. Danny floated a few steps back. Spying, are you?

Danny shook his head. “No!! No, I just— I was looking for— I wasn’t spying! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you li— died here! I’ll leave!” 

The ghost’s head tilted. For a second, Danny thought that he was going to throw a punch. And then—

You’re already here, the ghost pointed out, and opened a door. Beyond it was…something similar to a doctor’s office. An examination table with the paper on it. One of those blood pressure cuffs, attached to a printer for the readout. A sink. Sundry tongue depressors. You may as well consent to be helped. 

“...Helped with what?” Danny asked nervously, fingers flexing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

The ghost hummed— not in the way voices hummed, but in the way high voltage sang in distant powerlines. You are newly formed, aren’t you? Most can tell a ghost’s nature from its presence alone.

Danny looked away. “Um. You know. You might be the first ghost I’ve ever met.” 

The ghost’s feet almost touched the ground. It stared down at him. It was taller than he was, and when it stared, it made Danny want to run away. 

…Truly, the ghost asked(?), and it took Danny a second to realize it was a question. 

“Maybe I died a little recently…” Danny tried, trailing off into a mumble. Was there a right answer to this? 

…I see. That would make this check-up more urgent, then. Might I encourage you to come this way? 

Danny followed him into the room. 

It felt… It looked and felt exactly like any other doctor’s appointment, excepting that the doctor involved in the process had blue skin and fangs and a hairstyle that defied gravity. The ghost still wore gloves and didn’t poke him or prod him too hard, though, so that was a bonus.

Danny got his pulse taken. (None.) Danny got his lungs checked. (Not breathing.) Danny got his resonance? looked at? Whatever that was? It was a big scanny thing that looked like an X ray and took pictures of his chest. 

The readings were real pretty, whatever they were; the whole film print was taken up with splotches of white and clear blue. It kind of shimmered when Danny tilted his head. 

You’re quite powerful for a newly formed ghost, the ghost offered, overlooking papers Danny couldn’t quite see on his clipboard. It flipped through once. Twice. You’re clearly not attached to your place of death, so that’s not why… Are you aware of any compulsions to follow an Obsession yet…?

A ghostly obsession? Danny knew what that was— it was one of his parents’ theories on why ghosts persisted after death! Was it was true? 

“Um,” Danny said, unsure. He hadn’t…had he? “Not that I know of?”

The ghost paused. It clicked its pen. It marked something down on Danny’s chart. Interesting.

Ominous. 

May I quickly test something? the ghost asked, looking up at Danny. It would only take a moment. If it does not work, there will be no other side effects other than mild discomfort and an activated flight response. 

Danny shifted. The paper crackled underneath him. “...Does it hurt?” 

No.

The ghost added nothing more. 

Danny’s…head jerked up and down. It was fine. It would be fine. 

The ghost’s hand circled his wrist. Its touch burned like fire. 

And then light, like how Danny burned away one form for another—

—Danny was left on the table, no longer weightless, no longer breathless. He was flesh. He was human again.

Vlad Masters stared back at him. 

…Huh. 

Mr. Masters— Vlad?— licked dry lips, staring at Danny, whose wrist he still held. Danny…didn’t know if he could move. Danny didn’t know if he knew how to move. 

“...Daniel?” Mr. Masters’s voice cracked. His eyes moved up and down Danny’s body, from his raggedy hair to his dirt-stained clothes to his beat-up shoes. “Daniel Fenton?”

Danny winced. “It’s just Danny,” he offered hoarsely. His throat bobbed. “You…know me?” 

Mr. Masters moved his grip to Danny’s hand, apparently moved to tears. Without the red in his eyes, he just looked…human enough. “Daniel— Danny, how did you— Are you dead? What happened?” 

Danny felt the weight of everything push down on him again, as if it had ever let up on him since the portal incident. Mom and Dad’s funerals. Jazz in the emergency room. Being resuscitated by the EMTs. Getting shipped out to Aunt Alicia’s house without warning. 

“House blew up.”

That was succinct enough, right?

The man’s face turned devastated. “I heard— I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, Danny.”

…It was more concern than anyone had shown in a long time. His eyes were wet before he knew it. When he wiped his face with his sleeve, the dampness was enough to leave little streaks of mud on his face— and, ugh, he felt filthy. 

“It’s okay,” Danny lied, because it wasn’t. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes. “It’s…you know my parents?”

Mr. Masters took a deep, surprised breath. “Yes. We…weren’t in contact after we graduated from school together, but Jack always… He asked me by email to be your godfather, right before you were born. I said yes, but I have no idea if he ever filed the paperwork.” 

Oh. 

…Oh. 

There were clearly more secrets here. Mr. Masters was a ghost, and so was Danny. He lived in a giant castle that was clearly haunted, which was made obvious by the owner. He was Danny’s godfather, and Danny had never once met him. 

And he wasn’t Aunt Alicia. 

Danny sucked the spit off of his teeth with his tongue. “Can I stay here?” 

Mr. Masters made a wounded, desperate expression. “I would rather you did.” 

“Can you teach me how to be a ghost?”

The man persevered through what were clearly heavy feelings. “...If I must.” 

“Can I have dinner?” was Danny’s final question. “Like. On the regular?” 

There was a second where Mr. Masters’s eyes went red. The castle suddenly felt taut with anticipation. Fury crawled on Danny’s skin. He could feel the pressure digging in search of some way to burrow into his flesh.

And then it was gone. 

“Of course you can. You are a growing boy.”

Danny smiled shyly, barely showing his teeth. When he smiled for real in the mirror, he had fangs. It was better not to. “Cool.”

Mr. Masters nodded. And when Danny looked down at the floor, he changed his grip so that Danny could hold his hand and hop down like normal. 

“It will be alright,” Mr. Masters promised quietly. It seemed to be just as much for him as it was for Danny. “Or…I’ll take care of it. Whatever happens. You’re not alone, Danny.” 

Danny had been alone for almost half a year. It had felt like forever. “Thanks.” He sniffed. 

They walked upstairs from the basement laboratory together, in a way Mom and Dad never would again. 

[chongoblog]

A Moment: A Short Story

Simon had always heard about just how beautiful Zion Canyon was, especially from the end of the Angel’s Landing trail which lead to a breathtaking view over the canyon. Now that he was there, he knew in his heart that his 50 day hike was worth it. At least, he assumed that’s about how long it would have taken if time had moved a single second. The hardest part about stopping time for this long is that it was so easy to lose track of just how long it had been for him since time had moved. No clocks or watches to keep track. No day or night. It was just him wandering across the world within that one single moment.

But what a moment it was. He paused to drink in the view from the top of the trail, even if he had all the time in the world to do so. The sun was setting, bathing the wall of the canyon in a warm glow. The trees that peppered the canyon walls reached up to the orange sky, adding touches of life to the hard rock that made the gorgeous structure. In the bed of the canyon, life exploded with greater abundance, with thousands of trees and even a small town settled along the river. 

While the view provided Simon a sense of peace, he felt something underneath his foot. His instincts led him to move his foot to see what had disturbed his tranquility, finding a pebble. He tried to kick it off of the steep cliff face to watch it fall, only to see the pebble remain completely unmoved. Frozen in time, just like everything else. 

What good is stopping time if you can’t change anything?

The question lingered over his thoughts like a vengeful specter. This so-called “superpower” of his was a joke. When he had heard of people stopping time in movies and comics, it usually had more utility than this. The superheroes could use the time-stopping to move from one place to another instantaneously, or to perform long and arduous tasks in the blink of an eye, or even to play some kind of prank. Simon couldn’t do any of that. Everything was completely frozen in place, and time could not continue until Simon returned to where he had begun. 

At least he had chosen a good moment to pause time, with the gorgeous sunset rewarding his efforts. His mother had always told him how amazing the view was from atop Angel’s Landing, since she once hiked this trail when she was his age. 

He sat down atop the rock to take it all in. He had all the time in the world, after all.

—

Simon had been on plenty of nature hikes with his family when he was a child. While his father had passed away a few years ago, his mother continued to take him hiking in his stead. On almost every hike, she would say “Well the hike up is the tough part! Once you’ve seen the sights at the end, the hike back doesn’t even feel like a hike!” And while that was true for most hikes, walking all the way home from Utah to Boston still felt like a hike.

Just like the nature hikes, this trail known as “I-80” was full of wondrous sights, like the incredibly flat prairies that seemed to go on forever with nothing in sight except more highway and some power lines. However, in case he somehow got bored of stewing in his own thoughts, there were always gas stations. They weren’t exactly Niagara Falls in terms of majesty, but they were a break in the monotony, especially if he was lucky enough to catch them with the door open. 

Somewhere in Iowa, he came across a cheap looking fuel stop with its door open, and decided to go check it out. After all, he had time. 

The dim fluorescent lighting illuminated the small, cramped building. The fragrance of cheap corn dogs hit Simon’s nose like an unconvincing temptress, making him glad he didn’t have to eat to stay alive in frozen time. His eyes looked around to see what everyone was doing at this moment in time. The cashier was giving a customer change for a twenty, with Simon noticing that the cashier was accidentally giving the customer one too many dollar bills. The customer was paying for two bags of Funyuns, a bottle of grape soda, and a bottle of orange soda, all placed on the desk. Behind him was a young boy, who Simon couldn’t help but focus on. He was holding an ice cream cone, but the ice cream scoop was falling towards the floor.

Simon looked at the expression this kid wore on his face. It was a face of shock, surprise, pain, even grief that stared at the ice cream scoop as it fell victim to gravity. Obviously, this wasn’t going to ruin this kid’s life, but the look on the kid’s face at this precise moment told a different story. At this moment, the child felt more sorrow than could be put to words. 

When Simon was walking to Zion Canyon, he had stopped here as well. He hated this child. Yes, it was a child, but someone feeling this much pain over something as trivial as ice cream sent him into a fit of rage. 

Simon stared at the agony written on his face for a few minutes (or at least, a few minutes for him), and finally spoke for the first time that felt like months. “That sucks, what happened to your ice cream. I wish that I could use my power to stop this from happening to you. But I can’t.”

He crouched down, meeting the child at eye-level. “But it’s going to be okay. At this moment, you probably feel awful. But…time heals all wounds. Once I start time back up, your dad will probably offer to get you another one. Or at least, I hope he does. Until then, there’s nothing wrong with feelin’ bad over it. You just…can’t stay like that forever.”

After another few seconds, Simon sighed. “I gotta get back home. The sooner you get a new ice cream cone, the better.” He stood up, and left the store, continuing his long, long, long hike. 

—

Simon was finally home. The world around him had been frozen for what felt like months, and yet Simon still felt the knot in his stomach swell as he approached Tonio’s Pizzeria. It was always his favorite restaurant, since they always melted the cheese in their cheesy crusts just right. He and his mom had just finished their meal celebrating his acceptance letter into UMass Boston. The delightfully tacky exterior flooded its multi-colored neon lights all across the few available parking spaces in front of the building. Unfortunately, Simon and his mother couldn’t find any available parking in the front. After fighting the knot in his stomach, he walked behind the pizzeria to where they had ended up parking their car.

Unlike the front of the pizzeria, the parking lot out back was shrouded in darkness of nighttime. There were only a few cars in the parking lot, but next to one of the cars was a familiar sight that still managed to freeze Simon in place. 

There stood two people. A masked man with a gun, holding it towards his mother. In the air between the two of them was a single bullet, directed straight for his mother’s head.

Before he had embarked on his expedition out west, Simon had spent a long time in this parking lot. He lost count of how many times he had tried to do something. He had tried moving the bullet. He had tried moving his mother. He had tried picking up something to throw at the bullet. He had tried punching and kicking the masked man. He had even tried moving himself between the bullet and his mother and resuming time. But nothing had worked. Everything had been set in stone, with Simon meant to stand right next to his mother.

Simon took a few deep breaths, knowing what he had to do. If he didn’t, that kid would be crying over his ice cream forever, now wouldn’t he? Every step felt heavy as he made his way into the correct position. He could hardly bear to look at his mother’s face one last time. It was a face that he could never forget. One stricken with shock and fear, but with an unmistakable look of acceptance.

“You were right, mom. Zion Canyon was…incredible.”

And so, Simon resumed time once more. 

[braxlrose]

tons of hcs about dating/friendship tokio hotel - imagine your dating whoever you want to date :)

• georg goes to the gym a lot and gets all cocky when he notices you watching him doing push ups on the hotel floor.

• gustav licks your face like a dog when your mad at him to make you laugh.

• bill posts myspace pictures 24/7 and constantly takes pictures of you.

• bill takes you shopping all the time and loves buying you new clothes.

• tom does the same except he also gets you lingerie.

• tom makes you breakfast sandwiches in the morning and brings you breakfast in bed.

• georg loves doing your hair at night and in the morning.

• bill binge watches movie and TVs shows with you whenever he can and will eat all of the pop corn.

• gustav brought georg on your first date when you guys were 12 because he was scared to go alone on a date with a girl.

• tom used to throw mud at you as a kid bc he thought he was funny 😐.

• bill kisses your forehead every single night before you two go to bed even if you two had an argument.

• tom loves taking bathes with you and won't get out until his fingers are all pruney.

• gustav loves eating peanut butter and will sit on a counter just eating it out of the container with a spoon.

• georg kisses your shoulders when you're in a dress that shows them off. he really loves it if you have freckles on your shoulders too.

• tom takes bites out of tomatoes like they're apples and will chew really loudly to annoy you.

• tom gets flustered easily even though some people think he's just this cool, tough guy it's all an act.

• gustav does clay face masks with you every single night.

• bill likes to sleep naked next to you and run his fingers through your hair.

• bill paints your nails every day and everybody complains when you guys take out the nail polish remover because its so strong and smells so bad.

• georg loves bon fires so much and brings out marshmallows, chocolate, graham crackers and other stuff to roast over the fire.

• gustav washes your entire body for you in the shower so you don't have to because "this is what boyfriends are supposed to do".

• tom proposes to you every time he gets drunk.

• bill comes up behind you and scares you all the time because it'll always shriek because he's so tall and walks so quietly.

• gustav always holds your waist or your hand at parties so he doesn't lose you.

• gustav bakes you a cake on your birthday and decorates it himself.

• tom always takes you out to super fancy restaurants for dates, especially on holidays like Valentine's day.

• you, bill, tom, georg, and gustav have snow ball fights every winter and there's always someone complaining because the teams arent equal

• georg ties your shoe laces for you because it's "gentlemenly".

• georg kisses your "boo boos" whenever you get hurt. even if it's just a teeny tiny little scrape

• gustav learned most of his bad words from binge watching South Park

• bill bakes muffins for you. all different kinds, blueberry, lemon-poppyseed, plain, strawberry, etc.

• tom loves going kayaking with you.

• gustav loves being the big spoon when it comes to cuddling with you because he can hold you super close and tight. he especially loves doing it when it's super rainy out.

• tom loves it whenever you where his clothes to bed because they look so adorable and big on you.

• georg brings you out to arcade dates whenever you two want to do something more low maintenance

• gustav gives you big bear hugs.

• bill wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder in the morning when you cook him breakfast.

I'll do more + NSFW hcs, I just thought I should post something bc I haven't in a while

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @saumspam @5hyslv7 @memog1rl @80s-tingz @billybabeskaulitz @victryzvv9 @banshailey @nyxwritesshit

[sarathrwizard]

7 Day Camp Stay. Day: 2

day 2 is now here!

This day went better. Except the small worry in an unfamiliar place.

(Reminder, Donnie is me.)

Hope you enjoy day 2! under the cut!

7 Day Camp Stay

Day: 2

Donnie woke up in a panic. For a moment he thought his brothers had left him. He looked outside the tent and found them all getting ready for the day. Donnie sighed with a bit of relief. Guess it was just a dream. The wind was still going strong. When he sat up he was greeted with a tent fwapping his head. He crawled out of the tent and went over to the picnic table. He found some peanut butter and jelly and made himself a quick sandwich.

Now that Donnie had some energy. He decided to do some of the dishes that were left over from the other night. He filled a bucket with water and soap and started scrubbing away. Mikey came over and helped rins and dry the dishes. They sung together, singing musical numbers. Donnie tried his best to remember the lyrics so that Mikey could easily sing along. But he found it more difficult without the melody in the background.

Once he was done with the dishes, it was already lunch time. Turkey sandwiches, again. Did Mikey really not plan for any other lunch meals?

The day was rather slow. Nothing was really planned. No hike, no fishing, no playing around with a ball, nothing. Everyone seamed to be doing their own thing. Donnie hid back in his tent and dug out a book to read. It was called 'The Wingfeather Saga'. He didn't get very far though. He got about one or two chapters in till he was too annoyed by the constant wind nocking the tent over. He laid down and his head hit something rather hard compared to a pillow. He turned to find out what it was.

It was a sketch book and a pen with a purple ribbon around it. A gift? But it wasn't his birthday, or anywhere near it! He looked over and saw that there was another present with a blue ribbon on Leo's pillow. Donnie untide the purple ribbon. When he opened the sketchbook a note fell out.

'To Donnie. I got you guys some sketch books and pens! I was thinking you could use them to journal about your camping week! (Or anything else.) Love, Mikey.'

Donnie took a look at the front cover and it had a pink flamingo on it with a sloth riding on top. It made him chuckle. He spent some time fiddling around with the pen and sketch book for a while.

Soon, dinner was being made. Donnie ran off to the bathroom again. When he came back out from the restrooms, it was already getting dark. The trees shook in the breeze, making a flickering sound in waves. The wild dogs started barking again. He felt like it would be silly to run back to the camp. He knew those dogs where miles away! But he didn't want to walk either. That took so long! Man if only he had a scooter or something, that would work!

But soon enough, he came around the bend as the campsite came into view. It looked like Mikey got the fire burning good! Donnie was always surprised how easy it was for Mikey to start a fire. He heard Mikey singing something and clapping his hands to the beat.

"Go tell it on the mountain! Over the hills and everywhere! Go tell it on the mountain, that Jesus Christ is born!"

"I never thought of that one being a campfire song."

Donnie said as he approached the triplet.

"It's got a good rithem to it! I don't see why not!"

Mikey cheerfully smiled. He leaned over and stirred the chicken in the large pot. He then added some corn and beans. Pouring in some broth instantly made it a soup! They each sat around the fire and ate a bowl of it. All except Leo.

"Leo, why aren't you eating?"

"I'm not hunger yet, that's all!"

Leo got up from his chair.

"I think I'll take a quick shower at the shower house!"

Leo said as he grabbed his bag of clothes. Donnie watched as Leo started his very short hike of 2 blocks down the road. Which felt so much longer to Donnie when the sun had set. After they were done with their food, they set the dishes aside. Everyone else was getting ready for bed. Donnie threw a few sticks into the fire to keep the food warm.

Time had passed from 9:00 to 10:15. Leo still had not returned. Donnie couldn't help but worry a bit. He had heard the wild dogs barking very loudly about an hour ago. Donnie checked the soup to find all the water had boiled out. He sat back down and threw a few more sticks on the fire. He tapped his foot, waiting for Leo to come back.

Suddenly, a rustling sound was heard coming down the turn. Donnie assumed it was Leo, but part of him thought otherwise. He tensed up slightly, waiting to see what would come around the bend. And to his assumption, it was Leo. Coming down the road with a towel around his neck. Donnie let his shoulders loosen. Leo had on a pair of black shorts and a blue long sleeve shirt with the brightest yellow crocks you'v ever seen! Donnie wasn't sure about Leo's fashion sense, but he let it slide.

"Hey, Tello! What are you still doing up?"

"Waiting for you."

"... You didn't have to. You could have gone to bed already."

"I was keeping your food warm."

Donnie lifted the lid to show the evaporated soup. Leo cringed a little. What once was soup, was now as dry as a desert in comparison. Donnie started scooping it out into a bowl but he didn't hand it to Leo that way. He walked over to the picnic table and added a little water to it.

"Here, it has become soup again."

Donnie said as he held it out towards Leo.

Leo took the bowl and peaked inside. That looked better, more like soup with liquid and all that jaz.

"Thanks for keeping it warm."

Leo smiled. Donnie nodded in return. Leo took a few sips of the soup, then drew his eyes onto Donnie.

"Is your stomach feeling better from yesterday?"

"...How did you know about that?"

"My stomach wasn't feeling so great either. I was also sure it wasn't my stomach I was feeling."

Donnie blinked a couple times. "Twin-stinct" is what Leo called it. It was a ridiculous idea, that they could feel each other's pain or whatever. But if that wasn't true, then how did Leo know that he felt sick the other night? Donnie just sighed and drew his attention onto the fire.

"Yeah, it's better now."

"Good."

Leo finished his soup and ran off into the tent. Donnie had gone to the bathrooms one more time to brush his teeth. When he came back, Leo was already asleep. Donnie narrowed his eyes. Leo had his legs flopped all over Donnie's side of the tent. He picked Leo's legs up and shoved them over. Leo mumbled something that sounded like, "dfelbubelbludfedmbedfold-" Actually, never mind, It sounded like nothing. Donnie got into his sleeping bag and zipped it up over his head.

'5 more nights to go.'

Donnie thought to himself. He put his phone on silent and went to sleep.

________

Yay! That was day 2! It was a good day by my standers.

I hope you enjoyed it!

Lord bless you! ❤️

Last x Next

[saphirreesuccudus]

Sorry! Could you do some rz Michael hcs? Also any illnesses or quirks he might have. I love the way you write him. Male reader please.-⭐

𝑅𝒵! 𝑀𝒾𝒸𝒽𝒶𝑒𝓁 𝑀𝓎𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒳 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

Quirks

Due to his child trauma, once he can trust you enough, he’d start picking up some child like hobbies. Coloring in coloring books, playing with different toys, and pretty much anything color. It reminds him of a time before Ronnie came into his life and fucked up everything.

He love’s microwave meals, sorta linked to the last one. Since his mother was always working and his father was either busy, inactive, or just didn’t care, he quickly learned how to use the microwave and eat microwave meals. He can be happy with a corn dog, mac and cheese, or a hot pocket. He’s not gonna be ungrateful over a full meal, especially a home cooked one, but if you’re not up to cooking, just a bowl of Mac and cheese will keep him happy.

He has a comfort color, so pretty much everything he owns is black. He doesn’t care how useless it is, he won’t use it. If it’s paintable, he might consider it though. Just be careful what you buy him.

Relationship

He likes to see himself as the big strong leader of your relationship, but he doesn’t mind being able to rest his head on your lap or get babied every so often.

He likes it when you wear his clothes, and he gets to wear yours. Especially since your clothes always carry the scent of cologne you wear everyday. Every so often he’ll lift up your shirt, and take a sniff of the woody, spicy, cologne.

Whenever he goes out, he makes sure theirs a knife in your nightstand. He doesn’t care about your height, weight, workout routine, he doesn’t want you getting hurt. What if loomis or someone from the hospital came knocking asking where Michael was?