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sugary-strawberry-shortcake · 6 days ago

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Reverse Blossom (Yandere Batfam x Neglected! Poison Ivy‘s Daughter! Reader)

Chapter 4

A/N: i‘m back from my trip!! And seeing elephants for the first time was amazing!! Also I want to thank all of you guys for your love and support 🩷. I will answer all of you now. By the way my inbox is open for asks, request, anything!! I have the next 4 chapters of blossom reverse already prepared just need to edit them:) also if you want to be on he taglist the post is here.

I decided to give Y/N green eyes since she is the daughter of Poison Ivy, but if that bothers you try to imagine them as a different eye color. In a few chapter she will be wearing contact lenses.

He remembered the first time he met her.

It had been late. The manor was quiet. Bruce and Alfred had just returned from Gotham’s south ward, where Pamela Isley had finally been subdued—again. But this time, she’d left something behind.

Or rather, someone.

A toddler. Two years old. Big green doe eyes. Wrapped in a pale green cardigan and a layer of silence.

She stood behind Alfred’s leg, clinging to the fabric with both hands. Dirt smudged her face. Vines clung to her shoes like they didn’t want to let go.

He hadn’t known what to say at first.

But then she looked up at him—eyes wide, curious, cautious. He felt his heart soar.

He crouched.

Soft smile. Gentle voice.

“Hey there, Little Flower.”

She blinked, then giggled.

That was it. That was her name. “My Little Flower.”

The one who would follow him for years to come.

⸻

A few weeks after that, everything changed.

Bruce got stricter. Patrols got longer. Dick’s time at the manor became fragmented. Split between being Robin and trying to figure out who he was outside of the mask.

And somewhere in the middle of that chaos, she kept growing.

She started knocking on his door with drawings.

“Dicky, do you wanna see what I made?”

“Can you help me with this book? It’s about flowers and I thought you’d like it.”

“Do you have time for me today?”

And every time, it was—

“Not now.”

“Maybe next time.”

“Sorry, kiddo. Busy.”

Always busy. Always trying to protect Gotham.

Trying to live up to Bruce.

Trying to survive the weight of the Bat.

And then Jason died.

And the manor stopped feeling like a home.

Dick left. Blüdhaven became his distraction. His escape.

He told himself he was doing it for his own mental health. That Bruce was spiraling and Gotham was suffocating and—

And she was fine.

Alfred was there. Bruce would keep her safe.

He had no idea she’d wait for him to come back everyday.

No idea she started leaving her drawings at his door instead of knocking.

(Y/N)

She’d stopped knocking after the the tenth “maybe next time.”

She’d stopped drawing for him after the 20th.

She told herself it was okay.

Dick was busy. He was Robin. He had villains to fight. Gotham to protect.

She was just the quiet girl in the hallway with too many flowers in her hands.

If he wanted to spend time with her—he would.

That’s what she believed.

Until Tim came.

And Dick was there. Teaching him, praising him, sparring with him in the cave while she sat on the stairs with a book in her lap and a smile she kept forcing to stay in place.

Until Damian came.

And suddenly Dick was everywhere.

Taking him to movies.

Letting him win at arcade games.

Buying him snacks.

Sparring, laughing, teaching.

She’d ask:

“Can I come too?”

“Maybe next time.”

“I promise, sweetheart.”

But there was never a next time.

One night, she and Damian fought. Badly.

She didn’t want to remember what he said. Or how he made her cry.

But what hurt more was when Dick had found them—

And scolded her.

“What did you do to set him off, Little Flower?”

“He’s still adjusting. Try to be patient.”

She had just stood there.

Her hands were scratched. Her lip was bleeding.

Damian hadn’t even apologized.

And Dick hadn’t asked what happened. Didn’t care if she was fine. No one had.

He just assumed.

Because she was always the easy one. The quiet one.

The one who could be told “next time.”

(Dick)

He remembered now.

Her outside the cave door. Watching while he trained Damian.

Sitting crisscross on the hallway floor, pretending to read while her eyes never left him.

Waving at him from the garden window when he pulled out of the driveway.

He remembered saying “I’ll make it up to you.”

And then never did.

Maybe he hadn’t ignored her out of malice.

Maybe it was fear.

She was soft.

Delicate.

Too sweet for the blood-soaked world they all lived in.

He told himself he was protecting her by keeping her out of it.

But now…

Now she was disappearing before his eyes.

He stood alone in her room a while longer.

Just breathing.

The air smelled faintly like soil and old petals. The kind of smell that came from a garden that hadn’t been touched in too long.

He looked at the empty desk.

The clean corners.

The lifeless gray sheets.

His hands curled into fists—then relaxed.

“She’s still the same girl,” he told himself.

Just quieter. Just older. Just waiting for him to show up again.

He could make this right.

He just had to be present now.

He’d take her out this weekend.

To the movies. Or the bookstore—she used to love stories about mythical plants.

He could show her around Blüdhaven, take her for ice cream, walk her through the park.

Anything she wanted.

He’d ask what music she listened to now.

What books she liked.

If she still knew how to braid flower crowns.

He’d be a good brother this time.

The good brother.

Because she was still his Little Flower.

And she hadn’t wilted.

Not really.

Not yet.

He just had to reach her in time.

_____

The cafeteria buzzed with laughter and noise, trays clattering and chairs scraping against tile. Y/N walked in with a calmness that looked effortless—but only because she’d mastered it.

Her hair was pinned back neatly today. A soft cardigan over her uniform hugged her shoulders. Her smile was sweet, polite. The kind that melted teachers and made her friends giggle and call her “an angel.”

It wasn’t real.

But no one here needed to know that.

⸻

She spotted Damian at his usual table across the courtyard—half-shaded, slightly elevated, surrounded by boys who wore smugness like an accessory.

She hadn’t approached him in almost a month.

Not since she came back.

And even now, it twisted something sharp in her chest.

But she needed a cover.

She needed someone to relay the lie.

⸻

“Wayne,” one of his classmates grinned, nudging Damian with a cocky elbow. “Look who it is. Thought your baby sister forgot we existed.”

Damian looked up lazily, already annoyed—until his eyes landed on her.

For half a second, his face flickered.

Surprise.

Then nothing.

Just that familiar sneer curling on his lips.

She stood in front of the table with her hands folded in front of her skirt, like a model student waiting to speak.

Her smile was gentle. Practiced.

Too practiced.

“Hi, Damian,” she said softly. “Can I ask you something?”

He didn’t answer at first.

His eyes ran over her.

Slow. Quiet. Calculating.

Her tone was too even.

Her smile too polite.

She wasn’t trying to sit. Wasn’t looking at him with adoration like she used to.

He didn’t like it.

She cleared her throat lightly, still smiling.

“I have an after-school activity today. For a group project. I’ll be back by seven or eight, but I’m going with a few friends, so I don’t need Alfred to pick me up.”

Damian’s expression didn’t change.

“That’s it?” he said finally, voice flat.

“Mm-hm.” She nodded sweetly. “Just let Alfred know for me, please?”

There was a pause.

“You’re lying.”

The words were quiet. Not loud enough for the others to hear. Just for her.

Her smile didn’t waver. Although her heart stopped. She has always been a bad liar and Damian had always been too clever.

“Please,” she repeated. “Tell him?”

He stared at her.

She stared back.

And that was when it really hit him.

She wasn’t asking like she used to.

Not with hope. Not with that little-girl eagerness she used to wrap around him like a ribbon.

She was just… managing him.

Like one more problem to solve.

His jaw clenched.

"Fine,” he muttered. “Whatever. I’ll tell him.”

She beamed—too perfect—and turned without another word.

He watched her walk away.

She didn’t look back. Didn’t smile or thank him. Didn’t hesitate.

Just floated back to her group like she had never been at his table at all.

His classmates cracked a few jokes, tossed around stupid theories—“You think she’s got a secret boyfriend?” “Maybe she finally got tired of the prince of darkness”—but Damian barely heard them.

His eyes didn’t leave her.

Not for a second.

She was hiding something.

He didn’t know what.

But it unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

There had always been a softness about her that grated on him.

But now that it was gone?

He found himself trying to figure out where it had gone.

And who had taken it.

She left the building last.

Her friends waved at her from the school gates, their usual chorus of laughter and affection echoing behind her.

“See you tomorrow, babe!”

“Text me the homework!”

“Don’t forget your scarf!”

Y/N smiled, waved, nodded.

Every move was practiced.

Perfect.

Painless.

She slipped the scarf higher up her neck once she turned the corner, tucking her hair into the collar and pulling the fabric loosely over her head like a hood. She walked fast. Quiet. Unseen.

By the time she reached the end of the block, her expression was gone.

Fear. Nervousness.

The bus ride took fifty-seven minutes.

She sat near the back, eyes low, hands folded around the burner phone she had bought with the cash Alfred had given her for food to buy for herself on her birthdays. She never did buy herself food.

The phone’s battery died somewhere around Midtown, but she knew the route by heart already.

She watched the buildings change.

From clean stone and glass to chipped bricks and graffiti-covered fences.

The bus hissed to a stop at the corner of 57th and Arlen.

She got off.

The sidewalk was cracked. A neon sign flickered overhead in a language she didn’t recognize. A man stood outside a liquor store with three missing teeth and a cigarette barely lit.

She kept walking.

The address was scrawled on the inside of her wrist in faded pen.

The building was narrow. Old. Smelled faintly of mildew and paint thinner. But it had three locks on every door and no visible mold, so that already made it better than some others she’d seen online.

She rang the buzzer.

A moment later, an older man—mid-sixties, gray hair slicked back, jacket too big—opened the lobby door with a metal key in hand and a clipboard under his arm.

He stared at her.

“You… uh…” His eyes flicked up and down. Surprised. “You’re the one who scheduled the 4:30 appointment?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, adjusting the scarf and deepening her voice just a little. “I’m Emilia—Emilia Forenzi. I am… exchange student. From Italy.”

The man blinked.

Her accent was soft, light, vaguely musical. A touch of Rome, stolen from too many foreign films.

“You’re Italian?” he asked, skeptical.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I study here. I am almost eighteen. I know I look young, but it’s normal. In Italy, we… age well.”

“…Right.”

She smiled, sweet and slightly nervous. “May I see the apartment, please?”

He looked down at the clipboard, then back up. Something in her tone—her posture—seemed to relax him. Soften him.

“Fine. Come in. But I usually don’t deal with minors, alright? No funny business.”

“I understand.”

She followed him up three flights of stairs.

The apartment was small.

One room. Tiny kitchen. Cracked tile in the bathroom. Rust along the radiator. A smell of something faintly sweet and rotten in the walls.

But the window opened.

The lock worked.

The shower had water pressure.

It was… doable.

“Like I said,” the landlord muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he handed her a small application form, “this neighborhood’s not too bad if you keep your head down. But it’s still Gotham. You get a pretty girl living alone, some eyes are gonna notice.”

She swallowed. “I can handle.”

He looked at her again. “You sure you’re almost eighteen?”

“Yes,” she said immediately.

“You don’t got ID?”

“In Italy,” she lied. “I forgot to renew it before flight.”

“Uh-huh.” He frowned.

Then handed her a pen.

"You’ll need a signature. From a parent or guardian. Permission form, you understand? Legal reasons.”

She froze.

The air felt suddenly too cold.

“…P-permission?” she repeated.

“Yeah.” He gave her a look. “You’re a minor. No signature, no keys. Especially not in a place like this.”

She stared at the form.

Blank lines. Parent signature. Emergency contact.

All the things she didn’t have.

All the things she couldn’t ask for.

Her hands tightened on the pen.

“…I—I will get it,” she said softly.

The man nodded. “Alright. You get that, bring it back here. I’ll hold the place till the end of the week. But no signature? I can’t help you.”

She nodded again.

But her chest was hollow.

The girl smiled at the man and said her goodbyes. Not missing the worried frown he sends her.

As she walked back down the stairs, scarf tight around her throat and hands curled into fists inside her sleeves, she realized her pulse was shaking.

She had no one to sign for her.

She had no one to ask.

____

Damian Wayne | The Manor |

The main hallway was quiet when Damian walked in, dropping his bag onto the bench near the entrance.

The manor always had a certain weight to it after sunset—an old, cavernous silence that clung to the walls like shadows. But today, something felt off.

More than usual.

⸻

He tugged at his uniform blazer, unbuttoned it, and turned the corner—only to pause at the top of the main staircase.

Someone was standing at the bottom.

Dick.

“…What are you doing here?” Damian asked, tone flat.

His brother was leaning on the bannister like he’d been waiting for someone. His hair was slightly messy, still in his travel jacket, eyes distant and too focused for someone just home from Blüdhaven.

Dick looked up, blinking as if only just realizing Damian had spoken.

“…Hey.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“I could say the same to you.”

Damian rolled his eyes and descended the stairs. “I live here.”

“Yeah, well… I’m visiting.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “You never just visit. You’re either gone or calling Alfred at 3 a.m. for muscle cream.”

Dick gave a weak smile but didn’t defend himself.

He was still watching the front doors.

Still waiting.

Damian paused halfway down.

“Who are you waiting for?”

“Y/N.”

Damian blinked. “…Why?”

Dick scratched the back of his neck, his smile faltering. “Just… thought I’d talk to her. Spend some time. I stopped by her room earlier. You know, just… realized I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Damian tilted his head slightly. “She’s not here.”

“I can see that.”

“She said she has a school project. After school thing. With her friends.”

Dick frowned. “That so?”

“That’s what she told me,” Damian said coolly, but something in his voice betrayed the fact that he didn’t fully believe it.

And Dick caught it.

“…You sound like you don’t buy it.”

Damian didn’t answer.

Instead, he walked past him toward the kitchen.

Dick turned, following him with a look.

“She used to come home straight after school, right?” he asked. “She’s not the type to hang around malls or… sneak out.”

Damian stopped. His jaw tensed.

“She doesn’t lie,” he said.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “But she did.”

Damian didn’t respond.

⸻

It was 6:56 now.

Dick checked the clock.

Still no sign of her.

And the longer the minutes ticked by, the more wrong it felt.

He didn’t want to be dramatic. Didn’t want to jump into full protective-mode. But something about it nagged at him.

She always came straight home after school.

She always told Alfred where she was.

And now?

“Maybe we should check in,” Dick said quietly.

Damian’s expression didn’t change.

But his eyes darkened.

_____

Her fingers were stiff by the time she reached the manor gates.

The walk from the bus stop had been longer than she remembered—colder too. The wind had picked up along the hillside, numbing her ears and flushing her cheeks, and even though the streets had mostly emptied by that hour, she had kept her scarf high and her head down.

The apartment application was folded tightly in her backpack, zipped into the inner lining where no one could see. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding since she’d left the landlord’s office. Even now, it beat against her ribs like it didn’t know she was safe yet.

She gripped her key in cold fingers and slipped it into the lock.

The manor door creaked open.

Warm air met her instantly. Familiar. Scented with faint woodsmoke and something rich from the kitchen. Maybe Alfred had made stew.

She exhaled, stepping in—

And froze.

At the top of the stairs, they were waiting.

Dick and Damian.

Both standing.

Both silent.

Damian leaned slightly on the banister, arms crossed. His expression unreadable, sharp eyes fixed on her like they were dissecting the very air she brought in with her.

Dick stood taller, hands in the pockets of his jacket, brows pulled in a worried line. Not angry. Just… tense. Focused.

Like they were both watching for something.

Her heart jumped.

She hadn’t expected to see him.

Dick.

Not yet.

Not this soon.

In the previous timeline, he hadn’t returned from Blüdhaven for months. By the time he had, she would have already faded into the walls. By then, he didn’t notice her until it was too late.

So when she looked up the stairs and saw him standing there beside Damian—older, taller, all soft concern wrapped in blue and black—her breath caught.

And then—

“My Little Flower.”

Her body jolted. Eyes wide.

That name. That name that hadn’t passed his lips in years.

She flinched before she could stop herself.

Dick’s brow creased. “Hey—what’s wrong?”

She shook her head quickly, lips tugging into a reflexive smile. “Nothing. I just didn’t know you were home.”

“I just got in. Wanted to surprise everyone.” His voice dipped softer. “Especially you.”

That made her stomach twist.

He hadn’t said that in years either. Not even before she died. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t even spoken that softly with her in years.

Dick came down a few steps.

Damian followed silently, slower, more calculated in his movements. His arms weren’t crossed anymore. His hands were at his sides, but stiff—ready.

“Where were you?” Dick asked gently, the kind of warmth that would’ve made her melt when she was younger. Or if she was her true fourteen-year-old self.

She swallowed. “I told Damian earlier—group project. We were at a friend’s house. We lost track of time.”

Damian’s eyes sharpened.

He took another step.

“You don’t do group projects,” he said flatly.

She looked at him.

“I do, actually. For history class. Ms. Varela assigned one yesterday.”

“Who?” Dick asked, tilting his head.

“Uh… Maya,” she said. “Her name’s Maya. She lives near Gotham Heights.”

Damian’s stare was unrelenting.

“You didn’t mention that earlier.”

“I forgot,” she said quickly. “I was rushing.”

“Which Maya?” he asked. “Last name.”

YN hesitated.

Too long.

“Rossi,” she said.

Another lie.

Another crack in the glass.

Dick’s smile was still there, but it looked strained now. Forced. He was trying to believe her. He wanted to. His little flower would never lie to him.

But his eyes flicked to Damian for a second—and that moment said more than anything.

They didn’t believe her.

She felt it like heat crawling up her neck.

“I texted you,” Dick said. “We tried to call.”

“I didn’t see,” she replied, pulling her bag closer. “Phone died on the bus.”

“You took a bus?” Damian asked.

“Yeah. It was fine.”

“That area’s not fine,” he said, voice sharper now. “If you were really near Gotham Heights, you shouldn’t be walking around alone.”

“I wasn’t alone.”

“Then tell me where exactly you were. Street. Building number.”

She hesitated again.

The silence was too long.

“I don’t remember the street,” she said. “We just followed Maya from school.”

Damian stepped closer.

He was still a full step below her on the staircase, but somehow he still felt like he was looking down on her. Maybe due their height difference.

“You’re lying,” he said, quiet, razor-sharp.

Her breath caught.

Dick’s hand rested lightly on her slender shoulder. “Hey, let’s not jump on her. Maybe she’s just tired. It’s been a long day.”

But even his voice had changed now. The warmth was still there—but underneath, there was a thread of doubt. Of tension.

They weren’t backing down.

They were watching.

And she knew—if she gave them one more chance to press harder—

They’d start digging.

She smiled again. Soft. Rehearsed.

“I’ll go change. I still have some homework to finish.”

She stepped past them before they could answer. And neither of them moved.

But their eyes never left her.

She shut the door behind her faster than she meant to.

Click.

Locked.

She didn’t usually lock her door.

But everything was too much.

Her pulse was still high. Her fingers trembled just slightly as she set her bag down and crossed to her desk.

The room smelled like earth and blooming flowers. Familiar. Safe.

But wrong now.

Everything was wrong.

⸻

She plugged in her phone, the screen flickering back to life after a few long seconds.

Six missed calls.

Three messages from Dick:

hey, just checking in ☀️ you good?

miss you, little flower 💙

come talk to me when you’re home? 🍯🌼

Her stomach turned.

He hadn’t texted her in years. Not even once during the worst of it.

He used to leave her on read for days, weeks.

And now—he was texting her with emojis?

He was calling her Little Flower again like it hadn’t been buried years ago with every broken promise.

For a moment—just a moment—her heart ached.

Because maybe… maybe this was what she’d wanted back then.

Just a message. Just a moment of attention.

Just a brother who remembered her.

But it was too late.

And it felt wrong.

She didn’t know what was changing the past.

Or why they were suddenly looking at her again.

But it wasn’t for the right reasons.

It wasn’t love. Not really.

It was something else.

Something colder.

Something that made her skin prickle even when they smiled.

She stared at the screen a few seconds longer, then set it facedown.

Her mind was still spiraling.

What if they started tracking her phone?

What if they were already suspicious?

What if they tried to dig?

She stood and moved to her door.

Unlocked it just enough to open it a crack.

Alfred was walking past with a tray, heading toward the dining room.

“Sweetheart?” he asked, pausing when he saw her. “You’re not coming down?”

She gave him a soft, tired smile.

“I still have to finish that group project,” she said.

Alfred hesitated. His eyes searched her face, gentle and a little too knowing.

“I see,” he said quietly. “Shall I bring your dinner up, then?”

"Please.”

He gave her a little nod.

And left.

⸻

The dining room was set.

Empty seat at the end of the table.

Same as always.

Dick sat quietly across from Damian. Neither of them had touched their food yet.

Their eyes met once.

And something passed between them.

Not words.

Not questions.

Just quiet understanding.

They were both thinking the same thing:

She was hiding something.

And they were going to find out what it was.

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aleskyyy · 27 days ago

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Crimson Mercy — Geum Seong Je x F!Reader

You were meant to die. Seong Je was supposed to put a bullet between your eyes. But instead of death, he gave you captivity—and then something far more dangerous. Love. In a world ruled by knives and silence, he becomes your prison and your only safety. And you? You become the only weakness he can’t destroy.

Warnings— attempt murderer, obsessive behavior, suggestive content, MDNI!

Main Masterlist WHC Masterlist

You remembered the cold cement floor, the stench of gasoline, the chaos in your chest when someone from Union grabbed you. You weren’t supposed to see what you saw—Na Baekjin made that clear when he ordered Seong Je to kill you. Quick. Clean. But Seong Je didn’t follow the rules that day.

You woke up in a cabin, surrounded by forest and silence. Your wrists were raw from rope. Your voice hoarse from screaming. But Seong Je was calm. Always calm. He stood in the doorway, watching you like a wolf sizing up prey he wasn’t sure he wanted to eat.

“Why am I alive?” you asked.

He didn’t answer. Just tossed you a blanket and walked away.

Days blurred. The air outside was cold. Inside, colder. Except for his eyes. They burned.

You were the only soft thing in Seong Je’s world. And he didn’t know what to do with you. He left food. Water. Never said much. But sometimes, you caught him staring. Like he hated you. Or like he wanted something far worse.

“You can’t keep me here forever,” you said once.

He replied without turning. “I don’t plan to.”

You weren’t sure if he meant freedom or death.

Weeks passed.

You stopped trying to escape. Not because you trusted him—but because some sick, terrifying part of you didn’t want to leave.

You started noticing things: the way his hands trembled when he stitched up his wounds. The scar that ran down his back like a whisper of a past too brutal to tell. The way he only ever slept on the couch, never in the same room. And then, there were the nights he stood by your door, silent, just listening to your breathing.

You should have hated him. But you didn’t.

One night, he came home bleeding. A rival from Union hit had gone bad. His arm was gashed open, blood soaking through his jacket. He collapsed on the floor, cursing under his breath.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled when you knelt beside him.

You touched him anyway. Your hands were gentle. His body was tense. You stitched him up with trembling fingers and fury in your heart.

“You’re going to die for them,” you whispered. “For Baekjin. For people who don’t care if you live or rot.”

His jaw clenched. His voice was hoarse. “And what are you, huh? A hostage who thinks she understands me?”

“No,” you said, meeting his eyes. “I’m the one who lived when you were supposed to kill me.”

He stared at you like he wanted to destroy you—or kiss you. Maybe both.

That night, everything changed.

The tension snapped.

You sat near the fire, wearing one of his shirts. He sat across from you, breathing heavy from the pain.

“You want to know why I didn’t kill you?” he said suddenly.

You didn’t speak.

“Because when I looked at you, I saw something I hadn’t seen in years. I saw fear—real fear. Not the fake kind. Not the begging, sniveling kind. You looked at me like I was already dead. And for the first time, I wanted to feel alive again.”

He crossed the room. Slowly. Carefully.

“Say something,” he rasped.

You stood. And then, your lips crashed into his.

The kiss was violent. A storm. Teeth clashing. Breath stolen. His hands gripped your waist like he didn’t know how to be gentle. You pulled him down with you—onto the floor, onto the blankets. Into the firelight. He hovered over you, chest rising and falling like he’d just run miles.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he warned.

“I’m not asking,” you whispered.

His mouth was on your neck. Your collarbone. His hands everywhere. He undressed you like he was peeling away years of pain, layer by layer. When his skin met yours, it was heat. Fury. Redemption.

He didn’t worship. He claimed.

You moaned his name. He silenced it with a kiss that tasted like obsession.

The world disappeared.

No Union. No orders. No threats.

Just his voice in your ear, low and reverent. “Mine.”

Just your nails on his back. Your legs around his waist. The raw way your bodies moved like they were always meant to break each other. When you came undone, it was with a cry you hadn’t let yourself make since the day he took you. And when he followed, it was with a tremor in his voice. Like he’d finally found something worth keeping.

Morning came. You lay in silence. His arm around you. Your breath in sync.

“What now?” you whispered.

He didn’t answer right away. Then, he said the one thing you didn’t expect:

“We run.”

You turned to him. “Na Baekjin will come for me. For us.”

He kissed your wrist. The same place he once would have slit.

“Let him.”

And in that moment, you realized—

He didn’t just spare your life.

He gave you a new one.

And this time, it would be bloody, messy, and yours.

Together.

#geum seongje x reader #geum seong je x reader #geum seongje #geum seong je #wolf keum x reader #wolf keum #keum seongje #weak hero class one #weak hero class two #weak hero class #weak hero class 1 #weak hero class 2 #lee jun young #kdrama

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airybcby · 3 days ago

Text

જ⁀✦ all the pieces fall right into place

( bllk boys x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — i bought all of these bc i wanted to and yeah.

♡ word count — 790 ( all together )

♡ content — multiple! x reader, rin itoshi x reader, nagi seishiro x reader, otoya eita x reader, tabito karasu x reader, kenyu yukimiya x reader, yoichi isagi x reader, fluff, literally a brain dump, not proofread

♡ synopsis — which bllk boy i associate with each elf glow reviver lip balm flavor (?)

── .✦ gettin' caught up in a moment, lipstick on your face

✦ vanilla toffee જ⁀ r. itoshi

Rin swears he doesn't like makeup. He didn't know that included your lip gloss.

You wear a lot, always trying out new flavors, and Rin's found out that he hates them all.

Fruity? He's out.

Cupcake? Too sweet.

Honey? It's bitter on your lips.

But when you walk up to him one day after a match? And you give him a kiss and he doesn't think about the taste?

He's leaning in for another one- trying to figure out what exactly you're wearing.

He's not sure what you've changed, but he likes this lip gloss a lot more than your others.

Is it possible for someone to buy all the stock of a product?

more under the cut!

✦ strawberry shortcake જ⁀ n. seishiro

Being with Nagi means that you don't really wear things on your face.

Not unless you want it to go to waste when he inevitably pulls you into bed to take a nap with him.

Nagi doesn't expect a flavor when he kisses you.

Maybe your mint gum.

Maybe a slight sweetness if you've eaten some of the candy he gave you.

So when you give him a kiss on the cheek and it's sticky? and sweet smelling? He looks up from his phone, staring at you as you grab your phone.

"What is that?"

"Hm? What's what?"

For once in his life, Nagi gets up out of his bed. His motivation to figure out what's on your lips over taking his want to lay in bed.

"Your mouth-"

"Oh! It's lip gloss, do you like it?"

"Mhm." He nods along sleepily before leaning to kiss you.

Yeah. You could wear this in bed, heck, he'd put it on himself as long as he could taste it when he kisses you.

✦ wild cherry જ⁀ e. otoya

Otoya loves when you wear red products on your lips.

Any time you do, he makes sure he gets a kiss from you, the mark staying on his lips or wherever for at least an hour.

So, actually, he bought you this lip gloss!

He's not the biggest fan of cherries, but hey! It's pigmented and makes your lips look good! Who is he to say no to one of his favorite things in the world?

"One more." He nods as he watches you put on yet another layer of the lip gloss on- as if he doesn't have red gloss smeared over his lips.

And a shiny kiss mark on his cheek. Both of them.

"It might stain..."

"Oh well."

✦ blackberry sorbet જ⁀ t. karasu

Karasu loves berries. Any type.

In his smoothies.

In fruit bowls.

He's the type of person who spends 5 minutes staring into a container of berries from the store to make sure they're 'just right.'

When you coming out of his bathroom to give him a goodbye kiss and you have a slight tint to your mouth? He doesn't think twice about it.

But when he gives you a kiss and tastes it?

"Blackberry?"

"Woah! It's new, how'd you know?"

"Lucky guess..."

That night he comes home with several containers of (good) blackberries.

He thinks it may be his new favorite berry.

✦ java chip જ⁀ k. yukimiya

Yukimiya Kenyu has always sworn he much preferred tea over coffee.

Some coffee is just too bitter.

Some too sweet.

The syrups? Sticky and everywhere.

He'll drink it, but coffee is never his first choice.

He also swears by the fact that he'll support any purchase you made.

A water gun in the middle of winter?

Sure, he's outside with you playing to your hearts content.

A heated blanket in summer? When he already runs hot naturally?

He just wraps you in it and wakes up sweaty as long as he can sleep next to you.

But when you kiss him when he gets home from practice? A sheen on your lips?

He's shocked to taste...coffee?

"Coffee?"

"Do you like it?"

And as long as you look at him with that smile?

He thinks coffee could become his drink of choice.

✦ yummy gummy જ⁀ y. isagi

Isagi Yoichi, to his core, is sweet.

Not in the way you think, though.

I mean, you've seen the way he is on the field.

Calling people clowns.

Treating them as if they are below him.

Isagi Yoichi has an awful sweet tooth.

Lollipops? Chocolate? Sweet-tarts?

You bet he's going to have at least one stored away on him at any time.

But his favorite sweet?

Your lipgloss.

You get onto him sometimes because you run out so fast, he's just so in love with you and the way you taste that he can't stop.

Any time he sees you with a shine on her lips? You can bet he's kissing you until it's gone off your lips and smeared around his.

He'll always buy it for you. Again and again.

If it means he can have his favorite fix.

now...1) i took my TIME on these pics omg my neck hurts and 2) you can def tell i wrote this from 3-5AM

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

✦ tags ✦ @irethepotato ✦ @kiyy0mei ✦ @x3nafix ✦ @sugacor3 ✦ @ohagiyoo✦ @reigensuperstar ✦ @nevvynevnev ✦ @virgothesimp ✦ @werfiedeii ✦ @psyzcraze ✦ @chiieni ✦ @syleepy ✦ @academiq ✦ @peachysaki116 ✦ @manjirosanosgirlfriend ✦ @anqelkoz ✦ @silverwings920 ✦ @snail127 ✦ @7leo7 ✦ @vyzoi ✦ @nishinoyaismycutie , join the taglist here!

⋆.˚✮ 2025 ©airybcby ✮˚.⋆

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captain-huggy-bear · 2 months ago

Note

Quinn or Clay with a girl with a lot of body hair because I'm so insecure about it and there's like no rep for girls having body hair everywhere

Quinn + PCOS vibes because as someone with PCOS I get this. In recent years with my hormones out of whack my body hair has grown darker and more and in places that people don't usually show on women because we're indoctrinated to believe we should all be hairless cats. I get it cause it makes me feel insecure when you're being told it shouldn't be there, so I got you, babes because I genuinely think we think and notice it more than any one else but I know my boy Quinn would notice you feeling insecure and try to make you feel better. TW: Insecurities, body image issues surrounding body hair, reader is not gender neutral, very much written from a cis woman's perspective Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

Quinn is so in tune with you, so aware of you that he always notices when you start to pull away, when something is heavy on your mind, when you're not quite feeling yourself. You're a master at hiding it from most people; a false smile here, a slightly bigger jacket there, a change of clothing that doesn't seem suspicious to anyone else, but to him is a red flag.

He knows you. He knows you get self conscious about many parts of your body but he knows in particular when you're feeling self conscious about your body hair. It's natural. He often tries to remind you that you're a human being, a fully grown woman, with hormones and body hair and a pulse. Tries to remind you that you're supposed to have it, that you're not a child. But, it doesn't stop that niggling feeling of self consciousness, the feeling like you're too masculine, too out of the realm of standard beauty practices.

Since puberty you've always had darker more obvious body hair and over the years its grown fast, longer, thicker and in places people said were for men. People constantly reminding you that women weren't supposed to have that, women were supposed to be smooth, hairless, an impossible and ridiculous standard that is simply a lie. But, whenever you forget that, whenever you start to judge your body, the hair on your stomach, arms, chest, the way it looks, you start to change your habits.

Like now. Quinn's watching you get dressed. The way you put layer after layer on despite the spring warmth outside...because you feel like hiding. To anyone else your comment that you felt chilly might be accepted, but not by Quinn. He knows you're going to be too hot all day, he knows the real reason you're piling the layers on and he can't accept it.

"Baby, take it off." Quinn's tugging at the giant hoodie, thick material, that you'd thrown on top of everything else you were wearing. You were already sweating, red in the face, too warm to be wearing it.

"I'm cold." You tug away from him, but he just tugs you back until you're facing him. Quinn's hands tug at the neck of the hoodie, before slipping inside to cup the back of your neck and round of your shoulder. Even that feels wrong, like you're not good enough for him to touch right now, insecurity bubbling in your chest.

"No...you're not."

"Quinn, I don't want to do this right now." You feel ugly, self-conscious, uncomfortable. You don't want to have this fight with him, you know he means well, but you're just not feeling it today.

"Baby, there's nothing wrong with how you look today, take it off, you're going to be boiling."

There's a pause before you answer, taking in the earnest way he looks at you, all soft puppy dog eyes like you wearing all these layers hurts him too. You really are too warm.

This time when Quinn tugs at the hoodie you let him pull it over your head until you're stood in front of him, arms crossed over your chest because you feel wrong. It's magnified for you, your perception of your body, of the things you deem flaws. Each hair on your arm seems too dark, too long. Each hair on your chest too masculine, that one hair on your neck you have to pluck, feeling like it's about to scream that it's there for all to see.

But, Quinn's eyes just soften further, smile starting to creep up. A look of love, adoration, admiration.

"You're so pretty, baby..." Your eyes fall to your shoes, biting your lip harshly because his words while sincere just feel like lies, because you don't feel pretty right now.

"I don't feel pretty...I feel manly."

The sigh he lets out is hurt on your behalf, almost a groan because how can you not see how pretty you are every day? How can you not feel like the most gorgeous person on earth when you are? It has Quinn taking your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the underside of your jaw, fingers easing into the hair on the side of your head.

"You're super pretty, prettiest girl in the world," His thumb brushes that one hair on your neck and it makes you want to curl up and die, eyes squeezing shut, but it's purposeful on Quinn's end. He needs you to understand that he doesn't care, that it doesn't make him find you any less beautiful or look down you. That you don't need to worry.

"But...."

"You're worrying about your body hair again, aren't you?"

You just nod your head because Quinn knows. He knows all your insecurities, each thought that runs through your head...because you've told him, because the one thing you never do is hide those feelings and thoughts from each other. Each mental storm is one to be weathered together.

"I love you. I think you're the most beautiful person I have ever met." Your eyes drift open, rising to meet his, genuine, earnest, determined to make you believe him in a way no one ever has before. How many times have you heard 'you're being silly'? How many times has someone disregarded your feelings? Made you feel emotional, hysterical? How many people have really taken them time to try to get you to think differently, feel differently without invalidating you.

"But..."

"No. No ands. No ifs. No buts. I think you're beautiful, I think you're beautiful when you don't pluck that hair on your neck you hate. I think you're beautiful when you don't wax the hair on your stomach. I don't care about it, I don't think it makes a difference to how pretty you are to me."

"You mean that?" Your voice is still small but there's that hint of hope there, that subtle change that tells Quinn you're starting believe him, that maybe he's getting through to you.

"Yeah, baby, I mean it. I just wish you felt as pretty as you are because you're so pretty. You need to stop being so mean to my girlfriend, baby..." His fingers brush your cheeks, gentle, soft, like he's afraid if he presses too hard you'll bruise like a ripe peach.

"Okay...I can try."

"Good, I'm here to remind you anytime." He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft and sweet. Unspoken meaning transferred from him to you.

Yeah, maybe you don't always feel good. Maybe you have your doubts, your insecurities, but Quinn? Oh, Quinn is going to do his damnedest to make you see what he sees when he looks at you.

Beauty.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes/reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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estellan0vella · 7 months ago

Text

A Little More Yours: L.F Lee Felix x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 11.1K

CW: Menace Minho, Simp Felix, Mentions of blood & a head injury, reader is a menace to chan General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II

The library is quieter than usual for a Thursday afternoon, the thick layer of snow outside insulating the world with an almost eerie stillness. You sit hunched over one of the large wooden tables, textbooks, notebooks, and loose sheets of paper sprawled in front of you like a chaotic map of your current assignment. Your hair's piled up into a messy bun, pens precariously tucked into it to keep it in place because heaven knows you don't have time to find an actual hair tie.

The buzzing of your phone vibrates against the wood of the table, loud enough that a couple of nearby students glance over in mild annoyance. You glance at the screen and sigh when you see Chan flashing across it. Of course. You already know what this is about.

Swiping the screen, you hold the phone up to your ear, bracing for the chaos on the other end.

"Y/N!" Chan's voice is frantic, slightly breathless. "We need you."

You sit back in your chair, rubbing your temple. "What now? You sound like someone died."

"Jisung's dumb ass fell out of bed and cracked his head open on the corner of the bedside table."

A laugh escapes you before you can stop it. "He what?!"

Chan groans. "Yeah, I know. It's stupid. But he's bleeding everywhere, and I don't know how bad it is. Can you-"

"I'm on my way," you cut him off, already gathering your things. "Gimme ten minutes. I'm at the library."

"Good. Just hurry the fuck up." Chan's voice softens slightly before he hangs up. "Thanks, Y/N."

You sigh, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck and grabbing the pile of textbooks and notebooks. You didn't bring a backpack today, another brilliant decision on your part, so now you're balancing everything in your arms like the leaning tower of Pisa. You slip your earmuffs over your head, muttering under your breath, and push through the double doors of the library.

The blast of cold air hits you like a wall as soon as you step outside. Snowflakes swirl around you in the dim afternoon light, sticking to the exposed skin of your stomach and thighs. Because, of course, you decided today of all days was the perfect time to wear a crop top. A crop top with underboob no less. At least you had the decency to wear thigh-high boots and a scarf, but the outfit is not snowstorm-friendly.

The Alpha Phi frat house isn't too far from the library, but it feels like a goddamn trek in this weather. By the time you get there, your fingers are stiff from the cold, and the snow has started to soak through your skirt.

The front door swings open before you can even knock, and Chan stands there, eyes immediately narrowing as he takes in your appearance.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he growls, yanking the stack of books out of your arms. "Why the fuck don't you have a coat? And why the fuck are you wearing a crop top that shows underboob in the middle of a goddamn snowstorm? Do you want to freeze your tits off, Y/N?"

You roll your eyes and adjust your scarf. "I didn't have a coat that went with my outfit, and this top is cute, okay?"

"You're stupid."

"Love you too," you shoot back, brushing past him into the warmth of the frat house. "Where's Jisung?"

Chan motions toward the living room, following close behind. "He's in there. Holding a blood-soaked towel to his head like an idiot."

You take a moment to kick off the snow from your boots before walking into the living room. Sure enough, Jisung is sprawled out on the couch, a towel pressed against the back of his head, his face scrunched up in discomfort.

"If I get blood on my clothes..." you warn, pulling your scarf and earmuffs off.

"I'll buy you new ones," Chan interrupts, already heading upstairs to grab the first aid kit you've stashed in his room for situations exactly like this.

"Appreciate it," you mutter, dropping to your knees next to Jisung. "Alright, Ji, let's see what we're dealing with."

Jisung whines dramatically as you carefully pull the towel away from his head, his eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck, this hurts. Why did I fall out of bed today?"

"Because you're a dumbass," you tease lightly, but there's genuine concern in your tone as you check the cut on the back of his head. You slip two fingers onto his wrist to check his pulse.

"How're you feeling?" you ask, watching him closely.

"Like I hit my fucking head on the corner of a table," he grumbles. His pulse is steady, which is a good sign.

"Any dizziness? Nausea?"

He scrunches up his face. "A little dizzy, but I think it's mostly because I'm terrified of bleeding out on the couch."

Before you can respond, Chan rushes back into the room with the first aid kit. He sets it down beside you and crosses his arms, watching intently.

You slip on a pair of gloves and examine the cut on Jisung's head. It's not too deep, but the blood has definitely freaked him out. "The cut's less than the width of my thumb," you tell Chan without looking up. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Chan, ever the worried mom of the group, frowns. "But there's so much blood."

You glance up at him, offering a small smile. "Head injuries bleed a lot. Trust me, this isn't anything serious." You hold a thick piece of gauze against Jisung's head to stem the bleeding, making sure to apply just the right amount of pressure.

Jisung groans, squirming under your hand. "How am I supposed to wash my hair with a fucking head wound?"

"You're not," you say simply. "Avoid washing it for a few days. No shampoo near the cut. It'll hurt like hell. Wear a beanie or something."

Jisung gives a long, dramatic sigh, but he nods in agreement. "I guess I can pull off the beanie look."

From the kitchen, you hear hushed whispers. The rest of the Alpha Phi boys, Hyunjin, Minho, Jeongin, Changbin and Felix, are gathered there, hovering over the island, whispering amongst themselves.

"Just fucking talk to her," you hear Hyunjin whisper, though his attempt at being quiet isn't very successful.

"Yeah, bro," Changbin chimes in. "Ask her how her coursework is going or something. She's always talking about school, right?"

There's a low mumble, presumably from Felix, and then Minho's sharp voice cuts through the whispers.

"Will you stop being a freckly little bitch, Felix?! So what, she has boobs? Doesn't make her a fucking alien."

You stifle a laugh, pretending you haven't heard a word. It's no secret that Felix has had a crush on you for as long as you've known him. Every time you come over to patch someone up, he gets all quiet and blushy, his freckles standing out even more against his skin.

"Okay, Ji," you say, shifting your focus back to the task at hand. "Let's make sure you're not concussed."

You pull out your phone and shine a flashlight into his eyes, checking his pupillary response. "Any double vision? Feeling disoriented?"

He shakes his head, then winces. "Nah, nothing like that."

You ask him a series of questions, running through the standard concussion protocol. Jisung answers each one with his usual brand of sarcasm, but he's sharp, and you're pretty sure he's in the clear.

"Alright, you're good," you say, packing up the first aid kit. "No concussion, but take it easy for the next day or two. If you feel any weird symptoms, you better call me."

He nods, slouching back on the couch. "Thanks. You're a fucking lifesaver."

You stand up, stretching your legs, and glance over toward the kitchen where Felix is still standing awkwardly, clearly trying to work up the courage to say something. You offer him a smile, but he quickly averts his gaze, pretending to be deeply interested in the conversation between Hyunjin and Minho.

Before you can call him out on it, Jisung pipes up again. "Y/N, seriously though, how the fuck am I gonna survive not washing my hair? I can't go three days without washing it. My scalp will hate me."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You'll survive. Just invest in some dry shampoo, and you'll be fine. Plus, you'll be wearing beanies, remember? No one will even notice."

Jisung grumbles something under his breath, clearly not satisfied with your answer, but you don't miss the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You let out a deep sigh, standing up from your spot beside Jisung and stretching your stiff limbs. The boys continue their quiet conversation in the kitchen, and you catch bits of it while you clean up the leftover gauze and medical supplies. You're packing up the first aid kit when Chan strides back into the living room, a serious look plastered on his face.

"Hey, you checked the weather yet?" he asks, pulling out his phone and waving it in the air as if the mere sight of it will clue you into what's happening.

"Nope, too busy saving Jisung's life," you reply with a smirk, casting a glance at your friend who's dramatically flopped across the couch, still nursing the back of his head.

Chan rolls his eyes, not in the mood for jokes. "Well, you might wanna brace yourself 'cause they just issued a weather alert for an incoming blizzard."

You pause for a moment, your brain catching up with the weight of his words. "A blizzard? Like snow, snow?"

"Yeah, no shit, snow," Chan huffs. "They're saying it's going to hit hard, and we'll be snowed in for at least four days."

You blink at him, processing his words before the reality of it sinks in. "You're telling me I'm snowed in here? For four days?"

"Looks like it," he says with a shrug. "And it's already picking up, so I'd say it's a safe bet you're not going anywhere anytime soon."

You groan loudly, throwing your hands up in the air. "What the fuck am I going to do about clothes? I didn't exactly pack for a four-day fucking stay!"

Chan raises an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "You're seriously asking me that? You literally have two drawers full of your fucking clothes in my room that didn't fit into your dorm when you moved in."

Your arms drop to your sides as the realization hits you. "Oh... yeah. I do, don't I?"

Chan nods, crossing his arms in satisfaction. "Not to mention the fact that you also have a whole-ass bag of makeup here for whenever you crash after parties."

You roll your eyes. "Okay, but you don't have a decent mirror! Your mirror's disgusting. It's covered in some kind of bodily fluid that I do not want to identify."

"Hey, fuck off!" Chan protests, a hand flying to his chest in mock offence. "That mirror's seen some shit."

"Exactly!" you exclaim, your nose wrinkling in disgust.

From the kitchen, you hear snickers as Changbin and Jeongin exchange a glance. They nudge Felix, who's still standing awkwardly at the edge of the group, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like he's debating whether or not to join in the conversation. You catch the way they nudge him, and the murmur of voices from the kitchen reaches your ears.

"Tell her she can use your mirror," Jeongin whispers, elbowing Felix in the ribs.

Minho, leaning casually against the fridge, rolls his eyes at the whole situation. "Jesus Christ, just get a fucking grip and talk to her," he mutters before shoving Felix roughly toward the living room.

Felix stumbles forward, his face a bit flushed from the push, but he catches himself and straightens up. "Uh, Y/N," he says, trying to play it cool, "you can use my mirror. It's definitely clean."

There's a pause as you turn to face Felix, surprised but pleasantly amused by his offer. "Well, at least one of you has decent hygiene," you say, giving him a playful grin.

Felix's face lights up with a wide smile, his freckles standing out against his skin as he glances back toward the kitchen. The guys are all watching him with varying degrees of anticipation. Hyunjin is giving him two enthusiastic thumbs up, while Changbin is nodding like a proud parent.

But it's Minho, of course, who takes things too far. He catches Felix's eye, forms a V with his fingers in front of his face, and flicks his tongue between them, grinning like a devil.

Felix's eyes widen, and without missing a beat, he slams the door between the living room and the kitchen before you can turn around and see what's going on.

You laugh, completely oblivious to Minho's antics, and Felix lets out a relieved breath, his ears turning a little pink. "You okay, Lix? You look like you're gonna pass out," you tease.

"I'm good," he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. "Just, you know, cold."

"Sure," you chuckle, glancing toward the door he just slammed shut. "Anyway, thanks for the mirror offer. I might take you up on that."

Felix gives a small nod, his nerves quickly melting away now that he's actually talking to you. "Yeah, anytime. Would you like a blanket? You look cold"

You smile. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."

Felix nods and quickly disappears toward the hallway, while you head into the kitchen to make yourself some tea. As you fill the kettle, you hear the low murmur of voices behind you. Minho is standing by the counter, smirking in your direction.

"Y/N, my darling," Minho starts, his tone dripping with mischief, "I told Felix that he needs to take you to his room and just go primal, you know? Eat you like a man starved. Just—"

Minho makes a wildly inappropriate gesture with his hands, mimicking a ravenous eating motion that has you snorting in spite of yourself. You shake your head, turning to face him fully.

"You're fucking ridiculous, Minho."

"You're welcome," he says, flashing you a toothy grin.

"You certainly have a way with words," you deadpan, turning back to pour hot water into your mug.

Minho's grin widens. "Thank you very much. I do try."

Before you can respond, Felix returns with a blanket, stepping into the kitchen just as Minho's eyes flick back to you. "You know, this horribly traumatizing weather is being made much better by the underboob from that crop top, Y/N," Minho announces with a wink.

Felix smacks him upside the head. "Dude, seriously?"

Minho yelps, rubbing the back of his head but looking entirely unrepentant. "I'm serious! Look!" He gestures toward you dramatically. "So much underboob!"

You roll your eyes, but you can't help laughing. "Minho, you should have been a poet."

He smirks. "I can't do that to the world. I'm already too talented."

Felix hands you the blanket, his cheeks tinged pink as he avoids Minho's gaze. "Here. Sorry about Minho."

You take the blanket gratefully, wrapping it around your shoulders. "Don't worry about it, Lix. I'm used to it by now."

You sip your tea, savouring the warmth as it spreads through your chest, but the moment of peace is short-lived. Chan bursts into the kitchen, tossing a hoodie at your head with no warning.

"Cover up before Minho busts in his pants," he says, deadpan.

The hoodie smacks you right in the face, causing you to drop your mug, which shatters against the kitchen floor. You stare at the broken pieces in disbelief before you huff, crouching down to pick up the shards of ceramic. "That's not very feminist of you, Chan. I'm at fault for Minho being a pervert?"

Jeongin, who had been standing quietly by the door, perks up. "Wow, Chan. Is that how it is in this frat house now?"

Chan throws his hands up in exasperation. "Well, excuse me for trying to help."

Minho, meanwhile, is watching the whole exchange with a lazy grin. "Honestly, I'd hit on Y/N even if she was wearing a fucking habit."

You roll your eyes, muttering under your breath as you gather the broken pieces of your mug. "Of course you would."

Chan watches you for a moment, his brow furrowing in concern. "Are you seriously picking up shards of a mug with your bare hands? You're a paramedic student, for fuck's sake. You should know better."

You shoot him an exasperated look. "Do you want me to stop patching you and your pack of stupid hyenas up? Because if I don't pick it up, I know I'll be pulling pieces out of one of their feet. Probably Minho's."

Minho's voice cuts through the chaos of the kitchen, clearly not bothered by the fact that you're on your hands and knees picking up broken shards of ceramic. "You know, I just mopped those fucking floors earlier. And now there's tea all over them. Burn the witch, I say!" He points dramatically at you like you've just committed a grave sin.

You pause for a second, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. "Fuck off, Minho," you mutter, standing up with a handful of shards and tossing them into the trash.

Chan steps forward, holding out a mop in your direction with a smirk plastered on his face. "Here. You broke the mug, might as well clean it up."

You look at the mop, then back at Chan, crossing your arms defiantly. "I think the fuck not. You're not about to reinforce some gender stereotype where women clean up messes that are men's fault. You threw the hoodie. You started the chain of causation. Therefore, it's your mess."

Chan blinks, his mouth opening as if he's about to argue, but then he shuts it again, looking between you and the mop. "You're really pulling that card?"

"Damn right, I am," you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. "Now get to mopping before I call your mother."

Chan freezes, eyes wide as if you just threatened to expose his deepest, darkest secret. He glances toward Minho and Felix for backup, but both of them shrug. Minho's shit-eating grin returns as he leans against the counter.

"Best get to mopping, mate," Minho says with a smug chuckle. "You really wanna go up against her when she's got Jess on speed dial?"

Chan's shoulders sag in defeat. "You wouldn't."

You pull out your phone, scrolling to the contact labelled Jess, and hold it up for him to see. "Oh, but I would. And I'm supposed to call her at some point this week anyway. She wants to catch up. So, I could just tell her right now how her sweet baby boy is being a little bitch and trying to make me clean up his mess."

"You're fucking evil," Chan mutters under his breath, but you can tell he's losing this fight by the way his hand tightens around the mop handle.

"No," you say, a grin tugging at your lips, "you're just mad because you know she'll give you a beatdown."

Chan narrows his eyes at you, clearly debating whether to call your bluff. "Go ahead. Call her. Because I am not fucking mopping this floor."

You shrug, dialling Jess's number and hopping up onto the counter, swinging your legs playfully. "Okay, sure. I'll call her. Watch me."

As the phone rings, Chan's eyes widen, and he curses under his breath, but he doesn't move to take the mop just yet. The others in the kitchen are watching the standoff like it's some kind of high-stakes poker game. Felix looks a bit nervous, while Minho's grin is spreading wider, enjoying every second of the showdown.

Finally, the call connects, and you hear Jess's familiar, warm voice on the other end. "Y/N! Sweetheart! Oh, it's so good to hear from you! I've been meaning to call you this week. How are you, love?"

You grin, throwing a playful glance at Chan, who has frozen in place, still holding the mop but clearly debating his next move. Minho's shit-eating grin grows wider, watching the scene unfold like his favourite TV show. "Hi, Jess! I missed you too. Yeah, I'm doing great! Just calling to catch up and, well, talk about Chan."

At the mention of his name, Chan's eyes widen. He takes one look at the mop, then at you, and curses under his breath. He drops the mop to the floor with a loud slap and starts mopping furiously. The sound of the mop swishing back and forth fills the room, along with the snickers of the rest of the boys who are watching Chan's dignity slowly wither away.

"Fuck you," Chan mutters, glaring up at you.

You stick your tongue out at him in response, still smiling sweetly as you talk into the phone. "Yeah, Jess, I've been a little worried about him lately"

Chan freezes again, his back stiffening as he pauses mid-mop. "Y/N," he warns, his voice dangerously low.

"Yeah, so," you continue, ignoring Chan's murderous glare, "he's been saying he misses home a lot recently. You know, really homesick. But that's not the only thing. There's also been... uhm... well, some bed-wetting incidents."

Chan's eyes go so wide you're worried they might actually fall out of the sockets. He drops the mop, standing upright in shock. "What the actual fuck are you saying right now?!"

You shoot him a smug look, holding up a finger to silence him. "Yeah, Jess, it's true. I've been worried because it's been happening more frequently, and, well, I think it might be a medical issue. I mean, the bed is soaked. Every time. Like, drenched. It's honestly concerning."

From behind you, Felix chokes on his tea, coughing loudly as he desperately tries to contain his laughter. Jeongin, who's been leaning casually against the counter, has his hands over his mouth, shaking with silent laughter. Hyunjin has literally fallen to the floor, clutching his stomach as he wheezes.

Chan is staring at you, absolutely flabbergasted. "You're fucking lying. Oh my god, what the fuck?!"

You smirk, enjoying every second of this. "Jess, I'm really worried it might be his bladder, you know? I mean, there's so much, and it just keeps happening. Minho and I had to take him shopping for adult diapers the other day, didn't we, Minho?"

Minho, ever the drama king, doesn't miss a beat. He throws his hands up in exaggerated agreement. "Oh yeah, we sure did. Got him a whole box of those super absorbent ones! And don't even get me started on the baby powder. Had to buy a shit-ton of it to prevent any chafing. You know how it is."

"You both are dead!" Chan hisses, his face a bright shade of crimson. He's practically foaming at the mouth now, but he keeps mopping, knowing that if he stops, you'll only keep this going.

There's a brief silence on the other end of the line as Jess processes everything you've just said. You can practically hear the cogs turning in her head. "Oh... oh dear," she finally says, her voice tinged with concern. "That does sound serious. I'll have to talk to him about it. Poor Channie. He must be so embarrassed."

"Y/N!" Chan hisses, storming over to you, looking like he's two seconds away from strangling you.

You hold up the phone, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Don't tell Chan I told you, okay? He's really sensitive about it. I just thought, you know, as his mom, you should know what's going on."

Jess sighs on the other end. "Of course, sweetheart. I won't say a word. Thank you for looking out for him, Y/N. You're such a good friend."

"Anytime, Jess," you say sweetly, shooting Chan a wink. "I'll talk to you soon!"

You hang up the call before Chan can grab the phone out of your hand. As soon as you do, the kitchen erupts into chaos. Felix is on the floor now, joining Hyunjin in hysterics. Jeongin is gasping for air, clutching his sides, while Changbin is bent over the counter, wheezing with laughter. Even Seungmin, who's usually the calm and collected one, has a hand over his mouth, shaking his head in disbelief.

Chan, however, is not laughing. He glares at you, his jaw clenched so tight you're surprised his teeth haven't shattered. "You... fucking... bitch."

You hop down from the counter, a wide grin plastered on your face. "Look, Captain Pissy Pants," you start, placing a hand on your hip, "if you had just mopped the floor like I asked without trying to pull some macho bullshit, your mom wouldn't think you piss the bed and wear adult diapers. But noooo, you had to go and be difficult."

Chan lets out a frustrated growl, tossing the mop aside. "You're dead. You're fucking dead. Do you realize what you've done? My mom is going to be on my ass about this for weeks!"

You shrug nonchalantly, enjoying the sight of him unravelling. "Well, maybe next time you'll think twice before throwing a hoodie at my head and breaking my mug."

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. "You didn't have to fucking call her, though! Jesus Christ, what am I supposed to tell her now?"

Minho chimes in with a smirk. "Tell her the truth. You piss the bed. Simple as that."

Chan shoots him a glare so deadly it could probably kill a lesser man. "Shut the fuck up, Minho."

Minho holds his hands up in surrender, but the grin never leaves his face. "Just saying, man. The evidence is stacking up against you."

The moment Chan starts launching into an all out rant, you just stand there, entirely unbothered, sipping the fresh cup of tea that Felix had quietly handed you. His hands were shaking a little when he gave it to you, but you'd offered him a warm smile as thanks, and now he's leaning against the counter, sneaking glances at you every few seconds. You know he's waiting for you to react to Chan, but you're in no rush.

Chan, on the other hand, is still losing his mind. He's pacing back and forth, hair dishevelled, gesturing wildly as he rants about what an asshole you are for calling his mom and how she's going to nag him for the rest of his life now.

"Do you even understand what you've fucking done? You've literally ruined me! She's gonna fucking talk about diapers at every family dinner now! I'll never hear the end of this shit!"

You take a long, slow sip of your tea, savouring the warmth that spreads through your chest while Chan continues his tirade.

"You think this is funny, don't you?!" he snaps, pointing an accusatory finger at you. "You're just sitting there with your smug little grin like you didn't just call my mom and tell her I piss the bed! Do you have any fucking idea what kind of trauma you've unleashed on me?"

"Chan," you say, setting your tea down and giving him a pointed look, "I didn't say you piss the bed. I said you had an issue. That's not the same thing."

"Bullshit!" he yells, throwing his hands up. "My mom's gonna think I'm wearing fucking diapers at night now! She'll probably mail me some with cute little ducks on them or some shit. Jesus fucking Christ!"

You raise an eyebrow, remaining entirely composed. "Honestly, if you keep yelling, your bladder control might become a real issue."

"I'm not fucking kidding," he growls, taking a step closer, but before he can continue, you suddenly burst into tears.

It's so sudden, so out of nowhere, that it stops Chan dead in his tracks. His eyes widen, and the room falls into an awkward silence. All the other boys, who had been silently watching the whole thing, freeze too. You're putting on a dramatic show.

Your hands cover your face as you sob, and your shoulders shake with fake cries. Inside, you're fighting hard not to laugh at how quickly everyone's demeanour has changed.

Chan immediately panics. "Oh fuck, shit, no, don't cry!" He drops the mop and rushes toward you, pulling you into a tight hug. His large hands pat your back awkwardly as he rocks you side to side, clearly unsure of what to do. "Fuck, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to make you upset, please stop crying."

Hyunjin jumps in with his usual dramatic flair, pointing at Chan like he's just committed murder. "Are you proud of yourself, Chan? You made her cry! You fucking monster!"

"I didn't—" Chan stammers, looking around helplessly. "I wasn't trying to- Please stop crying. Fuck, I'm sorry, I'll do anything you want, just stop crying. Please?"

You sniffle dramatically, still fake-sobbing into his chest, and Chan's grip tightens around you. "Please, Y/N, I didn't mean it. I'll do anything."

You pull back slightly, wiping at your face with the back of your hand as if drying tears. "Anything?"

"Yes! Anything!" Chan promises, his face full of concern.

You straighten up, wiping away the nonexistent tears and looking him dead in the eyes. "Mop the fucking floor properly, then. You did a terrible job. Jesus, Chan, did Jessica leave you to be raised by wolves? There's still tea all over the floor! I understand this is a frat house, but have some fucking standards. Are you blind or just incompetent?"

Chan's jaw drops. His brain is clearly trying to catch up to what just happened. "I—What? What the fuck is going on?"

"I'll tell you what the fuck is going on. You need to learn how to mop a fucking floor. Jesus Christ, Chan. Is basic cleanliness too much for you? Just because this is a frat house doesn't mean you should live in a pigsty."

For a moment, Chan just stands there, blinking at you in disbelief, the gears in his brain visibly turning as he tries to process the fact that you were faking your crying the whole time. "You fucking asshole," he finally mutters, his voice low with frustration. "I fucking hate you."

You grin, crossing your arms. "I will tell your mother about the crusty wank socks under your bed, so watch how you speak to me."

Chan's face turns an even deeper shade of red. "I'm going to—"

You raise an eyebrow, cutting him off. "What? What are you gonna do? Can't call my parents. Safe haven baby right here, remember? Who you gonna call?"

From the couch in the living room, Jisung, who's been watching the entire interaction with wide eyes, suddenly shouts, "Ghostbusters!"

You whip around to glare at him, your hands on your hips. "Jisung, you bitch, I don't even know if my parents are dead! What a rude assumption to make!"

Jisung, never one to back down, sits up with a shrug. "But the Ghostbusters could, like, look for the ghosts of your parents, you know? They could track them down or something."

Minho, leaning casually against the counter, smirks and shakes his head. "How are they gonna do that, dumbass? Y/N doesn't even know who her parents are. It's not like she has a fucking address to give them."

Jisung pauses, clearly considering this, then shrugs again. "I mean, they're Ghostbusters. They could just, like, look. Isn't that their whole thing? Finding ghosts?"

Hyunjin, who's been watching all this from the sidelines, finally speaks up. "I think the real problem here is that Chan can't mop a fucking floor. I mean, how are you a frat leader and can't even clean up after yourself? I'm starting to question your leadership skills, Captain."

"I'm a fucking football captain, not a janitor!" Chan barks back, still flustered from the earlier events.

"Clearly," you mutter, your gaze still locked on the mess on the floor.

The wind howls outside, rattling the windows of the Alpha Phi frat house as the blizzard continues to gain strength. Snow swirls in furious gusts, piling up against the windowsills and creating an almost surreal, wintry landscape.

You stare out the window, eyes narrowed as the snow piles up higher and higher, the reality of the situation sinking in. You're trapped. With them. For four whole days.

"Fuck me," you mutter under your breath, crossing your arms as you turn away from the window. "I can't believe I'm stuck with you lot for four days. This is some next-level fucking bullshit."

"Y/N, your eyeliner is fucking smudged," Hyunjin points out, breaking you out of your thoughts. His lips curl into a mischievous grin, clearly amused by your earlier fake crying stunt. "All that fake crying messed you up. Looks like you had a meltdown."

You groan, immediately raising a hand to your eye to swipe at the smudged makeup. "Great. Just what I need. Fucking eyeliner all over my face now."

Hyunjin chuckles, leaning back against the counter, watching you struggle to fix the mess. "Don't worry, you still look hot. Maybe even hotter with the messy eyeliner. Adds to the 'just survived a traumatic event' look."

You shoot him a look, not in the mood to play along with his teasing. "I'm sure that's exactly the aesthetic I was going for. Fucking great."

He laughs again, shrugging like he doesn't have a care in the world. "I'm just saying, it works for you."

Rolling your eyes, you glance over at Felix, who's standing near the doorway with his hands shoved into his pockets, looking like he's been waiting for a moment to jump in. You remember his earlier offer and decide to take him up on it.

"Felix," you call, catching his attention, "can I use your mirror now if that's still alright? I need to fix my eyeliner, and you offered earlier."

Felix's face brightens at the sound of your voice, his freckles standing out against the pink flush spreading across his cheeks. He nods quickly, pushing off the wall. "Y-yeah, of course. Come on, I'll show you to my room."

You grab the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders and toss it onto the nearest chair before following Felix. As you walk past Hyunjin and the rest of the guys in the kitchen, you catch Minho grinning like a devil, but you don't pay it any mind.

What you don't see, though, is Minho's next move. The moment your back is turned, he starts thrusting into the air like an idiot, mimicking some obscene, exaggerated movements that make the guys lose their shit in laughter.

Felix glances over his shoulder and catches Minho in the act. His eyes narrow into a deadly glare, but he says nothing, just quickens his pace, eager to get you upstairs before you can turn around and witness the chaos.

The stairs creak slightly as you both make your way up to the second floor. The walls are lined with old pictures of previous frat members, random sports memorabilia, and a framed, oversized Alpha Phi logo that looks like it's been signed by every member since the dawn of time.

You can hear the muffled sounds of video games from behind one of the doors, and for a moment, it's almost peaceful. Well, as peaceful as a frat house during a blizzard can get.

Felix stops in front of a door near the end of the hall and opens it, stepping aside to let you in first. "Here it is. Sorry if it's a little messy."

You step into Felix's room and immediately notice the massive gaming setup taking up one corner. Three large monitors glow softly, showing various tabs and games left open, along with a scattered array of controllers, cables, and snacks.

It's clear this is where he spends a lot of his time. The room smells faintly of vanilla, mixed with something warm and inviting like cookies just out of the oven. It's very Felix.

As you take in your surroundings, your eyes land on a bookshelf against the far wall. It's packed full of books, some old, some new, all lined up neatly in a way that surprises you given the clutter everywhere else. You can't help but wander over, trailing your fingers along the spines as you read the titles.

Your hand pauses on one in particular. "The Mortal Instruments?" you ask, glancing back at Felix with raised eyebrows. "You're into these?"

Felix's face lights up as he nods, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. I've been a fan for a while now. The books are way better than the Netflix series though, right?"

You laugh, nodding in agreement as you turn back to the shelf. "Oh my god, yes! The series was okay if you've never read the books, but it just didn't hit the same. They cut out so much, and the characters were off."

Felix steps closer, his excitement palpable. "That's what I've been telling Hyunjin for ages! But he's all like, 'Nooo, Magnus and Alec are hotter on screen than in the books.'" He mimics Hyunjin's whiny tone perfectly, and you laugh again, shaking your head.

"Don't get me wrong, Magnus and Alec are great on screen," you say, "but the books just hit differently. I'm more of a Jace girl myself."

Felix's eyes widen slightly, his smile growing even bigger. "Jace? Really?"

You shrug, turning to face him fully. "Yeah, I like the complicated, brooding types who secretly have a heart of gold. Plus, he's kind of a dumbass sometimes, and I find that endearing."

Felix chuckles softly, nodding. "Yeah, I can see that."

Your fingers trail along the other books on the shelf, stopping on a small, well-worn copy of Romeo and Juliet. You pull it out, glancing at the cover before looking back at Felix. "Romeo and Juliet? A classic."

Felix rubs the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. "Yeah, I know it's kind of cliche, but I've always liked it. It's tragic, but in a way that makes you think about love and sacrifice."

You smile, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. "I visited Verona with Chan last summer, you know. We went to Juliet's wall."

Felix's eyes light up with curiosity. "Really? How was it?"

You close the book, your fingers lingering on the worn cover. "Honestly, it wasn't as romantic as it sounds when you're there with your best friend who once had to help you when you bled through your trousers at school."

Felix lets out a surprised laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins at you. "Wow, okay, yeah, I can see how that would kill the mood."

You smirk, placing the book back on the shelf. "But the wall itself was incredible. People from all over the world write letters to Juliet and leave them there, asking for advice or just pouring their hearts out. There's even a group of people who respond to the letters."

Felix's brows furrow in interest. "Wait, seriously? That's amazing."

"Yeah," you nod, turning to face him again. "If this paramedic stuff doesn't work out, I might just move to Verona and join the group that writes back. Imagine that. People turning to one of the most tragic romantic figures in history for help because her love was that powerful. It's kind of poetic, don't you think?"

Felix stares at you for a moment, his expression softening. There's something about the way you speak, so genuine, so full of passion, that makes his heart do a little flip in his chest. He nods slowly, almost mesmerized by you. "Yeah, it is. Really poetic."

You catch the look in his eyes, and for a brief moment, something flickers between you. The air feels a little heavier, charged with something unspoken but undeniable.

Before the moment can stretch too long, you clear your throat and break eye contact, glancing toward the small mirror on his dresser. "Right, I should probably fix my eyeliner before I look like I just escaped from an emo band's comeback tour."

Felix laughs softly, stepping back to give you space. "Yeah, uh, the mirror's all yours. Sorry, I kind of got distracted."

You rummage through your skirt pocket and pull out black liquid eyeliner, the small pen-like tool ready to fix the mess your face has become. You settle in front of Felix's mirror, leaning closer to get a good angle, balancing your weight on one foot while raising your arm to fix the smudged lines around your eyes. You work carefully, adjusting the angle of the eyeliner tip, your reflection staring back at you with determined focus.

Felix stands just behind you, leaning awkwardly against the wall with his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets. His eyes, though, aren't on your face or the delicate process of you fixing your makeup. They're stuck somewhere lower.

Your skirt has ridden up slightly, just a few inches too high from where it was earlier. The edge of your green and black tartan mini skirt has crept up your thighs, high enough that the lacy trim of your underwear is just barely visible. You're completely oblivious to it, of course, too focused on getting your eyeliner back in check, but Felix? He's frozen in place, trying not to stare, failing miserably.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, barely audible. His face heats up, turning a shade of red that could rival a tomato, but he can't tear his eyes away.

The thing is, you've always had this effect on him. Ever since you started coming over to the Alpha Phi frat house to patch up the guys after their dumbass stunts, Felix found himself hopelessly drawn to you. It wasn't just the way you looked. Though he'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed.

It was the way you carried yourself, always upbeat, always kind. You weren't afraid to call them out on their bullshit, especially Chan, and that made Felix respect you even more. But this is something different entirely. He knows he shouldn't be looking. He knows it's wrong. But he's stuck.

You continue humming to yourself, the soft tune filling the silence in the room as you carefully reapply your eyeliner. The sound is gentle, almost soothing, and Felix tries to focus on it instead of the distracting sight of your skirt. You don't seem to notice how intensely he's watching you, too caught up in your task, your soft voice barely above a whisper.

"Stars shining bright above you," you murmur, the words of the song slipping from your lips effortlessly. "Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you.'"

Felix blinks, finally snapping out of his trance, his curiosity piqued by the song. He tilts his head slightly, listening more closely. "What's that song?" he asks, his voice cutting through your humming.

You gasp, turning around so quickly that the eyeliner pen almost flies out of your hand. "You've never heard Dream a Little Dream of Me?" you exclaim, eyes wide in disbelief.

Felix shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. "I mean, I've probably heard it somewhere before, but I don't really recognize it. What's it from?"

You shake your head, a playful grin spreading across your face. "Felix, you sweet summer child," you say, placing the eyeliner down for a second to give him your full attention. "It's a classic. The kind of song you hear in old movies or when you're sitting in a cosy café with soft jazz playing in the background. It's dreamy, romantic, you know, that old-timey love song vibe."

Felix chuckles nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Well, I guess I've been missing out."

You lean back against the dresser, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him. "Missing out? You're a Culinary Arts major. You probably hear shit like this all the time in those fancy restaurants. You just don't know it because you're too focused on making the best dessert ever."

Felix laughs softly, his gaze flickering to the floor for a moment. "You might be right. I guess I should pay more attention."

"Damn right, you should," you tease, turning back to the mirror to finish up your eyeliner. You draw the final line, flicking the wing perfectly at the corner of your eye. "There. All fixed."

Felix's eyes dart to your reflection in the mirror, and for a brief second, he can't help but notice just how stunning you look—even with your messy hair held together by three pens. The underboob peeking out from your cropped black turtleneck and your thigh-high boots only add to the image that's been stuck in his head all night. He quickly averts his gaze again, trying to keep his cool.

"So, Dream a Little Dream of Me, huh?" he says, trying to steer the conversation away from his racing thoughts. "Is that one of your favourite songs?"

You nod, a smile playing on your lips as you cap the eyeliner and slip it back into your skirt pocket. "Yeah, it's up there. It's one of those songs that just makes you feel safe, you know? Like everything's gonna be alright, even when the world's falling apart."

"Yeah," he murmurs, nodding slowly. "I get that."

You glance at him through the mirror, catching the way his gaze softens as he looks at you. There's a moment of silence that stretches between you, comfortable but charged with something unspoken.

You break the silence first, turning to face him with a grin. "You know, Felix, I could teach you some classic songs. Expand your musical horizons a bit."

Felix chuckles, his face lighting up. "I'd like that. But only if you promise to teach me while I'm baking something. We can make it a whole 'baking with a soundtrack' kind of thing."

You laugh, the sound bright and genuine. "Deal. I'll make sure we're listening to the best oldies while you whip up something delicious."

There's a pause, and Felix's eyes meet yours again, this time with a bit more confidence. "You're really good at this, you know?"

"At what? Fixing my eyeliner?" you joke, raising an eyebrow.

Felix shakes his head, smiling. "No, I mean at being so you."

You blink, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. "So me?"

"Yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck again, that nervous energy creeping back into his movements. "I mean, you're always so... you. Confident, funny, smart... I don't know how you do it."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and for a moment, you're not sure how to respond. Felix, the quiet, sweet, freckle-faced guy who's always been a little too shy around you, is suddenly opening up in a way you didn't expect.

"Well, thanks, Lix," you say softly, offering him a warm smile. "But you're not so bad yourself. You've got this... quiet charm about you, you know? You don't need to be loud or obnoxious to get people's attention."

Felix's cheeks flush again, and he looks down at the floor, smiling to himself. "I guess."

You shake your head, stepping closer to him and nudging him lightly with your elbow. "Seriously. You've got a lot going for you. And don't let these idiots downstairs tell you otherwise."

Felix looks up at you, his eyes bright and filled with something you can't quite place. There's a beat of silence, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away, leaving just the two of you in this small room, the snowstorm outside a distant memory.

But then, as if on cue, the door to Felix's room bursts open, and in storms Chan, looking more frazzled than usual. "Y/N, we need you. Again."

You groan, throwing your head back in exasperation. "What now? Did Minho finally break something?"

Chan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leans against the doorframe. "Well, Minho kind of broke something," he says, dragging out the last two words.

You raise an eyebrow. "Kind of?"

"Yeah," Chan grumbles. "He poked at Jisung's head so now it's bleeding. Again."

You let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Are you fucking serious? Is Jisung just cursed to have a cracked skull for the rest of his life?"

Felix chuckles nervously from his spot near the bed, and Chan looks even more exasperated as he pushes off the doorframe. "Come on. I don't know how bad it is this time, but he's freaking out again, and Minho's not exactly helping."

"I swear to god, if he's haemorrhaging I will kill myself," you mutter as you make your way to the door.

The moment you're out of the room, Felix lets out a long breath he didn't even realize he was holding. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to shake off whatever tension had built up in the room while you were there.

But Chan, perceptive as ever, catches on almost immediately. As soon as you're out of earshot, he turns back to Felix with a knowing smirk. "Why are you standing so stiffly, bro? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Felix's eyes widen, and he shifts awkwardly, clearly trying to play it cool. "W-What do you mean? I'm fine."

"Bullshit," Chan says, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at his friend. "You've been acting weird ever since Y/N got here. I know you have a massive crush on her. You've had one for ages, man."

Felix's face turns bright red, and he stumbles over his words, trying to deny it. "I—no—I mean—okay, maybe, but—"

Before he can finish, the words just tumble out of his mouth in a rush. "I saw her underwear."

There's a brief pause as Chan processes what Felix just said. Then, as if on cue, a shit-eating grin spreads across Chan's face. "Wait, hold the fuck up. You saw her underwear and now you're blushing like a fucking schoolgirl?"

Felix groans, burying his face in his hands. "It's not like I did it on purpose! Her skirt just... I don't know, it rode up a little, and I wasn't trying to look, but I just—"

"Dude, you've hooked up with girls before," Chan interrupts, still grinning like a madman. "And I've heard what your exes have to say about you. They always go on and on about how you're, like, this dominant, take-charge guy in the bedroom. So what the fuck is different with Y/N?"

Felix sighs, clearly flustered by the conversation. "I don't fucking know, okay? It's just... different with her. I can't explain it."

Chan shakes his head, still chuckling under his breath. "Bro, you need to channel some of that dominant energy into approaching her, for fuck's sake. Stop overthinking every word and just act. You're always second-guessing yourself around her, and it's painful to watch."

Felix rubs the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, I know..."

"Look, she's not gonna bite your head off, okay?" Chan says, clapping a hand on Felix's shoulder. "You just need to be yourself. She already likes you, man. She keeps coming around, doesn't she? Just stop being such a pussy and talk to her like you would anyone else."

Felix frowns, clearly unsure. "I don't want to fuck things up."

Chan rolls his eyes. "You're not gonna fuck things up. Just relax, be yourself, and stop being a fucking weirdo about it."

Felix nods, though he still looks a bit uncertain. "Yeah, okay. Maybe I'll try."

"Good," Chan says, giving him a small shove toward the door. "Though now's probably not the time, considering she's dealing with Minho's dumbass again. But later. I'm holding you to this."

Felix lets out a nervous laugh but nods in agreement. "Yeah. Later."

You kneel next to Jisung on the couch, the familiar ritual of pulling on latex gloves calming you slightly as you grab gauze and bandages from your well-worn first aid kit. Jisung leans back, pressing another towel to the back of his head, his lips forming a half-pout, half-grimace as he watches you move with practised precision.

"Alright, Sungie," you sigh, snapping the gloves in place with a resigned shake of your head. "What the fuck happened this time?"

Jisung winces dramatically, slumping further into the cushions, trying to gain some semblance of sympathy. "It's Minho's fault. I swear. He just... poked it."

You flick your gaze to where Minho stands, arms crossed and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. You're not surprised. It's always Minho or Hyunjin getting into shit, dragging Jisung along for the ride.

You narrow your eyes at him. "Minho, what the fuck were you thinking? He's already got a bandage on his head. You're supposed to leave it alone."

Minho shrugs like it's no big deal, giving you his signature grin. "I was just checking it! You know, like a concerned friend. I gave it a little poke to see if it was healing. Turns out it wasn't."

You press the gauze against the back of Jisung's head with enough force to make him hiss in discomfort. "Minho, you're not a doctor. Stop poking shit. I've already patched him up once today."

Jisung groans, leaning into your touch as if he's two seconds from making a dramatic plea for mercy. "I'm not gonna make it, Y/N. I can feel the life draining out of me."

You stifle a laugh, shaking your head. "You're not dying, Sungie. Stop being a baby."

He peeks at you through squinted eyes. "Where's Felix and Chan? I thought they were supposed to be here. I feel like I'm missing out on their comforting presence."

You roll your eyes. "They're probably still in Felix's room, avoiding this fucking circus." You finish taping up the new bandage, adjusting it slightly to make sure it's secure. "Not that I blame them."

As you finish, you grab your small flashlight from the first aid kit and click it on, leaning forward to shine it in Jisung's eyes. "Hold still. Just making sure you don't have a concussion."

He freezes immediately. "Wait, why? Do you think there's bleeding in my brain?!"

You chuckle softly. "Relax, Sungie. If you had a brain bleed, you wouldn't be sitting here whining. I'm just making sure you don't have a concussion."

He groans dramatically. "That's not exactly comforting, Y/N."

You ignore him, finishing your check. "You're fine. Just stay away from Minho and you'll live."

Without warning, Jisung wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "You're a lifesaver, Y/N. What would we do without you?"

You laugh, patting him on the back. "You'd probably be in the hospital more often."

Minho watches from the side, a dramatic pout forming on his lips. "Where's my hug, Y/N? I'm the one who made this exciting for you."

You shoot him a look, pulling away from Jisung and settling back on the couch. "I don't hug idiots who reopen their friend's head wounds. It's a moral stance of mine."

Minho smirks, clearly unbothered. "That's just cold, Y/N. After everything I've done for you."

You stretch your legs out, draping them across Jisung's lap. "Tell you what, Minho. I'll give you a hug if you go and make me a passionfruit martini."

His eyes light up instantly, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Deal. One passionfruit martini coming right up."

As Minho disappears into the kitchen, Jisung shifts under your legs, giving you a curious look. "As soon as that drink touches your lips, you're off duty, right?"

You nod, closing your eyes and leaning back into the couch. "Exactly. Once that martini's in my hand, I'm off the clock. No more first aid for the next twelve hours."

Jisung lets out a loud sigh. "But we're stuck in a blizzard. You know someone's going to do something dumb."

You crack one eye open, shooting him a pointed look. "Then my advice? All of you sit down and do not move for twelve hours."

He snorts, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "I'll try, but no promises."

A few minutes later, Minho returns, carefully balancing a martini glass filled with a vibrant orange liquid. He hands it to you with a smug grin, clearly proud of his creation. "Your passionfruit martini, m'lady."

You take a sip, the sweet and tart flavour mixing perfectly on your tongue. "Not bad, Minho. Maybe you're not entirely useless after all."

He grins, plopping down beside you on the couch. "So, cuddle time now?"

You laugh, shaking your head as you stand up, drink still in hand. "Sorry, Minho. No cuddle time. I'm heading back upstairs to talk with Felix about books."

Minho raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Felix, huh? What's going on with you two up there?"

You roll your eyes, walking toward the stairs. "Fuck off, Minho."

His laughter follows you as you climb the stairs, the sound echoing in the quiet house. You know he's not going to let it go, but right now, you couldn't care less. You've been looking forward to talking to Felix again. He's always so thoughtful, and you find his company calming in a way that none of the other guys manage.

Before heading to Felix's room, you make a quick detour to Chan's. Pushing open the door, you walk over to the drawers that you've basically claimed as your own. It started when Chan insisted you leave some clothes at the house to avoid carrying around a huge bag every time you came over to patch someone up. Now, the drawers are filled with your clothes. Enough for several days if you ever got snowed in.

You rummage through the pile of clothes until you find a white oversized cable-knit sweater. It's soft and cozy, hanging just above your knees when you pull it on. You grab a pair of black yoga shorts and slip them on underneath, completing the look with fluffy white socks.

Satisfied, you grab your martini from the dresser and head to Felix's room.

When you reach his door, you knock lightly before pushing it open. Inside, Felix is pacing back and forth, looking lost in thought. Chan is lounging on Felix's bed, his phone in hand as he scrolls through something.

"Am I interrupting something?" you ask, stepping inside and closing the door behind you.

Felix stops pacing immediately, his face lighting up with a sheepish smile. "No, no. You're not interrupting."

Chan looks up from his phone, grinning lazily. "Oh hey. Were your ears burning?"

You raise an eyebrow, sipping your martini. "No. Should they have been?"

Felix shoots Chan a warning glare, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Ignore him. He doesn't know what he's talking about." He then turns to Chan, his voice slightly firmer, "Weren't you just leaving, Chan?"

Chan smirks, pushing himself up from the bed with a stretch. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you two alone" He winks at Felix, clearly enjoying the situation, before sauntering out of the room.

Once the door clicks shut, Felix sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry about him. He's been teasing me all day."

You smile, sitting on the edge of his bed. "It's fine. I'm used to Chan's bullshit. What's got you pacing around like that?"

Felix shrugs, moving to sit next to you, his gaze focused on the floor. "I was just thinking about what we talked about earlier. You know, those classic love stories."

You tilt your head, intrigued. "Yeah? What about them?"

He fiddles with the edge of his shirt, not meeting your eyes. "I don't know. I guess I've been wondering if stuff like that happens in real life. The kind of love that feels epic."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you lean forward slightly, your martini forgotten for a moment. "Yeah, those stories always seem larger than life. But I think they exist in some form. Maybe not exactly like the books, but you know, love can still be intense and beautiful."

Felix looks up at you then, his eyes searching yours. There's a vulnerability in his gaze that you don't see often, and it makes your chest tighten. "Do you think it's something worth fighting for? Even if it's hard?"

Felix's question lingers in the air, heavy with a vulnerability that catches you off guard. His gaze, for once, holds steady on yours, and you can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. It's different from the usual nervous Felix you're used to. This is Felix with purpose, Felix with conviction.

Before you can even think of a response, he gently takes the martini glass out of your hand, placing it carefully on the nightstand. His fingers brush against yours as he sets the glass down, and the sudden contact sends a jolt of something electric up your spine.

"Fuck it," Felix murmurs, more to himself than to you, and suddenly his hands are cupping your face, pulling you toward him. His lips crash against yours, firm and decisive, nothing like the hesitant, unsure Felix you've known for so long.

The kiss is confident, controlled. He's guiding it, taking the lead. Felix's lips press against yours with an intensity that surprises you, his hands sliding from your face to your neck, his fingers curling gently in your hair. The kiss deepens, and you melt into it, your hands finding their way to his chest, gripping the soft fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself in the moment.

There's nothing hesitant about the way he's kissing you now—his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, and you part your lips instinctively, letting him take control. His movements are bold, purposeful, and you can feel the pent-up desire in the way his hands slide down your sides, pulling you closer.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the heat between you building with every second. You're not thinking anymore, just feeling the way Felix's lips move against yours, the taste of him, the warmth of his hands as they roam your body, tugging you closer as if he can't get enough.

The kiss becomes more intense, more heated, as if he's pouring everything he's ever felt into it—every shy glance, every blush, every quiet moment between the two of you. It's all here, in this kiss, and it leaves you breathless.

Just as things are heating up, the door swings open with a loud bang, and the moment is interrupted by a startled, "Oh shit!"

You both pull away, lips still tingling from the kiss, and turn toward the door. Chan is standing there, eyes wide, clearly caught off guard by what he's just walked in on.

"Oh shit," Chan repeats, blinking rapidly as if trying to process what he's seeing.

Behind him, you hear Minho's voice, dripping with his usual teasing tone. "Oh, hello."

Jisung is right behind them, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "Took you long enough, Felix. You're not all blushy anymore, huh?"

Minho steps further into the room, arms crossed, a satisfied smirk on his face. "That's what happens when you get the girl"

Felix leans back slightly, his arm still draped around your waist. He gives them a look that's half-annoyed, half-amused. "Do you guys mind?"

Jisung throws his hands up, still grinning. "Nah, we're just here for the show. About fucking time, by the way."

You glance at Felix, and he looks back at you, both of you sharing a quiet moment of amusement. "Are you guys done gawking, or are you planning on standing there all night?" you ask, crossing your arms but smiling nonetheless.

Minho leans against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow. "Depends. You two gonna make out again, or is that it for tonight?"

Felix rolls his eyes, pulling you closer against his side, his hand resting comfortably on your waist. "Maybe if you leave, we will."

Chan laughs, stepping forward and throwing an arm around Minho's shoulder. "Alright, alright, we'll give you two some privacy. But don't think this is over. We're definitely talking about this later."

Minho gives you both a knowing wink before finally retreating back into the hallway. "Good job, Lix"

As they turn to leave, Jisung lingers for just a second longer, his grin still annoyingly wide. "I'm proud of you, man. I knew you had it in you."

"Get out," Felix groans, though there's a smile playing on his lips.

With one final laugh, Jisung disappears down the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving you and Felix alone once again.

There's a beat of silence, and then Felix lets out a long sigh, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. "They're never gonna let me live this down, are they?"

You chuckle, threading your fingers through his soft hair. "Probably not. But hey, they're just jealous."

Felix lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours, and the playful smile that curves his lips is enough to make your heart race all over again. "You think so?"

You nod, leaning in closer until your noses are almost touching. "Definitely."

Without another word, Felix closes the small distance between you, his lips finding yours once again. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate, but no less intense. His hand slides up your back, pulling you against him, and you can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm.

It's just the two of you now, no teasing friends, no interruptions, just the quiet sound of your breath mingling with his, the soft rustle of the sheets as you shift closer to each other on the bed.

When you finally pull away, breathless but content, Felix rests his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

You smile, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his face. "What took you so long, then?"

He laughs softly, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your lower back. "I don't know. Guess I was scared of messing things up."

You tilt your head, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. "Well, you didn't mess anything up. In fact, I'd say you did pretty damn well."

Felix's grin widens, and for a moment, he looks like the Felix you've always known. Sweet, shy, and just a little bit unsure of himself. But there's something different now, something more confident in the way he holds you, the way his eyes flicker with a newfound certainty.

"I think we should probably lock the door next time," he says, his voice laced with amusement.

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. "Yeah, good idea. I'm not sure I can handle another round of Minho, Chan and Jisung."

Felix chuckles, his hand stroking your hair. "They're never gonna let me forget this, are they?"

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you relax into him. "Nope. But that's what makes them who they are."

There's a comfortable silence between you, the weight of what just happened settling in. It feels right. Like something that's been a long time coming. And as you sit there in the quiet, Felix's arms around you, you can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, those epic love stories aren't so far-fetched after all.

After a few moments, Felix speaks again. "So, what happens now?"

You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze with a smile. "Well, I was thinking we could finish that book discussion."

Felix laughs, shaking his head. "Of course. You and your books."

You grin, leaning in to kiss him softly. "What can I say? I like a good story."

Felix's smile is warm as he pulls you closer. "Well, I think we're writing a pretty good one ourselves."

And with that, the two of you settle back into the comfortable rhythm that has always been there—only now, it feels a little different. A little more certain. A little more yours.

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faithst · 2 years ago

Text

WHEN THEIR S/O WEAR ANOTHER MEMBER’S CLOTHES

pairing zb1 x gn!reader

genre fluff, comedy, some jealousy

notes hiii thank u for liking my works 💕 i hope you enjoy this one !! just an update because i’m busy the next few weeks ❤️

masterlist<3

— zhang hao

guess who’s sweater you’re wearing ?

thats right, hanbin’s sweater !

when hao sees you in the piece of clothing, he thinks nothing of it

cuz he wears it alot too

and he didn’t notice it wasn’t his sweater

like ‘hey, that’s a cool sweater!’

but then he realises that you’re wearing hanbin’s clothes

‘wait a minute… i’ve seen that before..’

has a moment of confusion; whether to be jealous of hanbin or jealous of you 😦

in the end he just doesn’t care that much

makes you both take turns wearing said sweater

“it’s my turn to wear that!”

— sung hanbin

maybe a bit annoyed but he doesn’t show it

he sees you w matthew’s hoodie on and stops in his tracks

‘huh, that’s not mine..’ ‘why does it look familiar though?’

and then he realises

immediately rushes to you and offers another hoodie, his hoodie 🤝

“why though? this hoodie is comfortable.” “it’s not mine, love.”

your mouth forms an o

you immediately take it off and wear his

hanbin is happy now 👍

he might be just a teeny more strict on matthew after the incident tho

“you look better in my hoodie.”

— seok matthew

he’s a bit annoyed

not at you tho <3

“hey babe!” he beams, stopping in his tracks upon seeing you

“why are you wearing gunwook’s shirt?” he furrowed his eyebrows

“i just picked the one that was nearest to me.” you explained

matthew sighed in response “this kid..”

“gunwook, stop placing your clothes everywhere!” he scolds, filling the house with his voice 😤

he then goes to get his own shirt and comes back handing it to you

“wear this, my shirts are better.”

— shen ricky

immediately notices

cuz he takes note of everything you take from him and everything he buys for you 💰

“that’s a comfortable hoodie.” he comments

your quirk an eyebrow before speaking up “yeah, it’s yours.”

ricky pouts, slightly shaking his head

“wait, this isn’t yours? why was it in your closet then?” you ask, pulling over the hoodie over your head

“i forgot to return this to jiwoong.” he responded with a sheepish smile

“it was comfortable though..”

ricky immediately brings out his phone to buy you the same exact hoodie

“which colour do you want?”

— park gunwook

jealous 💯

you were out with gunwook and gyuvin

and it was really chilly outside

as any cliché moment goes, gunwook wanted to wrap his jacket around you

but the thing was, he didn’t have a jacket at the moment

so gyuvin offered his as you weren’t wearing as many layers

gunwook knew it was the only thing they could do at the moment but he couldn’t help but feel bummed

tries to hide his obvious pout

“oh, are you still cold? here, take my sweater.”

literally takes off his sweater and suffers in the cold just so he didn’t have to see gyuvin’s jacket around you anymore

“it’s not cold at all!” he manages to mutter out with trembling lips

— kim taerae

i don’t think he minds

actually, i don’t think he knows

like, he sees you in a new jacket and is like “that’s a nice jacket!”

proceeds to ask where you got it from bcuz he wants one too

“what do you mean this is mine? i don’t own anything like this..”

and then gunwook comes in, asking if both of you had seen his jacket 😦

and then he sees you wearing HIS jacket “that’s oddly similar to my missing jacket..”

taerae looks to you and then back to gunwook, confused

finally puts the pieces together “wait, are you wearing wook’s jacket?”

after explaining why you were wearing it in the first place

taerae offers you his jacket

“do you wanna match jackets?”

— kim gyuvin

he’s acting like it doesn’t bother him but it actually does

you search around his wardrobe to find smth comfortable to wear

and also to surprise him cuz he absolutely LOVES it when you wear his clothes 🤭

little did you know that he had taerae’s hoodie in there too

gyuvin comes in and catches you red-handed

“oh my god, hey! i wasn’t stealing your clothes!”

he just silently stares at you “why are you wearing taerae’s hoodie..?”

you grab a part of the hoodie with a confused look “taerae..? i thought it was yours.. it’s comfy though.”

gyuvin’s eyes widen “wait, i have better hoodies.”

frantically starts throwing out all his hoodies from his closet onto the bed

forces you to change into his hoodie while repeating that he isn’t jealous

“the hoodie is bright yellow.. why would you ever think that it’s mine..”

— kim jiwoong

honestly, i don’t think he minds at all

aslong as you’re comfy ykyk 👍

so that’s how you have ricky’s sweater over you while being in jiwoong’s arms

ricky came to receive his sweater back as jiwoong supposedly wanted to ‘borrow’ it

and then ricky finds you wearing it and is genuinely concerned like ‘jiwoong allowed this?’

jiwoong immediately starts rambling how you looked very nice in the sweater

used his oldest card 😭

and convinced ricky into just giving it to you

“ricky, you can just buy another!”

— han yujin

for some reason he has so many clothes

and all those clothes are not his but the other member’s

so even if you did wear another member’s clothing, he simply wouldn’t care cause technically it’s HIS clothing now

hao barges into yujin’s room where you both were playing games 💥

“yujin, have you done your homework yet?” he asks, looking at the shirt you were wearing

hao knits his eyebrows together “isn’t that my shirt?”

although yujin tried to lie about ever stealing it, hao already knew his record of taking the member’s clothes

“i was looking for this everywhere! since when did you take this?” he crossed his arms, about to scold yujin again

“like.. 5 months ago..?”

tag @bruhiamistake @trashydez @chxrrymxxnlight @haesunflower @big-uwu-stan @gnwookie @yjhcloud @kpoprhia @channiesprincess @blaycke @watamotee33 @hazyskyline @doobinnies @haechan-nahceah

here to join the taglist !

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girl-named-matty · 2 months ago

Text

How would they dress in Modern time? - HL Boys

Disclaimer: These are my silly HCs, I'm not tryna convince you of anything, just doing some silly stuff!!

Literally don't even know what compelled me to do this but I feel like sharing how I think they'd dress in modern times soooo lets go.

Sebastian:

Loose-fit clothing kinda guy.

Lots of darker, muted colors. I don't think he'd wear much of anything super bright outside of maybe some reds and whites. (And the khaki range for pants and pants only)

Man is the lover of all things cargo pants. Long, short, several pockets, zippable leg, idc bro loves them all. He is single-handedly keeping companies in business, yk?

Loose-fitting shirts. Not necessarily super oversized, maybe one size up to give him some room.

(He'll wear compression shirts every once in a while, but that's a whole different thing, awooga.)

Sleepwear-wise, he's either in some old t-shirt & shorts or he's just sleeping in his boxers. Sorry, I don't make the rules; I feel like he'd overheat easily, even in the winter lol.

Rings, rings, he loves rings. Specifically, the chunkier, bigger ones, and he wears them all the time. He's got one on basically every single finger outside of his left ring finger (ifykyk lol) and he'll wear them basically every day.

Bracelets too. Like those pull cord bracelets, he'd love those. And those random, like, really thick ones that have no meaning at all but look cool. Also, if you ever gave him those string friendship bracelets, he'd be wearing them forever. Bury him with it, tbh. Like one cord necklace with a pendant/beads on it maybe, or just a plain one.

He gives me dirty Converse kid vibes, but tbh I think he'd like to keep the majority of his shoes pretty nice and shaped up. Maybe he has a pair or two that just suck because he goes outside in them all the time, but for the most part, when he goes places (that aren't going to get his shoes ruined), he's wearing nice shoes.

(His pet peeve is accidentally scuffing them; don't tell anyone.)

As for piercings, he might have his ears pierced or maybe just one. I don't really have a huge personal opinion on this one, but I've seen some fanarts with him having them, and I liked it! Suppose it just depends on what. But I think he'd be down to getting at least one piercing in his lifetime.

Look, I know that he seems like the kinda guy to get some dorky ahh tattoo that has zero meaning, but personally, I feel like he's more of a sentimental tattoo kinda guy. Yk the one who gets his parents names on his chest right above his heart to remember them, or Anne's name there too, important dates in time in his life, that kind of stuff. (With the exception of one stupid tattoo he got ((probably while drunk lol)) on his ankle or something.)

Ominis:

He dresses a lot nicer/more put together than Sebastian.

He'd wear lots of blacks, greys, and other muted colors with the exception of some lighter shades of those colors and white. He wears a lot more white than Seb does. Maybe the occasional pastel yellow collared shirt (or a polo) that complements his complexion and hair well. (Just because he can't see how he dresses doesn't mean he doesn't know that he's slaying.)

Not loose, almost always form-fitting or close to his size. He's not a really big guy, so it's not a hassle getting into or anything.

Wears dress pants on the daily. He wants to look put together and nice everywhere he goes.

Collared shirts, polos occasionally, mostly nice shirts with long sleeves and the occasional shorter sleeve. He's not a massive fan of just showing skin, so he'll opt for the longer ones more.

Sleepwear-wise, I think he's a matching set pajama kinda guy. Silk or satin (sleep skincare 💅), nothing too out of the ordinary with patterns or just completely solid colors.

He's a king at layering and making things look nice. Long coats over almost any outfit, vests of any kind over collared shirts, waistcoats, scarves, etc. He just looks classy all the time yk?

There are some exceptions: If he's really close to you and he doesn't care how he looks, he's probably showing up in just a t-shirt, and if you're lucky, his hair won't be done either, but that hardly happens, so good luck trying to convince him to leave the house specifically without his hair done.

I don't think he'd wear rings to be honest, maybe like one, and that'd be it. However I do think he'd wear a necklace that had some sort of sentimental property to it (ex: his aunt noctua gave it to him or something like that.) But he'd wear it under his shirts and closest to his heart.

I don't think he'd get piercings or tattoos. Tattoo's specifically because those are just one thing he'd be irked about not being able to see. What if they wanted to be funny and messed it up or put the wrong thing? It's just a no from him, tbh. Piercings are the same way.

His shoes are always nice. You won't ever be able to find a single scuff or crease in them. (Fun fact: in the game, Ominis' shoes do have scuffs on them, presumably from bumping into things. So in this HC, he was told, & now he makes Sebastian help him get the scuffs off lol).

Garreth:

Dare I say his style is similar to Sebastian's but with a LOT more sweaters and hoodies. The majority of the sweaters that he has, his mom has made.

Lose clothing all dayyyy. Cuz no. 1, it's comfy, and no. 2 ... IT'S COMFY!!

Wears a lot more lighter colors, though, when it comes to t-shirts and stuff. He likes reds and light yellows (of course, he's a Gryffindor lol), and other stuff like that. Colors that complement his complexion and hair really well.

Loose pants, probably lots of sweatpants too. (I am vibing with his style fr lol.)

Sleepwear wise: I'm sorry, you cannot tell me this boy doesn't overheat like an afternoon in June. He's sleeping in his boxers or some light sleep shorts; otherwise, he's baking himself alive.

When it comes to layering, he's not the best, but he can rock a good white collar under a sweater from time to time.

Similar to Sebastian, I think he'd wear rings (although he'd wear less) and a lot of the pull-string bracelets.

Don't really think he'd have any piercings (and if he did, it'd probably be his ears, but even then). As for tattoos, he'd either get one stupid one and regret it & then totally get scolded for it by his mom LOL.

This boy goes through shoes like nobody's business. He's constantly getting up to something or being a dork outside. And since he has older brothers, his shoes growing up were probably hand-me-downs that did not last at all.

So needless to say, he has been pestered to at least have one nice pair lol.

Leander:

Oh boy, here we go. Leander's style is a little bit interesting.

He's the kinda guy to dress up nice 2-3 days of the week, and then the rest of the days either doesn't care or wakes up too late to do so, so he's throwing on the first thing in his closet that he sees.

Bro will walk around one day in nice slacks and a collared shirt and then the next be walking around in neon green athletic shorts and a yellow t-shirt.

But day to day, he tries to dress at least a mix of in between. Wears mostly t-shirts and doesn't have a huge preference on how they fit him. Mostly wears more fitted ones, but if they were oversized, he wouldn't really care. Some days he'd pull out a nicer shirt and dress accordingly.

Dress pants/slacks on the days where he at least has time to not scramble to his closet and grab something. (He's trying his best, okay? I love him lol.) Mostly khaki or colors within those shades because they really go with anything.

Dare I say he actually has matching sleepwear sets that he wears? (I wanna have matching PJ sets with him. 😔). Occasionally he'll wear sweats and a t-shirt to bed, but mostly he likes his matching sleepwear sets.

When he has the time, he can really dress nicely. He has a knack for layering or at least knowing what looks good/decent. He does the same thing with sweaters as Garreth. (Yes, he knows when he's getting dressed last minute it's not going to look the best; don't bully him.) His momma taught him well.

If he were to wear any bracelets, it'd probably be those string ones, like the "friendship" bracelets or something. He definitely knows how to make them because of his little sister, and he'll sit down and make them with her. He's probably had like six on one wrist at a time, LOL.

No piercings or tattoos, and he will not cave if someone tries to convince him. They're just not his thing.

Actually takes care of his shoes pretty well. He knows the value of a good shoe. And if his outfit isn't going to look the best, at least his shoes will!

Taglist: @endeavour12345, @icedmatchawoatmilk13, @crashinq-wavez, @randomsideblogfornoreason, @artzygurl, @ameliaphoenix, @ravenwind-75.

Thank you all so much for reading my absolute nonsense LOL. Likes and reblogs are appreciated. 💕

#hogwarts legacy #hl #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #Garreth weasley #leander prewett #hogwarts legacy headcanons #Sebastian sallow headcanons #ominis gaunt headcanons #garreth weasley headcanons #leander prewett headcanons #hogwarts legacy modern au #modern au

60 notes · View notes

scientia-rex · 1 year ago

Note

Do you have any moisturization tips? :0

Oh DO I!

Listen, skin has two jobs: keeping you in, and everything else out. Skin has to do a lot of complicated stuff to make that happen. Skin is chock full of glands and pores and whatnot. There's dermis (deeper layer) and epidermis (shallower layer), and 99% of what we're doing from the outside is about the epidermis.

Epidermis grows in as layers--there's a bottom layer that has cells that will just keep dividing forever, and then the cells that divide off that layer will start getting pushed up towards the surface of your skin. As they get pushed up, the cells get flatter and more keratinized and eventually dead.

That "stratum basal" is where you have your forever-dividing cells. So when you start something like Accutane, you can't transform the skin layers above it--you can only start affecting the skin as it marches upward towards its death and flaking off, so you have to give it months to take full effect. And we NEED to have some dead skin. It protects us.

Skin cells have proteins that hold them to each other. The goal is to form a watertight barrier. We need to keep water in because we are basically bags of water. Different protein issues (largely genetic) can cause different skin diseases.

Our skin also has glands that make protective oils (forming a powerful anti-bacterial barrier and trapping moisture inside) and sweat (because we DO want to be able to get rid of water, but only when WE want to).

So here's the thing about commercial moisturizers: none of them can put moisture back in your skin. That's just not a thing. The very best thing they can do is keep further water from leaving your skin. This is especially important if you have eczema, where you stand a good chance (about 50%) of lacking ceramides, which are critical to forming the natural skin barrier. As water evaporates off the skin, it takes more water with it. We don't understand the other half of eczema. Psoriasis involves dysfunction of the keratinization process, which is why those plaques form.

So the best moisturizers are those that create a moisture barrier without evaporating more water off. Any moisturizer where alcohol is a significant ingredient is worthless. Vaseline, or straight white petrolatum, is the best moisturizer. It feels greasy because it is. Its job is to form a watertight barrier, and greasy chemical are a lot better at that than thinner, waterlike chemicals. Moisturizers with silicones, like Aveeno (dimethicone is the active ingredient--I know, the bottle says oatmeal, it's a liar), will provide a fairly robust barrier without as greasy of a feeling. Lanolin, from sheep's wool, is also a great ingredient for forming a barrier, which is why I like Neutrogena Norwegian Formulation. Natural oils like jojoba (the best of the bunch) can be moisturizing, but just FYI, they're a tiny fraction as effective as white petrolatum. Like, less than 10%. I'm too lazy to get up and find my Cosmeceuticals textbook to remind myself exactly how much. So if you want "all natural," resign yourself to worse.

BUT!!!! Your skin is not all the same! You have scalp skin, face skin, neck skin, trunk skin, arm skin, leg skin, skin around your genitals, skin of the palms, and skin of soles of the feet. And all of those can act different. So I can't say "apply Vaseline everywhere" because that might be too much skin barrier for your face--what if your face has oil glands that work perfectly well? What if we need a lighter, less occlusive moisturizer? That's where my personal hell was for the last ten years as I struggled to find a facial moisturizer I like! What if you have oil glands that are overproductive? You may need a totally different moisturizer than I need! No good way to figure it out except trial and error while paying close attention to ingredient lists.

Sunblock is also a good thing to have but as someone who doesn't wear it because a) I don't go outside and b) it always breaks me out, I feel hypocritical talking extensively about it. I wear "dad hats" (at least a 2" brim all the way around) and long sleeves while gardening. You should definitely still wear sunscreen, though. Do as I say, not as I do.

#the attending dr. kristophine #but GO AHEAD AND LECTURE ME ON DANDRUFF AND EAR CARE AND WASHING ONE'S VAGINA because SURELY I KNOW NOTHING right Internet #none of those idiots who jump on my other posts to well actually me know what the fuck they're talking about

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justcallmesakira · 1 year ago

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The reader looking so pretty at an event in the agency, co worker dazai can't help but stare at her :> make sum scenario :>

"I SEE YOUR PRETTY EYES AT MINE, MISTER~"

Sypnosis: Dazai just cant keep his eyes to himself when a colleuge of his is looking so darn pretty!

Dazai x fem! reader

Genre: suggestive, romance

Warnings: reader is sort of cheeky, suggestive as hell, implied alcoholism, author gave the reader on what attire shes wearing.

A/N FINALLY A REQUEST AFTER SO FUCKIN LONG

The agency had decided to hold another party in celebration of a huge deal which would help the agency .

And of course you were invited, almost everyone was. You decided to look extra pretty today because why not, not because of others but for yourself.

You had picked out a extravagant ebony coated frock which covered all the way up to your legs and ended with glistening white layers of laces.

The party was at 8 o clock, you had time plus what would you do getting there so early?

Gently tapping on the tubes of lipsticks you picked out a vermillion shade and smoothly applied the waxy substance on your lips. The colour suited the rose tied around your neck really well.

Finally adding some final touches you rushed out the door and walked along to the agency.

There were colourful lights and food everywhere, Atsushi teaching Kyouka how to make decorations, doctor Yosano taking a bit too much of wine, ranpo staring at powdered donuts... To think of it you remember him taking 5 of them sneakily one night and you wonder why hes so obsessed with them.

But one thing you could notice was a certain someones eyes on you... Dazai.

You walked up to atsushi and kyouka, talking to them and teaching them some tips and tricks to fit in with the agency.

You could feel at all times though, a certain pair of eyes glancing at you from time to time from the corner of the room.

"Excuse me, i will just fix my hair and come back" you politely end the conversation before walking towards the door and going outside.

Despite your heels clacking against the floor, you could feel another set of shoes following them.

"Dazai-san, may i know why i feel your eyes on my at all times?" you ask putting a perfect spot from the distance between your figure and the mans figure.

He chuckled.

"Bella, i must say your quite the smart one arent ya'?" osamu replies back with much cheekiness in his tone as yiu turned to him, he had a black tuxedo, a polished and refined one, it hugged his body quite tightly too.

You just sighed at his remark, he was a ladies man you knew but you have never seen the glint and love in his eyes on a girl ever before, it amde your stomach turn slightly in a good way, of course.

His teasing grin drops and turns into a more soothing smile as he walks over to you which makes you back towards the wall unsure whether to trsut him or not.

He lowers his head a bit to reach your face taking in all of it's features.

"Are you trying to woo me, dazai-san? It seems like it"

"Haaah, maybe. The thing is bella you just look so.." you expect him to give you some compliment like every boy does when they see a girl sitting pretty and all but instead he gently took a strand of your hair, took it to his lips and uttered every single quality and flaw about you, it was as if hes born to have a poets tongue with you being the muse.

"I just want to admire you all day, my darling. Its not lust nor a small crush, it isnt even close to love but something beyond the world and beyond the universe to attend to, i dont know i could drown in your eyes right now but i would prefer staring at them for an eternity as if its a gorgeous piece of art hung on a museum"

he said softly, oh god did this man made your heart drop down your stomach and melt into your intestines.

With each word he spoke through his charming voice, you could feel his breathe and hands going closer towards your sweating body and at last, he asked for your permission to which you only looked at him with a slight embroidery of embarrassment on your cheeks.

Dazai tenderly kissed your forehead but though it lasted short you wondered whether he tried to go for your lips instead because of the shift in his body.

"Oi, dazai and [Name] if your done with your cheesy af encounter than come back to the party! Presidents calling you two!"

Atlast after moments of intimate interaction which wasnt even intimate because of the silent yearn for something neither the two of you could preach. Both of you decided to go back to the party.

Later in the relationship you realised that your first kiss with this loverman was not the type of kiss those possessive men would do which would take your breathe away but more of a desperate one as if to reach out for something which one already got.

In the end nor dazai or you could just confess normally without making each other look like two pieces of magnificent artwork looking at each other.

A/N: i hate this more than dazai hates him self :(((((((( btw reader is wearing this dress

Divider crds! : @cafekitsune

Tags! : @inojuuy @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie @tsuunara @elizais @saelique @chuuyasboner @atzuhi @riiwrites @ruanais @biscuits-spooky-corner @rusmii

#sakira!#sakiras writing notebook!!!#bsd x reader #bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #Bsd fanfic #Bsd drabble #Drabbles #dazai #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #Osamu dazai #Bsd dazai #Spicy

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awyanno · 26 days ago

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Ro'Meave redesign

Something that's always bugged me was the outfits chosen for mystreet. Like, don't get me wrong, they're cool but I feel like they don't work as well as it should.

Zane: I wanted to give him a more layered look because he's like a ogre. He has layers to him. I don't think I did it total justice but you get my idea. It makes him look softer, but I feel like more unapproachable to those outside of his circle bc of all the black. I also thought it would be funny to give him a subtle MLP shirt design. He would totally wear subtle merch that are disguised as band t-shirts. I also feel like he's taller than most people but makes himself smaller by leaning away from people & curling in on himself. So when he gets mad he's that more intimidating.

Garroth: Obviously he likes hawaiian t-shirts so I wanted to keep that instead of the flannel bc it's kinda ugly. it's a touch too bright so I gave him a darker blue as his "main color", but I kept the bright blue as his accent. Plus, since Garroth in MyStreet is a lot sillier and more himbo, I figured the hawaiian t-shirt + shorts combo fit him better. It makes him a lot more approachable and makes him seem fun/goofy. Plus, he's the most likely to just join in on the fun so I wanted to give him clothes that would allow him to join a random game of soccer or football.

Vylad: There's this joke that Vylad is oftentimes off traveling the world, so I wanted to give him more of a hiker/drifter vibe instead of chic French biker. He also gets a backpack to carry his shit everywhere. Especially bc of diaries bc I feel like that man dresses like a hobo, no matter the fact that he comes from wealth and definitely has the money. It's more of a, functionality vs coolness style. Plus I wanted him to stand out compared to Laurance so I made him wear more earthy tones.

Family: I wanted to give them all traits that Zianna would give them. Like rounder cheeks, hooded eyes (Zianna would have to do that eyelid trick for the winged eyeliner), and their lips have a more protruding part to their top lip. However, Garroth and Vylad both have thicker eyebrows compared to Zane. But Zane and Garroth have different noses to Vylad.

#mystreet #mystreet fanart #zane ro'meave #garroth ro'meave #vylad ro'meave #my art #redesign #also this is no hate to the og designs #This is my childhood and I love them #however #the clothes have always bugged me a bit #especially in mystreet #so i figured this would be an easy way to get some practice in

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jackactuallywrites · 7 days ago

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All Seeing, All Knowing, All Loving Part 22

Summary: Night out with Ghost and his mates!

Notes: Yes I know it took forever and it’s very mid pls forgive me my loves x

Word count: 2,871

ao3 link

What the fuck were you supposed to wear on a night out with Ghost’s mates?

Almost the entire contents of your wardrobe were on the floor, with the pile of rejects growing larger by the second. It had been too long since you’d had to dress up to meet a man’s family. At least this time, it was easier; his family were his squaddie friends, which was a lot less daunting than meeting the parents, a last hurrah before they were deployed again. It didn’t make finding an outfit any easier, though. In fact, it was harder. With parents, you’d dress conservatively, like you didn’t slut up for the weekends, and act like you were a bright, professional young woman. You wanted Simon’s mates not to think you were a premature grandma. There must be a middle ground somewhere between slut and grandmother.

Ah, fuck it. If they had a problem with you dressing up, Ghost would have to put them in their place. You liked your short, skimpy dresses; they were comfy, and a dress meant you didn’t have to put as much effort in everywhere else; your tits were their own accessory. Sod bandage dresses being ‘out of style’, you liked that they squashed you tightly enough to force your body into an hourglass shape, even if you did have to babysit the hem all night. Bright red, fuck it, you were going all in, with a red lip too, and sky-high black heels, no trainers for you tonight! Your phone pinged as you were scowling at your eyeliner in the mirror, trying and failing to get the wing sharp enough. If you kept making them thicker every time you ‘evened them out’, you’d end up looking like a panda.

‘Ghost: Are you ready? Heading out from barracks now. :-)’

You could feel your heart beating in your stomach. Should you have gotten a proper dinner before going out drinking? Probably. But you could always just get a kebab later; there was no doubt the lads would.

‘You: Will be ready when you get here!’

After a quick google to see how far away the barracks were, giving you an estimate of how long you had until Simon showed up. You could fit a little panic attack in that time. You’d have to be quick about it, though, so you ran through the fears in your mind.

Fear 1: his friends wouldn’t like you.

Well, off the bat, that made no difference. Ghost seemed to need you like he needed water.

Fear 2: everyone would hate your outfit.

Again, pointless. Ghost and his mates had already seen you slutted out in town before.

Fear 3: you’d make a tit of yourself.

Hadn’t you been doing that since the very start of your relationship?

Fact-checking really did have a way of calming you down, even if you were loathe to admit that to your therapist. With the allotted time to freak out over, you took a quick outfit selfie to send to the girly group chat for a bit of motivation.

‘Helen: A man cannot possibly deserve this outfit. LET ME HIT x’

It wasn’t like it was particularly hard for you to get such a compliment from Helen, but it still bolstered your confidence. You were hot. Scratch that; you were gorgeous, sirenly, able to lure an entire armada onto the rocks if you so chose.

All you needed to do now was avoid getting any cat hair on your dress. Easier said than done, given that the pair of them had seemingly managed to get a thin layer of fur on every single thing you owned. Soap was still yowling his distress outside your bedroom door, having been banished after he’d headbutted your mascara while you were in the process of doing your lashes. Damn cat. You could see his little paws swiping under the door, claws raking at the carpet.

“Soap! Fuck off! Quit scratching the carpet!”

Of course, he didn’t stop, continuing to yowl the song of his people as he lifted up the edge of carpet with his claws. You tidied away all your makeup and stuffed it in your drawer before you went to open the door, not taking a single chance with the furry little heathen.

The very second the door creaked open, Soap shoved himself through, winding around your ankles, his throaty yowls back to a regular cat meow.

“Christ alive, Soap, I was literally in my room.”

He chirped, his tail curling around your calf. Clearly, he took after his father, clingy bastard. Your phone buzzed again.

‘Ghost: Can the lads come see Soap and Roach? :-)’

Fuck. You hadn’t planned on that. You still had half a dozen knickers spread out over your bed from where you were picking the most appealing ones for Simon to take off with his teeth. You nudged Soap into the living room with your foot, closing the door behind you. They wouldn’t go in your room, right? If Come Dine with Me was anything to go by, they’d go through every single drawer in your house specifically to find things to make fun of you.

At least the place was fairly clean from when you’d done a panic tidy earlier today. Ugh, you couldn’t be bothered to panic that much.

‘You: Sure!’

In the time it took for you to decide on a pair of heels, they were already knocking on your door, the orderly rapping of a soldier instantly recognisable to you now. Soap was at the door already, ready to greet intruders into his home, whereas Roach was.. somewhere. You nudged Soap out the way as you opened the door, given only a second to get a brief glimpse of the men in your doorway before Simon yanked you into a bear hug, crushing you against his chest, and the warm fabric of his dark jumper. Did he own any other clothes? You didn’t need to see the men behind him to smell them, the clouds of cologne practically forming a thick, choking fog. At least Simon smelled nice, familiar and comforting. He wrapped an arm around your waist to lift you up and place you to the side, his hand dropping to your arse for a quick squeeze before it moved to your lower back. With his other hand, he gestured to the men loitering, “Baz, Kingy, Derry, Gaz, Price, and James.”

You felt as though you had a vague memory of Baz; wasn’t he there when Helen was puking in the gutter? Price and Gaz you knew— though again, the circumstances hadn’t been great. The other men were a mystery to you, all a generic mix of men, the type you’d avoid on the train after a football match. Regardless, you gave them a polite smile, and gestured to Soap, who was currently wrapping himself around Simon’s ankle, purring as loud as a helicopter, “Right, so that’s Soap, and Roach will come out the second he realises Si is here.”

Gaz crouched down to greet Soap, who seemed more than happy to trot over for fuss, and, as expected, Roach came slinking out from under the sofa. You were pretty sure he’d dug himself a little nest under there somewhere. Ghost let go of you to scoop up the little creature, pressing kisses to his fluffy cheek, “Alright Roach lad? Taking care of the missus for us?”

Kingy smiled, reaching out to stroke Roach’s head, “Does look a bit like Roach, doesn’t he?”

There was a vague murmur of agreement, and you felt a little left out for never having known the soldier. You assumed he was dead, what with him not being around, so it wasn’t like you could start asking questions, but occasionally it itched in the back of your mind.

Ghost dropped Roach back to the floor, “Right, you’ve met the boys, now get your mucky selves out the missus’ flat. Only soldier allowed here is yours truly.” He winked at your rolled eyes, and the men trooped back out into the hall, though unfortunately not taking the stink of cologne with them.

“You got everything?” Ghost asked, and you grabbed your purse, giving it a quick pat down, “Phone, purse, keys. Grand.”

“Off we go then.”

About an hour later, you were sandwiched between Ghost and Gaz, the latter of which was quickly becoming your favourite of his friends. The man had a quick wit and a painfully charming smile, managing to get several digs in at the other lads before they clocked on. It probably helped that he was slow on the beer while almost every other bloke was practically drowning themselves in cheap shots, including your own Simon. Thankfully, he wasn’t an obnoxious drunk, nor an aggressive one, though he did lean on the side of overly affectionate, his arm always around you, constantly falling over himself to get you drinks and snacks, a dog at your command.

“Got him well trained, you have.” Gaz gestured at Ghost as he trotted over to the bar to get you another water, you carefully balancing alcohol with hydration. With Ghost out of earshot, you turned to Gaz, “Is he normally like this?”

Gaz snorted, “No. He’s usually terrifying.” He gestured at Price, who was nursing a whiskey in the corner, watching the others, “More like him. Yet even more brooding and mysterious.”

“He never!”

Gaz nodded, “Not a word of lie. He’s been all Mr. Cheerful since you turned up. Before that, he was fucking terrifying. More tightly wound than a watch.”

You took a sip of your vodka lemonade, “In that case, you’re welcome.”

The thought that had been lingering on your mind ever since Simon had told you came to your lips, “Is this deployment gonna be dangerous?”

Gaz went quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about his answer carefully. Damn secrets act. “All deployments are dangerous to a certain extent.” What a diplomatic answer.

“Well yeah, I know that much. But, like, is it more dangerous than usual?”

He sighed, “Can’t tell you. But what I can tell you is that,” he pointed to Ghost, who was dutifully bringing over your water, “he definitely should have died at some point. Not entirely sure how he’s even still breathing. The suspicion is that he’s not entirely human.”

You raised a brow at him, and he clarified, “What I’m saying is, he’s a tough bastard. Wherever we are, you can guarantee he’ll come out alive.”

Ghost slipped back into his seat beside you, sneaking his arm back around your shoulder, an easy smile on his lips as he leaned in, “You know you gotta pay for this before I give it to you.”

He’d done this routine five times already, but you obliged, leaning up to give him a quick kiss before he handed over the drink. It was clear he was sloshed, a slight unsteadiness to his posture, and he didn’t quite make his voice quiet enough as he leant down to your ear, “Rock fucking hard, darlin’.”

Gaz grimaced, “Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that, LT.”

“Fuck off, Kyle.”

Price broke his silence, beckoning Ghost, who grumbled loudly about being taken away from you, but did as he was bidden, leaving you yet again. You looked at Gaz again, “Kyle? I thought your name was Gary. You know, Gaz, Gary.”

He grinned, “That would make sense. But it’s the last name. Garrick.”

You rolled your eyes, “Army and their nicknames. What about the other lot then? Is Baz not even a Barry?”

He shook his head and laughed, “Nah, that one’s a Barry. James is a James, and Kingy’s last name is King, same with Price. Then Derry is from Derry, his real name is Connor. It’s fairly simple.”

“And Ghost?”

“Well, the mask.”

You shifted in your seat, “Soap and Roach?”

Gaz’ bright smile faltered a little, and he took a thoughtful sip of his beer before he answered, “Roach, I didn’t know. Just knew he was an old soldier mate of Ghost’s, but he died before I came on the scene. Soap, I knew. Sprinkled his ashes with Ghost and Price, actually. Good man. Ridiculous Scottish accent. Him and Ghost were thick as thieves.”

You listened silently, curious, but Gaz shook his head, “Soap isn’t my story to tell. Ghost’ll tell you when he’s ready. Took him long enough to even speak his name aloud after he died.”

Ghost and Price returned, ruining your chance at learning anything more, and you could see some of the carefree joy had fled from Simon’s expression. He rested a hand on Baz’s shoulder, gesturing to the door with a nod, “Chug ‘em, we’re off early.”

There was a chorus of groans, and the remainder of the drinks were quickly guzzled before the lads got to their feet and reluctantly trudged out. Gaz clucked his tongue, “Looks like our lads holiday got bumped up.”

Ghost swerved through the chairs to come to your side, offering you a hand to help you to your feet, and you took it, looking up at him questioningly, “Off already?”

He looked at Price before he answered, “Time to drop the missus off?”

Price checked his watch, “If you’re quick.”

Ghost draped his arm around your shoulders, “Come on then, darlin’, let me walk you home.”

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily for you, they’d picked the pub down the road from yours to get hammered at, so it wasn’t a long walk back. You fiddled with Ghost’s fingers as he walked in silence, the joy of the evening having been sucked out. You broached the question first, “How long are you gonna be gone?”

He sighed, “Not sure, love. I can’t give you much detail, much as I’d like to. S’all classified.”

You weren’t convinced that he just didn’t want to alarm you with details. Then again, he was special forces. It was all frustratingly vague. Already, you were walking down the hallway towards your front door, your time with him almost up already. You would have liked to drag him into your home and lock the door, but you had a feeling that the lads wouldn’t approve of you kidnapping their lieutenant. He leant against the wall as you unlocked the door, and you could see a touch of resignation in his eyes, one that was no doubt mirrored in yours. Soap slunk out as you opened the front door, and Ghost picked him up, pressing a kiss to his furry forehead, “You keep my girl safe, aye? Make sure she doesn’t get lonely.”

Roach bounded over to Ghost, and he crouched down to fuss him, “Goes for you as well, mate.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, looking up at Ghost, “Never mind about me. Who’s gonna be taking care of you?”

He chuckled at that, dropping Soap onto the carpet and pulling you into his arms, his hands knotting around the back of your waist, “Darlin’, you have nothing to worry about.”

You pursed your lips, and he leant in to rest his forehead against yours, “Nothin’ on Earth can keep me from coming back to you. I’ll crawl back on broken limbs if I have to.”

His tone was playful, but you could see the solemn promise in his eyes. You groaned, still reluctant to let him go, as though you had any choice in the matter, “Just, keep yourself out of danger, yeah?”

He snorted, “I usually go where the danger is, love. Big theme of my job, yeah?”

“Dickhead. You know what I mean.”

He smiled, “I know.” His eyes flicked over your face, and his smile turned wicked, “I’ll make a deal with you. Promise me I’ll get to bend you over your sofa, and I’ll promise to avoid risking my neck.”

“Come back in one piece, and I’ll ride you til you can’t remember your own name.”

Ghost visibly shuddered, “Fuck me, love.” He took your hand and placed it on his crotch, allowing you to feel how hard he was, “See what you do to me? Try stop me from coming home to this.”

His phone pinged, and he grumbled, “I’ve got to go, love.”

You would have begged him to stay, but you knew it wouldn’t make a difference. So, you bit back your pain and nodded, “I’ll be waiting for you. You owe me a kebab, and some dick.”

Ghost shook his head, and let out a heavy sigh as he smiled, shifting his hands so they cupped your face, “I fuckin’ love you, darlin’. My dirty little missus.”

It wasn’t quite how you’d imagined that confession, but it still sent butterflies fluttering through your chest. The big brute of a man, holding your face as though you were the most precious thing in his life, loved you. If anything, this would have been the most perfect time to fuck each other’s brains out, yet fate was being a cunt. So, you just placed your hands over his. “I love you too. Come home safe.”

With a final kiss to your forehead, Simon turned and left you.

No Ghost, and no kebab. What a shit ending to the night.

#jack writes #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #cod fic #simon ghost x reader

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huellitaa · 7 months ago

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it girl autumn 🎃🎀🍁

autumn is upon us!!!!!!!!!! all hail the best season 💭🎀🍂🧸🩷

──★ ˙ ̟🎀ur autumn to do list

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ ur never too old for trick or treating (if u celebrate!). girl get OUT THERE. (🎀🗒️note: if u have any little siblings or cousins or family, then you can take them out trick or treating and celebrate w them js as an excuse to get outside!!)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ make pinterest boards for ur fav autumn movies and shows bcuz they cant do it themselves </3

🍂𓂃 ࣪˖ go collect leaves outside and make a pretty piece of art out of them

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ walk around early in the morning when its all foggy and pretty

🐇𓂃 ࣪˖ learn how to bake or cook (in my case anyway) OR look for some cosy autumn recipes to learn and share w ur loved ones or just to have a cosy night in and eat for urself♡

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ go thru ur closet and wardrobe and throw out all the old things you don't wear anymore. autumn is a time of change, after all (🎀🗒️note: make some cute autumn outfits while ur at it! ♡)

🎃𓂃 ࣪˖ drink every possible pumpkin spice drink u can find in ur area

🍂𓂃 ࣪˖ get out of ur reading slump! if ur in one anyway. if not then just read more books bcuz tea, rain and books is quite possibly the cosiest thing ever

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ visit a library alone, go shopping alone, just enjoy ur alone time. autumn is a time of introspection and a time to work on urself, and though i love spending time with myself in any season, autumn is especially cosy ♡

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ look at cute pumpkin designs and make one urself if u celebrate halloween ♡

🎃𓂃 ࣪˖ make some little halloween decorations if u celebrate ♡

💭𓂃 ࣪˖ build a little bug hotel out of twigs and leaves and things u find on the ground outside!!!!!! i used to do this all the time w my brother or my friends when i was little and its very nostalgic and fun ♡

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ take loads of pictures and make little vlogs and video diaries of ur autumn adventures, just for the memories ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 music and media

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ ur autumn playlist

clairo (charm, sling)

the 1975

florence & the machine (lungs)

the cardigans

the crane wives

neil young (harvest)

the smiths

phoebe bridgers

type o negative

kali uchis (never be yours)

gracie abrams

🍂𓂃 ࣪˖ movies and shows

the nightmare before christmas (obviously)

gilmore girls ♡

coraline, corpse bride, pretty much any tom burton movie

anne with an e

fantastic mr fox

hilda

gravity falls ♡

you've got mail

over the garden wall

pride and prejudice

jennifers body ♡

practical magic

little women

kiki's delivery service

arrietty ♡

howl's moving castle

lord of the rings ♡

and i always have a harry potter marathon every autumn because i loved it when i was younger, so why not!

(🎀🗒️note: i love playing identity v, animal crossing and cosy grove in the autumn too! or meeting up w friends and literally js playing board games theyre so fun♡)

──★ ˙ ̟🎀fall fashion and staples

okay so i personally love pink, whites, browns, cream colours and just general neutrals-pastels in the autumn, but you can adjust this to ur personal aesthetic and however you see fit!

the first thing i think of when i think autumn is layering. layer layer layer layer. tops and sweaters, cardigans, jumpers, leg warmers, tights; to keep you warm and pretty ♡

pay attention 2 fabrics! knitted, cashmere, fleece, flannel, all the cosy sorts are perfect for the autumn months ♡

patterns like stripes, leopard print, chevron, argle and plaid are so cute and simple, esp in october / november ♡

neutral colours, like beige, white, brown, cream, grey, black, and pale variants of colours too i think work so well esp in the autumn ♡

anything fur lined is absolutely adorable i rest my case

MASSIVE COATS. i have this big trenchcoat my mum had since i was a baby and i wear it EVERYWHERE in autumn ♡

boots are THE autumn shoes, bonus points if they're fur-lined. they just look so so cute ajdhfjsfjhsjf♡

knit hats and small hair accessories, bonus points if they're in the pretty autumn colours ♡

not really fashion but i love doing simple makeup in the autumn. just very dewy natural looks are pretty all year around, but especially in the fall ♡

🍂𓂃 ࣪˖ pretty fall fashion:

all my love... 💬🎀🫶🏻💗

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fragmented-king · 1 year ago

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-_Vay-Cay_-

Stolas

Naturally, Stolas was the one who came to you with the idea.

He was going through your belongings one day, totally not trying to find and steal one of your soft nice smelling hoodies.

While looking around he found an old letter depicting a snowy mountain, humans skiing down its white slopes with "Winter 2002" written in the corner.

He flipped it around to find a note written by non other then, you.

"I just went skiing with some friends. It was nice, until someone messed up and slammed into me... Now my ankle is sprained... WORTH IT! I got to drink some bomb ass hot cocoa."

Stolas knew about snow, of course. But he never had the chance to experience it for himself, and he wouldn’t let this opportunity slip by.

He carefully puts it back in the envelope before continuing to look around. Next time he sees you he'll have to bring it up.

He finally finds what he came for a few seconds later. Quickly grabbing the hoodie from your bed then sprints out of your room making sure to clear any evidence he was ever there as he leaves.

Later that day he started planning a vacation for you two. Somewhere quiet, somewhere cold, somewhere snowy.

~~~~~

You're sitting on one of the many fancy couches in the palace when Stolas walks in a slight sense of worry emanating from him.

"Ahh there you are. I looked everywhere, I started to get worried after I searched your room and didn't find you or a text... I need to speak with you about something, may I sit?"

You nod and gesture to the spot next to you. He happily takes said spot and gets comfy before turning back to you.

"Dear, I've been wondering. Would you... Like to go on a vacation... With me? Everything is already planned. Transportation, protection, and food of course. All I need from you is a simple yes or no."

You sit there in silence thinking it over while he waits for your answer, he's staring a little bit.

After a moment going over it in you're head you agree, a vacation sounds nice. Even if all you do all day is laze about and receive love from a certain owl it wouldn't hurt.

~~~~~

You step through the portal, the chilly frost bitten air wasting no time trying to freeze you to your core, it fails however because of the twenty something layers Stolas made you wear.

You'll admit it's keeping you warm, but it also makes it hard to see... And walk...

You clumsily follow the owl through the snow covered mountainside eventually coming up to a grand looking cabin.

You turn to Stolas wondering if this is the place only to find him beaming at you, guess it is.

Once inside you take your time getting all the layers off while Stolas brews some hot cocoa.

By the time you're comfortable the sun starts going down. You're about to head to bed before Stolas stops you, asking you to join him for a bit.

You sit down with Stolas on two surprisingly comfortable wooden chairs, sipping hot cocoa and watching the sunset through a large wooden framed window, the high altitude of the mountain making the view more special.

It's cold and blue outside, but warm and orange inside. This really is a nice vacation. You should thank him when you're back home.

~~~~~

Stella

Convincing this avian royal to think of, non the less talk about the possibility of a ‘vacation’, is not an easy task.

It took you weeks of prying, prodding, and sometimes even begging to get Stella to consider it.

As right as it feels to congratulate yourself for getting her to consider it, only half your work is done. You still need to get her to go.

Once you finally convince her though, she goes from acting like she would never enjoy a vacation in a million years to acting like she waited forever for this.

The whiplash from her attitude's complete 180 might as well have broke your neck.

Sunscreen! Stella cannot emphasize this enough.

Your puny, spongy, soft human body will not be tainted by Earth's sun rays. And it's definitely is not just her trying to justify her rubbing your bare back, or down your sides.

She's 100% doesn't have ulterior motives, at all, why would you even say that?!

Though… If you did get sunburned, then she’d still get to rub that Aloe Vera all over you… Hmm…..

No! Your skin is far too pristine to be burned and roasted like that, no matter how tempting it is.

~~~~~

You arrive at the door to Stella's room, barely even knocking on it before it was swung open an ecstatic Stella greeting you from her well furbished room.

"There you are! I've been waiting for ages!"

She had a light blue sundress on. It hugged her curves well and you'd be lying to said you didn't stare a bit. All of that topped off with the largest wide brimmed sunhat you’ve ever seen.

You open your mouth to complement her appearance but are cut off by her dumping three giant, incredibly heavy bags in your arms.

"Let's get going, you wouldn't want to be late for our hotel reservation, now would you? And I've heard wonderful things about their wine."

Before you could so much as get a word in edgewise she starts dragging you off towards portal, all while you're struggling to get used to the weight of the bags.

While you walk she starts talking your ear off listing off all the activities she's planned for you two.

You nearly scoff at that. She's talking like she's the one who organized all of this. It's not like you spent multiple weeks planning and convincing her.

After a moment more struggling with the bags you catch up and step through the portal after her.

You're instantly hit in the face with a waft of heat, sun, and fresh ocean air. Despite the initial shock it's a nice change from the palace that you're oh so used to.

She gestures for you to follow then speed walks off towards the hotel leaving you with her bags, again. You're already tired, and you haven’t even gone to the beach yet.

~~~~~

After the workout that was getting Stella's luggage up to the room you and her finally relax on the beach together.

Not a single other person in sight. You turn to her calm but still a little confused.

"Where is everyone, an island like this should have tons of staff... Wait... Did you rent out this entire island?!"

She, not surprisingly laughed at that.

"Of course I did. I may be the prettiest girl you'll ever see but I'm still a demon. And, I thought that some alone time would be nice. No guards or servants. Just you, and me."

Mid sentence she interlocked her hand with yours while progressively getting closer. You lean forward for a kiss but feel a finger on your lips instead.

"You should know by now that you have to earn that darling. This is our first day here and you expect me to just give you whatever you want right off the bat. This may be a vacation, but that does not mean you get whatever you want instantly."

You frown and look away, it was such a romantic moment before she went and said all that. But, you're willing to work for it. You wouldn't be here sitting with her if you weren't.

~~~~~

Octavia

Good luck getting her to relax. She definitely needs it though, as this owl is stressed. I mean, she's got a lot of worries and she's a teenager, so you've got your work cut out for you.

That being said however, she's easily tricked into relaxing if you say the vacation is for you not her, and it wouldn't be the same without her there. That'll make her change her mind real quick.

Then once there, when she least expects it, you strike. Then before she knows it, she's feeling relaxed. Or at the very least a little better then before.

My professional opinion is to take her somewhere that is completely new to her, like nothing she's seen before if possible.

It'll help her forget her troubles easier. I recommend somewhere quiet with tons of greenery. And animals,

And stick around her, she wants consistency, and reliability. That mixed in with tons of quality time.

Just keep close to her if you can, try to make her have a good time, and most of all try and make it new to her.

Time away from the normal and melancholy is what she needs most.

~~~~~

You walk up to Octavia's door and knock. Nothing. You knock again. Also nothing.

You invite yourself in and see her laying on her bed staring at the ceiling, never a good sign.

You walk over and sit on the bed watching her snap out of it when the bed dips. She turns to look at you not moving much.

"Hey, you doing ok?"

She half sighs half groans then flips over to face you better.

"I'm fine."

You frown at that, 'I'm fine' is not a 'I'm actually ok' kind of answer.

"Rough day?"

"Just my parents, again... UGH WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BE NORMAL! Or at least not make their problems mine."

She flops back onto her back, going back to staring at the ceiling her expression shifting constantly as her mind works through her inner turmoil.

"Alright well. Were going on a vacation tomorrow so please remember to pack."

She groans again and flips over this time facing away from you.

"Do I have to... I mean I've told you a hundred times, I don't need a vacation... I just wanna stay home..."

You frown, again. You just gotta convince her to go. You can do that...

"It isn't for you. I want a vacation. And I want you to come, cause it wouldn't be the same without you."

You two sit in silence for a few moments before she groans extra loud. You're about to ask if she's alright before she suddenly gets up and walks into her closet.

You hear things being moved around and assume she's packing. So you'll leave her be, you've have to pack too anyways.

Before you leave you walk up to the doorframe of the closet, peak your head in just so she can see it.

"I love you."

You hear her mumble something along the lines of 'luv you too' before you turn to leave.

~~~~~

You quickly step out of the limo going around to Octavia's side to open the door for her. She quickly gets out before you can.

You know she doesn't like you doing that, but you're just trying to be courteous. Like usual.

Non the less you walk over and take her hand leading her into the medium to large house with a giant glass dome connected to one end.

"I thought you'd enjoy this place. It's a house built in the early 1900's. It has a giant greenhouse with hundreds if not thousands of plant types in it. Perfect place for a week away from home, I think."

You two go inside while some servants unload your things. You start showing her around, just little interesting things you learned from the homes owner.

You walk around for a while most stuff she doesn't react to, but have one more trick left. You pull out a small, old, metal whistle and blow into it. A moment later the dog of the house come padding in.

He's a large old golden retriever named Spike, who's lived here for years. You met him a few days ago to make sure he was friendly. He was, and you know Octavia's going to love him.

You watch her expression change from overall boredom to confusion then finally to a small smile when Spike walks up to her and rests his head against her side.

She look at him for a moment, then up to you clearly a little confused. You smile at her then walk over and start scratching behind his ear.

"His favorites spots are behind the ears, base of his tail, and his toe beans. Just be careful not to tickle him, he doesn't like that."

She cautiously crouches down and starts lightly scratching him behind an ear. You make sure nothing goes wrong then take a step back letting her enjoy some doggo time.

Yeah. She definitely needed this.

~~~~~

Started by Erratic-Sanguine, Finished by @jester089

Cheers Luv, we both appreciate it.

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #headcanon #helluva boss x reader #stolas #stella #octavia #stolas goetia #stella goetia #octavia goetia #stolas x reader #stella x reader #octavia x reader #jester089 #thanks

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twiishaa · 5 months ago

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𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋‎♪ the house across the bridge kita x reader, wc 2.2k warnings not proofread, inspired by ghibli film ‘when marnie was there’, idk <3

when you moved to the country, you weren’t expecting to meet anyone your age— and you definitely weren’t expecting to fall in love with a boy who lived there. maybe this summer fling would last you forever…

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 kita masterlist ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

—

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 THIS was the first summer you spent away from everything— the city, your parents, and, well, anything you knew. you’d come to spend the summer in the country with your aunt, which she so graciously offered after you told her about how much you wanted to do something new, something different.

the train was long and uncomfortable, the seats stiff and the air stuffy. but outside, the view changed as you went from city to city, travelling further away. your aunt lived right on the outskirts of amagasaki, near the farms and green fields. as you began to enter the rural areas, the landscape shed its building skyline, and the concrete grounds were tenderly replaced with lazy fields bursting with crops and colourful flowers. it felt like an entire different world, leaving the city behind to enter the dream-like countryside.

—

stretching your legs as you got off the train, you spotted your aunt almost immediately— she had a loving, maternal-like aura, always wearing a warm smile on her face. the city’s train station was small and slightly dirty, with only a few people populating it.

before you could say hello, your aunt started squishing your cheeks. “my, [name], you’ve grown so much! the last time i saw you, you were tiny!” she said.

you gave an awkward laugh. “thank you for letting me stay, auntie.”

she shook her head. “no, the pleasure’s all mine. it’ll be nice having some company,” finishing her sentence, she gestured to a small, old-looking car. “should we get going?” smiling, you nodded.

—

“this was my old daughter’s room,” your aunt said while opening the door. “she moved out a while back, so it’s been free ever since. well, it’s yours for the summer now! feel free to make it feel like home,” looking around, you could tell it hadn’t been used recently— there was a small layer of dust on the furniture and the decorations were reminiscent of the trends from the last decade.

this wasn’t too bad! flopping onto the bed, you decided to take a small rest before dinner, in a few hours.

—

the next few days had been uneventful. you helped your aunt around the house, then stayed in your room upstairs, spending most of the time admiring the stark contrast in landscape here. it wasn’t until one day, when you were cutting tomatoes for lunch, that something happened.

“have you been around the town yet? there are some nice places to see,” your aunt asked casually. stopping to look out the window at the midday sun, you replied,

“i haven’t yet. have you got any recommendations?”

“oh, everywhere here’s nice!” she patted your shoulder as she passed you, carrying forks for the table. “tell you what. after lunch, you should walk around a bit! get some fresh air, it’ll be good for you too.”

humming in agreement, you went back to cutting tomatoes.

–

after a few hours of getting to know the countryside town, you came across a small river, connected on either side by an aged wooden bridge. on the other side of the bridge, there was a house, surrounded by fields and fields of crops– you assumed it was a farm.

but what was a farm doing in an isolated place like this?

your curiosity got the best of you– taking a cautious look at your surroundings, you crossed the wooden bridge.

“hello?” a voice rang out from somewhere around you.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion; you must’ve been hearing things.

but the voice spoke again, this time closer to you. “are you lost? i usually don’t see anyone around here,” it said, tapping on your shoulder. letting out a sudden yelp, you stumbled backwards.

“oh… sorry. i didn’t think anyone would be here,” you apologised, turning around to see who it was.

it was a boy– your age, probably, with straight white hair, but the tips were black– as if they were burnt, and his skin was just slightly tanned, probably from being in the sun. in some strange way, he felt like someone you’d known before, someone you knew very well. his face felt familiar, but you’d never seen him before.

hm. how come you didn’t hear his footsteps? you brushed it off quickly.

the boy laughed a little. “oh, no, don't worry about it. are you new around here?”

you chuckled nervously. “yeah, could you tell? i live in tokyo, but i’m staying here for the summer.”

“for the summer, huh..” he repeated, stepping back a little. “you’re from the city? that must be…”

“different?” you said at the same time as him. he looked a little surprised, but he dismissed it quickly.

“it’s different, all right. not used to seeing fields and farmhouses like these around,” you commented, taking moments to gaze at the scenery around you. “do you live here?”

the boy laughed again. “yeah, i do.” walking towards the hose, he said, “hey, you’re interesting. i could show you around if you want?” following behind him, you replied, “that’d be great! i’m [name], by the way.” “oh, i’m kita. kita shinsuke– feel free to call me shinsuke or shin, i don’t mind.”

–

one thing turned into another, and now you were helping kita harvest one of the rice fields. despite it being difficult, he somehow made it look effortless, like he was just lifting up a few feathers. it was attractive— in some strange way. as the sun hit its highest point in the sky, the heat poured down on you two, and the sun made kita’s figure glow. turning to look at you, he explained how to do it. “so, you grab it here, and then cut it as low as you can get to the roots.” hesitating a little, you took hold of a handful of rice plants from their middle and went to cut the roots. “like this?”

“yep– just,” kita put his hand over yours and moved it down a little. as he did, he moved a little closer to you subconsciously. he smelled like the rice fields– earthy, warm, and slightly sweet; you held your breath when you felt his breath fan on your shoulder.

“-like that.” he finished.

“okay, so now i,” you let out the breath you were holding earlier. “just… cut it? like that?” you asked, while cutting off the roots.

kita took hold of the crops and beat them on the side of the basket before putting them in. “you’re a natural, [name], have you done this before?”

watching what he did, you went to cut another bunch. “i haven’t, no. and im sure im not that good,” you replied, embarrassed.

–

slowly, you got into a rhythm, and kita started conversing with you a little more.

“so, what’s it like? the city, i mean,” he looked at you.

feeling his eyes on yours, you blushed a little. “different. really different. i mean here, there’s a lot more… green, whereas over there, everything is just buildings and buildings…”

kita focused on the crops again. “oh. so what do you do over there?”

“oh, usually i just go on my phone, or something– there’s not much to do,” you replied, finding it a little boring just talking about your life. “so, shin, what’s it like living here? is it not lonely?”

after hearing his name, kita’s head perked up. “hm? oh,” he looked a little embarrassed.

“oh, should i not call you that? sorry.” “no it’s fine! im just.. not used to hearing it much, thats all. it gets lonely here sometimes, but it’s alright.” kita replied, banging the plants on the basket again.

it had been a good few hours, and you were getting tired. you stepped back from the line of crops, and kita did soon after.

“that’s so tiring! how do you do that all day?” exasperated, you asked. “doesn’t it get hot?”

kita sighed, and wiped the sweat off his forehead– it was causing his bangs to stick. you thought it was cute.

“it does get tiring. hey– i know a place where there’s some shade,” running the first few steps, he looked back to see if you were following. “if you wanted?”

–

the place kita was talking about was a flower field, not too far from the farms. in the corner was a tree, its branches big enough to span over the entire field. resting on the trunk, kita sat down– you flopped onto the grass next to him.

“it’s nice having someone my age here, finally,” kita said. up until now, you didn’t realise how pretty his voice was. it was calming, and gentle; you could listen to it all day.

“hmm? same here, i thought i was gonna be alone,” you laughed– kita laughed with you.

resting his head on the massive trunk, he continued, “doesn’t help you’re really pretty too. feels like im like, teaching a princess, or something.”

hearing that, your heart suddenly skipped– the heat did well to hide your flushed cheeks.

“if it helps,” you started, just loud enough for kita to hear, “i think you’re pretty too. and really sweet– im glad im not alone this summer,” flashing a short smile, you closed your eyes and soaked in the moment.

it was comfortable, lying with kita here.

–

you quickly fell into a routine during the summer– it was the same thing every day, but it felt different each time over. you’d help your aunt and chat with her up till lunch, then you’d meet kita and hang out with him until the sun started to set. your feelings towards him only blossomed more over the course of the holidays– like a flower bud. you two would talk about anything and everything, or just lie next to each other, basking in the sunlight. whenever you crossed the little wooden bridge, you felt lighter on your feet, as if you were in a fantasy land. and to be honest– that’s what it was like– you’d come to the country for the summer and fallen in love with a boy who lived in a completely different world to you. the farms were almost like a time capsule, stuck in the simpler, pre-industrial world.

sometimes, you thought about leaving everything behind for kita, but you knew better. you knew your family were waiting for you back home, and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave them behind for a boy you just met– you knew even kita’d say no.

so, you surrendered to the ever-moving, fleeting nature of time.

and soon, it came time to leave.

–

today was your last day seeing kita. you were waiting underneath the same tree, staring out at the endless flower fields.

“hey,” you heard kita from behind you. this time, you didn’t get scared. turning around, you studied his features one last time.

“hi.” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him properly– it just brought tears to your eyes.

gently grabbing hold of your chin, kita lifted your head to look at him. “don’t cry, please, you’ll make me cry,” he said, his voice softer than usual. using both hands, you held onto his arm.

“i know, i know but…” your voice came out a little choked, small sobs making their way through. “i’m gonna miss you, shin,” you whispered, your voice cracking a little.

letting go of your chin, he closed the distance between you two with a hug. you just sobbed into his shoulder.

“i’ll never forget you, shin,” you said, muffled.

“me neither.” he broke the hug to give you something.

“here, that photo we took during the sunset. i printed two out so that we could both keep one.” taking one, you put it in your phonecase. “thank you,” you managed to say before your aunt rang you on your phone.

you both knew this was it. the flower field here would forever hold your memories together, even when you were apart. taking one last look at the field, and then at kita, you walked off. if you said anything now, you wouldn’t be able to handle it– you both knew that.

kita whispered under his breath, “i’ll see you later, my love.” having barely heard what he said, you looked back to ask, but he had already disappeared.

–

in the car ride to the train station, you made conversation with your aunt.

“thank you for letting me stay for so long, i had such a good time.”

she laughed. “sure, feel free to come back whenever you want. did you make any friends?”

friends– you thought of kita. smiling, you answered,

“yes i did– the boy who lives in the farmhouses?”

your aunt looked confused. “[name], there aren’t any farmhouses around here. maybe it’s some other house? did you get his name?” confused, you carried on describing to her. “the farmhouses across the bridge…” pausing, your aunt replied again. “oh, those.. no one’s lived in those for years now…” she sighed. “there was a boy your age a few years ago, but he died of tubercolosis. poor boy…”

you blinked rapidly. kita wasn’t— what was he?

a ghost? it kind of made sense; his white hair, his lack of presence, and how the world felt… surreal on the other side of the bridge.

but the feelings you felt were real. when he hugged you, it was real. there was something there between you two— a pure love, seemingly powerful enough to transcend time. it didn’t make sense to you; but all that mattered was those moments.

he said to you, “i’ll remember this forever,” but it seemed it was just you who remembered. and you’d hold onto this summer forever.

note first longfic EVER (longfic = >1.5k okay) oh my gosh. why do i actually kinda like this..... @phantasmaebg

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ like what you read? here’s the masterlist! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

#twisha's an author💌#kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #haikyuu kita #kita shinsuke #hq kita #inarizaki #kita x you

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