#and it would cause me to feel anxious that someone was looking through my window

[whump-galaxy]

I've been thinking of getting into Magnus Archives... give me your thoughts... worth it? (You might be biased but I need to know-)

This will be a little disorganized, I apologize!

From someone who tried to watch it before, the first 15 or so episodes feel kind of slow. When you don’t have a big picture yet, these episodes don’t feel like building blocks.

However, as the series goes on, this view is fundamentally shifted and you realize that every episode, every name, every creature is important in some way or another.

From a writing perspective, all of the characters are extremely interesting. They evolve overtime when dealing with these insane new circumstances. I think the most visible changes are in Tim and Jon’s demeanor after the S1 finale.

I also love the intertwining narratives that talk about how we view people through what we’re told. We’re set up to absolutely hate a character, but find out they weren’t some evil asshole all along. Or another character that we assume knows very little, we find out they’ve been setting up and tricking others the entire time.

It can be complicated to keep track of. There’s a lot of names, a lot of locations, a lot of creatures, but often the characters will explain themselves what they think is going on.

There are some episodes that can be a little hard to make out when you have an auditory processing disorder like me. Anytime the tape recorder gets muffled, I generally have to focus on the video more to understand what they’re saying. But that doesn’t happen often.

If you’re looking for horror, whump, monsters, angst, etc it’s got it all. The main character struggles with his identity in this new world he’s been exposed to and it’s wonderful to listen to. He gets his ass kicked basically every other episode after S1.

The voice acting is top tier. Gertrude is a particular favorite of mine cause she just sounds exactly like what I pictured. But all of the VA’s have incredible talent, especially Jon.

I recommend this show highly, but only if you’re in the mental state to handle it. When I first tried to listen, I was not on anxiety meds, and it did cause irrational panic. Now, however, I am on anxiety meds and able to enjoy it fully.

I believe there are content warnings from episode to episode, but skipping episodes is a little difficult when 3/4th the episode may be a statement and 1/4th is the Archive characters talking.

Maybe I’m a bit biased, but I think everyone should try listening to it at least once. It’s easy enough to put on in the background while gaming or doing work. S1 was relatively slow, but S2-3 has caught me like a fish on a hook and is reeling me towards the end.

So go out and listen to it. Heed the content warnings. Take breaks if you need. And enjoy it!!! It’s good!!!

[rafey-baby]

c/w: stalker!rafe being creepy & stealing reader’s underwear, suggestive texts from an unknown number & a stranger walking her home, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.3k

he’s been on my mind lately…happy kinktober xx

moodboard

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The feeling of impending doom has been crawling up her bones for several weeks now.

At first, she thought it was merely her imagination playing tricks on her—thinking every creak of a floorboard was a murderer after watching one too many horror films with her friends. However, as the days went on and the feeling of unease continued, she began to feel paranoid. 

She kept feeling like someone was watching her; lurking in the shadowy corners of her house and following her every movement with a curious gaze glued to her form whether she was out with friends or in the process cleaning her living room. And she didn’t like it one bit—couldn’t pinpoint when it began but she wanted nothing more than for the peculiar feeling to disappear.

She’d be getting ready for bed and changing her clothes when suddenly a shiver would tingle along her spine and make her snap her head towards her window—trying to desperately catch some creep ogling her, so she’d finally have some sort of an explanation. But instead, she’d be met with nothing more than the leafy trees of her gloomy backyard glaring back at her before quickly drawing the curtains closed. 

In addition, she’s been having nightmares more often than usual; waking up in the middle of the night with labored breathing and heart in her throat. And sometimes she swears she can still feel the eyes of a stranger lingering on her sweaty skin. 

Then one night, when she’s rinsing her mouth after brushing her teeth, her phone lights up with a notification.

unknown number

why are your bedroom curtains never open anymore?

look so pretty in your underwear…

4 attachments

The device clatters against the bathroom tiles when it slips from her hold after her eyes have scanned over the multiple pictures of her half naked. They’re all taken through the glass of the large window in her room—a window she’s made sure to keep covered at all times lately.

She plucks it from the floor with trembling fingers and reads over the messages once more—distressed heart rapidly thudding in her ribcage making it hard for her to think as her fingertips glide across the screen. 

you

who is this?

im gonna call the cops

unknown number

do I scare you?

And instead of responding, she blocks the number. However, when the police arrive and search her house and her backyard, they don’t find anything. They merely tell her that it’s ’probably nothing serious, just some kid pulling a prank on you’ with an apologetic smile before leaving. 

A couple of days go by, and she’s beginning to believe that maybe it was truly someone playing tricks on her when all of a sudden, her phone vibrates with an incoming call from another unknown number while she’s boiling pasta for dinner.

And this time, she decides to ignore it, choosing to believe it’s someone simply calling the wrong number for her own peace of mind. However, that’s long forgotten when a new message illuminates the screen—making her breath get caught in her throat when she reads it over. 

unknown number

breaking my heart here princess :(

you

leave me alone

unknown number

but that’s no fun, is it?

you

what do u want from me?

unknown number

want you to keep your curtains open

you

so u can take more pictures of me?

unknown number

can just watch if that’s what you prefer?

you

leave me alone

please

She doesn’t wait for a response before turning off her phone for the rest of the night. And she thinks he’s actually listened because no unknown numbers try to contact her for some time, causing her to grow less anxious by each silent day that rolls around. However, when she begins to notice that pairs of her underwear keep mysteriously disappearing, her mind wanders over to the only person who could be behind it.

At first, she doesn’t think too much of the fact that she can’t seem to find her favorite panties anywhere, assuming she’s merely misplaced them. However, when a white lacy pair she saves for special occasions vanishes next, she grows restless. If she hasn’t worn it in months, it should be in her drawer where she left it, right?

And the air suddenly feels like sand—poking at her lungs as if it’s filled with tiny rocks when she becomes painfully aware of the fact that in order for him to steal her stuff, he’s had to break into her home. Which means that he’s been in her bedroom before, and probably her kitchen, living room and bathroom as well. And the first time could’ve easily been weeks ago.

Nausea steeped in dread grovels up her insides and sits heavy in her stomach at the realization that he could be in here right now. But if he wanted to hurt her, he would’ve done it by now—or at least that’s what she keeps telling herself in an attempt to offer some kind of solace to her troubled thoughts.

- - - - - - - - - -

The following night, she’s wiping her eyes clean of mascara when a text pops up.

psycho stalker

someone came home late

have fun on your date?

Chills erupt on her skin when she peers down at the screen. But after the all too tedious date she’s just had, she’s entirely too exhausted for his gruesome mind games right now—simply wants to bury herself under her covers and close her eyes for an eternity.

However, she’s not entirely convinced he won’t come up with another way to disturb her if she stops responding altogether, which is why she decides to entertain him for a little while.

psycho stalker

assuming not too much fun since you didn’t bring him home..

you

none of ur business 

psycho stalker

was he boring?

talked about himself the whole time and didn’t ask a single question about you?

She blinks a few times because he’s not exactly wrong. How on earth did he— 

you

what the fuck is wrong with u

ur following me now??

She tries to remember whether she saw anyone suspicious at the restaurant, but she can’t recall anything out of the ordinary catching her attention. However, she wasn’t aware she was supposed to keep her eyes open for her possible stalker, which is why her brain isn’t being very helpful at the moment.

psycho stalker

just wanted to make sure you were safe

you

yeah well i feel very safe right now thank you

psycho stalker

someone’s got an attitude

that bad?

you

please just leave me alone 

psycho stalker

okay

if you tell me the color of your panties

you

what the hell?

im not telling u that

psycho stalker

want me to come over and find out for myself then? 

you

u wouldn’t do that 

psycho stalker

wanna bet?

She tries to even out her respiration because she does not want to find out whether he’s merely toying with her or if he’s actually being serious. 

you

…

black

psycho stalker

with the lace?

you

i don’t even wanna know how u know that but yes

psycho stalker

shit

that’s one of my favorites on you

you

ur sick in the head

psycho stalker

that’s not very nice

did you wear them for him?

you

he wasn’t even worth it

don’t think he would’ve been able to make me come if he tried

psycho stalker

yeah?

need help with that?

you

not from u

creep

why are u stealing my underwear?

psycho stalker

cause you don’t give me shows anymore :(

i mean they’re a little dirty now but want me to return them?

you

ur disgusting

psycho stalker

and you’re up past your bedtime cause you like talking to me

you

i don’t

u promised to leave me alone right?

psycho stalker

you’re the one texting me right now

you

cause u won’t leave me alone

can u just keep ur promise? im gonna sleep now

psycho stalker

sweet dreams princess

And after that, she finally locks her phone—wishing she’ll actually be granted some well needed rest tonight.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Then one night, she’s walking home from the grocery store—mind occupied with the prospect of digging into the tub of strawberry ice cream in her bag while messaging a friend who’s telling her the details of a kiss she shared with a girl she’d had a crush on for ages—when completely out of the blue, she bumps into someone.

“Oh, m’so sorry,” she’s quick to apologize before she blinks up, meeting blue sapphires that twinkle even under the dim street lamps—slightly covered by the guy’s chocolate hair falling into his face before he rakes a hand through the strands. And the nearly surprised raise of his brows doesn’t really make any sense to her because she’s never seen him before.

“S’all good—wasn’t, uh, wasn’t really lookin’ either,” he rasps while his intense gaze bores into her, almost as if he’s studying her, examining her every reaction. 

“No, it was my fault, shouldn’t be texting and walking at the same time,” she forces out a laugh and attempts to step away from him to continue her journey, but then he speaks up again.   

“Shouldn’t be walkin’ alone this late either, you know? All kinds of creeps out there just waitin’ for the opportunity to attack pretty girls like you,” he reminds her with a strange tinge in his voice, causing the hairs on her arms to stand.  

She’s unable to pinpoint what it is exactly—thinks his features are otherwise quite appealing but then there’s something almost disturbing about his aura. 

“I know, but it’s really just a ten-minute walk. I’ll be fine,” she offers him a tight smile, timidly fiddling with the strap of her shopping bag.  

“Why don’t I walk you home, yeah?” his seemingly genuine offer comes off as something other than concern over her safety in the stillness of the darkened October sky, making unease litter across her skin.  

“Thank you but I think m’okay,” she politely declines before trying to tiptoe away from his intimidating presence, albeit uselessly.  

“S’past midnight already, let me walk you,” he nearly insists, seemingly not accepting no for an answer with his tone resembling more of a demand now. 

“O—okay, um…sure,” she swallows around the words and watches the corners of his mouth tug up. What has she gotten herself into? For all she knows, this man could be a serial killer and she’s just signed up her fate as his next victim. 

The murky sidewalk they tread along is quiet while she keeps glancing over to him every now and then—an attempt to reassure herself that a knife or a gun hasn’t magically appeared in his hand without her noticing.

Although, she thinks he wouldn’t need a weapon to drag her helpless form into the woods with his much stronger arms—under the obscurity provided by the trees, he could easily strangle her until her soul withers away, getting his fix from leaving her limp body on the muddy moss as death kisses her cold, tear-streaked cheeks.  

“Somethin’ on your mind?” his sudden question makes her flinch. 

“N—no, nothing. I just…have we met before?” she hesitantly asks, turning to look at him and noticing his gaze already resting on her face.  

“M’sure I’d remember if we had,” his response is calm, too calm for her liking.  

“S’just that—well, it’s a small neighborhood and I’ve never seen you around?” she flits her eyes over his features, trying to figure him out. 

“I don’t live here,” his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip; the vague answer not soothing her racing mind in the slightest.  

“Oh, okay...cool,” she peeps out, trying to appear as nonchalant as ever, even if her breathing has turned fragmented and her head is spinning.

A gruesome smirk morphs his mouth in response, and for some reason he appears to be enjoying this—finding crooked entertainment in her dismay. Then, he halts in front of her home before she’s even digested that they’ve already arrived to her destination.  

“How did you—how did you know this was my house?”

“Lucky guess,” he merely shrugs with a smile that’s nowhere near comforting. 

She swallows.

“Right, well, thanks for walking me...m’gonna go now,” she squeaks out before taking a tentative step towards her front yard.  

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

“What did you just say?” her entire form tenses in response to the familiarity of the nickname—something dire bubbling up in her throat at the bizarre sense of deja vu. 

“Jus’ wished you a good night…you feelin’ alright?” he furrows his brows in what should appear as concern for her wellbeing, but she hesitates upon noticing something twisted glinting in his overly worried eyes—almost like some sort of sick satisfaction.  

“I’m—m’fine. Just…tired, I guess,” she manages out, a crease forming between her brows when his mouth curls.  

“You sure?” he places a heavy hand on her arm, suddenly far too close for comfort and causing her to flinch before she’s attempting to pull away—stumbling on wobbly feet and nearly tumbling down onto the harsh grass, if not for his stronger arms holding her upright by her waist. 

“Careful now, don’t wanna hurt yourself, do you?” he scolds her with a click of his tongue while steadying her.

“Sorry,” the breathy apology escapes her lips before her eyes flicker down to where his touch is burning her skin, even through the thick material of her sweater. 

“Run along then, yeah?” he murmurs, letting her go with a small push towards the right direction.   

And she doesn’t need to be told twice before she’s scurrying over to her doorstep, feeling his eerie stare following her while trepidation clogs her lungs. Deciding against glancing towards him once more, she closes her front door and makes sure it’s locked, twice.

[arcaneauthor]

would u be able to do han jisung cute things he does as your bf?

Cute things Han does as your bf

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Tags: established relationship, fluff, just Han being a lovable dork basically, I’m so bad at tags idk

Warnings: mentioned anxiety, mentioned kissing ig?? Apparently I’m bad at warnings too

Author’s note: As someone who fully believes there is not near enough Han fics on this app I’m so glad you requested this. Hope you like it!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He’s tried on multiple occasions to cook these extravagant meals to surprise you with when you get home but they almost always end up with you coming through the door to the smell of something burning as Han panickedly scrambles around the kitchen. And the times it’s not immediately went up in flames, it’s mostly inedible.

His face always turns beat red the moment you both take that first bite and he watches as you struggle to try to act like it’s good in order to save his feelings before you both just in the long run decide take-out is the best option.

As we all know Han himself has pretty bad social anxiety which means he knows the signs very well. So he’ll be the first to notice when you’re feeling anxious or your social battery drains. He’ll start rubbing your back or put a hand on your thigh to try to comfort you without drawing too much unwanted attention to your current condition knowing that will just make it worse, or if it gets really bad he’ll excuse y’all and make up some kind of excuse as to why you have to leave.

This of course makes you feel bad and start apologizing to which he immediately assures you it’s completely fine and laugh it off about how it was a boring party anyway. (It wasn’t. He was actually planning on staying another hour or two but he would never tell you that)

Always so adorably clumsy. Like there’s been multiple instances where he’s leaned in for a kiss too enthusiastically and you’ve bumped foreheads. His boba eyes turn so round as he immediately starts spewing apologizes, frantically checking your forehead for a mark at which you just start chuckling at the absurdity and cuteness of your boyfriend. Which in turn makes him laugh and then it’s just so contagious that y’all both start cackling.

As Han himself has stated, he is a very bad impulsive buyer. Which means he will literally buy you presents like every other day. It’s to the point where you have to very kindly tell him that even though you loved his gifts, if he kept buying them so frequently he would end up broke lol

Makes it Tea time all the time. Girl I’m telling you spill the tea to this man at every possible moment, he 👏eats 👏it 👏up👏. Literally the best to gossip with.

He sets up little date nights at the house for you since you’d both rather stay in together most of the time anyway. Though these “date nights” usually end up looking like what people would normally picture as a “girls night” lol. Face masks, cups of tea, kdrama playing, etc. but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Neck kisses. Just-yeah

Constantly cracking cheesy jokes around you just cause he loves making you laugh.

Play wrestles with you which then somehow turns into a tickle fight as you both are giggling like children. Grabs you up by the waist when you try to escape him. “Oh no I’m not done with you yet.” You’re kicking your legs trying to get free while still laughing so hard tears are coming out your eyes.

Loves to take you on little one day trips when he has time. Not to some busy tourist spot but just some isolated scenic routes or something. Just you and him, windows down with music playing softly in the background as he locks his hand with yours. Just enjoying each other’s company as you gaze at the beautiful world around you

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

End notes: so this one kind of got out of hand lol but it’s not my fault this man has been bias wrecking me so hard lately😖

[totallynotslothhh]

HOLD ME TIGHT PT.2

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

word count: 4,380

warning: angst, smut, fluff, spanking, crying, smoking, fwb

description: The relationship between Joost and y/n seems to be going well, seemingly about to evolve, but an event drastically shifts y/n’s perspective, starting to make everything crumble.

author’s note: Hi everyone, you have no idea how eager I was to publish the second part. I absolutely love writing heartbreaking and painful stuff, you’re going to have to suffer a little, BUT FEAR NOT, I’m already working on the third part, which I’ll try to release by the end of this week, or at the latest, the beginning of the next. Please be patient. While I was writing this fanfic, I had a vivid image of Joost in 2022, so I based everything on that version of him. However, since I kept the descriptions pretty broad, I think you’ll be able to imagine him from any early era in his career.

That said, I’ll leave you to the reading now, and I’ll see you soon (probably with some meltdowns).

big kisses!

(sorry if there are grammatical errors, I tried my best, English is not my first language!!!🙏)

part.1 part.2 part.3

——————————————————————

The first rainy days of September had started to appear: grey, cloudy days, with the humid air that still hinted at the summer heat, yet gently pushed you into the thought of the cold that was soon to come.

I inhaled from the cigarette filter, savoring the bitter but damnably familiar taste of smoke, staring out at the courtyard of my apartment and the street that stretched out from my bedroom window.

-You’ve been smoking more since you started seeing Joost.-

It had been two months since my first time with Joost.

Two months since the subject of my thoughts and worries had shifted. Two months since someone had come into my life who I didn’t yet know would become the most important person in it.

We had built a relationship of unstable balance. There was always a little piece of my day dedicated to us. Whether it was in the morning, afternoon, or evening, a quick text, a call, or a meeting, whether there was sex or not.

Sex was the major protagonist of our encounters and desires. It’s true, our friendship had become mostly physical, but there was always a margin of interest in each other. We shared a mutual affection that went beyond just the act.

It showed in the small things, things that seemed small but were actually huge.

For example, he remembered the brand of cigarettes I smoked, what foods I liked and disliked, he knew how to handle me when I was sad, knew what to do when I was nervous, could read me just from a glance.

I had become an open book. Even if I tried to pretend I didn’t care about him, I couldn’t pull it off: do heart-eyes come with every look?

-Your heart’s beating fast.-

Feeling that explosion of emotions terrified me: the thoughts that always drifted to him in my free moments, the desire to see him, that kind of anxious excitement before meeting up, the chills running over my skin the moment our eyes met. That wave of sensations scared me. I didn’t want to fall in love, didn’t want to start something new, especially since the wound from my last love was still fresh.

No longer bleeding, but still open and fragile.

So fragile that a single touch could make it bleed again.

Joost was healing a wound he hadn’t caused. Without knowing it, he was soothing me with a beautifully calming rhythm, slowly making me trust him.

-Did you sleep more last night, or am I wrong?-

But it wasn’t time yet.

Would that time ever come? I didn’t know.

What I did know was that this relationship would end. Like everything else, even the good things come to an end.

Especially the good things.

The question was: would it end by evolving into something deeper, or would it break under the weight of our anxieties?

-Breathe. Relax. Enjoy the moment.-

I sighed, letting the smoke out through my nose. I rested my chin on my palm, holding the finished cigarette with the other hand.

That day, I felt particularly overwhelmed. I’d been working all morning, hadn’t carved out even a tiny bit of time for a break. Cigarettes were my “break,” if you could call it that: two minutes of filling my lungs with filth, paradoxically relaxing. Paradoxically warm.

I chuckled at the thought, glancing at my desk. It was messy and mirrored my state of being perfectly: scattered papers, small pencil sketches covering their surfaces alongside important notes, my laptop dying and about to shut off.

I took one last drag, then crushed the filter on the cold windowsill and finally closed the window.

Sniffling, I returned to my spot and checked my notifications.

No notifications.

-I want to be with Joost.-

I furrowed my brow and, without thinking twice, opened our chat, filled with quick messages but also silly or meaningful conversations. When we couldn’t see each other, any excuse was good enough to stay in touch.

Just a few minutes to make sure we weren’t letting go of each other. Holding on to that safe place.

“Wanna meet up later?”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

Surprisingly, I got a reply immediately, before I even had time to put my phone down.

That was strange, considering Joost usually took forever to answer a message.

A carrier pigeon might’ve been faster at showing signs of life.

Sometimes I almost felt lucky to have him in my life. He was always busy with creative work, but still made the effort to give you attention.

“I was just about to text you and ask the same.”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

That message brought a shy, stupid, useless smile to my face. And as soon as I realized it, I shook my head, biting down on my lower lip.

-Was he thinking about me?-

“At your place?”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

“Come over when you’re free.”

Sent today at 5:17 PM.

So, after reading that last message, I turned off my phone and stood up, stretching and mentally cursing the version of myself that had bought chairs as uncomfortable as they were beautiful.

Needless to say, I left work on hold, weighing the desire to see the guy who gave me orgasms worthy of divine classification, against the need to finish the work I had piled up.

A good worker would’ve chosen wisely.

At 9:00 PM, I was in his bed.

My exhaustion gone after yet another round of sex that served as a release from those heavy, endless days. The simple feeling of his lips on my body, his hands in my hair, his gaze on me, and his dick buried deep inside me while he praised me and told me how beautiful I looked naked. Well, it made me feel good.

My head rested peacefully on his chest, legs tangled in the white sheet and with his, while I lazily caressed his calf with the top of my foot. I felt his fingers softly travel across the warm skin of my back, his calm breathing rising and falling beneath the hand I’d placed on his chest, playing with the hair there, mimicking his movements.

The welcoming silence thundered in my ears. His heartbeat set the background to the thousand thoughts flowing gently through my mind. The feeling of truly being wanted cradled me.

It was those moments.

Those moments I lived with premature nostalgia, thinking of when we’d part, of how much I’d miss them when I’d be alone, of how stupid I was for starting something like this.

“What are you thinking about?” His deep, raspy voice, thick from silence and exhaustion, made me shrug, caught slightly off guard.

“Nothing” I answered in a whisper, letting my hand glide across his stomach and down his side, trying to cuddle closer. In response, he gently turned toward me, letting me curl into him even more.

“Liar, you’re too quiet” he said, wrapping me in his warm, pale arms, brushing a hand against my cheek, which was now tinged with a soft blush.

“Just tired” I whispered, almost not wanting to break the silence between us.

I looked up at him, seeing his eyes, now narrow slits, likely trying to focus on me. He looked so innocent with that little curious pout, without his glasses, and with messy hair.

“Hungry? Want to order something?” he offered, stroking my cheek with his thumb, keeping his gaze on me, at least as much as he could.

“Maybe later” I nodded, savoring the warmth his palm gave me as it cradled my face. Touch was definitely a language that went beyond words. It was an expression of love that reassured me I wasn’t making a mistake.

Physical closeness made me feel safe, made me feel wanted.

“I really want to kiss you” he murmured a moment later, making me smile as I felt the grip of his other hand tighten, more eager, on my bare waist. I looked at him and noticed the hint of sleep in his expression. It made me laugh, because I already knew where this would end: kissing sloppily, filling the room with wet sounds, soft moans, and giggles.

“How will you do that if you can’t see?” I raised my eyebrows, watching his confused frown fade as I reached toward the nightstand and grabbed his thick glasses. Both his hands slid to my hips, and I felt his lips lazily rest on my shoulder.

“I still don’t get how you manage to see anything” I shifted slightly, putting his glasses on him and holding his face to lift his gaze toward mine. His sleepy expression hadn’t changed, but his eyes were more focused now, filled with desire, mirrored in the way he gripped my warm, tingling skin.

This boy made me feel everything.

In seconds, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. We started kissing, our tongues dancing inside each other’s mouths. I felt his breath growing heavier, his grip dropping to my ass. I kept one hand on his face and the other resting gently on his chest. He bit my lower lip and pushed his hips involuntarily against my thigh, his half-hard length pressing against me. He squeezed one cheek and kept kissing me hungrily.

I moaned into his mouth and instinctively brought my other hand to his cheek too, caressing him with my thumbs and pulling myself closer.

I felt overwhelmed, and it was the most beautiful feeling, because I knew, no matter what, Joost would be there to handle it.

He pulled away for a second to look at me. To observe my flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes, glossy lips parted just enough to breathe. He gently pushed me under him, letting his hands explore my waist again.

“I could kiss you without stopping” he murmured warmly against my cheek, making me smile and move my hands to his shoulders. He began kissing his way from my cheek to my lips, then down my body, leaving little bites that drew soft moans from my throat.

“I’m bringing you to my next concert” he whispered against the warm skin of my chest, looking up at me but never stopping his trail of kisses.

“What?” I giggled, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him up for a kiss. I hadn’t quite caught the meaning of that sentence, I was more focused on how wet he’d just made me again.

-Didn’t catch it, or didn’t want to?-

“You said you’d like to come. I got you a backstage pass” he repeated, kissing my lips again before nestling into my neck, not giving me time to fully process it. I paused, eyes widening, pulling away slightly to stop him from kissing and distracting me more.

“Really?” I whispered, laughing and halting my hands in his hair. He looked up and locked eyes with mine.

“Yeah, You told me once you’d like to be there.”

I had told him. Almost a month ago. And he had remembered.

He had remembered that tiny sentence buried in a much larger conversation about his budding music career.

“you remembered it..” I whispered, unable to hold back a smile, which brought one to his face too. I felt his hands grip my hips, and his face disappeared from my view as he buried it once again in my neck.

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me” he said, sliding a hand between my legs, pressing his middle finger against my clit, then moving it between my already wet lips. I clenched around nothing, arching my back slightly and grabbing a fistful of his blond hair.

“You like it when I touch you, huh?” That phrase made me shiver and moan, writhing under the continuous pressure at my throbbing center.

“Yes… don’t stop- keep.. keep going” I murmured with closed eyes as I felt his fingers slowly push inside me, deepening the sensation alongside the bites he placed on my skin.

“I can’t wait to take you backstage, to fuck you, to cover your mouth while I pull your hair” he murmured. That image only heightened everything, his fingers curling inside me, his thumb circling my clit. I bit my lower lip, my breath quickening as chills ran down my spine. The heat from his body, the sheets, and the pleasure itself was so comforting I could’ve melted right then and there.

I felt his hips press against my thigh, his growing hardness brushing against my skin.

“Please, Joost…” I whispered, opening my eyes and tugging gently on his hair to lift his face. He did so, increasing the rhythm of his fingers, eyes locked onto my expression, entirely lost in pleasure.

“Turn around” he instructed softly, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to my lips. I opened my mouth and welcomed them, tasting myself as I sucked them hungrily. His breathing grew heavier, his arousal harder against my leg, and his smile deepened as he pushed his fingers further into my mouth. I licked them thoroughly before releasing them.

“You’re beautiful. Always” he whispered as he slowly sat up, supporting himself on his knees to give me room to turn over. I rolled onto my stomach, tucking my shoulders in and arching my back deliberately, accentuating the curve of my hips.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you naked beneath me… you’re even more” he said, making me blush and bury my face into the pillow. His hands took hold of the soft skin of my backside, giving it light taps and gentle squeezes as he leaned forward, trailing kisses down my spine, focusing on the dimples just above my hips.

After a few moments, I sensed him move away to grab a condom left ready on the nightstand. I raised my hips slightly, feeling exposed. When he returned to the bed, he didn’t take long to land a sharp smack on my right cheek, making me gasp and moan into the pillow, the sound fading into the rhythm of our heavy breaths.

He slid into me, gripping my hips tightly with urgent hands, which soon after struck my skin again, reddening it. He plunged his full length in and began to move at a steady pace. That position was one of his favorites: I could tell by the way he groaned, the way he caressed my back, the way his voice faltered with each thrust. I was starting to understand those parts of him too.

“God.. I- fuck..” he moaned roughly, driving into me with force, pressing his chest to my back, panting against my ear, leaving wet kisses on my shoulder. One of his hands smacked me again before grabbing both cheeks, spreading them slightly, as if to remind me he was in control. The pleasure was overwhelming. My face was pressed into the softness of the pillow, one hand clutching the pillowcase, the other buried beneath it. The sound of our bodies meeting filled the room, layering more heat between our naked skin and the craving for a physical pleasure that somehow calmed the soul.

I tightened around him, moaning loudly as his fingers moved to my clit again, adding an electric edge to the sensation.

“Come for me, baby, come” he whispered through ragged breaths, keeping the same intense rhythm, his circles on my sensitive bud pushing me closer to the edge. His other hand found mine, intertwining our fingers, still gripping the pillowcase.

I felt my legs tense, breath caught in my throat, and the knot of orgasm unraveled, taking me over in seconds. I closed my eyes and let the wave crash over me, breathless, as Joost continued his movement until he followed, spilling into the condom, giving his last thrusts meaningless, still clutching my hand like it was the only anchor he had.

He covered me in kisses and caresses, the urgency of sex now wrapped in the softness of intimacy.

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me.”

That sentence echoed in my head for days. It was etched into my heart, engraved in my memory. He was taking me to one of his concerts because he had read between the lines of my words. He was taking me to his show, and all our friends would finally see the kind of bond that held us together.

We had done everything in secret without even meaning to. It wasn’t about hiding, we had just kept things private.

It wasn’t supposed to be more than sex.

Supposed to, because whether I liked it or not, I felt it that day.

Something romantic was growing. I was becoming more aware of the bond forming between us, strengthening with each passing day.

I saw it in his eyes. I saw it in his smile. I felt it every time we were together, heard it in the whispered words, in the how are you? he’d send me throughout the day.

The fear was slowly slipping away. I was starting to let go, to trust him more and more.

-You’re moving forward. Letting yourself be led by the depth of the passion that binds you… isn’t that what love is?-

And finally, the day of the concert arrived. A day that was meant to be the most beautiful of all, the fullest, the most emotional. I would finally see him perform, I’d see him on stage, full of life. I would be there for him.

A day that was meant to mark the beginning of something deeper.

But happiness crumbled all at once. Reality hit me in the face, suddenly. My eyes saw what they shouldn’t have seen, not during that time, not on that day, not in that moment.

Not in those fragile, delicate moments.

It was the morning of that fateful day, a quiet and strangely peaceful Saturday.

There was something in the air, tranquility tainted by the joy of being part of such an important event for Joost. I had decided to go for a walk, planning to stop by the supermarket and grab something quick for lunch with him. After that, we’d leave together. We’d go together. I’d be with him all day.

But everything changed when I found myself walking down the aisles of that supermarket, torn between which instant ramen to get, trying to remember the favorite of the guy with whom I had, more than once, shared that simple meal.

I turned my head slightly.

Maybe it was an involuntary movement.

Maybe deep down I knew I was about to ruin that day for myself.

Or maybe it was just pure coincidence that led me to do it.

But I saw him.

I saw my ex-boyfriend standing right there, next to me, mirroring my action, holding two different packs of ramen. Probably to share with his new girlfriend.

My shoulders tensed, and without realizing it, I tightened my grip. I stood there, staring at his body, leaning casually on his right leg, his face caught in some sort of indecisive thought… And just his presence, so coincidental, so close, froze me.

My knees started to tremble. I could feel my heart pumping faster, sending blood coursing through my body. My mind was completely fogged.

I was so disappointed, so angry, and so sad that I got swept away by the confusion that took over my thoughts.

And it all got worse when our eyes met, when I saw the surprised look on his face. And then, that smile.

That damn smile I used to be so in love with, so lost in…

And for a moment, I was almost afraid of it.

“Hi, y/n.” Hearing his voice again didn’t do me any good, not at all. It caused a painful tightness in the middle of my chest.

My breath caught in my throat.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He stepped closer, and I forced a weak smile.

“Hi” I answered coldly, shifting my gaze back to the ramen that had now taken on the role of distraction puppets, something, anything to keep my mind off his presence.

-Is your heart beating fast for him too?-

“It’s been a while since we, uh… saw each other” he continued, his tone almost regretful, dripping with guilt. In three years, I had never heard him sound like that.

“Yeah” I replied, lifting my gaze again, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw how he was looking at me.

“I never really got the chance to apologize… for how I ended things.”

-Why was he telling me this? Why now?-

“It’s fine. I guess our paths were just meant to part” I replied simply, feeling the tension in my shoulders release just a little.

But… he had made the effort to say sorry.

Maybe…

“How are you? You look good.”

He slipped into my thoughts just like he used to. I smiled at that memory, nodded slightly, and let out a sigh I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“I’m good. And you?” It came out naturally, as if some part of me still wanted to know. And that scared me.

-You should hate him for how he treated you.-

We talked for maybe ten minutes. The most adrenaline-filled, fastest ten minutes of my life. Ten minutes that ruined my day, and the days that followed.

He said he’d like to see me again, to “talk things through, over a cup of tea.”

But would that really solve anything?

Was my racing heart just a reflex?

Or was I still caught up in him?

Did his presence matter as much as Joost’s?

-Did Joost matter as much as him?-

That question, that thought, those words, they haunted me the entire day. They made me distant, stuck in my head, detached from reality, drowning in guilt. Every time Joost reached for my hand, for my gaze, tried to read what was going on inside me. Every time he sought even the smallest touch, I felt myself sink deeper into the dark pit of guilt.

I could see it in his eyes, he wanted to talk to me.

He wanted to ask what was wrong.

But he didn’t have the mental space for it, not on that day, not like that. His face showed worry, but I gave him no room to ask. If he had asked too much, my guilt would’ve broken me, I would’ve cried. And that would’ve made things worse.

That day was his.

And I ruined it.

I ruined everything because of my mood.

I was finally backstage with all our friends, Joost’s team, and Joost himself, who was getting ready for the concert. I held a plastic cup with something alcoholic in it. The atmosphere was buzzing: nervous energy, joy, laughter, light teasing.

It would’ve been warm, welcoming… if I weren’t drowning in this internal mess. I lifted my gaze and looked at Joost from afar. He was laughing with a mutual friend, probably at some joke they’d shared. I heard his laughter from across the room and my expression softened.

A wave of pain hit my stomach, only slightly dulled by the sparkling liquid I swallowed.

-Why am I acting like this?-

My eyes dropped to the dark floor. My thoughts were clouded with images of both men.

I shouldn’t have been thinking about my ex, but how could I not?

“You sure you’re okay?” Joost’s voice startled me, a mix of concern and warmth. I met his gaze and smiled, but he didn’t smile back.

This time, he saw through me.

He knew I was lying.

“Yeah, hey, don’t worry about me.” I said, placing a hand on his arm, squeezing his shoulder, trying to stay close.

“I know something’s off. You’re not having fun? You don’t feel comfortable?” He asked again, clearly worried but I detected a flicker of irritation in his tone.

I couldn’t tell him what had happened that morning.

Not then.

That would’ve been cruel.

“Joost, really- don’t worry… I’m fine” I insisted, brushing my lips gently against his cheek and giving his shoulder another caress. He forced a smile. Pretended to believe me.

But the tension between us was unbearable.

When he came back to me after the concert, he was buzzing with energy, his white tank top soaked in sweat, face flushed, hair tousled. He couldn’t wait to hold me.

I saw it in his excitement, the adrenaline coursing through him. Everyone congratulated him, but I stood aside… feeling like I didn’t belong in that explosive moment of joy.

And as he came toward me, all I could think was that I can’t handle this. His energy, his light, it’s too much for someone like me.

-I have to talk to my ex. I need to know what he wants to clarify.-

That thought, beating in my head since the morning, was shattered in one instant. Joost cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine.

Time froze.

I tasted his freshness, felt his heart beating against my lips, his breath caught in the branches of his lungs, his hands holding my face so close. I kissed him back. But the weight of the moment broke me.

Everyone had seen us. And instead of feeling enchanted… I felt horrified.

Terrified.

Tears welled in my eyes. I gripped his wrists and when I pulled away, I couldn’t even look at him.

It felt like I had betrayed him.

“Hey…” His soft, breathless voice wrapped around me like a thread. He gently moved, trying to lift my face toward his. The tears slipped down freely.

I bit my bottom lip and shook my head, overwhelmed by shame.

“Please, talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.” His pleading made it painfully clear I was the problem. I was the one hurting this still-forming relationship.

Maybe it wasn’t even going to form at all.

I held back sobs, eyes shut tightly.

I felt so small in front of him.

“This morning, I saw him… and I don’t know if I’m ready to move on.”

I confessed. I didn’t even have the strength to look at him.

I had ruined everything.

Me and my insecurities had ruined it all.

And I didn’t want to ruin Joost.

That pure soul didn’t deserve it.

[adore-laur]

HOME IS A FEELING

— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃

——

"Don't turn around." 

The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.

"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around." 

"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good." 

You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country." 

It's not an exaggeration or a falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.

Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero." 

You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door. 

You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave." 

"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us." 

Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up. 

A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist. 

"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream. 

The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive. 

Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you. 

Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there. 

Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those? 

A gray, tattered sweater and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.

Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep. 

You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own. 

Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to?

He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of them still make your heart race.

Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.

Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth. 

"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat. 

You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to, since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to yours now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last? 

Snap out of it! 

"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat. 

After finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours. 

"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry. 

"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."

"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts." 

The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight. 

"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends. 

They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but is familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated. 

"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?" 

You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak." 

"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one." 

Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands, like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring. 

Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple of times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone. 

"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again. 

You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden? 

When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response. 

He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying. 

His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me." 

"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets. Harry huffs and sits in his seat.

Everything used to be so easy with him.

—— 

Two Years Ago

It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door.

"Knock knock." 

In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked." 

Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there." 

"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you." 

He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too." 

"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table." 

"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow. 

"Don't fall asleep."

"Mm, come here." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night." 

"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."

After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo calmed your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway.

Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you.

Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful. 

—— 

You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is. 

Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair. 

This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers. 

You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner. 

When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text—only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches, like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later. 

You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks. 

"Were my hands dirty or something?" 

Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there? 

"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously. 

Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned. 

He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?" 

Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked." 

"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice. 

"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?" 

"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school." 

Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?" 

"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself." 

He asked about you. No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program." 

Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?" 

A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink?

You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision." 

He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time." 

Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet. 

"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 

He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean." 

You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day." 

He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to." 

"You don't have a roommate?"

"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space." 

Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.

"I know. I don't know why I even asked." 

It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading. 

Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom." 

You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow." 

He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please." 

It's a soft whisper that echoes in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.

"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation. 

Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete. 

Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well. 

He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy.

"What did we do wrong?" 

—— 

Three Months After Graduation

The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend, who's not even close to him? 

Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated, funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel. 

Your weak spot was him, and you were his. 

You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?" 

"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try." 

He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love. 

"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly." 

Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way." 

"Fine," you repeated. 

You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run? 

He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home." 

The door slammed shut, and reality sank in. 

—— 

The open sign of the diner flickers below. 

"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him. 

"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit." 

The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on." 

He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face." 

In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other." 

He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me; you know that. The feeling never disappeared, no matter how much I pushed it down." 

You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel." 

"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you." 

It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out. 

"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after." 

Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other." 

He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah." 

The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong. 

The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?" 

He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mother, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp." 

"That's nice," you say.  A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach.

"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?" 

It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain?

"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again." 

You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.

"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me." 

A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either." 

"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?" 

You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."

"What now? Are we back to being strangers?" 

"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you." 

You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you.

"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else." 

It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without saying a proper goodbye.

"You can hold me." 

And so he does it for the last time. 

Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to—his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely around you, squeezing the sides of your body. He's breathing you in, like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other. 

You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you—every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him. 

"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat.

Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same." 

You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "Like shitty teen store perfume?" 

"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles." 

Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony. 

He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway." 

You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car." 

He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.

Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on.

"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better. 

Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters. 

"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.

"Now we're both crying."

He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fucking sucks." 

"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened." 

You're only trying to convince yourself at this point. 

"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?" 

His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either?

Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.

"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you? 

"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… Good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you." 

You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean." 

He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car. 

"Wait."

He freezes. "Yeah?"

Don't make it harder.

Leave. 

Don't hurt yourself. 

Yet the way he looks at you is enough to make you ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."

Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.

A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge. 

Why?

Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away. 

You still mean so much to me. 

—— 

Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories of Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused Polaroids for dates that stopped happening. 

Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him. 

The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you. 

That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it. 

Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly?

—— 

The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit. 

The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped to it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you stole his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you.

January 29th 

Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love the moment she walks into a room? 

Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear, I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul. 

I hope she sees the same thing. 

June 6th 

We graduated! We're finally done with high school!

When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms. 

College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other. 

I always have time for her. 

August 2nd 

I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology. 

She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it. 

If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again. 

Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later. 

Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mother's house so he could sleep better at night. 

So he can be reminded of home. 

It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. Home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you.

Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go. 

The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart. 

——

[a-midnight-smoke]

Keep him from breaking

___

Miguel O'Hara x m!reader

___

content: angst, hurt/comfort, a bit of fluff

trigger warnings: panic attack (not overly described but it's there), self-harm connected with said panic attack (scratching, pulling hair), mention of skipping meals

words: ~1 800

___

So, I finally wrote something again, and who would have thought that the thing breaking my 2 year writer's block would be fucking Miguel O'hara (it was predictable).

I don't agree with writers who characterize him as this suave flirt. Like, that is a broken, emotionally constipated, traumatized man, he would NOT make you call him papi, but then again, to each their own, write and read what you want, idc that much.

Miguel is a pathetic, wet cat, and so I wrote him breaking down in tears because he thought something happened to you. Call it emotional diarrhea after weeks of constipation. And that's my truth.

It's my first time posting a fic anywhere, I wrote this in one evening and then kept tweaking it for like 2 months and debating if I should post this cause I'm an anxious bitch, but finally said fuck it we ball.

Also, I'm a trans guy, and so my reader character will also be. I may write a gender-neutral reader, but not a female one. It's not really important in this particular story, but just so you know.

Also, also, english isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes. I appreciate feedback !

Anyway, if you like it you should like and reblog !! Thanks and have fun reading !!

___

Miguel's lungs were burning, but he couldn't stop. Not when he didn't know if you were safe. He needed to get to you. Make sure you're fine.

He crashed into your bedroom window, almost breaking it in the process. His red eyes darted to your bed, where you were not. You weren't in your bed. He called out your name but was only met with deafening silence.

He ran to the door, yanking it off the hinges in the process. Miguel could feel panic building in his chest, heart hammering in his ears.

He was in a trance, looking in every empty space in your apartment, calling for you, begging for you, and thrashing it when he didn't find you. He was breathing faster and harder by the seconds, his hands flying to his head to grab and pull at the strands harshly. Where were you? Someone must have kidnapped you, right? Why else would the apartment be empty?

The slight burn in his scalp didn't help to ease his rising panic, so he started clawing at his arms with his talons as he tried to think of what to do. He couldn't lose you, he couldn't. He needed you, more than life itself. He would tear the city apart to find you and had half a mind to do it already. He was heading for the window when-

The quiet janking of keys stopped him in place, staring at the front door, holding his breath. When he saw you enter, safe, sound and humming to yourself, something broke in him. Weeks of tension and stress finally catching up with him.

He pulled you into his arms, hiding his face in your neck as he started crying and hyperventilating, broken sobs escaping him, interrupted with occasional coughs as you stood still, stunned. His broad body enveloping yours, feeling you. He had to make sure he hadn't completely lost his mind, that you were really here.

As you got over your initial shock, you brought one hand to cradle Miguel's head, scratching slightly at his scalp and the other to trace soothing circles across his back, muttering soft reassurances.

But he couldn't stop hyperventilating, so you gently tried to pry him off of yourself, to no avail.

"Miguel? I need you to look at me, sweetheart." You cooed at him, and after some more coaxing, he pulled away, making sure you were holding his hands. Sobs wrecked through his body, face covered in tears and snot, bloodshot eyes accentuating the redness of his irises. He couldn't look away from you, couldn't stop touching you, afraid that you would disappear if he did.

You brought his hands to your chest, making it a point to breathe deeply and evenly.

"Breathe with me, Mig. Can you do that for me?" you spoke softly and slowly, trying to calm him down. He took a shaky breath that was interrupted by a coughing fit.

"Take it easy, sweetie. Just breathe with me."

It took some time, but his breathing started to finally even out, his sobs now just hiccups. His legs gave out, and you both tumbled to the floor, Miguel quickly wrapping you in his arms once again, listening and feeling your heartbeat. You hugged him back, resuming your earlier ministrations until he stopped crying completely. You stayed like that, on the floor of your trashed apartment, until Miguel spoke in a shaky, raspy from crying voice.

"I thought something… that something happened to you. When I couldn't find you here. That somebody took you from me." He grabbed onto you harder, digging his talonless fingers into your waist when you started to pull away, but you persisted, wanting to see his face. He reluctantly pulled away again, still holding your waist.

"Why would something happen to me? Why would somebody take me?" You would be lying if you said that seeing your, normally emotionally constipated, boyfriend in such a state of disarray didn't make you feel a bit anxious.

"T'was just this guy I was interrogating, let 'im get into my head." he mumbled. In hindsight, the guy was just a pawn, probably didn't know anything and was bluffing to get a rise out of Miguel. Which, combined with his high stress levels and deteriorating mental health, led to the situation at hand.

He tensed when he heard you sigh. Were you annoyed with him? Were you mad at him? You should be, he destroyed your apartment. You should just throw him out, really. He was good for nothing and did not deserve you. It would be better for everyone if he-

"Hey," your voice was still so soft, "get out of your head, Miguel." he slowly looked up to see you staring at him with a worried, but not angry, expression. You cradled his face, Miguel leaning into it instinctively and closing his eyes. You looked over him, over his bruised face, bloody lips and bloodshot eyes with dark bags underneath. He looked thinner than the last time you saw him, with his sunken cheeks. You scrunched your eyebrows.

"When was the last time you slept? And ate?" Well, that's embarrassing. Miguel looked away, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Miguel..."

"Like four days ago? " He wished he hadn't said anything, he usually didn't, he would insist he was fine, but he was just so tired the words slipped from him without much thought. "Food's making me feel nauseas, so I started skipping meals."

The look on your face was something he didn't want to see ever again.

"Miguel, you can't keep doing this. You should have told me, or Gabriel, or anyone really. It's not healthy," you tried to catch his eyes, which he was expertly avoiding. He grimaced.

"You all have enough on your plate as it is. I make sure the multiverse won't collapse in on itself, I should be able to take care of myself. I'm a grown man." He withdrew his hands completely, ignoring the part of his brain screaming at him to not let go of you, going back to scratching at himself, which caused you to look down. Your breath caught in your throat. His forearms were completely covered in blood, which was still seeping from some of the deeper wounds where he tore his suit. You tried to take his hands into yours, but he crossed his arms over his chest, continuing to avoid your gaze.

"Miguel," you started, voice firm, but with a soft note, "you are not a burden. You never could be, not to me. I love you so much, it pains me to see you hurt yourself like this. It doesn't matter that you're a grown man, you shouldn't feel like you have to keep everything to yourself, like you can't reach out to me, or anybody, for help. Let me take care of you. You deserve to be taken care of, no matter what you brain is telling you." You sighed, calming your racing heart.

"I'm sorry, Miguel," he snapped his eyes to you.

"Why are you sorry?" His voice was quiet and hoarse.

"I'm sorry that I didn't see you struggling sooner, that you felt like you couldn't talk with me about it. Four days? Without sleep and food? You have to be exhausted, even with your mutations. How are you even thinking clearly right now?" He doesn't, that's why your apartment is trashed. He looks around the destroyed room, feeling his anxiety creep back up. He opened his mouth to talk, but you beat him to it.

"Don't worry, you'll help me clean up after you get some sleep and eat." You pulled both of you up, struggling a little with Miguel, who had gone quiet again. He let himself be guided to the bathroom, just now starting to feel the burning from his arms.

You undress the bigger man and move him around, all fight having completely sucked out of him. You wash his wounds carefully before stitching the deeper ones and starting to prepare a bath. Now, in the space of your bathroom, the only room that wasn't a complete mess, Miguel realized how exhausted he really was. Guess you really can't sustain yourself on pure spite and adrenaline.

When the water is ready, you guide him into the tub before getting in yourself. You were never more grateful for the big bathtub, fitting Miguel's bruised and tired body, and you straddling him. The water is amazingly hot, already working magic on his tense muscles. You start washing his face with a soft washcloth, careful of his split lip, cleaning him of snot and leftover tears and Miguel's cheeks are heating up, his hands gripping your waist harder at being handled so delicately. He still couldn't get used to your attentiveness. Your hands are gentle on his skin, moving down to his neck and chest, washing away the sweat and grime, mindful of his bruises and leaving soft pecks after washing them and working through the knots in his muscles.

He's finally starting to relax as you move yourself to wash his hair. Your fingers carding through tangled hair, starting to unknot it. You're humming a calming tune, while Miguel sits with closed eyes. Finally letting himself be taken care of. Letting himself be vulnerable. He makes a noise low in his throat, making his chest vibrate a bit before stopping abruptly. You don't pay it any mind, not wanting to draw him out of his relaxed state.

You finish washing Miguel, drain the water, and dry him off, wrapping the towel around his waist and grabbing another to dry his hair. You wrap up all remaining cuts and then guide him to your bedroom, thankful that he at least didn't flip the whole bed upside down. Among the chaos, you find his clothes that he left, helping him dress, since he was practically already asleep, and laying him down on the bed. After getting him under the covers picked up from the floor, you pull away to get ready for bed when he grabs your wrist and looks at you sleepily, but still a little panicked.

"I'll just get ready for bed quickly and get back, okay, sweetheart?" After a moment, he nods slightly and lets go of you, still reluctantly, but he doesn't let himself fall asleep while you're not with him.

When you come back, Miguel is laying with his eyes barely open, fighting off sleep. You smile at the sight and go lay down beside him. He immediately brings you closer, pulling you on top of him, but you just tangle your hand into his locks and listen to his slowing heartbeat.

"You okay, now?" You whisper into the dark but are only met with Miguel's quiet snores. You press one more kiss to his chest, right over his heart.

Sleep never came as easy as tonight.

___

Yes, Miguel stopped himself from purring.

I'm thinking of making a second part that's just pure domesticity and fluff, we'll see.

Anyway, my dog puked on my carpet while I was making final edits to this just now.

[mercylikestowrite]

You trace the outline of my body like you ache to be one. I feel heavenly when I’m being held by you and i feel hell when we are apart. You look at me and i can feel love through your gaze, like your eyes are the sun and i am merely a cat basking in your light through the window. The overwhelming joy and calmness you bring me is something i can never take for granted, growing up in the crazy environment i did, where love was loud, angry, and distant. Your love is soft, sweet, and near-never harsh. When people say that love is supposed to hurt i can’t help but deny what they are saying because loving you has never hurt me. It’s made me better each day and calmed my anxious mind. Your love has softened the harsh reality of the world and how i view myself. I’ve loved you the moment i laid eyes on you, it’s like my heart just knew that you would be the one i spend my days with. I can’t be more grateful to have found someone who truly softens my everyday burdens of just being alive on this earth. We are meant to be like how the clouds are meant to have moisture from water to cause rain, you cure my droughts and provide food and nourishment to my body by loving me the way i was intended to be loved.

With lots of love,

merc

[soombee]

🫂 ｡ﾟ⊹ you’ve built a home in my heart — 15. who’s the bitch boy now?!

:: u got up at 2 am to get some snacks at the convenience store down the street. for your inconvenience, you quietly opened the door to meet a peculiar sight, someone trying to sleep on the floor across the hallway because their roommate has their gf over .. ?

warnings ⚠️ none, sappy shit </3

word count ‼️: 0.8k / 815 words

hai its been a long time ……. ( •̥ �� •̥ )

outside apartment complex, 5:38 pm

you stood outside the apartment building, waiting for your handsome date. you were excited, your heart beating out of your chest, your palms were extra sweaty, plus you couldn’t help but fidget with your fingers, hands, lips, and anything you could play with to relieve your anxiety.

you saw a familiar car pull up in front of you, “what the hell” you whisper to yourself as niki rolls the window down, “hey pretty lady! are u gonna get in or what?”

“hi silly” you flash your smile at him, “are you gonna open the door for me or what?”

“why yes, of course, anything for the princess of ansan, south korea” he says with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice as he makes his way to the passenger door, “and the queen of my heart.”

“shut the fuck up, riki” you accidentally hit his shoulder, “thank you” you kiss his cheek, feeling bad for the accident

when riki got in the car, you questioned him, curiosity took over you. “hey, isn’t this jay’s-“ he cut you off

“yes, it is, but it’s also mine” he kept his eyes on the road, “he gave me a safety key so i think he knows that ive been driving it” he smiles.

(6:30 pm, almost there)

“where are we going?” you asked, hoping for a clear answer, “you’ve been driving for foreverrr”

“secret” he sure loves keeping secrets

“did i dress for the occasion?” showing off your beautiful sundress, surely this question would make him slip

“maybe” riki laughs, he knows what your antics were. “whatever you ask, i wont tell you”

“whyyy” you pinch his cheek, making sure to leave a mark on his smug face

“cause it’s a secret and i don’t want to ruin the surprise” he pinches your nose, “plus we’re already here”

“hm?” you look through the windshield, seeing a beautiful blue beach, the water slowly running low on shore. its bright blue color like a cloudless sky

“ohmygod, it’s so pretty” you exclaim, not even hiding your excitement from riki

“just like you” he winks and gives you a lightskin stare while you just stare at him blankly, “okay nevermind then.”

“omg dude wait, i dont even have a swimsuit” you cup his cute face, his cheeks were so squishy and bouncy

“dont worry abt that, i already bought you one” he grins, you were concerned on what he bought you. “anyway, let’s go inside”

you followed riki as he led you towards the gorgeous beachside restaurant. the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, and the salty breeze tousled your hair. It felt perfect — too perfect almost, like something out of a movie. u hadn’t felt this excited and anxious at the same time in forever.

"come on, baby," he teased, giving you a mischievous grin as he opened the door to the restaurant

the interior is gorgeous, so homey and beautiful. fairy lights adorned the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the space. You two went outside, the beach was the perfect backdrop for your romantic date. He led you to a small table, already set with dinner—candles, a carefully laid-out platter of food, and all.

"riki, this is beautiful" you pouted, eyes wide in awe, “u did all of this?!!”

"well, jay lowkey helped a little," he admitted sheepishly, "but it was mostly me! and konon.."

you shook your head, a huge smile spreading across your face. "you know, for someone who jokes around a lot, you can be pretty romantic."

“pssshhhh,” he shrugged, pretending to brush it off, but you could tell he was proud. “you bring out the best in me, yn”

riki guided you to your seat and pulled it out for you. "my lady," he said with exaggerated politeness.

"why thank you, kind sir," you played along, feeling your heart swell with appreciation.

as you sat down, riki reached into his bag and pulled out a swimsuit. you couldn’t help but burst into laughter when you saw it—it was a pink two-piece with his face all over it!

"oh my god riki," you chuckled, holding it up. "really?"

"it’s cute!" he defended, but his grin told you he knew exactly what he was doing

"fine, fine," you sighed, still laughing. "i’ll wear it. but if I look ridiculous, you owe me."

"you could never look ridiculous," he replied smoothly, his gaze softening as he looked at you

you both sat in silence for a moment, the atmosphere suddenly shifting to something more serious, more intimate. the waves, the soft lights, his sweet gesture—it all felt so magical

"thank you, baby," you said softly, reaching for his face across the table. "this means a lot to me”

he put his hands over yours gently, his usual playful demeanor momentarily gone, “you mean a lot to me”

☆ prev || m.list || next — ♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ xtras over here !!

taglist (open) !! @aernx @alicesolengg @beomgyusonlywife @yourmyst4r @j-wyoung @yumilovesloona @astrae4 @mrowwww @chaechae-23

[darin-nidk]

Prev. | Interlude |

「 Radiosilence (QPR Reader and Alastor) 」

Content: Mostly angst; t.w.: panic attack, anxiety attack, swearing, fear of abandonement, Charlie doesn't get paid to be a therapist.

"God fucking damn it", they turned on their heels as they kept walking, grunting and cussing. Their eyes focused on a chair as they kicked it across the room, effectively breaking it. Hands gripping their hair and lightly tugging at it. "How could he do this to me?!".

"I, ah, what if we take deep breaths..?", Charlie stuttered, the princess of Hell looking anxious at how this particular room was an absolute wreck, even the windows were broken — maybe she needed a hotel manager or someone with more experience than her and uhh, maybe let Vaggie pick who gets to stay in through an interview process..? The demon before her simply stared at her with a sharp glare that made her feel small.

"You have to excuse me, Charlie but, I can't take a deep breath when I feel like suffocating", such words were accompanied by them scratching the skin from their neck all the way down to their collarbone with their claws that were poking out, slightly tearing the skin and bleeding. Somehow that helped to ground them and not spiral out of control. "I can expect betrayal from everyone but him, we are waaay past that stage, we grew up together, aged together, and he disappears?! What the Hell am I supposed to expect? To feel? It's like my metaphorical heart has been ripped apart and torn into pieces, my ribcage hurts when I breath, fucking Hell!", grabbing a book from the small bookshelf, the demon named (Y/N) growled and tossed it against the wall, denting it. They were breathing heavily as they tried to calm down, usually Alastor would know how to calm them down but he was the cause.

"Charlie, you don't understand, he and I... I can feel he made a poor choice because he was cornered and not knowing what he did is driving me insane, I have a deep connection with him. Hell, if he breathes the wrong way I know what the fuck is up—". Explaining their relationship was complex, usually they got misunderstood because apparently someone couldn't care about another without having romantic feelings or whatever.

This feeling was far more complex, they were more than family and friends, soulmates was a bit of a stretch... perhaps a mirror of one another in some fancy manner of speech? And ocasionally engaged in exchanges that could be interpreted in a different light, but romance wasn't it. They had a mutual connection but no carnal desires, their company was an anchor to ground them, it was a comforting bond.

Whatever social need they required, they could satisfy with each other without any misunderstanding or, at least, if there was one then it could be easily fixed with a conversation over a hot beverage with jazz playing on the background.

But Alastor broke their bond without any fucking explanation.

"Fuck, fuck!", (Y/N) cried as they held their face, falling onto their knees. Their vision blurry due to tears rolling down their cheeks, they were having trouble breathing.

[denaliwrites]

Aziraphale's Favorite Author

Aziraphale x GN!Reader

Summary: Reader has written a book, and is nervous to share this with Aziraphale, who has probably read literally every book ever.

Warnings: Imposter Syndrome.

Requests: Open! Please, feed me.

You can't think of another time you'd been so nervous. In fact, you were pretty sure there hadn't been another time. The energy zapping around across each and every one of your nerve endings was a uniquely new experience, and it left you feeling breathless in the worst way.

What were you even doing here? The book, wrapped delicately in gold paper that reminded you of the angel, weighed heavily in your hands. Far heavier than the actual physical object could realistically weigh. There was no way he'd want this -- he's surely read most books, if not all of them. He's read Austen, Shakespeare, every Great Writer throughout history, probably. How could you ever hope to compete? Why would he even bother reading the cover, let alone the meat of the novel?

But it was too late -- you'd already knocked, and you could see him fast approaching. He saw you through the door's window and beamed, and it just made you feel worse. You didn't deserve that expression, and as soon as he saw what you'd done, he'd take it away from you. Hell, he'd probably mock you, thinking you had any right to drop this slop in his hands like it was some great piece of literature.

The door opened, and immediately, he knew something was wrong. Of course he knew, how could he not? You were basically sweating bullets, eyes unfocused and heart beating so wildly you could even see worry on Crowley's face as he passed by.

God, how anxious were you?

"My dear," Aziraphale hummed happily, though you could hear that note of worry in his tone -- the one reserved especially for you. The one that, currently, made you want to run and hide, because how could you ever do that to him? You were ashamed --

"What are you holding there?" he asked softly, kindly, and you were pulled out of your ever spinning mind long enough to look down at the gift with a stunned expression.

"Oh, it's... it's nothing. I... well, it was for you, but on second thought, I don't think you'll like it. I'll just--"

"Oh, nonsense, dear," he reassured you, smiling. "I love all the gifts you bring me!"

His words were so genuine, you almost believed them. But how could he love anything you brought him? You were just a stupid, ordinary human, you couldn't possibly compare --

"May I open it?" he asked, hands on the object and gently trying to coax it out of your grip.

"No!" you yelped, before dropping your hold to clamp your hands over your mouth in embarrassment. "Oh, my God... I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I should..."

"Please, come in," he said gently, moving aside so that you could step past him. You did as you were told, legs stiff with nerves and the overwhelming desire to flee from the bookshop, never to return.

He led you to your favorite seat, watched to make sure you actually sat down. You could tell that he had noticed the way your leg took to bouncing erratically the moment you were seated. He watched it with some concern before turning his attention to the book -- and it was so obviously a book, even through the layers of wrapping paper.

His touch was feather light and delicate as he peeled the paper away without causing a single tear. He stared at the cover once it was revealed for a long time. A very long time. Too long.

You were getting antsy, desperate -- you didn't even care what he said at this point (or so you told yourself), you just wanted him to say something!

"Crowley," Aziraphale finally said, and even though he had said it as if speaking to someone right beside him, the demon appeared from wherever he'd been with a curiously quirked eyebrow. "Look what our wonderful friend has done!"

"Oi, you did this?" the demon asked, gaze shooting over to you. You nodded, throat suddenly too dry to allow for words. "Well done, then," he said, and then he'd disappeared back into the depths of the bookshop.

You blinked in stunned silence, before returning your attention to Aziraphale. He was the one you were really worried about -- he was the one that could make or break you, likely the latter, in a matter of moments.

"Oh, my dear," he started, positively beaming, "I am so proud of you!" He moved to stand before you, gently pulling you up. He hugged you tightly and placed a loving kiss to your cheek. When you looked into his eyes, you saw real, earnest joy there. Pride. Love.

A few tears dropped from your eyes, and immediately his expression turned to one of concern. "Oh, my darling, whatever is the matter? This should be a joyous occasion!"

"I-I just," you blubbered, finally breaking out into broken sobs. "I thought you'd hate it..."

"Why on Earth would I do that?" he asked, and you could hear that he was truly affronted by the idea, and it just made you feel worse.

"You've... y-you've read, like, every book! Ever! You've read all the greatest... how could I ever hope to compete? I can't possibly be as good as Jane Austen! A-and, I mean, I know it's not about that, but I so badly want you to like it, but how can you like it when there are so many better books out there and you've read them all?"

He appeared thoughtful for a long minute that felt like it dragged on for hours. You could see words and expressions tumbling through his mind, could see him formulating sentences and paragraphs.

"My dear," he finally started, and it sounded a lot less sure than you'd expected, and a lot less devastatingly cruel. "Whyever would any of that matter to me? Great as they are, none of those writers are you. I care about you, and I care about the things you feel, and the things you say. I care about how you see the world, how you process your experience as a human with a limited amount of time and a limited capacity for experience. Your voice matters to me far more than Jane Austen's, or anyone else's."

Your sobs didn't cease -- if anything, they grew stronger. But at least now, there was relief in them. Overwhelming relief. And some joy, too. He'd made it very clear to you that he loved you and cared about you.

Warm arms wrapped around you and coaxed you down into the chair, settled atop his soft lap. His arms stayed circled around you, even as he held the book out in front of him and began reading.

You couldn't look at the contents -- he'd soothed you for now, but you still had lingering doubts, and you couldn't stand to look at the mess you'd made out of the English language. But from your perch atop his legs, you could watch Aziraphale's shifting expressions. You could roughly guess where he was in the novel based on the look on his face -- you hoped that meant it was good.

You were sure that it wasn't the best novel ever written, but maybe it didn't need to be. Maybe all you needed was for Aziraphale to be proud of you.

And he was.

In fact, you were officially his favorite author.

[kurokawaia]

❛ Your Mine ❜ - Chapter 4

yandere!Lan Wangji X Fem!Wen!Reader

| YANDERE + DARK CONTENT | this meaning, if you don't like this content, then just scroll away

WC; 1.9k + | !MDNI! | TW/CW : x fem reader, yandere x fem reader, yandere themes, another kidnapping lmao, lan wangji steals you agn

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝒞𝐻𝒜𝒫𝒯𝐸𝑅 𝒮𝒰𝑀𝑀𝒜𝑅𝒴 :: The war has now passed and Lan Wangji is taking care of you and helping you search for your siblings. When you two found them, you requested to stay with them in Yiling, to leave Wangji. But this caused Lan Wangji's already yandere personality to rise to another level. He wants to bring her back to Gusu and marry her, but she doesn't want to, she wants to stay with Jiang Cheng, her siblings and doesn't want to follow the 3000 rules.

part 3 | part 4 | part 5

You awoke, opening your eyes slowly with the raising light through the paper windows. It was full of chaos and your mind was confused at what was happening before you. Then, you were reminded of what had happened last night: the memory of being intimate with Lan Wangji. Fresh—it still was, the way his lips moved against your own, along with his possessive statements. And then you shifted a little, and there, by your bed, was Lan Wangji, looking at you with his eyes wide open. Is his face serene, or does tension come off him in waves, that type of feeling that makes you almost feel afraid and anxious for his next action?. "Lan Wangji," you murmured uncertainly with a voice so soft, yet seeming so constant you might have sighed, "I have been thinking. I want to go look for my siblings." "No," he said with a force of finality that seemed nearly on par with steel. "That is too dangerous." You sat up, meeting his eyes. But there was still evidence in you that you held fear. "I just need to know if they'll be okay. Wen Qing and Wen Ning are family to me. I can't just sit here when they're literally in danger." The face of Lan Wangji was without expression, yet a certain intensity in the air was picked up that you could deeply feel, continuing down your spine in a tremor. "Your safety is most valued," he said, low and controlled. "I cannot let you take a risk like that." "I'll have to get someone to come look after them," he bargained, anger starting to flow from him as well. "I can't be left to go with. I know it's dangerous, but I HAVE to do this." His eyes seemed to darken, the intensity he had displayed the previous night flashed back on, though he stayed speaking in a low tone. "And I can't let you go alone. You mean too much to me." You blinked at him, annoyed, worried, and feeling something else that was in no way justifiable. "Lan Wangji, I am thankful for everything that you've done for me, but I'm not a child. I can take care of myself."

"You aren;'t nobody," he whispered, his voice low yet fully firm with a touch of possessiveness. "You, I cannot afford to lose." His words sent chills down your spine, yet you reasoned with yourself. "I didn't say that you let me go by myself," you said halfway, meeting him in the middle. "I just really need to do this, so badly. Please let me go, but come with me." "If I go with you," he finally gave in; his voice brooked no argument, "then I can make sure you're safe.". You gave a very slow nod, at least relieved that the fact would be looked into. "Thanks," you breathed, full of the most sincere of voices possible. "I swear I'll be careful."

The path that took place in order to find siblings—Wen Qing and Wen Ning—had all been very tense, and at every moment, Lan Wangji had never left your side. It almost frightened you, how he never left your side, you never had a moment of privacy. BUt, finally, after days of searching, you found them in Yiling—all hidden from the Sunshot Campaign. You hugged Wen Qing and Wen Ning, relief is inseparable from floods of tears, both of happiness and sorrow, at seeing them again. Lan Wangji had stopped a few feet from you, the gaze from his eyes never breaking from yours. Immobile, his face had been impassive and emotionless, but something in him, in the way he kept his body so ridged had seemed to speak volumes. He was watching you reunite, but something in his gaze felt dark. After a moment, you turned to Lan Wangji with a heavy heart over the decision you knew you were going to have to make. "Lan Wangji," you started, your voice trembling slightly. "I want… to stay with them." Something dangerous crossed over his features and his eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" he asked, lowering his voice to a meagre level. You drew a deep breath, trying to collect your nerves. "They need me here, Wangji. They are alone and they are in danger. I can never leave them again. I want to be in Yiling and stay with them. The silence that followed could have been said to be deafening. His eyes took on a shade of darkness and his expression contracted. "You want to leave me," he thought, unfeeling, only the tension in the tone is clear. You shook your head, now filling with tears. "It's not about leaving you. It's about my family. They need me, Lan Wangji. I cannot leave them again." His jaw tightened, and he advanced another half step, his presence oppressive for the first time. "You are supposed to be with me," he said, his voice cold and possessive. "You cannot stay here. It's too dangerous." You flinched at the almost bellowed ferocity of his tone, but you stood your ground. "They are my family, Lan Wangji. I have to make it up to them. I need to help them." 

The look in his eyes grew darker, his calm composure replaced with something far more unsettling, something that scared you to your core, it rattled your peace. "No," he replied sharply. "I will not allow it. You are coming back with me." Your heart pounded with heated sound in your chest, your eyes meeting his, and a shiver ran down your back at the cold look in his eye. "Lan Wangji, please understand. I can't, after all that, just leave them. They need me." "And I need you," he shot back, his voice rising with a rare, almost frightening intensity. "You are mine, Wen {Birthname}. You cannot stay here." "You are mine," he said again, but this time his words stunned you. The ownership of his tone. It had you at a loss. 

"Lan Wangji," you whispered, and the sound of your own voice was shaking. "This is not proper. You cannot just… have me this way." He came even closer, his hand reaching out to clutch your arm—not painfully but in a way you could not pull away. "You are not leaving me," he hissed with a menacing voice. "I will not let you." Your heart raced, and although fear and confusion swirled inside you, nowhere upon his face could you meet his eyes and see the depth of his obsessions, the intensity of his need to keep you beside him at all costs. "Lan Wangji—" you tried to reason with him, but he cut you off. "If you stay here," he warned, his voice dangerously calm, "you will be in constant danger. I cannot protect you here. You should be with me, where I can protect you." You shook your head as tears spilled down your cheeks. "But they're my family… I can't just leave them." His fist tightened slightly, his eyes burning with possession not to be disputed. "You are coming with me," he said, the words clearly implacable, with no room for argument in his voice. "I shall not lose you."

Before you even fully registered what was happening, a strong hand shook around your arm as Lan Wangji pulled you away from your siblings. YOur eyes widened at his unexpected action, you had never expected Lan Wangji, second son to the head of the Lan's to get physical with you. His grip was firm and you could already feel a bruise forming. "Lan Wangji, no!" you cried out again and tried to pull back, yet his grip did not yield. 

Because he was resolute, he wasn't going to let go of you, he wasn't even planning to do so. "You're coming with me," he repeated, low and even, a possessive edge in his tone with made you realise that he wouldn't be letting go. Your heart thudded loud in your chest, and you were panting against him, "What can I do but not leave them?" you exclaimed, your voice strangled with sadness. "They are my family—Wangji—I belong here, with them! But the words seemed to fall on deaf ears for he only paid no heed, dragging you away. "You belong with me and will come back to Gusu with me, where it is safe," his eyes gleamed with possessiveness. Now, terror surged in you full force with the realisation of what he had meant. He had not only taken you back to Gusu, but to his world, back to a life within which you were going to be shut inside between the tight rules and scrutinies of the Lan clan, a life in which you would have to follow the three thousand rules of the code of conduct that extended absolutely everywhere within the Cloud Recesses. "No!" you screamed as you dug your heels into the ground. "I won't go back! I don't want to live with those rules! I want to stay here, with my family! With Jiang Cheng!" With the mention of Jiang Cheng's name, Lan Wangji's eyes began to darken, grip on your arm tightening. A shiver went through your body since that silent, calm expression he always wore was cracking, and what truly lay beneath was one of possession. "You are mine," he said in a low, hazardous soft voice. "You belong to me—not Jiang Cheng, not anybody.". You could feel it in his gaze, the one of a heartache man, that desire just to have you by his side. "Wangji, please," you would plead, tears running down your face. "I don't want this. I don't want to be tied down with those rules. I don't want to live a life here where I can't be with my family, where I can't be free." "You'll be safe there, in Gusu," he said, the hand that gripped harder to yours tightening. "I will protect you, and we are going to be together. That's all that matters."

"No." You shook your head. "But what about what I want?" You croaked, your voice shaky with emotion. "What about my freedom? My family? The face of Lan Wangji relaxed, and you could see something like guilt or regret gleam in his eyes, though it was soon cloaked once more by that same bone-chilling determination that had driven him to this. "Your safety is more important than anything else," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Though you do not understand this now, one day you will and you will thank me for it.". With that, he pulled you closer—the grip on your arm unremitting. "We are going back to Gusu," he said; the tone of his voice allowed no room for dispute. "And once we are there, we will marry. You will be safe, and we will be together." There was a surety in his voice that sent a chill down your spine. You knew there was no escape from this, you couldn't talk him out of it. That urge of Lan Wangji toward you had reached to such a point that he didn't care for anything, not your wishes, not freedom, not family. The only thing that mattered was you were his, and nothing would stop him from doing what it takes to keep you by his side. Your heart felt a thousand times heavier with the portent of what was to come as he carried you away from your siblings. You managed to twist your head back just in time to see the forlorn expressions etched on the faces of Wen Qing and Wen Ning, their helplessness in this situation clear before your eyes. 

You wanted to scream, to fight, to do anything in order to prevent this, but Lan Wangji's hand was tight, powerfully strong, and it left you with none of your own. 

You were helpless.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | mo dao zu shi m.list

[whatajezebelle]

The Woods

Suguru x F!Reader

Mature Content

Y/N has taken a break from dating for a while but questions that decision when she meets Suguru on a camping trip with her friends.

(A/N: I will adjust tags as I go. There will be smut, though. This is my first story in a long time so let me know what you think!)

Chapter 1

Nature getaway

You flop onto your temporary bed for the next couple of weeks and look at the spectacular view of the forest from the large windows of your room. You were lucky enough to beat traffic so you got there before your friends did. Part of you is anxious about this trip but after blowing off every invite for the past half a year, you couldn't avoid your friends any longer. Well, you could but it was likely that they'd break down the door to your apartment and kidnap you. You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a moment. When you open them back up it's clear a moment turned into a couple of hours. The sun was beginning to set and you could hear your friends making their way through the door. Since you have the only room on the bottom floor it ensures that at the very least early mornings will be quiet and to yourself. The nights not so much but you're kind of nocturnal anyway so that doesn't matter much. You walk out and one drops their stuff to run to you for a bear hug. The other holds onto her stuff with a smile.

“Y/N! I'm so happy you decided to come!” Utahime wraps you in a hug with a huge smile on her face. She's been the most adamant that you come with them for this trip.

“Yeah, I figured some time with friends out in nature couldn't hurt.” You hug her back and give her a small smile.

“You getting enough sleep kid? Ieiri asks, her voice a lot more calm. She still has her things in hand as she maneuvers through the living room of the admittedly spacious cabin. She's slowly inching her way to the stairs as if she doesn't want to get caught.

“Um,, maybe but what exactly are you doing?” She keeps moving as you speak. “Also don't call me kid, we're the same age.” you grumble under your breath.

“What do you mean? No clue what you're talking about.” Utahime is quicker to figure it out than you are.

“Don't you dare! I told you I'm taking that back room!” Utahime lets go of you, almost pushing you over, and rushes to grab her stuff as Ieiri sprints off.

They race and fight each other for a while. You watch for a bit, slightly amused. They fight more than anyone I've ever seen and it's clear that it's cause they like each other and this is the only way they can get that close without “making things weird”. After a bit you get bored so you head outside. There's more stuff in the SUV they drove up in so you go to grab as much as you can. It's likely that they will be too tired to do much after their death match and you wouldn't dare let any food go to waste.

The air is so clear out here. You take a moment to appreciate the sounds and the way the light hits the trees as it slowly begins it's daily descent. Filled with a type of peace you haven't felt in a really long time. You close your eyes tilting your head back to better feel the wind on your face and take a deep breath. The peace ended very quickly when you hear footsteps coming from behind you.

“Can I help you?” You turn and speak with clear irritation in your voice and your meanest mug when the steps are a movement away from being too close for comfort. You turn to see a man with long dark hair and warm but analytical eyes. He smiles softly, as if to calm you and you realize just how handsome he is. A different version of you would have been excited to see someone as beautiful as him but current you has dealt with the consequences of that version of you's bad decision making.

“Hey, I was just checking on all of you. I'm in the cabin next door with some friends so feel free to come by later. We're cooking and there's more than enough for everyone.” he looks at you as if he's staring into your soul. His eyes moving across your face really taking in your features.

“And you are...?” He's speaking as if you should know already but you can confidently say that you've never seen him before.

“Suguru! Hey, dummy.” Ieiri calls out to him. She's empty handed and her hair is messy from the brawl.

“Why do you look like you've been fighting the squirrels, Shoko?” He speaks marginally louder than he was to you a moment ago and you can hear the bass in his voice more clearly. Like a rumble in his chest. You try to ignore the goosebumps that pop up because of it.

“Utahime and I had a little disagreement about who deserved the best room in the cabin. I won of course.” she smiles smug.

“It's because you cheated! There's no biting and you know that!” Utahime comes storming out of the door looking twice as disheveled.

This triggers more bickering from them and you sigh as you realize this may be the entire trip. You hope somebody brought some pre-rolls cause you don't think this is an experience that sobriety can hold up to.

For a moment, you forget there was someone behind you so you jump when you hear his low chuckle. You turn to him and he's a bit closer than before. You're now on high alert, not because of fear or danger but because he smells so fucking good. You start to feel his body heat rolling off of him, he gets so close. Maybe a normal person who gets laid on a regular basis wouldn't notice that but you've been... touch starved, for lack of a better word. You joined team celibacy a long time ago, too long by the looks of things, so, obviously proximity to a man that has innate sex appeal coming out of every pore is enough to make you question your life choices.

“You're the friend that Ieiri told me about,” You look over at him as you speak. He moves to stand next to you to spectate the show your friends are putting on. He looks just as used to it as you are. The realization of just how tall he is hits you as you have to look up higher than expected with him so close to see his face. ”The one that owns the property here? Thanks for letting us stay. Or rather allowing me to come since you don't know me.”

You avoid looking at his face but since he isn't looking at yours, more interested in the fighting happening in front of you both, you take the opportunity to look him over. Just glancing you wouldn't notice the very defined muscles he's got going under that baggy shirt but after looking for more than a second it's very clear he spends a lot of time in the gym. He's folded his arms which showcases just how nice his biceps are. You rake your eyes further up and notice how strong his shoulders look and how strong his jawline is. You take subtle steadying breaths and pull your eyes away before you're caught.

“I am and it's not a problem. Really. Any friend of Shoko and Utahime is a friend of mine. You're Y/N, right?” He's now looking at your face but by that time you've moved your focus back on the argument so hopefully he hadn't noticed the salivating.

“I am. Nice to meet you.” You awkwardly nod your head toward him still avoiding eye contact. Your chest fills with that familiar feeling of anxiety. From what you've heard from your friends over the last couple of years, Suguru is pretty laid back about people but it's always nerve wracking to talk to someone new. Not everyone understands or cares for how socially awkward you can be.

The bickering turns into another all out brawl and this time you feel the need to step in. You trudge your way over and try to avoid the swinging arms and kicking feet. Finally you're able to separate the two. Grabbing the collars of their shirts like you're scruffing two cats.

“Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you two? Either fuck or leave other each alone. The childish flirting is driving me insane.” You scold them and set them down. “Can you behave? Please? For me?”

They cross their arms and pout refusing to look at each other like children and grumble. Two others have joined the spectacle, walking in from the trail that presumably connects the two cabins although you can't see the other one through the thicket of trees from here.

They're all three standing together now and your heart is pounding out of your chest. How the fuck do they all look like that? Birds of a feather really do flock together, even the pretty ones. The blonde one has strong masculine features and a stoic demeanor. He looks friendly enough but definitely is more of a no nonsense type of person. His eyes dark and vigilant, the crinkle they form when he smiles shows that he's kind despite how he holds himself. The white haired one has softer features but not in an androgynous why, more like in a pretty boy way. His eyes are the most vibrant blue you have ever seen and they're so warm it's almost like they're liquid encased in his eye. He looks like he ain't shit if you're being honest but damn is he nice to look at.

They're trying to hide their laugh at the interaction going on in front of them. You can't really blame them if you were the one watching it'd be pretty funny to you, too.

“Utahime, you cryin?” The white haired one says, not at all trying to hide his laughter. In fact, he points as he laughs.

“Fuck you, Gojo!” She yells at him. You raise your eyebrows, she normally keeps it together with anyone other than Ieiri and you're pretty sure that's because she has a crush on her. You archive that for later.

“Too late, babe, you already did.” She sputters and gets up grabbing stuff from the passenger seat of their car and stomping her way inside. Your jaw drops and eyebrows raise til they're damn near in your hairline. No need to ponder on it later, suspicion confirmed.

“Well damn.” You say as you hold your hands up as if in surrender and move out of her way as she passes you. You hope that coming here was the right choice, cause so far it's looking like a bunch of temptation and drama. Is it kinda funny drama? Yes. But still drama nonetheless.

“Nice going, Idiot.” Suguru says to him eyebrow raised in irritation and his mouth set in disappointment.

“What? She did!” The blonde one smacks him upside the head. He doesn't say anything he just gives what could be best described as the disappointed dad look.

“Could you at least try to behave yourself in front of our new friend?” Suguru turns to you as Shoko gets up from the ground and dusts herself off before wrapping an arm around you. “Satoru,” he turns to the white haired one, “Kento,” Then to the blonde, “This is Y/N.”

All eyes are on you and you want to crawl back to your room and hide under the blankets until everyone went away.

“Hey... what's crackin'?” You say uncomfortably and avoid eye contact with any of them.

“You're pretty.” Satoru purrs at you with a very charming smile, his eyes roaming everywhere but your face. And if you were still in a hoe phase that would have had the kitty meowing but, unfortunately, you are not so it just irritates you.

“I'm aware.” you say deadpan with your patented bitch face. You know it's rude but it's the most likely to get him to back off the quickest.

“Ohhhhh, feisty, I like that.” he smiles even bigger. You scoff and roll your eyes. Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed with his friends antics.

“Please don't mind him, it's nice to meet you.” Kento comes up and shakes your hand with a firm but gentle grasp.

“And you.” You smile at him genuinely unbothered by his presence. “Hopefully, I'm not being too rude but I have a feeling if I don't finish emptying out this car it won't get done tonight.

“Hey, I'd help!” Ieiri sounds off next you. You fix her with a “bitch please” look. She laughs it off. “Yeah, you're right.” She lets go of your shoulder and grabs the rest of her stuff before going inside.

“Let us help.” Suguru is already grabbing things and handing them to the others before you can say anything. They grab the heaviest of it and go inside to help put things away.

----------

It's completely dark outside and the weather has cooled just the tiniest bit. Enough that having a bonfire isn't an entirely ridiculous idea. Watching Kento and Suguru chase down Satoru to take the lighter fluid and matches away is nothing short of comedy gold.

“Yeah, get him!” Utahime yells with her full chest. She's five seconds away from an evil cackle when the two more responsible men tackle Satoru.

Satoru pouts but accepts his defeat. He goes to mess around with the music instead. Suguru prepares the fire pit and you watch his every move in silence. Your eyes are so glued to him that you don't notice your friends sharing a look and looking back at you.

“Take a picture it might last longer.”

“What are you talking about, Uta?” You sound guilty as fuck as you not so subtly tear your eyes away and look at anything else when Suguru makes eye contact with you hearing Utahime tease you.

“Oh that was real smooth. Not noticeable at all.” Ieiri chuckles next to you.

You give them the finger, “Sit on it and rotate, bitch.” This only makes them cackle even louder.

“What's so funny, ladies?” Suguru makes his way over. As you were getting teased he managed to get the fire going. He stops a couple of feet in front you.

“We were just talking about Y'N's possible interest in photography. We think she might have a good eye for it.”

Your head slowly turns to Ieiri and while your mouth says nothing your face says everything. Like, 'Bitch, please shut the fuck up, for the love of all that is holy.' for example.

He smiles again, dimples prominently on display and it all but destroys you, “Oh yeah? I'd love to see what's caught your eye.”

Your face goes hot and you pop up of the chair you were inhabiting and slowly make your way inside their cabin to get a drink. Alcohol will be needed for tonight, that much is clear.

“Yeah, I'll definitely let you know. Ya know, if I uh do that...” You bump into another one of the chairs and Suguru raising his eyebrows and tries to hide his smile. He clearly wants to laugh, finding your awkwardness cute.

“I'll hold you to that then.”

You spend dinner time avoiding participating in conversation. You don't want to stumble into any anxiety inducing conversation and the best way to do that is to not speak. You feel Suguru's eyes on you all throughout the meal but to be fair Satoru isn't doing much better. Luckily you're sat next to Kento and he is much quieter and doesn't feel the need to bore a hole in your head with his eyes. There's a level of camaraderie you feel with him purely because he lets you be but is still considerate and nice to you. You'll do your best to stick by his side during activities on this trip.

After everyone eats, there's a group effort to clear the table and make sure dishes are clean. Since there are six of you it takes no time at all. Everyone grabs their preferred drink and heads closer to the bonfire. Satoru is self assigned DJ and he's actually pretty good. Ieiri convinces Kento to dance and Utahime and Suguru join.

You sit near the fire on one of the nice outdoor sofas set to the side of the guy's cabin. You watch everyone talk, dance and reminisce on old times. Pre-rolls were brought along, and it looks like there's enough to supply a whole compound so you won't run out. You don't smoke as much as everyone else so that you could find your way back you the cabin without an accidental adventure into the woods. Knowing your dumb ass you'd get too caught up watching the stars to pay attention to where you're going.

You nurse the drink that Ieiri mixed for you. It mostly tastes like juice but you know there is a ton of tequila in it since you watched her make it. You're lost in thought staring into the fire when someone sits next to you, close enough to touch.

“You don't seem like you're having very much fun.” You look over to Suguru and he's watching you with intense eyes. That warm sweet smile on his face.

“I am, I just... sometimes I'm quiet. I like just being around the fun.” You avoid eye contact still, staring into your cup like it has the secrets of the universe in it. You may need a refill, you notice your cup is almost empty. Which makes you realize you're a bit tipsy. It's not bad, it actually helps a bit.

“A true introvert then, hm? Nothing wrong with that. So if this isn't really your thing, what is?” His voice is low and gentle. You look over at him making full eye contact possibly for the first time and see genuine interest in his dark eyes. It takes you a little off guard.

“Uh, well, I mostly stay home and work with computers. I like taking them apart and putting them together. I also game a lot.” You realize how shy you're acting. Like a school girl with a crush. Get it the fuck together, you tell yourself.

“Oh? Gamer girl. Nice. What you play COD or something?” his smile turns into a toothy grin.

“No, I'm not built for that community. I'd get banned for talking shit all the time. I like a lot of single player horror and sometimes I'll dabble in Valo, or League or Genshin, depending on my mood. I also like cozy games” Your body starts to relax as you talk about something familiar to you. You turn your body so your facing him and lean against the back of the sofa with your head resting on your hand. He mimics your body language and leans in a bit closer to hear you better. If there wasn't alcohol in your system you'd be an anxious mess at the proximity but this way you're able to relax a bit more.

“I don't think I could see you saying something so bad that you'd get banned for it.” his voice goes a bit lower as he speaks to you. “You seem too sweet for that. Maybe just a little shy.”

“Yeah, I could see that. I've been nothing but awkward today. But honestly...I'm kind of a bitch.” he laughs at this and you're wrapped up in the sound. “No, seriously. I can handle myself if I need to and I'm way less shy online than I am in person.”

“Hmm, I guess that makes sense. I almost forgot about how you handled Satoru earlier. That was great by the way I don't think he's ever been rejected like that.”

“Yeah, well, I didn't want him thinking he even remotely had a chance.” You wrinkle your nose in disgust and take that moment to sip from your cup. If there were a Redder flag they'd have to rename the color.

“And what about me? Do I have a chance?” thankfully you don't sputter and choke on your drink but your eyes go big as you look at him.

“Huh?” obviously, you heard him but you didn't know what else to say. He laughs and bites his lip before he answers when it's clear you needed him to repeat himself.

“Do I have a chance?” he repeats, “I mean you haven't told me to fuck off, yet.” He looks deeply into your eyes. It feels like he can see every part of you and he wants to see more. Greedy for your attention. It's in this moment you realize just how close your bodies are. That his hand has been resting on your thigh for a while now. His thumb rubbing circles into your exposed skin due to the shorts you're wearing.

“Oh well... I, uh-”

“Y/N! Come dance with us! You haven't gotten up since we ate. Come come!” Utahime calls for you and you have never been so grateful for her friendship in all your life.

“Yep! Coming!” You yell back and get up without saying a word to him.

“Not yet, you aren't.” you hear him mutter as you walk away. You choose not to acknowledge the statement, going with the calm, cool, and collected facade but internally you're screaming, crying and falling to your knees.

There's generic pop music playing along with a few club edits in the playlist. You take another shot to loosen up just a bit more and join your friends on the makeshift dance floor. You wouldn't consider your self a dancer but you aren't bad. You sway your hips to the music and get lost in it for a few songs before you feel eyes on you. You look over and notice Suguru still sitting on his own on the sofa, watching you over his cup as he takes a sip. His eyes shift up from your ass, he must of realized he was caught. He smirks and licks his lips. You turn away and keep dancing for a while.

“What's up with you two?” Ieiri asks from next to you as you both keep moving.

“What do you mean?”

“He's been eye fucking you all day and you aren't any better. If you weren't into it you would have cursed him out already.”

“What? He's not paying attention to me like that.” You don't know if you're trying to convince your self or her. But either way it's not working.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that and maybe it'll be more believable one day.” She lets you be and focuses on dancing instead, opting to fluster Utahime by putting her hands on her hips. You pay no mind to them and their flirting. Hopefully, they get together on this trip and quit acting like tsundere weirdos.

You feel light and enjoy the feeling of the heat coming from the fire and the burn in your muscles from moving for so long. There's a small smile on your face as you decide to call it quits for the night. Everyone groaned when you told them that you were going to call it a night and asked you to stay but you're tipsy and tired.

“Let me walk you back.” Suguru pops up next to you from what feels like no where. You look at him and then the dark trail that leads back to the cabin and back at him. You're not so drunk that you think you'd get lost but it's dark and a little scary to walk alone.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

You walk in silence for the first few steps. The further away you get the more the sound and light fades until eventually the trail is only illuminated by moonlight.

“So...” He starts but doesn't finish.

“So?”

He licks his lips and shakes his head almost like he's decided against speaking his original mind.

“The cabin you're in doesn't have a computer but mine does. If you want a break from everyone while we're here you can use it.”

“That's nice of you. Thank you.” the shyness comes back now that you're alone. “Why do you need a computer out here? Isn't the point to get away and focus on nature?”

“Satoru, Kento and I run a security agency and sometimes if there's an emergency that needs to be handled by one of us, we have to use it.”

“Are you sure you want me using it for gaming then? Seems like a pretty important piece of equipment for you.” he huffs a small laugh in response.

“It's fine, I promise.” he reassures you.

The rest of the walk is in silence. It's not awkward but there is a tension that makes you a bit nervous. But then again what doesn't.

“Thank you for walking me. I probably would have been fine but I still appreciate the company.” He grabs your wrist and turns you to stand facing him once you get close to the Cabin.

He slowly moves closer and lets go of your wrist to give you the option to move away if you'd like. His forehead rests on yours and your breath mingles with his.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers. You pause, speechless. You decide not to think and nod yes.

He closes the gap, putting one hand on your hip while the other cups your face. The kiss is gentle, his lips soft as they move against yours. It starts pretty chaste but as it continues and the heat in your tummy grows the kiss gets sloppier. He bites your lip which makes you gasp and he takes that moment to run his tongue over yours. He moans into you, which makes your whimper back. He uses his hand on your hip to pull your body flush to his, he gets a good squeeze. Enjoying how curvy you are his hand moves to grip your ass. His mouth moves to your jaw then right below your ear and slowly down your neck. Your eyes roll back feeling the small nips against your favorite spot and you wonder how he knew you would like that so much. He lowers himself a bit grabbing your thighs from the back and using the grip to separate your legs and pick you up, your legs instinctually wrap around him as he gently pushes your back into the front door of the cabin and grinds into you. With that movement, you feel exactly how big and how hard he is and it surprises you so much that it gives you a moment of clarity. Your eyes pop open and your breath hitches.

You push against his chest a bit and he immediately lowers you to the ground, removes his hands and detaches.

“Did I do something wrong?” He looks at you brows furrowed with worry.

“No, I just think we should stop there. I don't want things getting too complicated on this trip.”

He bites his kiss swollen lip, a habit you figure he has, and looks you over as he considers your words.

“Of course.” he doesn't seem upset at all, in fact his eyes stay soft and gentle as does his smile. He takes a good step back to make sure you have space and feel safe.

You nod and give him a small smile. You turn and walk into the cabin and he watches to make sure you make it in before he heads back.

[ingridnystrom]

closed starter for @reneexthompsxn locations: vinyl fantasy -> cedar grill & lounge

Prue had barely started the radio show for the evening when people already started calling in. She always felt that she go more callers closer to the holidays than any other time as they were all looking for advice. While she wasn't an advice radio dj, she did help as best as she could; even if she was sarcastic the entire time, especially if the questions were dumb to her. Since the event in September, though, she had been more melancholy about everything. Having things switch so fast with Renee was hard and she kept questioning if she should declare her love or not. All she needed was a sign.

She was about to start a song and was introducing it over the station when the phone rang and she looked at it. "You know what? First we're going to take this call." She clicked the button for the call to go through and she leaned back in her chair. "You're on with Radio Pulse. This is Prue. What can I do for you?"

"Hi, Prue. I wanted to ask your advice on something." The voice on the other end said. "I had a sense about it since you called, but go ahead." She told them and swung her chair from side to side. "There's this girl I really like and we kissed a few weeks ago, but..." She could hear the hesitation in their voice and Prue's heart picked up as she sat straighter. "I don't know. Everything had been weird since then. We barely talk, there's so much tension in the air. I just don't know what I should do. Should I talk to her? Should I wait for her to talk to me?" The person sighed. "What do you think I should do?"

Normally, she probably would've been more forward about the whole thing. Tell them to be brave and tell the person how they felt. She would be a hypocrite and maybe she still was, but she had other things to say now as she was in the same position. "Tell her." She said into the mic. She felt like her heart was beating now against her chest and her hands were getting a little sweaty. "You have to tell her or you'll go on for years wondering what would've happened if you just said it." There was a pause and the person started talking again. "How do I just tell her? And what if she doesn't feel it back? What if I ruin our friendship?"

"Do it now. Go to her. Wherever she is, go there and tell her everything." Her heart was racing and now she felt like she was talking to herself more than the person on the phone. "Forget about what will happen if she doesn't feel it back. If she doesn't, you both will find a way to still be friends if your friendship is that strong. Anything is better than going another moment without telling the person you love that the feelings are there." Prue was feeling antsy and she stood from the chair. "Just go. Go do it before you lose this courage and won't be able to do it again."

"Okay. Okay I will. Thank you." The call ended and all she could do was look around. "Guys, I'm going to start music and when we come back, you're going to be in the capable hands of my co-worker, Brian." She said and looked through the window of the radio station to Brian looking in and shaking his head. "Everyone please be kind to him and if you have someone you need to tell anything to, go do it. I gotta go do the same." She said and started a song before leaving the booth and looking at Brian. "I have to go. All you have to do is continue the playlist and click the button for commercials in thirty minutes. It's marked." And with that, she took off out of the building and to her car so she could drive to Cedar Grill.

It felt like forever before she finally showed up at the restaurant where her best friend worked and she parked the car before slamming the door as she got out. She still felt like she was on vibrate as her heart raced and she was anxious. Opening the door to the restaurant, she burst in there with all eyes on her which caused her to stop and look through the sea of people until she found Renee standing there. This was it. This was her chance to say what she needed to say.

[liberalk1tsch]

part 1 of my new multi part thg fic from peeta’s pov based off of the song «the loneliest» by måneskin!

each part will be based off a different point in everlark’s relationship, starting from the first day of school when they’re 5 y/o, all the way through the quell. seeing as this is pt 1, this centres on the first time everlark meet each other, aka the start of his feelings for katniss💚🧡

(i swear it’ll get better lol this is just 5 y/o peeta pov so it’s a bit more limited✨)

this one goes out to all the angsty yearners out there

The Loneliest

You’ll be the saddest part of me

A part of me that will never be mine

It’s obvious

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

I grip my father’s hand tightly, dreading the moment I know he’s going to let go and push me towards the line of all the other 5-year-olds already forming outside the classroom door. It’s my first day of school, and I know I should be excited, but all I feel is an anxious pit in my stomach. There’s a few kids from town already in line, most of them with a parent or two watching them somewhat misty-eyed from the edge of the courtyard, but I’m truly astounded by just how many of my classmates are Seam.

I’d never been to the Seam, let alone had a conversation with someone from there. Whenever they come into the bakery, I always run to find my parents. My mother says the people from there are vermin, the worst kind of people that Twelve has to offer; I’m not allowed to go within two blocks of that side of the district, not even for deliveries within town. I’m not sure why. Looking at them now, they seem perfectly normal to me. They’re skinnier than us, for sure. Their clothes are a bit shabbier too. But normal nonetheless.

The squeaking of the gate opening snaps my attention away from my classmates, and I turn to see the only Seam face that really looks familiar. I recognize the man immediately from the times I’d peeked out my window early in the morning to see my father already awake, passing off a semi-stale loaf in exchange for a squirrel from the Seam man. I’d grown to look forward to the days when I saw the strange man in the alleyway. It meant we’d get to eat something other than rock-hard bread and nearly rotten goat cheese for dinner.

He appears to be around my father’s age with dark curls framing his face, and piercing grey eyes. This man carries himself differently from my father, though. Less weary, somehow, despite being Seam. As if the lines on his face are from years of smiling rather than scowling.

I half expect my father to greet the man from the Seam, but he just stares blankly at some fixed point on the horizon behind them.

It doesn’t matter anyways, as the Seam man’s attention is entirely occupied by the young girl who appears from behind him.

She has the same obsidian hair as her father, the same quicksilver eyes and dark olive skin, nearly as deep and rich a brown as the cocoa powder we use in the bakery. The morning sun glances off her hair, meticulously plaited in twin braids, save for a few unruly curls at the front that have already escaped in the lingering summer humidity. The girl wears a knee length, red plaid dress, but there’s something about the style of it that’s not totally Seam. It’s closer, really, to the clothes my mother gave to Delly’s family from her own childhood. Old-fashioned townie.

I must’ve been staring for a while, entranced by the appearance of the beautiful girl from the Seam, because my father finally nudges me and points her out.

“See that little girl?”

I nod, thinking I’m about to get told off for staring.

“I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,” he says.

I stare at my father in bewilderment. “A coal miner? Why would she want a coal miner if she could’ve had you?”

“Because when he sings… even the birds stop to listen,” my father says, glancing at the coal miner in question.

The girl’s dad is now crouched in front of her, saying something unintelligible that causes her to grin at him and throw her arms around his neck. He embraces his daughter and plants a kiss on her forehead before giving her one last wave as she runs off to join some other Seam kids in line. He walks over to the rest of the waiting parents, whistling an unfamiliar tune, and it’s then that I realize he’s the only parent from the Seam to see his child off.

It makes sense, of course. The Seam is mostly coal miners, and the mines have been open for two, maybe three hours already. It’s a wonder any Seam parent made it at all. He must’ve risked something important to be here today.

It’s then that the teacher finally opens the classroom door and the rest of the kids start to be corralled into line by their parents. My father moves to drop my hand, but I grab onto his tighter.

“Please,” I whisper. “I don’t want you to leave.” I can feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“Don’t be soft, Peeta,” he says, wrenching his hand away. “Just go find Delly. Have a nice day at school.”

I wipe my eyes and reluctantly join my classmates. But as the small groups that have gathered begin to thin out into a single file, I suddenly find myself directly behind the girl in the red dress.

As if sensing my gaze, she turns on her heel, those dove grey eyes boring into me. And there’s something about her stare that sets off a foreign fluttering feeling in my chest.

“What?” she asks, somewhat defensively.

“Oh, um… nothing,” I manage to choke out. “I mean, I just think your outfit is really pretty. Your hair too.”

Her cheeks turn as scarlet as the dress itself as she bashfully mumbles a soft “Thank you” and suddenly becomes very interested in her shoes.

“I’m Peeta,” I say, offering her my hand in the way my father said is polite. Part of me wonders if she’ll even take it after I seem to have embarrassed her with my flattery.

I feel my entire body exhale a sigh of relief as she tentatively reaches out.

“Katniss,” she says, shaking my hand.

Katniss.

I’d never heard a name quite like it, but as soon as it left her lips, I knew it would forever be my favorite.

Before I can blurt out something stupid, like how beautiful her name is and how perfectly it fits her, the teacher’s saying something and the kids in front of us start flooding into the classroom.

Katniss shifts her attention forward, but my eyes are locked on her. The way her skirt swishes when she turns, the way she turns up her chin and marches inside, though I know she must be as nervous as the rest of us. In fact, I’m so dazzled by her as I step into the room that I barely notice the tiny blonde girl barreling toward me until I’m tackled in a bear hug.

“Peeta!” squeals Delly in my ear as she squeezes me tight. “Happy first day of school! Are you excited? I could barely sleep, I was so excited. I can’t wait to meet everyone!”

“Yeah, Delly, I’m excited,” I say with a small smile, but I’m unable to tear my gaze away from Katniss, who now sits somewhat anxiously next to Madge, the mayor’s daughter.

Delly keeps babbling about all the people she’s already met, and how normal the Seam kids appear to be, and normally I’d have half a thought to listen to my friend’s endless stream of unfiltered thoughts. But as I stare at the mayor’s daughter next to Katniss, all I can think about is how I’ve never wanted to be someone else so badly in my whole life.

❁❁❁

“Does anybody know the valley song?”

The words are barely out of the music teacher’s mouth when someone’s hand shoots up immediately in the air.

“Katniss,” the teacher says, “Would you like to come up here and sing it for us, please?”

Katniss rises from her place next to Madge, and slowly makes her way to the front of the class. The teacher takes her hand and helps her up on a stool.

“Whenever you’re ready, Katniss.”

She takes a deep breath.

Down in the valley, valley so low,

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.

The train, love, hear the train blow.

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.

I’d never heard a voice so clear and sweet. Sure, I’d heard Delly singing before, but that always had more of a shrill and squeaky element to it.

Go build me a mansion, build it so high,

So I can see my true love go by.

See him go by, love, see him go by.

So I can see my true love go by.

The birds that had been twittering nonstop outside the window start to fall quiet, one by one.

Go write a letter, send it by mail.

Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail.

Capitol jail, love, to the Capitol jail.

Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail.

Everything is silent, as if the entire world is holding its breath, desperate not to miss a single note.

Roses are red, love; violets are blue.

Birds in the heavens know I love you.

Know I love you, oh, know I love you,

Birds in the heavens know I love you.

Everyone’s quiet for a moment, until I find myself rising from my chair to applaud the girl from the Seam. The rest of the class erupts into cheers immediately, and Katniss’ cheeks are once again burning red for the second time today. She shyly hops off the stool and rejoins Madge as the birds return to their own songs, though I could swear some of them were now chirping to the tune of the valley song.

Delly leans over to me and whispers, “She’s amazing!”

“Yeah.” I look over at Katniss, who I find staring back at me, but her gaze quickly flits away as that thing in my chest starts fluttering again. “She really is, huh?”

❁❁❁

“Ryan, how do I know if I’m in love with someone?”

My brother nearly chokes on the water he’s been chugging. “What?”

My oldest brother and I sit on a low wall outside the older kids’ wrestling room, waiting for our other brother to finish practice. He’d been late for some reason or another, so he’s outside doing windsprints while everyone else gets to go home. But since we’d promised our parents we’d walk home together, we now have to wait on him too.

“How do I know if I like a girl as more than a friend?”

My brother sets down his water bottle at his feet and hangs the towel that he’s been using to dry off his sweat on the wall next to him. “You've barely been here a day and you’re already having girl troubles? How does that happen, kid? You’re five years old.”

“It’s not like I was trying, Rye,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Is this about Delly?”

“No! Never,” I say, “She’s my sister, you know that.”

Ryan raises an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

“It’s not Delly!”

“Sure it’s not, Peeta,” he says with a chuckle. “Well, you know when you were a bit younger, and Dad used to throw you up in the air and catch you?” I nod. “You know that funny feeling you got in your stomach when you were falling, but before he caught you? That’s what it feels like, except it’s about a hundred times stronger, and it’s really hard to get it to go away. It’s like when you see them, you’re suddenly in an open freefall with no way to stop yourself.”

I sit quietly for a moment. “Rye, I think I’m in love with Katniss Everdeen.”

Ryan’s eyes widen in alarm. “Everdeen? Like from the Seam?”

“Yeah. She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, and when she sings it’s so sweet that the birds stop to listen,” I say.

“I’m sure she’s great, Peeta,” he says with a smile, though it could almost pass for a grimace. “Just do me a favor? Don’t tell Mother you like a girl from the Seam, especially not an Everdeen. It’ll be our little secret, promise?”

“I promise,” I say. I know how my mother feels about the Seam, and I couldn’t bear the thought of her hating Katniss that way. Keeping a secret wouldn’t be a problem. Besides, I don’t even know what to do with this newfound realization of feelings for Katniss. I can’t tell her about it, no, she’d probably hate me forever; she could barely tolerate me complimenting her dress this morning. It’s not like it would lead anywhere anyways. I know we’re too young, that we still have many years before I’d ever even be able to act on my feelings.

So for now I’m stuck in freefall for a girl I can’t have. And it’s absolutely miserable.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Mind & Heart

Summary: Augusnippets 2024 Day 31. Set in a Modern AU, Sci-fi AU. Mind Full AU. Toothless can feel what Hiccup is doing.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced near Death

Rating: Teen and Up

Dead Dove: No

Words: 483

Prompts: Bonus Day - Write whatever you want.

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless

Pairing: /

Author's Notes: And so "write whatever you want" is what I did. :) My final day for Augusnippets, posted on time! An immediate follow-up to Day 30's "This Choice Is His".

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

Toothless hated the humans, he hated them. After the loss of his tailfin, he should be glad that he’s alive he supposes, but he couldn’t even bring up that much. He’s a downed dragon, he’ll never touch the sky again, he’s meant to die. And if it wasn’t for these humans keeping him captive in this sorry excuse for a man-made den, he would be already. His suffering and shame would’ve ended, they should’ve just let nature take its course.

Hiccup thought differently.

In the middle of the night, when Night Furies are supposed to be the most active, he sneaks into his den. Toothless growls, already disliking the boy. The humans think he’s so weak, so bad at being a dragon that they think this small boy is nothing to him?!

“Ah, ha-hey, um…” But Hiccup is rightfully anxious, fumbling with a lengthy roll of paper in his hands and keeping his wide-eyed gaze on the Night Fury. He’s scared and yet he’s here.

Toothless can tell that he’s like his mother, there’s a pull to him that he usually only feels with other dragons. It’s untapped, like a barrier. Humans would consider it a plastic wrapping someone should poke a hole into to get to whats inside.

“I-I made this and, uh…” Hiccup unrolls the roll and shows it to him from far away. Toothless grows silent as he takes a look. Not bothering to get up until he thinks he recognizes what’s on it. It looks like his tailfin.

“I-I have this mentor and he- and he- and he teaches me things and, uh… I think I can help you fly again.” Hiccup explains, anxiety growing as the very dangerous Night Fury quietly steps closer.

Toothless reaches out to him, grabs hold of that unseen pull, pokes a hole through that proverbial plastic wrapping and finds only genuine intention. Hiccup doesn’t want him to waste away in this fake den, a fate all the other humans have already resigned him to. There’s a brilliant head on his shoulders and he wants to use it for good.

Toothless hasn’t let go of that pull since. He’s kept tugging and tugging, until they’re able to practically read each other’s minds without even trying.

-XOXOX-

Five years later in the middle of the night, Toothless shoots awake. The cause? A debilitating emptiness in the corner of his self reserved just for his human. Something is wrong, he knows there is. That spot fills with a kind of dread he has never experienced before.

He begins clawing on the door and the one-way window, he needs to get out of here. Something is wrong and he needs to fix it. He charges up a plasma blast strong enough to tear through the mostly iron hull hidden by fake foliage. He can feel Hiccup slipping away and nothing will stand between him and saving his human.

[astoldbyaja]

Bark like you want it! -Ch. 7~AU Demon Slayer~

Shit this was so bad! Akaza still had his hand clamped over my wrist so I couldn’t get away and it seemed we were far enough from the Unholy that no one noticed the clear scene of a possible gang shootout about to take place.

“So Kyojuro, you found me before I could find you. I respect that, it shows gumption.” Akaza purred, his hold on his gun was so steady. My heartbeat was beating rapidly now. “I’ve been waiting for you, my friend. We have a score to settle.”

Kyojuro’s look of focus was so vicious and sharp as his gun seemed pointed right at Akaza’s face.

“Whatever business we have we can finish it but let Yara go.” he said. I was trembling, Akaza’s grip on my wrist tightened further as he smirked.

“Why, you have no need to worry about my girl.” he said. My eyes snapped to the back of the man’s head.

“Son of a bitch!” I said lowly.

“This is tiresome, if we’re gonna do this we better be ready for the fall out.” Sekido said angrily.

“I don’t care, I’m just ready for the real fun to start!” Karuku said with a snicker.

“If someone sees us and the police get called, we’ll be in real trouble with the master.” Aizetsu told. Master? I don’t even want to know.

“H-hey look guys, this was all just a big misunderstanding. No need to do anything that you’d all regret later right? Akaza, I reached out to Kyojuro.” I said. Akaza’s head tilted some to face me. “I thought I was in trouble, so I called him. That’s it.”

“Have you been fucking him?” he asked instead. I tensed and shook my head not wanting him to turn his gun on me.

“No of course not! I met him through other friends.” I replied. In the distance I could hear police sirens and I winced.

“Fuck!” Tengen said.

“We gotta go and we gotta go now!” Sanemi said and I pulled back from Akaza’s hold. Luckily, he let me go.

“We need to get out of here now!” Urogi said. Akaza looked at me and then Kyojuro putting his gun away.

“You and I will finish our business.” he threatened. Kyojuro nodded.

“Of that I have no doubt.” he said. The four brothers and Akaza began to run off and the truck moved closer to me, the back door opening. “Yara get in the truck now!”

Damn, yes sir! However I felt I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know how safe I would be with these guys, but I didn’t want to take my chance with the cops either. I got into the back seat and the truck took off. Sanemi and Kyojuro moved through the back window of the truck and sat on either side of me, their guns nowhere to be seen.

I was tense and anxious, wondering what it was they would do. I now feel Kyojuro’s hand over mine, his eyes peering into me.

“Yara, are you alright?” he asked. I looked at him and nodded.

“I’m fine. I didn’t think you all would come. I didn’t mean to start any trouble, honest.” I said quickly.

“Hey don’t sweat it. Shinobu told us that Akaza was your past.” Sanemi said.

“It just seems like he doesn’t believe that.” Obanai said. Tengen scoffed.

“I’m just pissed I didn’t get to take any of them down. Guess it didn’t matter if Gyutaro and his cunt of a sister wasn’t there. I really want to beat their asses.” he said.

“I don’t know how to get away from him without transferring classes and I am already beyond the grace period to drop classes.” I replied.

“Don’t worry Yara, we’ll figure something out.” Kyojuro said. I tensed and removed my hands from him.

“No you won’t. None of you will.” I replied of which Obanai turned to look back in his seat, his offended face matching Sanemi’s.

“Excuse you?” he hissed.

“I don’t want to cause trouble for either gang. I thought only Kyojuro would come,” I said shooting him a glare but looking away, “but it doesn’t matter. My presence is causing too much drama for you all surely you all see that.”

There was a silence in the car.

“I haven’t noticed any inconveniences with having you around.” Sanemi said.

“Neither have I.” Tengen added.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Obanai added.

“Yara, you’re problems are our problems. Ever since you and I got together, everyone’s accepted you into our gang. So don’t ever feel like you’re a burden to us! I’ll protect you!” Kyojuro said. Slowly I let my head look at him upon hearing what he said. Got together, he still thinks we’re together. Did he tell his gang that we were together! Oh, I was right, he is just as bad as Akaza! Both men are obsessed!

“Also your hair looks gorgeous by the way!” Kyojuro added. I just leaned back in my seat.

“Thanks.” I muttered. Okay so I’m trapped between two gangs and a hard place. Okay so not only do I need to survive my classes, I’ll need to move out of my current apartment as well. I needed to sever ties with everyone and just silently slip away.

“By the way, we didn’t tell Shinobu or Mitsuri so if we can just keep this between us that’d be great. Don’t need them worrying or anything.” Sanemi told.

“Fine.” I replied and just remained silent. I just had to fuck the wrong guys. It was late and I was just wanting to sleep. Once the truck pulled up to my apartment, Kyojuro let me out and I walked up to the apartment door. I noticed he was following me, and I paused at the door and looked up at him.

“Yara I’m sorry for letting on to the guys that we were together. I felt it was the only way to get them to help in case the situation with Akaza called for it.” he said. I didn’t believe him. I just shook my head.

“Let’s just forget all of this happened tonight. None of it matter right now.” I replied moving to pull my keys from my dress. I noticed his feet were plastered in the ground and I realized he was not planning to leave. I got my answer Tengen’s truck was already pulling away. I sighed and just shook my head.

“I just don’t want you to be alone tonight.” he excused. Yeah, I’m so sure! And shouldn’t that be my decision!

“Just be quiet.” I muttered. I was too tired to argue about him basically maneuvering his way into my place. I sent the girls a message to tell them I was home and when I got to my room, I just opened my door and went in, Kyojuro following silently. “I need to shower; do you need to?”

Kyojuro removed his shoes and placed them by the door. He shook his head smiling warmly.

“No. I have showered already.” he said. I only nodded and moved into the bathroom, removing my make up then my clothes and getting in the shower. This was so bad, and I didn’t even really know how I was going to go about getting away from these people without it coming back on me. It would be one thing if I was just involved with one gang separating myself from them would be easy. But two gangs, the fuck! How was I supposed to attend classes knowing both Akaza and Kyojuro were wanting my attention. I could probably get away from Kyojuro if I move to a different apartment and just block everyone’s numbers. It’s a big campus, I was sure to never see any of them. I don’t have any classes with them now.

As for Akaza, I just needed to survive the one classes we had together. Easy right. No because it’ll take either of them complaining to their little gang about me and then we’ll have another gym shower room situation like with Doma and Kokushibo and I do not want any more attractive bodies against me. Once I dried off and got lotioned, I opened the door to my bathroom and noticed a naked Kyojuro lying on top of my bed, arms behind his head.

“Dude!” I whispered. “Why are you naked?”

He glanced at me with big bright eyes.

“Why are you naked?”

“It’s my room, I just got out the shower and my pajamas are out here.” I said. He’s already seen me mostly naked so I didn’t think seeing me quickly naked would be a problem while I got changed.

“Well, I don’t have any pajamas plus I like…to sleep… naked.” he said his voice trailing off as his eyes moved all over me. In that moment I watched his cock slowly stand to attention.

“Really?” I asked quickly moving to my dresser to find my gown. I too like to sleep naked but when I’m alone! He snickered.

“You sound pent up Yara. I know your night didn’t go too well and I think we should at least end it right.” he purred. I scoffed.

“Oh yeah and what could you possibly have in mind?” I asked sarcastically as I moved to pull one of my gowns out of the drawer. I was turning and putting it back on when I paused noticing he was stroking his cock to full hardness, a devilish smirk on his lips. I tensed feeling the low throbbing sensations coming from between my legs. My body was reminding me that my brain promised it dancing and sex, and my pussy is reminding me to collect on both of those.

“Come bounce on it Yara. I know you want to.” he said. I stared at him for a brief moment before sighing heavily and dropping my gown to the ground moving over to the bed.

Fuck!

------------

Author's Notes

If Yara thinks she's going to move out of that apartment with 0 issues HAAA she has another thought coming and if she does manage to move out, she thinks she's going to be roomed with some strangers with no drama? HHAAAAA

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