#also him acknowledging maybe Chaos had a point

[inuringly]

that man cat man cube man questioning existence who man? quick asuka doodle.

[megaderping]

Here's the problem with people asking, "Why couldn't Akechi just quit?" First and foremost, he's only powerful in the Metaverse. Shido controls the law. Shido controls the police. Shido has his cleaner. The very moment Akechi signed on with Shido as a fifteen year old, he was trapped, chained, and any moment of rebellion would turn him into a fugitive if he was lucky. Second, even if he quit, who would he turn to back then? He had no allies and started off as a fifteen year old who had probably been booted out of the system (IIRC, you are left to your own devices once you hit 15 in Japan if you don't have an existing guardian). Sure, he could run away and hide in Mementos, but he'd basically be left to hide from the law without any means to protect himself and without any allies to turn to. He could make connections, maybe, but when society had repeatedly crushed his spirit and treated him like shit, he had no reason to believe it'd work. By the time he met Joker, someone who was willing to just be around him, listen, and just let him be at least a little more true to himself, it was too late because he had blood on his hands, was going to have to turn against the Thieves and thus Joker, and it was all a "sacrifice" he would have to make for a plan that was never going to work. A plan made by a broken fifteen year old who had nothing but a false god's "blessings" to give him even a semblance of power in a world where he had been nothing but powerless. And to ignore this aspect of Goro Akechi is to ignore the message the game was trying to convey the entire time. The Phantom Thieves acknowledge his role as a victim- Shido's greatest victim, in fact. They do so without condoning what he did, but also with an understanding that any one of them could have become him. Akechi is a foil to the Thieves in the truest sense, a combination of the individual themes each Phantom Thief represents, stripped of the unity that allowed them each to find power and comradery.

And the greatest tragedy is that the game was rigged against him from the start. He was always chosen to be an agent of chaos by Yaldabaoth, to be alone, angry, and carve a path of destruction. But at one point, he was a traumatized child in a society that condemned him for the circumstances of his birth, which he could not control.

[garbinge]

HARMONY AFTER THE STORM

Tyler Owens x F!Reader // Word Count: 2.7k Summary: After a long day, you wind down back at the motel and share a sweet moment at the parking lot bonfire with Tyler Owens. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Fluff. Established relationship. Light angst (based on details of the heaviness of storm chasing). No use of y/n. A/N: Trying out somethin a liiiil new layout wise for my fics! Tyler Owens brain rot is in full effect and this fluffy little number makes my heart warm.

Your phone speaker hummed as music vibrated against the bathroom sink while you washed the day off in the shower. The motel’s water pressure wasn’t the best, but you weren’t complaining, you were happy there was hot water and soap left. You were always the last of the crew to shower, while that ran the risk of running out of hot water, it also awarded you the most peaceful shower. Everyone was gone, outside gathered around bonfires, maybe fixing up equipment. Point was, it left you alone to decompress with your music and sometimes you’d sneak a shower beer in as well, you were a southern girl after all. 

After a day of chasing storms, getting dirt practically embedded into your skin, the chaos of all the voices, the engines, the winds, this was your peace, your grounding. The soft music buzzing as you swayed back and forth as the water fell down your body. Washing down the drain along with the dirty water was all your anxiety from the day. While you loved chasing tornadoes, you also fully were aware of the effect it had on your psyche. You weren’t as easy as the others in the crew. Boone loved the thrill, he was crazy in the best way possible. Lilly was a free-spirit, she would go wherever the winds blew her and thrive effortlessly. Dani and Dexter, they were too smart for their own good, every equation, every problem, they’d smile through finding the solution. And Tyler, well, he was a good combination of it all while also just plainly and simply loving it. The clouds, the storms, he found beauty in them. For him it was passion.  For you, you did enjoy it, the thrill of it all, the problem solving, the fact that it kept you on your toes moving.  And you couldn’t lie, the storms were fucking beautiful when you really looked at them. But for you the reasoning was more difficult. You wanted to help. But that came with a heavy burden, but for you helping outweighed all those bad moments. That’s how it was for everyone in the crew, you just felt like the mental images of wreckage stayed with you a little longer than everyone else. Which is why these showers were your favorite, it helped you process it all. 

“Hey baby, it’s just me!” Tyler called out as he entered the motel room. “Just lookin’ for Lilly’s drone repair case!” His eyes were looking around the room, there were tons of bags and things scattered across the floor, the beds, and anything resembling a table. His announcement out to you was just so he didn’t startle you with his presence, but he knew very well how important that end of the day shower was to you which is why he wasn’t paying much attention to the open door of the bathroom. 

Between the music on your phone and the shower you didn’t hear him come in. Just continued your swaying, letting the water bounce off your face. As the song changed, you began to mumble along, your voice echoing against the bathroom acoustics despite you only lowly singing with the speaker. 

As Tyler bent down to grab the case, his eyebrows furrowed, the left side of his lips twitched up in a smile, his mouth open as he let out a whispered chuckle. There was a lot crossing his mind at the moment. It was obvious you hadn’t heard him come in, not because you were singing but because you were singing and hadn’t acknowledged him. As he heard you mumbling the country music from damn near a decade ago he couldn’t help but grin. It was music you’d both listen to when you first started dating. The song was one he hadn’t heard in ages but when it filled his ears now, and your voice joined along with it, he couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. His head turned towards the bathroom door that was wide open as he stood up straight, the drone case now in his hand resting at his side. The frosted shower curtain tried its best to censor out what was behind it, but your blurred silhouette could still be seen as you moved your hips back and forth to the beat. That grin on Tyler's grin didn’t fade, if anything it grew bigger. Dropping the case on the bed before walking over to the bathroom, he leaned his shoulder on the open door frame as his arms crossed, and his right foot crossed over the left. Seeing you like this made his heart happy, he was no stranger to the weight your storm chasing days had on you. His mind couldn’t help but jump back to those first few years of your relationship, ones that were littered with memories of late night drives, line dancing and stepping on eachother’s feet, camping out in the bed of his truck in the middle of the Arkansas farmland plains. It was crazy that all this time had passed and you hadn’t done any of the things that made you fall in love with each other for what now he realized felt like a really long time. Your lives were consumed with this and while he knew you didn’t mind, it didn’t stop his own from wandering. His head fell down with one more smile, opting to not say anything to you and ruin your post-chase ritual. Pushing off the door frame, he grabbed the case and left the motel room to rejoin the group outside. 

Your hair was still damp from the shower, but you had fresh clothes on and felt like a new person. Quickly you tossed your shoes on, grabbed your phone from the bathroom sink and made your way down the stairs to join the crew. At this point, they had all gathered around the bonfire, leaving the rest of the repairs and work for tomorrow. Guitars of some of the chasers from other groups were playing as the groups gathered with their beers and mingled. It was one of your favorite things about being on the road like this, just random people joining together all in the common interest of storms. But these moments weren't always about twisters, they were about comradery, they were about friendship, laughs. It was memories in the making.

As you reached into the cooler, you pulled out two cans of beer. The condensation and melted ice falling off them in drops as you made your way closer to the bonfire circle. While there weren't many empty seats left around the fire, you knew you always had one reserved for you. You spotted Tyler before you even trekked down the stairs of the motel, his laugh was loud and could be heard from miles away. Your eyes had found him in the crowd almost immediately so once you were on the ground level, all you needed to do was make your way over to him. 

“Hey.” It came out as a whisper in his ear while leaning over the back of the chair he was reclined slightly back on. Your hands fell down against his chest, the cold beers you got for both of you were resting against him now. He stopped talking and looked up at you, his hand instinctively reaching up your arms and guiding you to sit down in his lap which you did without hesitation.

“Hey country girl.” His left hand caught your back as you moved down onto his legs, his other hand resting over your legs that dangled off the side of him as well as the chair. 

As your face scrunched up in a humorous and unclear look, you adjusted yourself in his lap, Tyler providing you support as you did so. 

“Country girl?” You questioned him, still confused as to what he meant. You were a lot of things, nickname wise, to him. He’d come up with something for everything over the years but this was one you hadn’t heard. 

He didn’t answer you, just smiled and placed a quick kiss on your arm before taking one of the beers from your hands to crack open before continuing his conversation from before you arrived.

And if that wasn’t enough, Lilly’s voice was taking you away from even thinking about what Tyler had said. “We fixed the drone!”

Tyler's head was resting on the side of your arm, chatting with the person to his left, although to you it was behind. Your time was being occupied by leaning forward a bit to talk with Lilly who was in the seat to Tyler’s right. She was catching up on the details with Cairo, the drone that had been just as much a part of your crew as each human member. You were so invested in the conversation that you almost missed the familiar strumming in the faint distance. It took you a few seconds but your head turned and took in the guitar players nodding and tapping their feet to the song you were just singing to while you showered. 

Your lips began to curve up, you felt Tyler’s hand move up your back, rubbing it over your shirt. As you looked down at him, your smile still only slightly curved and your eyes knowingly doing all the talking for you, his own grin widened and he looked down away from your gaze with a laugh. 

“Tyler Owens, were you spying on me?” You whispered it, only wanting this to be a moment between the two of you. 

“It’s possible.” He cheesed even harder as he looked back up into your gaze again. 

With a shake of your head, you looked away so you could roll your eyes before nestling in closer to him. Your side was falling against his chest, but your head found its comfortable position rested on his shoulder as you sunk down a bit more. “You told them to play this?” 

“I did.” He said it so matter of fact while looking over at the guitar players, his hands coming around you tighter as he held you as close to him as possible. “I came in to grab somethin’ for Lilly. Called out to you and everythin’.” His shoulders moved your face up and down as he shrugged. “Just as I was about to leave I heard this song start, and some pretty little voice joinin’ along with it.” You felt yourself get a little warm as he said it, a mix of fluster and a little embarrassment. “Got me thinkin’ about when we first started hangin’ out.” 

“S’why I listen to it. It reminds me of you.” You knew Tyler felt a little warm in the cheeks too. 

Both of you closed your eyes and just let the music consume you. His head relaxing slightly on yours as you both slightly moved to the beat. You felt his lips against your temple a couple times as the song went on. Each one saying how much you meant to him. 

As the song began to wind down, Tyler hummed. “We should do some of the old stuff we used to do again.” 

You let out a slight snort, one that made Tyler laugh as well as he waited for some explanation. “Tornado wranglers by day and country line dancers by night?” 

“Was talkin’ more about the truck bed camping and late night drives.” While both of you had done the line dancing thing, it by far wasn’t your favorite event. Thinking about it, you both might have gotten more injured there than you did chasing tornadoes. 

“We could do that.” Agreeing, you still kept your eyes closed shut, enjoying the last bits of the song, reimagining the old memories you shared while now thinking of how you could make them new. “Would be a nice change of pace.” 

“I could join you next time in the shower, too. If you’re just looking for a change of pace.” His eyebrows raised as he opened his one eye to peek over at you for your reaction. 

“Could work.” A smirk played at your lips in response. It was then that you realized the song was starting over and you opened your eyes to look at Tyler as your brows grew closer together. “How many times did you ask them to play it?” You were sitting up now, trying to figure out what Tyler was up to.

His arms were still wrapped around your body despite you moving up. “Told ‘em to play until you danced with me.” 

With a similar eye roll as before, you stood up now, your hands filling the space where his just were on your hips in a slight show of attitude. Those damn blue green eyes were looking up at you with the most tender and sweet look attached to them. One that you couldn’t bear to let down so you extended your hand out for him to take it. “Let’s go, Owens.” 

His hand gripped around yours in seconds and when he stood up, he raised his arm with yours to twirl you around until you spun against his chest. Your free hand raising up to brace for impact on his pecks. “We gotta work on your balance if we’re gonna be going line dancing.” He teased you before starting to walk with you practically connected to his chest to a more open area of the lot. After a couple steps, he was turning his body away from you to lead you through the crowd, his hand still connected with yours as you trailed behind him. Once the more open area was in your midst, he turned towards you and you wrapped your arm over his own so your hand was resting on his shoulder but you were leaning more into him than a more traditional slow dance hand placement. Your other hand still hadn’t let go of his own even as the swaying began, but you did feel his other arm caress your lower back to the beat, not only in a romantic way but one that kept you both moving on rhythm. This wasn’t where you expected your night going, but you were damn enjoying it, that was for sure. 

“I know this is hard on you.” His words weren’t the ones you were expecting, so as your fingers moved from his shoulders to get tangled in his blonde hair, you frowned despite knowing exactly what he was saying and looked down to make a joke out of it.

“Pretty sure I haven’t stepped on your foot once yet.” 

“No,” he laughed before getting serious again, “I just meant, I know the chase, it can wear you down.” 

You nodded in agreement but shrugged up at him, your fingers moving from his hair to lightly trace his cheek. “Stuff like this makes it easier.” 

He dipped his head in acknowledgment of your words before letting the music take over for a bit, but you weren’t going to leave it there. You wanted him to really understand that you meant what you said. 

“You know you still keep me on my toes, Owens.” You spoke to him, still shocked by how the night had progressed. 

“Good, because I don’t need you stepping on mine.” He looked down when you accidentally misstepped causing both of you to come closer together in laughs. He drew you closer, the embrace was one that spoke so much with such a small gesture. It was reassurance, the feeling of never wanting to let you go or let go of the memories you two shared over the years either. 

And that’s when you rested your head on him, now with your bodies completely against each other, your arms wrapped around his neck, realizing this moment would be added to that list. To seal its impression you lifted your head to look up at Tyler, your eyes moving from his to his lips and then brought your interlocked fingers to the nape of his neck to bring his face closer to yours. The soft, intimate kiss was your souvenir from this moment, your way of embedding this memory right along with your other cherished ones.

Dividers by @realitycanbewhateveridesire ♥️ 🌪️ Twisters Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @cinderellasmissingshoes (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Never Say Never| Pt3

Warnings: Cursing

Pt1 Pt2 Pt4

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The apartment was bustling with the usual chaos of eight boys living together. You had gotten used to the noise, the mess, and the constant presence of the members of Stray Kids. After the painful breakup, moving in with them had seemed like a fresh start, a way to escape the loneliness that had settled deep in your bones. You were over your ex; that chapter was closed. But living here had opened another, more complicated chapter involving Hyunjin once more.

You found yourself in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee in the early morning silence. The rest of the boys were still asleep, and you cherished these quiet moments before the day’s chaos began. As you poured yourself a cup, Hyunjin walked in, hair tousled and eyes sleepy.

“Morning,” he mumbled, reaching for a mug. His presence always stirred something in you, a mix of longing and frustration.

You couldn't help but notice how when he reached up, his shirt went up as well, showing the skin on the lower half of his belly, thanks to his low riding pajama bottoms. You took a sharp inhale.

“Morning,” you replied, trying to keep your voice neutral.

The two of you sipped your coffee in silence, the unspoken words hanging heavily between you. It had been months since you moved in - all the boys begging Chris to let you stay permanently in exchange for helping out with chores and joining staff; to which he had easily agreed- and while you had settled into a comfortable routine, the tension between you and Hyunjin was palpable.

“Got any plans today?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Not really. Thought I might go for a walk, maybe check out that new bookstore downtown,” you replied, avoiding his gaze.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice hesitant.

You looked at Hyunjin. His hair was tousled with sleep, and his eyes were sleepy too. He hadn't done his morning routine yet, and his face was still a little puffy - but he was so cute. It made you want to wake up and see him like this every morning. Deep down you felt pride that you got to see him like this everyday, a privilege that his fans didn't get. And you knew if they did, they'd only love him that much more.

Your heart skipped a beat. These small moments with Hyunjin were both a blessing and a curse. You wanted to be close to him, but every interaction reminded you of what you once had and lost.

“Sure,” you said, trying to sound casual.

The walk to the bookstore was filled with light conversation. You talked about the latest movies, the new choreography for their upcoming comeback- even the weather - anything to avoid the elephant in the room. But as you browsed the shelves, you felt Hyunjin’s eyes on you, watching your every move.

You couldn't help but acknowledge the heat you felt creep up you neck and to your cheeks. You could smell his cologne with every turn of the aisle. You loved the smell of fresh books, but fresh books and Hyunjin's scent seemed to be an earthly heaven.

The bookstore was cozy and inviting, with wooden shelves filled with books of all genres. You wandered through the aisles, occasionally picking up a book to read the blurb. Hyunjin followed you, his presence a comforting shadow. But also a fiery brand.

You picked up a book of poetry and flipped through the pages, lost in the words. Hyunjin leaned in, his shoulder brushing against your back as he looked at the book over your shoulder. The closeness made your heart race, and you wondered if he felt it too. His long hair tickled your neck as he hummed into your ear.

“That one’s good,” he said softly, pointing to a particular poem. “It’s about longing and unspoken feelings.” You watched as his ring adorned fingers grabbed the book gently from you to look at the cover, his veins popping out slightly in his slim hands and causing your heart rate to increase.

You glanced at him, surprised by the depth of his choice. “I’ll check it out,” you said, grabbing the book from him and slipping it under your arm.

As you made your way to the checkout counter, you caught Hyunjin looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. There was something in his eyes, a softness that made your heart ache. You quickly looked away, not wanting to dwell on what it might mean. As you reached to grab your card, you already heard the beep of the machine as Hyunjin smiled at you.

He blinked cutely, your eyes pinpointing his birthmark you loved so much, and you swore you could hear some murmurs in the background, but you were too focused on the man in front of you to see if it was you and Hyunjin the people were talking about.

Back at the apartment, Hyunjin seemed to find more reasons to be near you. He’d join you for breakfast, sit next to you during movie nights, and offer to help you with chores. These small gestures, while seemingly insignificant, made your heart flutter with hope and confusion.

One evening, you were sitting on the balcony, looking out at the city lights. Hyunjin joined you, bringing a blanket to ward off the chill.

“Here,” he said, draping it over your shoulders. You inhaled. It smelled just like him.

“Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it tighter around you.

He sat down next to you, the silence between you comfortable yet charged. You found yourself thinking about all the moments you shared, the way he’d look at you when he thought you weren’t watching, the gentle touches that lingered a bit too long.

As the weeks passed, these moments grew more frequent and intense. There were times when your hands would brush while reaching for the same thing, or when you’d catch him staring at you with an unreadable expression. Each time, your heart would race, and you’d find yourself wondering if he still felt the same way you did.

One night, after a particularly long day, you found yourself alone with Hyunjin in the living room. The other members were out, and the apartment was unusually quiet. You sat on the couch, flipping through channels, when Hyunjin sat down next to you.

“What are you watching?” he asked, leaning in to see the screen.

“Just some random drama,” you replied, your heart pounding at his proximity, his arm draped over the section of the couch you occupied.

He didn’t move away, and you could feel the warmth of his body next to yours, even without you guys touching. It was both comforting and unsettling. The way your heart seemed to pick up speed with every breath.

“You always did like these kinds of shows,” he said with a soft smile, as he watched the two main characters get into some unrealistic meet cute.

“Yeah,” you replied, unable to meet his eyes. The air between you was thick with unspoken emotions, and you didn’t know how to navigate it.

The drama on the TV played out in the background as you sat in silence, the tension between you growing with each passing moment. You could feel his gaze on you, and it took all your willpower not to turn and meet his eyes.

Suddenly, Hyunjin reached out and took your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You looked at him, your heart in your throat.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You didn’t know what to say, the words stuck in your throat. The look in his eyes was intense, filled with a mix of longing and uncertainty.

Before you could respond, the front door opened, and the other members burst in, laughing and chatting, Jisung releasing a screech that was eerily similar to that of an eagle - for no reason at all other than to just scream.

Hyunjin quickly let go of your hand, the moment broken. You felt a pang of disappointment and relief, unsure of what you would have said or done if you had been left alone. What would have happened if the guys had taken just a moment more to burst through the door.

As the days turned into weeks, the tension between you and Hyunjin grew. There were stolen glances, lingering touches, and moments where it felt like the world had stopped around you. But neither of you spoke about it, the fear of rejection and hurt keeping you both silent.

One night, you were sitting on the balcony again, lost in thought. Hyunjin joined you, bringing a cup of tea this time.

“Thought you might like this,” he said, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you said, smiling softly. “You always know what I need.”

He smiled back, a warmth in his eyes that made your heart ache. “I try,” he said, sitting down next to you. He sat close enough to where you could stretch out your pinkie to touch his hand if you wanted to, but you didn't. You kept all your phalanges to yourself.

The silence between you was comfortable, the city lights twinkling in the distance. You sipped your tea, the warmth spreading through your body.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Hyunjin asked suddenly, his voice quiet.

“All the time,” you admitted, surprised by the question. “Why?”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately,” he said, looking out at the city. “About what I want, where I see myself.”

“And?” you prompted, your heart pounding.

He turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. “Music. Dancing. Stay. Realistically my career could vanish quickly as well. So... the only thing I really know about my future is that I want you to be in it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words settling over you. You wanted to believe him, to let yourself hope. But the fear of getting hurt still loomed large.

“I want that too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you in my future...you been in my life long enough I don't really know what I'd do if you weren't in my life in some capacity..."

Hyunjin’s eyes softened at your words, a mix of relief and hope flickering across his face; a silent promise hanging in the air between you.

The next morning, everything seemed to reset. The familiar routines took over, the house buzzed with energy, and the rest of the members were their usual boisterous selves. You and Hyunjin fell back into the flow of things, yet there was an underlying current of change. Small gestures carried new meanings, glances held a little longer, and moments of shared silence spoke volumes.

You didn't bring yourself to ask if Hyunjin saw you in his future the playing the same role you saw him playing in your future.

You began to notice the little things: how he would linger in the kitchen when you were cooking, offering to help even if it meant just standing by your side; how he would find excuses to be in the same room as you, whether it was joining you for a late-night snack or sitting beside you during movie marathons. Even more so than he had been doing previously.

One rainy afternoon, you were curled up on the couch with a book, and coffee, the soft patter of rain against the windows creating a cozy atmosphere. Hyunjin entered the living room, carrying a mug of hot chocolate.

He sat down next to you, close but not too close, and picked up his sketchbook from the coffee table. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, the occasional sound of pages turning and the constant light scratching of pencil on paper the only interruption. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him, admiring the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way his lips curved into a small smile at something when he finished it.

As the rain continued to fall, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. These quiet moments with Hyunjin felt like stolen treasures, parts of a future you both were too afraid to fully embrace yet. A future the both of you were too afraid of admitting you wanted. Especially since the last time you tried it ended horribly.

One evening, you found yourself alone in the practice room. You often came here when you needed to clear your mind, the mirrored walls and the soft hum of the air conditioning providing a sense of peace. You were stretching, lost in thought, when Hyunjin walked in.

“Hey,” he said, a bit surprised to see you there. “Didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

“Just needed some space,” you replied, standing up and smiling at him. “What about you?”

“Practicing some choreography...” he said, walking over to join you. “Mind if I join?”

“Not at all,” you said, stepping aside to give him room.

The two of you began to stretch in silence, the familiar movements grounding you. After a while, Hyunjin put on one of their unreleased songs and started to dance, his fluid movements mesmerizing. You watched him, captivated by the way he seemed to lose himself in the music. There was something incredibly vulnerable about him in these moments, a raw honesty that took your breath away.

He finished his routine and turned to you, slightly out of breath. “Your turn,” he said with a playful grin.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not nearly as good as you. I couldn't even learn the choreography to any of your dances with your help.” You laughed.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, walking over and taking your hand. “Just dance with me.”

You hesitated for a moment, then let him pull you into the center of the room. He put on a slow, melodic song and guided you through the steps. At first, you were self-conscious, aware of every mistake, but Hyunjin’s gentle encouragement and the warmth of his touch soon made you forget your insecurities.

As you danced, you felt a sense of closeness that was ineffable. Your bodies moved in sync, your heartbeats matching the rhythm of the music. You looked into his eyes, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world faded away.

When the song ended, you found yourself standing close to him, his hand still holding yours. Neither of you moved, the air between you charged with unspoken emotions. You could feel his breath on your skin, his gaze locked on yours.

“Hyunjin…” you began, but the words caught in your throat.

He raised a hand to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch sending shivers down your spine. A hesitant smile creeped onto his face. “I know,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The moment stretched on, and you felt the urge to close the distance between you, to bridge the gap that had kept you apart for so long. And you knew he felt it too. But before either of you could act on it, the door to the practice room opened, and one of the members poked their head in.

“Hey, there you guys are! We’re heading out for dinner, wanna join?” Felix called out, oblivious to the charged atmosphere.

You quickly stepped back, your heart pounding. “Yeah, we’ll be right there,” Hyunjin replied, his voice steady despite the intensity of the moment.

During dinner you couldn't bring yourself to look at Hyunjin.

Did he want the same things you wanted? Would everything work out if you decided to try again?

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom but then decided to take a detour outside. You hadn't realized how much time had passed until you felt a jacket placed over you.

“It’s getting colder,” Hyunjin remarked, pulling the jacket tighter around you.

“Yeah,” you agreed. You swallowed, not knowing what else to say.

He glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. Then he took a shot at the dark. “Remember our first date? It was so cold that night.”

You smiled at the memory. “Yeah, we spent the whole night trying to keep warm.”

“And failing miserably,” he added with a chuckle.

You laughed, the sound mixing with the crisp night air. “We did, but it was still perfect.”

He nodded, his gaze turning serious. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the past. About what went wrong and what we could have done differently.”

You felt a pang of sadness, but also a sense of closure. “We both made mistakes, Hyunjin. But what matters is we're okay now.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with determination. “I don’t want to make those mistakes again. I want to do things right this time.”

You turned to him. "This...time?"

"If you'll have me yes. It's been almost two years...and those have been the worst almost-two-years of my life. Even if we're friends, I always have to try so hard to push down my feelings for you. They never went away, Y/N. If anything, your absence just made them grow stronger..."

"We can try." You found yourself saying without even hesitating for a second. "But...slowly..."

Hyunjin smiled and nodded softly.

The two of you stood there, the city lights twinkling in the distance. It wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was a start. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of hope and possibility.

You and Hyunjin continued to navigate the complexities of your renewed relationship the next few weeks. There were still moments of doubt and hesitation, but there were also moments of joy and connection that reminded you why you were taking this chance.

One afternoon, you were in the kitchen making sushi.

“Brings back memories..." he said, leaning against the counter.

“Thats why I'm doing it,” you replied, smiling at him. “Want to help?”

“Sure,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “What do you need me to do?”

“Handle the rice,” you said, handing him a bowl of rice. “And don’t get it everywhere like last time...”

“No promises,” he said with a grin, taking the bowl and causing you both to laugh.

As you worked side by side, the kitchen filled with laughter and the slight mess of making sushi. It was a simple, everyday moment, but it felt significant. These were the moments that made up a relationship, the small, seemingly insignificant interactions that built a foundation of trust and love.

You glanced at Hyunjin, his concentration focused on neatly aligning the ingredients, and felt a swell of affection. This was what you wanted, what you had missed. Not the grand gestures or the dramatic moments, but the quiet, everyday life shared with someone you loved.

The sushi rolls were soon ready, and you sat at the kitchen table, enjoying the fruits of your labor. Hyunjin took a bite and closed his eyes in exaggerated bliss.

"This is amazing,” he said, reaching for another, his chopsticks getting crossed with yours.

“Glad you like them,” you said, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction.

He looked at you, his expression serious. “I don’t just mean the sushi, you know.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “I know.”

“I’m really glad we’re doing this. It’s not easy, but it feels right.”

You felt a sense of peace settle over you. “It does. And we’ll figure it out, one step at a time.”

The slow burn of your renewed relationship continued, each day bringing new moments of connection and understanding. You found joy in the small things, like the way Hyunjin would brush your hair behind your ear when it fell into your face, or the way he’d make you laugh with his silly antics.

One night, after a particularly exhausting day, you found yourself alone in the practice room. You had come here to clear your mind, to lose yourself in the music and the movement. You stretched, the familiar routines grounding you. Then began to dance.

The music washed over you, filling the empty spaces with its rhythm and melody. You closed your eyes, letting your body move with the music, each step a brushstroke on the canvas of your emotions.

You were no dancer, but you could see how one would be at peace doing something like this.

Lost in the moment, you didn’t hear the door open or the footsteps approaching. It wasn’t until a warm hand touched your shoulder that you snapped out of your reverie.

You turned, startled, and found Hyunjin standing there, his eyes intense and focused on you. He looked different somehow, his usual easy smile replaced by a raw vulnerability.

“Hey,” you said, your voice breathless.

He didn’t say anything, just looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race. And then, without warning, he closed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss was soft yet urgent, a collision of longing and restraint. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. You responded instinctively, melting into his embrace, your hands finding their way to his chest.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed, the world outside the practice room fading into insignificance. It was just the two of you, lost in a moment that felt both inevitable and surreal.

This was the first kiss that you and Hyunjin had shared since you decided to try again, and you could feel the two years of pent-up emotions and love with just the one act.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless. Hyunjin looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or hesitation. But all you felt was a deep sense of connection, a confirmation of everything you had been silently hoping for.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You shook your head, unable to find the words. Instead, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands, pulling him down for another kiss. This time, it was slower, more exploratory, as if you were trying to memorize every curve and contour of his lips.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmured against your lips, his hands tightening their grip on your waist.

“Me too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He kissed you again, and again, each touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. The kiss deepened, a silent promise of everything you had yet to explore and discover together.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally pulled apart, your foreheads resting against each other’s. Your hearts were pounding in sync, a tangible echo of the intensity that had passed between you.

“I... I’m sorry,” Hyunjin said again, his voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t have...”

“No,” you interrupted softly, shaking your head. “Don’t apologize.”

“But I... I didn’t want to pressure you,” he continued, his eyes searching yours desperately. "We were supposed to take it slow..."

“You didn’t pressure me,” you assured him, your thumb tracing circles on his cheek. “I wanted this too, Hyunjin. I just... I didn’t know how to say it.”

He exhaled slowly, a mixture of relief and disbelief crossing his features. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

"We should still go slow," he said softly, his hands still resting on your waist. “I don’t want to mess this up again. I want to be extra careful. I don't want to break up.”

“We won’t,” you promised, leaning in to kiss him again. “We’ll take it one day at a time, we'll make sure this works.”

He nodded, his forehead still resting against yours.

You guys stood there, and you were sure nothing could break this tender moment, until Hyunjin's phone started ringing. He ignored but after the third call, he took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen, confusion painting his face to see the numerous amounts of notifications and Chan's name pop up.

"Hello?"

"Management wants to see you. Dispatch released photos a ton of photos. They even talked to Y/N's ex. I don't know if anyone's found Y/N's personal info yet you know how some Stays are."

You reached into the pocket of your hoodie and opened your private Instagram, seeing over 400 follow requests to your private account. And over 2000 new follows to your public spam account. You didn't even post pictures on there you posted art and memes, with no identification at all , so it shocked you to see how easily you were found.

Your following went up by the minute and so did the comments and DM requests you were getting.

Are you dating Hwang Hyunjin?

Die you fucking bitch.

You're ugly how the hell did you even pull Hyunjin.

Ahhhh! You and Hyunjin seem like you two are cute together!

Sleep with one eye open whore.

You looked at Hyunjin and you saw his eyes watering in anger.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "Its okay Hyunjin it's not your fault. Not at all."

He put his phone in his pocket and pulled you into his embrace.

"I'll fix this Y/N. I promise. Whatever it takes. For you I'd do anything."

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @thicccurls @lailac13

[ram-bam-writes]

Wisdom Teeth [Jake Seresin x NB Reader]

A/N: Per my parents recounting, when I got my wisdom teeth removed a few days ago, I cried in my bed because they couldn’t get paramount to play on my tv in my room. I wanted to see Glen Powell so badly that my parents had to dig around to find a charger for my computer so they could put it on… Twenty minutes later I have my laptop flat on my face while humming along to the soundtrack as the TGM plays… Ehehe :>

Summary: Jake’s partner gets all four wisdom teeth removed… Chaos ensues…  Based on personal experiences and made up ones. You guess which are which :>

CW: Wisdom teeth extraction, mentions of medical fears, mentions of blood, reader is suffering, Jake is being a little shit, hurt/comfort, no beta we die like goose, etc [The first part is the actual incident, which goes over fears and hinted past medical trauma, but the rest is lovely (irritating) banter between Jake and his lover. Blue will be everything to do with the angst if you wanna skip past it]

Word Count: 3206

“Honey…” Jake purrs, gently patting your arm in the middle of the waiting room. “Take a breath.”

It’d been several grueling minutes of staring at the clock on the pale wall of the oral surgeon’s office, foot tapping impatiently on the floor as you wait in fear for the extraction. You didn’t want your wisdom teeth out — you’d heard horror stories online. But they caused plenty of migraines and ear pain, and you absolutely needed them out when the bottom teeth grew in with cavities.

That, you decided, wasn’t fair to you at all.

But, alas, it pushed you to get them out. And the dentists advised to get all four out at once, since the top ones were also impacted. So it only made sense to get it all done in one fast sweep.

“Honey.” Jake says a little more firmly, gently grasping your hands. You blink up at him, eyes widened. “Sorry…” “Talk to me, hun. What’s up? They’ve done this a thousand times.” He points at the office wall. “And this is where I got my teeth out. You’re gonna be okay. They’re amazing.” As you tap your feet on the floor, you try not to think of the story your older brother had told you. He’d gotten his ripped out in the Navy, and they had him on not enough local anesthetics and, unfortunately, felt them ripping out his teeth one by one. Your biggest fear became feeling the pain or waking up in the middle of the surgery. 

“I know, I know…” Your hand squeezes his. You didn’t want to be afraid, but you’d woken up before, and your brother certainly didn’t help. He’d tried to — that’s why he told you his story. He was trying to express that he only went through that because, well, Navy. You wouldn’t deal with it. But that didn’t help.

“I’ll be right here every step of the way…” He promises, offering a reassuring smile.

The door besides the office opens, a blond haired dental assistant leaning out of it. “Seresin?”

You inhale shakily, standing up. Your partner quickly follows you, ushering you inside. They both get you situated into the white room, a set of crazy equipment set up in the middle of the room. The dental assistant sits you in a chair, then proceeds to hook you up to an EKG.

“Mmm…” Jake lets out a low purr as your shirt is lifted to attach the stickers. “You look good…”

As much as you want to glare or blush, your nerves take over. The EKG begins to read your heart beat, following the pulses and patterns effortlessly. But that sound…

Warmth blooms on your thigh as Jake runs a hand across your skin. His green eyes swirl with concern, smiling weakly at you. “Breathe.”

After signing a few too many agreements to acknowledge that you’re aware that tons of shit can go wrong in the healing process and that it won’t be the dental office’s fault, you’re situated more comfortably in the chair.

More comfortably? Maybe less so, given they escort your partner out all too quickly. Jake gives you one last kiss to the forehead, just between your brows, and slips out of the room reluctantly. 

The actual oral surgeon walks into the room, his smile friendly. He begins to talk to you about what you do. School, work, both? As you answer each question, he sets up the IV, admittedly a little rough on your right arm. He apologizes, unable to get the IV set up properly, resulting in him going to the left arm. 

As you attempt to keep your wits about yourself, the room swirls around you. “It’s… fine… I’ve had it in my-my hand once…”

When you attempt to explain the story of your hand IV incident, several pairs of hands begin touching your body. One around your neck, two around your legs, and two on each arm. Something is pressed against your nose, something choking your throat. The EKG is loud as it beeps, signaling your tachycardic state.

So you thrash. You thrash and thrash — they wanted to hurt you. With wild eyes, you frantically search around the room for anyone you can recognize, but it’s just several masked medical personnel. It isn’t until the oral surgeon pulls down his blue mask that you see a slightly familiar face, finally easing your breathing.

“That’s it…” The oral surgeon praises. “You passed out on us for a second… but it’s okay… you’re doing fine… you’re okay now…”

“I’m-I’m sor-so-sorry…” Tears slip down your cheeks as the oral surgeon rubs your arm to ease your mind. You can feel the soft hands of a sweet, younger dental assistant running through your hair, smiling gently down at you behind her mask.

“Don’t be… you’re doing just fine. We’re gonna give you the anesthetics, and it’ll be over before you know it…”

A sob shakes your body. “Please don’t let me wake up.”

“I won’t let you. It’ll be the best nap of your life…”

———

“The denshist was sho cute…”

A soft laugh resonates around you, but you can’t quite make out where you’re at or who you’re with.

“Yeah?”

“Yeash... the denshist was shuper cute…”

“Okay, hun..."

"Sho cute."

"Hun."

———

“Javy, can you help me bring them in the house?”

You knew that name. You knew that voice! People!

“That’s my boyfrieeeend!” You suddenly shout, leaning against Javy, incapable of standing on your own. You beam a bloody smile at the blond pilot standing across you, his arms held out in case you tumble. “That’s myyyyy boyfriend!”

“Jayyyy thasss my boyfrienddd!”

“I know.”

“My boyfrieeeend!”

“Y-yes!” Javy holds you tight, attempting to not drop you while he cackles.

“Boyfriend!”

———

You blink up at your boyfriend in a daze, Jake’s sweet smile staring down at you. He hands you a black table bell, one you had gotten him a few months prior. It reads: “If you hear this bell, bring me a beer.”

“Here, hun. Ring this when you need something from Javy, okay?” He pats your head lovingly. “I need to pick up your meds from the Pharmacy.”

He should have known better. Objectively, he should have known. You’re drugged! How can you not ring the bell seventy-million times in a row the moment you’re handed it?

“Hun.” A bright grin spreads across his face, his laugh warm as it swirls around you. “Don’t make me take it away, darlin’.”

The ringing stops. 

“Thank you.” He kisses your forehead as you set the bell next to your bed, eyes glimmering as you stare at the oh-so-tempting piece of metal. 

———

There’s a warm glow from the curtains as the sun slowly lowers behind the horizon line. Wind blows from the open window, the breeze comforting against your cold, sore body. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a normal morning after a good night with your partner.

And then the pain strikes. A thin set of lines in the four corners of your jaw are stinging. Jake, always a master of knowing your pain, rounds the corner to the open bedroom door.

“Ow…” You groan out, gauze stuffed in your cheeks. “Why…”

His calloused hands reach out and caress your neck. He doesn’t dare to touch your jaw, not in your current state. That’s a recipe for disaster he isn’t keen on making, actually. “Take it easy… you’re still pretty high on narcotics…”

“Ugh…” For some reason, your whole body aches something bad. It’s like you got hit by a truck. “Drugs…”

“Yes,” he laughs sweetly at you as he helps you sit up properly. “Yes, drugs. Good ones, too. Red caps, orange bottles. Good stuff.”

“Opioids…”

“Don’t talk much… the clots are still healing.” Jake gently wipes at the corner of your mouth with a wet cloth, removing the excess blood from your skin.

Is that why there’s so much gauze in your mouth?

“Let’s get you some new gauze, okay?” His strong arms help you stand upright as you lean most of your weight against him. An arm snakes around your waist, his lips pressing against the side of your head. “I’ve got ya…”

He leads you to the roomy kitchen, setting you onto the countertop. You instinctively spit out the gauze, something he laughs at. 

“Hun… unsanitary.” He earns himself a glare from you as he wanders to the sink. “I’ve got new gauze right here. Throw these ones in the trash, copy?”

“Floor.”

“Trash.”

“Floor.”

“Trash.“

“Floo-“He decides to interrupt you by pressing a rolled pad of gauze against your lips. Not hard, not at all. But enough to shut your drug-addled self up.

“Now bite down and quit bein’ a brat.”

You do as you’re told, mostly because your jaw is actually beginning to hurt from speaking so much. And when he hands you the good pills, the ones you know are gonna help fix most of those pains, you eagerly attempt to swallow them down with water.

“Babe-“ Jake inhales, immediately bursting out into laughter when the pill dissolves on your tongue, your mouth not quite working properly.

When your face twists in disgust as you try to swallow the dissolving pill, your partner’s fingers quickly grab the pill. He holds it in his palm, saving you from the horrendous taste. Down the length of your chin and neck is a long stream of wetness, none of the water that you had taken a sip of making it down the inside of your throat. 

“Alright, messy little thing, let’s try that again, hm?” He hands you a fresh pill this time, hand manually tilting your head back. “Once more, baby…”

———

Food.

You crave food.

Sustenance.

A soft knock echos on the door to your shared bedroom, Jake stepping inside with a paper bag. “I’ve got food!”

The speed at which you sit up is concurrent with the pure hunger your body feels. Jake can only laugh when your eyes, large and focused, stare at the bag of food, your nose working to figure out what food he has for you. Jake sits down on the bed next to you, gently pulling out small round containers of food. One large one, one small one.

“Doc says you can have mashed potatoes and gr-“ Maybe he should have expected you to snatch the container eagerly, drool slipping past your lips.

You were finally allowed to take out the bloody gauze pads, the clots beginning to heal. Not enough to eat normal foods again, but fuck if these potatoes didn’t smell like heaven.

“Just go slow, darlin’.” Jake helps pour the gravy into the mashed potato container and hands you a spoon. “Don’t want you poppin’ a stitch just yet.”

As you eagerly scoop up the first bite of savory mashed potatoes, you run into your first problem. 

You can’t open your mouth wide enough. To fit. The spoon.

The spoon clatters against your teeth, and Jake silently thanks the gods it was just a plastic spoon. And when you pout, letting out a strangled whine, he laughs so sweetly as he cups your jaw. 

“Struggling to fit that, darlin’?” He teases, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Here, let’s get you somethin’… smaller.”

He digs around the paper bag, this time pulling out a plastic fork. After scooping up some room-temperature mashed potatoes, he gently feeds it through the small gap between your jaws that you can manage. 

“Fuck…” You groan, the taste on your tongue pure bliss. Had mashed potatoes always tasted this good?

Jake laughs at your sounds. The way your eyes flutter and weakened smile forms has his heart thrumming right out of his chest. You’re his baby, and he loves every second of it.

“That’s it, hun. There’s plenty more where that came from.” He feeds you another spoonful. “Nice and easy. Swallow all of it, darlin’. No spitting.”

… Did he really just…?

You deadpan your lover, a bit of mashed taters still coating your lips which slightly dulls the intended effect.

Oh, the laugh he lets out is a boisterous one. Grabbing you a tissue and gently wiping your lips, he offers a cheeky smile. “Can’t help it darlin’. This is who you chose.”

“You’re so lucky you’re spoon feeding me.”

“Fork feeding.”

———

Day two of the recovery period goes a bit better. Since the mashed potatoes yesterday, you’ve been able to have really really mashed egg salad, cold ramen with cut up noodles, more mashed potatoes, and even room-temperature tofu. With the opioids you’re on, you can’t quite get the average hunger cues, which is probably in your best interest given the nutrients you’ve been living off of consist only of mashed potatoes, yogurt, and chicken broth.

Javy has come to visit, since Jake had a few errands to run and was never gonna let you stay by yourself. You’d known Javy probably longer than you knew Jake. He’s a close friend of yours, especially given that he’s the reason you and Jake got together. 

“Javy…” You whine out, leaning dramatically on his lap. “Will you please get me more food…? Jake’s killing me!”

The man in question pats your head, his eyes never leaving the TV in front of him. “Nope. Jake has you on the diet you need to be on.”

If it weren’t for him being your friend, you’d have smacked him a lot harder. But maybe, just maybe, you could complain long enough and get some pancakes out of him. The sweetness of syrup and carbs sounds so damn appealing that your stomach growls in need.

“I can’t take it anymore! Please! I just want pancakes!”

“Sorry, love.” Javy points over to the bowl of yogurt on the coffee table. “Not yet. You can have pancakes on day four.”

“Did he leave you a list?” “Of course he left me a list.” Javy offers you his phone, seeing the frantic, detailed texts from your partner. “Several.”

As mad as you want to be, your heart warms with how much your boyfriend does to keep you healthy and well. Without him, you’d probably have already popped several stitches.

“Oh, and, out of curiosity.” Javy tilts his head to look down at you, gently placing the bag of frozen corn on your cheek once more. “Do you remember anything about the oral surgeon?”

You blink.

“What?”

Javy grins. “The dentist that took out your teeth. Do you remember anything about him?”

“Um… he calmed me down when I freaked out.” You wrack your brain trying to think of anything else. “But… not really.”

“How cute is he?”

“WHAT?” You wince from the sudden shout, your stitches not very happy with you. “How-how what is he?”

Javy’s smirk turns into a full blown grin, his laugh echoing in the small living room. “You don’t remember? You wouldn’t shut up on the drive home how cute the dentist was! I think you told Jake like, eight times in ten minutes!”

Your cheeks burn, eyes wide as you swallow thickly. Had you really? 

“Jake was having a blast. You were so head over heels for the dentist you actually cried when we left. And then, as if the dentist never existed, the moment I pulled you out of Jake’s truck, you refused to shut up about him being your boyfriend.”

He pats your head affectionately. “You were hanging off of me and makin’ grabby hands at him. I’d never seen Jake so in love.”

Javy laughs when you hide your face with your hands, whining with embarrassment at the story.

“And that’s before the photo incident.”

“The w h a t?”

Maybe you shouldn’t ask.

“The photo incident, darlin’.” Jake’s voice carries across the room, shutting the screen door behind him with several bags in his hand. “I came back from the Pharmacy that day to find you layin’ flat on yer back with a photo of me n’ rooster stuck on yer face. Javy say’s you cried when I left, but a photo sufficed.”

He sets down the bags in the kitchen, leaning against the door to the living room with a lazy grin. “You okay there, sugartits?”

“No!” You hide your face once again. 

“Oh, don’t be that way.” Javy waves his hands. “Jakey here cried himself sick when he got his teeth out because his cat walked away to go eat.”

It’s your partner’s turn to becomes flustered, his golden cheeks tinting red. Jake points at his best friend, eyes narrowed. “To the grave. That was. To the grave.”

Your hands quickly fly up to press against your mouth, less to suppress you hysterical giggles and more to keep your mouth from stretching too much. Javy stands and gently moves you aside on the couch, grinning all to mischievously. 

“That’s my cue to leave-“ Javy gives the two of you finger guns, walking towards the door. “I’ll have the missus bring some shakes over later tonight, ‘kay?”

You sight, flopping back down onto the couch.

“Pancakes?”

Jake’s lips press right up against your forehead, his tone loving and affectionate. ��No, little chipmunk.”

“I’m not that swollen!”

———

With day three rolling around all too slowly, Jake takes the time to cuddle you endlessly on the couch. He did his morning run, workout, and shower routine early, wanting to give you as much attention for the day as he can. 

While you pain is bearable, every few words you’d speak would be met with a sudden jolt of pain to your gums, right where the stitches had been. 

Thankfully, you had Jake to nuzzle into, his breathing light and easy as random movies play on the TV. His hands stroke your scalp, lovingly giving your waist squeezes every now and again. He’d gotten pretty good at recognizing your pain cues, especially the sudden sharp ones.

“Need some ice cream, hun?” Jake begins to sit up, but you tug him down.

“Mac. And. Cheese.”

He blinks. “W-what?”

“Macaroni. And cheese.”

“It’s… It’s not even ten…” 

Instead of responding, you let your eyes bore into his, the intensity and need for Mac and cheese shining through. 

“You’re like pregnant lady…” Jake shakes his head with a laugh, standing up and walking to the pantry. “You want the weirdest things…”

You flop against the couch once more when you hear the box of dried macaroni rattle in his hands, happy hums slipping past your lips. 

And then you hear it.

Crunch.

Your body immediately perks up, eyes narrowing in on the culprit and the crime. “What are you eating?”

“Chips.” Jake makes a show of shoving a large tortilla chip in his mouth, crunching on it loudly. “Wan’ some?”

You could punch the motherfucker for that.

He smirks as you stand up and round the kitchen counter. “Aw, wait, I just ‘membered…”

“You asshat!” You shout, giving him a good shove as you take the box of pasta out of his hands. “Go eat your chips in the garage.”

“Hun-“

“Nope! You’re being exiled! Exiled.” Jake laughs as you swat at him, raising his arms in mock defense. “Go! Get!”

This is gonna be one hell of a long, annoying, irritating recovery.

And you’re gonna hate love every second of it.

A/N pt2: Lemme know if you want another part as time goes along with my healing and how I imagine Jakey would deal with it as time goes on :>

[doormatty3]

Veiled Passions (Josh Lambert x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Summary:

[Josh Lambert x Female Reader] [Josh Lambert x You]  After you and Josh had sex, the mutual attraction between you continues to grow stronger. You know that you should stay away from him - he’s your friend's dad, around two decades older than you and divorced. And yet, you both find yourselves irresistibly drawn to each other. So, as the year progresses, you decide to pursue a committed relationship while keeping it a secret from friends and family. But lies never live to be old - especially when they are this severe. And yet, he makes you the happiest you’ve ever been, but doubts creep in as you're reminded of the reasons you should steer clear. And when Dalton, your friend, also confesses his feelings for you, the misery deepens, complicating an already tumultuous situation. Amidst the chaos, one thing remains clear - your heart belongs to Josh Lambert. OR: Josh shows you who you belong to.

Wordcount: 11440

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, vaginal sex, smut, dirty talk, older man/ younger woman, daddy issues, face fucking, blowjob

A/N: There it is - the second part of my Josh x Reader stories. So I advise you to catch up on the first one before you read this one: Part 1: Pushing Further

Being a senior has its perks because you have the privilege to venture beyond the campus. While freshmen and those in between can also partake, the administration isn’t particularly fond of the idea.

The freedom to come and go as you please became a valuable asset, especially when it comes to visiting Josh at his house.

Josh, your friend’s father, is almost two decades your senior and divorced but also unbelievably hot and caring.

You got fortunate when you first had sex with him in Dalton and Chris’ room -  you cleaned up and then chatted until they came by. 

You still get wet when you think about that afternoon. It had been and still is, undoubtedly, the hottest thing you’ve ever done. You can still remember how it felt to have his cum inside your cunt dripping out while standing there, trying to appear normal while talking to Dalton and Chris and not like you just got absolutely wrecked by his dad.

Nevertheless, you decided unanimously that the sex in that room had been a one-time thing - the next time, he fucked you in your own dorm bed. And to avoid being caught by anyone, you decided it was safer to meet up at his place since it would have been hard to explain why he was in your room and not in his son’s. 

So far, you haven’t talked about what exactly you are, but there is a silent acknowledgement that your connection goes beyond the superficial. Perhaps fueled by an underlying fear on his part  -  a fear of potential heartache. It’s as if he sees in you the power to evoke emotions that are both thrilling and terrifying. And he’s right with that - the whatever you have has the potential of stirring up dust for both of you. 

Yet, there is a subtle yet undeniable gravitational force that draws you closer to Josh, and in turn, he reciprocates with a magnetic attraction. 

But you know that your fondness for him goes beyond mere friendship or a feeling of infatuation - you genuinely like him. 

As the year unfolds, so does the depth of your friendship with Chris and Dalton. Your bond remains steadfast, growing stronger with each shared moment. You make it a point to meet up as often as possible, cherishing the camaraderie and the sense of belonging that comes with it.

_____

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as you, Dalton, and Chris settle into your usual spot at the café. It’s a cosy haven amidst the hustle and bustle of the outside world, a place where you can relax and enjoy each other’s company.

Chris’s eyes light up with excitement as she leans forward. “Hey, guys, I was thinking,” she begins, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. “What do you say we do something fun this weekend? Maybe go on a road trip or check out that new exhibit downtown?”

Dalton nods eagerly in agreement. “That sounds like a blast! Count me in! We could even go camping if the weather’s nice.”

Your heart flutters at the thought of spending quality time with your friends, but as you consider their invitation, a pang of guilt tugs at your conscience. You already have plans for the weekend  -  plans with Josh that you can’t share with your friends.

With a regretful smile, you shake your head. “As much as I’d love to join you guys, I’ve already made plans for the weekend,” you explain, hoping they won’t press for details.

Chris raises an eyebrow, curiosity evident in her expression. “Oh? What kind of plans?”

You hesitate, knowing you can’t reveal the truth. “It’s, um, a family thing,” you reply vaguely, feeling a twinge of guilt at the half-truth. “You know how it is.”

Dalton nods in understanding, though there’s a hint of disappointment in his eyes. “No worries, we’ll catch you next time.”

As the conversation shifts to other topics, you can’t shake the feeling of unease that settles over you. Keeping secrets from your friends weighs heavily on your conscience, but the thought of betraying Josh’s trust is even more daunting.

With a heavy heart, you take a sip of your coffee, the bitter taste serving as a reminder of the complexities of your situation. As you sit in silence, lost in thought, you can’t help but wonder how long you can keep up the charade before the truth inevitably comes to light.

_____

The Saturday morning sun filters through the curtains as you make your way to Josh’s house. It’s early; the world is still waking up around you, but you’re filled with a sense of anticipation as you approach his doorstep. Each step brings you closer to the clandestine rendezvous you’ve been eagerly awaiting.

As you reach the familiar front door, you pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. You can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in your stomach, knowing that soon you’ll be wrapped in Josh’s arms, lost in the warmth of his presence.

With a steadying exhale, you reach out to knock, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air. Moments later, the door swings open, revealing Josh’s face, his eyes lighting up with a smile as he greets you.

His brown hair is tousled in a charmingly dishevelled way, and your breath catches in your throat. His stubble beard, meticulously groomed, frames his jawline perfectly, adding an air of ruggedness to his otherwise refined appearance. But it’s his piercing blue eyes, shining brightly with warmth and affection, that never fail to leave you spellbound.

Every time you lay eyes on him, it’s as if you’re struck by lightning, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of his undeniable handsomeness. His presence alone has a way of electrifying your senses, leaving you breathless and longing for more.

Dressed in a soft white shirt that hugs his toned arms and contours deliciously over his soft middle, Josh exudes an effortless allure. Paired with grey sweatpants and bare feet, he exudes a casual charm that only serves to enhance his appeal.

As you take in the sight of him standing before you, radiant and inviting, you can’t help but feel a surge of desire coursing through your veins. There’s an undeniable magnetism to him, a pull that draws you in closer with each passing moment.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice tinged with warmth. “I’m glad you’re here.”

A rush of relief floods through you at his words, dispelling any lingering doubts or anxieties. You return his smile, a sense of comfort settling over you in his presence.

“Me too,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Without another word, Josh steps aside, inviting you into his home with a gentle gesture. As you cross the threshold, you can’t help but feel a sense of familiarity wash over you, as if you belong here with him.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, Josh wastes no time closing the distance between you, his arms enveloping you in a warm, reassuring embrace. The world around you fades into insignificance as he pulls you close, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

With a gentle yet firm grasp, he tilts your chin upwards, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. And then, without a word, his lips meet yours in a kiss that ignites a firestorm of emotion within you.

His kiss is tender yet passionate, a symphony of longing and desire that pulses between you with every beat of your heart. The softness of his lips against yours sends a wave of electricity coursing through your body, igniting every nerve ending with a spark of anticipation.

As you melt into his embrace, you feel a sense of completeness wash over you, as if every piece of your being has found its rightful place in his arms. The world falls away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours, each kiss deepening the connection between you.

In that fleeting moment, nothing else matters except the overwhelming feelings that consume you. And as you bask in the warmth of his embrace, you know that this is where you belong  -  in his arms.

As you break from the hug, Josh leads you into his living room, the soft glow of the morning light bathing the room in a warm, inviting ambience. 

Both of you sit down on the cushions, and he pulls you close, sighing softly and content. As you steal a glance at him, you feel your heart flutter, and you know that this is the moment you need to talk about your feelings. 

There’s no easy way to broach the subject, no simple words to convey the complexities of your emotions.

“Josh,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, “there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

He turns to you, his blue eyes reflecting concern as he reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. “Of course, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the vulnerability of your confession. “It’s about us,” you say, the words tumbling forth hesitantly, and you see his brow furrow. “About where we stand, what we mean to each other.”

Josh listens intently, his expression a mix of understanding and apprehension - and fear. “Go on,” he urges softly, his voice trembling.

“It’s just...,” you begin, your voice faltering as you grapple with the weight of your emotions. “I care about you, Josh, more than I can put into words. But there are so many obstacles in our way.”

You pause, struggling to find the right words to convey the myriad of concerns swirling in your mind. “The age difference, the fact that you’re my friend’s dad... It’s all so complicated.”

Josh nods in understanding, his gaze softening with empathy. “I know,” he says gently, and as he continues, his voice gets quieter with every word until he is whispering. “Believe me, I’ve thought about all of that too. But none of it changes how I feel about you.”

His words wash over you like a soothing balm, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty. “I want something permanent with you,” you admit, your voice tinged with vulnerability. “Something real and lasting.”

A flicker of emotion crosses Josh’s features, his expression a mixture of tenderness and determination. “And so do I,” he replies, his voice unwavering. 

“I want us to be in a proper relationship,” he continues, his words carrying a weight that fills the room. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

The air seems to crackle with electricity as his declaration sinks in, and for a moment, you’re rendered speechless. His words echo in your mind, sending ripples of emotion cascading through your soul.

A soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you meet his gaze, your heart overflowing with warmth and affection. “I’d like that,” you say softly, your voice filled with a quiet certainty. “I’d like to be your girlfriend.”

The words feel right, settling into place like pieces of a puzzle finally coming together. In that moment, you know with absolute clarity that this is where you’re meant to be  -  in Josh’s arms, as his partner, his confidante, his love.

His face lights up with a radiant smile, his eyes alight with joy as he reaches out to take your hand in his. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. “You mean everything to me.”

As the weight of Josh’s words hangs in the air, a charged silence settles between you, filled with anticipation and longing. In that moment, without a word, he closes the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet passionate kiss.

Time seems to stand still as the world fades away, leaving only the sensation of his touch, the warmth of his embrace. His kiss is like a symphony, each movement a melody that resonates deep within your soul.

In that fleeting moment, as you melt into each other’s embrace, you’re lost in a whirlwind of sensation, every nerve ending alight with the electricity of his touch. It’s a kiss that speaks volumes, a silent declaration of the love and desire that binds you together.

And as you pull away, breathless and flushed with emotion, and Josh’s brilliant blue eyes lock with yours, a surge of electricity courses through your veins, igniting a firestorm of desire within you. Without a word, he leans in once more, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that is both urgent and tender.

His hand cups your face with a gentle yet possessive touch, his fingers tracing the contours of your cheek as if committing every detail to memory. In that moment, there’s no room for doubt or hesitation, only the raw intensity of the connection between you.

The world falls away as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours, each kiss igniting a spark of longing and passion that burns brighter with each passing moment. It’s a dance of desire, a symphony of sensation that leaves you breathless and intoxicated with need.

_____

As the weekend unfolds in a whirlwind of love and laughter, you find yourself swept up in the magic of the moments shared with Josh. Each glance, each tender touch, serves as a poignant reminder of the deep connection you share, a connection that transcends the obstacles looming on the horizon.

Despite the challenges that lie ahead  -  the age difference and the complexities of your relationship with Dalton and Chris  -  you can’t help but revel in the joy of what you and Josh have found together. 

But even amidst the euphoria of your budding romance, there’s a shadow that lingers in the recesses of your mind  -  the inevitable day when you’ll have to face the truth to confront the consequences of your choices. The thought of telling Chris and especially Dalton fills you with dread, like a Damocles sword hanging over your head, threatening to shatter the fragile peace you’ve found.

Yet, in the quiet moments shared with Josh, you find solace and strength, knowing that you’re not alone in this journey. He shares your fears and your doubts, but he’s also unwavering in his commitment to fight for what you have.

And so, hand in hand, heart in heart, you face the uncertainty of the future together, knowing that whatever challenges may come your way, you’ll confront them head-on, united in your love and determination.

As the sun sets on the blissful weekend spent in Josh’s company, a bittersweet sensation settles in the air. The time has come to bid farewell, though neither of you is quite ready to part ways.

Standing at the threshold of Josh’s front door, you exchange lingering gazes, each reluctant to break the spell of the moment. The weight of impending separation hangs heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the inevitable reality awaiting you both.

With a heavy heart, you muster the courage to speak, your voice soft but determined. “I wish this weekend didn’t have to end,” you confess, your words tinged with a hint of longing. 

Josh nods in agreement, his gaze filled with a mixture of sadness and affection. “I know,” he replies softly, reaching out to take your hand in his. “But we’ll see each other again soon, I promise.”

The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, a reassuring reminder of the bond you share. “Do you want to meet up next week?” you ask tentatively, hoping to prolong the precious moments spent together.

A shadow of hesitation crosses Josh’s features, his brow furrowing with concern. “I’d love to, but I have the kids next weekend,” he explains, his voice tinged with regret. “It’s going to be a bit chaotic.”

Your heart sinks at the realisation that your time together will be limited, but you refuse to let disappointment overshadow the moment. “That’s okay,” you say, forcing a smile despite the twinge of sadness in your chest. “We’ll find a way to make it work, even if it’s just for a little while.”

A flicker of determination crosses Josh’s features as he meets your gaze, his eyes sparkling with resolve. “How about you come over during the week?” he suggests, a hint of excitement in his voice. “We could grab dinner or just spend some time together.”

A surge of warmth washes over you at his suggestion, the prospect of seeing him again filling you with renewed hope. “I’d like that,” you reply, a genuine smile gracing your lips. “I’d like that a lot.”

His hands gently cup your face, his touch sending a wave of warmth cascading through your body.

With a soft, reassuring touch, he smooths his hands over your cheeks, his fingers tracing the contours of your face with a gentleness that speaks volumes of his affection. The sensation is electric, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a spark of desire deep within.

With a gentle yet firm grasp, he angles your head upwards, his touch guiding you with instinctual ease. His eyes, a brilliant shade of blue, meet yours with a tenderness that steals your breath away, holding you captive in a moment of unspoken connection.

And then, without a word, his lips find yours in a kiss that is both tender and passionate, a testament to the depth of the emotions that bind you together. It’s a kiss filled with longing and promise, a silent vow to cherish each moment shared between you.

In that fleeting moment, as you melt into his embrace, you’re consumed by a whirlwind of sensation  -  the softness of his lips against yours, the warmth of his touch, the overwhelming surge of emotion that threatens to swallow you whole.

“See you next week, sweetheart,” Josh breathes, his voice laced with longing and affection as you reluctantly part from his embrace.

A bittersweet smile graces your lips at his words, the endearment wrapping around your heart like a comforting embrace. “Until next week,” you reply softly, your voice echoing with the same longing that fills his.

With one last lingering glance, you tear yourself away from Josh’s warmth, a pang of reluctance tugging at your heartstrings as you step out into the cool evening air.

The weight of impending separation hangs heavy in the air as you make your way back to your dorm at university, each step a reluctant retreat from the haven of Josh’s presence. The memory of his touch lingers on your skin, a lingering reminder of the love and connection you share.

_____

The familiar aroma of coffee envelops you as you and Dalton settle into your favourite spot at the café, the gentle hum of conversation providing a soothing backdrop to your afternoon. With steaming cups cradled in your hands, you both take a moment to savour the rich, comforting warmth of the brew.

“So, something strange happened the other day,” Dalton begins, his voice breaking through the tranquil ambience of the café. You glance up, the corners of your mouth quirking into a smile as you listen to him speak.

“What’s up?” you ask, curiosity piqued by the hint of intrigue in his tone.

Dalton shifts in his seat, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “My brother was over at Dad’s place on Monday,” he explains, his brow furrowing slightly as he recalls the memory. “And he said he saw some women’s clothes in his house and so on.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, a surge of apprehension coursing through your veins. You try to maintain your composure, but the thud of your heart against your chest betrays the unease gnawing at your insides.

“Oh, really?” you reply, your voice carefully neutral despite the turmoil churning within you. “That’s... interesting.”

Dalton nods, his expression troubled. “Yeah, it is,” he agrees, his gaze fixed on the tabletop as if lost in thought. “I don’t know, it just seems weird, you know? I always thought maybe my parents would try again, but... I don’t know.”

His words hang heavy in the air between you, a palpable sense of unease settling over the table. You can sense the conflict brewing within Dalton, the uncertainty of the situation weighing heavily on his mind.

“What do you think about it?” he asks, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for reassurance amidst the storm of emotions swirling within him.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, choosing your words carefully before responding. “I can understand why you’d feel that way,” you say softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. “It’s natural to hope for your parents to reconcile, especially after everything they’ve been through.”

Dalton nods, his expression thoughtful as he processes your words. “Yeah, I guess so,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “But still, it’s just... weird, you know? I never expected Dad to have a girlfriend.”

You offer him a sympathetic smile, knowing that there are no easy answers to be found in situations like these. “It’s okay to feel that way,” you assure him, your voice gentle yet firm. “But at the end of the day, your dad deserves to be happy, just like anyone else.”

Dalton sighs, a hint of resignation in his expression as he nods in agreement. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he concedes, though you can still sense the lingering unease in his demeanour.

As you sit together in the quiet of the café, the weight of Dalton’s revelation hanging heavy in the air, you can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding creeping over you. The fear of him discovering the truth about you and his father gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, a dark shadow looming on the horizon.

But for now, all you can do is offer Dalton your support and understanding, hoping against hope that he won’t uncover the secret you’ve been desperately trying to keep hidden. And so, with a heavy heart and a silent prayer for guidance, you continue to navigate the delicate balance between truth and secrecy, unsure of what the future may hold.

Dalton fidgets with his coffee cup, his gaze fixed on the table as if lost in thought. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, his expression tentative yet determined.

“Um…I…There is something else I have been meaning to ask…” he begins, his voice hesitant as he struggles to find the right words. “I was wondering if... maybe you’d want to go out with me sometime?”

His question catches you off guard, a rush of emotions flooding through you at his unexpected proposal. For a moment, you’re at a loss for words, the weight of his request hanging heavy in the air between you.

But as you gather your thoughts, you realise that you can’t accept his invitation, not when you’re already seeing his father. The thought of hurting him further fills you with guilt, but you know that you have to be honest with him.

“I... Dalton, I appreciate the offer,” you say gently, your voice tinged with regret. “But I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

His brow furrows in confusion, hurt flickering in his eyes as he struggles to process your response. “Why not?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitate, unsure of how much to reveal. “It’s just... complicated,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “I’m already seeing someone.”

Dalton’s expression darkens, a shadow of disappointment crossing his features as he absorbs your words. “Oh,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the din of the café. “I didn’t realise...”

You reach out to place a comforting hand on his arm, offering him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Dalton,” you say softly. “I should have been clearer from the beginning. You’re a great guy, but... I just don’t have those kinds of feelings for you.”

His hurt is palpable, a tangible presence in the space between you. You can see the pain etched in the lines of his face the vulnerability in his eyes as he struggles to come to terms with your rejection.

“I understand,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion. “I just... I thought maybe...”

You can hear the hurt and confusion in his voice, and it breaks your heart to see him like this. You wish there were something you could say or do to ease his pain, but you know that some wounds run deeper than words can heal.

A furrow forms between his brows, his eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and confusion. “I... I thought you were interested too,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, we spend so much time together, and... I don’t know, I just thought...”

His words trail off, leaving an uncomfortable silence in their wake. You can see the turmoil churning within him, the weight of your revelation sinking in with each passing moment.

“I’m sorry, Dalton,” you say softly. “I never meant to lead you on. I value our friendship, but... I guess I didn’t realise how you felt.”

He nods, his expression pained as he struggles to come to terms with your words. “It’s just... it’s confusing,” he admits, his voice tinged with frustration. “I mean, you never mentioned that you were seeing someone. Not to me or Chris.”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the weight of his accusation bearing down on you. Guilt gnaws at your conscience, knowing that you’ve withheld the truth about your relationship with his father.

“It’s... it’s still pretty fresh,” you explain, your voice tinged with uncertainty. “I’m still just... figuring it out, I guess.”

Dalton’s brows knit together in confusion, his eyes searching yours for answers. “But...” he starts, a note of disbelief creeping into his voice. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

The guilt weighs heavily on your shoulders, a burden that threatens to suffocate you. “I... I don’t know,” you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I was just... keeping it private.”

Dalton’s expression remains puzzled, his confusion evident as he tries to make sense of your explanation. “So, who is it?” he presses, his tone tinged with curiosity. “Is it serious?”

You swallow hard, the weight of your deception pressing down on you like a lead weight. “Um... well, it’s someone I met recently,” you reply vaguely, your voice faltering as you struggle to find the right words. “And... yeah, it’s... it’s getting pretty serious.”

As the silence stretches between you, a heavy tension settles over the table, the weight of your deception hanging in the air. And when Dalton speaks again, his voice is tinged with a hint of sadness.

“I want to be happy for you, I really do,” he says softly, his eyes betraying a mix of hurt and resignation. “But I think I need some space to process all of this.”

Your heart sinks at his words, the realisation of the pain you’ve caused him hitting you like a punch to the gut. “I understand,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m sorry, Dalton. I never meant to hurt you.”

He nods, though the hurt in his eyes remains. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the din of the café. “I just... I need some time to figure things out.”

Before you can respond, Dalton rises from his seat, his movements stiff and uncertain. And with one last lingering glance, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone with the weight of your deception and the echoes of his pain ringing in your ears.

As Dalton’s footsteps fade into the distance, leaving you alone, a heavy silence settles over the café. The air feels thick with tension, each breath you take weighted with the guilt of your secret.

As you sit there, staring into your now lukewarm coffee, your mind races with thoughts of Dalton’s reaction when he inevitably discovers the truth about your relationship. 

The realisation that Dalton harbours feelings for you catches you off guard, adding an unexpected layer of complexity to an already delicate situation.

You had always assumed Dalton viewed you as just a friend, never once considering that his feelings might run deeper. But now, with the truth laid bare, you can’t help but wonder how he will react when he learns that you are involved with his father.

The thought churns in your stomach, a knot of anxiety tightening with each passing moment. You hadn’t anticipated the depth of Dalton’s emotions nor the potential devastation his discovery could bring. The prospect of facing his hurt and anger fills you with a sense of dread, knowing that you will be the cause of his pain.

But even as you grapple with the implications of Dalton’s feelings, you know that you cannot hide the truth from him forever. Sooner or later, he will learn the truth, and you must be prepared to face the consequences of your actions.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you contemplate the difficult conversation that lies ahead. 

But for now, all you can do is wait, trapped in the limbo of uncertainty, and pray that somehow, someway, you will find a way to navigate the tangled web of emotions that threatens to tear you apart.

With a deep sigh, you find yourself grasping for the lifeline of your phone, the urge to seek solace in Josh’s arms overpowering. Fingers trembling slightly, you unlock the screen and navigate to Josh’s contact, your heart pounding with desperate urgency, and you text him.

Hey,

Can I come over? I really need to see you right now…

Please?

The words spill from your fingertips, a plea born of desperation and the overwhelming need for solace. 

Seconds stretch into eternity as you wait for a response, each passing moment feeling too long. Then, finally, a notification flashes across your screen, and you exhale a shaky breath as you read Josh’s reply.

Of course, you can come over. Is everything okay?

Relief floods through you at his words, a wave of gratitude washing away some of the anxiety that had threatened to drown you. 

Without hesitation, you gather your belongings, the need to see your boyfriend overpowering any lingering doubts or hesitations. 

With each step towards his house, the weight on your shoulders lifts slightly, replaced by a glimmer of hope that perhaps, in his embrace, you’ll find the strength to weather the storm raging within you.

Arriving at Josh’s doorstep, you knock eagerly, the sound echoing through the quiet evening air. The door swings open, revealing Josh’s familiar silhouette framed in the soft glow of the hallway light. Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort and security.

As you sink into his arms, the weight of your troubles begins to lift, replaced by the simple reassurance of being held by someone who cares. In that moment, as you bury your face in Josh’s chest, you know that you’re exactly where you need to be.

Then, as if sensing your need for a moment of connection, Josh pulls back ever so slightly, his hands gentle as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face.

In that simple gesture, you feel a rush of gratitude and affection, a silent acknowledgement of the bond that exists between you. And before you can say a word, he leans forward, kissing your forehead softly.

The gesture sends a shiver down your spine, a tangible reminder of the depth of his care and concern for you. For a moment, you simply stand there, lost in the warmth of his touch and the softness of his lips against your skin.

With a wordless understanding, Josh steps back, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of tenderness and reassurance. He gestures for you to come inside, his silent invitation a promise of safety and comfort in the midst of the storm. With a grateful nod, you follow him into the warmth of his home.

As you settle into Josh’s living room, the weight of your troubles pressing heavily upon you, he takes a seat beside you. His blue eyes, usually so warm and inviting, now reflect a hint of concern. “So, what happened?” he asks gently, his voice a soft murmur that cuts through the silence.

“It’s about Dalton,” you continue, your words hesitant as you try to find the right way to explain. “Today, at the coffee shop... he...”

Josh’s brows furrow slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features. “He what?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, his blue eyes searching your face for any signs of what happened that left you so distraught.

“He told me that he... has feelings for me,” you admit, the weight of the confession hanging heavy in the air between you. 

 His hand freezes mid-motion, his fingers tangled in his hair, his eyes widen in surprise, and his lips part slightly as he processes your words.

“I see,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a mix of emotions you can’t quite decipher. He leans forward, his arms resting on the table, his muscles flexing slightly under the fabric of his shirt as he waits for you to continue.

You swallow hard, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on your shoulders. “I... I didn’t know how to respond,” you admit, your gaze dropping momentarily before meeting Josh’s again. “I care about him, of course, but not in the same way.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a knot form in your stomach as you gather the courage to speak your truth. “Josh,” you continue, your voice gaining strength, “I want you to know that I only want you.”

The room falls silent, the gravity of the conversation hanging heavy in the air. You watch Josh carefully, waiting for his response, the uncertainty gnawing at your insides.

His blue eyes meet yours, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty flickering within them. He leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair once more, the tousled strands falling across his forehead in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

His brow is furrowed slightly, and his lips are drawn into a thin line while the soft afternoon light filters through the window, casting a warm glow on his features and highlighting the gentle contours of his face.

For a long moment, he says nothing, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the walls of his living room. His eyes, a mesmerising shade of deep blue, reflect the turmoil of emotions swirling within him. His jaw clenches slightly, the muscles flexing beneath the surface as he grapples with his own thoughts and emotions. The silence stretches on, the tension between you growing more palpable by the second.

And then, finally, Josh’s eyes search yours, a hint of uncertainty clouding their usually bright blue depths. “Maybe... maybe someone like Dalton would be better for you,” he suggests quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The words hit you like a ton of bricks, a shockwave of disbelief rippling through your body. You stare at him, the weight of his words sinking in with a sickening finality as your heart aches at the thought of losing him.

“But Josh,” you protest, your voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t want someone like Dalton. I want you.”

He meets your gaze, his eyes filled with a sadness you can’t bear to see. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with regret. “But maybe... maybe I’m not what you need.”

The words hang in the air between you, a painful reminder of the chasm that lies between your desires and reality. You want to reach out to him, to plead with him to see things differently, but the weight of his resignation holds you back.

At that moment, you realise that no matter how much you want things to be different, you can’t force Josh to change his mind.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to come to terms with the harsh reality of the situation. You had hoped that Josh would be the one to offer you solace in your time of need, but now, it seems that even he can’t fill the void that lies within you.

With a heavy heart, you rise from your seat, the weight of your sorrow pressing down on you like a physical burden. “I should go,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Josh nods, his expression filled with a sadness that mirrors your own. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I wish things could be different.”

But as you turn to leave, a surge of frustration and anger rises within you. You refuse to accept defeat without a fight, not when he clearly wants you as much as you want him. You whirl around to face Josh, determination flashing in your eyes.

“No, Josh,” you say firmly, the intensity of your emotions rising. “I won’t accept that. I won’t settle for someone else when all I want is you.”

He looks away, his expression troubled as he grapples with his own thoughts. “I just don’t know if this is such a good idea,” he admits, his voice filled with uncertainty.

You reach across the table, taking his hand in yours, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Josh, look at me,” you say firmly, your voice filled with conviction as you wait for him to meet your eyes before continuing. “From the moment I met you, I knew there was something special between us. I wanted you then, and I want you now.”

His eyes widen in surprise at your outburst, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air between you. But you refuse to back down, the fire burning bright within you.

“I love you, Josh,” you declare, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them. “And I won’t let you push me away because you’re too afraid to face your own feelings.”

For a moment, the room is filled with a deafening silence, the tension crackling between you like electricity. And then, slowly but surely, Josh’s expression softens, his walls crumbling in the face of your unwavering resolve. He looks at you, his blue eyes searching yours for a moment before he finally speaks. 

“I... I love you too,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper and filled with a tenderness that takes your breath away. “But I’m scared, sweetheart. I’m scared of what this could mean for us. Especially now that Dalton has feelings for you.”

You step forward, closing the distance between you until you’re standing mere inches apart. With a trembling hand, you reach out to cup his cheek, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine.

“We can face this together,” you say softly, your voice filled with hope.

His gaze softens, a glimmer of affection and determination dancing in his eyes as he draws nearer. “Yes, we will,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance amidst the storm of emotions.

With his vow echoing in your ears, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a tender, desperate kiss. The initial brush of your lips ignites a fierce passion between you, each touch sparking a wildfire of desire that threatens to consume you both.

His body responds to your touch, drawing you in closer as if unable to get enough of you.

As you both lose yourselves in the passionate embrace, his hands roam over your back, pulling you nearer with each caress. His touch sends electric currents coursing through your veins, drawing you closer with an irresistible magnetism.

When he pulls back slightly with a soft groan, his eyes flutter closed, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he tries to steady himself. But the yearning between you is undeniable, pulling you back into each other’s arms with an irresistible force.

But before you can catch your breath, his lips find yours once again, reigniting the flames of passion that threaten to consume you both.

“I want you, Josh - only you,” you whisper breathlessly, the words a fervent declaration of your undying love and devotion.

His hands slide up your back, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine as he pulls you even closer as if trying to erase the space between you. You can feel the fervour in his embrace, his body trembling slightly with the intensity of his desire, his lips seeking yours with a hunger that matches your own.

“I can’t imagine wanting anyone else either, sweetheart,” Josh murmurs against your lips, his voice laced with raw emotion. “The way you make me feel... it’s indescribable.”

His words wash over you like a comforting wave, enveloping you in a cocoon of love and longing. In this moment, there is no doubt, no hesitation, only the overwhelming certainty of your connection.

With each word he speaks, you feel your heart swell with love for him, aching to express the depth of your emotions in return. But words seem inadequate in the face of such overwhelming passion, so instead, you let your actions speak for you.

You deepen the kiss, pouring all of your love and desire into the tender caress of your lips against his. as you lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of his kisses.

Feeling a surge of emotion overwhelming you, you break the kiss, your heart pounding in your chest as you take a deep breath. 

With a shaky breath, you reach out, your fingers trailing lightly over his skin as you trace the contours of his jaw. His eyes never leave yours, a silent acknowledgement passing between you as you share this intimate moment.

With trembling hands, you slowly sink to your knees before him. The gravity of the moment washes over you like a tidal wave.

Looking up at him, your eyes meet his, a mixture of love, desire, and vulnerability reflected in their depths. There’s a raw intensity between you, a silent understanding of the depth of your connection and the magnitude of your feelings.

“Josh,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, filled with a mixture of reverence and longing. “I need you. I need us.”

You begin to trace delicate patterns over the fabric of his jeans, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath. Each touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hot and fierce within your veins.

Josh watches you intently, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that makes your heart race even faster. His breath hitches slightly as your fingers dance over his legs.

You can feel the tension building between you, a palpable energy that crackles in the air around you. It’s as if the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this moment of pure connection and desire.

With each caress, you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper under his spell, lost in the intoxicating whirlwind of sensation and emotion. There’s a hunger in his eyes, a silent plea for more, and you’re more than willing to oblige.

Your touch grows bolder, more urgent, as you trace the outline of his muscles, feeling the strength and power that lies beneath his clothes. His breath comes in short, ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling with each passing moment.

And as you continue to explore his body with your fingertips, you can’t help but marvel at the beauty and complexity of the man before you. He’s so much more than just a physical being  -  he’s a soul, a heart, a mind, all wrapped up in one irresistible package.

As Josh watches before him, his eyes widen with a mix of surprise and excitement. Without hesitation, you quickly reach for the waistband of his pants, your fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper. With a swift motion, you push his trousers and boxers down to his ankles, and he steps out of them gracefully. 

His erection springs free, thick and hard, glistening with anticipation, and you can’t help but lick your lips as you take in the sight. The dim light of the room dances across his skin, highlighting every curve and contour of his muscular frame.

His breath comes in short, ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling with anticipation. There’s a hunger in his eyes, a primal desire that mirrors your own. He reaches out to you, his hand trembling slightly as he cups your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “I can’t believe you’re here with me, doing this.”

His words send a thrill coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hot and fierce within your veins. You lean into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest as you feel the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

You reach out and wrap your hand around the base of his dick, causing his breath to hitch and his eyes to roll back in his head. He is hot and heavy in your hand, thick enough that you can’t close your fingers around him as you jerk him off slowly.

After a few pumps, you swirl your tongue over the head of his cock, coating him in your saliva and tasting his precum. Josh groans lowly in his chest as you tease him with your mouth.

The whole situation turns you on beyond belief, and you really like how responsive and loud he can be - it gives you the confidence to continue and take it even further.

So you open your mouth and take the tip inside, sucking lightly as your hand continues to stroke his length. 

As Josh’s hands find their way into your hair, gently gripping the strands, you feel a rush of electricity shoot through your body. His touch is both commanding and tender, his fingers threading through your hair with a delicate precision that sends shivers down your spine.

His breath comes in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling with each ragged exhale. His eyes flutter shut, lashes brushing against his cheeks as he succumbs to the pleasure radiating from your touch.

“Christ, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice rough and strained with desire. “You know how to drive me crazy. Keep doing that, please…”

His words send a thrill coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hot and fierce within your veins. You continue to take him deeper into your mouth, relishing in the way he responds to your touch, his body trembling with anticipation.

As his fingers tighten in your hair, you feel a surge of desire and unconsciously clench your things.

The sensation of your warm mouth enveloping further causes his breath to hitch in his throat as he gasps in ecstasy.

His moans grow louder, echoing off the walls of the room as the sensation threatens to overwhelm him. “Sweetheart, that feels incredible,” he groans, his voice husky with desire.

When you run your fingernails over his balls while pleasuring him with your mouth, he bucks his hips, causing his cock to be pushed down your throat.

You gag from the sudden intrusion and instantly feel tears pooling in your eyes. 

Josh keeps his dick deep inside your mouth until he realises you’re gagging on him. His grip on your hair slackens, and his eyes widen with concern as he pulls back slightly, watching you carefully. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to push it that far,” Josh’s voice is filled with genuine concern, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

But before he can say anything more, the words tumble from your lips without a second thought. “Fuck, do it again,” you gasp, your voice hoarse with desire as you struggle to catch your breath.

His face contorts into a mix of surprise and excitement, his eyes widening in disbelief at your bold request. But he won’t hesitate for your pleasure. With renewed determination, he gently pushes his cock back into your throat.

You gag again, but this time you’re more prepared for his dick, so it’s easier to take it. His fingers tangle in your hair, a firm grip that sends a thrill down your spine as he takes control of the situation.

Looking up at him, you’re struck by the sight before you. His mouth is slightly parted, lips glistening with anticipation as his tongue occasionally darts out to moisten them. His brows knit together in concentration, a display of the focused desire that burns within him. 

Beads of sweat adorn his forehead, catching the light and casting a soft sheen over his features. His blue eyes, usually so warm and inviting, now smoulder with a fiery intensity that ignites a passionate flame within you.

As he guides your movements with a gentle yet firm hand, you feel a rush of excitement course through your veins. Each touch, each stroke, sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, building the anticipation to dizzying heights. 

In the heat of the moment, you find yourself lost in his gaze, captivated by the raw hunger that burns within him. His touch is electric, sending sparks dancing across your skin as he guides his cock deeper into your throat. 

Saliva pools around his dick and drips over your chin and onto the floor as you gag lightly with each thrust. 

Josh’s hips pick up pace as he continues to fuck your mouth, driving himself closer to climax. And as you surrender to the passion that courses through you, you know that this moment will be etched into your memory forever.

His breath is ragged, his chest rising and falling with each laboured breath as he pulls out of your mouth, his dick coated with your spit. 

Almost greedily, you take a few deep breaths to fill your lungs with air again properly as you try to steady yourself after the intensity of the moment.

Worldlessly he steps closer to you, his hard cock still glistening with your saliva and his precum, framed by his shirt that sits clings tight to his defined frame, accentuating his toned arms and soft middle.

Bending down, he presses his lips against yours, his tongue eagerly seeking entrance as he pulls you up to stand. The kiss is electrifying, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins as you lose yourself in the sensation of his touch.

With a primal need driving him, Josh breaks the kiss, his lips parting from yours as he slowly removes his shirt. As the fabric slips off his shoulders, it reveals the expanse of his chest, every muscle rippling beneath smooth skin. He tosses the shirt aside without a second thought, his gaze never leaving yours.

You follow suit, fingers fumbling with the buttons of your own shirt until it falls away, leaving you bare before him.

There’s a moment of hesitation, a fleeting pause as you drink in the sight of each other, the raw desire reflected in your eyes.  The sight of him, shirtless and exposed, sends a shiver down your spine. 

Appreciatively, you let your eyes wander over his defined, muscular arms - the play of light and shadow accentuates the contours of his muscles, creating a mesmerising display of power and grace.

As your eyes roam over his torso, your gaze is drawn to the dusting of brown and grey chest hair that adorns it. Each strand seems to catch the light, creating a subtle shimmer that adds to his allure. 

You trace the trail of hair with your eyes, following it as it leads over the softness of his middle, which is a gentle curve that speaks of warmth and comfort. It’s a stark contrast to the chiselled lines of his arms, yet somehow, it only adds to his allure. 

His skin is warm to the touch, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as he moves closer to you.

His gaze roams hungrily over your exposed skin, tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your breasts, and the line of your collarbone. 

Without a word, you step closer, closing the distance between you until you’re standing mere inches apart. His hand finds its way to the small of your back, pulling you into his form until your bodies are pressed together, skin against skin, heart against heart.

His touch is electric, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your veins as you lose yourself in the sensation of him. The fire that burns within you is fuelled by him. 

“I’m going to fuck you hard, sweetheart,” he growls, low and primal deep in Josh’s chest, sending a shiver down your spine as you feel the intensity of his desire wash over you. It’s a sound that speaks volumes, letting you know exactly what he plans to do with you in the moments to come.

His eyes, dark with passion, lock onto yours with a hunger that sets your heart racing. There’s an unmistakable longing in his gaze, a fierce desire that leaves no room for doubt about his intentions.

He lifts your legs up, resting them on his shoulders as he positions himself at your cunt.

You moan loudly when the tip of his hard, thick cock parts your slick pussy, entering you without resistance. The stretch of his dick sends shivers down your spine as he continues to push it slowly into you.

This is the first time he takes you without proper preparation - normally, he would eat you out or at least finger you before, but you can’t bring yourself to really care. 

Not when he feels so good, so right, and so big inside you.

Josh’s intense blue eyes remain fixed on you, unwavering as they drink in your every reaction. It’s as though he’s trying to memorise every detail of your face, committing the moment to memory as he loses himself in the depths of you.

You mewl when he bottoms out deep in your cunt, filling you completely. 

“You feel so good, Josh,” you whisper breathlessly, your chest heaving with desire. “Please, move.”

Your words hang in the air, thick with longing and anticipation, as you await his response. Josh’s gaze darkens with desire, his lips parting slightly.

With a low growl of approval, he shifts his weight, his movements deliberate and controlled as he begins to move against you, his hips setting a steady, deep rhythm. The sensation of his body moving with yours sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

As he moves, his hands roam over your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You gasp at the sensation of his touch, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

With each movement, the pleasure builds, the tension between you reaching a fever pitch as you both give in to the undeniable chemistry that burns between you. At this moment, there is nothing else in the world, but the two of you lost in a sea of desire and passion.

And as you cling to each other, consumed by the heat of the moment, you know that this is just the beginning of a night that promises to be filled with ecstasy and bliss.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, his voice hoarse with desire. “Take it.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire deep within you as you move together in perfect harmony. Every touch and every movement is electric, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you with each passing moment.

“God, you’re so hot,” he groans, his eyes locked on your heaving chest. His words only fuel the flames of passion between you, driving you both to new heights of ecstasy. 

His thrusts become more forceful, each one driving deeper into your pussy. The smell of your sweat mingles with the slick sounds of our skin slapping against each other.

He slowly lowers his head, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking hard, igniting every nerve ending it touches with a searing intensity. You arch your back, a moan escaping from your lips as he teases the sensitive nub with his tongue.

His lips follow, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake, each one leaving you gasping for breath.

“You’re so damn responsive for me,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. His hands roam freely over your body, tracing the curves and contours with a possessive urgency that sends a thrill down your spine as he moves to capture the other nipple between his teeth gently.

“Only for you, just you,” you mewl, your voice barely a whisper as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure washing over you.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he grunts out, his words punctuated by the soft sounds of his lips trailing lower, his breath hot against your skin. 

His hands grip your thighs tightly as he drills into you, his cock hitting all the right spots inside you.

You feel like he electrifies you, setting every nerve ending ablaze with a tantalizing intensity. With each caress, each whispered word, each deep thrust, he ignites a fire deep within you, stoking the flames of desire until they burn with an almost unbearable intensity. 

You feel yourself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building with each passing moment until you’re on the brink of losing yourself entirely to the intoxicating sensation he evokes within you, your cunt clenching around him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” his voice is rough with desire as he encourages you, each word sending a jolt of electricity through your body as he pushes deeper and faster into you. 

His chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, the exertion of pleasure etched across his features as sweat beads on his forehead glistening in the dim light.

“Nobody fucks me like you do. Nobody pleases me like you do,” you stammer, your words a mixture of moans and gasps, “You feel so good, Josh.”

“You belong to me,” he growls possessively, his voice thick with desire and dominance, his hips slamming against yours as he takes you roughly. The headboard of the sofa thuds against the wall with each powerful thrust.

His eyes, darkened with desire, lock onto yours, his gaze filled with intensity as he thrusts deeper into you. He dominates you with a primal energy, his every touch igniting a fire within you. As the pleasure builds, you feel yourself getting closer to climax, the intensity of the moment overwhelming yet exhilarating.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you feel the tension building within you, reaching a fever pitch. “I’m so close,” you whimper, the desperation evident in your voice.

His own breath comes in ragged gasps as he urges you on, his voice a deep growl of desire. “Let it all go, sweetheart,” he encourages, his hands gripping your hips as his hips thrust rapidly into you and his thumb finding your clit to rub rough circles. “I want to feel you come apart in my arms.”

With his encouragement ringing in your ears, you give yourself over to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through your body. Every nerve ending is alight with sensation as you tumble over the edge, waves of ecstasy crashing over you in relentless waves.

He watches you with hunger in his eyes, his own release imminent as he follows you into oblivion. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own climax. “Let me feel you.”

With one final, desperate cry, you shatter into a million pieces, the intensity of your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave as his name falls from your lips over and over. And as you collapse against him, spent and sated, his fingers dig into your hips for better control as he drives into you one last time.

He releases himself into you, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm. His hot seed pumps into you, filling every inch of your tight cunt as he loses control completely.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes heavily, still buried deep inside you. You feel your pussy clenching and throbbing, pulsating with the aftermath of your orgasm, milking his aching dick. 

With your bodies still intertwined, he holds you close, unwilling to let go of the intimate connection you’ve just shared. His chest rises and falls in sync with your own, the rhythm of his breath gradually steadying as the euphoria of your shared passion begins to ebb. His cock remains inside you, refusing to let go of the warmth that is your pussy.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he pants, his voice husky with emotion as he continues to hold onto your hips as his dick twitches inside you, slowly softening. “You’re incredible, sweetheart.”

Your heart swells with affection at his words, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you in a sense of security and belonging. “You’re incredible, Josh,” you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you nestle closer to him.

“I love hearing that,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin as he slowly withdraws from you. 

His cock slides out with a wet pop sound, leaving behind a trail of their mixed juices on your thighs. His gaze lingers on you, filled with a mixture of adoration and desire, as his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he says, his voice thick with desire, his eyes tracing the curves of your body with unabashed admiration. He reaches down, his fingers brushing against your wet and well-fucked cunt, and a soft moan escapes his lips as he feels the warmth of your juices mingled with his own.

His lips find yours in a tender kiss, a silent testament to the depth of his affection.

As you break apart, Josh’s blue eyes sparkle with a mixture of adoration and gratitude, the soft light of the room reflecting off their depths like a shimmering pool. His skin is dewy with sweat, a sheen of moisture glistening on his smooth complexion as he leans in to kiss you once more.

His muscles flex beneath the surface of his skin, the sinewy lines of his arms defined and sculpted from years of hard work and dedication. You run your fingers lightly over his torso, tracing the contours of his body with a sense of wonder and appreciation. 

Josh’s hair is sweaty and tousled, strands of brown falling haphazardly across his forehead as he leans in to kiss you again. His breath is warm against your skin, his touch gentle yet possessive as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a sense of urgency and desire, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and protection.

His stubbled jaw clenches with a mixture of desire and restraint, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggles to contain the intensity of his emotions.

As you lose yourself in the moment, the sound of footsteps echoing through the house brings you back to reality with a jolt. Panic courses through you as you scramble to dress, the urgency of the situation pressing in on you like a suffocating weight.

Josh moves quickly, reaching for his shorts and tossing you his shirt as you both try to cover yourselves before the inevitable confrontation. 

But it’s too late. Before you can even process what’s happening, the door swings open, revealing Dalton standing in the doorway, his expression a mask of shock and betrayal.

Your heart sinks as you meet his gaze, the guilt of being caught washing over you like a tidal wave. Shame burns hot in your cheeks as you shrink back, trying to make yourself as small as possible in the face of Dalton’s accusing glare.

“Wha- What the hell is this?” Dalton stammers, his voice filled with disbelief as he takes in the scene before him.

But Josh steps in front of you, his protective instincts kicking in as he shields you from Dalton’s wrath. His jaw is set with determination, his blue eyes blazing with a fierce intensity as he meets Dalton’s gaze head-on.

“Dalton,” he says firmly, his voice tinged with warning. 

But Dalton’s eyes are filled with hurt and betrayal as he looks between the two of you, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place in his mind. His anger is palpable as he takes in the sight before him, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggles to contain his emotions.

“I can’t believe this,” he says bitterly, his voice trembling with emotion. “I confessed my feelings to you, and this is what you do? Fucking my father?”

The accusation hangs heavy in the air between you, casting a shadow over the fragile happiness you had shared just moments before. His words cut deep, a stark reminder of the tangled web of emotions and secrets that now threatens to unravel before you.

Josh’s jaw tightens, his eyes flashing with a mixture of frustration and regret as he struggles to find the right words. “Dalton, I... I never meant to hurt you,” he begins, his voice heavy with remorse. “I know this is difficult to understand, but...”

But Dalton’s fury is unrelenting, his eyes blazing with a fire that threatens to consume everything in its path. “Difficult to understand? You’re sleeping with my friend, Dad.” he retorts, his voice laced with bitterness. “She could be your daughter!”

The accusation cuts deep, slicing through the fragile facade of peace and happiness that you had clung to just moments before. Shame washes over you in waves, threatening to drown you in its suffocating embrace as you struggle to find the words to defend yourself.

You feel a pang of guilt at the hurt in Dalton’s eyes, knowing that you are the cause of his pain. But before you can offer an explanation, he turns to you, his gaze filled with betrayal. “And you,” he says, his voice trembling with emotion. “I thought I could trust you. I thought you cared about me.”

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, the weight of Dalton’s accusation crushing you beneath its weight. “Dalton, I...” you begin, your voice faltering as you search for the right words. But the damage has already been done, the rift between you widening with each passing moment.

But Dalton shakes his head, his eyes clouded with anger and confusion. “I don’t want to hear it,” he says bitterly, his voice barely above a whisper.

But before you can speak again, Josh reaches out, his hand finding yours in a gesture of comfort and support. Instantly, you feel a sense of reassurance wash over you, the warmth of his touch offering solace in the midst of chaos.

Dalton recoils at the sight, his face contorted with disgust at the intimate gesture. “I can’t believe you would do this to me, Dad. And you,” he adds, turning his gaze to you, “you should be ashamed of yourself.”

With that, he turns and storms out of the room, leaving you and Josh alone in the wake of his departure. The silence that follows is deafening, a stark reminder of the pain and heartache that now fills the space between you.

Josh squeezes your hand gently, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted things to end up like this.”

You nod as your heart is heavy with guilt and uncertainty. “I know,” you reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “But we have to find a way to fix this. For Dalton’s sake and for ours.”

Josh nods in agreement, his expression filled with determination. “I’ll talk to him,” he says firmly, his eyes meeting yours with unwavering resolve. “I’ll make him understand.”

A sense of hope stirs within you. The road ahead may be difficult, but with Josh by your side, you know that together, you can overcome any obstacle that stands in your way.

[rejectedbytheempty]

Request: How about there being a difference between Simon Riley and Ghost?? GN reader having the privilege of knowing Ghost as a man who bleeds and the immortal legend of horror. They’ve gotten close enough (never close enough to be considered a relationship, but platonic enough to be essential to each other’s sanity, Simon’s always been at a distance) and are roommates off base/out of service.

There’s a severe thunderstorm coming — and Simon Riley doesn’t particularly like the clashing winds and thunder. It feels like the house is rattled and threatening to come down. (C-PTSD? Angst with comfort? Simon becomes little spoon? Make some tea to comfort him? Maybe?)

a/n: oh dear, this made me weirdly sad while writing this?? like i almost cried, i think it’s bc i’m on my period. also, sorry, didn’t really include the thunderstorm thing?? i can write a separate fic for that if you want!!!

Anyone who knows Ghost knows that there is a difference between Ghost and Simon Riley.

For example, you always thought that Ghost looked taller than Simon, even though you knew it was physically impossible. Even when wearing the same boots, Ghost just seemed larger.

At first, you were, to put it mildly, scared shitless of Ghost. The way he towered over everyone, his hulking presence looming behind you as he watched you silently. He would stare, never seemed to blink. People joked that he was cataloguing information, gathering everyone’s strengths and weaknesses. When you were in the field it scared you just how quiet he was, how easy it was for him to slip into the shadows. Didn’t help that he never talked to you much in the beginning, except for the occasional grunt of acknowledgement.

The day you finally met Simon was when you both were on a reconnaissance mission. Somehow, everything went south and in the chaos, Ghost was hit. He had grumbled about leaving him behind, but you saw it, the slight look of fear in his eyes. This was a man who realized just how close to death he was, who had a human desperation to live that choked his words. You ended up basically dragging him to the extraction point, where you both promptly passed out.

Ever since that day, Ghost had become Simon. You saw the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled behind his mask. The way that he loved to make stupid jokes. How he bounced his leg in long meetings.

In the months following, he and you had become close friends. When you had been looking for an apartment off base, it had been only natural to live with Simon. You two each had your own bedroom but it had become habit to share the bed, limbs entangled, chests rising and falling in sync. It scared away the nightmares.

Everyone at base was always trying to figure out what your deal was with Ghost, asking if you were dating. You just shrugged, leaving them to wonder. It was strange, what you had with Simon, you knew that. Weirdly codependent. It didn’t bother you, you were perfectly fine with how things were. You didn’t need anything more than your quiet moments, your quick hand squeezes, the times you had traced the scars on his face with your finger.

You had Simon Riley, and he had you, and that was enough.

[whatmitskisongarethey]

In honor of the book of bill, my first post will be bill cipher!

I’ve assigned him “Should’ve Been Me”. The song’s upbeat sound, the drums and bass paired with the… I think it’s a piano on some sort of synth setting? It all sounds very 80’s and reminds me a lot of Bill. It’s kind of chaotic if you really listen - sometimes the sounds meld together. Now, let’s get on to the lyrics! Mind you, I haven’t fully watched Gravity Falls in years. I was like 12 when it came out. So I’m still trying to remember everything about Bill’s character lol…

Bill is a very lonely triangle. Even though he had friends and family at one point, there’s nobody he can reeeally talk to (‘and I found I had no one to tell’). What is the strange serenity / overwhelming clean feeling that he can’t tell? I interpreted it as the power he gets especially during Weirdmageddon. The freedom? The chaos? Not sure.

These verses remind me so much of Bill and Stanford’s relationship in the book.

“You wanted me but couldn’t reach me” Ford referring to bill as his muse, once getting along with him (maybe a bit too much. what the hell happened on karaoke night?!) but now not being able to reach him. He is too far gone.

“So I went into your memory, relived all the ways you still want me” There’s a point in the book where Bill literally possesses Ford’s mind (‘went into your memory’) and makes him do crazy shit. Bill also speaks directly into his mind, making him think that he has nobody except him, (‘relived all the ways you still want me’ needed me!!) threatening him, typical crazy ex stuff.

I interpreted the girl as being Mabel. He directly says in the book that he relates to Mabel as she’s an agent of chaos. (‘When I saw the girl looked just like me’)

He however feels pity for Mabel and Dipper. Well, maybe not pity. I don’t know if he has the capacity for that. He at the very least acknowledges them being kids going through all these traumatic things. (‘trying to find their way out of a maze.’ the maze being the struggle to survive, as shown by all the timelines where they don’t live.)

These lyrics were harder. Who has power over Bill??

The axolotl! I interpreted the hand as being the axolotl placing Bill in therapy. (‘a labyrinth, where I’d be stuck a while’.)

Repetition is big in Mitski songs. We see that Bill kind of goes crazy, repeating “I’m fine”, (‘it should’ve been me’) almost as if to convince himself.

I interpreted these final lines as being his cry of jealously, in a way. It should’ve been me, my plan for the world. Me! ME!

Here are my second and third choices for Bill:

Thank you all for reading. Do you agree with my choice? Do you disagree? Let me know!

[voxofthevoid]

Ch 248 is once again a mixed bag for me. On the bright side, it has a development I've been looking forward to the most since Sukuna left Yuuji's body—Sukuna acknowledging the effect Yuuji has on him. Until now, he's mocked and belittled Yuuji, deeming him weak and boring, except that the specific brand of vitriol Sukuna reserves for Yuuji has made it very clear that his beef with Yuuji is a lot more personal than his conflict with any other character. There's a pettiness there, a kind of irritation that's borderline childish, that wouldn't be present if Yuuji didn't well and truly get under his skin.

So to see Sukuna take a moment in the middle of battle, complete with arms on his hips and a goddamn pout, to reassess himself, his ideology, and his enemies and their goals, all to figure out why Yuuji irritates him and then to see him conclude that it's because Yuuji has indomitable will that he can't stomp down? It's sweet, sweet vindication. Sukuna's immediate resolution to tear that will down with, again, a kind of personal vendetta we rarely see from him marks the exact kind of fight I want out of Yuuji vs. Sukuna.

And Yuuji himself has been a sight to behold despite his relatively fewer scenes so far, from his final moments with Higuruma to the reveal that he can use RCT. His greatest strengths so far have been how quickly he grasps CE usage and now attuned he is to his body. The two combined is what's made him so lethal despite the lack of a CT or even advanced techniques like simple domain. RCT fits quite neatly with the kind of power progression he's shown so far, and combined with his natural durability and sheer resilience, it'll make him even more of a monster.

These are elements I'm very happy with. However, this chapter confirms Kenjaku's end and sets up Sukuna as the final villain, and that's... underwhelming at best. I'm not complaining that Sukuna isn't a particularly complicated villain; it's refreshing and suits how he's presented himself from the beginning. But part of what compensated for one villain being like that was the other being a mad scientist with a pretty cunning mind who kept plotting and planning with every tool in their arsenal. You could trust Kenjaku to keep things interesting while they sought the chaos they dearly wanted, and even the merger coming from them would've had certain meaningful implications because not only is it a dream they strived to fulfil for centuries, but it's also a way to see them finally "let go" of Tengen after exhibiting some fascinating attachment behaviors with her. That authority passing on to Sukuna is about as impactful as Yuuta killing Kenjaku—that is, not at all.

The Yuuta+Rika vs. Sukuna fight that's currently being teased makes me wary for similar reasons. It lacks the buildup Gojou vs. Sukuna had (battle of the strongest, i.e., clash of two immense fucking egos), and another contest of raw power sounds about as appealing as watching paint dry right now. Maybe it'll surprise me, but I'm not holding my breath.

To compare this to Shibuya, the emotional component that made its climax so compelling is almost entirely missing from this fight. It's there in Yuuji facing off against someone who took Megumi and Gojou from him, like how he fought the curse that took Nanami and Nobara from him, but overall, the deaths feel hollow and the stakes are so impossibly high that they start to feel like nothing at all.

I can't even fully capture what I'm feeling. It's not that I'm not looking forward to the upcoming chapters; I am. It's not even that I think the plot and climax are unsalvageable; they are, to an extent. But by this point, the plot fumblings and wasted potential have added up to a looming shadow I can't ignore even when there are parts I'm genuinely excited about.

[dp-marvel94]

Sweet Reconciliation

Summary:

The last thing Danny expected was Phantom showing up at his front door and dragging him out for a day at the fair. He certainly didn’t want to hang out with 'Dan', much less trust him. But finding himself enjoying a day of rides and games? Sharing quips and food and heart-felt confessions? Maybe he and Dan have more in common than Danny realized.

Word Count: 9,217

Also on AO3

Notes:

It's finally here! I'm so excited to be posting my Valentine's Core Exchange. My giftee was @strawberry-avalanche . I went for a Danny & Dan centric fic, with some fluff, bonding, and redemption. I hope you enjoy this not-so-short story of Danny and Dan enjoying a day at the fair. Happy Reading! @valentines-core-exchange

Finally, it was a perfect Saturday, Danny thought. After all the chaos of time restructuring, his ghostly alter ego becoming number one on the most wanted list again, and learning how to help the ghosts instead of just fighting them, finally the half ghost had a day to himself. There was no one to bother him. His parents were out of town at a conference, his sister on a college tour. Vlad was out of his hair, busy with his new ward, a certain (formerly?) evil alternate Phantom. Best yet, he had plans with Sam and Tucker, an all day movie binge with all the popcorn and candy he could eat. Everything was absolutely perfect.

The boy bent down in his chair, tying his shoes to leave, when an insistent knocking came at the front door. 

His brow furrowed; his friends weren’t supposed to be meeting him here, were they?

Another knock came, this one more forceful.

Danny stood, calling. “I’m coming.” He hurried across the kitchen, a second later pulling the door open. “Weren’t we meeting at S-”

The boy blinked, cutting himself off in his confusion. There, on the other side of the door was… himself. Or at least, the figure looked like him. The other teen wore all black, gothic look complete with eye-liner and half a dozen ear piercings. And a familiar scowl.

With that last piece of the puzzle, the answer fell into place. “Phantom?” Danny’s mouth fell open.

“Actually, it’s Dan.” His double shrugged, still scowling.

“Dan…” The boy said slowly. Was this really happening?

The other teen, at least in appearance, didn’t acknowledge the word. Instead, his eyes flickered to the house behind. An odd look flashed in them for a second before a forcible disaffection shifted into place. “You’re not doing anything today, right? Good.”

That broke Danny out of his disbelieving stoop. He stood up straighter, eyes narrowed in distrust. “Actually, I was going to-”

A hand suddenly pulled him out the door, distracting him from his protest. “We’re going to the fair.”

Danny blinked once. “What?”

“The Fair.” Phantom said slowly, like he was stupid. “What, got cotton in your ears?”

“I heard you.” Danny pulled his hand away, arms crossing. “Why?”

The other rolled his eyes. “Vlad is driving me crazy. So I stole his credit card.” With a flash of sharp teeth, he swiped out said card. “I’m gonna eat all the disgusting greasy food I want, cheat at some carnival games, and ride the squirrel cages ‘til I throw up.”

“Have fun?” Danny’s nose scrunched; why exactly was ‘Dan’ telling him this? Not that he cared, on his one day off in months. With a head shake, he pointed back into the house. “Whatever. Knock yourself out. I’m gonna-”

“No you don’t.” Phantom grabbed his arm again. “You’re coming with me.”

The movement gave Danny pause. That hand wrapped around his bicep, the solid warmth of it… he knew that Vlad had stabilized Phantom in this timeline using a human clone of himself, making the figure in front of him a half ghost again. But actually seeing the reality in front of him was another thing entirely. And the demand…  “Why?”

The only answer was another eye-roll. Instead, Phantom started pulling Danny down the sidewalk. And the boy found himself following. He could keep arguing; a large part of him wanted to. He could even easily pull away – the other halfa’s grip wasn’t all that tight– but he didn’t resist. 

Instead, Danny followed his counterpart into the alley beside Fentonworks.

Hand still around his arm, familiar white rings appeared around the other’s waist. They spread, the warm light tickling Danny's skin in an eerie reflection of his own transforming light. He stiffened, watching.

His double changed, corpse blue skin replacing the human tone. Shoulder-length black hair flickered to white flames. Familiar icy blue eyes became blood red. 

Danny couldn’t help but flinch, the image playing behind his eyes, if in reverse. Cords of burning ecto energy binding him. A hellish warping of his own face, looming menacingly over him. Those same white rings, enfolding the figure into a smaller mirror image. So much worse than the towering monster -the nightmare of his enemy taking his place and hurting his loved ones.

The corpse-blue reflection filled his vision again. But now… they were truly eye to eye.

Phantom, teen-sized and equally scrawny, released him. His hard expression wavered for just a moment, brow furrowed, almost… remorseful. He stepped back. After a pause… 

“Well? Aren’t you going to ‘go ghost’?” The air quotes were audible, with more than a hint of derision. 

And yet, Danny felt his shoulders lowered ever so slightly, the anxious tamper of his heart easing. He summoned his own rings, turning into ghost form.

The two lifted from the ground, silently flying towards the fairgrounds. Danny followed his counterpart’s lead, eyes fixed on the back of the flaming head. The other ghost didn’t turn and look, gaze fixed on their destination. And that destination…

Soon, the colorful tents and rides rose into view. Music and laughter drifted through the air. Despite his swirling nerves, Danny couldn’t help the up-turned twitch of his lips.

“Here.” Phantom said gruffly, breaking Danny from his observation. The other half ghost pointed down, landing between two trailers. With a flash of light, he turned human again.

Danny did the same. A quick text to his friends to tell them where he was instead of handing out with them, and he was following his counterpart out of the fair employees’ parking lot and to the ticket counter. Phantom, surprisingly politely, bought two tickets. They passed through the gate, a cheery older woman giving the even-faced halfa a map. 

“Where to first?” Danny asked, hands in his pockets. He gave a deceptively casual shrug.

The other didn’t look up for a long moment, nose buried in the map. His brow wrinkled in contemplation, like this was the most important decision he’d ever make. 

Then, he pointed. “There. I need to see the biggest pumpkin in the state.”

Danny raised a brow, but he didn’t question. Wordlessly, he followed the other half ghost through the crowds and into a large white building. They passed through the door, the crowded barn smelling musty, of straw and barnyard animals. 

All the while, Phantom’s even severe expression didn’t change. Flat faced and silent, his eyes flitted over the giant pumpkins and watermelons. Slowly, he walked along the rows of painted gourds and prize-winning apples. Through the bee-keeping display. Passed the glass case holding someone’s grandma’s first place honey candy. 

Straw-floored pens held bleating lambs and wide-eyed calves. These didn’t crack that disaffected scowl. Nor the tiny piglets. Not even the fluffy baby chicks.

All the while, Danny’s stomach churned with conflict. Earlier he’d flippantly thought he didn’t care what ‘Dan’ did but that was a lie. Now his muscles pulled tense, ill at ease. His mind flickered back to the fight, to throwing down the thermos. The realization of how cruel, how unfair it would be to imprison the ghost in front of him again. 

And now… said ghost was watching a carton of eggs under heat lamps. Around him, small children pressed curious palms to the glass. 

Danny had decided not to lock Phantom up again. He’d chosen to give ‘Dan’ a second chance. He’d agreed to Vlad’s plan to help the other ghost. And he desperately hoped, desperately wanted to believe it was for the best. But… 

“Mommy! Chicky!” A little girl enthusiastically pointed at one egg sporting a tiny hole.

But… Danny certainly didn’t want to hang out with his counterpart. He remembered…. The graves, the rubble, the crazed laughter. The nightmares he’d had for months after seeing that ruined future. The twisted bodies, his own hands covered in blood, the world aflame.

And now, the author of that ruin was here. And frankly, Danny didn’t trust him. Of course he didn't. And here in public, around so many children…. The thought was making his stomach turn.

A finger gently tapped the glass of the incubator. Danny tensed, carefully eyeing the other half ghost. Power swirled in his core, ready to intervene if necessary.

“There you go.” The words were almost so low to be inaudible, spoken toward the glass, to the hatching egg. 

Danny’s energy stilled even so slightly. He watched his counterpart, head tilted. 

Phantom just stood there, watching. “Good job, little guy.” Something sparked in his eyes. Just the subtlest wrinkle of his brow, the twitch of his lips….

The other half ghost felt something in his loosen. Hardly even realizing it, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

Suddenly, the other’s head turned sharply. “What are you looking at?”

Just like that, the moment broke. Innocently, Danny raised his hands. “What’s next?”��

Phantom huffed, eyes narrowed. He whipped out the map, studying it again. “Pig races.” He answered curtly, turning and walking away without a look back. Of course, Danny followed.

Phantom demanded they find some pig races to watch, and they did. A short walk found the two at the sawdust covered track. Metal bleachers surrounded the arena, crowded with people. Tired parents with strollers, carrying bags of cotton candy and huge stuffed animals. An old couple, the husband in a trucker hat, the wife carrying an oversized bag. A few twenty somethings, scandalously eating pork barbeque in front of the pigs.

The two half ghosts managed a seat on the end of the bench, beside a little boy wearing a tiny plastic pig nose and vibrating with excitement.

“When are the piggys gonna race, Daddy?” The child bothered his father, who patiently showed him the time again. 

“One more minute.” The man ruffled his son’s hair. 

Just then, the sound of a trumpet sounded. The announcer swaggered into the center. “It’s Pig Racin’ Time!” The southern accent came on long and thick. “Good morning and welcome pig racing fans to the Hogway Speedway…”

With wide spread arms and charming enthusiasm, their host masterfully engaged the crowd. He introduced the racers, hogs punnifuly named after different Nascar drivers. The trumpet sounded again, the crowd shouting the name of their section’s chosen racer. And the pigs were off.

Danny watched his counterpart much more than the sprinting pigs. Phantom’s eyes followed the track, lips pressed closed and even. The expression was strange; it wasn’t that ‘Dan’ didn’t want to be there. It was like he was unsure…

“Hamica!” The little boy sitting to Phantom’s side shouted above the crowd. “Go Hamica!” The child jumped out of his seat. 

The sound swelled, the cheering and stomping shaking the benches. The little boy hopped up and down, small body carelessly slamming into Phantom in his excitement.

For just a moment, Danny’s breath caught again. Then….

“Number 10! Hamica Patrick wins!” The announcer shouted while the pigs gobbled up their prize of cheese doodles. 

“Our piggy won!” The little boy clapped. “She won! Did you see?” He turned to Phantom, starry eyes blind to the halfa’s tense posture. 

Wait. Why was the other half ghost tense?

The child continued. “She won! Everyone was cheering so loud and our piggy won.” 

“Yeah…” Phantom finally answered quietly, giving an almost sad shrug.

With that, the boy lowered his raised hands. “You weren’t cheering.” Lips pursed seriously; maybe he was picking up on the seeming-teen’s odd mode. “You havta cheer next race. Everyone's supposed ta cheer!”

Meanwhile the boy’s father was giving apologetic looks, trying to get his son’s attention back to the race. “The duck’s are going next. Don’t you want to see?”

The boy pointed at ‘Dan’ demandingly. “You havta cheer.”

“Alright, Alright.” Phantom put up his hands and… he smiled. “I’ll cheer.” 

Again, Danny felt like he was looking at an alternate reality. His counterpart was smiling. Not malicious or teasing. Nor mocking or crazed but…

“I’ll cheer. But…” That genuine smile cracked brighter. “You have to cheer even louder. So loud everyone’s eardrums bleed.”

Well… he was being a little macabre. But the little boy was laughing brightly all the same. 

And Phantom kept his word. “Oinkheart! You better run!” He did cheer, as loud and enthusiastic as any other pig racing fan.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Danny’s own even lips cracked into a smile. He cheered too, just as loud as Phantom.

The pigs races finished, the host announcing the next show while selling plastic pig noses and pooping pig keychains to the parents of excitable kids. Then a quick trip to the ATM and Phantom pulled Danny towards the fair games. 

“That one.” The black clad ghost’s eyes fixed on a wall of balloons. Various prizes including a five feet long stuffed shark hung from the stall.

Phantom handed over a few bills. He fingered the darts, carefully aiming with furrowed brow. He threw, the projectile sailing straight for its target. “Yes!” He cheered, only for the dart to harmlessly hit the balloon and fall. 

Danny frowned suspiciously, unintentionally mirroring the other half ghost. Still both said nothing. Instead, Phantom just threw the rest of his darts. One by one, each failed to pop a balloon.

“Come on.” Danny shook his head knowingly. “Let’s try another game.” Trust that the first one they try would be rigged.

“No.” Phantom grumbled, giving the attendant a few more bills. “I’m going to get it.”

Again, the seeming-teen carefully tested the aim of the dart, fixed on his target. Then… his gaze shifted for just a second, fixing on the other half ghost. His eyes flashed red, a purposeful smirk in them. Danny's brows furrowed in question.

The dart flew through the air, again harmlessly bouncing off the balloon and falling. Except this time, a second later the rubber sphere popped with a startling bang.

Danny flinched, shocked. For just a moment, a misty person-shaped outline wavered in front of the wall, a long clawed finger outstretched toward the balloon’s carcass.

Phantom smirked, self satisfied. Then his knees buckled.

Before he could register, Danny’s arms were wrapping around his counterpart’s shoulders, stabilizing the other half ghost.

“Is he okay?” The attendant asked, eyes wide with concern.

Was Phantom okay? He frowned down at the pale, shaky figure. His stomach flopped, feeling unbalanced. What was happening? 

Danny shook the unease away. “He’s fine. Just needs something to drink.”

The fair worker still looked worried, brows furrowed, but didn’t argue as Danny started pulling Phantom away.

“Wait. I won.” The other complained. “My shark.”

Danny gave him a dubious look but without a word, accepted the giant plushie from the worker. Holding the shark under one arm, he helped Phantom forward with the other. True to his excuse, he did steer them towards a truck selling lemonade. The two slid to the window, Danny handing over the money.

“I can stand by myself.” Phantom grumbled, just as the server handed over the two cups.

Unceremoniously, Danny unhanded his counterpart who ripped the shark from his grip. 

For a few minutes, the two silently shuffled forward, finally finding an empty bench. They sat, drinking their drinks. Phantom wouldn’t meet his eyes, head fixed down, almost as if embarrassed.

Finally, Danny broke the tense moment. “What was that about?”

The other seeming-teen looked up tentatively, almost sheepish, before shrugging forcibly casual. “I said I wanted to win at some carnival games. Don’t give me shit about it.”

Danny shook his head. “No. You almost fainted. Because you were, what, using a duplicate to cheat at balloon darts?”

“It’s not a big deal.” ‘Dan’ made a point of looking at his fingernails. “Just over did it. Stupid… I need to be more strategic next time.”

“Or just.. Not use your powers to cheat?” 

Phantom’s eyes narrowed. “I said not to give me crap.” His arms crossed, the perfect picture of a petulant teen. “It’s not like I started melting this time.”

Danny’s eyes popped wide. “That doesn’t make it any better!”

“Like you give a shit.” The other halfa sneered. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague. I’m stuck here, shoved in this tiny, scrawny body. With all the hormones and the acne and my powers barely working. It’s like I actually am a kid again. The fruitloop keeps trying to act like he’s my dad now, making me go to therapy and shit.” His hands waved, pointing at Danny. “And you’re off, doing god knows what, playing the hero. Trying to completely forget about me.”

Danny’s mind spun, trying to process the onslaught. That last part… “Wait, that’s not-”

“This was a mistake.” Phantom stood abruptly. “I see how you keep tensing up whenever I do anything. Like I’m five seconds away from ripping everyone’s head off.” He grabbed his lemonade and stuffed shark. “I don’t know why I even bothered. I wanted to tell you, show you that I was-.” He growled, cutting himself off. “Go do what you want.” The half ghost turned, stomping off.

For a long second, Danny just stared after him, thoughts churning. The other’s figure grew farther and farther away. Then…

“Wait!” Danny’s mind clicked back into action. “Wait!” He jumped up, running after his counterpart. “Dan! Wait!” 

Within seconds, he caught up. “Dan.” And wasn’t that strange, using the name the other half ghost had given him for the first time. Danny shook away the thought. “Dan. I’m… I’m sorry.”

Phantom… Dan stopped walking, giving him a dubious look. “Yeah right.”

“No, I am sorry. You showed up at my house and dragged me here because you actually want to hang out with me, right?” 

Dan didn’t respond verbally, just gave the ‘you’re stupid’ look again. 

Danny didn’t let that cow him, instead forcing himself to continue. “You’re… you’re right, I have been ignoring you. And that’s not fair. I can’t even imagine why you want to spend time with me but…” The flickers of hurt in Dan’s face, the tension like… he was afraid of miss-stepping. Reasons churned in his head, nebulous and indistinct but so close to focus. His guts twisted; he wasn’t ready to face this, whatever this was. 

“But you do.” Danny continued. “And we’re here. So let’s buy some greasy food, ride some rides, and play more games. But no more cheating.” He pointed severely.

For just a moment, Dan’s hard expression softened, visibly letting out a breath. “Alright.” Then his eyes rolled, pointing back. “And yes more cheating.” The corner of his lip turned up. “I know for a fact you cheated at the spring carnival to get that stuffed bat for Sam.”

Danny stumbled over a response. That was true but…

“It’s not going to kill anyone.” 

Again Danny felt like he was hit in the head. The understanding, almost compassionate look Dan gave him…. It somehow wasn’t a joke. 

Danny couldn’t help but notice his stomach drop. Still, he rolled his own eyes. “I guess it won’t hurt.”

With that, the two went off to find more games. 

“How about this one?” Danny motioned to one stall, a line of water guns set up opposite a line of moving targets. 

Dan raised an appraising eyebrow. “How am I supposed to cheat at that?” He muttered.

The teen gave him a light elbow jab in response. “I’m sure you can figure it out.” His voice lowered conspiratorially. “Plus it’s Vlad’s money. Who cares how much we waste?”

Dan looked almost surprised. “You have a point.”

The pair bought two seats. They played several rounds, not winning once. 

“Come on!” Danny put up his hands. “It’s like half an inch away!” The dolphin-shaped racing marker smiled down mockingly, barely failing to reach the finish line. 

The fair worker shrugged helplessly. “So close but so far. I’m sure you’ll get it next time.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed. Oh yeah, next time for sure. Then again… if they gave it another go, maybe?

“I’m bored with this.” Dan interrupted his debating, pulling him off his seat by the back of his collar. “Oh. Those headphones look sweet.”

He marched up to a set of basketball hoops, set up fair behind a metal barrier. Sure enough, a pair of sleek black over-the-headphones hung from the side. 

“I see you eyeing these beauties.” The host’s voice projected. “Real Beats, would you believe it? Three shots to win them. Three in a row! Are you up to the challenge?” 

Dan’s eyes narrowed, wickedly smug. “Of course, I am.” 

The black-clad halfa handed over the money, receiving a ball. He stood in front of the line, lining up the shot. Again, his eyes flashed ever so subtly. And he threw. The ball sailed through the air. It bounced off the backboard. Then its edge hit the hoop and it wobbled, starting to fall out.

Danny’s shoulders fell, disappointed at the near shot.

Then, impossibly, the ball wobbled the other direction, falling neatly into the hoop. 

Danny’s mouth fell open. How was that possible?

The game’s host looked just as shocked for a moment. Then, schooling himself, he collected the ball. “Lucky shot.” He handed it back to Dan, who just wordlessly smirked.

The dark-clothed halfa lopped his second shot, then his third. Each landed perfectly. Suspiciously perfectly. 

“That’s three for the three.” The fair worker looked somewhere between stunned and suspicious. Still, he handed the headphones over.

Dan accepted the prize with a grin. “I guess I’m just lucky.” He had the audacity to shrugged casually, the movement in sharp contrast to the smugness radiating off of him.

Danny didn’t have it in him to begrudge the other half ghost his success though. The two walked off, in search of another game. 

They’d walked for about a minute, out of sight of the basketball stall and Danny couldn’t keep his surprise in anymore. “How did you do that?” He asked, almost awed.

“Just simple telekinesis.” This time, Dan’s shrug was legitimately casual. 

“Telekinesis? But…”

“Wait.” The seeming-teen stopped in his tracks, seeming to pick up on the other’s stunned confusion. “You can’t do telekinesis yet? How?” He turned to look at Danny, a mirror of his own confusion. “That’s as easy as breathing. How…” He chuckled. “How don’t you have that power yet?”

“Well, excuse me.” Danny frowned, hands on his hips; he didn’t appreciate being laughed at. “Not all of us have Plasmius’ powers and expertise downloaded right into our head.”

“What? No.” Somehow, Dan sounded even more stunned. “That’s not… Even if that was how that worked…” He looked almost… queasy saying the words. “Plasmius doesn’t have telekinesis.”

“But… yes he does.” Danny tried to argue. Vlad had definitely fought him with telekinesis before. Right?

“He can’t move things with his mind.” The other half ghost shook his head vehemently. “He’s never been able to. Not even now. I’ve tried to explain it a bunch of times.” He pointed severely. “And not out of the goodness of my heart. He wouldn’t stop annoying the shit out of me about how to do it…. And Vlad can’t do it.”

Danny blinked once, twice. “And… you’re serious. You’re not messing with me?”

“Not about this.” Dan rolled his eyes. With a quick look around, they flickered red again. An aura seeped out of his hands, surrounding the newly won headphones. “This telekinesis is one hundred percent Phantom.” The prize hovered off his palm ever so slightly, bathed in green light. 

The other half ghost studied the floating object. It was an impressive show, even more shocking that Vlad apparently couldn’t do it while Dan could so easily. Speaking of easily… Danny raised a brow, teasingly. “Maybe not one hundred percent Phantom. Since you’re not the only one, what with, Box Ghost, Lunch Lady, Technus-”

“Shut up.” Dan elbowed him, surprisingly gently, not a hint of malice in the words. “And I guess we’re not the only ones.”

Danny blinked once, surprised for just a moment. Then… “Oh right. I guess I’ll be able to do that at some point.”

Dan shrugged, the light around the headphones winking out as he caught them. “Want me to teach you?”

“Really?” The other half ghost asked, skeptical.

“Somehow you haven’t figured it out yet.” The other snarked back. Was he… blushing? “And how else are you supposed to cheat at fair games?”

For just a second there was the impulse to snark back; he still didn’t really want to cheat. But Dan was offering, authentically offering to teach him something. And Danny had said he was going to actually give this hanging out thing a shot

“Sure. I’d love it if you showed me how to do it.” Danny said, surprised at his own sincerity. 

Dan gave a nod. “Come on then.” He pulled the teen along, searching for an at least somewhat secluded place. After nearly ten minutes of looking… “This will do.”

They wedged between two stalls, the busy sound of fair goers waiting for food and workers calling out orders at their backs. The alley smelt of roasted turkey, cotton candy, and the sour tang of throw up. The perfect place for an impromptu lesson. 

“That’s going to be your target.” Dan pointed to an abandoned beer bottle. “First…”

After about ten minutes of unsuccessfully getting his younger counterpart to understand, Dan looked just about ready to pull out his hair. “No. You have to reach out. Like the power’s an extension of you.”

“Sorry, but that doesn’t make any sense.” Danny also wanted to pull out his hair.

“Okay, fine. Here. Let’s try this.” Dan grabbed his hand and-

“The fuck!” Danny just about screamed as his counterpart’s hand phased inside his. “What…” He panted, panic suddenly clawing at his throat. “Are you doing?!”

“Bad idea.” Dan was also panting, eyes blown wide. “Bad idea. Too late now.” He pinched red-flickering eyes closed. “We’re like three steps away from being the same person. I should be able to tell your core exactly what to do.”

“Okay?!” Still, Danny’s heart pounded, mind racing back. Dan’s hand, in chest. The solid gear clicking into place. Belittling laughter.

“I’m not…” Dan growled. “That’s not me anymore. I won’t hurt you.”

That was ridiculous. This was crazy. Why did he even agree to doing this? Any of this? Hanging out with Dan, learning from him? Just letting him wander around free?! Why did he trust him? He tried to trust him and this-

Like cold water rushing over him, heavy bricks falling. An immaterial wall shattered. Emotions flooded in. Pain, fear, guilt, regret. But not… not his.

Danny struggled to force his eyes open. When had he closed them?

Dan’s eyes, the same as his own, half a foot from his. They rounded, sincere, desperate. “I’m sorry. Just let me help….”

An exhale. There was a line that had been a solid wall. There was Danny and there was Dan. And Danny could see, he could feel over the line, into his counterpart’s self. The anger, the prickliness, the spite, the smugness. It was all a cover. A pathetic cover over the guilt, the fear, the regret, the pain. 

A small, tentative nudge at his own core. Comfort, reassurance. He was out of practice.

Danny looked away, at his right hand. The one uncannily possessed. His stomach lurched violently. “Do whatever it is you were going to do.”

“I’m trying!” Dan grit his teeth. “Stop fighting.”

Stop fighting? How was he supposed to-

A hand wrapped around his core, not crushing but… comfortably warm. Behind his eyes… 

Rain dripping down the windows, the world dark and gray. A huge, canopied bed. At his bedside, a picture of his family, the glass shattered.

“Danny?” A voice far away. “Danny?” He couldn’t will his head to lift, not after- 

“Danny?” The boy blinked and he was back in that smelly alley. Fingers snapped in front of his face. “Pay attention.” Eyes focused on… Dan. Right.

Wordlessly, Danny nodded. 

“Let’s get this over with.” His counterpart shook his head. His brow furrowed in concentration. And Danny felt his own core act.

Energy swirled around, flowing down to his fingertips and passed them. It stretched, ghostly fingers brushing the bottle. Then, as easy as moving his physical fingers, they wrapped around the target. The object lifted, eerily floating above the dirty ground. Gently it moved side and side of Dan’s volition. With hardly a shared thought, the black-clade half ghost gave over control. Roughly, Danny grabbed the bottle, setting it spinning in the air.

“Wow.” Danny gave a laugh. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

The other halfa rolled his eyes. “Try moving two things at once.”

The shared hand flexed, Dan guiding the movement while Danny acted. His telekinesis reached out, enwrapping a small pebble. It lifted, dipped, and spun. 

At the same time, the bottle dropped. Reaching out with his other physical hand, Danny felt his power stretch. He let out a sigh of relief, catching the object.

For a few more minutes, Danny flexed his new power. His aura wrapped around handfuls of trash, the pieces bobbing in the air. They spun around the pair. First slowly, then faster and faster. Like dirty little moons circling a planet. 

Slowly, a smile grew on Danny’s face. He was actually doing this! His eyes twinkled playfully, suddenly dropping all the trash.

“What? Already tired?” Dan asked. 

The other half ghost didn’t dignify the question. Instead, he jerkily pulled the shark into the air. He sent it in a slow circle around them. Closer and closer, all the while humming. 

“Is that the Jaws theme-”

Danny rammed the shark into his counterpart’s side. 

The plush snoot had Dan bending forward dramatically. His eyes narrowed. And Danny’s smile disappeared. Maybe that had been a step too far; he was getting too comfortable. Then…

Dan rolled his eyes. “Oh, you can effectively attack me with plushies. Color me impressed.” The words came out thick with sarcasm, not the least bit amused. But underneath…

A feeling like subdued laughter brushed Danny’s core. 

The smile wavered back into place. “You say that all serious but…” Just hint of a smirk. “You thought that was hilarious.”

“I did not.” Dan tried to deny. But standing side by side, core open to Danny’s prodding, he had no leg to stand on. “It’s this stupid teenage brain.” He lifted a hand pleadingly. “The meat suit thinks the dumbest things are funny. I’m…I’m a big scary grown up ghost, I swear!”

He sounded so desperate, it was almost funny. Danny struggled not to laugh. “Sure you are.”

For a moment more, Dan pouted, eyes trying to argue his point. Then… he huffed. “Fine. It was funny.” 

Effortlessly, he pulled his incorporeal hand out of Danny’s. The other half ghost shivered, feeling oddly bare as the background nose of Dan’s emotions faded away. 

Across from him, Dan’s arms were crossed, eyes fixed down.

Danny’s brow furrowed. What exactly was Dan’s deal? Flip flopping between emotions. He was snarking and joking one minute and then the next, clamming up and serious. He wanted to be having fun, and then admitting that he was enjoying himself the worst possible thing ever. Part of Danny was at a loss, at his wit’s end. How was he supposed to deal with this? 

But another part… the glimpses he caught from the other’s core. The anger and harshness, covering all that pain and guilt and grief. That made sense. How many times had Danny himself put on a brave face while he was hurting? 

There was another layer though. Uncertainty, insecurity, loneliness. 

So much there and Danny had no idea where to start, what he could say to help, to make it better. 

So he offered what comfort he could. “It’s okay if you thought it was funny, you know. It doesn’t mean you’re any less badass or terrifying or whatever.” He shrugged. “Plus, we’re here to have fun. Let yourself actually enjoy it.”

The other half ghost’s shoulders loosened. He looked up and… for a long moment, there was something heavy and serious in his eyes. His mouth opened and closed, chewing on the thought. Then….

“Al… alright then. Let’s go have some fun.” Dan finally said, seemingly letting the heavy words go, for now at least.

“Yeah.” Danny gave him a hearty pat on the back. “I saw one of those milk bottle toss games with a bunch of giant plushies. Wanna play that?”

“Sure.” Dan shrugged. Then pointedly. “And I expect you to use our lesson.”

“Of course.” Danny replied airly. “Can’t have you shoving your hand intangibly into me for nothing.”

“Again, I blame the teenage brain. You get forcibly de-aged and all the common sense goes out the window.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Danny waved him off. “You don’t see me complaining.”

“You haven’t been de-aged before, have you?” Dan raised a brow. 

“Well no, but…” He trailed off, at a loss for a response to the seeming-teen. Or rather, just teen. The thought almost knocked him off his feet…. Dan actually was his age again, wasn’t he?

“Thought so.” The other teen snorted, ignoring the odd look. Then pointing. “There’s your milk bottle toss.” He blinked. “What the hell is that?”

Danny’s brow furrowed, just as confused at the ambiguous giant stuffed animal. “A cat? Racoon? Maybe a red panda, except… you know, green?”

Dan rubbed his chin, deadpan serious. “Ah, the famed green cacooanda. Of course.”

That earned an appreciative snort from the other half ghost. “Nice.”

Despite his earlier sarcasm and resistance, Danny fully intended to use what Dan had taught him. A few telekinesis assisted ring tosses and he was walking away from the stand with his own green cacooanda. 

“I can’t believe it.” Dan said, dubious. “You actually did it.” He gave a scoff, his typical haughtiness as present as ever. But a twinkle in the corner of his eye…. Dan not-so-secretly looked proud. 

More games followed. Wack-a-mole. Skee-Ball. The Shooting Gallery. Darts. Ring the Bell. Even Duck Pond and Bingo. The pair hit up every one, until all the game hosts eyed the two suspiciously, muttering about calling security, much to Dan’s amusement.

“That was satisfying.” The black-clade teen smirked, carrying his collection of cheating-won spoils. “How ya feel about getting burgers?”

“Yeah.” Danny nodded. His eyes nervously flittered over the booth, still wary of being caught cheating. But… he smiled down at his own pair of headphones and the stuffed bear he planned to give to Jazz; his stomach leapt, giddy at the thrill. Slowly, he grinned. “There’s a bunch of stalls set up by local charities and stuff near the South Gate. The food’s normally good and not that pricey.”

“Awesome.” Dan agreed with a nod.

They grabbed lunch, sitting at one of the picnic tables in front of the impromptu restaurants. Neither really talked. Not that Danny minded. That had been the pattern for most of the morning and early afternoon, conversation revolving around what game to play next, which prizes either had their eyes on.

Now, Dan chewed his burger, the corner of his lip subtly lifted. At the same time, his eyes flitted from stall to stall, drifting over the crowds of people. People watching. Just the smallest hint of awe and curiosity flickered in his eyes.

Danny watched all this, his own lips quirking slightly.

Next came the rides. After a quick discussion about what to do with their prizes – they really should have waited until after to play the games – and finding a place to phase them into the ground for later, the two hurried to the midway. So many options stretched in front of them, Dan’s eyes practically shining with excitement. 

“We have to do the Gravitron first.” The black-clad teen pulled Danny through the crowds.

As they rounded the corner, the ride appeared before them. Danny could almost feel his eyes go heart-shaped. His heart picked up, airly giddy. It was shaped like a spaceship!

“Come on!” It was Danny’s turn to tug his counterpart onward. 

With fastpass bracelets, the two boarded the ride. Back against the padded wall, the boy grinned as the lights started flashing and everything started spinning. 

“Yeah! Woa!” People cheered and screamed as the ride rotated faster and faster. 

Without even a belt to hold him in place, Danny’s back pressed against the wall, the weight of gravity overwhelming. Suddenly, the panels slid up, the lady to his right shouting in surprise. The boy’s feet rose off the floor, body held in place solely by the centrifugal force. He just shouted louder.

Far too soon, the ride slowed, the panels slotting back into place and feet returning to the floor. The spinning gradually stopped and the force of gravity lessened to its normal weight. 

Danny’s ears rang slightly, balance wobbly and stomach churning; boy was he glad they hadn't pigged out on too much greasy food yet. Still, his heart pounded, a buzz with adrenaline. He grinned. “Let’s do that again!”

Ride again, they did. A second spin and then a third had Dan grinning with him, eager to try something else. 

“The drop tower?” The teen pointed. And the pair was rushing off again.

The tilt-a-whirl. An upside down swinging Pirate Ship. The Round-up, the Gravitron’s almost vertically spinning cousin. 

The two half ghosts took turns choosing which to ride next and excitedly pulling each other across the midway.

“What’s this one?” Danny pointed. “Music Express?”

“Looks kinda boring.” The other half ghost shrugged. “Let’s try it.” 

The cars formed a circle, alternating flat and sloped sections making the track look lop-sided. The two picked a car, Dan sliding in first. Danny sat beside him, the metal bar over their laps locking them into place. Again, music started and they were off.

The circle of cars rotated, first slowly and evenly. Honestly, indeed a little boring. Then…

“What wants to go faster?!” The operator yelled into the microphone. 

The riders screamed their agreement, the music speeding up. The cars spun faster. Laughter and shouts rang out; Danny’s screams joined the merry noise, caught up in the joy around him. 

Then, he slammed into Dan, his shout choking. The spinning force pulled him towards the center and right into his car-mate. His hip and shoulder dug into the other teen, Dan’s own enthusiastic shouting cutting out. The black-clad teen’s mouth snapped shut, face going beat red in mortification.

“Your.. your face!” Danny burst out laughing, unable to keep the amusement in.

Dan just wordlessly shoved Danny’s face away. 

The ride continued for a few more minutes, the rotation even reversing and sending the cars backwards. All the while, Danny laughed, a large part of him enjoying Dan’s discomfort. 

Finally, the music slowed, movement trickling to a stop. The ride over, Danny exited first. He offered his hand to help his counterpart out. 

“I guess this one’s on the no list, huh?” Danny asked, taking pity. 

Dan took the offered hand. “Nah. I want to go again.”

“Oh?” The other teen blinked once, surprised.

“Yes. You’re sitting on the inside next time.” His teeth flashed mischievously. 

“Guess I deserve that one.” Danny chuckled. 

Sure enough, they rode again, this time Danny suffering through being crushed by his seat companion. Dan laughed somewhat evilly all the while, reveling in the discomfort just as much as Danny had earlier.

Bumper cars. Three different mini-coasters. A few turns on the Racing Slide. A surprisingly disorienting house of mirrors, followed by a ridiculously lame “haunted house.” Even the good old carousel and ferris wheel. 

Conversation drifted, most trivial but some… almost serious.

The fairwheel ground to a stop, the pair hanging at the apex. “So… how does it work?” Danny asked, casually looking at his nails. 

Dan gave him a suspicious look. “How does what work?” 

“If you didn’t just download Vlad’s expertise…then how does it work?”

The other teen stiffened slightly, eyes fixed far away on the Amity Park skyline. “It’s mainly emotions. I mean, you and Vlad figured that out. Ghosts are made of emotions. And there’s… they’re not really memories, I guess. More like… the shape of them.” Slowly, the car started descending. “Like I watch football with Vlad… because he’s into it and won’t shut up about father-son bonding.” Dan narrowed his eyes pointedly. “And I find myself liking it.” He stuck out his tongue. “And the weird images of boring board rooms. And Maddie with long hair. It was so curly then, falling against her cheeks…” He grimaced. “Sometimes I really wish I hadn’t eaten Plasmius.” 

The words were so blunt, so casual; Danny choked on air. Dan ignored his hacking. “I mean… I think I would have just faded away if I hadn’t so…” He shrugged.

Danny blinked at him. What was he supposed to say to that? A response did niggle at his mind though…and to his horror, the question slipped out. “What did he… taste like?” 

“The grossest cheese ever.”

Danny and Dan enjoyed all the rides the fair had to offer, the afternoon gradually giving way to evening. The sun set, the warmth of the day becoming the chill of night. The lines grew longer, teens and young adults piling in to enjoy the bright lights and music. Still, the two were unbothered by the waits, thanks to their blessed fastpasses. 

The night stretched on, every ride enjoyed to the two teens’ hearts’ content. And finally…

“The squirrel cages.” Dan spread his arms, practically beaming up at the towering mess of metal. “Saving the best for last.” 

“Yes!” Danny’s stomach leapt, queasily excited. 

They boarded one of the odd, apostrophe-shaped cars. The plush bench sat under them, metal bars and mesh cradling the two riders. The center, oblong frame creaked, beginning to spin. The car rose into the air, swinging. 

The sound of more people being loaded onto the ride rang out below. Danny held his breath in anticipation. Any second now…

A sudden jolt of movement. Beside him, Dan gasped. 

The center rotated, the cage swaying violently. Rising higher and higher in the air. Danny’s heart fluttered. They reached the top… A burst of speed and everything spun. Both boys screamed, the cage flipping end over end. 

A flurry of movement, the world turning. The inky-black sky flashed into view, then the thousand glittering lights of the fair loomed below. The sky, the ground, the sky, the ground. The scene flickered. On and on. 

Screams reverberated, terrified and elated. Weight shifted, the car turning and flipping. Danny’s heart pounded, his stomach in his throat.

Far too soon, the ride ended. Danny looked over at his counterpart, both’s eyes blown wide. “Go again?”

Dan nodded eagerly. 

They rode again. And again. And again. 

Head over heels, the world turned in flashes of light and dark. Danny’s ears rang, shouts and cheers filling his brain. His head swam. Pressed side by side with Dan, hands grasps to the bars over the door. His veins filled with more adrenaline than blood. In every molecule… terror, giddiness, elation. 

The joy bubbled up, first in a smile. A grin. A shout. A laugh. The cackle burst out, unrestrained. Beside him, Dan’s guffaws rang in kind. The laughter filled his world, his mind. Dan’s laugh and his… they were the same laugh, but also so different. Chests and shoulders shook, the delight too much to hold. 

The two half ghosts laughed and laughed and laughed. 

They laughed until they couldn’t breathe. Until the ride stopped and both stumbled out of the car. Until Danny, one arm around the other’s shoulders, helped a green-faced, wobbling Dan past the ride operator and the line of waiting riders, and the other teen threw up on his shoes. 

“Stupid clone body.” Dan complained without heat, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That’s just being human.” Danny laughed. 

“Well, can my body not?” He rolled his eyes, the orbs still sparkling with mirth. “Eating and sleeping are great, really, but I could do without the ability to vomit.”

“Hey, you’re doing better than my first time. You lasted for more than one ride.” The other half ghost shrugged, the movement bringing his counterpart just the tiniest bit closer. “When we went to the fair when I was eleven, I was finally tall enough. I begged to ride. Jazz and Mom absolutely refused, the chickens. But Dad rode with me. It was the best thing ever. We flipped so many times.” His speech grew faster with his excitement. “I was so dizzy after. Stumbling around like I’d just drunk a six-pack. I wobbled up to Jazz, told her she was a chicken and missed the best ride ever and…” A snort burst forth, threatening to choke his words. “I threw up all over her! I’d eaten so much cotton candy before, it was bright blue! And little bits of popcorn and hotdogs.” Danny held his stomach with one arm. “You should have seen her face.” He giggled lost in the memory, in the lingering adrenaline rush. 

Beside him, Dan shook his head in amusement. “I remember. I was there.”

“Yeah.” Danny laughed. “I guess you were… there.” He trailed off, the meaning finally hitting him. Eyes trailing over, to his counterpart’s face. Similar to his, not just because the human body was a clone, but… “I guess you were.” 

Something shifted between the two, in that meeting of eyes. An unspoken understanding lingered. That heaviness that had flashed in Dan’s eyes, right after their lesson…. It leered, visible but not weighty. 

“Come on.” Danny finally offered, smile gentle. “You wanted to eat a bunch of greasy food today. Think your stomach is up to it?”

“Of course.” The other flashed his teeth playfully.

The two weaved through the midway, away from crowded rides. They passed tens of food stalls, visiting at least a half dozen for all the staples. Cotton Candy, Kettle Corn, Candy Apples. They got the best ice cream from a local farm’s stand and incredible homemade pumpkin fudge. And so much fried food- a red-velvet funnel cake, corn dogs, fried pickles, bacon-wrapped fried Reeses’, and the famed, delectable fried oreos. 

With their haul, they walked past the fairy-light lit garden displays, plants of all shapes and sizes swaying in the breeze. Clangs sounded from the old-fashioned blacksmith’s shop, curious onlookers’ faces lit by the fire light. A bluegrass band played on the lawn to ground-shaking stomps and cheers.

“This looks like a good spot.” Danny motioned. 

They’d wandered to an empty spot on the grass, near the pond at the edge of the fairgrounds. Dan gave a nod, carefully putting down his portion of the food.

And so the two teens sat and ate. Lights flickered on the water. At their backs, music spun. Fiddle and mandolin sang, soft and slow in some kind of lullaby.  

The quiet weighed but… not heavy, not oppressive. It encompassed, gentle and protective, like a blanket. Dan ate slowly, unhurried. His eyes drifted over the lake, gaze on the gentle lapping water. But his mind was elsewhere.

And Danny watched his companion. Not tense and distrusting as before but patient, ready to talk when Dan needed.

The lullaby ended to cheers. The sound petered out, the set ending. The murmurs of the crowd ebbed away. 

The wind picked up, movement catching Danny’s eye. At the other side of the pond, the trees swayed. Needles and pine cones ruffled, falling to the water with tiny plops. 

“Do you really think I’m terrifying?” Dan finally broke the silence.

Danny turned, eyes wide. Of all the questions to ask, he hadn’t been expecting that. “Why do you ask?” He swallowed, eyes darting away evasively.

“Earlier…you said having fun doesn’t make me any less terrifying or whatever. But that’s not…” Dan looked down, picking at his nails. “I don’t care about being scary. I don’t… I don’t wanna be like that. That’s not why… I don’t deserve… that’s not…” He stumbled over the words, finally gritting out. “Just answer the question.”

For just a second, Danny’s stomach twisted; his impulse was to lie. But… back in the alley, his core brushing Dan’s. A door opened between them. And… a door, once opened, may be walked through from either side.

He couldn’t lie, not about this.

Danny swallowed, nodding. “After I saw your future and the CAT and everything… I had so many nightmares. Mostly about you escaping.” The evil laughter, terror on his friend’s faces, Amity Park in rubble. He’d wake up sweating, heart pounding and ecto-blast in hand. Ready to defend. Now… his mouth felt dry, an odd feeling squeezing his core. “Those went on for months.”

“And then it happened.” Dan’s knees pulled his chest, eyes wide, haunted, and… guilty.

Numbly, Danny nodded. It had. He remembered; the rubble, the cries for help, the flames. He shivered. That reality had been erased. Clockwork fixed the timeline, like he had the first time. But it still happened. The monster from his nightmares returned, more powerful and dangerous than ever. And now….

His eyes focused. On the boy sitting across from him. That monster was here and… he wasn’t a monster at all.

And that was the hardest part. The Phantom as evil incarnate. As a twisted, unfeeling abomination. That was easy. But this Phantom? This oddly human reflection….

“I’m sorry.” Danny found himself saying. 

Dan looked up at that, blinking at him startledly. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

In a less somber setting, he might have laughed but now, Danny just shook his head. “After the CAT, I kept telling myself that I promised I’d never be like…like you.” The odd feeling squeezed again, something like guilt. “I’d never let that happen. Because… because I promised.” His head fixed down, gnawing on his lip. “Because I was stronger. I knew better now. I was better. I was… I was different somehow. But that’s… that’s a lie.” He forced his gaze back up, focused on the wide-eyed boy in front of him. “We’re… three steps from being the same person. If things had been different…”

The rain, the bed, the shattered picture frame…. That terrible scene from Dan’s memory. It was so easy to imagine that as his reality. Losing everything, his life destroyed… A twist of fate and their places could have been swapped. 

“So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry that you lost everything and that you’re stuck here. And having to deal with being 16 again and Vlad thinking he’s your dad. And…” Danny wrung his hands. “I’m sorry that I forgot…”

After the fight, when he’d thrown down the thermos, he’d realized, he’d seen it. That Phantom was hurting, in pain. That he was still just a grieving kid. But in the months since, he’d lost sight of that. “I’m sorry that I forgot you’re a person too. I forgot who you really are.”

Dan stared at him for a long moment, brow wrinkled. His mouth opened and closed a few times. Then… “You are so stupid.” Somehow, no heat was in the words. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying sorry. I’m supposed to be groveling, on my knees, begging. I…I destroyed the world, Danny.” His voice started to tremble. “I killed so many people. Maimed so many ghosts. Tried to kill Valerie, my only friend, so many times. I…I tried to kill Mom and Dad.” His eyes shone, taking on a glassy sheen. “Jazz, Sam and Tucker. I tried to kill all of them twice. Twice. And…” His face paled, almost queasy. “I am horrified. I am disgusted. I… It makes me sick. I hate… I hate what I did. I hate who I was. And…” Finally, tears started falling. “I don’t deserve any… any of this. I definitely don’t deserve you saying sorry to me. You… you idiot. You’re too good for your own good. And I’m… I’m just…”

Dan stuttered to a stop, words choking as he furiously whipped at his face. 

And it was Danny’s turn to stare stunned. What could he say to that? Nothing was good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough. By all accounts, Dan had done horrible things, unforgivable things. Danny had every reason to still hate and fear him. No reason at all to offer forgiveness or sympathy. But…

The empathy was there, twisting Danny’s heart into knots. Somehow, he understood. Far too well.

“Do you want a hug?” The question slipped out before Danny really considered it.

Dan, apparently completely stunned, nodded immediately.

What he’d asked hit Danny just as the response came. For a moment, he mentally berated himself; what a stupid thing to ask. Dan didn’t actually want a hug. And what was he doing trying to comfort his formerly evil, formerly older alternative self? But then again…

Danny’s resolve crumbled. He leaned over, wrapping his arms around Dan’s shoulders.

The breath-hitching sob caught Danny off guard. Dan letting his walls crumble in front of him had been unbelievable just this morning. But after the rides and games, sharing quips and food and heart-felt truths…. Now it all made sense.

The pair sat for a long time, Danny hugging his counterpart. Dan’s shoulders shook, hands balled in the back of his jacket. Tears wet his shirt. And the only sounds were his own heartbeat, Dan’s pounding right next to his. And the dark-clad teen’s soft cries. 

Gradually though, the tears slowed. The sobs quieted. The shaking stopped. Breathing slowed and evened. 

Taking a deep breath, Dan pulled away. “I… Sorry.” His face burned red, embarrassed. “That isn’t… I didn’t want to break down on you.”

“It’s okay.” Danny shook his head. “Maybe it didn’t go how you wanted. But this is why you wanted to hang out with me, right? To apologize, getting everything out in the open.”

The other half ghost nodded. “And show you that I’m…I’m different.” He wiped his eyes. “I’m trying to be better.”

“I can see that.” The skin around his eyes crinkled, dawning smile genuine. 

And Danny meant it. In a dozen little ways today, he’d witnessed it. This Dan was a far cry from the Phantom he’d fought all those months ago.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Dan gave a watery smile. 

Just then, a loud boom cut that air. Lights flashed in the sky. Fireworks above the pond. 

“Look at that.” Dan’s eyes widened, voice breathlessly awed.

The two sat, side by side watching the fireworks. Sparks danced across the sky, spheres and swirls and spirals of every color.

And Danny could never have been happier he opened that door and let Dan drag him here. He didn’t know what the future held for them, where exactly his and Dan’s relationship stood; were they friends now? Family? But… 

“Cotton Candy?” His counterpart offered, holding open the bag.

“Sure.” Danny nodded, taking the last handful.

There had been tears and apologies. A release of tension and fear and bitterness. New discoveries made and old similarities uncovered.

Danny tore the piece of floss in half, giving Dan back the other piece. 

And most importantly, the incredible chance to start again.

Dan accepted with a nod and a smile. “Thanks. For everything.” 

Reconciliation was indeed sweet. 

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic finder

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1. I'm looking for a fic that's during the Cloud Recesses study arc where, WWX I think, found out Wen Chao couldn't read and started teaching him. I think a couple of the other kids started helping him, MianMian maybe? I can't remember much but they definitely helped him learn how to read and became friends. TIA

FOUND? Wei Wuxian’s Super Special Super Secret Book Club by Anonyma (T, 31k, WWX & WC & LQY, WangXian, Canon Divergence)

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2. hello!! All good? I'm looking for a collection of one shots, and I can't find it, I read it a little while ago but I remember a one shot, where Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying were discussing the fact that Wei Ying had saved the heirs of the sects in cave and Jin Ling was listening and Wei Ying was saying that if he hadn't saved the heirs Jin Ling wouldn't exist and Jiang Cheng said something like, Whatever.... Honestly, I don't even remember the tags, but Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying realizing that Jin Ling had heard, Wei Ying asks what Jin Ling wants. @sweettiebah

FOUND! 🔒 Chapter 11: Careless Words of Short Prompts by Vrishchika (JL POV - Not JC Friendly - WWX loses his patience)

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3. Hello !! Ive read this fanfic a while ago and I have multiple ss of it since i like to save memorable parts of the fic but now i cant remember it anymore </3 i dont remember the synopsis but there was a scene where Lwj and Wwx were in an inn while out night hunting, and wwx suspected the person serving them to have poisoned lwj, wwx got really angry and threatened the guy to the max

quote:

Wei Wuxian slammed him against the wall again, cutting off his rapid ramblings and jostling his fractured arm. "Your stories bore me," he spoke lowly, peering his head around slightly so as to almost look into Heng She's face. He still had yet to acknowledge Lan Wangji's presence. "Tell me why you poisoned the tea, or I will hang you in the street by your intestines, ripped open to let the crows feed on your liver." @jingyisbff

FOUND! let me sing to you by greybird_crookedbranch (T, 61k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, adorable Juniors, Minor Original Character(s)for plot purposes, Minor Violence, Demonic Cultivation, resentful energy, Trauma, Guilt, Protectiveness, BAMF WWX, Hurt wwx, Protective WWX, Protective LWJ, Baby Lans, Mental Instability, Possession, it's a case fic but the case is for the hurts, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV LWJ, a tasteful seasoning of Yunmeng Bros Reconcilliation, CQL canon except LWJ is not chief cultivator, Nightmares)

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4. Hello! T__T I have my focus mode on so my distracting apps like twitter (x) are paused. I took a 5 minutes break and opened it. I saw a threadfic of Bottomji/Topxian (Omegaverse) They already have 3 kids (Yuan, Twins) but they are all alphas. lwj wants a daughter (or an omega son). He rode wwx that night then let him knot him for 3x. They were on a date and lwj bought some robes for a girl the confronts wwx that he wants a daughter.... Thats all Ive read. I want to read the whole thread but my app closed. 💔 Can you guys help me with it? I cant find it anymore.

FOUND! sounds like this twt threadfic by @/omegawangji

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5. Hi, I need help finding a fic I’m pretty sure I’ve seen recommended on here a couple years ago.

I don’t remember the title or the author. It was on AO3. It was an Alternative Universe fic where WWX is an art student (and lived in a dorm with the Wen siblings) and LWJ has a very active but discreet sex life. WangXian know each other but they’re not together. Eventually they start sleeping with each other (WWX doesn’t realize LWJ actually likes him and he’s not just another hookup). There is also a secondary plot about one of LWJ’s past hookups stalking and tormenting them at a club or party at some point? T

his is all I can remember, unfortunately. I hope to reach someone who knows which fic this is by asking on here. WangXian nation, do your thing! 🙏

FOUND? show me a quiver, give me tonight by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 115k, wangxian, lwj/others, communication failure, mutual pining, artists, demisexual wwx, angst w/ happy ending) It doesn't match exactly but some details do

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6. For fic finder, a fic I read a good while back.

It was one of those “jgs magically spies on the burial mounds to get people to hate wwx and the remnants” but in this one wwx and lwj did the “a-yuan is birthed from wwx” thing and the people spying believe it. Lqr passes out for a bit and lxc and jc start planning a wedding since lwj apparently deflowered wwx. I think it was completed

FOUND! Assumptions by draechaeli (T, 50k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mainly Novel with a few CQL and Donghua bits, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Adoption, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, not mpreg, Not Established Relationship, Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, gender non-conforming titles)

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7. Hello! Here's one I've read a dozen times and would swear I have bookmarked, but now I can't find it. Basically, LZ is a courtesan/assassin who's sent by JGS to seduce and kill the powerful Yiling Patriarch. Meng Yao is working with LZ, although he has his own plans against JGS, of course. WWX later realizes LZ's brother is alive and looking for him, so he brings them together. (By the way, are you thinking of adding a Courtesan compilation? There are plenty of good ones to rec!) Thank you! @ladysalieri (we don't have a courtesan au specific comp but we do have a royalty one that includes a few! ^^ - Mod C)

FOUND! out to get you (to get you) by iliacquer (E, 41k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, switching, top/bottom LWJ, top/bottom WWX, power play, courtesan LWJ, assassin LWJ, dark lord WWX, bondage, happy ending, past slavery)

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8. Hello i am looking for a fic where modern lwj time travels to the canon era and becomes original lwj, in the fic he is betrothed to yilling patriarch wy who sends him letters, and wy becomes more desperate and insane because lwj doesn't answers his letters. @ahiku-chan

FOUND? if this is a dream, i pray to never wake up by dangodangomilk (M, 27k, WangXian, Marriage, Weddings, Engagement, Canon Divergence, Parallel Universes, YLLZ WWX, false amnesia, Implied/Referenced Sex, Fluff and Angst, Sexual Content)

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9. hello! i'm looking for a fic from lwj's pov. he runs into wwx (dark) in yiling i think, after burial mounds but before his new body. lwj is horrified by how bad he looks and convinces him to go to an inn (wwx mean), they have sex. during this lwj realizes that wwx's bones are all broken from his fall in the burial mounds and he is holding them stable with resentful energy. he can't heal them, but the resentful energy is working as a stopgap. possibly of it's own volition? bittersweet? thx! @saydams

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10. Hello!! I love this blog, where I find fics to read!! A few days ago, I asked someone to find me a fic, but I'm here again because I remembered med and another fic that I loved reading, but currently can't find.

The things I remember: Wangxian has an spiritual connection, which is why the golden core transfer does not occur (and it is qing who informs Wei Ying of the connection, as Madam Yu knew and gave tea to undo the connection but it did not work ) and if I'm not mistaken Yanli is the one who told Wei Ying that the spiritual connection no longer exists (which is obviously wrong)

If you can't find it, I ask you to recommend something similar.

Thank you ❤💛🖤 @sweettiebah

FOUND! Half of my soul by Asphodel_Meadow (T, 8k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, No Golden Core Transfer, Fix-It, 5+1 Things, kinda soul bond but with their golden cores, POV Outsider, POV Alternating)

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11. Hi, im looking for a fic where when Wei Wuxian was dead others tried to flirt with Lan Wangji. I remember one of the scenes where Shizui was walking to the jingshi and overherd someone (a cousin of Lan Jingyi?) trying to flirt with Lan Wangji. I think it was a 5+1 type of deal. No matter the way i word it, i cant find it. I`ve been looking on and off for months. @herebedragons02

FOUND? Criteria by incendir (T, 10k, LSZ & LWJ, WangXian) Criteria from the Resolutions series! I've reread ot enough to know that description on site

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12. I hope you don't mind me asking, i'm looking for a wangxian fic where there is a scene that takes place in the cloud recesses where jiang cheng injures nie huaisang and nie mingjue almost declares war on the jiang sect. Thats as much as i remember I hope it's enough to go on. If it helps any it was either a Jiang Cheng bashing fic or a Jiang Family bashing. / Hi i'm looking for a Jiang Cheng or Jiang Family Bashing fic (can't remember which it was) where Nie Huaisang gets severely injured by Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue almost declares war on the Jiang Sect. Thank you. @hanabichan2018

FOUND? Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending)

FOUND? A Future Family In A Broken Past by Hauntcats (T, 121k, wangxian, Not JIang Family Friendly, Not Cultivation World Friendly, WWX Needs a Hug, Family Dynamics, What is a good family?, Fear of emotions does not excuse abuse, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, LXC needs a hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Not YZY Friendly)

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13. Hello I’ve been looking for this fic but I cannot find it I remember seeing it before it’s where in order to survive the burial mounds WY exchanges his heart which changes how he acts and then at the end JC, JYL, LWJ and NH decide to go to the burial mounds to see what happened to WY

FOUND?🔒 between the shadow and the soul by Reverie (cl410) (M, 22k, wangxian, JYL/WQ, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family, Dark WWX, Feral WWX, Memory Loss, Magic, Magical Realism, Protective LWJ, Protective JC, Protective JYL, Grief, BAMF WWX, POV Alternating)

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14. Hi! For next fic finder, could you help me find a modern wangxian au with combination of arranged marriage, marriage of convenient (i think it is), and contract marriage. YZY arranged a marriage between WWX and LWJ for a bussiness cooperation. WWX agreed to that so he can get away from the Jiang (especially YZY) and to make his own carrier. Then LWJ and WWX make a contract to make the marriage last until 2 years and decided if they want to keep the marriage or not. I think LWJ playing his guqin and WWX is used to that and when 2 years almost up, WWX didnt want to get divorce. The fic is focused about them getting to know each other. I think thats all i can remember. I read that in 2021 so the detail is kinda patchy. If you dont know the fic at least a confirmation that im not the only one that ever read this. Thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

Hi, im #14. Unfortunately its not the fic that iam searching for. The one that iam serching for focused on wangxian, other characters barely appears. Even the jiangs only gets mentioned. Wwx didnt work for Jiang, i think he is graphic design freelancer? The agrement for divorce is between the two of them, their family didnt know about their agreement. They choose how long they stay together before divorce after they think that the project between their family is finished so their divorce wont effect the project. WWX even has a plan after their divorce to open his own office. If i remember corectly, WWX realize he didnt want to get divorced is a few days before the day of their divorce. Like he is in his room and thinking that after their divorce, he cant listening to LWJ playing his guqin and spend their days together and he didnt want that.

I really hope i didnt mix several fic together. Thank you!

NOT FOUND! you're the only thing i think i got right by sandustorms (lucianclouds) (M, 48k, wangxian, Arranged Marriage, Falling In Love, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Domestic, Married Life, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, do you remember that fake reddit post abt the guy that fell for his husband, that he was arranged to be married to, that was kind of what inspired this, Happy Ending, Modern, Strangers to Lovers, Romance)

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15. Hello Mods, hope you are having a good day (^ ω ^)

This is for the fic finder and I'm not quite sure about this so just to be safe I don't want to upset anyone so

Trigger Warning! Trigger Warning! Trigger Warning!

This is what I remember: WWX is roofied or SA'ed in the Cloud Recesses ( I don't remember if that is shown) and there's a lot about how he handle it (denial? minimizing? disassociation?), and LWJ is there, he didn't do it, he is good, and anti-victim-blaming? if that makes sense?

FOUND? obscura: ink stain by AvoOwO (M, 20k, wangxian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Canon Divergence, Emotions, Heavy Angst, Painting, Temporary Amnesia, Drugs, Drug Use, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drink Spiking, Victim Blaming, LWJ Has Feelings, LWJ Has a Crush, Soft wangxian, Holding Hands, Blood and Violence, Good Sibling JC, Protective JC, WWX is a Mess, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Protective LXC, Good Sibling LXC, Good Uncle LQR, LQR Tries, OCs, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, WWX Needs a Hug, someone gets punched a lot, LWJ contemplates murder for a moment, JC almost gets it done, not quite about romance, as much as romance elements there, more so about the small things, LWJ loves how WWX smells, some nasty things are said, WWX def needs a nap, he gets one dw, LQR Gets Shit Done, NHS Is A Little Shit, Scheming NHS)

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16. Hi! For fic finder, I am looking for a short-ish fic where Jin Ling learns that Wei Wuxian is the one who named him “Rulan.” Jin Ling then realizes he is named after the Lans, and he has a teenage meltdown about how he is named after his uncle’s crush. Does this sound familiar? Thank you, everyone, for all your help! @gloriousclotpole

FOUND! three days gone by occultings (microcomets) (G, 4k, JL & WWX, WangXian, Post-Canon, Family Bonding, Homophobic Language, Fluff) there may be a few fics that fit, is it maybe the one where jin ling and jiang cheng are reading sect letters together, and jin ling got mad about being called "rulan"? so far i found another fic, ig it's "similar" since jin ling's only mad for one sentence, but i thought to link it anyway

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17. Hi! I'm looking for a fic, but i only remember a specific scene from it: wwx and the wens on the horses and it's raining and lan zhan lets them go, but then i guess granny wen says go back and get him, and when they return, lan zhan is soaking wet and she says something along the lines of 'dramatic young people'. Thank you so much!

FOUND? Turn Around by mondengel (Not rated, <1k, wangxian, humor)

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18. Hi, I'm looking for an AU WIP fic where WWX has to wear a mask; nobody but family is allowed to see his face. He and LWJ have an arranged marriage, but LWJ still refuses to let him take his mask off, and doesn't make any effort in the marriage. Very soon after they are married, he takes Wen Qing as a concubine, without explaining anything to WWX. WWX moves to a house near Lotus Pier, and there is a bit about him adopting children, but I can't remember how that came about... Thank you! @godiva696

FOUND! Sounds like the deleted "A price to pay" by wangxianist.

Not FOUND! sounds sorta like shana's identity porn fic here on tumblr

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19. Hello! 😃 I hope you can help me find this fic that I have been looking for!

I only remember that Wei Wuxian gets reunited with the sect leader of the Yu sect,(she is basically his grandma I think) and he get very emotional, it is also at a discussion conference or something like that, it is a very sweet/happy scene.

thank you 😊

NOT FOUND!🔒补救; to remedy, to do something to correct or improve something that is wrong by ravenditefairylights (G, 21k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Healing, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Getting Together, Everybody Gets Their Shit Together, Family Feels, Teacher WWX, Soft WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Marriage Proposal, Assassination Attempt(s), Family Bonding, soup as a metaphor, Meishan as a metaphor, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Forgiveness, BAMF WWX, Assassin WWX) i'm not positive this is it, but has a scene like that

Not FOUND And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) has a wwx-Sect Leader Yu relationship a bit like that? They meet up in Meishan, though, it's not a conference

Not FOUND The Housewife's Guide to Causing Chaos by dvasva (M, 127k, WIP, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Functionally Trans Character, Mild Sexual Content, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, Transphobia, Good Parents LWJ and WWX, Pining, WWX is a Tease, Grief/Mourning, Body Dysphoria, Fake Marriage, Canonical Character Death, Misunderstandings, Doting LWJ, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, WWX is not in MXY's body, Misgendering, Mild Angst, Assumptions, Comedic Elements, non-sexual nudity, Blood, Discussion of Various Bodily Functions, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, 4 years of mourning instead of 13, Méishān Yú Sect, POV Multiple, Corporal Punishment, Trans WWX, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, pregnancy mention, Timeline What Timeline, Sexual Harassment Threats) has wwx summoned by an OC Yu cousin instead of mxy, so there is some wwx-Yu sect interactions in the story. I don't remember it being particularly sweet or happy, but the setting is a conference

Not FOUND Moments of Revelation by meyari (T, 133k, ChengSang, WangXian, XiYao, POV JC, Canon Divergence, Temporary Character Death, Character Death, not anyone we care about, Time Travel Fix-It, Self-Sacrifice, Torture, Chronic Pain, Chronic anxiety, magical healing and how it fails, Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Chronic Mental Health Issues, Assassination, renamed my, Families of Choice, Original Supporting characters, Unreliable Narrator(s), Demonic Possession) last suggestion, and this probably isn't it, but it has a lot of Yunmeng Trio & Yu sect interactions (mostly Jiang Cheng centric, but wwx is there too lol)

FOUND! Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) the reunion scene is on ch31

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20. Hello! I’m looking for a fic where during the Sunshot Campaign, Wei Wuxian was able to tame the Xuanwu, resulting in victory. However, he wasn’t fully able to control its bloodlust so it was sequestered onto an island in Lotus Pier.

However, he leaves one day for a brief visit to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, JGS paid a child to visit the island and the child is killed. This causes WWX to go with the Xuanwu into the water surrounding the island and he disappears for many years.

Later on, Jin Ling ends up trying to prove himself by going into the forest surrounding this island (which has since filled with resentful energy). And finds that WWX has come back and the Xuanwu has been purified.

I’m not sure if it’s been deleted??

FOUND? The Turtle Master by Gotcocomilk (M, 40k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JL & WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Character Death Fix, shijie lives, Hurt/Comfort, OC Child death, zombie turtle!!, BAMF WWX, isnt he always, Fluff and Angst, first half is pain second half is soft)

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[ineffable-endearments]

Trying to picture where Crowley goes from the end of S2 and it looks like this to me:

Sticking around Soho: I have read lots of fic and seen lots of art for this premise that I love. However, if I'm going to try to guess where actual canon might go, this option seems both too painful for him as a character and too stagnant for the story. Like, wasn't the point of the beginning of the season that he had stagnated? It feels like the Final Fifteen was the cataclysm that had finally broken that stagnation. Something about the flow of Crowley staying in or near Soho, or his Mayfair apartment, for that matter, doesn't seem right.

Going off to live his own solitary life, like as a hermit or as a snake in a cave or something: Seems way too boring for Crowley. He needs things to do.

Going off to live in a human community: This could happen. I could see him living in a human community that he wants to protect from the Second Coming. But it seems a little too healthy and well-adjusted for the climax of the story's conflict, right? No? Maybe? I think we see many signs that Crowley is moving in this direction in Season 2, but he might not quite be there yet. Or he could be! I started off thinking this probably isn't it because it felt too easy, but there's a bit of poetry to the Serpent establishing his very own Garden that he wants to protect and, after everything is said and done, accepting a lost angel into it. Er, maybe that's a bit too sugary or uneven. Idk. I'm rambling.

Going back to Hell to become a "proper" demon: Lol.

Going back to Hell to fight against Heaven: Mmmmaybe? My main problem with this is the fact that the strings in Hell are ultimately pulled by the same people/person who run things in Heaven (the Metatron?), and while I'm not sure he's explicitly said anything about it in the show yet, I think Crowley is savvy enough to figure that out. So rejoining Hell simply to abide by their rules and start another war does not seem exactly right. One of his primary points in the Final Fifteen was that you can't fight an oppressive system by cooperating with it, and in the end, Hell is cooperating with the system as much as Heaven is. I guess we could assume Crowley hasn't quite figured it out yet, and his discovery of who's really in charge could be a plot point.

Going back to Hell to agitate the demons to revolt: This feels pretty good to me. Whether it's by taking on a position of authority and secretly feeding a resistance or by taking advantage of the chaos to establish an openly-rebellious group, I feel like Crowley could do this. It feels right for a moment of high conflict because it would involve significant character growth - Crowley choosing to embark on a mission to save the world instead of haphazardly getting thrown into it. However, since he'd be actively working to undermine Hell and would have to figure out where he belongs if the system does indeed collapse, encouraging resistance would not, on its own, get him to where he needs or wants to be. There would still be plenty of room for change and growth.

Maybe, if Crowley tempts his fellow demons to enjoy Earth things like Aziraphale does, he could slowly get them working toward stopping any future Armageddons just because they, too, have found things they like on Earth. Encouraging demons to enjoy Earth would potentially give Crowley a chance to work with more humans. It would also give him a chance to work toward one goal (Hell saves Earth?) only to accidentally accomplish another (demons discover free will).

Mandatory acknowledgment that I could be COMICALLY wrong here.

[fairyniceyeah]

💎🍚 I’m tryin’ to hold on

Title from Domino (SEVENTEEN)

Summary: Wonwoo and Seungcheol notice that Woozi isn't feeling well during a filming. While he manages to push through the aftermath gets worse.

CW: emeto

Sickie: Jihoon/Woozi

Caretakers: S.Coups/Seungcheol + Soonyoung/Hoshi + Joshua

Keeping track of twelve other people was about as hard as people imagined. Seungcheol could definitely attest to that. Ten minutes into a shooting break and absolute chaos had broken out.

It didn’t help that half of the group acted like children and the other half treated them like children. Maybe it was his own fault, really. He should have read the parenting books his brother had gifted him as a joke years ago. Well, more than the one or two he had actually read. Jeonghan had made fun of him for weeks after he had accidentally found out. At least Seungcheol had had the decency to not mention it when he found one of the books in Jeonghan’s backpack a few weeks later.

As he observed the field they were at, his gaze was immediately drawn to DK, Hoshi and Seungkwan who somehow decided that acting out a three man sword fight with wooden sticks was the greatest way to spend the break. Jeonghan, Jun and Dino were edging them on. Great. At least Jeonghan and Jun knew they would be in deep shit if something went wrong. 

Mingyu, Vernon, Minghao and Joshua were also watching from a distance but acted like they were more focused on the buffet beside them. Alright, three and three and four that made ten. He himself was eleven. So he was still missing two members. 

His question of the others whereabouts was half-answered when somebody tapped his shoulder and he came face to face with Wonwoo. The other rapper was frowning a bit, his nose scrunched up in worry.

“Everything okay, Wonwoo-yah?”, Seungcheol asked, already on high alert.

“I'm fine, hyung. I think something might be up with Jihoon-ah though”, Wonwoo answered.

Seungcheol looked around to spot their smallest member but he couldn’t find him. This was suspicious. 

“He’s over there, sleeping, I think”, Wonwoo said and pointed in the direction of Seungkwan failing to block one of DK’s hits, which caused yelling about death and injury from the rest. Jesus Christ. Kindergarteners. 

But as Seungcheol squinted a bit he saw where Wonwoo was actually pointing. Behind the group of members, there was a small silhouette sitting on the ground, leaning back against a tree. Woozi had his cap pulled into his face and seemed like he wasn’t at all bothered by the noise happening less than five meters away from him.

“He hasn’t eaten yet. And he didn’t try to strangle Hoshi when he came up with … that”, Wonwoo gestured at the renewed “fighting”, this time with Jeonghan instead of Seungkwan. “If he was just tired he would have told them to shut up.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but agree. Their personal prickly hedgehog would never pass over an opportunity to yell at Hoshi (it was all in good spirit most of the time, actually Seungcheol wasn’t sure if they were even able to communicate under eighty decibel if off camera).

“I’ll go see what’s up”, the leader said, slowly making his way towards their producer but trying to stay as far as possible away from the group so he would not get dragged into any shenanigans. Or was asked to referee or something equally stupid.

He had managed to avoid the chaos, luckily, and sat down next to Woozi, leaning against the tree as well. The younger at first didn’t acknowledge his presence and when Seungcheol looked him over he saw his eyes were closed.

To his surprise, however, he was greeted by a short: “What do you want?” 

Apparently the younger was awake and did not appreciate his company mustering him. Jihoon sounded annoyed and … down? Seungcheol wasn’t sure that was the right word to describe it but now he was really curious.

“Wonwoo said you haven’t eaten”, Seungcheol stated simply. It would be no use trying to get anything out of the younger - either he would tell the leader what was up or he would not. Mostly it was the latter.

“So?”, Woozi asked, clearly annoyed at having his precious loneliness disturbed by such stupid questions, “what’s it to you?”

“I’m worried”, Seungcheol shrugged, fingers pulling at the grass at his side. “You haven’t eaten and you haven’t yelled at Hoshi for that.” At the perfect timing the member led out a loud scream, jubilant apparently.

“You want me to yell at Soonyoung?”, Woozi asked perplexed, for the first time lifting his cap from his face. Seungcheol hoped it was just the shade and his natural paleness that made the producer look that white.

“Well, no. I just thought you would”, Seungcheol replied, suppressing a laugh. 

“Yah! Hoshi, cut it out”, Jihoon called, wincing at what seemed to be the volume of his own voice. Maybe he had a headache? The producer tended to get bad headaches so Seungcheol wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

Hoshi stuck his tongue out at his dongsaeng, making a finger-heart and then proceeded to ignore him.

“Better?”, Jihoon asked, raising a judgmental eyebrow at Seungcheol. The leader could help but laugh a bit.

“Much”, he agreed, “but are you sure you’re okay? Again, you haven’t eaten and you look like you have a headache.”

Woozi sighed. “I may have a little headache, but it’s okay. I’m just not very hungry.”

“Why don’t you eat a little, hm? We have tons of rice, you like that”, Seungcheol coaxed him, “I’ll even pester Jeonghan or Wonwoo for painkillers if you want me to.”

The producer sighed again. “Okay, I’ll eat but only to stop you from annoying me. Just don’t tell the others, I’ll be fine.”

Seungcheol grinned. Mission “make-Woozi-eat” on the way to success. He jumped to his feet and reached out his hands to pull the younger up. Reluctantly Woozi reached up and dusted himself off before following Seungcheol to the buffet.

💎

Filming was finally done. Hallelujah. Seungcheol was admittedly very done with the day and he did look forward to relaxing at home. Well, that would have to wait. He really wanted to find out what was wrong with their tiny producer.

It had been clear to all of them that Woozi had been struggling throughout the later parts of the shoot, turning into a mix of tired and uncomfortably short-tempered towards everyone. Wonwoo had done a good job of keeping him in his sight at all times since Seungcheol and Woozi had been split into different teams. The leader had seen the quiet rapper try to talk to their dongsaeng but be brushed off.

Sadly, Seungcheol didn’t need to wait until they got home to find out what was wrong. He, Jeonghan, Jun and Mingyu were still looking over some footage from the filming with a manager when Dino and Vernon came running. The others had already been shooed to the cars and instructed to wait there for them.

“Coups-hyung, Coups-hyung!”, Dino called and came into a skidding halt in front of the group. They all turned to the two maknaes, who both looked equal parts worried and confused. Vernon was left panting and leaned into Jeonghan who was already fussing over them.

“What’s wrong, Dino-yah? Hansol-ah?”, Seungcheol asked, patiently waiting for them to catch their breath but also very anxious about what had sent them running.

“It’s Woozi-hyung”, Dino explained, a look of disgust on his face, “he just threw up.”

Shit.  

Seungcheol had of course known something was wrong but something that bad he had not expected. But, well, that explained Jihoon’s earlier behavior though it left Seungcheol even more worried. If the producer was sick surely it would soon spread through the group soon enough. He already dreaded that.

“Wonwoo-hyung told us to get you”, Vernon added, “Shua and Hoshi-hyung are with him.”

Seungcheol would forever be grateful to Wonwoo, who knew that Seungcheol would be worried and knew that Woozi would probably want him rather than anybody else. 

“You finish up here, Dino-yah can help you”, Seungcheol said pointedly, especially to Jeonghan who he knew was probably as ready to check on Woozi as Seungcheol himself was. But there was no point in crowding their dongsaeng, he would hate all the attention. “Hansol-ah, can you take me to them?”

Vernon nodded and with a quick apologetic bow to the manager and the production team, Seungcheol fell into a quick step beside his dongsaeng. “What exactly happened?”, he asked, chewing on his lip.

“I don’t know. We were standing around, waiting, playing games. I mean, Woozi-hyung didn’t participate much but he never really does and he seemed exhausted all day. One second we’re having fun, the next he turned around and just got sick all over the ground.”

The leader winced in sympathy. He didn’t doubt that if he wasn’t embarrassed now, Woozi would absolutely be when he recovered. 

“It was chaos really, but Shua was with him immediately and Hoshi-hyung, after a moment of shock, too. Wonwoo-hyung managed to keep calm and took the others aside and asked us to get you. I don’t think Woozi-hyung would appreciate an audience”, Hansol continued.

“No, he would not”, Seungcheol sighed. In that moment they turned a corner to the cars and there Woozi was, sitting on the ground, leaning back against a car with Hoshi and Joshua on each side of him.

“Thank you for getting me. Go back to the others, Hansol-ah”, Seungcheol ordered lightly, glad that the younger followed his instruction without protests. 

💎

As he came closer to the trio Seungcheol could see just how awful Woozi looked, his head resting against Hoshi’s shoulder, the older having an arm wrapped around him. Joshua was rubbing Woozi’s knee in a comforting gesture. There was a clear, and thankfully empty, plastic bag clutched in the producer's hands.

“Hi, Jihoon-ah”, Seungcheol said as he approached them and knelt down in front of his sick member, “I heard you’re not feeling so good?”

Woozi shook his head slightly, not looking up at Seungcheol at all. Still, the leader could see the tear tracks on his face. He felt terrible for his dongsaeng, knowing how much he valued his privacy and despised showing vulnerability. Getting sick while two-thirds of the group had been watching must have been terribly humiliating for him.

“I’m sorry, hyung”, Jihoon whispered. Seungcheol couldn’t help but wince at how awful his voice sounded. It seemed like vomiting had done a number on the younger’s throat already. “I … I didn’t think it was so bad until it suddenly was.”

“Don’t be sorry, Jihoon-ah”, Hoshi scolded, without any malice in his voice, “you’re sick, it happens.”

“Well, I don’t want to be sick”, Woozi grumbled, resembling a petulant and whiny child especially with his stature being dwarfed by Hoshi and Joshua. While the two were certainly not the tallest of the group, they were still much bigger than the producer they were sandwiching and who had curled up into a small ball of misery.

“I know you don’t”, Joshua placated him, “but you currently are and I’m sure you’ll feel better once home and laying down, hm?”

“I gu …”, Jihoon agreed but suddenly went quiet in the middle of his sentence, face tinting a bit greenish. Seungcheol could see how badly he didn’t want to be sick again though it was obvious it was inevitable. The harsh, forceful swallowing and the short breaths were a clear sign of impending vomiting.

“Shua, why don’t you go sort out everything so we can leave as soon as possible?”, the leader suggested, though it definitely was more of a command. Jihoon easily was overwhelmed with so many people around him when sick and while Joshua had seen him get sick before, Woozi would appreciate it if he left them alone. 

Since they were trainees Seungcheol had always been the one Jihoon had sought out when sick (or at least when he couldn’t hide it anymore) and over the years he reluctantly allowed Hoshi to care for him too. Also that might have to do with the facts that a) Hoshi had a soft spot for the producer and b) Woozi had an even bigger soft spot for the dancer. And c) - while he never would admit it - since he was the youngest of the three leaders, Woozi was their baby and he trusted them more than anyone.

Luckily, Joshua seemed to know that and he quickly got up to leave, squeezing Seungcheol’s shoulder before vanishing. The leader scooted a bit closer to Woozi, who - now that it was only the three of them were left - had brought the bag to his mouth.

“It’s okay, Jihoon-ah”, Seungcheol soothed and Hoshi added: “Don’t worry, it’s just us.”

Apparently that was enough or maybe Woozi couldn’t hold it back anymore. He gagged dryly a few times and then with a disgusting sounding retch, sick spilled into the bag. Seungcheol had originally planned on just staying with them and not crowding Woozi, especially since Hoshi was already holding back his long, blond hair and rubbing his back, but he saw how much Woozi’s hands were trembling. Fearful that he would not be able to keep ahold of the bag and the consequences of that, Seungcheol reached over and helped hold open the bag - though he definitely would have loved doing anything but. The bites of rice from earlier were barely digested and looked the epitome of disgusting as they came back up.

Woozi’s retches and gagging were the only sound ringing through the silence, occasionally interrupted by Hoshi murmuring soft reassurances how Woozi was going to be okay and that he was doing great. Every wave of nausea seemed to force its way out of the producer, his back heaving with the effort. Seungcheol imagined that the poor younger man’s stomach muscles would probably be pretty sore tomorrow at the latest. The force of the illness seemed to overwhelm the small body; despite having bulked up a lot after working out for so long there was still a fragility to him. Tears were streaming down Woozi’s cheeks and Seungcheol hurt for him.

Suddenly everything was over and Woozi collapsed to the side, his head falling against Hoshi’s shoulder in a way that looked painful but didn’t seem to disturb the producer. It was then that Seungcheol was glad he was holding onto the bag because the rest of Woozi’s strength seemed to leave his body and his grip loosened. 

Seungcheol moved the bag to the side and tied it off to be disposed of at a later point in time. 

“Do we have water?”, Woozi rasped, letting Hoshi wipe his tears with the older man’s sleeve, “I’m thirsty.”

While it definitely was a good sign that Woozi showed signs of wanting to drink and staying hydrated, it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering he had just thrown up twice in the span of less than twenty minutes. 

“I’ll text somebody …”, Seungcheol started but was distracted as Hoshi looked over at some point above his shoulder. When he turned around he saw Wonwoo walking towards them, a bottle of water, some wet wipes and a couple of trash bags in his hands. Impeccable timing. Wonwoo should definitely get the award of “dongsaeng of the month” and if there wasn’t one, Seungcheol would create it specifically for him.

While the rapper looked a bit awkward, a bit stressed, he just handed the items to the leader without hesitation. “I got you some supplies and the director insisted that I tell you he hopes that Woozi-ah feels better soon”, he said, scrunching up his nose again to keep his glasses from slipping, “uhm, manager-nim asks if you are ready to go back. We’ve shuffled the seating order a bit, so you three can go in one car alone. If you’re not ready, a manager will stay here with you until you are. The rest of us will go back soon nevertheless.”

Hoshi sighed and looked down at the sleepy producer in his arms, hand coming up to play with his hair. “What do you think, Hoon-ah? Ready to go back?”

“I doubt I will feel better soon”, Jihoon answered, meaning it doesn’t matter when I go I will feel awful no matter what and I’d prefer to be home soon. At least that’s what Seungcheol guessed from experience.

“Give us a few minutes until you all come back to the cars, Wonwoo-yah”, Seungcheol decided, “we’ll get him to drink something and into the car. Once we’re home I’ll come with them to their dorm.” He gestured at Hoshi and Woozi. “If Jeonghan and Seungkwan want to shower, tell them to go to one of the other dorms. Wait, you know what, tell them to go to a different dorm anyhow.”

“Alright”, Wonwoo said and hurried off, taking the bag of sick with him. Seungcheol appreciated it a lot, yet was also thankful that Jihoon didn't seem to notice. He could only imagine how much the younger would have hated to see somebody deal with that because of him.

“Alright”, Hoshi echoed, “try to take a few sips, slowly, so you don’t make yourself sick again.” Seungcheol opened one of the bottles and, still not trusting Woozi’s shaking hands, he tipped the bottle against his lips. Woozi took in a mouthful of water before signaling the leader to stop. For a moment both hip hop and dance leader were worried he was about to be sick again but the vocalist just swished the water in his mouth before leaning over to the side to spit it out.

“My mouth tastes awful”, Woozi complained. Fair enough, Seungcheol mused, knowing the younger hated that. Maybe they could find a breath mint for him somewhere. With thirteen members it was a guarantee that somebody would likely have the item you were looking for. But still, Woozi was thirsty so Seungcheol helped him take a few sips, slowly as Hoshi had advised.

When Seungcheol pulled the bottle away Woozi pouted a bit, clearly not happy. 

“You can have more later when you were able to keep that down, okay?”, Suengcheol soothed.

“Fine.”

“Let’s clean you up a bit and then we’ll go sit in the car and we’ll be back home in no time”, Hoshi suggested and took a wet wipe from the box. For a moment Seungcheol was sure that Jihoon would protest the treatment but it was something about Soonyoung’s soft gaze that seemed to let the protests die on his tongue.

Hoshi gently wiped Woozi’s mouth - the rest of his face was clean enough and would have to wait for makeup remover - and his hands. Now that the immediate action had died down, Seungcheol dared to ask: “How is the headache?”

“Not so good”, Woozi mumbled, “I really want to sleep.”

“Soon”, Seungcheol promised, “let’s get you up and into the car. Are you ready to stand up?”

A nod. Hoshi quickly jumped to his feet, nearly losing his balance in his hurry, and went to open the car doors on the other side of where Woozi was still leaning back against the van. Seungcheol also got to his feet and reached down to help the producer to his feet for the second time that day. For a moment Woozi swayed and Seungcheol was prepared to lower him back to the ground but then he found his footing. 

“Do you want the front seat or would you like to sit in the back with us?”, the leader asked as they walked around the front of the car, one of his arms wrapped around the smaller’s shoulders. While Woozi didn’t tend to get motion sick easily - unless he was already feeling unwell, which he was - he still might prefer the passenger seat to watch the outside.

“I don’t want to be alone”, Jihoon whispered, not looking up from the ground. Seungcheol rubbed his upper arm in comfort. 

“You don’t have to be. Let’s sit you down, okay?”, Seungcheol answered and helped the younger step inside the van, where Woozi scooted through so he sat against the window on the opposite side to the door. Before Seungcheol could even question it, Hoshi had jumped into the seat beside him and started to fuss over the younger. Plastic bags were stuffed into a cup holder and a hand reached out to take Woozi’s.

Just as Seungcheol was about to enter himself the rest of the group approached to get into the other cars. They all were wearing looks of concern and since they all knew what had happened, the leader moved a bit away from their van to ask: “Does anybody have a breath mint? Peppermint? Something like that.”

Most of the group shook their heads but Seungkwan started to rifle through his bag until with a triumphant shout he held out one of these small metal cases containing mints. It probably had been some merch gift from an Europe tour and Seungcheol profoundly thanked him. The members quickly got into their respective cars and Seungcheol turned to do the same.

“Cheollie, wait”, Joshua called and he turned back around to find him, Wonwoo and Vernon shuffling from foot to foot in anticipation. “How is he?”

“Not good, still really nauseous. I don’t know what’s wrong but if it’s a stomach bug, we should probably quarantine their apartment so it hopefully doesn’t spread. I will stay with Jihoon-ah and Soonyoung-ah, Jeonghan and Seungkwan will have to deal with staying somewhere else.”

“I was with him too”, Joshua said softly, “I probably should join you.”

As loath as Seungcheol was to admit it, the other was right. He sighed. “I will ask Jihoon-ah if he is okay with you coming with us. Don’t take it personally, you know how he is.”

Joshua nodded and ushered the other two inside the car. The other van had already left. 

Seungcheol poked his head into their car, smiling softly at Jihoon who was sitting with his eyes closed, looking mostly asleep.

“He’s awake”, Hoshi said, seeing the hesitation. At that Woozi opened his eyes.

“Hey, I got mints for you”, Seungcheol said, waving the box before giving it to Hoshi to pass it along, “would it be okay if Shua came with us? In case you have the flu we’d like to quarantine everybody who was in close contact with you.”

“I guess”, Jihoon agreed, not looking happy but also not like he hated the idea, “I don’t want anybody else to get sick.”

“Thank you, Hoon-ah”, Seungcheol said and waved Joshua over. Quickly both of them climbed into the back with Seungcheol directly behind the sick member and Joshua behind Hoshi. The driver had already entered the car while Seungcheol was out and so they soon left.

💎

The drive obviously was very hard for the sick man. Within minutes a bag was laying open on Woozi’s lap for quick access. While Woozi had his eyes closed, leaning against the window with Joshua’s hoodie as a cushion, and Hoshi held his hand again there was an uneasiness about him. It was clear that no matter what he did, which position he tried to rest in, he couldn’t get comfortable. 

Jihoon held out a surprising thirty minutes, about half of their rather long drive, before his eyes shot open and he ripped his hand out of Hoshi’s soft grip to grab the bag. As soon as he had the bag in front of his mouth he was sick again. Having anticipated this, though not as sudden as it had come, Seungcheol leaned forward to gather his hair into his hands to hopefully spare it the mess. Soonyoung was rubbing Woozi’s thigh in comfort, again whispering comfort. Joshua, who had been listening to music before, turned to look outside the window, giving the younger some semblance of privacy.

As suddenly as it had started, the vomiting stopped and Jihoon gasped for breath. 

“Can I take this?”, Hoshi asked tenderly, indicating the full bag. Jihoon nodded and let the older take it from him. Seungcheol let go of his hair but continued playing with it knowing Woozi secretly liked the sensation of somebody rubbing his head. 

The younger sighed and slumped into his seat. Hoshi tied off the bag, put it into a second bag just to be safe, and then handed him one of the breath mints.

The energy in the van was low, exhausted, and it reflected as no further conversation took place. 

💎

It seemed like finally Woozi was able to sleep, however, and Seungcheol already dreaded waking him the moment they pulled into their dorm's garage. And indeed, as gentle as they were, they didn’t receive much more than eyes sleepily blinking open before falling shut again. 

They all knew how much Jihoon hated to be carried, shy of his body stature and the way he looked in comparison to other members even after all those years, but there was no way they would get him up to the dorm any other way. Luckily the others seemed to be in their dorms already and they needn’t fear meeting anybody on the way up.

So while Hoshi disposed of the bag of disgustingness and Joshua gathered most of their stuff, Seungcheol tried to lift Woozi into his arms despite having to stand ducked in the van. Finally, he managed to get a tight grip on the producer’s back and under his knees and with Joshua gently guiding him out backwards, Seungcheol stood cradling his dongsaeng to his chest.

“Let’s get him to bed”, Hoshi sighed, clearly very worried for his friend. The other two walked in front of Seungcheol, opening doors and pressing the elevator’s buttons. Woozi was deeply asleep against his chest, head resting on Seungcheol’s shoulder and he was even drooling a bit.

Once in the apartment, Hoshi pulled back the covers of Woozi’s bed so that Seungcheol could put him down. “Should we wake him to take some meds?”, Soonyoung asked quietly as they both watched the younger sleep for a moment.

“No”, Seungcheol decided, “let him sleep. We can change him out of his clothes and wipe his makeup off. If he happens to wake up during that we’ll see if he is up to taking anything but right now, I think, he should just rest. It’s just a matter of time until he is sick again, probably.”

Sadly, Seungcheol knew his last statement was likely very true. With all the hours spent at work, the long sleepless nights at the studio and Woozi’s less than amazing immune system, he was always down hard when he did finally admit to being sick. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right”, Hoshi agreed, “I’ll get the make-up wipes from the bathroom and see if Shua-hyung needs help finding stuff. Get him out of these clothes?”

Seungcheol nodded and considering their size difference it was relatively easy to get Woozi out of his shirt and jeans, well, as easy as undressing a limp ragdoll who was still rather big and muscular. But just as Joshua and Soonyoung entered again, carrying supplies in their hands, Seungcheol was done. The producer felt warm to the touch, probably the beginning stages of a fever, so it was probably best to not overwhelm him with heat. So Seungcheol had only pulled a fresh T-shirt over his head, leaving him in that and his boxers.

Joshua spread an old towel on the ground beside Jihoon’s head and placed a bucket on it for further emergencies. Hoshi had rounded the bed and now perched on the bed to carefully wipe off the make-up.

As the cool cloth touched his skin, Woozi opened his eyes sleepily. He barely seemed awake and let Soonyoung do as he pleased or just didn’t seem to notice. The younger was definitely not awake enough to swallow any medication - but Seungcheol wasn't too worried about that.

“Hey Hoon-ah”, Seungcheol said and took his small hand in his bigger ones, “you can go back to sleep if you want.”

They luckily had gotten forehead thermometers during the pandemic so there was no need for him to be awake to take his temperature. Joshua had stepped around Seungcheol and the bucket to hold the device to Woozi’s forehead, who really didn’t seem awake enough to notice.

With a frown, Joshua showed Seungcheol the reading of 38.6°C, a moderate fever and higher than expected. Even if the reading might be a bit inaccurate, there was no way the younger wasn’t feverish. The glossy look in his eyes was enough evidence of that. 

Woozi nodded slowly to Seungcheol's earlier statement and let his eyes fall shut. 

“I’ll get a cool cloth”, Joshua whispered and left. When he returned, Hoshi and Seungcheol had pulled the blanket over the shivering producer and Hoshi gratefully took the cloth from Joshua’s hand to fold it over Woozi’s forehead.

There was nothing else to be done but wait how the illness further unfolded.

“Go rest in the living room or whatever”, Seungcheol said with a sigh, sitting back down on Jihoon’s bed. “I’ll stay with him tonight, no need for all of us to stay awake.”

“That’s a good idea”, Joshua agreed and pulled a rather reluctant Hoshi with him out of the door.

💎

As expected, the sickness wasn’t over then. During the night Seungcheol was up with Jihoon multiple times, consoling his overwhelmed, feverish dongsaeng. Woozi had never been good at being sick. He barely let Seungcheol leave his side to wash out the bucket when needed, clearly not wanting to be alone. At least he managed to drink some water, even if it later came back up, and managed to keep down the fever reducers for about long enough that they might start to work.

Morning found Seungcheol exhausted but Jihoon with a less high fever. Joshua forced Seungcheol to sleep during the day, only waking him for a late lunch, so that his sleep rhythm wasn’t completely wrecked. Jihoon had only gotten sick once during the morning but he still didn’t really feel up to eating.

They had managed to relocate him to the couch, the bucket still within easy reach and the rest of the afternoon was spent watching movies and trying to keep their unwell producer awake so he could sleep through the night and hopefully feel better the next morning. Hoshi had even managed to find a hot water bottle to soothe the sore stomach muscles. 

At least they had not had schedules for that day.

Since the company rules were as such that nobody was allowed to work within twenty four hours after vomiting or a fever, Jihoon would have to stay home the next day as well but Seungcheol was fairly positive that he, Hoshi and Joshua could work around the schedule so that one of them would always be home with him just in case. None of them were feeling bad and so maybe, maybe it was just a single case of illness or maybe something Woozi had eaten.

💎

That thought held until Seungcheol woke up at four in the morning that day to sprint to the bathroom. Oh well…

Notes: This is my very first Seventeen fic, so please let me know if you liked it and if I characterized them right!

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

[anonymousoneshots]

Thing For Me (Part 3)

Roman Reigns x Reader

Rating: 18+ NSFW

Warnings: Dry Humping, Kissing, Public

A/N: I know this is a shorter chapter, but I have so many ideas for this. This is just the beginning. Let me know if you want to be part of the squad! And please let me know your thoughts about that ending. 😉

Squad: @pusiqw @fame-ass-ers @lux-angels @fictitiousbeing @southerngirl41

It was Saturday of the following week and you were heading into the backstage area at a house show, your first event since Wrestlemania. Your encounter with Roman had consumed your every thought. You couldn’t shake the feel of his fingers gripping your bare thigh, or his voice so close to your ear. You also couldn’t forget how quickly his demeanor had changed, and how awful he made you feel before you left. Your mind was chaos, and Roman was in every whirlwind.

Why had he acted so crass? How could he be so magnetic and warm, then suddenly go rigid? Was I a disappointment? God, he was probably grateful for Jimmy’s interruption and to be rid of having to please me. I was a fool, and this was most definitely a game to him. I fully expect everyone here to know what we did, how I threw myself at him. How many girls has he run dry? And if he’s really that bad, then why does my stomach flip at the thought of his touch, why does my mind keep defending him? How do I shake this thing for him?

Despite your hurt, there was a piece of your heart that leapt at the thought of seeing him. What a mess he’s made of me. You turn the corner lost in your thoughts, and nearly walk right into him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say before realizing who it was. You glance up and meet his gaze, and your stomach drops. He looks bored. You wait for him to say something, but instead he steps past you and continues walking down the hall. You stand there for a moment, stunned. The bastard didn’t even acknowledge me. What is his problem? You sigh and shake your head, continuing down the hall, which now seems infinitely emptier.

The whole night you were avoiding everyone. You refused to meet anyone’s gaze, and kept to yourself with your head low. You just had to make it until the end of the night, then you could continue avoiding everyone until Monday. You pretty much had a successful night of no interaction until you best friend, Serena, spotted you walking and jogged over. She was one of the seamstresses for the women’s ring gear.

“[y/n]! Wait up. You look like someone ran over your dog,” she remarked. You stop walking and begrudgingly turn to face her. You suppose you did look rather distant, maybe even a little disheveled.

“I’m fine,” you managed, and smiled at her. In an effort to change the subject, you pointed over to her work station.

“Who’s gear are you fixing up today?” She narrows her eyes at you, but thankfully decides not to pry.

“Becky’s, and I’m way behind. I’ll catch up with you later?” She kisses her fingers and lightly touches them to your cheek before turning around and heading back to work.

“Perk up! Roman’s match is next,” she calls over her shoulder.

Despite yourself, you watch Roman’s match. Despite him being an asshole and leaving you in the dust, you couldn’t turn away. He was thriving off the heat from the crowd, and you caught your lips turning up at that cocky, satisfied grin that plastered his face as he circled his grounded opponent. He was a wolf, and your skin was prickling at the memory of him eyeing you like that. Shaking the sensation creeping up your thighs, you click off the TV and turn away. Screw him.

Roman’s match was the last of the night. After packing up your things, you moved to head out of the arena as quickly as possible, throwing on a pair of black sweats over your ring gear. Winding through the labyrinth that was backstage, you pass lots of familiar faces. And each time you glance up at a face that isn’t Roman, your heart stumbles. You’re nearly at the exit where the buses are waiting for you when you overhear a conversation.

“The Bloodline don’t lose, man!” It was Jey’s voice. You quickly steal behind an empty hallway and peer around the corner, listening. Jey and Jimmy were standing in front of Roman, clearly fired up about something.

“Wait until Monday, we’ll hand his ass to him,” Jimmy chimed in. Wait. Roman… lost? Your gaze drops to the floor as your eyebrows furrow, not grasping the fact that he actually lost. That hasn’t happened in years. A small laugh of disbelief escapes your lips. Serves the asshole right. Karma is a God. You glance up to notice Roman’s eyes drilling into you. You’d been made. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you quickly turn away and start down the hall. Shit.

“[y/n].” This was some serious deja vu.

“Why is it I’m always catching you sneaking?” He questions you.

“You lost tonight,” you say, and turn around to face him. This is the first conversation you’ve had since you stormed out of his room.

“You sound surprised. Didn’t watch your Tribal Chief tonight?” Roman teased, a wolfish grin playing at the corner of his lips. You unconsciously squeeze your thighs together. Roman referring to himself as Tribal Chief made heat rush to your core. You tilt your chin up defiantly, refusing to let yourself melt for him

“Maybe you’re to blame for my loss.” Roman steps closer to you, and you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. You can smell the scent of his sweat mixed with soap, teasing your senses. Roman leans in closer to you, speaking softly so only you can hear.

“Maybe you need to be punished.”

“And you need to get over yourself,” you retort, despite the pooling at your core. “I’m not a toy, Roman.”

You turn on your heel and start to walk away, but he grabs your wrist and whirls you back around. A playful smile rests on his lips.

“But you can be. And I promise you’d like it.”

You immediately drop your gaze, extremely flushed. So much for defiance. Roman is still gripping your wrist, holding you in place, so close to him. Suddenly you come to your senses about where you are, and worry that someone will witness the interaction. You tug your arm and try to release his grip, but he doesn’t budge.

“Roman,” you say, looking up at him, a bit of panic alight in your eyes, “someone could see.”

His grin expands as he releases his grip on your wrist and takes a small step back.

“Where’s the fun in being cautious?” He asks.

“If your idea of fun is being reckless and a grade-A dick, I’m not interested.”

Roman lets out a laugh, and walks around you like a predator planning how to enjoy their meal. Your heart picks up speed, and you take a deep breath in. He really is toying with you. And fuck him and your senses, because you’re so turned on by it. He makes his way back to face you, and reads you like a book. Suddenly his hands on on your waist and he’s pushing you backwards, lifting you up and setting you down on one of the roadie trunks. His body is positioned between your legs, and his face is inches away from yours.

You can feel his dick hardening through his pants, pressing into your aching core. He places his hands flat on the trunk at your sides, leaning in closer. Your lips part in anticipation of a kiss, but he just studies your eyes. You’re both breathing rather heavily, waiting for the other to make a move. You can’t take the tension anymore as what feels like minutes pass, so you crash your lips into his, gripping his bare chest. He kisses you back hungrily, grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands away from him, wrapping your arms behind your back.

Your core is pulsing, and he’s grinding his dick against you with every movement. You want more of him, all of him, right now. But he still has your arms pinned behind your back, and you’re helpless. He pushes his tongue past your lips and explores your mouth. He tastes like peppermint. You start to try to wriggle your arms free as he devours you, needing so desperately to touch him, but his grips just tightens. He pulls away a moment later and studies you, breathless with reddened lips. You swear you can feel his dick twitch though his pants. You don’t want him to stop. You need more, more, more.

“Is that your idea of not interested?” Roman remarks, allowing you to catch your breath. “You were just so worried someone would see us standing close together then you dry humped me on the roadie cart,” he says playfully.

Your face flushes as you remember you’re in the middle of the hallway backstage, where anyone can walk by. You quickly wiggle free of his grip and push him away as you hop off the trunk. You start to glance around to catch any witnesses, but Roman, grabs your chin and makes you look at him instead.

Roman laughs again. “I’m going to have so much fun playing with you.”

“Screw you,” you say, as you tear your chin out of his grip and take a step back.

“I know you want to,” he replies smoothly, “but you’ll just have to wait.”

Suddenly you were seeing red, so filled with rage at him for playing with you and finding your frustration and panic amusing. You were about to tear him a new one, when you notice Jey down the hall, staring at you both.

The smirk on Jey’s face told you all you needed to know. He just nods his head as your gaze falls on him, and you swear you see his adjust himself through his sweats.

You’d been made. And if two was dangerous, what makes three?

[bobbydagen24]

what sorta story do you want to see in the next Christmas Special? assuming there is one.

so this is kinda a combo of both what you'd like to see but also what you think is a more likely option so no Kismet and Bro zone at war with each other stories as fun as those are cause we kinda know they won't be happening at least not in a Christmas Special. anyway I do think it is fairly likely and would make for a nice little story maybe just Branch over stressing himself trying to make sure his first Christmas with his Brothers back is "" Perfect "".

but of course despite his over planning family Drama strikes maybe JD and Bruce get a bit petty and competitive over the family board games.

Clay keeps rearranging things in certain ways that he's used to organising things and Poppy and Viva keep getting crazy ideas for other fun stuff they could all do that don't mesh with Branch's planned out day. anyway in the end things all end up a mess due to the family chaos and Branch maybe loses his Rag a little with everyone. stating that he used to dream when he was a kid about having these big family special occasions and he just wanted a normal family Christmas for once given how many he spent without any of his family in his life.

only for him to go off somewhat upset but I feel his Brothers would go after him and apologise for the day not panning out like he wanted but also kinda light-heartedly point out that this is how these things usually go. back when their family was together their special occasions were always crazy and disorganised as hell and also Bruce would probably point out its the same every year with his other family. to steal a quote from one of my favourite episodes of Brooklyn nine nine where Jake and Amy's parents meet and chaos ensues I like to imagine Bruce's pep talk to Branch being somewhat similar.

Bruce= "" Hey Branch you know how you said you always wanted to have a big family Christmas? well I have a wife 13 children two parent in laws 4 Brother in laws 3 sister in laws and overall 16 nieces and nephews by marriage who spend every Holiday together I had the kind of family that you always dreamt of "" awkward silence. Branch= "" oh are you done? that seems like a really mean place to stop talking but you seem to be taking quite a long pause "" Bruce= "" when we were all together it was a Huge mess I can't tell you how many special occasions I've spent in the Hospital but that's part of what it means to have a big family like this one ""

I could maybe imagine something along these lines for some good old emotional Trolls cheese.

also FR tho I Hope it gets acknowledged in the next Holiday special how big something like this would probably be for Branch.

given so far since the first film he's had one Christmas that he spent with Poppy that being Holiday in Harmony ( don't forgot the first Holiday special doesn't actually take place at Christmas )

but before that he presumably spent every special occasion doing his own thing in the Bunker alone which is sad AF when you think about it especially when he was a kid 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

so the next specials gotta acknowledge how different this would be for him finally spending Christmas with a family in his life again when it hasn't been that way for him since he was a friggin baby.

like Daaaam if that don't make his Bros feel bad about themselves then I don't know what will.

@incurable-bookkl3pt0

[iicheeze]

3 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, AND 33 MINUTES

3 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, AND 33 MINUTES MASTERLIST

SUMMARY || you've always had feelings for your gray haired senior. To the point that you'd confess to the man in front of the whole Akademiya. Pitying you, he gives you 3 months, 3 days and 33 minutes to make him fall for you. Let the roller coaster of chaos begin!

PAIRINGS || Alhaitham x Gender Neutral Reader, slight Kaveh x reader

TAGLIST || @star-star-fall-inlove @nachotrash @baelloraa @itonashi @tanspostsblog @kalpie @makimakimi @nishayuro @hugs4dottore @sassy-cat-in-town @aloveablechaos @ceylestia @severedvigility @i9tto @6-022-10-23 @duhsies @suwnshine @xiaos-wife1 @kysrion @kunikuzushisbeloved (BOLD MEANS I CAN'T TAG YOU, TAGLIST OPEN!!)

TW || gendered terms like girl or buddy, READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL!!!!!! other than that idk unfunny-ness ig idk 😭 just read to find out

CHAPTER II — [Name], The Reckoning

“ HAHAH!!! HAHAHAHAHA!! ”

The haunting laughter echoed throughout the hallway of Teyvat Akademiya Dorms. Obviously, coming from none other than you, yourself.

“ SHUT THE HELL UP, DAMMIT!! I'M TRYING TO FINISH MY FUCKING ASSIGNMENT, YOU DAMN LUMMOX. ” Tighnari screamed, his head peeking out of his dorm room. “ Sorry, man. ” And with that, the door slammed shut.

“ Give me my five dollars, Mona. ” You demanded, with Mona slowly reaching out to her almost empty wallet.

Long ago, you and Mona made a bet. If Alhaitham accepts your confession, Mona will give you ten dollars. But if he rejects you, you give her ten dollars.

But since this one is a special case, Mona will only give you five dollars.

“ Congratulations for getting accepted! Now.. What next? ” Bennett gave you a pat on the shoulder, while also giving you a question. Silence filled the air with awkward tension.

“ To be honest, I didn't plan this far. ” “ GIRL, HOW DID YOU EVEN GRADUATE HIGH SCHOOL???!?! ” “ I don't know too. ” “ Lord, save us. ”

“ OKAY, OKAY!!! I'll search up on how to woo a stubborn guy. After that, I'll list it off. Then, I'll physically do it to him and bada bing bada boom, we're a couple. ” You winked, as your friends dead pan.

“ I'll wish you the best, [Name]. You'll need it. ” Kokomi smiled innocently at you, as the rest nods along with her statement. “ THANKS??? BUT WHY ARE YOU SAYING IT WITH THAT TONE?? ”

It was the weekend, so you decided to use your time lazing around searching up on how to woo a man with a personality like Alhaitham's. Sadly, they all sound very hard.

Like... What do you mean ‘ Make sure they have all the facts. ’ ?????

The only stuff you wrote down are;

Let him come to you. Obviously not gonna work 💔

Open up to him.

Be his friend.

Stay flirty.

Focus on your common interests. What interests 😭

Make him laugh.

Be silly in front of him.

Go on adventures together. Wtf we aint dora and boots hell no

IF ALL FAILS, THEN GIVE UP GIRL!!! HE AIN'T WORTH YOUR TIME!!!

You wrote the sentence in bold with massive letters at the end of the list. Who knows, maybe this chance is just pure luck or he just wants to toy around with you.

BUT!

You still have a chance, albeit small, it's still a chance!

And you're obviously taking it.

I mean, what the hell. He has a hot body.

“ I wonder if he's a virgin. ”

Kaveh was just taking his break at the local Sunbucks near Teyvat Akademiya, trying to get away from the annoying roommate of his.

But his moment of peace was disrupted by a single ding from his phone.

Message Notification from [Name]

What the hell are they up to now

He clicked the notification bar, and it quickly showed up to his chat history with the person.

[Name]

PLSE HELP ME IM STUCK 😭

You

wtf wdym stuck

[Name] is typing. . .

[Name]

so i confessed to ur roommate ye

and he actually gave me a chance

except theres a time limit for it and if i dont make him fall for me within 3 months 3 days and 33 minutes i cant talk to him or even acknowledge he existed in this timeline 😭

Kaveh couldn't help but think.

How the hell did you even got him to give you a chance what kind of fuckery did you use [Name]

You

and wat do you want me to do abt it im not him tf 🤨

[Name] is typing. . .

[Name]

d-d-d-d

do u know anything abt him

if u do

can u

pls tell me 🥺

You

WTF stop talking like that you sound like an e-kitten 🤢🤮

[Name]

STOP HWAT NOOO 😭

You

idk abt that gray haired bitch hes friendless and a virgin wtf u want me to do

[Name]

AYO WHAT HE A VIRGIN??????

boutta peg him fr fr 😈

You

💀

plus all i know is that he aint prioritize no one but himself

he doesn't deserve u 😒

[Name]

but I deserve him 😍

does he like uhhh

my jokes

You

dont u dare

we all know ur humor is as bad as cyno's

[Name]

but

i have rizz 🔥

You

the only thing ur gonna get is a rizzstraining order from him wtf

no one likes ur jokes [name]

just accept the truth

[Name]

😭

this is why u get no bitches

“ Jesus Christ, [Name]. . . ” The blonde man mumbled to himself, face palming. He was about to leave the cafe, before he saw another text.

[Name]

i seriously want him to like me tho

It was just a simple text, and he knows of your crush for his roommate for quite a while.

So why did it strung his heartstrings?

AUTHOR'S NOTE || SORRY ITS SHORT AGAIN THE NEXT ONE WILL PROBABLY BE LONGER 😭😭 if there's any mistakes be it readers gender or more please tell me 🙏🙇

also taglist is still open feel free to ask to be in it 😍