#Water proof blinds

[westcoastblindswablog]

Learn how to determine if outdoor blinds are truly waterproof and make the most of your outdoor space! Don't let the weather dampen your plans!

[belajaripelajar]

5:109

۞ يَوْمَ يَجْمَعُ ٱللَّهُ ٱلرُّسُلَ فَيَقُولُ مَاذَآ أُجِبْتُمْ ۖ قَالُوا۟ لَا عِلْمَ لَنَآ ۖ إِنَّكَ أَنتَ عَلَّـٰمُ ٱلْغُيُوبِ ١٠٩

˹Consider˺ the Day Allah will gather the messengers and say, “What response did you receive?” They will reply, “We have no knowledge ˹compared to You˺! You ˹alone˺ are indeed the Knower of all unseen.”

Yawma yajmaAAu Allahu arrusulafayaqoolu matha ojibtum qaloo la AAilma lanainnaka anta AAallamu alghuyoob

5:110

إِذْ قَالَ ٱللَّهُ يَـٰعِيسَى ٱبْنَ مَرْيَمَ ٱذْكُرْ نِعْمَتِى عَلَيْكَ وَعَلَىٰ وَٰلِدَتِكَ إِذْ أَيَّدتُّكَ بِرُوحِ ٱلْقُدُسِ تُكَلِّمُ ٱلنَّاسَ فِى ٱلْمَهْدِ وَكَهْلًۭا ۖ وَإِذْ عَلَّمْتُكَ ٱلْكِتَـٰبَ وَٱلْحِكْمَةَ وَٱلتَّوْرَىٰةَ وَٱلْإِنجِيلَ ۖ وَإِذْ تَخْلُقُ مِنَ ٱلطِّينِ كَهَيْـَٔةِ ٱلطَّيْرِ بِإِذْنِى فَتَنفُخُ فِيهَا فَتَكُونُ طَيْرًۢا بِإِذْنِى ۖ وَتُبْرِئُ ٱلْأَكْمَهَ وَٱلْأَبْرَصَ بِإِذْنِى ۖ وَإِذْ تُخْرِجُ ٱلْمَوْتَىٰ بِإِذْنِى ۖ وَإِذْ كَفَفْتُ بَنِىٓ إِسْرَٰٓءِيلَ عَنكَ إِذْ جِئْتَهُم بِٱلْبَيِّنَـٰتِ فَقَالَ ٱلَّذِينَ كَفَرُوا۟ مِنْهُمْ إِنْ هَـٰذَآ إِلَّا سِحْرٌۭ مُّبِينٌۭ ١١٠

And ˹on Judgment Day˺ Allah will say, “O Jesus, son of Mary! Remember My favour upon you and your mother: how I supported you with the holy spirit[1] so you spoke to people in ˹your˺ infancy and adulthood. How I taught you writing, wisdom, the Torah, and the Gospel. How you moulded a bird from clay—by My Will—and breathed into it and it became a ˹real˺ bird—by My Will. How you healed the blind and the lepers—by My Will. How you brought the dead to life—by My Will. How I prevented the Children of Israel from harming you when you came to them with clear proofs and the disbelievers among them said, “This is nothing but pure magic.”

[1] i.e., the angel Gabriel.

Ith qala Allahu yaAAeesa ibna maryama othkur niAAmatee AAalaykawaAAala walidatika ith ayyadtuka biroohialqudusi tukallimu annasa fee almahdi wakahlanwa-ith AAallamtuka alkitaba walhikmatawattawrata wal-injeela wa-ithtakhluqu mina atteeni kahay-ati attayribi-ithnee fatanfukhu feeha fatakoonu tayranbi-ithnee watubri-o al-akmaha wal-abrasabi-ithnee wa-ith tukhriju almawta bi-ithneewa-ith kafaftu banee isra-eela AAanka ithji/tahum bilbayyinati faqala allatheenakafaroo minhum in hatha illa sihrun mubeen

5:111

وَإِذْ أَوْحَيْتُ إِلَى ٱلْحَوَارِيِّـۧنَ أَنْ ءَامِنُوا۟ بِى وَبِرَسُولِى قَالُوٓا۟ ءَامَنَّا وَٱشْهَدْ بِأَنَّنَا مُسْلِمُونَ ١١١

And how I inspired the disciples, “Believe in Me and My messenger!” They declared, “We believe and bear witness that we fully submit ˹to Allah˺.”[1] 

[1] lit., Muslims.

Wa-ith awhaytu ila alhawariyyeenaan aminoo bee wabirasoolee qaloo amannawashhad bi-annana muslimoon

5:112

إِذْ قَالَ ٱلْحَوَارِيُّونَ يَـٰعِيسَى ٱبْنَ مَرْيَمَ هَلْ يَسْتَطِيعُ رَبُّكَ أَن يُنَزِّلَ عَلَيْنَا مَآئِدَةًۭ مِّنَ ٱلسَّمَآءِ ۖ قَالَ ٱتَّقُوا۟ ٱللَّهَ إِن كُنتُم مُّؤْمِنِينَ ١١٢

˹Remember˺ when the disciples asked, “O Jesus, son of Mary! Would your Lord be willing to send down to us a table spread with food from heaven?” Jesus answered, “Fear Allah if you are ˹truly˺ believers.”

Ith qala alhawariyyoonaya AAeesa ibna maryama hal yastateeAAurabbuka an yunazzila AAalayna ma-idatan mina assama-iqala ittaqoo Allaha in kuntum mu/mineen

5:113

قَالُوا۟ نُرِيدُ أَن نَّأْكُلَ مِنْهَا وَتَطْمَئِنَّ قُلُوبُنَا وَنَعْلَمَ أَن قَدْ صَدَقْتَنَا وَنَكُونَ عَلَيْهَا مِنَ ٱلشَّـٰهِدِينَ ١١٣

They said, “We ˹only˺ wish to eat from it to reassure our hearts, to verify you are indeed truthful to us, and to become its witnesses.”

Qaloo nureedu an na/kula minhawatatma-inna quloobuna wanaAAlama an qad sadaqtanawanakoona AAalayha mina ashshahideen

5:114

قَالَ عِيسَى ٱبْنُ مَرْيَمَ ٱللَّهُمَّ رَبَّنَآ أَنزِلْ عَلَيْنَا مَآئِدَةًۭ مِّنَ ٱلسَّمَآءِ تَكُونُ لَنَا عِيدًۭا لِّأَوَّلِنَا وَءَاخِرِنَا وَءَايَةًۭ مِّنكَ ۖ وَٱرْزُقْنَا وَأَنتَ خَيْرُ ٱلرَّٰزِقِينَ ١١٤

Jesus, son of Mary, prayed, “O Allah, our Lord! Send us from heaven a table spread with food as a feast for us—the first and last of us—and as a sign from You. Provide for us! You are indeed the Best Provider.”

Qala AAeesa ibnu maryama allahummarabbana anzil AAalayna ma-idatan mina assama-itakoonu lana AAeedan li-awwalina waakhirinawaayatan minka warzuqna waanta khayru arraziqeen

5:115

قَالَ ٱللَّهُ إِنِّى مُنَزِّلُهَا عَلَيْكُمْ ۖ فَمَن يَكْفُرْ بَعْدُ مِنكُمْ فَإِنِّىٓ أُعَذِّبُهُۥ عَذَابًۭا لَّآ أُعَذِّبُهُۥٓ أَحَدًۭا مِّنَ ٱلْعَـٰلَمِينَ ١١٥

Allah answered, “I am sending it down to you. But whoever among you denies afterwards will be subjected to a torment I have never inflicted on anyone of My creation.”

Qala Allahu innee munazziluhaAAalaykum faman yakfur baAAdu minkum fa-innee oAAaththibuhuAAathaban la oAAaththibuhu ahadanmina alAAalameen

5:116

وَإِذْ قَالَ ٱللَّهُ يَـٰعِيسَى ٱبْنَ مَرْيَمَ ءَأَنتَ قُلْتَ لِلنَّاسِ ٱتَّخِذُونِى وَأُمِّىَ إِلَـٰهَيْنِ مِن دُونِ ٱللَّهِ ۖ قَالَ سُبْحَـٰنَكَ مَا يَكُونُ لِىٓ أَنْ أَقُولَ مَا لَيْسَ لِى بِحَقٍّ ۚ إِن كُنتُ قُلْتُهُۥ فَقَدْ عَلِمْتَهُۥ ۚ تَعْلَمُ مَا فِى نَفْسِى وَلَآ أَعْلَمُ مَا فِى نَفْسِكَ ۚ إِنَّكَ أَنتَ عَلَّـٰمُ ٱلْغُيُوبِ ١١٦

And ˹on Judgment Day˺ Allah will say, “O Jesus, son of Mary! Did you ever ask the people to worship you and your mother as gods besides Allah?” He will answer, “Glory be to You! How could I ever say what I had no right to say? If I had said such a thing, you would have certainly known it. You know what is ˹hidden˺ within me, but I do not know what is within You. Indeed, You ˹alone˺ are the Knower of all unseen.

Wa-ith qala Allahu yaAAeesa ibna maryama aanta qulta linnasiittakhithoonee waommiya ilahayni min dooni Allahiqala subhanaka ma yakoonu lee an aqoola malaysa lee bihaqqin in kuntu qultuhu faqad AAalimtahutaAAlamu ma fee nafsee wala aAAlamu ma feenafsika innaka anta AAallamu alghuyoob

5:117

مَا قُلْتُ لَهُمْ إِلَّا مَآ أَمَرْتَنِى بِهِۦٓ أَنِ ٱعْبُدُوا۟ ٱللَّهَ رَبِّى وَرَبَّكُمْ ۚ وَكُنتُ عَلَيْهِمْ شَهِيدًۭا مَّا دُمْتُ فِيهِمْ ۖ فَلَمَّا تَوَفَّيْتَنِى كُنتَ أَنتَ ٱلرَّقِيبَ عَلَيْهِمْ ۚ وَأَنتَ عَلَىٰ كُلِّ شَىْءٍۢ شَهِيدٌ ١١٧

I never told them anything except what You ordered me to say: “Worship Allah—my Lord and your Lord!” And I was witness over them as long as I remained among them. But when You took me,[1] You were the Witness over them—and You are a Witness over all things.

[1] This refers to the ascension of Jesus Christ. See footnote for 3:54.

Ma qultu lahum illa maamartanee bihi ani oAAbudoo Allaha rabbee warabbakumwakuntu AAalayhim shaheedan ma dumtu feehim falammatawaffaytanee kunta anta arraqeeba AAalayhim waanta AAalakulli shay-in shaheed

5:118

إِن تُعَذِّبْهُمْ فَإِنَّهُمْ عِبَادُكَ ۖ وَإِن تَغْفِرْ لَهُمْ فَإِنَّكَ أَنتَ ٱلْعَزِي��ُ ٱلْحَكِيمُ ١١٨

If You punish them, they belong to You after all.[1] But if You forgive them, You are surely the Almighty, All-Wise.”

[1] i.e., as Your creation, they cannot escape the punishment.

In tuAAaththibhum fa-innahum AAibadukawa-in taghfir lahum fa-innaka anta alAAazeezu alhakeem

5:119

قَالَ ٱللَّهُ هَـٰذَا يَوْمُ يَنفَعُ ٱلصَّـٰدِقِينَ صِدْقُهُمْ ۚ لَهُمْ جَنَّـٰتٌۭ تَجْرِى مِن تَحْتِهَا ٱلْأَنْهَـٰرُ خَـٰلِدِينَ فِيهَآ أَبَدًۭا ۚ رَّضِىَ ٱللَّهُ عَنْهُمْ وَرَضُوا۟ عَنْهُ ۚ ذَٰلِكَ ٱلْفَوْزُ ٱلْعَظِيمُ ١١٩

Allah will declare, “This is the Day when ˹only˺ the faithful will benefit from their faithfulness. Theirs are Gardens under which rivers flow, to stay there for ever and ever. Allah is pleased with them and they are pleased with Him. That is the ultimate triumph.”

Qala Allahu hathayawmu yanfaAAu assadiqeena sidquhum lahumjannatun tajree min tahtiha al-anharukhalideena feeha abadan radiya AllahuAAanhum waradoo AAanhu thalika alfawzu alAAatheem

5:120

لِلَّهِ مُلْكُ ٱلسَّمَـٰوَٰتِ وَٱلْأَرْضِ وَمَا فِيهِنَّ ۚ وَهُوَ عَلَىٰ كُلِّ شَىْءٍۢ قَدِيرٌۢ ١٢٠

To Allah ˹alone˺ belongs the kingdom of the heavens and the earth and everything within. And He is Most Capable of everything.

Lillahi mulku assamawatiwal-ardi wama feehinna wahuwa AAalakulli shay-in qadeer

[e3khatena]

My student loans, accrued over six years at a really expensive university in a field that bled 20,000 jobs in 12 months, and all put towards a degree I never got as a result of personal trauma and a global pandemic but were never due on account of my monthly income and the SAVE act, were just put back into motion and I will have to start paying on those soon.

I am so pissed off at 17 year-old me for going with a gut-reaction major/school rn, I coulda gone to a community college and gotten an identical BFA for the price of like a year and a half.

[t00thpasteface]

god i love the blue catfish so much. kind of a terrifying superpredator honestly. they like living in muddy water so their eyesight is dogshit, but they've got these huge barbels around their face to feel around, and their whole body is covered in almost two hundred thousand tastebuds to figure out exactly where their prey is, and they've got a special adipose fin to be extra tuned-in to water currents/pressure, and they have super keen senses of hearing at really low AND high frequencies, and they ALSO have a deeply forked tail to decrease drag so they can just cruise around and gulp down literally whatever they want, including other catfish, even in like zero-visibility water where every other animal is basically blind. and they get so fucking stupid huge with this technique that nothing can grab them because they're as big as a person. and if an eagle or something does grab one before it's gotten big enough to be eagle-proof, the catfish has fucking POISON KNIVES on its fins to not only stab things but also envenomate them in the process

you may not like it, but THIS is what peak performance looks like

[bi-writes]

ok simon and his mail order bride live rent-free in my head now and, like, what i wanna know is what their anniversaries look like? not just their one year anniversary, but also their fifth or tenth? how does it change as they settle into that deep comfortability that comes with being with someone a long time? -391780

this piece i still consider canon mail-order bride, but i see it almost as an extra than a continuation of the current story since it is very much in the future of that timeline. <3

mail-order bride

it's difficult to see the potential of something so mangled. sometimes things are so worn out and so used that they don't reflect what their purpose was. instead of function, they see flaw. instead of value, they see waste.

sometimes you wonder if that's what they saw in you. sometimes you wonder if that's why you were given to him.

that's what they made him. simon was a tortured dog they let loose. they saw value, but only what was left, and perhaps they thought something like you might help them squeeze just that little bit more out of him. one more year. one more op.

the sunlight wakes you up. you forgot to pull the blinds, but when you see simon sleeping peacefully next to you, it's worth it to be up so early. you know as soon as you move, he will wake, so you keep still for just a few more minutes.

today marks ten. he doesn't look much older. he seems to have stopped aging ever since you asked him to put in his papers.

like always, as soon as you sit up, simon blinks awake. he's bleary, but conscious, and when your eyes meet, you smile at him. he lifts his big hand and rubs your back gently. you don't speak any words so early in the morning, but you don't have to. there isn't much to say when the love of your life loves you, and you love them back.

you push the blankets off, giggling when you reveal the black and orange balls of fur that blink up at you. they almost seem irritated that you interrupted their sleep, snuggled in the heat that simon radiated. they'll just have to deal with it.

you drag your hand down simon's leg wordlessly. you hear his deep breaths from behind, and you reach into your bedside table to press a little balm into your hand before spreading the ointment across his knee and under it. you work it into the muscles nice and slow; any faster, and simon will hitch his breath in pain, and you'll have to start over.

you kiss his knee before laying back down, settling into his side, and you lift up your left hand, wiggling your fingers knowingly at him before looking up towards his face. he smiles down at you sleepily, raising his hand to cup your fingers.

"still love me?" you ask softly, and simon pretends to think about.

"mmm..." he rumbles. "still love ya."

"but do you still like me?"

"more everyday."

the first few years were spent trying to play catch-up. fancy dinners, expensive gifts, handwritten letters that could've been novels to try and stuff the love you have for each other all in one night. they were all wonderful; you think about those nights all the time, and you cherish the gifts he's given you like they are a part of you, but today feels different.

today might not be just another day, but it's just as special as yesterday. and the day before that. and the day before that.

when it's time to really wake up, you let simon guide you. he walks easy, barely a limp, and he sits you down at your vanity to help you do your hair as you add your serums and moisturizers. he's good with that brush, running it through gently, parting your hair the way you like so he can tie it up. he'd braid your hair if you asked him to (he said it wasn't unlike all the knots he knows how to tie--and he meant it, no one dutch braids like him), but you know your show came out last night, and you want to watch them with the scones you have proofing in the fridge.

he makes the coffee and tea while you set the scones in the oven. you fill the cat's bowls while he cleans out the water fountain. it's wordless, the morning routine, but you like the times when you brush by him. when your arm runs against his. when your hands bump going for the same cabinet. when he leans down as he passes you, kissing along your jaw before he keeps walking.

bliss. fucking bliss.

he's waiting for you in the living room once you pull the scones out of the oven. your coffee sits on the table on its coaster, in your favorite mug, and he's under your blanket as he flips through the tv. he already knows what you'll want to watch, and you bite back your smile when you notice him typing it into the search bar because he didn't see it when he scrolled past (you keep telling him to wear his glasses, but he'll never listen).

you take a seat next to him, thumbing at his cheek, and he takes a scone off the plate before biting into it. he smiles when he tastes chocolate, looking at you knowingly, and you reach for his hand as you settle against his chest.

you used to be mangled, too. a mess. pretty on the outside, dying on the inside. all fried wires, a traumatized animal, learned behavior of relieve and appease that kept you out of trouble and out of sight.

you have never seen simon this way. and simon has never seen you this way. no hopeless potential. no wasted space. no diminishing value.

i matter because you matter. you matter because i matter.

hidden, not broken. disguised, not incomplete. you did not have jagged edges, only armor that you tried to put up to protect yourself.

you tip your head back to look up at him, and when he cups your jaw to stare back at you, you're relieved by what you see in his eyes.

ten years. it will be nothing like forever. it will be nothing like your next life, nor like the life after that. it's comforting to know what home looks like. maybe you will recognize it the way you recognized it in this life.

no, that can't be it.

you recognized it because it had already happened. in some other time, in some other place, you were sitting where you sit now, looking at simon the way you look at him now.

you knew who he was before you even met him, and you will know who he is when you meet him again.

[haihoneys]

Dressing Room Shenanigans

Summary: The one where Mingi is just a little obsessed with Ateez’s new makeup artist.

Word Count: 3,963

Pairing: Song Mingi x Fem!Reader 

A/N: hiiiiiiiii :) I haven’t written anything in YEARS but I worked up this incredibly self-indulgent Mingi fic the other day… I kinda want to do a bit of a series with makeup-artist!reader x Mingi… 

Warnings: not proof read. poor grammar in all kinds of ways. smuttttttt - fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT KIDS), penetrative sex, he cums inside reader, slightly dom!mingi, reader has freckles, i probably missed something so just let me know!

Series Masterlist | Full Ateez Masterlist

————

Mingi felt like he could peel his skin off. He’d been on edge since he first opened his eyes that morning, hard and aching for a body he’d never felt in his waking moments. He took care of that problem in the shower, steam and his unrestrained moans filling the room as he came in his own hand. 

When he finally caught his breath and finished his actual shower, he turned the water off and wrapped the fluffy white hotel towel around his waist. He swiped his phone off the nightstand and his heart dropped to his stomach when he saw a text from her flash across his screen when the device woke up.

Good morning, sunshine!! That new product I special ordered came in this morning. Would you mind meeting with me around noon for a makeup test? xx

Mingi groaned and threw himself face-first onto the bed. He didn’t have it in him to be around her today. He really didn’t. Especially not after having yet another dream (and a shower jerk off session) where she featured as his own personal pornstar. 

He took several deep breaths, willing himself to calm the hell down as he reached out and patted around the mattress in a blind search for his phone. 

Sure thing :)

————

And god damn it, she just had to go and look a little extra pretty today: short plaid skirt and sheer black tights underneath, and her hair was tied up in this messy knot thing, and he could still see her freckles through her makeup…

When she noticed him standing in the doorway, she gave him this blinding smile, and for a split second Mingi felt the tension in his shoulders dissipate. But it was back again when she rushed over, smiling up at him like he hung the moon and stars as she took his hand and tugged him over to her makeshift makeup station.  

So now here he sat, grip on the chair's armrests so tight his knuckles were turning white. A placid smile plastered onto his face and nodding along as she told him about her morning doing similar test sessions with Hongjoong and Yeosang. He was willing himself not to get hard, to not think about the dream he had the night before and how she’d been on her knees for him…

Mingi bit down into the fleshy insides of his cheeks, willing the sharp sting of pain to ground him in reality. He could not think about that right now. But she was making it so fucking difficult. 

Her skirt was just so fucking short. At one point, she leaned over the vanity, rooting around for god knows what in all the shit she had spread out in front of him, and that fucking skirt rode up the backs of her thighs… the bottom of her asscheeks peeking out at him and he almost groaned at the sight.

He wasn’t strong enough for this. He thought he might just die right here. Y/N and her short little skirt and cute freckles were going to fucking kill him.

But no, that wasn’t what did him in. 

She was struggling to open a jar, the lid screwed on too tightly, and Mingi had just opened his mouth to offer to open it for her when the plastic finally gave and the lid came free. As did a majority of the powder. Right into his lap. 

Y/N gasped, eyes going so wide it would have been comical at any other time. She discarded the packaging and kneeled down to start scooping the powder into a cupped palm, profusely apologizing as she did so. 

“Oh god, Minnie,” she said, her voice small and embarrassed, and he had to look away from her crouched between his legs before he had a real problem on his hands. “I’m so sorry. Please tell me you have a change of clothes with you… I don’t think this will stain, but it won’t come off with the dry tissues I have in my kit.”

She was still mumbling her sweet little ‘sorry’s when her hand brushed right over his stiffening cock. And without thinking, he moaned at the barely-there contact, his head tipping back and eyes slipping shut.

Y/N sucked in a sharp breath and then the room was completely still, the tips of her fingers still hovering over him. And he knew he was a fucking goner. There was no recovering from that. She was gonna think he was such a perv now. She was never even going to look at him again.

“Fuck,” he said, his own cheeks flushing as he straightened up in the chair. He needed to get out of this room before the floor swallowed him whole. “God, I’m sorry. That was gross of me. I wasn’t thinking and I’ve been so pent up and-”

But slowly, much more tentatively, she reached out her hand again and traced over the bulge she found there. His eyes fluttered shut again and he resisted the urge to buck up into her touch. “Y/N…”

Her name was a sigh on his lips and she decided she wanted to hear him say again. And again. And again. So she applied a little more pressure to his covered cock. But a quick hand shot out, long fingers wrapping around her wrist in a grip tight enough to bruise. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princess.” His voice was deep and guttural, like it had grown talons and ripped its way free from his chest. 

Wide eyes snapped up from his grip on her wrist to meet his hard gaze. “Who said I can’t finish it?” It was a sudden burst of confidence, one Mingi found incredibly arousing, so different from the way she usually spoke with him. The words were soft and breathy, and Mingi would be lying if he said they didn’t send the rest of the blood in his body rushing to his cock.

Before she could even process what was happening, Mingi was standing from the makeup chair, his proximity forcing her to lean back into the vanity behind her. He leaned forward, bracing his hands against the countertop and effectively caging her to him. She took her time meeting his gaze again, raking her eyes from his crotch up to his chest and neck and finally to his face. 

The look in his eyes stole the breath from her lungs. He looked almost feral, as if he could devour her in a few bites. And she wanted him to. She wanted him to claim her so completely she’d be ruined for any other man. 

Without another word, she gripped the fabric of his t-shirt and jerked him forward. Mingi came to her willingly, leaning down to hover his lips just over hers. All the teasing, all the subtle (and not so subtle) flirting they had been doing over the past few months had led them to this exact moment.

Mingi closed the distance between them, gentler than she had been expecting, given his reaction moments ago. The press of his mouth to hers was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to savor every heartbeat, every breath. 

One of his hands found her hip, the other sliding up to cup her cheek, thumb softly brushing over the heated flesh he found there. The intimacy of it all had her melting into him, sighing into his mouth as she slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. 

His tongue traced over the seam of her lips, and she instantly granted him full access to her mouth, moaning when he licked into her. Mingi pulled back just enough to breathe onto her still-parted lips, “Keep making noises like that and I’ll have to bend you over the sofa.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” She leaned in and started pressing wet kisses along his jaw, trailing them down the column of his throat and focusing on the spot just below his Adam’s apple when he groaned above her. The hand on her cheek had found its way into her hair, and he gripped it just tight enough to get her attention as he pulled her away from his neck, her lips wet and shiny from the mark she was working onto his skin.

“I have a feeling you’d like both options,” his voice was low and gravelly with need, his grip on her hair tightening ever so slightly just to test the waters. 

She grinned up at him, eyes bright. “Why don’t we find out?”

Yeah, he was utterly fucked.

He slid his hand from her hip to the hem of her skirt, slipping underneath and bullying his way between her thighs so he could rub and tease her over her tights. She gasped at the contact, hands fisting in his shirt again.

“Fuckk,” he groaned when the pads of his fingers made contact with the dampness he could feel even through the fabric. “You’ve already soaked through your panties and tights, huh baby? You that needy for me?”

Mingi slowly, lazily, traced his knuckles back and forth over her slit, pressing them harder into the fabric when they caught at the slight dip into her entrance. She buried her face in his chest, whimpering with every torturous stroke. “Please,” she whined, “Minnie, please…”

Had he possessed even a fraction less willpower, he would have dropped to his knees then and there and offered her anything she wanted. He would have offered up his very soul to her to hear her beg for him like that again. 

“Please what, baby? Gotta tell me what you need if you want my help,” Mingi pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, knuckles still working over her clothed pussy.

The sweetness of the kiss compared to the sticky drag of his knuckles against her cunt was jarring. It had her head swimming. Y/N whimpered again, grip tightening on the front of his shirt. “Needyoutofuckme.”

Mingi smirked, he heard her well enough but he wanted to tease a little more. “Hm?” he hummed. “What was that? Use your big girl words.”

She groaned, leaning back just enough to pout up at him with glassy eyes. “I need you to fuck me, Mingi. Please.”

He chuckled, the sound sardonic and almost cruel. But he pressed another soft kiss to her hair and sighed, “Only because you asked so sweetly, princess.”

He kissed her again, more urgently this time, and his hands slipped around to her ass, groping and squeezing at her until she was whimpering into his mouth. God, did he love the taste of her. If her mouth tasted this good, he couldn’t wait to bury his tongue in her cunt. But there wasn’t enough time for that right then. He knew he would be fully and utterly obsessed once he got a proper taste of her; he wanted to be able to spread her out on his bed and lick and taste her for hours on end. 

He started walking them backward, his hands and mouth never leaving her. He broke the kiss just long enough to spin them around and lead her around to the back of the black leather sofa. 

Their reflections stared back at them from the vanity mirror directly across the room. Mingi had her trapped, his chest flush to her back and the fronts of her thighs pressed tightly to the heavy piece of furniture in front of her. 

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asked her, eyes finding hers in the mirror as his hands settled on her hips. As much as he wanted it, wanted her, he would stop immediately if she asked him to. He could suck up his pride and ego for her. 

Y/N held his gaze, taking one of his hands and dragging it up her body to her mouth. She pressed a soft kiss to his palm before resting it at the base of her throat, her hand laying on his. “I’m sure, Minnie.” 

He flexed his fingers around her throat, not even enough to really apply any pressure, but her eyes still fluttered shut at the movement. 

A strong, firm hand pressed between her shoulder blades, urging her to lean forward over the low backrest. Mingi slid his hand to the small of her back, and she instinctively arched as much as she could given the position. He hummed in approval, “There’s my good girl.”

Gooseflesh erupted all over her body. She shivered at his praise, leaning into his touch and damn near purring for him.

Mingi smirked down at her, feeling fucking euphoric at the reaction a simple touch and a few words earned him. He nudged her feet a little further apart, stepping forward to press himself flush against her ass and grinding into her. “Stop teasing,” she whined. “Need you inside me.”

He couldn’t help but groan as he stepped back just enough to flip her skirt up, the fabric bunching above her ass as he traced his thumbs down the seam of her tights. He gripped the thin, sheer material in his hands and gave a hard yank andthefabric gave easily. A sharp, staccato rrrrip sounded through the otherwise quiet room.

Y/N gasped and looked over her shoulder at the sound, and Mingi swore he was looking into the face of an angel. Her pupils were blown so wide he could barely see any of the color of the irises, a pretty pink flush on her cheeks, her swollen lips jutting into a pout he wanted to kiss right off her face. “These were my favorite tights.”

He couldn’t help but snort out a laugh as he leaned down and nuzzled her cheek with his nose, pressing a few soft kisses to her neck before mumbling, “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll buy you three more pairs, okay?”

She made a little humph sound, mumbling something about yeah, you better as she turned back around. Mingi cupped her pussy then, teasingly sliding his fingers against her clit over her black thong before he hooked his fingers into the damp fabric and jerked them to the side, finally baring her to him fully. He stepped back and groaned at the sight of her, bent over and glistening pussy peeking through the plush of her thighs.

He made quick work of unzipping his jeans, shoving them down along with his boxers just enough to free his aching cock. She glanced up into the mirror just in time to see Mingi spit into his hand and give himself a few quick strokes. The lewdness of it sent a fresh wave of wetness to her cunt. He met her gaze then, smirking when he noted her already fucked out expression. Hard cock still in hand, he closed the small distance between them, bracing the opposite hand on her hip and hissing as he dragged the tip of his cock through her folds. 

He lined himself up with her entrance, sliding in barely an inch before stopping and pulling back out. She whined and rutted her hips back into him, desperate for any sort of relief. Mingi shhhed her, trying to soothe her with comforting strokes of his thumb against her hip. “I’m really thick, baby,” he paused when she gave him a humorless snort in reply, still wiggling her hips.

“Listen to me,” he pinched at her ass then, hard, lips tugging into a pleased smirk when she squeaked. “Don’t be a brat. I’m not bragging about it… I just don’t want to hurt you.”

The words were said with such tenderness she couldn’t help but melt in that moment. Any thoughts she had of self-preservation had completely flown out the window. She stilled and let herself go completely pliant under him. 

Mingi hummed, satisfied with her reaction, and slid back in just a bit more than he had the first time. Y/N whined, the sound high and keening, and it had Mingi pushing in just a little more.

He was thick. Really thick. And the delicious, slow stretch was going to drive her insane. It felt like hours, days even, before he finally, blessedly bottomed out with a deep groan that had her clenching around him. 

Mingi was ready to get on his knees and thank every god he knew for this moment. The tight, wet heat of her pussy was absolute nirvana, everything and so much more than he had dreamed it would be. He didn’t know what good he had done in a past life to be granted this utter bliss, but if he were to die right now, he knew he could wish for no better way to go.

He gave her a heartbeat, then two, then three, to adjust to him before starting to pull back but she stopped him with a sharp, wait! Mingi felt his heart seize in his chest, immediately panicking that he truly had hurt her. 

She threw her hand back, finding and gripping his wrist before digging her nails into his skin. “Wait… I… I just wanna feel full of you for a second,” her voice stuttered and garbled like she was having trouble stringing thoughts and words together.

He hissed at the sharp sting of the pain from her nails biting into him, but his heart started beating again. Her grip loosened as he breathed a soft, yeah?

Mingi leaned forward, resting his weight on her, “That feel good, baby? Being stuffed full of my cock?” 

The new angle and added pressure had her knees going weak as he started grinding his hips into her, the head of his cock rubbing right against that spot inside her that had her seeing stars. “God, yes.” 

He pulled out then, just enough to slam back into her. The force of it knocked the breath from her lungs as he set a brutal pace, fucking into her with such primal need that she lost her ability to speak, to think, to do anything but closer her eyes and feel him driving her closer and closer to her oncoming ecstasy.

Then there was a firm arm wrapped around her sternum, tugging her backward until she rested against a hard chest. “Open your eyes, baby,” Mingi hummed, his breath hot against her neck. “Want you to watch how good you take my dick. Look at how pretty you are all fucked out for me. Perfect fucking pussy, my god…”

She couldn’t manage a response other than to keen and whine some garbled form of his name, her hands coming up to grip onto his forearm as she finally opened her eyes to look at their reflections in the mirror. She was already dripping for him, she could see it running down the insides of her thighs. “Gonna,” she cut herself off with a moan so loud Mingi had half a mind to stuff his fingers in her mouth to quiet her. But she turned her head towards him, eyes wide and a little frantic, “Gonna make a mess, Minnie.”

“Yeah?” His grin was feral as he slipped the hand still on her hip to her clit, “Gonna make a mess on my cock? Gonna cum real hard for me like a good girl?” His fingers started rubbing ruthless circles against her, quickening their pace as she squealed and jerked in his grip. 

Then she was soaking him, the wetness leaking from her like a broken faucet, the force of it pushing his cock from her. His fingers started flying against her clit, slipping and sliding against her effortlessly as he tried to drain every drop from her. When it finally ebbed, her body jerking and spasming in his hold, he slid his fingers from her clit down her slit, gathering the wetness and bringing his fingers up to her mouth. She opened without him having to tell her, taking his fingers into her mouth and licking them clean of her. 

Mingi had just found his new favorite hobby. He wanted to make her do that again. And again. He wanted to get on his knees and burry his face between her thighs and drink her. He would definitely be making time for that later. 

He lined himself back up and slipped inside her with ease, her nails bit into his forearm as she whined his name, her cunt fluttering and squeezing around him so tightly his vision went white for a heartbeat. 

“Shit,” he hissed, “if you keep clenching like that, I'm gonna bust inside you.”

“Do it,” she turned her face up towards his and licked at the underside of his jaw, reveling in the way he shivered as his eyes fluttered shut. “No one’s ever cum in me before.”

At the thought of getting to claim her in such an intimate way, of being the first to do so, Mingi snapped. He drove his hips up into her, setting his original brutal pace. Y/N gasped, her sensitive pussy still fluttering from the intensity of her orgasm. It didn’t take him long, only a few more thrusts before he was spilling into her with a guttural moan.

The sensation of it all, paired with the lingering aftershocks of her first orgasm, triggered another, weaker one. Her knees turned to jelly as she all but collapsed against the sofa. Mingi went with her, the weight and warmth of him against her back a comforting presence as she came back to earth. 

He kissed her once, twice between her shoulders before he slipped out her with a hiss, his softening cock still sensitive. He pulled her back upright, turning her to face him before urging her to rest against the hard edge of the back of the sofa. 

He brushed her mused hair back, cupping her face before peppering her cheeks and nose and forehead with feather-light kisses. “Let me clean you up, hm?”

He tucked himself back into his jeans, before rounding the sofa and heading for her kit to find the tissues she kept there. He grabbed a handful and came back to her, crouching in front of her and gently spreading her thighs apart again.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, voice so soft it nearly broke his heart. Y/N reached to take the tissues from him but he pulled away, just out of her reach. “Really Mingi. I can take care of myself.”

His brows furrowed, confused as to why she was hesitant to let him take care of her. “Y/N, baby, you just let me fuck the shit out of you and cum inside you. The very least I could do in return is clean up the mess.”

She started to protest again but he shhed her and wiped away the drying cum from her thighs and pussy. He hooked his fingers into the side of her thong and pulled it back into place before pressing a soft kiss over the fabric.

They were both so utterly done for. 

————

“And then he made me cum so fucking hard that I told him he could cum inside me,” She said, slightly mortified that she let that happen in the heat of the moment. But, in her defense, it was the best orgasm of her life. Truly, she considered calling the Guinness World Record people. 

Wooyoung looked disgusted yet oddly… satisfied. 

“First of all,” he paused, wagging a finger at her, “that’s gross. We all have to use that room, Y/N! That couch needs to be disinfected now! But… I have to tell Jongho. We’ve had a pool going for weeks. He owes me $100.” Wooyoung says, pulling out his phone from his jacket pocket. 

[baby-yongbok]

Love Hangover

Lee Minho x Afab!Reader

✦ Genre - Exes to Lovers?

✦ Word Count - 2.8k

✦ Summary - The pull of an undeniable connection between you and Minho leaves you hungover with desire. The lines between passion and control blur and you find yourself hooked in the cycle yet again. ✦ CW - Unprotected piv, fingering (f. rec) [let me know if I missed anything♡ ] ✦ A/N - Love Hangover by Jennie is my inspo for this. I love the song but this is more based off the lyrics than the overall song since it has a touch of angst to it - just a touch - I thought Minho fit well. I didn't proof read any of this...Enjoy. + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ ✦ ´-

✦ Masterlist✦

The air is thick with the remnants of him. Faint cologne lingers in the sheets, tangled between the folds like a ghost of last night. The room is dim, the morning light filtering through half-closed blinds, casting slanted shadows across the bed - across the space he should still be occupying.

But he’s gone. Again.

The ache behind your eyes isn’t just from the alcohol or the way he kissed you like he meant it. It’s the kind of hangover that sits in your chest, tightening with every slow inhale. You turn onto your side, fingertips grazing the spot where his warmth should be. It’s cold.

Of course, it is.

You tell yourself you won’t do this again. You won’t chase him, won’t let his absence feel like a presence. But when you hear the quiet clatter of dishes from the kitchen, a familiar pang twists in your stomach.

He’s still here.

And suddenly, you’re not sure if that’s better or worse.

You get up, bare except for his shirt. He always leaves one behind as a cruel reminder of this cycle you're stuck in. You wonder if he does that on purpose, maybe he knows that you only call him when his scent fades.

You make your way down the hall, rubbing your eyes and stretching your sore limbs until you reach the kitchen doorway, you hesitate, bare feet pressing against the cold floor, watching him from a distance.

There he is. Minho. 

 He stands by the counter, a glass of water in one hand, his other resting lazily against the edge of the sink. He doesn’t turn when you step closer, but you know he hears you - the slight tilt of his head, the way his fingers tighten just a fraction around the glass. The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, the remnants of last night clinging to the air.

You should say something. Maybe call him out on the way he always leaves before you wake up, or how he’s still here despite both of you knowing he shouldn’t be. But the words stay lodged in your throat. Instead, you reach for a cup from the shelf, moving past him.

The space between you is thin, fleeting, your shoulder barely brushing his as you stretch upward. But it’s enough. Enough for warmth to lick at your skin, for his scent - clean, sharp, something undeniably him - to stir something in your chest.

His voice comes softer than expected.

“You’re awake.”

It’s obvious, but it still makes your stomach tighten. You grip the cup in your hands, not looking at him.

“So are you.”

He huffs a quiet breath, something close to a laugh, but it lacks humor.

You chance a glance at him then, and he’s already watching you. His gaze is unreadable, dark lashes casting shadows beneath tired eyes. He looks like he wants to say something - like maybe, just this once, he’ll explain why he does this, why he keeps leaving only to come back.

But instead, he shifts, setting his glass down on the counter with a soft clink. Then, he reaches out - slow, deliberate.

His fingers barely graze your wrist, a touch so light it could be an accident, but it isn’t.

Your pulse jumps.

And just like that, the cycle starts again.

“You always leave before I wake up,” Your voice is still hoarse from sleep and last night’s emotions. 

Minho smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You always let me.”

His graze turns into a hold and then a pull and the cup in your hand is forgotten on the counter as your chest presses to his. His lips are on yours in a swift move, a familiar rhythm.

Ah, shit. Here we go. 

Your hands fist in the shirt he stole from your dresser to replace the one you’re wearing. His hands bypass the fabric covering you to paw at your bare thighs. He pushes you back until you're pinned against the kitchen island, under him just how he likes you. 

Your breath stutters when his fingers press into your thighs, firm but never forceful. He always takes what he wants like this - like he already knows you’ll give in.

Like you always do.

His lips move against yours with a desperate kind of familiarity, as if he’s chasing a feeling he refuses to name. Your fingers tighten in his shirt, dragging him closer, swallowing whatever words he might’ve said before this all started again. But even as he kisses you, there’s something lingering in the space between - something unsaid, something heavy.

Your back meets the cool surface of the kitchen island, a sharp contrast to the heat rolling off him. Minho’s hands splay against your skin, palms mapping out a path they’ve traced too many times before. You let your head fall back slightly, exposing the vulnerable curve of your throat, and he exhales against it, lips brushing over your pulse.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice is rough, breathless, but there’s a challenge hidden beneath the words. One you never meet.

You don’t tell him to stop. You never do.

Instead, your hands slip under his shirt, fingertips dragging over warm skin, and he shudders against you. His grip tightens at your waist, teeth grazing your jaw like he’s trying to anchor himself in the moment. Or maybe in you.

And then, between kisses, between breaths, between the inevitable pull that always drags you back under, something slips.

A whisper against your skin.

“You always let me.”

It isn’t cocky this time. It isn’t teasing. It sounds like an admission. A quiet kind of regret laced between the kisses that are starting to feel more like apologies than anything else.

And maybe, just maybe, that should scare you.

But when he lifts you onto the counter, pressing closer, sinking deeper, the only thing you can do is fall with him.

Again.

“Minho,” You breathe, your voice thick with want and something else - something dangerous.

He stops, pulling back slightly, eyes dark, lips swollen from your kiss. “What?”

“You’re holding back.”

A challenge laces your words, and you see his jaw tighten as his grip on your waist tightens in response.

“You think I’m holding back?”

You lean in, dragging your lips over his ear. “Afraid you’ll lose control?” 

He freezes, eyes darkening as he feels the shift, the way your body moves under his, already seeking control. You slide your hands from his chest, over the tight muscles of his stomach, down to the waistband of his pants. He tenses at the movement, his breath sharp, but you stop him before he can take the reins. 

“No,” You whisper, voice soft but firm. “Not yet.” 

His gaze flickers between confusion and desire, but you keep him where he is. You lean up, dragging your lips slowly over his neck, grazing your teeth over his pulse, savoring the way his breath hitches.

“You're so good at this,” You murmur, fingers skimming the skin just above his waistband. “But you're not the only one who can play.”

You press your lips against his jaw, trailing soft kisses as you slide your hand past the waistband of his jeans, caressing him over his boxers. He inhales sharply, his fingers dig into your thighs, wanting to take over, but you stop him.

“Eyes on me,” You command, and his gaze snaps to yours, dark and burning with a mix of curiosity and restraint. His chest rises and falls with each breath, you can see it in his eyes now, you were right. He’s holding back.

You bring your free hand up to smooth over his chest and his muscles strain under your slow touch. You let your hand linger on his bare chest, fingertips brushing lightly over his skin while the other palms a groan out of him.

He shudders, his breath betraying him, but you don’t let him take control.

“You want me,” You murmur, pressing your lips to his throat, your voice low and teasing. “But you’re going to wait.”

You remove your hands and push him back just enough to jump down from the counter. Your hands find the waistband of his jeans again, tracing your fingertips along the edge, slow, teasing.

Minho’s breath quickens, his hands grab at your hips, but you maintain your control. 

“Patience,” You whisper, your voice dripping with sweet control.

Minho’s gaze darkens, his jaw tightening. “You’re pushing your luck.”

“Am I?” You look up at him, pressing your body closer. One of his hands reaches up and lightly grip your jaw, forcing your gaze to stay on his, forcing the control back into his hands. “Yes, you are.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s much more heated than the last. Your lips part for him, letting him deepen it little by little.

This is the part where he ruins you.

 He walks you backwards, making his way to the couch with nothing but muscle memory to guide him. His hands find the back of your thighs and then he’s going down with you. One hand behind your head as he lays you down yet again.

His hand finds where you're bare and ghosts over the slick flesh, you open up for him further with a hot moan that he swallows. He doesn’t touch you completely, instead he goes up, running his hand over your plush flesh and revisiting curves with an expert touch. 

He cups your breast, kneading the flesh and pinching at your nipple when his tongue slides against yours. You can’t even manage a moan, instead you touch him, lifting his shirt to scratch at the muscles that only flex like this for you. 

It’s messy, unorganized as always. The hangover of last night is remedied while you have his lips on yours. Just for now.

“Last chance.” He whispers against you, trailing his kisses down over your jaw. “Tell me to stop.”

His hand doesn’t stop and neither does yours. You pull his shirt up higher and higher until he has to pull back and strip for you. “You wouldn’t stop even if I asked.” Your hands run down his toned core, your eyes fixed on his. “Would you?”

“Maybe.” He pushes your shirt up now, exposing your chest and kneading at your other breast. “But I wanna hear you say it.” His hands trace over your sides, his eyes follow, memorizing you for the umpteenth time. 

“Lie and say you don’t want this.” Minho dips down, kissing along your collar bones then down down down until he gets to your chest. He licks over your nipple, teasing the bud with wet kitten licks that have you arching. He holds the mound of flesh in place, sucking and flicking.

His request is forgotten on the spot, your body sets alight with heat and your hips move against his. You can feel how hard he is, you can feel the strain. “Don’t tease me.”

Minho lifts his head, looking at you with a stare so intense you’d fold if you weren’t so used to it. He licks over your nipple again, eyes on yours as he does the opposite of what you requested.

“Minho.”

“It gets you so wet.” He retorts and then he’s feeling between your thighs, slipping his finger between your folds and dipping in just a bit to spread your slick. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing?” 

Your nails dig into his sides and he bites his lip. “Sit pretty and let me ruin you.”

“If you’re going to ruin me, then do it properly.” That’s all it takes for his fingers to sink deeper, curling and dragging over the spot that might as well be named after him with how loudly you moan his name. Every single time. 

His lips are on yours again and this time they’re rough, pressing into you like he’s got something to prove. Your legs shake, parting for him further to let him explore deeper. His thumb presses against your clit, circling the bud in the rhythm that he’s memorized as yours.

“You’re shaking. I’ve barely even started yet.” Panting moans are all he’s met with in response. Your hand goes back to his jeans, palming him and messing with the button until you manage to pop it. His zipper follows and then you feel him, under his boxers, hot and bare. Now he’s moaning, his pace falters and his eyelids flutter.

“God,” He groans, his muscles straining as he fights to keep composure. “You want that? Tell me.”

“Fuck me.” Your words layer over his before he can even get the last one out. 

“Greedy.” He mumbles, pulling away and leaving you empty while he fights with his jeans until he’s bare from the waist down. You collect yourself and sit up, pushing him down and straddling him. Neither of you have a care for taking it slow anymore, there’s no need to savor a moment that’ll happen again next week.

You sink down and his arm wraps around you, his hand splayed over your side while the other holds onto your thigh. When you move he closes his eyes, a moan gets caught in his chest and his hips buck up to meet yours. You bring your hands to his shoulders, pulling him forward, pulling him closer. When his chest meets yours he can feel the beat of you. He can feel your chest rise and fall and it drives him crazy, it’s too intimate, something that you two shouldn’t be. 

Minho pushes back, bringing a hand up to your throat to gain a semblance of control. He meets your every move, driving his cock deep into you but it’s not enough. “Hold on to me.” He shifts again, gripping your thighs and lifting you while staying deep deep deep inside. You moan, your head falling back the second he pins you to the nearest wall. 

He starts moving again, lifting and dropping you down as he drills you. “It’s you who ruins me.” He groans, gripping your ass as he snaps his hips. “I hate how good you feel. Too good.”

It’s surprising that you can even hear him over your moans, he’s driving you insane, he’s got you spinning like you're drunk and you can’t get enough of it. Your nails dig into his shoulder, leaving marks over the ones you etched into him last night. 

You know that he means what he said, he hates this cycle just as much as you do but it’s got you both hooked. If it’s so toxic why does it feel so fucking good? If you shouldn’t fuck you why does his cock make your cunt drool so effortlessly? 

He grabs your hips, and holds you in place with the help of your arms around his neck and legs wrapped tight around his waist. His muscles flex as his pace sets into something relentless, desperate to maybe fuck some sense in to you both but all you feel is an undeniable high inching closer and closer.

“Look at me while I make you cum.” Your gaze snaps to his, fucked out and dizzy. He’s no better and he knows it, the thought makes his cock twitch with a groan. “Fucking c’mon, baby, give it to me.” 

He’s barely holding on when you squeeze and release for him. It’s loud and messy, a gush of hot arousal while his own cum spills and plugs you. Your moans are mirrors as you ride out your highs, you pull him closer but he resists. 

His hips still eventually, you both quiet and the raw reality that you two have fallen into each other yet again hangs in the air. Minho’s grip tightens on your hips as your walls tighten around him, every movement a mix of tension and release. You’re both teetering on the edge of something that’s not just physical, but something far more dangerous.

His lips find yours again - desperate and messy. His hips start moving steady again, an excuse to avoid the inevitable end.  “This,” He murmurs, voice hoarse, “Isn't just sex, is it?”

You don’t answer at first, still riding the high of his touch, of his presence. Your body still hums with the intensity, and the only thing that matters right now is that you’re here, together. But you know what he’s asking, what he wants to hear.

“Is it?” He presses, his voice strained, as he gives in and lets your chest rest against his. You know the answer but you ignore it with a kiss and hope that he will too. 

Your arms wrap around his neck and he deepens the kiss with a hum, he knows. He carries you to your bedroom and lays you down, only breaking the kiss to take you again, this time from behind, rough just how you like it. 

He’s dizzy

You’re dizzy 

The room is spinning and it will again tomorrow, and the next day and the next. You’ll remedy the hangover with him over and over again, with the very person who got you drunk and every time you’ll say the same thing:

Ah, shit, you did it again.

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[theemporium]

[10k] an investigative study into the mysterious fish that saved his life; by oscar piastri with the assistance of logan sargeant, google searches and a crush that makes a man blind to the obvious signs that his coworker is a mermaid.

happy birthday @scuderiahoney!! for one of my fav people and one of my fav spirals we have had together<3

inspired by this moodboard

warning: mentions and descriptions of drowning!! idk why that wee bit went angsty but it did so be warned!!

.

THE PREFACE 

Oscar Piastri never considered himself a ‘go with the flow’ kind of guy, but more of a ‘never have a plan’ kind of guy instead. 

He likes to let fate guide his decisions, or at least that’s what he told himself. That the universe was looking down at him and putting him where he needed to be. 

Because it was fate that he read the wrong room number, ending up in an ocean wildlife conservation lecture rather than the mechanical engineering one he was meant to be in. 

Because it was fate that he found a map, with a small seaside town circled, in the glovebox of the secondhand car he managed to save up and buy. 

Because it was fate that that very seaside town had one of Australia’s biggest ocean conservation programmes that was currently accepting applicants. 

Because it was fate that the dodgy, beachside cabin he bought for ridiculously cheap ended up being home to a stray dog who would become his best friend. 

Because fate was the only explanation for so many things in Oscar’s life that he never planned to happen nor did he believe would’ve just happened if he followed along the way he was. He chose to believe that there was some superior being up there that was making sure he was sticking to the path that was meant for him. 

And so far, it hadn’t led him astray. 

In fact, all things considered with his mother’s constant questioning and uncertainty of him moving so far from home for the programme, things had been working out pretty well for Oscar. 

He enjoyed the routine he had settled into in the almost year of being in one of Australia’s most picturesque, scenic seaside towns. 

Every morning he woke up just before sunrise, when the sky was breaking into pinks and oranges and yellows. He would shuffle his way into the kitchen, pouring a bowl of kibble for Buddy and a bowl of cereal for himself before taking a run along the beach (that was essentially his front garden) until the sun was in the sky. Some days he hit the water, most days he tried to stop Buddy from eating the jellyfish that had washed up on the beach. 

He would have a quick shower, put out some more food for Buddy before riding his bike fifteen minutes towards the water park (because unlike the others, he listened to Sebastian’s talks on lessening your carbon footprint). 

He would greet Alex and George by the door, the two already arguing or disagreeing about something or the other. 

“Alex, they have to show you proof of university ID to get a student discount!” 

“They looked trustworthy!” 

He would pass by the gift shop where Lando would be sitting on the cashier counter, swinging his legs back and forth and fiddling with the speakers to play whatever music he was feeling that day. 

“I’m telling you, Aussies love country music, Osc. You’re clearly the odd one out.” 

Some days, he would pass by Charles and Max by the tourist booth, bickering back and forth about the customer shows and tours for the day. 

“I can’t dedicate thirty minutes of my tour to you, Charles.” 

“But the penguins have learnt new tricks!” 

Other days he would pass by the labs where Sebastian would stick his head out, waving at the boy and throwing some weird and wondrous fact at him. 

“Hey, Oscar, did you see that the squid killer parasite was treated successfully last week?” 

And some days Sebastian stayed in the lab, the door closed and locked behind him which told Oscar and the others that Mark, the park’s owner, was visiting. 

And by the time Oscar reached the staff room to drop his stuff off in his locker and prepare for the day, Logan would’ve somehow hunted him down and began yapping his ear off about something or the other before he eventually brought up his favourite topic. 

The crush Oscar had on you. 

“You must be happy this morning,” Logan commented offhandedly as they left the main building, heading down towards the animal habitats. 

“As opposed to every other morning when I’m always angry and upset?” Oscar deadpanned, shooting the American a look. 

“Just thought you would’ve had a small mood booster after seeing the rota,” Logan shrugged, but there was a mischievous and knowing glint in his eyes. “Heard you were on the late shift.” 

Oscar narrowed his eyes. “Uh huh.” 

“On the late shift with a certain someone,” Logan continued. “Someone you happen to—”

“Do you have to do this every time?” Oscar asked, deadpanned.

But Logan was already nodding. “Yes, it brings me great joy when you try to act nonchalant and then lose your mind in front of her.” 

Oscar scoffed. “I do not lose my mind in front of her.” 

“Hey, guys!” 

Oscar felt his mouth run dry when he turned his head to find you already out on the dock by the dolphin enclosure. It was embarrassing the way his brain went blank, the way his eyes were glued to you—your outfit no different to the uniform both he and Logan and everyone else wore—and not a single coherent thought could leave his mouth. 

He felt Logan jab him in the ribs, kickstarting his brain and letting out an awkward garble before he managed to blurt out, “Heyo!” 

He wondered if jumping into the tank with the dolphins would save any of his dignity. 

“What he meant to say was hey back,” Logan called out, far too smiley as he tried to hold back his glee. “You’re out here early.” 

“I was teaching Rufus a new trick,” you explained, something quite fond in your voice as you turned to smile at the dolphin who was currently nudging a ball towards you. “And then Gizmo felt left out so I played with him a bit too.” 

Logan raised his brows. “With one ball?” 

“I’m creative,” you shrugged. “If you were working in the dolphin enclosure, I would’ve taught you my tricks, Sargeant.” 

“Well, you can always teach Oscar!” Logan said, giving his friend a slightly rough slap on the back which caused him to stagger forward. “I’m sure he would love to learn anything you wanna teach him!” 

Oscar shot Logan a glare. 

Logan only grinned wider. 

“I’ll see if I can make him a dolphin whisperer,” you teased, lighthearted and playful and unaware of the lingering tension between the two boys. You turned to Oscar with a kind smile on your face, one that kind of made his brain go fuzzy. “It’s been a while, Piastri. I’ve missed working with you.” 

And Oscar could feel his cheeks burning up but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he mirrored your smile, his heart beating wildly in his chest. 

“I’ve missed it too,” Oscar replied, sincere and genuine. 

He did. He really did. Because despite all of Logan’s taunting and teasing about Oscar’s crush on you—which was very much real—he also appreciated you as a friend. He had since the day you both started, anxious and eager and leaning on each other for support since day one. 

Just somewhere along the line, Oscar managed to catch some feelings he couldn’t quite shake away. But it was fine. He had them under control. He had long ago accepted they wouldn’t be requited and he would let them run their course before the friendship returned to normal—whilst you were none the wiser. 

“The dolphins missed you too,” you added. “That’s just ‘cause you feed them an extra herring.” 

“I gotta bribe them!” Oscar defended. “You have some secret bond with them. It’s not fair.” 

You snorted. “Well, lucky for you, you’re on swimming duty. Get that wet suit on, Piastri.” 

And then, you flashed him a wink and turned around and—

Yeah, Oscar was far from moving on from how he felt about you. 

But it was fine. Because Oscar Piastri was the kind of guy who let fate take the reins for him. 

Because fate led him to this town. Because fate led him to this job. Because fate led him to you and all the others he had bonded with to make a dysfunctional but supportive family. 

Because it was fate that led him to making one of the biggest discoveries in his life. 

…

THE SIGHTING 

It was as normal as a morning could be. 

He had woken up a little earlier than his alarm, a weird and unsettling feeling in his chest that he brushed off as the few hours of sleep he had managed to get. Buddy wasn’t much better, not as eager to get out of the house as he usually was when Oscar stood by the door for their morning walk. 

It was a little chilly, enough to warrant Oscar wearing a jumper as they wandered down the beach until Buddy felt a little more relaxed and playful. 

But by the time they returned to the house, Oscar was still wired with some restless energy itching under his skin and still three hours until his shift started at the park. 

He thought a quick go at the morning waves would help settle the feeling buzzing through his body before he started scratching at his own skin. 

The water was cold and refreshing and definitely washed away any last dregs of sleep that Oscar had been clinging onto. The exhaustion was long gone, now replaced with a different type of adrenaline that made him seek out the waves that made him work for it. 

It was still early, far too early for many people to be on the beach. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon and Buddy was still half asleep on the beach by his towel, no real rush to join Oscar in the water any time soon. 

Everything was fine. 

Everything was normal. 

The morning sun was starting to shine through, but instead of fluffy, white clouds like the forecast had assured, large, dark clouds were taking over the barely blue sky. It was disconcerting, especially when the waves seemed to be getting rougher. 

He took one glance down at his watch, assuring himself he had enough time for one more wave before he headed back to shore to get ready for his shift at the marine park. With a deep breath, he narrowed his eyes at the water and began paddling with his hands. 

The wave didn’t look too big or risky. It should have been an easy attempt, one that Oscar could do with little to no thought on a day with good weather. But the wind was stronger than he realised, the water more temperamental than he assumed and it didn’t take Oscar long to realise that this wave wasn’t going to end well. 

But the panic didn’t start setting in until the wave washed over him, knocking him off his board with little time for him to take a breath before he went under. He could feel the current tugging his body in different directions, pulling his arms one way whilst the leash around his ankle pulled him in the opposite direction with his board. 

And no matter how hard he kicked his legs and propelled his arms, he couldn’t seem to get any closer to the surface. 

It hit him that he was absolutely fucked when he could feel his lungs starting to burn.

Buddy would be left on the beach, whining and crying out for Oscar until someone found him. Or, god forbid, the loyal dog would try to swim out and find him himself. Oscar was all he knew, the only family Buddy had ever known and it was clear that the dog loved him. It made him feel a twisted sort of pain at the idea of leaving the dog behind. 

People at work would be confused when he didn’t turn up for his shift. Logan would probably be the first to notice when he spends far too long waiting for Oscar in the staff room, watching the clock with a frown. The blond would probably offer to drive out to his house to check up on him. Charles would probably offer to join and might even offer to drive if he could see the boy’s hand shaking too much. He wondered if you would join. 

Sebastian would probably have to call his family back home, to tell them. His stomach twisted into something bitter and awful at the thought of leaving his family behind, of never being able to hug his mother again or tease his sisters or surf with his father. 

His body stopped fighting at one point, too tired to even attempt to reach the surface. But his brain kept going, kept haunting him with the life his family and friends would lead whilst he continued to float and float and—

And then he saw it. 

It was blurry, his vision dotted with black and white blobs as the overwhelming urge to close his eyes took over his body. But he saw it. He saw the flashes of orange, the scales glimmering in the little light under the surface. He saw a fin and scales and then—

Skin. 

And hair. 

And arms reaching for him. 

And he swore he saw the features of a human face staring back at him, but before he could even try to force his eyes to focus, everything was going black and Oscar let it happen. 

…

The first that hit him was how fucking cold he was. 

The second was—

Well, the second hit him when his eyes blinked open, barely giving him a chance to acknowledge the people surrounding him before he coughed, emptying out the saltwater that was still stuck in his lungs. 

He could feel someone’s hand soothing his back, the action almost relieving if it weren’t for the fact Oscar swore he couldn’t stop shivering. 

“Let it all out, honey, atta boy,” a woman’s voice soothed as Oscar laid on his side, panting heavily and trying to wrap his head around everything before he felt a furry head pushing against his own. 

“Hey, Buddy,” Oscar breathed out, his lips twitching as he let the dog practically throw himself on top of Oscar even if it was still a little hard to breathe. 

“Smart dog you got there,” the woman spoke up again and Oscar finally turned his head to find a kind-looking woman smiling down at him. It took a few seconds before he realised she was wearing the paramedic uniform. “He managed to drag a couple out of their car to come help you. They are the ones who called us.”

Oscar blinked. “You swam out?” 

The woman frowned a little. “Of course not, honey. The waves seemed to have washed you in. You were lying out on the beach when we got called out.” 

“I—” Oscar blinked again, his confusion growing as he stared out at the ocean for a few moments. “Right. Of course.” 

“Do you remember what happened?” The kind paramedic asked.

“A little,” Oscar admitted. “I was surfing and the wave took me under. The current started dragging me further out. But then I saw—” Before he paused. Images of orange scales and a human face flashed in his mind but there was a voice in the back of his head that told him to stop, to keep that to himself.

“Saw what?” The paramedic prompted. 

“I don’t know,” Oscar eventually said as he shrugged. “I think I blacked out after that.” 

“I see,” the woman nodded, though he couldn’t read whether she believed him or not. “Think you can stand up? We just wanna do some standard tests, make sure you are alright. Then maybe someone you know can come pick you up.” 

“No need, my house is just there,” Oscar said as he nodded towards the cabin in the distance. “I feel fine, I promise—” 

“Procedure,” the woman said with a sheepish smile. “C’mon, it won’t take long. Promise.” 

And true to her word, it hadn’t taken long. 

Beyond some tests to prove that he knew his name, had basic motor functions and wasn’t concussed, he was allowed to head back home with Buddy by his side and a blanket wrapped around his body to try and maintain what little heat he had left.

His body was running mostly on muscle memory as he shuffled into the house, pulling the blanket off (against better judgement) and starting to unzip his wetsuit so he could peel it off his body like a second skin. 

He was smiling down at Buddy, who had refused to leave his side, when he felt a sharp prick against his finger. He winced, lifting his thumb to his mouth without second thought before glancing down to see what had nicked him. 

His eyes widened comically large when he saw an orange scale stuck to the side of his leg, sparkling and glistening the same way he swore it had under the water. The attempt of removing the wet suit was quickly abandoned as he glanced around the room, swearing under his breath before shuffling towards the kitchen. 

Buddy followed, whining and huffing as Oscar slammed cupboards doors open and shut before finding a small container. He leaned down, grabbing the scale as gently as he could before transferring it to the container. 

“M’telling you, Bud, that thing out there saved my life,” he spoke, his voice still a little raspy and raw. “I don’t know what it is but it wasn’t a normal fish. And I’m gonna figure out what the hell it is.” 

With all due respect, Buddy looked at his owner like he was insane but Oscar didn’t seem to notice. 

…

“I need you to look at something for me.” 

Logan let out a high-pitched scream, his body reacting quicker than he could keep up with and causing him to fall out of his seat before he noticed Oscar standing there, a frown on his lips. The blond let out a curse, his hand pressed against his chest as he let out a deep sigh of relief. 

“Fucking hell, dude, don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” Logan grumbled before pausing, scrambling to stand up and really focus on Oscar this time. “What the fuck are you doing here? You should be resting!” 

Oscar blinked. “I’m fine.” 

“You almost drowned,” Logan said slowly, like he was explaining the point to a child.

“Yes, Logan, I’m aware,” Oscar deadpanned. “I was there, believe it or not.”

“I—” Logan let out a deep breath. “You’re insane. Like actually insane. I think you lost too many brain cells because you shouldn’t be out of bed, let alone at work—”

“I’m not here to work,” Oscar corrected before flashing his friend a grin. “I came here because I need your weird fish encyclopaedic knowledge.” 

Logan stared at him. “Be honest with me, did your board hit your head?” 

“Shut up,” Oscar rolled his eyes before gesturing to the jar he slammed on the table before Logan fell off his seat. “Look.” 

Logan frowned a little, picking up the jar and peeking inside. “I know you work with dolphins but I’d at least hope you know that’s a fish scale.”

Oscar shot him a look. “I know it’s a fish scale but I need to know which fish it belongs to.”

Logan blinked. “You think I’d be able to take one look at this random scale and tell you which fish it belonged to?” 

“I mean,” Oscar shrugged. “Yeah. Kinda.” 

“You’ve been hanging around the dolphins far too much,” Logan murmured. 

“Listen, whichever fish that scale belongs to saved my life,” Oscar started. 

Logan stared at him like he had grown a second head. “A fish saved you from drowning?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you are sure you didn’t hit your head?” 

“Oh my god,” Oscar huffed. “Look, I know what I saw. It had a huge orange tail but it also had…like…skin and hair.” 

“Very commonly found in marine animals,” Logan deadpanned. 

“I’m serious,” Oscar said, his lips turned downwards. “And think, if it is a new kind of fish and you help me discover it—” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Logan muttered, waving him off. “For the record, I still think you’re going insane but I’m your friend so I’ll help you out.” 

Oscar grinned. “I knew you’d help.” 

“You owe me lunch though,” Logan added. “I dropped my burrito when you scared me.” 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Fine, deal.” 

…

THE INVESTIGATION

Despite his concern, Oscar managed to convince Sebastian to let him come back to work the next day (after saying he would be bored out of his mind at home) with the condition that Buddy be allowed to join him at work considering the dog had downright refused to leave his side since the accident. 

George and Alex had been awkward at the front. They had been less than subtle at their surprise that he had come into work so soon, and in turn, had been dreadfully unprepared in the etiquette of how to talk to your coworker friend who had almost drowned and died less than twenty-four hours earlier. 

Lando had been no better, downright asking him if he met God in the few minutes he lacked oxygen under water before being washed back out to shore. He hadn’t understood why Oscar—and even Buddy—had stared at him blankly.

Charles had been a little more sympathetic, though oddly protective of the boy. He had been a little fussy at Oscar coming in so early, insisting that he would make sure the boy had proper breaks and meals, even if he had to talk to Sebastian himself. Max had rolled his eyes at the other boy’s antics but clapped Oscar on the back and said he was happy he was alive. 

Even Logan had been cautious around the boy. Despite his agreement to help search for the fish that saved him, he still constantly looked at Oscar like he had downright lost his mind. And maybe he had. 

The only person who seemed to be acting remotely normal towards him was you, or at least it felt that way. 

“You know, Rufus really missed you yesterday.” 

Oscar raised his brows as he walked down the pier towards where you stood, two buckets of fish in each hand. “I think we must be talking about different Rufuses.” 

You rolled your eyes, though it seemed quite fond as you patted the spot next to you as you sat on the edge of the dock. “He likes you. He just also likes teasing you.” 

“That’s easy for you to say, he is a little prince around you,” Oscar commented, smiling softly when Buddy rushed towards your side, nuzzling you fondly. 

“There’s my favourite dog,” you cooed, taking Buddy’s face in your hands and pressing a smacking kiss on the top of his head. “Such a handsome boy.” 

Oscar chose to ignore the fact he was feeling oddly jealous of his dog of all people. 

“You’re just a dolphin whisperer,” Oscar said eventually, looking out at the two rescue dolphins that were currently chasing each other with a red ball between them. “I don’t get how you do it.” 

You shrugged, but your smile was mischievous. “If I told you, I would have to kill you.” 

Oscar snorted in response. It would have been embarrassing if it didn’t make your smile widen. 

A few moments of comfortable silence passed between the two of you with Oscar watching the dolphins and your attention on the needy dog now half-sprawled across your lap. You waited a few moments before you found the confidence to speak up again.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, your fingers tangled in Buddy’s fur as the dog sighed happily. “I mean, obviously you don’t have to answer that but if you want to talk about it—”

“I’m okay,” he answered with a kind smile. “It was…weird.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Weird is an understatement.” 

But Oscar just shrugged his shoulders. “I was lucky, that’s what I’m choosing to focus on.” 

You nodded but you didn’t say anything in response. You didn’t get the chance as Logan came barrelling down the dock, a huge grin spread across his face and a bunch of scuba equipment in his arms.

“Dude, you won’t believe what Seb let me borrow!” 

Oscar’s eyes widened as he quickly scrambled up, shooting Logan a look that he didn’t seem to understand. 

“Don’t worry,” Logan rolled his eyes. “I didn’t tell him about your mission to find—” 

But Oscar reached over to smack his hand over Logan’s mouth before the boy could continue, laughing awkwardly as he looked over his shoulder at you. “He doesn't know what he’s talking about!”

You glanced between the boys, eyeing the scuba equipment curiously. “Hiding some top secret mission from me?” 

“No, of course not!” Oscar quickly blurted out. “It’s just…something stupid.” 

You raised your brows. “And requires state of the art diving equipment?” 

Oscar just laughed nervously.

Logan finally managed to push Oscar’s hand away, something mischievous and cunning shining in his eyes as he glanced at Oscar before looking at you. “You know, we have spare equipment. You could totally join us tomorrow—”

But before Oscar could intervene, you were already responding. 

“Oh no, I can't swim.” 

Logan blinked. “What?” 

“I, uh, mean,” you laughed, awkward and stilted as you quickly stood up, almost tripping on Buddy as you did so. “I swim. I can swim. Just not well.” 

Logan nodded slowly. “Well, Oscar could always teach you—” 

“No, no, don’t let me hold you back,” you insisted before clearing your throat. “God, would you look at that! I should go get some more fish. Bye, guys!” 

Neither boy got a chance to say much before you were running down the dock, heading towards the main building. Logan watched you for a moment before looking down at the two full buckets of fish by his feet. 

“Well, that wasn’t weird at all,” he deadpanned.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “You’re reading too much into it.” 

Logan gave him a weird look. “Dude, she’s literally lying. It’s a part of the entry requirements to be able to swim and be fully lifeguard trained.” 

“Well, maybe you made her uncomfortable and she felt the need to lie,” Oscar retorted.

Logan rolled his eyes. “A man in love is a blind man.” 

Oscar shook his head. “Pipe down, Shakespeare, and show me what Seb gave you.” 

…

As it would turn out, aimlessly diving around the area Oscar almost drowned was a useless and fruitless endeavour. 

Who would have thought?

Logan, clearly, considering the boy had been insisting as much since the two of them waddled back into Oscar’s cabin, their wetsuits drying out on the balcony and the heavy weight of exhaustion on their shoulders after the hours of searching was something that was not there. 

“Maybe it needs a purpose to show itself,” Logan suggested as he slumped down on the couch, happily letting Buddy jump up and join him. “Maybe you need to almost die again.” 

Oscar shot him a look.

“Right. Too soon. Sorry.” 

“No, I—” Oscar paused, shaking his head and letting it drop. He was too tired to deal with it anyways. “That is not a theory we are going to test.” 

“Whatever you say, man,” Logan shrugged, settled against the soft throw pillows Oscar’s mother had insisted he needed to buy to make his place seem a bit homier. “What’s your plan anyways?” 

Oscar frowned a little in confusion. “For what?” 

“When you find this fish,” Logan stated. “Like, what are you gonna do? Say thank you and move on with your life?” 

“Well, no, I—” he paused for a moment. “I hadn’t really thought about it. It’s a weird fish.” 

“And diving the depths of the ocean will get us nowhere except having a very boring hobby for the next fifty years,” Logan deadpanned. “Describe the fish again. Maybe we can note down some main features and do some research. There’s probably something on the internet.” 

“I don’t know,” Oscar shrugged, turning his attention back to whatever scraps were left in his fridge that he could somehow make a meal from. “I have never seen a fish like this.” 

“Because you know every fish ever to exist.” 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” 

“C’mon, just try,” Logan whined as he reached for his phone, muttering out a small ‘sorry’ when he had to manoeuvre Buddy on his lap before he pulled up a new tab. “We have orange scales, big, skin and hair-like features—”

“It was skin and hair.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Logan murmured as he continued to add a few more details Oscar had told him before hitting search. He waited a few moments, looking through the top searches before he let out a loud snort. “Okay, maybe you were right. Maybe googling is useless.” 

“Why? What does it say?” Oscar asked, reaching for the jar of pasta sauce that seemed to be shoved towards the back of his cupboard. For the sake of his rumbling stomach, he decided not to linger on how long it had been back there for.

“It says you’re looking for a mermaid,” Logan snorted, his amusement clear in his voice. “I mean, come on! Like any sucker would believe that.” 

However, when he turned his head to see if Oscar was laughing along with him, he found the boy staring back with a contemplative look on his face.

“No,” Logan groaned, leaning his head back against the pillows. “No, Oscar, we are not—” 

“It might be,” Oscar argued back.

“You need to get your head checked,” Logan grumbled.

“Just find as many reliable sources on mermaids as you can whilst I make lunch,” Oscar retorted, waving him off as the American let out a squawk of protest.

“He’s gone insane. My best friend has gone insane.” 

“I can hear you.”

“Good!” 

…

“I can’t believe these words are about to leave my mouth—” 

“You don’t need to say that everytime.” 

“But how do we know we are dealing with a mermaid and not a siren?” Logan questioned as the two of them sat on the dock by the dolphins, sandwiches in hand as they enjoyed their lunch break whilst entertaining Rufus and Gizmo with the new toys Sebastian had ordered.

“Because it would have killed me if it was a siren,” Oscar responded matter-of-factly. “If it was a siren, they probably would have eaten me.” 

“Should we really be saying it? Wouldn’t it be a she?” Logan asked, but before he could even wait for an answer, he was continuing. “And how do we know she speaks English? Like, she could speak some ocean language. Maybe you need to start speaking fish so you can thank her if we find her.”

Oscar blinked. “Speaking fish? Really?” 

“What? I am just making assumptions here,” Logan murmured. “It’s not like there’s a lot of accurate and reliable sources for mermaid logistics and habits.”

“Well, she is also probably a human living in this town,” Oscar pointed out. “So, I think my chances of her speaking English or any other human language is high.”

“So you think,” Logan muttered under his breath.

Oscar glanced down when he felt a nudge against his foot, smiling when he felt Rufus nudge him. “I wonder if she can speak to fish.” 

“Hm?”

“Like, imagine how cool it would be to be able to talk to different sea animals,” Oscar commented as he leaned down, his smile widening when the dolphin lifted his head up to meet Oscar’s hand.

“Well, your girlfriend is the dolphin whisperer,” Logan teased, nudging the other boy’s side with his elbow. “She could maybe teach you something, help you practise your fish language before you find your knight in scaly armour.” 

Oscar could feel his cheeks burn. “She’s not my girlfriend.” 

“But you wish she was,” Logan sang. 

“Plus, some people just have a special knack with animals,” Oscar shrugged, watching as Rufus continued to nudge his foot to gain his attention. “She’s one of them.” 

“A shame she can’t swim with them,” Logan muttered.

“Oh my god, get off her back with that,” Oscar groaned. 

“I am just saying—” 

“Stop saying it.” 

“—it’s a little weird that—”

“You’re a little weird.”

“—she was so dodgy about her swimming and then ran off—”

“You are reading far too much into it.” 

“—like she’s hiding something!” Logan exclaimed. 

“Who’s hiding something?” 

Both boys let out a scream, whipping their heads to find you standing a few feet away, looking far too amused at the expressions on their faces. You raised your brows, glancing between them and watching the way they both floundered for a response. 

“Were you talking about little old me?” You asked, a dramatic gasp following as you placed your hand over your heart. 

Oscar’s eyes widened. “No, we just—”

But before he could even come up with a half-assed, lame excuse to try and sell, a large splash of water hit the three of you. The water was cold and a shock to the system and the almost mocking laugh of Rufus as he swam away was the cherry on top. 

Oscar glanced down at the soggy sandwich in his hand before shifting his attention to you, noticing the way your eyes widened in panic. 

“Hey, you look a bit pale,” Oscar started but you were already starting to walk backwards. 

“I have to go!” You blurted out before turning on your heel and sprinting down the pier. 

“Wait!” Oscar frowned, ignoring the odd look Logan was giving him as he began to chase after you, watching you make a beeline towards the main building. 

He could feel his legs burning as he tried to catch up, as he chased you through the windy footpaths of the park, only to find himself at the main building with the door still locked and you nowhere in sight. 

He called out your name, his teeth starting to chatter a little as the water seeped into his clothes and hung heavy on his frame. 

But you were nowhere to be seen. 

…

“Do you think there is a way to find the human version of the mermaid?” 

Oscar barely lifted his head up from his phone, glancing down at the series of unread messages he had sent to you over the course of the last few days. Sebastian had said you called in sick, saying you needed a few days to recover from your cold without giving it to anyone. 

But Oscar wasn’t buying it.

“Because maybe we just need to look for the very obvious clues.”

Of course, there was the potential option that you really were sick. It was quite chilly the other day and Oscar’s mother always did say that wet clothes and chilly weather were never a good combination. It was why his first message was staged as a simple wish for you to get better, seeing if you would reply to him. 

You didn’t. 

“You know, like people well affiliated with fish. And maybe avoid water. And maybe have a suspicious background we don’t know about.” 

The following messages had been sent by accident. His thumb had been hovering over the second message when Buddy bumped into him and made his thumb hit the screen. And then, with the embarrassment already settled, he found himself sending a few more to follow up. 

But still, he hadn’t heard a single word from you. Nobody had. 

“It does make me wonder if your kids would come out as mermaids or fully human though.” 

Oscar blinked, head snapping up to stare at Logan with a bewildered look. “What?!” 

Logan huffed. “Have you not been listening to a word I’ve been saying?” 

“No, clearly not. Though, if you’re talking about how mermaids reproduce then I’m glad I zoned out,” Oscar deadpanned. 

“You should have a lot more interest considering your girlfriend is a mermaid,” Logan retorted. 

Oscar blinked. “Come again?” 

“Don’t tell me you don’t see the signs?” Logan prompted. 

Oscar shot him a look. “I don’t see the signs.” 

“God, love really is blind,” Logan sighed, shaking his head. “The signs are right in front of you, dude. She’s the one you’re looking for. Maybe. Potentially. It’s mostly a hunch.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Oscar scoffed. “I know her. I know her better than you. And I know that isn’t her.” 

“In denial your girlfriend is a fish?” Logan teased, nudging his foot against Oscar’s shin only to let out a wince when Oscar kicked him back. 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “I’m not in denial about anything!” 

“Who’s not in denial about anything?” 

Oscar’s head snapped around, his cheeks burning when he found Charles and Max standing at the door of the staff room, looking between the two younger boys with a questioning but amused look in their eyes. 

“Nothing!” Oscar flashed them a strained smile. “Truly nothing. We are talking about absolutely nothing.” 

Max raised his brows. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.” 

“Well—“ Oscar laughed, another half-assed lie ready to leave his lips but Logan bet him to it. 

“Oscar is just in denial about his lady fish!” Logan blinked, realising what he’s been saying. “I mean his friend who’s a fish! I mean, his lady friend who likes fish. She isn’t a fish. No one is a fish but fish!” 

Oscar shot him a look. 

“You know?” Logan laughed awkwardly. 

To his credit, Max looked positively delighted like their misery was great for his amusement. But Charles looked downright concerned, looking at Oscar with a solemn look as he walked around the table. He placed a hand on Oscar’s shoulder and gave him a small squeeze. 

“We will fight your fish fetish together,” he said in a completely serious voice. 

Logan choked. 

Oscar blanched. “I do not have a fish fetish!” 

“It’s fine, accepting it is the first step and we will get there together, yes?” Charles said with a kind smile. “You’re not alone, Oscar.” 

“I’m not there at all,” he retorted. 

“You have a support system here, Oscar,” Charles said. “We are your family too.”

Oscar groaned, his head slumping down to rest on the table. “Logan, I’m not going to kill you.”

“Logan is your friend and he just wants to help,” Charles continued, patting the boy on the back like he was trying to comfort him. 

It was safe to say he wasn’t focused on your lack of response to his messages after that. 

…

THE REVEAL 

It was actually totally by chance that it happened that morning.  

Just before his shift ended the day before, Sebastian had managed to catch him on his way out, ranting away about storms and stocking up and eventually ending his ramble by asking Oscar to come in early for his shift tomorrow to help deal with the morning feeds in case they have to shut down the park for the storm. 

He had agreed, assuring the older man he would be at the park before the sun had risen before he left. 

The next morning, he had been cursing his past self as he dragged himself out of bed and forwent his usual morning swim for a quick walk with Buddy before cycling towards the park. 

He was barely awake as he sauntered towards the staff room, putting his things away and just barely noticing your locker was already full before he made his way out towards the dolphins where he assumed you would’ve started. 

After all, Sebastian never said you two couldn’t work through the breakfast shift together. 

Oscar still felt a bit half asleep and bleary when he saw you at the bottom of the pier, talking away to Rufus and Gizmo. It made him smile, listening to whatever you were saying without even really processing it. 

In fact, it was because he was so entranced that he almost missed it at first. 

“Okay, one more but then you’ve gotta have your breakfast,” you sighed, shaking your head fondly at the two dolphins before lifting your hand. 

It took a second for Oscar to even realise there was a massive ball of water floating in front of you. It took a few more seconds to realise it turned to ice seconds later. And he was already rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself by the time you threw it into the water, letting the dolphins chase after it. 

He stood at the bottom of the dock, mouth agape and heart thundering in his chest that he missed whatever you said to the squeaking dolphin before you dove head first into the water. 

His body kicked into action by that point as he sprinted down the pier, yelling out your name and already trying to shrug off his coat so he could dive in after you, only to pause when he saw something in the water. 

Not something—you. 

It felt like deja vu as he stared at you under the water’s surface, stuck between confusion and awe. It was still dark but somehow the scales of your tail still glimmered in the water, dancing and shining and downright mesmerising. It was orange and gold and yellow and just breath-taking to see when he wasn’t losing oxygen. He watched your hair flow behind you as you swam effortlessly beside the dolphins like you belonged, like you were meant to be in the water. 

It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. 

He had barely picked his jaw up off the floor by the time you rose to the surface again, your eyes widening as you saw him kneeling on the pier staring out at you. 

You gulped a little. “Oscar, it’s not what it seems—”

“It’s you,” he interrupted, though his voice was soft and awestruck. “You’re the mermaid. You’re the one that saved me.” 

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t need saving if you hadn’t been an idiot surfing when it wasn’t safe,” you retorted, almost defensive as you squirmed under his watchful gaze. 

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are so—”

“Scary?” You supplied. 

“Beautiful,” Oscar corrected with a small frown. 

“Oh,” was all you managed to say. 

His eyes drifted down once again, his eyes lingering on your tail and the way it swayed gently to keep you above the surface. It was long, much longer than he realised the last time he saw you. But it was there and it was real and it belonged to you and— 

It was overwhelming. 

And it was also deeply annoying that Logan was right. 

Oscar opened his mouth. “I have so many questions I want—”

“I’m sure you do and I will answer them but,” you flashed him a sheepish smile, though the defensive tone in your voice was still there. “Not now. Later. Promise.”

Oscar nodded, a little dumbly. “Come back to mine after work?” 

You nodded back, your smile a little strained. “Yeah, of course.” 

…

“Would you like some tea?” 

The wind howling and the rain pattering against the window from the storm managed to break some of the awkward silence as you sat in Oscar’s living room, picking at the skin around your nails and avoiding eye contact with him completely. 

“Uh yeah,” you nodded. “Tea would be nice.” 

Oscar nodded before shuffling towards the kitchen, grabbing two mugs and putting the kettle on before he glanced over his shoulder to peek out at you. 

He smiled a bit as he watched Buddy trot towards you, letting out a whine and knocking your hands away from each other and instead placed his head on your lap until you started scratching behind his ears instead. 

“He’s a bit of a clinger,” Oscar warned as he wandered back into the room, two cups of tea in his hands as he placed both on the coffee table before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. “If you give him too much attention, he will never let you leave.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “That doesn’t sound too bad.” 

“You’ll think twice when he starts chewing your shoes because he wants to go out in the morning,” Oscar retorted. 

You let out a soft laugh in response. 

He watched you for a few moments as you cooed at the dog in front of you. You had told him you’d make your way to his house, considering Oscar’s shift ended half an hour earlier than yours and he had only driven a bicycle into work. 

He had tried to be really casual and nonchalant about the whole thing, pretending like his mind wasn’t spinning all day since he saw you in the water. It got a lot worse when he got home, practically pacing the cabin and wearing a hole into the carpet as he kept glancing at the clock—so often that even Buddy started whining about it. 

And then, just minutes before the rain started, you were knocking on his door and walking into his house and—

He felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

He wondered if he was meant to be the one to drop it. 

“So, a mermaid, huh?” 

And maybe it was the shitty icebreaker or maybe it was the nerves catching up with you, but you couldn’t help but snort. 

“Really?” You teased, finally looking at him with something that felt oddly close to fondness. “That’s what you start with?” 

“I panicked,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “And…I don’t know how much you want to share.” 

“Most people would be demanding answers,” you told him, your voice a little defensive like you expected him to be the same. 

“I’m not most people,” he responded before pausing. “Wait, other people know?” 

“Well, no,” you confessed before shrugging. “I just assume people would demand answers. I sure as hell did.” 

Oscar’s brows furrowed together. “You haven’t been a mermaid your whole life?”

“Since I was sixteen,” you told him, shaking your head. “It’s a long story. Full moons, sea caves and a very confusing attempt at a shower the next day.” 

His lips twitched upwards. “And you’ve hidden it this long?” 

You nodded. 

“That must be exhausting,” he murmured, his chest tightening a little at the idea that you had been carrying this secret alone for years. 

“I’m used to it by now,” you answered honestly with a shrug. “Plus, technically speaking, other people don’t know but other creatures do.” 

Oscar blinked. “You can actually speak fish?” 

You shot him an odd look. “Well, it’s not really a universal language amongst all fish but I can communicate with them.” 

“And control water,” Oscar blurted out, remembering what he saw that morning. 

You smiled softly. “Being a mermaid has its perks.” 

“The park is a risky place to work,” Oscar commented with a frown. “Aren’t you scared of constantly being exposed?”

“Like the other day?” You huffed, shaking your head. “I’m usually quite safe and I’m careful. Rufus was just being a dick.” 

“He…knows?” Oscar said slowly, like his brain was still catching up with the fact you could speak to marine animals. 

“He’s very demanding during our morning swims,” you admitted with a soft smile. “He also has very strong opinions and can be quite pushy with them.” 

Oscar raised his brows. “And what was he getting pushy with this time?” 

You fell silent, your attention quickly falling back to Buddy. 

He frowned a little. “I won’t judge, whatever it is. Unless it’s like a mermaid-slash-fish insider thing I wouldn’t understand, then I totally get it but—”

“It’s whatever,” you quickly interrupted, your smile seeming a little more put on and strained. “It’s not true, anyways.” 

Oscar’s frown deepened but he didn’t say anything as he nodded. It was only in the moments of silence that he realised how heavy the rain had gotten, with the drops sounding like harsh patters against his window. 

“Fuck,” you murmured with a frown. “It’s going to be impossible to get home.” 

“Home as in…a house or a sea cave or…?” Oscar started to trail off, having the decency to look a little embarrassed when you shot him a look. 

“I have a place on land,” you confirmed, though he could hear the amusement in your voice. “Although considering the fact I have seconds before I change, I won’t even be able to make it out your front door before I grow a tail.” 

“You can stay here,” he blurted out before he could second guess himself. “If you want to. I don’t mind. Neither does Buddy.” 

As if on cue, Buddy let out a soft bark of agreement as he nuzzled his head against your lap. 

You looked at him. “Are you sure? Because I—”

“I’m sure,” Oscar confirmed with a nod. “You can take the bed, I don’t mind taking the couch. Although, you may have to deal with Buddy trying to cuddle with you.” 

Your eyes widened slightly. “Oscar, I can’t kick you off your own bed.” 

“I don’t mind,” he repeated with a shrug. “Plus, the couch can be tricky to get comfy on if you don’t know the exact way to sleep and I’m used to—”

“I’m not letting you sleep on this couch,” you said, pausing for a moment before sheepishly smiling. “No offence.” 

His lips twitched. “None taken.” 

“We can—” You paused again before straightening up in your seat. “We can share the bed. It’s just one night, no?” 

Oscar blinked. 

“Friends can share beds, right?” You added, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Uh, yeah,” Oscar blurted out. “Yeah, totally. Absolutely. We can so do that. No problem at all.” 

He was fucked. 

…

All things considered, Oscar thought he was doing pretty well until the two of you actually had to fall asleep. 

He gave you some spare clothes to borrow and took the gentleman’s route of letting you use the bathroom first. He let you choose your side of the bed and borrowed some of the throw pillows from the living room to act as a barrier to make you a little more comfortable. He had even made sure Buddy was squished on his side of the bed so he wouldn’t disturb you. 

But then, the silence settled between you both after he had turned the lights off and climbed into bed and not even the pattering rain could ease the suffocating tension. 

“Logan knows,” Oscar blurted out. 

You blinked, turning your head as though you could see him in the dark. “What?!” There was a pause. “You told him?” 

“What? No!” Oscar quickly corrected. “No, of course not. He guessed it. Kinda. He was, like, forty-seven percent sure you were a mermaid.” 

You frowned. “And the other fifty-three percent?” 

“That,” Oscar snorted a little. “Was him being confident that mermaids didn’t exist at all and I hit my head during the accident.”

“You almost did,” you confessed. 

Oscar swallowed before turning his head to look in the direction of where you were lying. “Thank you,” he whispered in a softer voice. “For saving me. You really did save my life and you didn’t have to.” 

There was a small pause before Oscar felt you reach over the wall of pillows to take his hand. “I would’ve never left you hanging, Osc. You’re my friend.” 

He squeezed your hand a little. “Right, friend. Of course.”

Another moment of silence passed between you two. 

“You know I would never tell anyone your secret, right?” Oscar whispered, something about the moment feeling soft and quiet. “Even with Logan. I’ll throw him off your tail, stop him from bothering you.” 

A laugh slipped out. “Off my tail?” 

His cheeks burned but he smiled. “The pun was unintentional.” 

You hummed before responding. “You’d actually do that?” 

“Of course,” Oscar confirmed, genuine and sincere. “You’re my friend.” 

“Right, friend. Of course,” you repeated when nothing else came to mind. 

And once again, the silence settled between you but it was thick and suffocating and desperate to be cut and—

“Rufus wanted me to be honest with you,” you blurted out, squeezing his hand a little like it was the small sign of comfort you needed. “That’s what he’s been bugging me about. Gizmo too, actually.” 

Oscar frowned a little. “About telling me you’re a mermaid?” 

“No. Yes. Kinda.” You took a deep breath. “They wanted me to be honest with how I feel.” 

“I didn’t realise they were licensed therapists,” Oscar commented.

Your lips twitched. “They are delusional like that.” 

“Whatever you wanna say, m’not gonna judge you,” Oscar murmured, squeezing your hand to solidify his point. 

“I like you,” you whispered. 

“Yeah, I like you too,” Oscar replied casually. “And nothing you say can freak me out. I promise.” 

“No, Oscar, I like you. Like like.” 

“Oh.” 

“Fuck, sorry,” you swore under your breath as you moved to pull your hand away. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position—”

“No, I just—” Oscar let out a huff. “Wait a second.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you listened to him shuffling around on his side of the bed. It took a few seconds before you realised what he was doing, throwing the pillow wall on the floor and reaching for the lamp on his bedside table before he turned to you. 

“Better,” he murmured before reaching for your hand again. “You mean it? You like me?” 

“Are you really gonna make me say it again?” You winced a little. 

“I mean, it would help me redeem my response beyond a pathetic ‘oh’,” Oscar confessed, his cheeks flushing pink as he bit back a smile. 

You watched his expression closely. “And what would your response be this time?”

He swallowed harshly, gaining what little confidence he had left in himself before he chickened out and second-guessed himself. “I would say I have been pretty much in love with you since the day you accidentally trapped me in that huge fishing net and had to cut me out with a shitty pair of craft scissors.” 

Your brows furrowed together. “But that was our second day working together—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Oscar repeated with a grin. His eyes dropped to your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes, squeezing your hand as we spoke. “I like like you too.” 

“Even if I’m half fish?” You asked, watching as Oscar’s expression grew adoring. 

“Even if you told me I had to live on a dinghy for the rest of my life to be with you,” Oscar confessed. 

“That,” you paused as you laughed a little. “That might be one of the weirdest but most romantic things someone has ever said to me.” 

“You should see me flirting after a few drinks,” he deadpanned, not bothering to hide his smile as you rolled your eyes fondly.

“Just kiss me, Piastri,” you murmured.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he nodded before slipping his free hand to cup your face before leaning down to kiss you.

You let out a happy sigh, pulling your hand free so you could wrap both arms around his neck and tug him closer. Oscar rolled closer, keeping his weight off you as he deepened the kiss and smiled a little at the satisfied noise you let out. 

It was soft and sweet and adoring and made your whole body feel like it was on cloud nine by the time he pulled away, strands of hair falling in his eyes and a gentle expression pained across his face.

“We should probably sleep,” Oscar murmured.

“Yeah, we probably should,” you nodded in agreement.

“Glad you agree,” he hummed.

“Totally,” you responded.

Neither one of you could bite back your smiles as you leaned in for another kiss. 

…

THE AFTERMATH 

“This is cheating.” 

“How is it cheating?” 

“Okay, maybe it isn’t cheating but it is unfair.” 

You snorted, shaking your head in amusement as you lightly flicked your tail to splash the boy sitting on his surfboard. He let out a small noise of annoyance but he was still smiling, looking down at the seashell in his hand with utter love and adoration. 

“My gift seems lame in comparison now,” Oscar grumbled as his thumb smoothed over the ridges of the shell. 

“That’s a bit dramatic,” you retorted, leaning on your crossed arms as you leaned on the edge of his board. 

“Yeah, well, I bought your gift and you literally dived to the depths of the ocean for mine,” he replied but he still held the shell with a great sense of protectiveness, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Thank you, babe. I love it.” 

“Thought it would look cute for your collection,” you grinned back, sighing happily at the ease and relaxation written across his face. It had been an intense few weeks at work and this was the first mutual day off the two of you had. You almost forgot how much you loved seeing Oscar so laid back and stress-free. 

“It’ll be the best one in my collection,” he grinned, staring down at the shell for another few seconds before reaching for the small zipped pocket in his wetsuit. “Okay, close your eyes.” 

You rolled your eyes but did as you were told, holding your hands out as you listened to the sound of the zip. You waited a few moments before you felt cold metal hit your palm and tried to bite back your smile.

“I know the mermaid magic has a whole mind of its own but I thought maybe this would be one thing you can wear both on land and in the water,” Oscar confessed, and you could hear the hint of nerves in his voice. “Something from me, so I can be there with you when you are deep in the ocean getting me cool shells.” 

You snorted a little, but the amusement was quickly replaced by awe and surprise once you opened your eyes and spotted the silver locket in your palm. Your thumb traced over the necklace, smiling a little when you noticed the gem was the same shade of blue as his favourite board—the same one he was currently sitting on—and Buddy’s eyes.

“Oscar,” you whispered when no other words seemed to leave your lips. 

“Open it,” he prompted. 

You gently clicked the locket open, your smile widening when you noticed a picture tucked into the frame. Staring back at you was one of your favourite photos of you, Oscar and Buddy on the beach that a passing local had taken for the three of you when you were out one morning for Buddy’s morning walk. It had been one of your and Oscar’s favourite photos, considering it was currently framed and sitting on his bedside table and another print tucked into his locker at work. 

You looked up at him, your chest feeling so warm and tight and full with all the love you had for the boy. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Perfect for you then,” he murmured with a grin before nodding his head. “Turn around, let me put it on for you.” 

You listened easily, moving your hair over your shoulder as the boy reached around to place the necklace on before clasping it together. Your fingertips brushed over the locket as you glanced down at it before turning to look at him. He was already staring back at you, his expression soft and fond and so full of love that it almost made you wonder how it took you so long to confess your feelings when he had been staring at you like that long before you started dating.

“I love you,” you murmured, your heart warming at the sight of his cheeks blushing at the same three words you have said countless times to the boy.

“I love you too,” he replied easily before leaning down to kiss you. “Happy one year anniversary, baby.” 

“Happy one year, Osc.” 

,

[my-names-angel-but-im-not-one]

Soulmates

Pairing: satosugu x reader.

Tw warning: obsessive behaviour, kind of dark, possesive Satoru. And just Satoru(he's a warning himself). No proof read, I'll do it later okay.

He used to hate it. The mark. Satoru used to hate it. The small moon mark of his soulmate, of you , because it was just below his mark.

The mark of suguru. His first soulmate, that he killed , and watched as suguru's body slowly became lifeless , Satoru's eyes watering but he refused to cry. He held him close , his lover , his bestfriend , the only one who saw him as satoru and not as strongest, slowly suguru's mark on Satoru's wrist started to wither away and then gone completely, before the weight of this could crash on him another mark formed below suguru's fading one.

He furrowed his brows, what was this?.......was the universe playing with him? Were they playing a cruel joke on him? Laughing down at strongest, by giving him another soulmate right after he killed his first one? He hated this mark , this moon mark. It was mocking him , laughing at his misery of loosing his soulmate and giving him another one.

He hate this, he hate everything, he hate himself for killing the only man he loved and for what? Humans? Oh how he so was gonna kill you, the one who's his second soulmate. Second. You think you can replace suguru?! He'll show you and the universe itself how devoted he is to suguru.

But he couldn't.

When he first saw you, shying a bit, in a meek voice asking him sweetly "um are you my soulmate?" As you shy away a bit. Maybe because he's beautiful, or maybe that's just your personality. But the thought of killing you never crossed him again after your encounter with him.

But what broke his heart when you showed him , his mark on you. Right bellow your collar bone. A white fish. Koi fish. His heart broke, because it's same as him, same mark of him that suguru had.

He never thought he'd love anyone else, not after suguru, he thought he'd be too depressed too unaware of everything, but you were an unexpected twist in his life. He thought of you more as a possession than a person. But can you blame him though? He's soo paranoid that you'll die too. And to make it worse? You're a non sorcerer.

You were practically born to be kept locked , to be safe and isolated. He couldn't save suguru, a special grade so he know he needs extra precautions to keep you safe. He can't let you know the world he live in , he can't let you know he's abnormal. And most importantly? He can't let you know you're second one and you'll always be.

You had your suspicions about him , he said he's a teacher, but only have a handful student, when you asked to visit his place he refuse. Lashed out even, you were scared, he's a man at the end, stronger than you , but he apologized, begged even. He so sweet ofcourse you'd forgive him , he's just a big baby to you. But then it grew, the suspicions, he used to stare at things as in off space and when you look where he's looking, there's nothing. You asked him "what is it? Is there's something?" He just shook his head and mumbled "spaced out".

You thought you were being paranoid, but he was just getting creepier and creepier , one night you woke up in the middle of your sleep, he was there , standing by your bedside , blue eyes shining in a pretty way? No. Scary. For the first time you thought he was scary.

"Satoru....? What are you doing in my house??"

".....I was missing you"

"but we just had lunch together in the morning?"

"Yeah......but i-..... I love you"

"I know, ......I love you more"

You said sighing a bit, sure he's kind of creepy but you're blind, blinded by his beauty, cute behaviour and the little tears that prick his eyes as he stands there. You can't understand him. But that's just live isn't it? You don't need to understand him to love him.

"Come here" you said patting the empty space next to you. He climbed in fast. You pecked his forehead and spooned him letting him cuddle not asking anymore questions but one.

"Wait...how did you get in here? I don't have a spare key."

"Uh....I kind of broke the window?"

"SATORU!"

It was fine for few months, amazing even. You don't mind him being possesive or obsessive as long as you have your freedom , infact it's all cute even. But then you had an accident, minor one, your knees and palm scrapped you told him, mostly in a joking way, but he was done , done with this all.

Next day you woke up chained , ankle in binds that connected to the wall , and it don't look new, it look like it was planned , you panicked a bit thinking you're kidnapped but then he walked in with food

"Satoru?"

You whispered almost confused, he just smiled. This was different, his smile wasn't adorable like you once thought, it wasn't the one that he gave on your lame jokes, it looks guilty, apologetic even.

"I'm sorry"

He said and you knew, it's his doing, you're smart. Naive? Maybe as you ignore all the signs, but smart enough to know it's all planned, planned for longer than you think.

"Why?"

You asked sitting on the bed, but something told you , you knew the answer.

"I can't loose you. After the accide-"

"It's nothing! I just scrapped my knee-"

"You never know! What if next time it's worse! What if you....you..."

He couldn't get the world's out, tears seeping through his sunglasses, that you never asked why he wore.

"come here"

Seems like this is the only thing you'd be saying from now one.

Things didn't changed but you did. He removed chains but kept you inside the house, you were fine with it. Sometimes questioning your sanity as to why are you fine with it , but you were. He bought everything you'd want. And you started something work from home. He was tamed, as long as you were inside the house, the moment you guys were out for a movie or anything, he was like a rabid dog. Feral even. So you preferred staying indoor. 'Good for me' you often thought, atleast you don't have to socialize.

He loves you so much. And you know that, you know if you scream he'll come running. And so he did. When you're scream came from the bathroom.

You rubbed your collarbone, trying to remove whatever it was , before Satoru can come in the bathroom from your scream, but you forgot he's fast. He busted through the door.

"What?! What happened?!"

He asked eyes panicked as if searching for danger but it was just you bent over a bit, to look in the mirror, you were rubbing, your collarbone??

"I didn't do anything! I don't what this is! I swear! I don't know I don't know"

you were panicking, he took long strides towards you

"hey hey it's alright I'm here I'm here, it's alright okay? Show me what it is , I'll fix it"

he said rubbing you arms. You nodded Removing your hands. Satoru's eyes widened, in shock? Surprise? No, it was horror. A mark had form below his soulmate mark. He hurriedly rolled up his sleeves and yes there it was. The same one. Your panicked face confronts into confusion "what is...." You don't know what to say, he put his wrist near you collarbone and yes it was same.

The black koi fish mark. On both of you. Suguru's mark

A/N: I took soooooooo long I know. I don't have motivation to write. Also if there's any grammatical mistakes do let me know, I don't have the energy to proof read I'll do it laterrrrrrr, love ya guys :)

[coichii]

CLOCK OUT ✭

—(🎧)— chan was always so busy, working hard at creating music. you knew this and respected it, but you’d never thought it would make you his #2 when you were always #1

pairing - bf!bangchan ♥︎ fem!reader

genre: angst & comfort

word count: 1.4k

warnings: lots of swearing, arguing, and yelling. Crying & self deprecating thoughts.

You sigh as you read the clock. 9pm He was supposed to be here an hour ago. You feel the tears well up in your eyes as you throw your phone back on your bed. “Great. I got all dressed up for what.”

You and Chan were supposed to go on a date tonight, it’s his birthday after all. He was supposed to be at your shared apartment by 7pm to pick you up, but he never showed. You were starting to lose hope in him coming at all.

That’s when an idea came to your head. Usually when Chan got like this, he was really stressed. You wanted to help him in any way you could, so next thing you knew, you were heading out the door and driving towards his office.

◂—♥︎—▸

It took alottt of convincing from security before you were let in. It got to the point where a security guard you were familiar with had to vouch for you in order for you to be let in. You knew it was for security reasons, but jeez that took more time than you thought.

You quickly made your way to chans studio, stomach bubbling with nerves. You’ve never done this before, so you didn’t know exactly how he would react. Would he get happy I was there? Would he get angry? You didn’t know, and the uncertainty was slowly killing you.

“Well, no point in turning back now.” You mumble to yourself as you turn the knob of chans room and step in.

Immediately, you’re met with the sound of a track you’ve never heard before bouncing off the walls of the studio. The room is dimly lit, proving a relaxing atmosphere for whoever is in there.

After you get used to the room, your eyes immediately spot your boyfriend, who was not as relaxed.

His shoulders were tense, back slouched down as he rubbed circles into his temples. The scene had your heart thumping with hurt. All you wanted to do was make your boyfriend happy on his special day, and seeing him like this had your eyes watering.

“Channie baby?” You asked gently. No response. “Chan. Are you okay?” You ask softly, moving closer to him. You visibly see him stiffen, his lips pressing in a thin line. “Chan. Please, I’m here to he-“

“Damn it y/n! Can’t you be quiet for a few seconds! For fucks sake, can you not tell I’m busy!” He booms. He’s so loud your almost certain the sound proofed padding did little to nothing holding it in. “Why are you here. Can you leave me alone for once so I can finish this damn song!”

“The date Christopher.” You coldly stated, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes at any moment. “You were supposed to come home at 7pm. Seven! It is 9:30. You have no fucking excuse to yell at me.”

He scoffs at your defense, obviously not paying any mind to your feelings. “The date can wait y/n. I’m busy.” He said simply, voice calming as it it were no big deal. You weren’t calming down on the other hand. Your mind was blinded with rage, everything feeling red and hot with anger, but also embarrassment. A lot of embarrassment.

“Ok. Hope you feel the same way when you get home and you leave me the fuck alone.” You smiled bitterly, turning around and walking out of his studio, slamming the door with a ‘bang!’ Tears were streaming evenly down your cheeks at this point as you stomped throughout the hallways, covering your face in embarrassment as you walked past a very confused security staff out the door.

When you got to your car, all the emotions you somewhat tamed back began to flow, face crumbling with tears once again as you slammed your face into the steering wheel.

He had never yelled at you like this before. Sure he got frustrated before, but nothing like this. He was always incredibly patient with you and watched his mouth when his emotions were high. He’d never reacted like this before, it’s not like him.

So saying seeing the way he got so angry, the way his wire snapped and his voice got loud scared the shit out of you would be an understatement. You were scared you fucked up.

After composing yourself, which took roughly 15 whole minutes of sobbing, you were able to take a hold of the steering wheel and drive home. Your emotions were high the entire time, sniffle echoing throughout the car as you drove through the empty streets.

Unbeknownst to you, he was already feeling the guilt of what he had done.

◂—♥︎—▸

You trudged your way through the door, practically throwing your purse down on the floor as you make your way to your bedroom. You lazily change your clothes from the beautiful red dress you were wearing to a small spaghetti strap tank top and shorts. Not bothering to take a shower, you throw yourself on your bed and cover yourself with the warm sheets.

You know it be just a little petty to mute chans notifications, but you know how he gets whenever he gets even the slightest bit mad at you. Guilty. And after what he just did to you, you knew he would be extra guilty and practically spam your phone, and you were in the mood to sleep right about now.

So you quickly put your phone on do not disturb and shut it down, laying it on your night stand and closing your eyes. Hopefully, a little bit of sleep would help the pain go away.

◂—♥︎—▸

You’re awoken by the feeling of your arm being shaked rather roughly, quickly looking over to be face to face with Chan. You jump a bit, caught off guard before relaxing slightly.

You study his expression, a look of guilt and desperation evident in his eyes. He looked as if he’d been running, small beads of sweat causing his hair to stick to his face. “Had he ran into the apartment? Did he do that for me?”

“B- baby I’m so fucking sorry. I d-didn’t mean to. I swear t-to god I didn’t mean it. I was to stressed to r-realize what I saying. I’m so s-sorry y/n. P-please don’t leave me.” He practically pleaded, holding on to you as if you could slip right through his fingers at any moment.

“Woah woah Chan. I’m not going to leave you. I’m just hurt that’s all. I doubt it was even your fault. I shouldn’t have pushed that hard, I’m sor-“

“No.” He said sternly .Don’t apologize for something that is completely not your fault. I’m sorry y/n. I’m so sorry. You went to check on me when I missed our date. All I could do is yell at you and tell you it was no big deal. It was my fault. Don’t apologize for being compassionate and caring. Especially when it comes up as if I don’t.”

The look on his face had your heart shattering in to tiny pieces. Vulnerability, compassion, fear. It was all visible in his expression and it had you crumbling.

You feel yourself fall apart at his confession, tears free flowing once again from your red eyes as you plant your face into his chest.

“Y-you really hurt me you know? I was r-really fucking scared. I thought you were going to l-leave me.” You sobbed, letting everything go. He grabbed you, an attempt at keeping you grounded as you bawl.

“I know baby. I k-know. Let it out. I’m so so sorry. I would never leave you. Especially over something that was completely my fault. I’m so sorry I scared you love. I would never ever do that on purpose. ever. Please let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything and everything to keep you with me.”

You feel the sincerity in his voice. You know he’s being absolutely honest with his promise. So you you’re not surprised when you find yourself intertwining your pointer finger with his, a sign you’re about to make a promise.

“Promise?” You ask, voice cracking slightly. “I promise. I promise on everything I won’t do this again. I promise to better my self for you and make it up to you.” He’s sincere. You can tell. You know when he lies. “Ok. I trust you.”

Your voice goes quiet as you lay your head deeper into his chest, his comforting arms wrapping around your waist.

You know it’s going to be a while before everything comes back to normal, but you knew this was going to be a step in the right direction.

And he knew that for as long as he lived, he would never let this happen again.

back to masterlist

—

[luvyeni]

SOMEONE FLIRTS WITH YOU 𖹭 엔하이픈 ( reaction ) !

genre yandere 𖹭 warning — murder , mentions of blood, kidnapping , jays bar is complicit to so many murders parings enhypen hyung line x fem reader | back to library .

— what they do when someone flirts with you.

request: could u do enhypen legal line yandere reaction to another guy sexually flirting with u?

「 authors note 𖹭 」 i hope you like it !

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

he's gonna kill them, but he wants to see them suffer first , he kidnaps them; hides them in a warehouse he uses to kill , that can't be traced back to him either. he withholds food from the guy , then water slowly killing them , but not all he does , he also beats them. all while the person is begging to be freed , or killed after a few days of torture , to which he just smiled and continues his beatings. heeseung may even go as far as to free them from their restraints, letting them go and when they go running towards the exit , he fires his gun , one shot to the persons head and down they go.

next is to get rid of the body and quickly, so he can quickly get home to you.

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

jay owned the club where the creep harassed you, he saw it go down , so no one bats an eye when his men drag the man away from you , and all the way back to jays office , his office with the sound proof walls. the guy begging that he was sorry and he didn't even know you were taken. "pl-please i'm sorry i didn't know she had a boyfriend , I was drunk." jay rolled his eyes watching him lie. "does it matter if we weren't together? you still harassed a lady in my bar , this time it was my last you harassed." he said. "see any decent guy would've probably knocked you cold on to the ground , unfortunately you got me." he said. "and i'm not as decent." he gave them the words , before his men proceeded to beat the guy to death.

"someone go get my baby girl , clean this mess up when you're done."

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

jake is emotionally unstable when it comes to you , so when he sees someone flirting with you , he goes into a blind rage , he doesn't remember following the guy into the bathroom of jays bar , all he remembers is tearfully bashing the guy's head in between the stall door , sobbing, not because he's upset at what he's doing but because he fully believes you're gonna leave him for this guy , that's why he has to kill him so he can't take you from him. "she's mine." he cries , blood is everywhere , jay is gonna be pissed at him for making such a mess , this one is gonna be hard to clean up , but he can't help it.

"she's mine and you're not gonna take her from me."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

kills them , sunghoon doesn't even wait , making sure no one sees him , it's jays bar so he knows there's no cameras , he follows the guy into the alley, hitting the bastard harassed you on the head with a bottle , pulling out a knife to cut his throat before the guy could even yell out for help , walking back into the bar , looking for you. "let's go." he grabbed your arm. "let's fucking go now." he drags you out the bar , he's not pissed at you for once but you don't know that and he doesn't want to let you know that.

"i handled it , but you won't be going out for a while , i'm not mad at you."

©LUVYENI

[l13]

part two here

cw: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI!!!! f!reader, peter is married and having thoughts of reader soo cheating? voyeurism, masturbation, peter getting off to you and miguel fucking:), not proofread

perv!peter b parker who comes in Miguel's control room (or whatever the fuck) ready to annoy the fuck out of him, when he’s suddenly very glad he didn’t bring his daughter with him as the obscene sounds from up above reach his ears.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, mi vida. Look at you, dripping down my cock. Couldn’t even wait till I was finished hm?” if that wasn’t proof enough for what you guys were doing, then the sloppy sound of Miguel fucking his cock in your pussy gave it all away.

Peter felt as if someone threw cold water down his back, and he searches his brain for answers- something to justify the outline of his now hard cock in his pants. You were attractive, he wasn’t blind, but weirdly enough he’d never thought about you that way.

Until now, that is. Now, that he can hear your pretty moans and whimpers of Miguel’s name as you beg him to go faster, to fuck you deeper, to make you come.

Peter’s thankful that the floating platform is all the way up, and that he has no view of you, or else he’d never be able to get the picture of your body, of your face scrunched up in pleasure, out of his mind. It would ruin him.

In fact, Peter could see nothing except Miguel’s wide back, shoulders hunched over, no doubt holding your thighs up for easier access. Fuck, Peter could feel precum dripping down the tip of his cock, at the vile picture forming in his head.

He was so hard that it hurt, and he could feel the stinging of his eyes, tears gathering up fast. He wanted to touch himself so bad, but he couldn't. He shouldn’t.

“Hah- shit. What if someone came in here, bebita? hear you like this? See you like this? You'd like that, wouldn’t you? Ffuck you tightened up so much when I said that. Such a little slut for me. Say it.”

Peter turns around, ready to walk out the door. He shouldn’t be here, he wasn’t allowed to be here during this. He should go home. MJ was waiting for him to- Fuck, MJ. He has a wife. What the fuck was he doing? He-

“Yes! yes fuck, i want everyone to know that im a good slut for you!Ah-want them to see me like this pleasepleaseplease”

Peter clamps a hand over his mouth, and moans, letting himself fall against the wall, elbow propped up against the surface to keep him upright, and he bites his lip roughly, keeping his mouth shut just so that he could palm himself through his sweatpants.

God, fuck, he wanted to see you so badly. He wanted to be the one fucking you, to be the one pulling those sounds from you. Hell, he’d let you pull those sounds from him. he’d do anything - using you or being used by you. Peter couldn't decide which thought excited him more.

His last remaining morals were thrown out the window when you cried out, and he could hear you thrash around, Miguel muttering praises and encouraging words that fall deaf on peter’s ears. By that point, Peter had completely tuned out any sound Miguel made, choosing to focus on your pleas and cries.

Peter was full on jerking his cock now, sweatpants bunched up at his ankles, as he fucks the lame excuse of a hole his hand made, all the while imagining that it’s you. He was timing his thrusts to the sound of your broken moans, having to bite on his forearm to keep quiet as he whimpers and grunts, drool running down his chin.

Unbeknownst to Peter, the platform, slowly but surely, makes its way down to the floor. After all, even if Peter made sure he was being quiet, that was still loud as fuck to Miguel's ears, who had heard him the minute he stepped in the room.

2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[olgsecond]

I thought about this moments in the begining when Zoro does something cool and Luffy goes "Woah!". And I thought where are Zoro's reaction to Luffy doing something cool?

And it's actually pretty funny, because Zoro haven't seen Luffy doing anything cool untill much later.

When they just met, Luffy hit Helmeppo, Zoro was the one who striked down Morgan.

Then Buggy. Zoro was out sleeping when Luffy fought.

Kreyg, Zoro missed the whole thing.

Arlong. Zoro was bleeding behind the fence.

Zoro only witnessed Luffy being absolute idiot and getting in stupid situations. Like being carried away by a bird, being caged, doing shitty job as a waiter, getting himself stuck in concrete and then tossed into water. But not for a moment Zoro doubted that Luffy can and will beat up those big bad guys, believed in him and called him King of Pirates.

Like my man was down bad based on vibes alone. Roronoa 'I don't believe in god' Zoro, do you know how it's called when you believe in something wholeheartedly and devote yourself to it without needing any proof?

There's something about Zoro and fate and gods and how he and Luffy feel and understand each other on some other level. Can you see the intensity of Zoro's faith? But it's not blind, because Zoro KNOWS. Can you imagine knowing something like that? Just knowing? Because I'm going insane here.

[wordsarelife]

—tell me why

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

summary: you break up with mattheo after relentlessly trying to make your relationship work.

warnings: angst with a capital a guys

notes: this just sprawled out of me and onto the tumblr page. very spontanious post, hope you guys enjoy!!

the night you break up with mattheo riddle is a warm one in the middle of september.

his hair looks messy, ripped apart and rearranged from him running his hands through it while you spoke. the school uniform is hanging loosely on his body and he seems so much smaller under your gaze, so much more vulnerable.

you ask yourself if he always looked this broken and you were just too blind to see it, or if mattheo riddle changed completely in the span of minutes.

you have never seen him cry. ever. now he is breaking down and begging like his tears are the only thing that can water your relationship back to life.

but your relationship isn’t a dying flower. you aren’t naïve or poetic enough to ever think of it like that. maybe it makes it easier for mattheo if he does.

his hands are soft as they wander over your body. your skin burns under his touch. it feels familiar and foreign at the same time. as if his hands were made for touching, but just not for touching you.

as his hands wander up to cradle your cheeks you wonder if he even sees you the same way you see him. if he ever saw you like you were and not like he wanted you to be.

mattheo is everything but stupid, even if he doesn't always act like it. he's smart without being blindsided by his intelligence. he's cruel without thinking about consequences. and he's a coward who can't help but hurt you, even though he can't help but love you at the same time.

both things can be true, you think as your eyes flutter close and you let him kiss you. just for now. just for a last time.

you're not sure who you're owing this kiss. if it's him. if it's you. if it even matters who it's for.

his lips feel warm against yours. like a memory that slipped into the back of your mind without you noticing. maybe, because you can't remember the last time he kissed you just to kiss you. without gaining anything from it. not to end a fight or interrupt you speaking.

being with mattheo hadn’t always felt this way. there was a time when loving him was as natural as breathing—so effortless, so consuming, that you forgot how to do it on your own and waited for him to teach you.

now it feels like he's the water you are drowning in.

because nights filled with love had turned to evenings of fighting, his temper getting the better of him and his voice rising until it was the only sound you could hear.

you had never felt as small then when he was screaming at you.

you had always known that mattheo didn’t grow up the way you had. the house he had lived in was never more than a house, always less than a home. and his parents? merlin, you couldn't even imagine.

he had longed for your love so deeply, so desperately. like a child that had never tasted ice cream, but knew that it had to be good.

you had given him the love willingly, without any conditions, without withdrawing or holding back the one feeling he had waited to receive for so long.

but the difference between wanting to receive something and actually receiving it was like standing in the rain, arms outstretched, yet never feeling the drops sink in.

and it was neither yours nor his fault that it was like that. it just was.

you couldn't blame him, but you wouldn't just accept it either.

you had done that for such a long time that you had started doubting the feeling yourself. it felt like you needed a proof that it was still there. but love that needed proof wasn't actually love, right?

mattheo steps away from you, his warmth and the hint of a kiss still lingering on your lips.

"i know that i ruined it." he says and the words break through your skull and crawl into your head like a parasite taking over your body. "you probably hate me now." his voice is soft and there's a hint of a smile hidden in his words. you know him well enough to detect that he isn't actually joking, but testing the waters. he really wants to know if you do. if your love did not only slip beyond his reach, but turned to anger behind his back.

"i don't hate you." you tilt your head to the side unintentionally and look at him like you always used to. like he was a riddle you were trying to solve. ironic, really.

mattheo's hands dart over his face quickly, getting rid of the remains of tears. as if he doesn't want you to see them. "that actually makes it worse."

"mattheo" you try to reach for his arm, but he steps back. it shatters your heart to see the expression on his face. he looks like he understands you, like he would do the same thing if he was in your place.

you wonder if mattheo riddle loves you enough to let you go.

"you were the only good thing i ever had." he says suddenly. he waits for a second, pondering, before he opens his mouth again and continues. "and i ruined it. i ruin everything, don't i?" his voice breaks off and he hides his face behind his arm.

he almost looks eleven again.

you don't want to be cruel, not like he was cruel to you so many times before, but you don't want to lie to him either.

you speak after a beat of silence, your voice almost close to a whisper. "not everything." you admit. "not me, not you, just us."

"do you really think that's gonna comfort me?"

"no," you say honestly "because it's not supposed to comfort you, matty." he flinches at the nickname, but you ignore his reaction before you continue. "and i don't care about the things that are not perfect about you. i don't care about any of it. the only thing i do care about is that you always told me you wanted this, you wanted me—"

"because i did—" he interrupts, his voice rising to match yours. "because i do."

your gaze flickers and for a short unwilling second you look at him in a way you never wanted.

his face falls and he shrinks under your gaze. it's an instant trigger. he knows the look on your face, like he knows every single birthmark on his body. he counted them when he was seven. every single hint his mother had left on his body. everything that belonged to her and had marked itself on his skin the day he was born.

just like the look on your face it was something he'll always connect with bellatrix.

"i'm sorry." you quickly say, catching yourself.

mattheo's face hardens. "tell me the truth." he urges. "i can take it."

he must've stood before his mother just like this when she would come to punish him with her wand. he must've told her the exact same words back then too.

you keep quiet.

"do you hate me?" mattheo repeats his question from earlier. you were sure that he had believed you. seemingly not.

"the problem isn't what i'm feeling"

mattheo lets a dry laugh escape his lips, like he can't believe what he's hearing. "then what is it about?" he huffs, almost as if he isn't at all interested in hearing your answer. but his eyes are telling a different story.

you hesitate for a second, before you sigh, your voice as soft as his hands on your body as you start speaking: "i don't hate you mattheo." you state. "but you do."

mattheo gulps. you just hit a sore spot and he's too surprised about what you just said to hide it.

"you wanted to be loved by me, you wanted to love me," you explain softly. "but that's not how it works. wanting something to be real doesn't automatically make it real." you whisper softly. "you wanted it all so badly, but you hated yourself too much to ever allow it, to ever let the feeling linger, to ever truly understand it."

"i just—" he doesn't know what to say. he's so overwhelmed. he tries to bite back the tears. "i didn't think i deserve it, deserve you."

"love isn't something you deserve or don't deserve."

mattheo frowns.

"it's not so simple." you shrug, "it's not so complicated."

both things can be true.

"then what is it?" mattheo urges. "tell me and i will fix it. i will make it better. i can learn how to."

the plea in his voice breaks your heart. you have never seen him this emotional about anything before. not even when he would recount the horrors of his childhood back to you.

"i'm sorry, matty." you turn to leave the room, but your hand lingers on the door. "you know it matters to me, right?"

he looks up at you with surprise, like he had expected you to be far gone the next time his gaze would rise from the ground. he simply shrugs as an answer to your question. your face softens.

"that's the beautiful thing about love." you say. this time you do want to comfort him. mattheo perks up, ready to receive anything you still want to give. "it's stupid, it's illogical, it's haunting and it hurts, oh god, how much it hurts."

you pause for just a second and then: "but it's there even if you don't want it to be. it comes without precautions and stays without conditions. it's real even if it's one sided." you voice drops softly and mattheo gulps at the obvious hint in your words. "but it's warm and golden and besides all it's eternal."

mattheo's gaze lingers as you open the door.

"you will always have someone in me who loves you, matty." you say, almost like you're promising him. "even if you won't let me. it doesn't make a difference, because it doesn't make it any less real, any less warm or eternal."

"y/n" your name escapes his lips like a last plea, but the sound of his voice reveals that he knows it's over, just as much as you do.

"you can leave it and ignore it for the rest of your life." you say finally. "or you can take it and accept it. either way it's gonna be there and it's gonna wait as long as it has to. it's not going anywhere."

the night you break up with mattheo riddle is a warm one in the middle of september. the night you stop loving him never arrives.

[steveseddie]

gold was the color of the leaves

steddie | rating: t | wc: 1,6k | cw: none | tags: steve pov, silly teenage boys, first kiss, fluff

for @steddie-spooktober day twenty two prompt “leaves”

read here on ao3

Steve wakes up when a leaf tickles his nose– or rather, when someone tickles his nose with a leaf. He scrunches it up, swatting the leaf away with his hand. 

He easily recognizes the snigger that follows so he’s not surprised to open his eyes and find Eddie leaning over him, one elbow propped up on the grass and a devilish grin stretching over his lips.  

Steve lifts his sunglasses to scowl at him. “Are you like, allergic to people relaxing?” He asks in a bitchy tone that only makes Eddie grin wider. 

“Deadly so, Stevie,” he says, long dark eyelashes fluttering as the hand that’s still holding the leaf rests against his forehead like he’s going to faint. “It was either annoying you or dying, and you don’t want me to die, do you?”

“I guess not,” Steve says with a long-suffering sigh, but either the fondness in his voice or the way his lips tick up prove that he doesn’t mean it because Eddie’s grin turns blinding, his dimples popping. Steve is glad he’s already lying down or his knees might’ve buckled at the sight and sent him rolling down the small hill they’re laying on.

“Besides,” Eddie says, tickling Steve’s cheek with the leaf, “you’re missing out on all the fun.”

“Napping is fun,” Steve points out, swatting Eddie’s hand away again. 

“Yeah, if you’re eighty!” Eddie snorts. “Are you an old man, Stevie?”

“Eddie, I’m younger than you,” Steve deadpans. 

“Maybe, but I have a young soul, Harrington–”

Steve smirks. “If by young you mean immature–”

Hand to his heart, Eddie gasps indignantly. “Hey!”

“Dude, you and the kids spent the last hour gathering leaves in piles and jumping on them,” Steve says amusedly. He spent the better part of that hour watching them tackle each other between shrieks of laughter, thankful for his sunglasses and how they let him stare at Eddie as much as he wanted without getting caught.

Eddie shrugs. “Hm, you may have a point.”

When he moves, something in Eddie’s hair catches Steve’s eye. A leaf– proof that he’d spent an hour being tackled and rolling on the floor before he decided to annoy him.

Steve’s fingers itch to reach out and pluck that leaf from Eddie’s hair, smooth the curls down, grab a hold of them and drag Eddie down–

Steve shakes those thoughts out of his head, balling his hands into fists to keep them from reaching out. In the silence that follows, Steve becomes aware of the sudden lack of yells and laughter around them. “Where are the little shitheads?”

“Wheeler sent them to wash their hands so they can have a snack,” Eddie says, pointing at the water fountain where the boys are cleaning up and at Max and El, walking arm in arm towards Nancy and Robin at the picnic table. 

“Not you?” Steve asks, head falling back against the blanket he’s using to lay on the grass. 

Eddie shakes his head. “Nope, I told her she’s not the boss of me,” he pauses, “then ran away before she could hit me with her book.” 

Steve snorts out a chuckle.

“Besides, I don’t want a snack. I got one right here,” Eddie says with a playful wink that turns Steve’s cheeks bright red. 

He ignores the heat creeping on his face. “I swear, Munson, if you try to bite me again–” he says, thinking about last week when Eddie said he was hungry and promptly sunk his teeth on Steve’s arm.

It didn’t hurt that bad– he was wearing a thick sweater after all. What did hurt was biting his tongue as hard as he could to keep a moan from slipping past his lips from Eddie biting him.

Eddie sniggers. “I won’t bite you, I promise,” he says innocently before he leers at Steve, his face hovering merely inches from Steve’s face. “Only if you ask.”

Steve grits his teeth together. “Shut up,” he quips, shoving Eddie off of him until they’re both lying on their backs, their sides pressed together. 

They fall into comfortable silence which Steve breaks with a loud yawn. 

Eddie’s head lolls to the side, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Tired, sweetheart?”

Steve’s stomach flips at the petname. He shrugs as casually as he can. “A little, I- uh, I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Nightmares?” Steve nods. Eddie grimaces apologetically, tugging some hair across his face. “Shit, I should’ve let you keep napping.”

Without giving it much thought, Steve curls his pinkie around Eddie’s. “No, it’s fine,” he says, waiting for Eddie to meet his gaze. When he does, his eyes are a little wide. Wistfully Steve wishes it’s because of their interlocked pinkies. “I don’t wanna miss out on all the fun just because I’m tired.”

Eddie's eyes sparkle and he props himself up on his elbow again, grinning at Steve. “Does that mean I can tackle you into a pile of leaves?”

“You forget I was a jock,” Steve says smugly. “I’d like to see you try.”

Eddie laughs, something between a snort and a giggle. He drops his head in Steve’s chest, making Steve’s heart stutter. 

From this angle, Steve spots another leaf trapped in the curls in the back of Eddie’s head, and this time he doesn’t stop himself from reaching for it. 

The moment Eddie feels Steve’s fingers in his hair, his head snaps up and Steve’s hand ends up cupping the back of Eddie’s neck. 

Their faces are close– so close that Steve can hear the way Eddie’s breath catches when he realizes the same thing.

“Eddie–” Steve starts, not sure if he’s going to apologize for touching his hair without permission or for the way his eyes keep darting down to Eddie’s lips in a way that he knows is fucking obvious. 

But before he can decide what to say, he hears Eddie make an impatient, needy noise in the back of his throat before he surges forward and presses his lips against Steve’s. 

He lets out a surprised yelp, thinking– holy shit, Eddie is kissing me!

The thought bounces against Steve’s skull like a ping-pong ball as he tries to get his brain working again. But before he can do that long enough to kiss Eddie back, he’s pulling away and out of Steve’s reach. Steve’s hand falls back to his side, empty except for the leaf that he plucked out of Eddie’s hair. 

“You uh– you had this in your hair,” Steve says dumbly, holding up the leaf. 

Eddie’s eyes dart to the leaf and his expression falls as he realizes that is why Steve’s hand ended up in his hair, not because Steve was making some kind of move.

“Shit,” he mutters, his doe-like gaze darting from the leaf to Steve’s mouth. That he just kissed. “Shit, fuck– I– shit.”

He scrambles to his feet, and in his haste, ends up stumbling and falling back on his ass– only to roll down the small hill. 

“Eddie!” 

Steve jumps to his feet and runs after him, careful not to trip and follow Eddie down the hill the same way.

He makes it to the bottom right after Eddie and his eyes dart over his starfished body, checking for injuries. 

“Christ, dude. Are you okay?”

Eddie groans, covering his face with his hands. “Did the fall kill me? Please say yes.”

Steve suppresses a snort. “I mean. It’s barely even a hill, so I don’t think that’s possible. You might end up with a bruise or two though.”

“Oh, you mean apart from the bruise to my ego?” 

“What?”

“You know,” Eddie gestures between himself and Steve with one hand, “because I kissed you and you didn’t want me to.” 

Steve puts his hands on his hips. “Who says I didn’t want you to?”

Eddie’s hands fall from his face, revealing his wide eyes and slack jaw. “You did?” He asks, voice going high-pitched.

“Yeah,” Steve says, a lopsided grin stretching over his lips. He knocks his Nike against Eddie’s leg. “I did, you just took me by surprise, s’all.”

Eddie lets out a tiny, startled, “Oh.”

Steve smirks. “Yeah so how about you get up so I can check you don’t have any cuts or bruises before I kiss you. Properly this time.”

Eddie squeaks and scrambles to his feet with as much grace as when he tumbled down the hill. Steve finds his eagerness fucking endearing. 

There are even more leaves trapped in Eddie’s curls now, and with an amused shake of his head, Steve plucks them out of his hair before checking for any bruises. 

Then, as promised, he leans in and kisses Eddie. The second kiss is also short and chaste and over too soon, but it’s good and Steve has to remind himself they’re in public in order to gather enough willpower to pull back. 

When he does, his brain is a little hazy and he completely misses the way Eddie’s expression shifts from dopey to mischievous so it catches him by surprise when Eddie tackles him into a pile of leaves, laughing maniacally. 

“Ha! Got ya!” Eddie whoops, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, hovering over Steve who wants nothing more than to kiss the stupid smug smile off his face. 

But he can hear the kids laughing at him and cheering for Eddie in the distance and there’s no way he can get away with kissing him even if Eddie’s hair falls like a curtain around them, offering a little cover.

So he grabs a handful of leaves and shoves them into Eddie’s grinning mouth instead.

He’ll save the kiss for later.

[a-shade-of-blue]

Hi everyone! I want to spotlight here a few palestinian gofundme campaigns with low funds. I've messaged and been in regular contact with all of them, and I appreciate any support you can give them.

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Mohammed & his 5 siblings (@ahmed0khalil)

Mohammed is only 19 years old, but the fate of his family's survival now rests on his shoulders as he fundraise to evacuate his family of 8 to safety. He has 5 siblings: Fathi (23), Aya (21), Anas (15), Abdullah (11) and Ahmed (6). Fathi is blind and suffering from coronary artery disease; eleven-year-old Abdullah is autistic and does not understand what is happening; and Ahmed is only 6 years old, a small child who had barely started kindergarten when this current genocide happened. Now, instead of asking questions about how the world works, Ahmed is asking his brother if they will survive, or if they will just become "a number that appears on the TV screen in the evening."

These children have witnessed no fewer than 6 massacres, they have seen people being blown to pieces, they have lost friends to the bombings, they have seen people bleeding to death around them while they couldn't even call the ambulance because there was no connection. Mohammed was once so seriously injured in a bombing that he couldn't walk, but had to lie bleeding on the ground for 2 hours before help came.

These are children who just want to survive. What little food there is in Gaza is very expensive, the water is polluted, and there are all kinds of infectious diseases, and that is on top of all the bombings they have to face. They are just children, please help them out.

This campaign has been shared by 90-ghost.

Only €2,057 raised of €50,000 target! (4.1% of target)

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Mahmoud's 17 family members (@mahmoufamilia)

Mahmoud has 17 family members trapped in Gaza right now, including no fewer than 5 children. The house his family was staying at was bombed while they were sleeping inside it, and Mahmoud almost lost his entire family that night. Several relatives were killed in that bombing, including a baby who were not even one month old yet. His other family members sustained serious injury from the bombing, and the family exhausted every means to get Mahmoud's sister Tasnim and her 6-month-old baby out of Gaza as they had the most severe injuries.

However, the rest of Mahmoud's 17 family members are still trapped in Gaza right now, including Tasnim's 2-year-old daughter, who suffered from first degree burns from the bombing. They have narrowly escaped death no fewer than 5 times now, and have woken up to dead bodies next to them when the IOF dropped bombs on the tent next to where they were staying.

Mahmoud’s campaign is vetted by association. Mahmoud is @hazempalestine's friend, see post here for proof. @hazempalestine is vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and is listed as #281 on the verified fundraiser list by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi.

Only $426 CAD raised of $80,000 target! (0.5% of target)

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Ahmed's 12 Family Members (@ahmedpalestine)

Ahmed is from Gaza but he is in Belgium right now. He has 12 family members (including 6 children!) trapped in Gaza and he is trying to evacuate them. His family was in Al-Mawasi when Israel dropped the 2000 pound bombs on tents housing displaced families, causing 20 tents to disintegrate, killing at least 40 people and injuring more than 60, and leaving craters at least 9-meters deep.

Ahmed could not contact with his family when he woke up to the news of the bombing, and I can't imagine how scared and worried he must have been, not knowing if his family had survived or not. He told me that he managed to get in touch with his family eventually, and that they are alive, they are alive. They originally moved to Al-Mawasi because Israel designated it as a 'safe zone', yet Israel still bombed the displaced families staying there. Where are they supposed to go now? There is no safe place in Gaza, and they have 6 children with them...

Ahmed's campaign has been promoted by Bilal-Salah0. Bilal's campaign is listed as #132 on the verified fundraiser spreadsheet vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi. Also vetted by association. Ahmed is a friend of @/hazempalestine (#281 on the verified fundraiser list by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi.). See post here.

Only €3,144 raised of €55,000 target! (5.7% of target)

I have been messaging with all of them and they are really lovely people. Please share/reblog and donate if you are able to! You don't have to donate a lot if you can't, every bit helps!!