#anyway I probably missed something I’m just typing this on my phone at work to spit out all my feelings

[sealer-of-wenkamui]

Heian-kyo Thoughts

First I think this is one of my favorite chapters yet, no doubt because of my biases, though that means I’m better able to point out my complaints with it too. I was super hyped for it the whole time! As this is my thoughts it will mostly be focused on my interests namely Limbo and Danzou

The setup for this chapter was perfect, one of the most well done things about it, most of my complaints actually stem from that I think they could have taken better advantage of it. Limbo creating a singularity and planning a grail war for the purpose of establishing a lostbelt with them as its god, and it reflects what they learned from Shimousa? Yeah that’s good! And best of all! Inviting ONLY the master of Chaldea who keeps interfering (we wouldn’t have a plot if we weren’t invited too lol) and Danzou, who has been an obvious object of their fixation since then! Blocking even Mash and Kotarou (and making sure they KNEW it was him doing it)

Furthermore, after establishing contact with Chaldea it’s further established that this not for the purpose of defeating us or anything, but rather for Limbo to toy with us and I quote “indulge in his…. proclivities”. So you have it known that he’s doing this for his own pleasure, and what does he do? Invite the one who has been getting in his way, and his favorite toy from Shimousa of course!

This line from Seimei at the end made me laugh cause YEAH. That’s exactly it and it shows in Limbo as well. I have been saying all this time that he doesn’t hold affection for Danzou, but absolutely has a weird fixation with her. That manifests in trying to cause her and specifically her as much suffering as possible. Even restoring her memories is to make the pain he can inflict greater. Her interlude apparently further goes into it but I sadly don’t have her yet so I haven’t seen it myself yet (I’ll probably break down and watch it online soon lol it’s too relevant to me not to)

On the flip side this setup also means she has the chance to settle the score with him, and of all people she’s the one who is most fitting to do so. Limbo has manipulated plenty, and caused pain to countless others too, but the difference is with Danzou he has that fixation not present in say, Amakusa or Junao, or any of the Crypters, not to mention that she was directly under his control from the moment he repaired her, and once she turns on him, he makes her fight the people she now cares about and then blows her up. And the end goal wasn’t anything other than tormenting her unlike the other cases. His fixation means she has been the most intimately hurt by him and so this setup in Heian-kyo both further emphasizes this fixation as well as giving her the chance to strike back. Just a god-tier setup right there!! And I like Limbo here giving their evil villain speech to introduce the grail war, complete with creepy ways to refer to Danzou

And now knowing he is “Ashiya Douman” the living Douman is brought up as well, who I think is another one of the most interesting parts of the chapter. (Of course he had already been consumed by Limbo at this point too but it’s being hidden so it’s probably a good reflection of what he’s like..?) I kinda wish we got to see at least a little more of him (like the confrontation between him and Limbo sounds especially good the way they described it). Cause they’re not an evil person at all, nor do they want to be, but they do have their deep flaws and like…

He acts like he’s okay with this, and being treated as the villain, but I highly doubt it, his fixation with Seimei is the most famous one of all. And Limbo even takes advantage of that to break him.

Anyway for the main grail war section, I liked seeing some familiar faces and it did get me to care about them all the more, and Tsuna and especially Kintoki get good arcs across the whole chapter. Shuten is always a delight for me too lol, she’s great. And you can see how it reflects what Limbo was researching in Shimousa. The main thing I wished for here is at least some of what was going on with Limbo, or perhaps them toying with their guests a little more directly…? This is his entertainment so I wanna see them enjoying it.

The turning point was really exciting and got me hyped, also I LOVE that art for it

And this here is SO GOOD I wanted to see it, more human Douman please! He’s so fascinating in how someone like Limbo could be born from him and yet he barely appears!

The second part… I think could really have benefitted from being longer? Especially the parts about Kagekiyo and Ibuki, they show up then are gone in 2 sections, and I was pretty interested in them, especially Kagekiyo, so I would have liked more on them… and once again, Limbo is taking a more active role and establishing the tree, but there wasn’t enough showing their thoughts or toying with us more.

The final section had some both REALLY GOOD stuff as well as wasted opportunities. One thing I had liked is that Danzou tended to be the most outspoken against Limbo throughout the chapter, which of course is fitting with their history even if she didn’t personally remember Shimousa. The first direct confrontation was good, he’s calling her his puppet, she’s the one who seems most angry with him, he’s being his delightfully over the top evil self, it’s great!

Ibuki should have been in the chapter more but him just being like oh yeah I lied I’m gonna become a god instead was good lol

I also love that he’s unable to become a Beast because of a lack of love for humanity, which makes sense, and it’s a fascinating part of him, he fixates on people but it’s not affection.

But the thing I was annoyed about here is that Danzou and Limbo don’t really say much to each other….? She’s a major object of their fixation and she’s been so deeply hurt by him yet not much from either side? Why…. I knew my hopes of him tormenting her in some scene framed a highly sexual way was getting my hopes up, but the game has always been good about emphasizing this relationship in the past so I was disappointed there wasn’t something involving him attempting to inflict pain on her specifically… or really any sort of toying around with his guests? It’s the whole point of this so I wanted more of him doing exactly that….(you had machine destroying insect shikigami right there come on, so many ways to toy with his favorite doll, give me something)

On the plus side though, I’m delighted she was the one to finish him off, if he had to die, this is exactly how it should be.

The one who had been most personally hurt by Limbo getting to deal the finishing blow on him is perfect. It’s satisfying, it’s closure for her, it’s just GOOD!!

As for the aftermath, the scene with human Douman right here is one of the best parts of the chapter, I adored it, I cried a bit even…

Perhaps he’s the one hurt most by this whole incident… coming face to face with the embodiment of the evil dwelling within him, of what he fears becoming, and breaking down weeping once freed, and nearly killing himself knowing it’s a potential future for him. (Honestly I think Seimei is kinda an ass to him lol I mean oh I thought you wouldn’t fall to Limbo as an excuse for not trying to help him?? He’s terrified of that potential and Limbo struck him at his weakest point, that fixation with Seimei)

And finally, I wish Danzou got some sort of epilogue section, most people did, and it would have been nice to see her reflecting on being rid of Limbo, either by herself or with Kotarou….

And for some final words on Limbo, I love that he gets extra my room lines after finishing, unsurprisingly YEAH it’s Limbo, and he even remembers everything, which is uh, quite the situation! When it comes down to it, I think what Da Vinci said in the opening puts it well,

I don’t think his evil is even subconsciously trying to help anyone or anything like that. It’s a genuine wish for destruction but it’s also rather pitiful…. His whole thing with Seimei probably doesn’t help with seeing no worth in even himself too. Like at the end he’s right back to yelling out at Seimei

And he’s quite a fascinating character for it too, having someone so truly evil, but having originated from an “ordinary onmyouji” who feared becoming old that. Someone who is a “monsterous rakshasa devoid of love”, and I don’t think anyone can magically make him ~love~ but like… it’s interesting to me how someone who CANT love in any way has these fixations on people, and what they’re like as a result (which is why I’m especially interested in his thing with Danzou, it captures that aspect of them well) Best you could hope for I think is them maybe seeing some sliver of worth in things…? They’re both comically evil and also complex in their own right and that’s why I love them so much, I’m really gonna miss them showing up to toy with us all!

TLDR- Heian-kyo GOOD, godly setup that could have been utilized more especially when it came to Limbo and Danzou’s interactions (why wasn’t there more?). Best possible way for Limbo to die and I love human Douman a lot too and he makes his character all the more interesting.

[doromoni]

Off Time | LN4

Ships : Lando Norris x F1 Presenter! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Subtags : She fell first; He fell harder, Misunderstanding, Mutual Pinning

A/N: Bruh this is so self indulgent! FYI~ I made this during my internship time (I was literally doing nothing). So heree enjoyyy ig?

Summary : You have pursued Lando’s affection, yet he doesn’t seem interested. Till your patience wavers and Lando realizes it too late. Will there be a right time for the two of you?

Masterlist

Part 2

It was another season of Formula 1 on the Silverstone track, the paddock was buzzing with excitement and cameras flashing as the drivers arrived one by one.

You were patiently waiting by the entrance of the paddock club eagerly looking for the family that loved you like their own. You promised them that you’ll see and spend time with the Norrises first before your busy schedule fully takes over and renders you unavailable for the rest of the weekend. It was expected considering that your line of work requires you with a mic and a camera on you at all times.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, probably your boss Mia giving you orders on your next driver interview, and as you checked — you were right. Oh! It was at Mercedes with George. You were in the middle of replying to your boss when you suddenly felt arms wrap around your waist with force enough to make the both of you stumble for balance.

“Y/N! I missed you~ did you bring my stroopwaffles?” You were suddenly engulfed and bombarded by the youngest Norris sibling.

“Yes, Flo . Its at the hotel and I missed you too. Babe, I saw the horse show on video. You were amazing!” you exclaimed proudly as you hugged the younger girl back.

Your eyes then softened as you gazed at Adam and Cisca. They were smiling from ear to ear waiting for their turn for a hug.

“Hi, guys!” You finally said as Flo released you from her clutches and the Elder Norrises hugged you in one big group hug.

“Hi, darling. It’s so nice to see you again. Don’t get me wrong dear you’re amazing on TV — I just prefer to see you in person” Cisca comes at you as she pushes her husband aside to gather you alone in her arms; squeezing you.

“ Honey, let the poor girl breathe.” Adam Norris lovingly reprimanded his wife as he placed his hand on your head and messed with your hair.

You giggled at the family’s antics. Your eyes wandered around the area and you couldn’t help but look, hoping to see Lando’s presence nearby— hoping to have a chat or something.

The Elder Norris couple saw you looking around, probably looking for their son and they couldn’t help but feel awful for you.

“I’m sorry sweetie, Lando said that he’s running a bit late. We should go on ahead”

“Oh, yes of course. Shall we? I need to show you my office, I just got promoted!” You said trying to hide your disappointment with the achievement you got.

They knew that you liked their boy, and they were so happy about it. They would do anything to have you in the family. They just hoped that their son would finally clean his act up and see the amazing girl that was in front of him before it was too late.

As you walked through the paddock with Flo’s arm draped around yours, you couldn’t stop thinking about the British McLaren Driver.

He didn’t hate you, he didn’t hold anything against you— he just was… indifferent. Lando Norris didn’t like you the way that you did. Lando wasn’t interested, not in a romantic relationship type of way anyway. Or that’s what you concluded considering that for the past months of trying to shoot your shot, you were always turned down by the English Mclaren Driver.

His fellow drivers and best mates had always supported your attempts to pursue Lando. They said that you would be good for him, that you and Lando made sense. They knew that you would make him happy.

You met his family by chance and it bloomed when you saved them from being hounded by the press during the race where their son crashed; this resulted in a thank-you dinner and the rest was history.

His dad had loved you and wanted you in the family — so much that you were invited to intimate family gatherings and outings. His mom cherished your times together inside the kitchen, bonding over shared recipes and coffee dates. While his younger sister ran to you for comfort and advice. You were practically a Norris at this point.

However, the Norris sibling that held your fancy wanted nothing to do with you. To him, you were the family friend and the commentator from Sky F1. You were just a distant friend at best and for you that was enough.

Your mind was preoccupied with dazzling green eyes, the head of full curly hair, and now a blemish on his nose from a cut that you found most attractive on him. Your thoughts were fully circling Lando Norris and you didn’t realize that it was time to say goodbye to Adam, Cisca, and Flo.

“Ok guys, I need to work. I’ll find you when I can, alright?” You sulked as you dropped the Norrises off in front of Mclaren’s Motorhome. They said their goodbyes with hugs and cheek kisses. As you were leaving and them stepping inside the doors of McLaren — you were so sure that you saw the mop of curly hair that belonged to Lando Norris.

And you knew deep down that Lando was there the entire time and he just didn’t want to talk to you if not necessary. Knowing that information hurt you tremendously, but you continued to smile nevertheless.

***

Inside the McLaren Motorhome, just as you left, there stood Lando Norris clad in a black hoodie and sweats waiting for his family to enter. Yet his eyes lingered on the girl who seemed to catch his family’s affection like a bear to honey.

“Mum, Dad, Flo! How have you been?” Lando exclaimed as he hugged his family one by one.

“What is it, mum?” Lando asked his mother as soon as he spotted the disapproval on her face

“You said that you’ll be late, why are you inside the motorhome then?” Cisca’s eyes narrowed at her son.

Lando’s eyes shifted away from his mum, he didn’t like to lie to his parents. Rather to be quiet than lie.

“You know why, plus I’m thinking of dating someone else so please stop pushing Y/N to me,” Lando said somewhat indignantly.

“Son, Y/N is an amazing girl. Anyone would be lucky to have her. We just don’t want you to regret anything” His father explained pointedly however still gentle.

“Listen, I know that you love having her around. But, I just don’t fancy her like that. “ Lando languidly explained to his family his feelings for the commentator for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“Lando, I love you, but you’re being stupid. Maybe Y/N could be better off with someone other than you” Flo mutters with her lips pouted out as she pulls her parents further into the motorhome, not bothering to wait for what seems to be a frozen Lando.

Lando knew to himself that he didn’t like you. He was sure of it. Then why does the thought of you with someone else make his stomach churn and his blood boil?

He pictured you aiming your beautiful smile towards another man. Lando imagined you riding in another man’s car and being your attentive and caring self. A memory of you doing the same to him came to his mind.

You were seated in the passenger seat of his Mclaren, the sound of the Japanese house’s “Sunshine Baby” slowly playing in the background as the three of you cruised through the streets of Bristol, while Flo was dozing off in the backseat. Everything was peaceful and calm as Lando drummed his hand to the beat. The drizzle of rain slowly pelted on the windshield, adding to the calmness.

“What song is this?” Lando suddenly asked you, catching you off guard. His eyes then met yours and held your gaze.

“Oh! It’s Sunshine Baby by the Japanese House. You like it?” You asked back, reluctance was evident in your voice.

“Mhmm, It’s very calming. I mostly listen to house music and EDM… something calm is great. Do have other recommendations?” Lando conversed with a smile on his face, his eyes meeting yours once again before looking back to the road.

“I have an entire playlist! Give me your phone” You showed Lando your palm gesturing for his phone.

As Lando hands his phone to you, Flo wakes from her sleep and demands food on the way.

“Lando I want food. Y/N please buy me food” The younger Norris pouted at you and his brother.

“What do you want to eat, Babe?” You asked Flo when you saw Lando nod in approval.

“Fish and Chips!” Flo exclaimed with enthusiasm. You saw the look of apprehension of the British Driver but he didn’t say anything— only silently drove to the nearest fry shop instead.

“I’ll be back with food.” You spoke as you went to grab your wallet. Lando was handing his card, but you only grinned at the driver then sticking your tongue out as you exited the vehicle.

“I got this covered London boy!” You teased, earning a laugh from both the Norris siblings.

The food didn’t take too long and before you knew it you were back inside the slick Mclaren as the smell of grease and salt wafting the air.

“Ohhhh, that smells amazing~ did you get us all Fish and Chips, Y/N?” Flo asked as she moved to get her food.

“Babe, Your brother doesn’t like fish. So I bought Chicken and Chips for him instead. While you and I get fish” You replied as you gave Flo her food and drink.

“You got me food too and it’s not fish?” Lando asked you with a look of both admiration and a bit of confusion.

“Mhm, you hate fish, right? So chicken it is!” You smiled at the McLaren Driver as you popped the straw in his diet soda and handed it to him.

You were always thoughtful and sweet to everyone, but Lando saw that you were especially so with Him and his family —you remembered every detail.

An uncomfortable sensation settled on his chest as Lando saw in his mind you sharing the bond you had with his family with the family of your other half.

“Lando! Come on” His train of thought was disturbed by the shouts of his dad. However, the feeling of stuffiness remained.

***

You were walking through the paddock towards Ferrari when you walked into Alexandra and Rebecca along the way. The two wags were sweet and inviting, despite their lives of luxury and glamour; their humility shined especially Charles’ girlfriend.

While you were friendly with Rebecca — you didn’t have anything that connected you other than Carlos Sainz. You always felt a bit of tension with the girl, on her part of course. Maybe because of your close relationship with Carlos, jealousy was a feeling you understood well, so you didn’t hold it against the girl. However, with Alex, Alex just like Flo has found solace in your presence in the paddock. You were the first of the few who welcomed her with smiles and open arms when she first started appearing in races; solidifying your bond with the art graduate.

And so Alexandra was the very first to advise you on the news that ultimately breaks your heart.

“Y/N, I heard from Kika that Lando has been going on dates with a girl named Magui for a couple of weeks now and she says that the girl would be coming to the races in the very near future” Alex gently said as she clutched your arms tighter around hers— offering comfort.

Your breath was caught in your throat and you didn’t know how to reply without bursting into tears.

You thought after Luisinha you had a chance or at least to be closer with the driver. But with rumors swimming around about him dating this Portuguese model with a checkered dating past, your chances grow slimmer and slimmer.

Maybe you were kidding yourself for hoping for Lando to reciprocate your feelings. Maybe you were being overly optimistic when everyone said that Lando would come around. Maybe the best was just to give up.

Maybe it was time to truly let go of Lando Norris.

***

It was impossible to miss each other in the paddock, one way or another Lando and Y/N crossed paths.

It was almost routine for Lando to hear your voice calling out his name as you waved your hand in greeting. A sweet smile was always ready for him.

That’s why shock and bewilderment overcame Lando as you walked past him as if he wasn’t even there. No greeting, no smile, not even a brief eye contact.

You went past the driver as if he weren’t there. As you continued to walk away, Lando couldn’t help but look at your retreating form with hurt— he looked wounded by your indifference.

He then heard your sweet voice calling out a name, but this time it wasn’t his— it was his teammates' name. “Oscar!” You bellowed at the Australian Driver; with a smile that Lando wished was directed at him.

***

It has been a month with Y/N’s interactions with Lando at a standstill. And at this point Lando cannot deny that it drove him mad, that you drove him mad.

He was no longer in denial about his feelings for you. He fully accepted it and he wanted you back. Lando Norris liked you the way you did.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Boyfriend!Bangchan x F!Reader TW : slight angst ; short but sweet and fluffy at the end ; Word Count : 1.3k Request : @kurolils : I just want something really really angsty w chan. so just maybe like, he's supper stressed and snaps at the reader and yk something very angsty, but obviously with a fluffy ending A/N : THIS TOOK FOREVER TO GET TO AND I'M SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT BUT I"M WRITING IT NOW!!! HIHIHI!!!

Preparing for a world tour, as exciting as it seems, was probably just as stressful, if not more stressful than working on an album, at least for Chan it was. He had to work on remembering all of the dances for the entire setlist, he had to think of what he’d say to all the STAYS, he had to remember all the lyrics to all the songs. There was so much to do, and it felt like there wasn’t enough time to get it all done. 

The date of his departure for the first international part of the tour was quickly closing in, and of course, management was still against you going with him considering the news hadn’t broken yet that the two of you were dating. That was the hardest part of leaving for tours. He was leaving you behind, and while you were an absolute champ about it on the surface, he could read right through you and tell that you were upset. 

That’s why he tried to spend as much time with you as possible before he had to leave, that’s what he usually did. He wasn’t sure why things felt more stressful than usual this time around, he wasn’t sure why it felt like the clock was working against him this entire time. All he did know was that there was so much to get done, and he didn’t need any distractions, he didn’t need anyone getting in his way. 

“Still working, huh?” You said from the doorway, your hands shoved into the pockets of one of Chans oversized hoodies. He hummed in response, his eyes not even glancing up from the laptop screen as he sat at his desk. His headphones were on, but at least he had one ear uncovered so he could hear you. “I know you have to leave in a couple days… I was just wondering if you wanted to watch a movie with me or something? I really miss you already and… Just wanted to spend some time with you-” 

“Shut up.” Chan mumbled, and your lips quickly pulled into a thin line, your eyes dropping to the ground, both embarrassed and upset from those two simple words. “As if I don’t have enough on my plate, now I’m expected to stop everything I’m doing to coddle you because you’re going to miss me. I mean… good god, Y/N, grow up. I’m not always going to be here, get used to watching movies by yourself. Damn.” He huffed before adjusting his headphones so that both ears were covered. 

You didn’t even know what to say, you didn’t have anything to say anyway, you were trying not to cry, so you kept your head low and turned around, shutting the door behind you as you made your way to the couch. It’s not like you hadn’t seen Chan stressed before, it’s just that most of the time you were the one that would get him out of his funk. Now it seemed like you were the one stressing him out even more. 

The rest of the day went by without any sort of interaction between the two of you. He’d leave the room to go to the bathroom or grab something to eat or drink, and then he’d quickly retreat back to his desk. You spent the evening sitting on the couch watching movies by yourself and scrolling through your phone to try to keep your mind off of what had happened. 

You had made dinner, and not even the smell of a home-cooked meal had pulled him out from the bedroom, so you made enough for yourself before saving the leftovers in the fridge and eating all alone at the table. You made sure to clean it all before heading to the bathroom and washing up before going to bed. You thought that maybe at some point he would come out and apologize or something, but he didn’t. If it weren’t for the sound of keyboard typing and his mouse clicking rapidly it would feel like he wasn’t there at all. 

The bed didn’t feel as empty as most people would assume it would feel, but that’s only because Chan rarely joined you in bed before you dozed off. The only difference is that this time you wondered if he’d join you at all. Would you feel the bed shift with his weight as he finally got under the covers at the crack of dawn or would he opt to sleep on the couch instead? 

Your mind was full of thoughts, some good, some bad, most of them were bad though, and these were the thoughts that filled your subconscious, the thoughts that fueled your dreams tonight. He was getting tired of you. He thought you were annoying. You were a burden to him. All of these negative emotions played out in the most realistic scenarios in your dreams, and they felt so real in fact, that when you woke up, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. The emotions were overwhelming, that feeling of being unwanted by the only person you wanted was devastating. 

You didn’t know how late it was or how early it was, and you had been sleeping so deeply that you hadn’t even felt Chan come into the room and get into the bed. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He whispered, having not even fallen asleep yet when you jumped up. Your sniffles were quiet, but in the silence of the room they sounded so loud. 

“You don’t love me anymore…” Your whisper was choked out, and the sob that followed was heartbreaking for him to hear. He knew that he had been quite harsh and honestly, rather heartless when he had spoken to you earlier. That’s why he had kept his distance for the remainder of the day. He thought that that was what you’d needed, but he had been horribly wrong. “I’m… I’m annoying… and distracting…” 

“Shh… baby, no…” Chan cooed, sitting up in the bed beside you and wrapping his arm around you to pull you against his side. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I was just stressed… I’ve got so much to do and… I shouldn’t take that out on you. It’s not your fault.” He used his other hand to turn on the lamp on the nightstand, and when he did he could see the tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “I’m an asshole, aren’t I?” 

You weakly nodded your head before resting it against his shoulder. “I don’t like watching movies by myself. That’s our thing… It was really lonely without you.” You mumbled, fiddling with the tag that hung off the blanket. “Am I too clingy? Do you want me to leave you alone?” You asked, and your body tensed up just enough for him to notice. You didn’t want to hear the answer, you were scared of it. 

“Of course not! You cling to me just the right amount.” He joked, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when you looked up at him with unamused eyes and a slight pout on your lips. “I love that you always want me around, it makes me feel loved. I don’t ever want you to leave me alone, because I don’t like watching movies by myself either. I’m not mad at you, I never was, and I never could be. So let’s get some sleep, I’ll have Changbin and Ji handle the rest of the setlist for the tour, and we can have a date day, the whole day tomorrow. You get my undivided attention. You deserve it.” His finger slid under your chin to tilt your head up, pressing his lips to yours, just long enough to have you melting against him and your mind clearing of any and every thought. “And just so you know… I already miss you too… And I miss you way more.”

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[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR EIGHTEEN

in which eddie shows you deftones, texts are missed and calls are answered, and lines are crossed once more for good measure.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, light dry humping?, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

18:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

Steve-O: rise and shine, campers! time to get back at it with these wellness checks. gonna need some proof you two are still alive.

HOUR EIGHTEEN - 9:00 AM 

Eddie’s eyes narrow in concentration at your phone as his thumbs fly across the screen, navigating the Spotify app with ease to find the Deftones song he specifically wants. He doesn’t do as you had and go to their artist page – he searches with purpose, in no mood to scroll through albums to find the song he’s looking for. 

“I still don’t understand how you can type so fast,” you mumble, watching with fascination that you try to tamper down with faux boredom, “Even I can’t type that fast, and I own the damn thing.” 

He doesn’t even glance up as he scrolls along the screen, finding the song and clicking on it, “I’m just good with my fingers.” 

There it goes. The air from your lungs, once again vacating the premises as he freezes beside you. 

It isn’t fair. An internal whine that nearly works itself up your throat and out your mouth, making you want to stomp your feet like a child. You hadn’t even recovered from the casual drop of baby yet. And now he’s going to just say that? 

“Oh, God, I-” he’s looking up finally, eyes wide and stuttering with embarrassment, “Fuck, I swear to God, I did not mean that as an innuendo.” 

You open your mouth. You close it. You repeat the process. You’re fucking speechless and it’s a little bit embarrassing. 

“I’m serious!” he persists when you don’t reply, and only stare at him in continued shock, “Seriously! I- Fuck, I was referring to with my job. At the autoshop. I’m- Fuck,” he cuts his explanation off, dragging a hand over his face and falling back into the couch, “Kill me. Kill me now, please – and be sure to make it quick and painless, pretty please.” 

You finally laugh. It’s a bit choked, a bit strangled, but it instantly has Eddie lowering his hand. 

“I think if we were going to kill each other, Munson, it would have happened hours ago,” you try to tease him, but something about the sentiment comes out far softer than you intended. Like it’s not a joke. Like, in your own odd way, you’re trying to whisper a truth to him – everything has changed for me now. 

“Probably,” he sighs, relaxing a bit and leaning back beside you as he looks to the phone once more and clicks on a song, “Proba-fucking-ly.” 

For the first two songs, there is a distance to be kept between the two of you. You peek at the screen and catch the titles – Cherry Waves and Sextape – and make a mental categorization of which one you enjoy more. You nearly audibly snort at Sextape, but manage to keep your immature humor to yourself. You prefer Cherry Waves, anyways. 

  The songs that follow become a bit of a blur. Because for the first two, the distance existed. You can focus on the guitar and the vocals and the bass drum and everything except the man sitting beside you. But then song three comes on. 

Fucking song three. You don’t catch the name, but it might be your favorite yet. Or you might be biased. 

Because it’s during this third song that something changes. Eddie is no longer content in just leaning back beside you, in letting you consume the new music in a sort of solitude that was impressive to achieve when not actually alone. You first notice his restlessness in the bounce of his knee, shaking beside yours as he finally puts the phone down on the coffee table rather than balanced on his thigh. You don’t comment on it, you let it slide. You faux indifference. But then, the flexing of his hand starts.

It’s odd. Sure, plenty of people mess with their hands in relation to nerves, but you’ve never seen it happen like that before. The slow stretch of him pushing his fingers to their limits before retracting them, bending his knuckles as he tucks the tips in. The veins along the top of his hand popping exceptionally. 

“I’m just good with my fingers.”

I fucking bet he is. 

You curse yourself for the warmth that burns in the pit of your stomach. Focus. You should be focusing on the music, on taking in what he’s sharing with you. 

Not on his hands. Specifically his fingers, and how good they’d feel-

Fucking stop it. Cut it out. No. 

It takes an ungodly amount of willpower for you to look away, but you manage it. Unfortunately, what you don’t manage to do is ignore the bouncing of his leg. You don’t manage to extinguish that burning that he’s begun in you — a fire started from his kindle. 

Impulsive. Impulsive, and a little stupid, and endlessly daring. That’s what it is when you finally reach out a hand to land on his knee midsong. 

The shaking immediately ceases, and you take over the soothing motions as you let your thumb initially rub in arcs against the side of his thigh. With each strum of the guitar that rings out, you let your thumb complete its semicircle motion. With each pounding of drums, you give a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t say a word about it, and neither do you. Especially when he drops his hand over yours, wiggling his fingers between yours with the failure of a casual grace. You try not to smile as you flip your hand and let him properly intertwine them.

Flexing, but this time, it’s to squeeze your palm to his. You still think about those goddamn fingers.

“So, what do you think so far?” Eddie asks after he clears his throat.

“They’re good,” you nod, finding yourself shuffling subconsciously closer to him now that he’s gripping onto your hand, “Really good.” 

“I’m just good with my fingers.”

You know that he’s more than just good. Just like Deftones, you’d dare say he’s really good. 

The song switches, and both of you have scooted close enough to one another that your thighs press together. Shoulder to shoulder, sharing enough space to feel his breath on the side of your bare neck. 

His grip on your hand tightens.

You want the opposite. You suddenly want his hand to detach from yours and to find home on your cheeks, hands on either side of your face before he’s pulling you into him, throwing caution and formality to the wind. You two have already crossed that line; why was it so hard to take that leap once more? 

The song is still playing. You don’t recognize the tinny guitars that are on the loop of repeating the same notes, an echo effect of sorts layered over them. 

It’s just the guitar. And suddenly, the rasps of Eddie’s breaths are something your acutely aware of. Like he’s closer, like he’s letting his head tilt even closer to you. You feel that heat transferring between your biceps that are smashed together, not even thin layers of t-shirt or the sleeve of the crew neck able to stop it. 

It all happens suddenly.

The guitar pauses and Eddie’s hand loosens in yours. Your heart races, and you realize you’re preparing yourself for what he’s doing before he’s even sprung into action. 

Kiss me, the sigh you let out whispers.

It’s answered by the song, and by Eddie. A combination of the two that you can’t differentiate. 

The silence in the song is cut off by whimpers. One from the lead singer on the track, one from Eddie. Both breathy, both shakey, both whispering of the loss of control.

“Fuck it.”

Two words. He says those two words again as his warning before he lets go of your hand and is reaching up, shifting your two bodies impossibly quick as his hands do exactly as you had craved. One on each cheek, and then he does it.

He kisses you.

It is neither kind nor gentle, despite the allusion that it might have been from the way he cradles your cheeks. The callouses on his fingers scrape your cheeks, you can feel every crack in his bottom lip as it slots between your own. It’s easy and quick work, the way your mouths can mold together so effortlessly. Tongues that were once so sharp as they’d spit venomous words at once another now meet and pass over teeth, blurring the lines of where you end and he begins — of where hatred ended and this began. 

Whatever it is, whatever it will be for these last few hours, whatever it will be once the clock runs out, you’re grateful. You, your vinery, your civility — they all scream their prayers of thanks as his hands drop from your cheeks and find your hips. You don’t even process that he’s tugging you onto his lap or that you’re letting him until it’s happened. Your thighs bracket his own hips, and he gives you no time before he’s pressing your full weight into him, hands clawing at you, desperate to keep you close. 

You can’t even hear the song anymore over the roar of your own heart.

“Baby,” he murmurs against your mouth, and you realize now what the price is. 

The price is your sanity. The price is a loss of control, and letting him consume you whole. A small price in the grand scheme of it all.

“I-“ you start a sentence that you have no idea of what the ending would be, but he interrupts with his mouth. The teeth your tongue had once met bite down on your lip and you swear you taste blood, swear you see crimson as he sighs out again into your open mouth. 

His hands guide your hips against his. A steady rhythm, and with only a few passes, you can feel him harden against you. Your pace picks up of your own doing, the friction of your panties and his pajama pants nudging your clit and leaving you breathless. 

What the fuck are we doing?

You should stop it. You should mind the delicate balance you two have been trying to achieve since you first crossed this line. 

You only push down harder on him, only bite down on his lip as he had yours. This time, blood might have honestly been drawn — the hiss that escapes him says it all. 

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he chastises you between kisses, “You want to know what was fucking wrong earlier? You. You are driving me insane, you are driving me straight into the fucking grave.” 

Oh.

Oh.

The way he had leapt up. His nervous energy. The way he had put as much space between the two of you as possible.

“I affect you that much?”

It is not a confident question — you completely pull away from him, leaning back as you breathe it out, hands finding home on his shoulders as you survey him.

He’s being honest. 

His pupils are wide but those brown, doe eyes have softened as they meet your gaze. His chest is heaving, his lips are already bruising pink as they fall apart so casually. 

He’s being honest. 

You affect him, you’re doing this to him — he’s caught up in flames, no sign of salt water in sight. 

“You always do,” he says, “Always have. Probably always will.” 

Your grip on his shoulders tighten. 

I could never hate you. 

How blind you had been. How absolutely, blissfully unaware you had been functioning all these months. 

A hand trails from its grip on his shoulders, fingers slipping over his bare collar bone, “What do you mea-“ 

You don’t get to finish the question or dig any deeper into the revelation. The music both of you had long since abandoned has been replaced by the ringing of your phone.

Eddie’s eyes immediately pinch shut, face twisting with irritation. You can’t tell if he’s more annoyed at the interruption due to whatever breakthrough you two were on the precipice of, or because he’s still painfully hard beneath you. But he quickly wraps one arm around your waist, tugging your torso flush to his as he leans forward quickly and reaches out to grab your phone. 

“Oh, what the fuck,” he huffs once his eyes are open again and he’s looking at your phone screen.

Your face has been pressed into the crook of his neck due to the current position and way he’s tightly holding you to him. You have no clue who it is, but you have five decent guesses to throw out. 

He answers for you. Sharply and bitterly, he snaps out a, “What do you want, Harrington?” 

Steve. One of the five guesses. Go figure.

“Yes, we’re fucking alive,” Eddie holds no patience for your friend, all the softness he’d held for you gone save for the stroke of his thumb against the bare small of your back, “We were-“ 

A pause. You wonder for a second if he is going to admit it. If right here, right now, he would confess to your friends what has happened. How he could never hate you, how you drive him insane, how by nothing changing that everything has changed.

“Sleeping.” 

An answer to your question. You hate your disappointment, and bite it down with vengeance. 

You can faintly hear Steve’s voice over the phone, not quite as trilling or pitched as Nancy’s or Robin’s. Eddie’s annoyance still rolls off of him in waves, and you imagine that you’d catch him rolling his eyes along with his little huffs of air if you were to finally lift your head from his neck. But you’re selfish, and his arm is still around you waist as it presses you tight to his chest, so you indulge yourself. You dig your nose deeper against the junction of his neck, you take in his lingering cologne and let the stray curls tickle your cheeks. 

You should have known he wouldn’t admit it.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie grumbles into the phone, barely getting out the repetitive word before his breath hitches as you pucker your lips against the skin you’ve been burrowing into. It’s only a chaste kiss, but it has its desired effect, “Okay, Harrington. We’ll send a fucking photo. You done?”

Then it hits you. A fun game, a distraction from your disappoint and a way to crawl under his skin all in one. You fight hard not to let a smile spread at the risk of him feeling it against his neck as you take a deep breath in through your nose, noticing the way his shoulder nearly reflexively lifts slightly as if it tickles, because you’re puckering your lips again.

The second chaste kiss is testing the waters. He doesn’t react. And so you go forth with your plan, mouth falling open, teeth grazing his jugular.

He reacts microscopically. His chest halts movement.

It’s not enough for you.

So you suck. Hard. Puckered lips and a vendetta to prove, you let your teeth bite at the skin that sucks into your mouth. 

That does the trick.

“O-Okay!” he yelps out in surprise, his hand bruising as he grips you harder. He tries to pull his neck back from you, but his hand only presses you down onto his lap and you feel his dick twitch beneath his thin pants, “Christ, Harrington. We fucking get it. We’ll send a photo. And we won’t sleep another wink, so bite me,“ he pants out as you move to the spot beneath his ear, finding where his jaw connects to his throat, repeating the process and doing exactly as he had told Steve. His hips buck up into you, “Okay, I’m hanging up now, Harrington. Bye.” 

You’re grinning wildly against his ear as he tosses your phone carelessly somewhere on the couch — or maybe the floor, you couldn’t tell at this point — before he’s flipping you down onto your back on the couch and hovering over you.

Your head falls back instinctually, leaving your neck open for him to begin an assault of kisses.

“Are-“ A kiss. “You-“ A bite. “Fucking-“ A soothing lathe of tongue over the bite. “Kidding-“ A harsh suck. “Me.”

You writhe beneath him, but he’s pressing his entire weight down onto you, hips slotted between yours and one hand  pinning both your wrists to the cushion above as the other stays glued to your waist. 

“Did you think that was funny?” he breathes out against you, letting the tip of his nose barely graze over the base of your throat, “Doing that shit while I was trying to talk Harrington down from that damn ledge?” 

“Why was he on the ledge to begin with?” you breathily question, trying to move your hands from his grasp, the urge to run your fingers through his curls growing. He only tightens his hold.

“Apparently,” he pauses and presses a quick kiss at the edge of the sweatshirt collar, looking up at you through his bangs and lashes, “He had texted, and we didn’t respond. Photos are back in demand.” 

“We’re quite the commodity,” you try to joke, avoiding his gaze. Trying to avoid the softness buried deep inside there, all soft and melted in shades of brown, “We should start charging them.” 

“We are charging them, technically,” he snorts, finally letting go of your wrists and leveling his face above yours.

Right. You keep forgetting the promise of a cash prize if you make it out of this alive. 

Alive, not unscathed. 

You’re already picturing that cash as blood money, some pathetic trophy that won’t even begin to cover the irreversible scars that will be left behind. All the hurt, all the fights, all the realizations — no amount of promised money can erase them.

You start to consider what could erase them, but you stop yourself when you realize that that admittance is too heavy. 

He’s here. The weight of him is pressing into you, the smell of him is encasing you, and the stare of his big brown eyes is locking you in. You have him. For a few more hours, you have him.

The wounds can wait. The time to heal and scar over will come later.

“I guess they are, huh?” you laugh when you realize you’ve gone too long without replying. 

The stare turns curious. Still melted chocolate, still deathly soft for you, but curious all the same. “Yeah. Yeah, they are.” 

You’re about to retreat into your own head and consider what he might do with his share of the cash, but that voice in your mind whispers once more.

He’s here. You have him. Just ask him.

“What are you doing with your money?” you blurt out. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, curls falling over his shoulders and creating a curtain as he continues to balance his weight on his forearms settled on each side of your head, still hovering over you.

You should probably comment on that. Make a snide remark about it. Shove him off.

You don’t.

“Is that really want you’d like to talk about right now?” 

Right, the weight of his hips as he rolls them gently into you reminds you of what the two of you had been doing before the phone call. The boundaries you’d hopped right over, all the lines you two had been in the process of crossing.

The affect you have on him.

Your stomach twists and suddenly your legs fall open wider to welcome him in, only to wrap them up around his waist. He lets you, lets you pull him right in until your chests are flush to each other. The only thing separating your skin from his is this damn sweatshirt. 

“I… Maybe,” you force out just before his lips capture yours. It’s not as urgent as when he’d pulled you in for a kiss to Deftones, but it’s still enough to shatter every bone in your body before melding them all back together into something new, something different.

Something changed. 

Eddie smiles, and it’s almost shyly. “Maybe?”

You hum, but it’s cut off, caught in your throat with another roll of Eddie’s hips. 

“Okay. Let’s talk about it then, sweetheart.” 

Another roll of his hips, and you lift your own to meet the thrust this time, trying to catch him against you in a way for reprieve. You can feel the wet patch gathering on your panties, your thighs clenching onto his hips harder. 

“What ever shall I do with my money?” he pretends to ponder, eyes shooting up to look away from you in faux contemplation. 

As he does it, one of his hands wander over your sternum, dancing above the fabric of the borrowed clothes. 

“Maybe I’ll buy a new bike,” he muses, the hand wandering lower, tracing a steady line down your abdomen, “Maybe I’ll get myself a new guitar.” 

His hand has reached the hem of the sweatshirt, slips beneath it and plays with the edge of your panties. 

Your mouth will be your damnation as you snipe back, “Or maybe you can buy yourself a whole collection of playboys, filled with plenty of models who definitely don’t look like someone you claim to hate.” 

His hand retracts immediately, and you can’t help but begin to giggle.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you start to gasp out when he lifts away from you, reaching out to grab onto him. 

He’s fast, but your hands are quicker. You wrap them around the back of his neck and tug him into you, only for him to continue to lift himself up and bring you with him as well this time. 

You resemble a koala, and can only imagine what the scene looks like to an outsider. 

“Eddie!” you practically squeal, and can feel the vibrations of his own laughter as he sits up on his knees, you still clinging to him.

His arms wrap around you and you lean back, catching that mischievous glint in his eyes. It breaks through the softness, burns brightly in your chest as your laughter fades into soft breaths that hit his freckled cheeks.

You stare at each other for a moment, a tangle of limbs and unspoken words. His earlier admission isn’t forgotten, the lines crossed all painted in red now.

He’s here. You have him, for now. 

You can only imagine the claw marks you will be leaving behind when the clock strikes twenty four hours, and you’re forced to leave him and this behind. 

“You, sweetheart,” he finally breaks the silence with gentle smirk, “are a certified boner killer.” 

You don’t miss a beat, reaching down between you two, hand cupping his still prominent erection, “You sure about that?” 

He only groans in response, and in your following cackles, your hold on him slips. 

He could have let you fall back roughly on the couch, especially given his distraction with fighting his ever growing smirk. He could have let you smack your head back on the cushion and let you deal with the dull ache that would have followed. He could have, he could have, he could have.

He doesn’t. 

He guides you back with his arms still tight around you. Makes sure that you land softly against the worn plush. Takes his time removing his grip on you before he’s standing up from the couch.

You lay back, so sincerely content as you let out a final breath of a laugh and watch him shake his head in amusement as he turns to leave. 

“Where are you going?” if it weren’t for the residual giddiness of the moment, you’d have been embarrassed by the clinginess that had threaded its way into your tone.

“The bathroom,” he answers without hesitation, back facing you as he starts down the short hall.

You call after him, “Okay. Don’t take too long this time!” 

Even as his laughter echoes faintly, you know you still have him. For now.

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[matryosika]

Incoming Call

Pairing — Hyunjin x fem!reader Wordcount — 3,394 words Genre — Smut (18+) Includes — Suggestive content. Smut warnings under the cut. Author's note — This honestly came out of the blue. I was just feeling like phone sex and exhibitionism and this is what I ended up writing, haha. I hope you like it, it's just a silly little drabble in which my writer's block didn't get the best of me. I am actually proud I could come up with something, but it's not as filthy as other of my works. Please remember that english is not my first language, so i apologize for any mistakes in advanced! If you wish to support my blog further, please reblog and comment, leave an ask and check my pinned post for my ko-fi!

Smut warnings — Dirty talk. Phone sex and exhibitionism if you squint. Masturbation (m), Hyunjin is kind of a perv but it's very very tame. Use of petnames (baby), mentions of creampies, and other sexual fantasies. Hyunjin is needy and desperate. Reader's mom interrupts the hated moment (not cool!).

Time zones. 

By far your most terrible enemies these days. 

It wasn't only the jet lag that threw you off from coming back home, but the abysmal time difference between you and your boyfriend —he goes to bed right before you wake up, and his most active time is when you are about to sleep. 

It has been a couple of days, but texting with him has been an absolute nightmare. 

“It’s only a week,” you reassured him as he waved you goodbye at the airport. His lower lip was slightly pouting, and his usually straight eyebrows were raised in a subtle furrow. “I’m sure you’ll live, Hyunjin”. 

“Yeah but I wanted to come with you,” there was genuine pity in his voice and you knew he meant it —he never misses a chance to join you on your trips back home, or meeting your parents.  

Because of how busy he has been, and the fact that this trip was practically nonexistent a week before, he just couldn't ask for a time off at work this time.

“We’re spending Christmas there this year,” you tried to cheer him up, rubbing his arm with solace, “time flies by, anyways”. 

Hyunjin nodded, resigning himself to the imminent struggle of being hours and miles apart from each other.

“Text me when you get there, yeah?” He planted a chaste kiss on your forehead and held you tightly. “Text me all the time, I’ll reply when I can, okay?”

You nodded against his chest, and kept his promise throughout the whole trip. 

You texted him when you got to your home country, and you also texted him a picture of your first meal there. You told him all about the weather, how happy your parents were to see you after a while and the things you missed the most.

He promised he would reply when he could, but you knew that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Or at least not for a couple of more hours, until he woke up.

And basically, that has been the whole dynamic all along —you text him everything about your day at a given time, and he texts you everything about his day at a given time as well. There's very little conversation happening in between, but it's understandable.

By day 3, Hyunjin learned to convert time zones. If it is morning for him, it is late afternoon for you. If it is his late night, you're probably just waking up.

He knows when to text you —if he is expecting a quick response— and knows when you're sleeping. Taking all that into account, Hyunjin tries to make the most of the time that's actually convenient for the two of you to talk.

[08:19 a.m., Hyunjin: Baby]

With furrowed eyebrows, your fingers type away faster than your mind can comprehend it. 

[08:19 a.m., You: Shouldn’t you be asleep?]

[08:19 a.m., You: Isn’t it like 11 p.m. in Seoul?]

He is a night owl. Always have been.

But he has been trying really hard to adopt a healthier sleeping schedule, so seeing him online past 10 p.m. it's unusual these days.

“Everything alright?” Your father asks, picking up on the subtle furrow of your brows.

“Yeah, I’m just talking to Hyunjin,” with your phone in one hand, and the other busy with a fork on your breakfast, you await his response. 

“It’s such a shame he couldn’t make it,” your mother adds, “it has been a while since we last met him”.

At that moment, when your mom and dad start talking about how great of a guy he is and how happy they’re to have him as part of the family, your phone vibrates yet again in your hand. 

[08:21 a.m., Hyunjin: Attachment: one image]

[08:21 a.m., Hyunjin: Can you see how much I miss you?]

If it wasn’t for the glass of water you smartly chugged down to hide your coughs, you would have choked on a piece of fruit. Inevitably, and after a failed attempt to conceal the embarrassing moment, your parents' eyes are fixed on you with concern.

“Sorry,” you excuse yourself, cleaning your lips with a napkin while you relentlessly try to put your phone away from anyone’s sight. 

“Are you alright?” your mother asks this time, softly hitting your back 

“Yes,” you nod swiftly. “I just- the food kind of went into the wrong pipe”. 

On your lap, your phone keeps vibrating —one after another, you lose count after message number 4.

[08:22 a.m., Hyunjin: God, I miss your body so much]

[08:22 a.m., Hyunjin: Just want you here for me. Don't want anyone else to have you right now] 

[08:23 a.m., Hyunjin: My hand isn't enough. It doesn't feel like your pussy does]

[08:23 a.m., Hyunjin: Can you come back to me now? Lay underneath me and let me have my way with you?]

[08:24 a.m., Hyunjin: You have no idea how fucking hard I am] 

You gulp loudly.

“What do you think?” It's only when your mother directs a question at you that you snap out of your trance. 

“Huh?”

“What do you think about spending Christmas in some beautiful cabins? They're like 45 minutes away from the city,” she continues, offering you some of the context you missed because of Hyunjin’s heated messages.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply with hesitation. Not because of the idea, but because you really can’t process anything other than the warmth between your legs. “I- uh, I have to go to the restroom”. 

For all he knows, you're lying comfortably in your bed as this is around the time you usually wake up. So damned you, for not letting Hyunjin know that today you are having breakfast with your family at a restaurant. And damned him for putting you into an awkward situation without even knowing of it.

[08:25 a.m., Hyunjin: Can I call you?]

[08:25 a.m., Hyunjin: Want to hear your voice]

[08:25 a.m., Hyunjin: Please, talk to me. Tell me anything you want. Just let me hear that pretty voice of yours]

[08:27 a.m., Hyunjin: Fuck it]

[08:27 a.m., Hyunijn: I’m calling you]

Good luck can’t be any more useful than right now, that you enter the restaurant’s restroom with your fingers crossed and an immense feeling of relief when you see every single stall open. 

And, as if on cue, the soft piano melody coming from your phone's speakers tells you that Hyunjin stuck up to his last message. 

“Are you busy?” It’s the first thing he says, with a hoarse voice and a hitched breath. 

“I’m at a restaurant,” you reply with just a little bit of shame in your tone. “With my parents”. 

Your boyfriend lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Shit I’m- I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” you can hear him panicking, maybe because he thinks you're upset. But in reality, it's all quite the opposite. “I’ll call you later just- forget I even- whatever, I’ll call you another time”. 

“No,” you rush to say, locking yourself into one of the bathroom stalls. “Don’t hang up, I can- I’m at the restroom”. 

There's a quick seconds of silence from the other line as Hyunjin gathers the remaining coherent thoughts after getting to hear your voice. “Is it- are there other people there?”

“For now it’s just me,” you reassure him.

“Just you?” He asks, and you hum in response. “I’m sorry for calling it’s just- God, I can’t spend another day without you”. 

The wet, sloppy slow sounds paired with the laziness of his voice can only give you a hint of what he is doing.

“Are you- masturbating?” 

It's not like you're a prude, but this whole thing is taking you by surprise. You're always together, so there's no need for phone sex or anything of that sort. Sexting isn’t unusual, but this is definitely a first.

“Yeah,” he replies with a raspy scoff. “Want me to stop?”

“No, I- no,” when you encourage him to continue, the lewd, wet sounds start to become more and more frequent —increasingly loud for you to hear them, “keep going”. 

Hyunjin lets out a deep sigh of frustration.

“Do you miss me too?” he asks, biting down his lower lip to prevent any whimpers from falling from them. 

“Yes,” with shortness of breath you admit. “I miss you too,”.

“Yeah?” He whispers under his breath, letting small grunts make their way to your ears. “I miss you badly. Can’t stop thinking about you- shit, can’t stop thinking about how pretty you look when you’re naked in my bed”. 

The compliments, all together, make your cheeks and body grow hotter. But inevitably, they force you to fix your gaze under the bathroom stall, in that little gap between it and the floor. There’s no sound nor signals of footsteps approaching, but the adrenaline of hearing him say such dirty things when you're out in public is definitely a new experience.

You can't say you hate it.

“Baby,” Hyunjin moans. And although you can’t see it, you can take a wild guess what he looks like right now: head kicked back, legs spread, his hand and dick glistening with lube, or lotion, or maybe spit. You can picture how pretty his face is right now, contorted in pleasure, with his lips all swollen from licking and biting them, eyes completely white while he bucks his hips up against his fist. “Talk to me, tell me about your plans for the day”.

You can’t help but laugh a little in the midst of the tension. 

“You want me to- talk about my day while you masturbate?”

“Well,” he scoffs under his breath. “I don’t expect you to say dirty stuff while you’re locked in a public restroom where anyone can walk in”. 

“Right,” you nod to yourself. “But I don't understand what that would do for you”. 

“I like your voice,” your boyfriend lets out a deep exhale of relief. “I can get off just by listening to it, doesn’t matter what you’re talking about”.

“You’re crazy,” a soft chuckle falls from your lips. “You’re not even going to pay attention to me”.

“Please?” you can hear a small whimper, and that alone convinces you. 

“Okay well,” you clear your throat before continuing, wondering how this could arouse him. But he is asking you something that is nowhere near difficult, so you comply. “I’m having breakfast with my parents right now”. 

“Aha,” Hyunjin hums, and if you play close attention you can hear his hand sliding up and down his cock. All you're left with is your imagination. “Keep going”.

“I will meet with a friend later, we’re going to grab some coffee”. 

Despite the weirdness of it all, there's something enticing about knowing he is using you, in some way, to get off. You're only talking about your day. But knowing your boyfriend is masturbating to the sound of your voice is arousing.

“Then I’ll go back home, get some work done,” you continue. “Think about you, think about how much I miss you right now”. 

The line goes silent, except for a mixture of gasps and groans. 

“You’re going to think about me?” Hyunjin asks, his silky voice sending shivers down your spine. “You’re going to touch yourself thinking about me?”

“Yes,” of course he doesn't expect you to talk dirty to him. But that never meant he couldn't say that kind of stuff to you. At that, you're at a disadvantage. No matter how turned on you're getting, there's nothing you can do about it and Hyunjin sort of feels thrilled because of it.

“You’re going to fuck my pussy with those fingers of you?”

God, how much you hate him for that. How he talks about your body as if it is his, reminding you that you belong to him and him only. 

You only hate it because it never fails to arouse you.

“Y-yes Hyune,” you reply, swallowing thickly. You're aware you can't say anything too obscene, but you still can engage in that kind of conversation without airing yourself too much. “Or should I- use something else?” 

“You packed your toys?” your boyfriend lets out a satisfied groan at your hum of agreement. You two are just so alike. “Which one are you using tonight, baby?”

“The transparent one”.

“The transparent one?” he thinks about it for a second, and immediately remembers which one you're referring to. “Thought you were going for the wand because it's your favorite, but I'm guessing you miss feeling full?”

“Aha,” you exhale. “Yes, I- miss it so bad”.

“You miss my cock stretching that tight pussy of yours?” At that, the wet movements become louder. “Stretch it nice and open for me baby, make sure to prep yourself every day for when you get back”. 

You bite your nails. “What’s going to happen when I get back?”

The answer is rather obvious, but you want to hear it from him.

“I’m going to make you come until you pass out,” Hyunjin bites his lips and kicks his head back, reminiscing all those times where you’ve come around his cock, fingers and tongue. “Make it up to you for all the days you've been away”. 

You can feel the pooling wetness in your underwear, the minimum squeeze of your thighs against each other is a constant reminder of it. 

“You miss my lips against your pussy like I do?” he asks, letting out a liberating gasp. “You miss tasting yourself off of me while we kiss?”

“You know I do,” you gulp loudly, caressing your lips with the tip of your fingers. God, how much you miss feeling his against yours.

They’re so soft, and velvety, and they know exactly how to kiss and bite you.

“I’m so close,” Hyunjin announces, and you feel your nipples hardening underneath your underwear at the despair in his voice. “I just- wish you were here, want to come all over your face, and body, make you swallow me full”. 

You want to say something, anything, but his words have much of a chokehold on you. You'll give anything to taste him, to kneel in front of him right now and open your mouth wide for him. 

You miss his taste, miss kissing him afterwards in between whines and grunts.

“I would grab your hair really tightly,” he explains, increasing the speed of his sounds. “I’d push my cock deep inside that pretty mouth of yours, have you gagging and drooling all over it”. 

Between his overwhelming words, and the loud sound of someone barging through the door of the restroom, you mutter a quick "can't talk anymore" before going completely silent.

“Honey, are you okay?”

Shit. 

You close your eyes, trying to focus on both parts: Hyunjin’s moans, and the way your mother is standing right outside your bathroom stall.

“It has been like 10 minutes, your father and I got worried”.

Your boyfriend lets out a teasing scoff, one that only you can hear.

“She’s asking you a question,” Hyunjin murmurs, still with a hitched breath. “Aren’t you going to answer?”

“I’m fine,” you rush to say. “Just- having a stomachache”. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve got some medicine in my bag,” of course she did. She always does, ever since you were little.

“Maybe you should tell her the truth,” the voice from the other line calls. “Tell her that you’re busy making me come”.

Immediately, your eyes open like plates and you wonder if the sound of the phone is too loud  for your mom to hear it inside the quiet restroom. 

“I forgot!” you snap, practically yell out loud. “I forgot you carried those with you”.

“Want me to bring them to you?”

You hear the faucet running, and Hyunjin chuckling slowly. At least she isn’t standing right outside the stall, but you’re still not at ease. 

“Y-yeah, please,” on the line, Hyunjin is waiting for the perfect moment to interrupt. 

Those two words are enough to send him to the edge. Despite the lack of sexual connotations, hearing you beg for anything it’s enough to arouse him.

“Ah, but I’ll have to bring you some water too,” your mother explains. “Maybe you can have it when you return to the table?”

“No!” You insist, all in an attempt to kick her away from the restroom. “Please, I need it right now. Please?” 

“Are you going to beg for me like that too?” Hyunjin groans through the line, not caring if anyone can hear him. Also not caring about interrupting your conversation. “Are you going to open your legs for me and beg for my dick like you’re begging right now?”

You almost choke on your own saliva, but the feeling quickly goes away when you hear your mother mutter an “okay, alright” before walking out the restroom door with a mission of easing your fake stomach ache.

“I almost get caught,” you gasp, only when a couple of seconds pass after she leaves. 

“Then hang up,” his shakily breath only tells you he is not that far from coming. Especially after hearing your voice again, pleading for whatever it was you were asking. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Want to hear you, please”. 

“Want to hear how I come for you?” he chuckles. “Want to her how I moan your name while I come thinking about how much I wish I was fucking you?”.

In a whisper, you hum quietly. 

“So dirty,” he is getting closer. “So, so f-fucking dirty. I can tell you’re enjoying this, even while you're out in public. Maybe you'll like it if i were to fuck you right there, while your parents wait for us at the table?”. 

You cover your mouth in surprise, trying to muffle a gasp.

“I would love to come inside you right now, pull up your panties and force you to spend the rest of the day with my cum leaking out of you,” he lets out another loud, choked groan before continuing to elaborate on the fantasy. “You'd be so wet, you wouldn't know if you're turned on or it's just my cum”.

“You’re insane,” you whisper under your breath.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin asks teasingly, slurring his words in between moans. “I know you are too, baby. I don’t even need to take a look at you to know you’re probably dripping just by my words, right?”

Damned him.

“And I know I’m not too out of my mind when I say you would let me fuck you right then and there, where everyone could hear you and anyone could walk in,” at that, the lewd noises increase. “Might even let me finger you underneath the table, right? Bet you would love to have my fingers deep inside you while you try to pretend you don’t”. 

“And I know I’m not too out of my mind when I say you would let me fuck you right then and there, where everyone could hear you and anyone could walk in,” at that, the lewd noises increase. “Might even let me finger you underneath the table, right? Bet you would love to have my fingers deep inside you while you try to pretend you don’t”. 

Oh you're definitely going to cancel all your plans for the day. Might even book an early fly.

Anything, just to see him soon.

“God,” Hyunjin exhales, and it’s between quiet moans that you realize he is coming. “F-fuck, ‘m coming so fucking much”.

You can picture it. His tone abdomen all glistening with sweat and cum, shining brightly underneath the dim light of your room. His cock is probably red, and swollen, and twitching while he overcomes his high.

Fuck, damned be Hyunjin for making you ruin your panties this early in the morning.

“So much,” he repeats, fingers trailing the lines of his abdomen as he collects his arousal off of it. “Too sad it went to waste, I would’ve preferred to fuck it back inside of you”.

“I hate you,” you finally breathe, both in relief and frustration. “I hate how much I miss you”.

“Then come home soon,” your boyfriend pouts.

And honestly? You might.

[cas-writes-stuff-ig]

Part 3 of Cheering Her Up (A Float)

f!/nb! reader x regina george

CONTENT:

Word Count: 3203

The morning after the party

You and Regina go spend time in the pool together (you brought a duck float)

Regina shoves you in the pool

a little bit of suggestive flirting

some comphet/internalized homophobia/weird mixed signals type stuff

you're bonding with Kylie (Regina's little sister)

very mild angst/one-sided pining (at least you feel like its one-sided)

Part 1 of Cheering Her Up

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up

Part 4 of Cheering Her Up (coming soon maybeeeee??)

a/n:

sorry i've been missing in action for like 2 months, life's been sucky. Also I tried writing some smut for the end of this chapter but I decided to move it to the next chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it (I'm not necessarily happy with this chapter I just was bullshitting around a little)

OH ALSO i'm like about halfway done with that wine drunk fic with Leighton do expect that soon :]

——————————————————————————————

In the morning, since you were slightly hungover, you didn’t wanna cook and Mrs. George went out for some errands, so you and Regina went out to get breakfast. You gulped down two cups of coffee to help with your head, then asked her to drop by your house to get your school bag. “Gina I’m gonna take a bit, I’ve gotta find something. I’ll drive back to yours soon” You got out of the car.

“Okay, bye loser, I’ll see you there,” She said and then drove off. 

You walked inside and you had to explain to your dad you were fine and you just needed to grab some stuff to do homework with Regina. He was indifferent about what you did or didn’t do, he just cared that you weren’t arrested. 

——————————————————————————————

"Your family gonna be out long?" You asked after about forty minutes of mutual silence on your phones. It was Saturday and you both finished the little homework you had over an hour ago, and you had this itch to take a dip in her pool again.

"Probably, why?" She asked

"I bought a pool float, just say it's for your sister. I'll leave it here" you said sheepishly.

She was unimpressed with your excuse "Mmhm, you know she can't swim well" 

"Precisely why I got one, now she can enjoy the pool" You argued back 

"Fine, let me get changed. I'll meet you down there" Regina got up and walked into her closet. "You've asked to swim in my pool so many times. At this rate, you should just join the fucking swim team" She said sarcastically, and you walked toward the hallway.

"Whatever, your pool is just nice to hang out in" You left her room and jogged down the stairs to your car.

Regina walked down the stairs after changing, holding two towels and water bottles, she saw you sitting on the ground in a sleeveless t-shirt and your boxer shorts, blowing up a fucking duck floatie. "Hey G" you were out of breath "I forgot my swim trunks"

She tsked at you “You brought a float, but not your swimsuit?" She left the glass door open.

"Uhhhh, yeah. I know I know it was dumb" She walked past you, flicked your forehead, earning an “ow” from you, and went to sit on the lounge chair. When you filled the entire float with air, you plugged the hole and held it above your head. "Success!" You put it in the water next to the edge of the pool.

It was a pretty big floaty, it could easily fit two people on it. You carefully climbed onto the float "Regina, get in on this" You put your hands behind your head and relaxed, closing your eyes.

"You look stupid." She said glancing up from her phone, she was taking a secret photo of you. Part of her wanted to replace your contact photo with this one, but she didn’t.

You opened your eyes and scolded her "Hey, you could've said no to the pool, just get on here. Don't let my hard work go to waste" She started playing music. Wordlessly she got up from her chair and sat on the float with you. "Wow, I didn't think you'd actually listen to me"

"I'm taking pity on you actually," She said conceitedly, you just flipped her off and closed your eyes again. So you both just laid there, basking in the last few weeks of warmth before the cold came in full force.

——————————————————————————————

The float had drifted from the edge to the middle of the pool. You had about twenty minutes of peace before you felt Regina's hands under your back and she shoved you off the float when you were least expecting it. A short cry of surprise was quickly muted by your head falling under the water.

You resurfaced and quickly grasped one of the flimsy plastic handles along the edge of the float while she was calming down from laughter "That was uncalled for!" you said "You find too much pleasure in my demise, Regina"

She faked her remorse "I would never do such a thing" she tilted her head to the side.

"Then can you help me back on?" you asked.

She grinned mischievously and crossed her legs. "No" she waved her hand like she was dismissing you "Swim along little duck"

"Fine then" You started to claw your way back up on the float, bending one of the edges and letting Regina sink in the water a little bit.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" Regina exclaimed as half her body was underwater due to your uncoordinated efforts. You finally got back on the float, you were on your stomach, and your head turned toward Regina. She was slightly irritated, and you just grinned at her. “You’re so annoying,” She said to you.

“You coulda helped me back up, you know? And if I’m so annoying, why do you still let me hang around?” your voice was playful. You decided to push the flirting a little more “You sure you’re just hanging around because you pity me? Is it for homework?” You shifted to lay on your side, head resting in the palm of your hand. “Or do you have a crush on me?” Your tone was joking but you were serious in your head.

Whenever you insinuated that your relationship was a little romantic, she would become testy. 

Your words pushed on Regina’s nerves, but she didn’t let it show on her face too much. She rolled her eyes. “Dream on nerd, I could care less about dating anyone right now. I’m not really gay.” She hated when you’d say things like that because she felt turmoil in her chest about the relationship you had with her, she didn’t want to think about what it meant. 

You knew her words were bullshit, the things she did with you spoke louder than words, but it still stung to hear her say that. You hid your disappointment and just said “Uhuh, whatever floats your boat Gina” She’s been like this throughout the entire situationship. Contradicting herself, going between acting like you were the only one in the world who knew her, or like what you had was nothing. 

This wasn’t good for your poor heart, but you were a fool, a dumb, lovesick fool, and you couldn’t help it. You knew she cared a little though, so you clung to the moments she had let you in, where you held each other like nothing else mattered.

She deflected the topic of romance quickly, “Go check my phone, my mom and Kylie might be back soon”

“But it's all the way over there, and I just got back on” You whined but you got off anyway, since she had a point. You grabbed one of the handles on the float and tugged Regina with you to the edge of the pool.

Regina snickered at how quickly you complied “You’re so easy, baby” You tried to ignore her, but she continued. “So obedient” Her voice was suggestive and teasing, your face reddened and you felt her words go straight between your thighs. You glanced over your shoulder trying to glare, but it looked more like a pout.

You reached the edge, stepped up and out of the pool, and walked toward the lounge chairs, drying your hand off with a towel to not get her phone wet. You looked back at Regina, “She said she’s gonna be home in about forty minutes, and it was sent like 26 minutes ago”

“Mm, okay,” She sounded mildly annoyed since you only had the pool to yourselves for less than an hour. Regina wanted to thoroughly enjoy the last few minutes of solitude with you. She got off the float “Come here”

You walked towards her, stepping into the water again. Regina had a hand on your shoulder, and right when you grabbed her waist about to pull her in closer for a kiss, you heard Regina’s mom say loudly “Hey guys!” as she opened the front door. You both instantly moved away from each other and got out. Mrs. George was holding some grocery bags and Kylie followed behind.

You and Regina already dried yourself off quickly, you hung the towel over your shoulder and walked inside. “Hey Kylie” Regina greeted, and Kylie gave a curt “Hey” back and then walked up to you.

“Hi, Mrs. George. Hey little George” You smiled and then crouched down so you were closer to eye level with Kylie. You stuck your fist out and Kylie fist-bumped you. 

“Hi, Y/N” She liked it when you and Regina were around. Kylie went on about her day to you. Regina was a little further away, and you made eye contact, Regina pointed at her sister and you, then mouthed ‘Traitors.’ You had to hold in your laugh and divert your attention back to her little sister. “Oh! And we’re going on a field trip to the aquarium in two weeks” 

Before you could answer, Regina’s mom called you all over to the kitchen. “Kylie have your lunch” She placed a plate on the table and Kylie sat down. “You guys hungry?”

Regina looked at you, meaning it was up to you “No, I’m okay. Thank you” you said. 

“Okay” her mom always sounded enthusiastic “Why don’t you invite Gretchen, Karen, and the new girl Cady to hang out with you guys in the pool?” 

“Uh-” Shit, you blanked on excuses

Regina cut in quickly “Gretchen and Y/N aren’t really on good terms mom, I’d rather not get into it” Which wasn’t true, Gretchen was in one of your classes and you were good acquaintances, which is why you and Regina had to be extra careful around her. Her special talent for getting people’s information was really incredible.

“Oh, okay honey” She moved on obliviously “I’m going to run a couple more errands, do you mind watching Kylie, Regina?” 

Regina took a quick glance at her sister who beamed at the idea of hanging out with both of you. “Sure, Mom” She wouldn’t show it much, but she really did care for her little sister.

“Great! I’ll be back around seven or eight tonight” Ms. George leaned closer to you “You both are welcome to drink whatever alcohol I bought, it’s in the fridge” She picked up her purse and left quickly. “Bye girls!” 

——————————————————————————————

Regina had taken out the margarita mix from the fridge and took out two glasses. Kylie finished her lunch and then grabbed a juice box from the fridge, “Hey little George, wanna hang out in the pool for a little?” 

“Sure!” She grinned and gulped down her juice box, leaving it on the table, then dashing up to her room to change.

Regina cleared her throat to get your attention, then held up the two glasses with ice, insinuating for you to drink with her. 

“Again?” You rolled your eyes, she poured you a glass and handed it to you. You took it anyway. “Fuck it, it’s Saturday” You downed it quickly and placed it down on the counter, Regina smirked and poured you another without asking if you wanted more. “You’re gonna be the reason my liver gives out in my thirties, Regina”

She began to walk away, bringing the glasses with her “You could say no, and I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to sip it, not chug it” She stepped back out to the backyard, and then Kylie returned in her swimsuit. 

“I’m ready let's go!” She skipped through the house and to the pool, and you followed behind. Regina had already settled on her lounge chair, drinking her glass. You sipped yours too, already feeling the burning down in your stomach. You heard Kylie gasp audibly at the sight of the float, then she whipped her head around to look at the both of you.

“I got you a duck float”

“Because you don’t know how to swim” Regina added under her breath, but Kylie heard her.

She defended herself “I know how to swim! It’s just hard.” You placed your drink down next to Regina and walked over to dip yourself in the shallow end, Kylie followed suit, and while the water only reached about a third of you, it went up over half of Kylie.

“Take it easy, you just ate okay?” You were trying to be mindful, and you pulled the float for her to grab “You can hold onto the float while you swim too, but your mom should really sign you up for lessons” 

——————————————————————————————

Twenty minutes went by and you were trying to teach Kylie to swim more effectively, but you weren’t particularly great at it either, so you opted to teach her how to tread water. You were in slightly deeper water now so she could practice, but shallow enough that your feet still touched the floor of the pool. After a bit, you successfully taught her how to not drown. “Hey good job little George” She reached for the float handle to take a break. 

“You want to get on the float now?” You asked.

“Yeah,” she said and you held the float for her as she clambered onto it, she sat cross-legged, then you let go to float on your back, still holding the float to not drift away. “Y/N,” Kylie whispered a little, “How come you’re not dating anyone?” You were taken aback a little bit and shifted to stand in the water. 

“Uh,” you thought for a second, also whispering back despite being a good ways away from Regina “I don’t know, but I’ve been in relationships before. Why you being nosey, George?” You kept your tone light. 

“No reason, I like to know things. Do you like anyone then?” She pried.

Her intrigue about your life was cute, so you entertained her curious antics a little “Mmhm, do you?” 

She started to pry more “No, boys are stupid. What’s their name?”

You snickered at how similar Kylie was to Regina “You sound like your sister, Kye. Also, it doesn’t matter, you don’t know them anyway” you lied.

Kylie pouted “I won’t tell anyone, not even Regina” 

“Okay, their name ends with an ‘A’” You whispered teasing her a little.

Both of your voices started to rise in volume, “That's not fair, there are so many names that end with ‘A’, give me something else to work with.” 

“Nope, sorry Little George” She crossed her arms and frowned at you, “Oh come on, I bought you a float, you can’t be mad at me.” 

Before either of you could continue your argument Regina cut in “Why are you upset Kylie?” She now sat at the edge of the pool with her legs in the water. 

“They won’t tell me who the-” 

You covered Kylie’s mouth quickly with your hand and into her ear “Don’t say anything to Gina, I’ll tell you later, I promise” You took your hand away from her mouth and held out your pinky “Please.” You didn’t want Regina to push you away, so you lied to yourself and tried to convince yourself that you could keep this casual. You both convinced yourselves this was casual.

“Fine” Kylie took your pinky, and you connected the tip of your thumb to hers locking the promise.

“Kylie, finish your sentence,” Regina said. Kylie glanced at her and then back at you, you held a finger up to your mouth, and Kylie zipped her mouth closed with her hand and pretended to throw an imaginary key away. Regina looked irritated, but if she found out you liked someone, she would force the answer out of you.

She was about to ask you, but then you copied Kylie’s gesture by zipping your mouth closed. “We’re sworn to secrecy” 

She just rolled her eyes at you. “You’re such a child”

“Hey!” Kylie acted offended

You defended Kylie “That’s ageist Gina” 

——————————————————————————————

Eventually, you went back inside it was about 5:30 now. “I’m showering first,” Regina announced “Use the guest bathroom to shower,” She told you.

“Okayy” You gave her a thumbs-up, she had filled your glass twice just 10 minutes ago, and you weren’t usually outwardly drunk, but your demeanor was more bubbly. Regina walked up the stairs and left you and Kylie alone.

“Hey you owe me” Kylie got your attention.

Shit, you should’ve just told Kylie you didn’t like anyone, or that you were still getting over your ex. “Kye, really?” You lay down on the floor, that last drink was hitting you, not enough to be visibly drunk, but enough for you to have a blabbermouth.

“Yeah,” Kylie sat down on the floor next to you. You heard the shower upstairs turn on.

“It’s a girl” You sort of liked playing these games still, it was mildly entertaining for you.

“Okay” 

“Starts with an R”

“So my sister?”

“Don’t tell her little George. You get no more details” You whispered. You should not have been telling a little kid this, especially her sister. But you were tipsy and with no one else to confide in, you told her anyway. “If you tell her I’ll take that float back” You kidded.

She held out her pinky to you “I won’t tell, pinky swear” You locked your pinky promise again with her. “I kind of like this one guy in my class” 

“I knew it, you little liar.” You sat up and ruffled her wet hair “So Kye has a crush huh?” She gave you more details about her crush. It was pretty adorable. Kylie detailed her crush being put in the same group for the upcoming aquarium field trip. Eventually she asked you more details about your crush on Regina.

“Why don’t you tell her you like her? You guys are always together.” Kylie asked you.

You hesitated when answering her question “Highschool social hierarchy is hard to explain, but being gay isn’t exactly great for your social status, plus I’m not exactly popular. And your sister–no one actually knows we’re friends aside from you and your mom.”

“But you guys are close friends, as close to Regina as Gretchen and Karen. And I think you are more fun to hang around than Aaron”

You smiled at her “I know, little George, you’re so sweet,  but it’s hard to explain why I can’t tell her.” You couldn’t outright tell Kylie her sister was essentially very homophobic outside of the house. “Things between us are weird and complicated, but I don’t think she will ever like me like that, thats all” 

Kylie frowned at that, you placed a hand on her shoulder “Don’t look so down. Trust me little George, it’s better she doesn’t know”

You both heard the shower shut off. Regina was in her robe and she peeked down the stairs seeing you and Kylie were still sitting at the bottom of the stairs talking. “Hey, what are you doing? Get washed up already” 

You stood up, “That’s our cue,” you offered your hand to Kylie and helped her up “Go shower before the beast gets mad at us” Kylie let out a little laugh.

(lowk i kinda hate this may or may not delete/archive this)

[scatorcciogf]

let the light in

¬ summary: spider!lottie saves you from a criminal. established relationship but reader doesn't know she's spidey yet :) ¬ warnings: cursing, gun mentions (nothing happens), slight violence + injury. gn!reader ¬ word count: 2.5k.... i swear this was supposed to be a drabble

it’s a quiet night tonight. 

well. as quiet as it can get in the city that never sleeps. but you’re not necessarily in the city — you’re on the outskirts, waiting for a bus back home — so it's way calmer. you were visiting a friend, got a little carried away (see: watching three bad horror movies instead of just one), and now you're definitely gonna have to wait a while until you can catch a ride to the city. 

you sigh, sitting down on the bench. you wish you had lottie there to keep you company, but she had to stay behind and study for an upcoming biochem test. you curse her for being such a responsible student and you curse nyu for existing, and then you take out your phone because you should probably shoot her a text.

at the bus stop now :) see u soon, you write. 

you don’t expect her to reply quickly, considering that she usually leaves her phone in the other room when she wants to focus on something. you’re surprised to see her read it immediately, type for a few seconds, then disappear again. you’re about to ask her about it when she calls you instead.

“hard at work, i see.” you say in lieu of a greeting, and you can almost hear her eyes roll.

“i’m taking a break. don’t be a brat.”

“why’d you call?”

“i wanted to hear your voice. i miss you.” 

you chuckle. “it’s been, like, six hours. you’re ridiculous.” 

despite your teasing, you think it’s cute — and she knows that. she knows how easily you melt at her sweet words and soft smiles.

“well, i also wanted to talk with you while you wait. you know, make sure you’re safe. i don’t like the idea of you being out alone so late at night.” she argues.

“and that’s very sweet of you,” you say, smiling. “but there’s literally nobody here. you don’t have to worry about me, you should go study.”

she groans. “but this lesson is so boring. and i’m only revising now, anyway. it’s not that important.”

“lottie.”

“fine… but if you get kidnapped, don’t blame me.”

“as if you could do anything about it all the way from our apartment!”

“i would think of something.”

and you open your mouth to tell her to just go already, but your words die in your throat as you feel something hard and cold pressed against your back. the next voice you hear comes from behind you, not from the phone, and it's much deeper and rougher than your girlfriend's. 

“hang up. right now.”

fuck. did you accidentally manifest getting kidnapped? you're frozen in both fear and indecision, bar your shaking hand. was that a gun or a knife? you want to tell lottie to call the police, but you're also afraid of what the man would do to you if you did. what if he kills you anyway? fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“baby?” you hear her confused voice at the same time as he shouts: “i said now!”

you want to tell her you love her before you end the call, fearing that you might never get another chance, but you find yourself too paralyzed to speak. instead, you press the button and drop the phone, hearing it shatter as it hits the ground. you know she knows anyway. 

the man speaks again, and you realize his voice is muffled by what must be a ski mask. “give me all your money. come on.”

you shake your head, eyes welling up. “i don't have anything on me, i swear.” 

“don't make me hurt you. just give me your fucking wallet.” 

“please,” you somehow manage to say as you show him your pockets are empty. “i already told you, i don't have my wallet with me.”

“and i don't believe you. what about your bag?”

you feel your heart rate picking up as he gets more aggressive in both his tone and actions — you're going to have a bruise with how strongly he's pressing his gun to you. if he doesn't actually pull the trigger, that is.

you slowly reach for your bag. you really don't have anything valuable in there, besides headphones and a water bottle. maybe he'll be satisfied with just that if he's particularly thirsty. 

you open it up and shift it vaguely towards where he's standing. “see? no money. please just—”

you're interrupted by a sudden thwip sound behind you. weird sound for a gun to make, you think, before you realize it's not the gun that you heard, but rather what grabbed it. a thin, but seemingly firm, spiderweb-like fluid, swiftly tugging it towards—

spider-woman. holy shit. 

“have you ever considered getting a job? it's this thing where you contribute to society and get paid, instead of mugging innocent people at night.” she says, tossing the gun aside. 

your mind is still racing, but you have the common sense to step away from the guy. it's only when you turn to look at him for the first time that you realize he doesn't need a weapon to be able to hurt you — he's massive. and now, it seems, pretty angry too. 

“not you again,” he growls. “mind your fucking business.”

she jumps down from the tree she was in, elegantly landing a few feet away from you. her gaze doesn't leave him, however. 

“the safety of people who live here is my business.”

he scoffs. “what are you gonna do, then? arrest me?”

“something like that.”

he lunges towards her before she can make the first move, looking ready to strangle her. she's too quick for someone like him, though, and she dodges every punch he tries to throw her way. you assumed she'd immobilize him with the web or something, but then again, what do you know. maybe she's just too busy trying not to get beat up. 

they spar for a minute or two, the guy holding up better than you thought he would. you should probably run away or call the police (scratch that, she just stepped on your phone and you swear you heard a crack! in between all the grunts and hits), but you're so captivated by the whole situation that you can't look away. it's not every day you get to see spider-woman up close. 

she kicks his side and manages to shoot the web into his eyes while he's catching his breath. he winces and swears loudly, stumbling back. he's scratching at it, and you can tell it's very tough to get it off. 

“oh, fuck this!” he exclaims before she can do anything else. 

still functionally blind, he starts running away, slamming against you in the process. he's clearly not impacted by it because he just continues running off, but you are. it was too forceful for you to stay on your feet, and in a flash, you're on the ground, dull pain in your head from hitting the bench. 

“ow…” you mumble, reaching to touch the back of your head. 

you feel blood under your fingers. great. you think about telling spider-woman to call the ambulance before she goes to catch the bad guy, but she's hurrying towards you before you even have to ask. you can't see her face, but you can tell by her voice that she's worried. 

“are you okay?” she asks. “oh, god, is that blood?”

you hum in response, starting to feel a little dizzy. your eyelids suddenly feel heavier, too. 

“no, no, don't pass out. talk to me. what do you feel?” 

you blink a few times, trying to stay awake. “i don't know… i feel dizzy. and in shock. and it hurts.”

she sighs. “i know, but you can't fall asleep, okay? please. you'll be okay, i just have to get you to a hospital.”

“aren't you going to run after him?”

“that guy? no, i'll just find him later,” she turns to look at your bag. “do you have any tissues or something? we should apply pressure to— you know.”

“no,” you shake your head. “it's fine, i'll just…”

you try to get up, but you soon realize you didn't just hurt your head. you feel sharp pain in your ankle, too. you're not entirely sure you could stand up if you tried. 

spider-woman notices, and she seems even more concerned. “it's not fine. i'll carry you.”

“you can't exactly swing around if your hands are occupied.”

“then i'll walk,” she retorts, inching closer so she can look at your head. “are you sure you don't have anything we can use for that?”

“positive.”

she looks back into your eyes. “you're bleeding a lot.”

she's still for a few seconds. you wonder if she's finally considering the logistical nightmare that would be carrying you to a hospital. you wonder if she's just going to give up leave you there, bleeding and unable to move. 

then, she takes a deep breath and removes her mask, pressing it firmly to your wound, and you wonder if you've gone insane, because the eyes you make contact with are lottie's, and there's no way that isn't a hallucination, right? 

you don't get the privilege of processing this information, though, because the pressure is painful and makes you feel lightheaded again, and soon enough, you pass out. 

— 🕷 —

your eyes sting when you finally open them. it's too bright in the room, both because of the sunlight and because of how… white and clean everything is. 

so she did get you to a hospital. 

you sit up, beginning to register the dull pain that's still present in the back of your head. you look around, and there she is — curled up on a chair beside your bed, blissfully asleep. you smile at how cute she looks, but then you remember last night, and your smile is replaced by a tight feeling in your chest. 

she can't actually be spider-woman… right? 

you clear your throat, not really willing to wait to find out. you hope the conversation you're about to have will be less confusing than the thoughts floating around in your head. 

“lottie?” you call out. 

her eyes immediately snap open, then widen when she realizes you're up. she shifts in the chair, clearly nervous. 

“oh my god, you're awake. how are you feeling?”

“i'm fine.” you pause. “how are you feeling?”

she seems to stiffen. she just looks at you, as if she's trying to think of what to say. 

“you know, since that guy got in quite a few punches.” you add. 

she sighs, looking away. “i thought you were already passed out when i… when i took off the mask. your eyes were already closing.”

it's a confirmation, and you're almost surprised that she didn't try to act confused or change the subject. but it's lottie, and she's never been good at lying to you. 

(despite the fact that she hid her superhero identity from you for the whole duration of your relationship. although, in hindsight, there were a couple of times where it was your own fault you didn't connect the dots.) 

you shake your head. “no, i saw you.”

you can’t really read her; the look on her face — is it shame or relief? maybe it’d be easier to tell if she just looked at you, or said something. anything but the uncomfortable silence filling the room right now.

“i’m also fine,” she says after a few moments, “knuckles were a little bruised but i heal pretty quickly.”

you nod, relieved to hear that, ignoring how surreal everything about this is. you’re not sure which is harder to process — the fact that you had a gun to your back or the fact that the person who saved you from getting shot was spider-woman, who is actually your girlfriend. your chest feels heavy again. she finally looks at you, and you open your mouth to ask her something, but you both speak at the same time. 

“how did—”

“i’m sorry for—”

“you can go first.” you say, offering a small smile.

“i’m sorry i never told you. i wanted to, but it’s just… difficult to get the words out. i didn’t want you to worry, either, that’s the main reason. you already have enough on your plate.” a beat. “but now that you know… it’s fine if you want to break up. i lied to you, and i know it’d be stressful knowing this, so.”

your eyes widen. “what? lottie, i’m not gonna break up with you.”

and, well, you’re pretty sure the look on her face is relief now. 

“no?” she asks quietly, and your heart breaks a little as you realize she fully believed what she said.

“no, of course not. oh my god. come here.”

you shift a little to the side so she can sit next to you, and she does, albeit a little hesitantly. you pull her closer, enjoying the warmth as her body presses into yours. you slide an arm around her waist and pull her in for a gentle kiss, before putting your head on her shoulder.

“are you sure you’re not mad?” she asks.

“i guess i’m more in shock than anything else.”

she tenses a little. “i can’t believe this happened to you. i’m so sorry, i should have stopped him, i…”

“lottie.” you look up at her. “you did what you could. which, speaking of, how did you get there so quickly?”

she grins. “i have my ways.”

you roll your eyes, then close them again, burying your face in her shoulder. a few moments pass where you’re just holding each other in silence, and if you hadn’t just woken up from a coma, you would fall asleep on the spot. as it is, though, you just sit there, breathing in her perfume. 

“does anyone else know?” you ask after a while.

“not really, no. i didn’t want anyone to get wrapped up in this.”

“really? i figured you’d have laura lee as your sidekick or something. you know, have her pray for you every time you go out to do your thing.”

she laughs. “i didn’t think of that. it’s not an entirely bad idea.”

you weakly slap her on the arm. “hey, no. i’m helping you now. i won’t tolerate competition.”

“helping me? you don’t plan on getting a costume of your own, do you?”

“mmm, i was thinking more along the lines of patching you up when you get home. i like seeing you shirtless.”

she grins and pulls you in for another kiss, a little less gentle this time. she slides her arms down to your waist and you let her press your bodies together as tightly as physics allow, melting into her. you still have a lot of questions — both about the life she’s been leading behind your back and the life you two are going to have from now on — but they can wait. for now, you’re content with just getting to kiss her senseless until a nurse comes for a check up.

[crguang]

can I request nsfw prompt #78 for yukong? 🤑🤑

i miss my wife so bad. why is this 2.5k words

cw: some smut at the end, oral sex w/ sub!yukong for the soul

It’s almost ten in the evening when you check your phone to send Yukong a message. You had been too preoccupied this afternoon to let her know that you would finish working later than usual, so you’re a little surprised to not find a text from her checking up on you once she realized you wouldn’t show up for dinner. You type out a message telling her that you’re back in Starskiff Haven and on your way home. You barely put the phone back in your front pocket when it buzzes with a reply. You walk through illuminated streets as you read it and frown.

Okay. I’m finishing up some things at the Palace of Astrum, be there soon.

It’s quite late, Yukong should have gone home hours ago, if she’s still working it means she likely got lost in the mountain of documents and reports on her desk and won’t want to step away from it until the pile has significantly been reduced. You sigh quietly, pocketing the device and changing the direction of your footsteps towards the Palace of Astrum. You wonder if she’s eaten dinner at all, you know how focused and negligent of her needs she can get; she’s also been feeling a little irritated recently due to hormonal changes and doing paperwork at night is easier without the usual clatter of employees and computers. It’s an old habit you’ve been trying to break by going home together whenever your schedules allow and having your last meal of the day in each other’s company (Yukong’s cooking is to die for.) It forces her to leave the office around six at the latest and that way, you get to have her for yourself all evening. You stop by her favorite takeout place on the way to her workplace and order some soup dumplings to go. Warm food in hand, you quickly make your way to the Palace of Astrum, knowing Yukong would still be there despite her earlier message.

The large door creaks open when you push it with one hand. You walk inside the spacious headquarters of the Sky-Faring Commission and instantly spot Yukong’s bent figure at the far end of the room, desk alight as she scribbles things on a document. She’s so busy with whatever she’s doing that she doesn't hear you come closer like she would normally. Her ears are flattened forward and her shoulders look tense, a clear sign of her discontentment.

“Yukong?”

Her head raises abruptly at the sound of your voice so near and the woman blinks as her gaze settles on you walking up the couple of stairs needed to reach her work station. You see a flicker of guilt blending in the violet of her eyes at the realization that time has passed her by once again and you smile to alleviate her worries.

“You’re here,” Yukong states softly then glances at the takeout bag in your hand. “What’s this?”

“Dumplings. Did you eat?”

“Ah…”

She doesn’t say no, but indirectly answers your question anyway. You step closer to her to peep over her shoulder at the dozen of papers laying before her, some of which are annotated with her neat handwriting while others are sprawled on the surface as if she was looking for something in particular. Yukong follows your gaze to her work and sighs.

“I lost track of time, I’m sorry,” she apologizes in a low voice, stacking documents on top of each other before organizing the piles into different folders. “I was so restless today, I could only focus when most of the staff had gone home. I didn’t realize it until I saw your message.”

“It’s alright,” you assure her lightly, “are you okay?”

Yukong looks up at you with a small smile, your concern appreciated. “Yes. Just… not quite myself at the moment.”

“You probably need a break. Let’s go home so you can eat, and I could give you a massage if you want.”

She hums. Your words sound nice but they’re not enough to keep her attention off the work waiting for her on her desk. She glances back at it, lingering on a certain pile to her right, and the tip of her ears twitch the way it does when she’s about to say something you won’t like.

“I still need to finish those though…”

You lay the bag of dumplings on the ground, freeing your hands to cross your arms over your chest. Yukong pointedly avoids the purse of your lips.

“They’ll still be here tomorrow.”

“Yes, that’s the problem. If I finish tonight, I can focus my attention on other matters tomorrow.”

“You’ve been working for hours. When was the last time you took a break? Two in the afternoon?”

Yukong’s smile turns apologetic. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

You don’t throw in the towel, instead shifting close to where she sits and lifting a leg to straddle her lap. Yukong lets out a soft sound of surprise, instinctively raising her hands so you can get comfortable on her plump thighs. You feel the desk’s edge against your lower back. Her eyes meet yours and you circle her neck with your arms, fiddling with a few strands of silky hair and curling them gently around your fingers. Her body is warm, like always, and you can’t help a smile at the unimpressed look she gives you even as one of her hands rests against your waist. If the place wasn’t totally empty, she would have pushed you off.

“What are you doing?”

“Now you have to focus on me.” From up close, the smooth bow of her lips seems to draw you in. Your gaze flitters to its pink curve before taking in her narrowing eyes.

“I really need to finish this, kit.”

“But do you?”

Yukong simply sighs once more. You know she’s close to breaking, to succumb to your insistent wishes, she just needs a little push. Your fingers leave her long hair to ghost over her warm cheek with your nails, drawing senseless patterns on her skin. There’s a faint flush across her face, and you briefly wonder if she’s feeling hotter than usual. You can feel the tension in her shoulders evaporate slightly at the loving gesture, but she also shifts under you a few times, seemingly restless. To convince her further, you lift a hand to the back of her left ear and brush the soft fur at your disposal in a languid motion. Her lashes flutter involuntarily.

“Come on…” you support your saccharine tone with a small pout, “go home with me?”

“It would be irresponsible—”

You don’t let her articulate her argument. You lean forward to press a chaste kiss on her lips and despite its short duration, her words melt on her tongue. The taste of her is familiar and brings comfort you only find in her. You can’t resist capturing her mouth with your own a second time and Yukong lets you, eyes falling shut. She returns your sweet kisses as you absentmindedly stroke the back of her ear, and a little quiver runs through it at your gentle touch. Again, her thighs shift under your weight, brushing together almost unconsciously. Her breath blends with yours with every quiet exhale through her nose. You’re first to withdraw from her puckered lips, gaze dulled by the tenderness of the moment. The pink hue of her cheeks spreads to the base of her neck and her chest rises a beat quicker. Her hands now hold your body to hers.

You recognize the veil over her irises as she looks at you, the sight of her dilating pupils is the last piece of the puzzle concerning her mood lately. The prominent flush of her skin, her restlessness— you spare a glance behind her and notice the sway of her fluffy tail. Her affliction becomes obvious.

“Yukong…” you start slowly, and she already looks embarrassed at her reaction to a few kisses, avoiding your growing smile for a moment. You bring her back to face you with kind fingers under her jaw. “Don’t be like that, Helm Master. Are you getting a little needy?”

Yukong makes a face that illustrates her self-consciousness. She doesn’t respond, but you don’t need a reply.

“Tell you what,” you continue, “we can go home and I’ll gladly take care of you, or… I could always get you off right here, right now.”

The mortification on her features makes you laugh and she swats your hand away from her chin, shaking her head like she aims to erase the thoughts that popped in her mind at your suggestion.

“Don’t be lewd.” She pauses for a couple of seconds after reprimanding you. “We can go home.”

You wear a smug smile as you stand from her lap and watch her put away her documents. She locks them in a drawer, quickly tidies up her desk and ignores your triumphant face all the while. She’s still flustered, you see it in the movements of her tail and the blush that colors her collarbones. You decide not to tease her further for now and readily lace your fingers with hers after she offers you a hand, picking up the food off the ground and leaving the Palace of Astrum behind for the night. Her warmth travels to your palm and up to your chest like a soothing balm and you drink in her proximity on your way back, occasionally pulling her to your side when she strays too far for your liking.

Yukong’s desire is written along her body, it’s in the flick of her ear and the grip of her hand around yours as you make your way home, and in the eagerness with which she pulls you forward to kiss you once you’re behind closed doors. Your breath is stolen by her fervent touches, her tongue wets your lips the moment they part, and it takes you a couple of minutes to regain your bearings. She is flushed against you, trapping you between her burning skin and the front door. She takes what she wants because she can’t help it and is too embarrassed to ask for it. Your hands squeeze her waist and a muffled noise sounds from somewhere in her throat. In one swift motion, you switch places with her, pressing her back to the door and her chest to yours. Your mouth doesn’t let her go, not that she minds. Your blissful sighs become one with each exhale and your hands dip into the cuts of her dress over her hips to feel more of her skin. You think you feel her shiver. Yukong’s kisses are eager with the hint of a desperation that you find deeply endearing. She verbalizes her needs through soft, muffled moans against your lips, and your mind fogs up with arousal at the low tone of her voice. Your knee wriggles between her thighs just to hear the sharp intake of breath from her mouth.

Her body is pliable under your hands, it bends and moves at your will as you lead Yukong to the bedroom, the takeout you bought forgotten somewhere near the entrance of the house. You’re suddenly hungry for something else. Yukong can’t control the sway of her tail or the hairs that rise across her body, you find it so arousing to witness her reaction to your devoted touch; you undress her carefully even in the face of her impatience, letting the fabric of her dress crumple to the floor, and you take a measured step backwards to admire the curves of her stomach and hips. She tugs you to the bed with a hand. When she gets like this, your weight on her grounds her to the present, to the open-mouthed kisses you plant over her jaw and the sensation of your fingers digging into her thigh. Wetness pools in her underwear just from having you so close.

“Hah… Mmnh…”

Yukong makes the sweetest noises when you finally take pity on her and trail your tongue up her wet slit, collecting her arousal like it’s a treat to be enjoyed. The dark hairs on her cunt are slick with her need, and like an obedient pup she keeps her thighs spread for you, allowing you to lose yourself in the heat between her legs. Her tangy taste overpowers your senses. Part of you hears the quiet moans that tumble from Yukong’s lips and feels her fingers in your hair, holding you firmly against her pussy, but your nose is buried in her and you can’t focus on anything else. Her clit throbs for your attention so you comply with her silent request and wrap your lips around the aching bud, sucking it lightly into your mouth. Your arms are around her thighs to keep her close, and you eat her out as if she was a glass of cool water on a hot summer day.

“K-Kit—“

The loving nickname, in this context, makes you moan into her cunt. Your tongue laves her puffy lips steadily, sometimes teasing her dripping entrance for more of her taste etched onto the walls of your mouth. You feel a throbbing sensation between your legs but ignore it for now, fully dedicated to having Yukong come on your tongue. Her breasts rise and fall with the beating of her lungs, perky nipples hard as gemstones and just as pretty. Her hips meet the pace of your mouth, desperate for her impending release. The tremble of her thighs indicate how close she is to coming for you and you flick her sensitive clit with your tongue a few times to send her over the edge.

Her eyes squeeze shut with the intensity of her release and a pitiful sound of pleasure sticks to the back of her throat, her cunt throbbing beneath your devout mouth. You lap up the cum smeared over her pussy with a satisfied hum. Yukong’s breaths are heavy, she lays against the pillows as she comes down from her high, and you clean her up as one would savor an iced dessert. Softly sucking on her clit earns you a noise close to a whimper. She’s too far gone to feel embarrassed about the sounds she’s making, the thought makes you smile.

You raise your head to look at her properly. You run your hands up her hips. She’s so beautiful, wrecked by your tongue. Yukong blinks slowly, gazing down at you through lidded eyes, and you recognize that lustful stare. You’ll be ruining her multiple times before the night ends; she won’t be entirely satisfied until her limbs ache and she’s emptied herself for you.

[cloveroctobers]

LOVE FOR A MINUTE — ARMANDO ARETAS [Summer Randoms]

A/N: I did say I was going to take a break with my summer collection soon but uh…THIS IS ACTUALLY SHORT WORK SO IT DOESNT COUNT! Anyways what if I bring you a dash of some mess that I randomly started writing on my lunch break based off one of my current overplayed songs?🏃🏽‍♀️

WARNINGS: language, toxicity, arranged marriages, mentions of gun violence, use of y/n & infidelity!

SYNOPSIS: in which Armando is trying to figure out a lot of things in his life but…it’s always something.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁

All it took was some passionfruit soda to figure out that you were cheating on him. Not only cheating but with someone he unfortunately worked alongside of.

Rafe.

And Armando already couldn’t stand his obnoxious ass. It didn’t take him long to figure it out either, the dots being connected unbeknownst to you and it was no secret that Armando was a man of few words but he was also very observant. Rafe had no issue being the loudest in the room, the type of co-worker that loved playing videos on his phone on the highest of volumes that one of his speakers was actually on its way out.

Rafe was all protein shakes, açaí bowls, and early morning workout routines but the moment he showed up with a plastic filled cup with a colorful beverage, burping up a storm from the other side of Kelly, who kept giving him warnings while she cleaned her favorite weapon of choice at her spot of the desk, that was the final blow for Armando.

Armando looked away from his own desk which was off to the side away from the original AMMO members—he had his own personal sticker thanks to the amusement of the team which read: does not play well with others right on the side of the table, he fully turned to face Rafe who laughed it up.

“C’moooooon, That was the best one!” Rafe held his hands up in defense.

Dorn rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, “not only are you annoyingly distracting, you also reek, dude. What the hell are you drinking?”

The ADHD must be kicking in as Rafe now had one hand on his phone, texting away with his thumb, giving Armando enough time to sneak up and catch a glimpse of a bikini photo that looked awfully familiar before Rafe quickly locked his phone. He clears his throat, lifting his head to meet Armando standing over him.

“Can I help you? Ever heard of personal space?”

Armando lifts his chin, his voice naturally low as he states, “Let me see your phone.”

“Uhhhh? No?”

“I’m not asking.”

“Which is exactly why I’m not handing it over.” Rafe smirked.

Armando crossed his arms, “You got something to hide?”

“No.” Rafe scoffed, “I just don’t appreciate you standing over me like you’re fucking Michael myers or something, making demands. We’re not even friends and I know you got your own phone, whether it’s from your deadbeat dad or from some dirty money you probably have stashed away.”

Hands were placed right on Rafe, making Dorn widen his eyes from his spot at the sound of impact while he sat at the end of the desk. Armando had his hands right at Rafe’s shirt, but not without slapping his hands flat against Rafe’s chest, almost knocking the wind out of him as Armando bunched up his shirt while he got right in Rafe’s face. “…Seems like you had a lot to say about me behind my back, so why don’t you say it all to my face this time?”

“Yeah okay…” Rafe starts as he sizes Armando up, “Maybe you should go on your lunch break because you’re doing a lot right now. More than usual.”

Armando doesn’t miss a beat, “Maybe I should ask your girl to join me instead. You know the one? The one you keep stringing along and is also the mother of your baby girl?”

Rafe tightens his square jaw, “what the fuck are you getting at, bro?”

Armando darkens his stare, “I see right through you, bro.”

“Oh yeah?”

“So I’m actually going to ask you a question that I already know the answer to: are you fucking my wife?”

Kelly and Dorn both flick their gazes to each other’s.

Rafe licks his full lips, breaking eye contact for a moment, but he knew he had an audience so he keeps his usual persona up, “…I’ll give her back if you want?”

And that was enough for Armando to swing. He didn’t need to know the details from Rafe but he needed to make the message clear, it was always fuck Rafe around these parts, and he stood on that. However Rafe wasn’t one to back down from a fight and sure he maybe taller than Armando, the well known muscle of the team but none of that means anything to Armando. He’s had plenty of bodies left to rot all over—so in short—none of these men were punks.

“As much as I love a good fight, I’m exhausted dealing with you assholes everyday! So cut the shit.” Kelly yells, one arm pressed up against Rafe’s throat on the other side of the room while Dorn is also holding Armando back.

Dorn nods, “We’re supposed to be a team, here!”

“He sucker punched me in the face!” Rafe points, “and we were forced to work with his bitch ass anyways!”

Armando pants, “The only backstabbing bitch I see here is you, motherfucker.”

“Oh whatever! I don’t owe you anything. You’re in your feelings over a chick that just wasn’t that into you and you knew that so you want to take it out on me.” Rafe yells, “face it, you got played by someone that was forced to be with you because of mommy dearest.”

Armando laughs humorlessly, ducking underneath Dorn’s arms but he jogs right after him, grabbing his wrists and pulling them back while yanking Armando, “I’m surprised it took this long for someone to knock you on your ass.”

“Oh it’s been awhile.” Kelly chimes in over her shoulder.

Rafe rolls his eyes, recalling just what Kelly was talking about, “I’d split your eyebrow open if it wasn’t for Mr. And Mrs. Smith here. And you got me while I was sitting, which is weak by the way.”

Armando shrugs, “what difference would it make? you’d still be garbage.”

“All that anger should go to someone who cares and newsflash, it’s not me.” Rafe mockingly grins at the ex-crime boss.

Dorn interupts, “wait…all this is over y/n? Rafe…the one you were sexting and talking about is y/n?”

Kelly throws her head back with a shake of her head, just wondering why her boyfriend would add more salt to the wound. Dorn sometimes ended up speaking his thoughts out loud before thinking them over, truly.

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Someone gets an B-!”

However that didn’t stop Kelly from shoving her forearm tighter up the dark haired man’s throat, making him wheeze. Rafe raises his hand in surrender as a sign that he was just joking.

“That’s fucked up, dude.” Dorn slowly loosen’s his grip on Armando who side eyes him for holding him back, then fixes his shirt, “on so many levels.”

The four in the room couldn’t erase the tension but two familiar forms definitely could.

“What is going on in here?!” Captain Secada demanded, as she viewed the damage to the tech, Rafe’s busted lip, who tried to hide the evidence by pulling his lips into his mouth, spilled fruit soda dripping off the counter and onto the desk chair, Kelly let’s go of the Asian man, placing her hands on her hips as she looked back and forth between the men in further irritation, Dorn awkwardly scratches the back of his head, and Armando appeared as if he was ready to leap again.

Detective Lowrey steps into Armando’s view, who still appeared as if he was looking right through his biological father, right at Rafe.

“Mando, talk to us.”

He says nothing, making Mike rub his jaw in frustration at the common wall his son liked to put up. “My guess is: Rafe got what was comin’ to him.”

Kelly snorts while Dorn nods his head, quickly looking away once Rafe throws his hands up is confusion on why Dorn didn’t have his back. Rita sends Mike a warning look but he just shrugs as he turns to stand side ways, so that he can get a good look at everyone again.

“Regardless of what happened before we arrived—which I will find out—Do I need to remind you all that this is a place of business, where professionalism and team work is supposed to be the number one priority?”

Rafe huffs, “try telling that to the cartel Tasmanian devil over there. I know what oath I took to be here…some people were just handed shit.”

All eyes snapped to Rafe at that.

He just didn’t know when to quit.

Armando snickered as he scratches at the side of his nose by his beauty mark. Although his heart was drumming in his chest over the truth, he kept his cool—now.

“…That’s fine, next time I’ll just put the gun in your mouth instead.”

“WHOA! WHOA! ALRIGHT!” Mike scolded, although he didn’t blame Armando, he didn’t need him locked up again.

While Rita interjected, “that’s enough you two!”

“I think that’s my cue to go home for the day.” Armando stated, not looking for permission from either of the higher ranks, as he turns to start grabbing a few of his items: phone, keys, and his backpack.

“Tell y/n I said wassup.” Rafe raises his chin while Armando sends him one last look with a mocking laugh, motioning a gun at him on his way out.

Mike runs his hands over his goatee as Rita sends him a glance, making him quickly dip his head to follow his son out of the trailer part of the building.

“Mando, hey!” Mike calls out to the shorter man who’s making his way over to his car.

Armando keeps moving, unlocking the door to the car, throwing his things into the passenger side. When Mike slams his hands down on the hood of the car, Armando turns from the ajar door to meet Mike’s eyes.

“Don’t do nothing stupid. Not when you’ve come this far.” Mike tells Armando, whose eyes are as dark as black coffee.

Armando blinks, “Sure, I’m a murderer turned agent but I’m not down for being disrespected.”

“Okay,” Mike nods, “I feel that. And I’m proud that you lasted this long not popping that asswipe in the mouth.”

Armando snorts, already being aware that Rafe had his share of words with Mike as well.

“Tell me now, are you plotting something against y/n too?”

“No.” Armando shrugged his shoulders, “I been knew—

“But you loved her so that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, right? You can be real with me.” Mike suggests.

Armando deeply inhales, “…I don’t think I know much about love after all, Mike.”

And with that, he climbs into the car, starting the engine, leaving the man on the outside to step out of the way and watch Armando go.

The stories you tried to spin when you got Armando to finally talk to you, made him blow up on you. It’s not the first fight you’ve ever had, the relationships always been toxic. Your mothers were in jail together, you and Armando were practically raised in that facility together in Mexico City until a certain age and then you were both uprooted away from your moms and away from each other.

Somehow you found your way back together, whereas Armando went into training underneath Benito Aretas, you didn’t exactly grow up in a loving home either. Finding yourselves into crooked crime and wealth, you both did well for yourselves and it was written in stone that you two would be in an arranged marriage. Your mother ended up dying in prison but that was her dying wish, believing that Isabel would do right by you.

Depends on how you define that.

You became Mrs. Aretas at twenty-one but once you came to the states and got a taste of a different life, you changed. Armando was always on a mission and ultimately you were on a different one.

You two were no longer a team so it seemed, carrying on tasks on your own where at times your home in Florida started to feel colder at times.

“I’m out here forced to pay off my debts with people I don’t even care for like that, knowing that my wife is doing me dirty. How do you expect me to continue living your famous lie of: everything’s fine when it’s far from it?” Armando asks after you slapped the laptop that he was working on, right off the dining table.

You’re folding your arms, “nothing about our relationship has been a lie, i love you and wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t regardless of what our mother’s wanted. I just—

“ Last I heard you don’t cheat on people you claim to love—guess that’s something you have in common with my mother.” Armando leans back in the chair, fingers folded together.

Raising your brows you deeply exhale, “Look…I know you’re pissed off with me and you have every right to be but i dont appreciate you comparing me to Isabel. I’m not anything like her.”

Armando shrugs his shoulders, “manipulative, selfish, calculated, narcissistic—

“Wow! Say it with your whole chest then.”

“You fucked up, so I’m done.”

“W-what?”

“All those years gone just like that.” Armando feels his jaw about to shake, “and with Rafe of all people? He’s somebody’s whole father and you know he treat’s Kennicott like shit so what was it? The crimson chin?”

You clench your eyes shut, “this is no excuse but the first time we were all drunk and at the club, Mike was there—

“Don’t bring him into this,” Armando snaps, knowing where you were going, “we been had that conversation months ago. You know what? I don’t even need the whole rundown because I’ve already got the gist. I just want to know when I should expect you out by.”

He’s back on his phone, app open to make a schedule and reminders already.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You argue.

Armando keeps a straight face although his brow wants to raise in annoyance, “cool then I’ll leave and have some people stop by to get my things within a week.”

“Armando.” You start, waterworks rising as you begin to follow him, “we can work this out.”

Armando stops in his tracks, almost making you bump into the back of him. He says over his shoulder, “there’s nothing else to work out, this hasn’t been working and I’ve constantly been turning the other cheek since we got here together. Since I got locked up but I guess you forgot about what a commitment entails. Maybe we’re better off without each other for good this time.”

Angrily wiping your tears you grit at his retreating form down the hallway that led to one of the five bedrooms, laundry room, and the side door that led to the car port outside, “don’t tell me you’re just gonna go off and fuck off with Kennicott and her kid? how cliche!”

He puts his shades on in the driver’s side as you rest your hands on the rolled down window, “take care of yourself the best way you know how, y/n and good luck with Rafe. Who knows how much longer he’s got left?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly, what that means.” Armando’s stare is heated even behind his expensive shades, “please, watch your feet. I’m outta here.”

You’re left a gapping fish, jumping back as Armando reversed out of the car port and out of your life for good, if he can help it.

“Hi sweetie,” you smile down at the five year old by the swings as you briefly peek back at Kennicott standing in front of Armando who’s sitting on the bench, shielding the sun from his eyes but his faint dimples are showing as he peers up at her like she created the damn sun.

You start to wonder when’s the last time he’s looked at you like that.

It’s been some time since he emptied his things out the shared home you had together. You still tried to keep up conversations and hookups with Rafe, mostly to keep tabs on Armando but Rafe caught on quick to your game. That’s when the ghosting started and you running up on every other girl Rafe tried to bring back to his place.

Deeming you as crazy but it wouldn’t be the first time.

This wasn’t healthy, you knew this but you couldn’t help yourself. Why did Rafe think he could just get rid of you? And why did Armando think he can just move on and do exactly what you knew he would do.

That’s where you got it wrong.

He wasn’t dating Kennicott but she did manage to get some smiles out of him. Of course he already knew her since she came around to headquarters doing sweet things for Rafe and the team that he never appreciated. It was like Kennicott was a bother to Rafe yet she was also the mother of his child? She deserved better much like Armando did and if you wanted to look at it in a petty way…it was nice to get underneath Rafe’s skin in the process by being her friend.

You still didn’t sign the divorce papers but when you received them, you thought about doing a drive by to be honest. That was more Armando’s style but it wouldn’t be so different than what you normally got into. Before getting to that you started off small, by keeping tabs on those Armando affiliated with and placing a tracker on Kennicott’s emerald green 4Runner. Which led to the park Kennicott always brought her daughter to on Saturdays.

Wednesdays were swimming lessons, Thursdays were Kennicott’s late nights at the office so baby girl was usually with Rafe’s mom. You had their schedule down pat and it was the perfect time to execute.

“Y/n?!” Armando screamed your name as you handed the five year old off to your accomplice in the backseat.

It was like slow motion as you spotted a worried Kennicott gripping Armando’s forearm, once your eyes switched from their comfortability and back up to their faces, you sent a wicked smile before tossing the door back and hoping into the tinted car.

Armando knows he could have taken the shot but you were still his wife, there were plenty of witnesses and children, and he always had the risk of being thrown back in jail hanging over his head. He knew your game, actually fell in love with it, so all he could do for right now was embrace a distraught Kennicott underneath his arm and call it in.

If that’s how you wanted to play, he was guaranteed to win.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁

Continue reading my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

[elleloquently]

Hi love. I’m having a bad day and I just need some Ellie fluff. Can it be about something like Ellie comforts reader because she’s crying and upset about her parents. (Reader doesn’t have the best parents and they aren’t really around) if you can do this request I’d appreciate it so much <3

-S xox

| a/n : got to work on this the moment that it appeared in my inbox. hope it's okay !!!! <3 and i hope ur day turns around ):

| c/w : vague but implied bad relationship w family, comfort, joel is in this briefly lmao. established relationship.

found family - ellie williams

you hated bothering ellie, and you hated that you thought of it as bothering when it wasn't really that at all. whenever you referred to it as bothering, ellie always called you out on it.

"you realize we're dating, right?" ellie would say, rolling her eyes with a fondness that she only held for you. "if you didn't wanna be around me, then we'd have something to worry about."

you sniffled, looking at your phone in your lap. she was busy tonight, probably playing games with jesse or hanging out with dina or something. you didn't mind, not really, but you were on edge tonight.

you didn't want to be alone, but you didn't want to be a burden.

after a pathetic debate with yourself, you decided to text her anyway.

whatcha doing? you sent, hoping it was casual enough and not at all bothersome.

ellie replied almost instantly, and your heart seized.

Missing you. How are you holding up?

you frowned down at your phone screen. how were you holding up? you brought your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. if you held your breath, the world around you would be silent. your lock screen faded to black after going untouched, the only light in your room disappearing. you blinked in the darkness. night had fallen, and you didn't bother with turning on the light.

your phone sounded once more, causing you to wince.

Everything okay?

you pushed out a sigh, immediately feeling guilty and wishing you could take back the simple message.

no, everything was not okay, and ellie was probably already beginning to suspect that. you had a rough day, which seemed to be much more common lately. arriving home to an empty house was your breaking point, expected but still disappointing.

the idea of being alone so often used to excite you, the possibilities of growing independent and getting to be yourself without experiencing any scrutiny. the reality lost its charm quickly.

the grass is always greener, which you knew but still tended to wish for the opposite of whatever you had at the time. the house with your family around felt like an overstimulating nightmare, you were always on edge. during those moments, you would do anything for an empty house. when the house was empty, you didn't care if words spoken were biting or sarcastic, you just wanted to hear something.

you drew a shaky breath, picking up your phone from your bed. your thumbs danced over the keyboard, you weren't sure if you should be honest or just play it off. the uncertainty of reactions freaked you out, even though ellie never made you regret being open with her.

all good! you typed quickly, pressing send before you had too much time to think about it. within a minute, your phone was ringing.

"you have got to get better at lying," ellie automatically said, not giving you time for a hello.

"what?" you frowned, falling back onto your pillows. "all i said was two words," you defended.

"two words that smell like bullshit," ellie claimed. you picked at your fingernail, trying to think of a response.

"it's not," you replied stiffly. everything was so quiet, you felt like you had to whisper.

"oh my god! ladies and gentlemen, she just keeps going," ellie exclaimed. you pictured her going all wide eyed and you giggled, feeling your mood instantly begin to shift.

"sorry," you muttered. "i'm just..." lonely. "bored," you said definitively.

"want company?" ellie asked.

"aren't you busy?" you asked, perking up at her question.

"nope. i'm about to leave dina's," ellie explained.

you sat up quickly, straightening your top. your house wasn't far from dina's, and you wouldn't mind ellie making you a quick pit stop.

"i'd love some company," you admitted, standing up from your bed to turn on a light. the sudden brightness caused you to blink rapidly, and you heard ellie laugh, presumably at your sudden enthusiasm.

"that's my girl, i'll be just a minute."

you hung up the phone as fast as you could, wanting to meet ellie at the front door. you lingered in the doorway of your bedroom however, feeling childishly anxious. the rest of the house was dark, empty. it made you feel so uneasy. you simultaneously felt too big, yet too small. you mentally shook off the thoughts, quickly dashing through the house and turning on lights, making it appear brighter. happier.

the sound of a car outside made your pulse quicken, and you bounded to the door, throwing it open before ellie had a chance to knock. you immediately threw your arms around her, and she made a sound of surprise.

"you know we just saw each other yesterday, right?" ellie teased, but the easy smile left her face once she took in her surroundings, or lack thereof. no extra cars filled the driveway, and your sudden fling of affection was only one that would happen if your family wasn't around to witness it.

"'m sorry," you mumbled against ellie's shoulder, and she replied by wrapping her arms tightly around you.

"hey, it's cold out here, let's get you inside," ellie suggested lightly.

you nodded and retreated, standing to the side to allow ellie more room. she awkwardly stepped inside, not really sure what to do with her body.

you closed and locked the door, leaning your back against it as you took in the sight of your girlfriend. she was cute bundled up in her jacket, cheeks and nose pink from the cold. it made your heart warm.

ellie glanced around the room, unsure if she should address the obvious issue or leave it alone. you avoided eye contact, poking at the floor with your socked foot.

"no one home tonight?" ellie asked quietly, eyeing you carefully.

you opened your mouth to speak, but instantly clamped it shut as your eyes began to sting with tears. you nodded instead, plastering a weak smile onto your face.

the state of you made ellie's stomach hurt, and she wanted nothing more than to sweep you away and make sure that you always felt wanted, important.

"that's okay," ellie continued. "want me to stick around? hang out?" she offered sincerely, wringing her hands together.

you nodded, thought about it, and then shook your head instead. you wanted to be with ellie, but not here. it made it seem fake somehow, like playing pretend. living amongst ghosts.

"it's just," you tried feebly to explain, but your voice broke and with it came the tears. ellie was on you in an instant, pulling you into a hug.

"i know. it's okay. i got you," ellie muttered as you cried, finally allowing yourself to break instead of just swallowing it down, adding to the lump in your throat that never really seemed to go away.

"jus' not here," you tried to explain, and ellie knew. she quickly nodded in understanding, feeling confident about the backup plan that she had managed to hatch in a matter of seconds. maybe she couldn't sweep you away for forever, but she could at least for tonight.

ellie pulled away just slightly so she could look at you. you wiped your eyes, eyebrows drawing together at the seperation.

"i have an idea," ellie proposed to you. you tilted your head, curious.

"joel has this movie that he said i need to watch, probably some old man movie," ellie pretended to complain, and she really played it up when she noticed that it made you smile. "why don't you come? we can have a movie night, the three of us."

your eyes lit up in excitement, but you drew away from her in doubt.

"i don't know," you muttered discouragingly. "i don't wanna impose, 'specially if it's your thing," you sniffed.

"pfffffft," ellie shook her head, rolling her eyes. "seriously? joel fucking loves you," ellie ranted. you looked at the floor, hiding the smile that grew on your face. "i think he'd be just fine if you showed up and i didn't," ellie continued, tapping you once on the nose.

you wrinkled your nose in response, finally meeting ellie's eyes. "that's not true," you disagreed.

ellie looked at you thoughtfully. "let's make 'em really happy then, and both show up."

you raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. honestly though, you really wanted to go. ellie knew you were hesitating. "i'm not leaving without you," she threatened.

you pressed your lips together to avoid a smile. "i'm in my pajamas," you complained.

ellie glanced over you, shrugging with a grin. "perfect," she complimented. before you could protest once more, ellie turned and walked deeper into your house, leaving you alone and confused.

"what are you doing?" you called, rooted in confusion. your question was answered when different sections of the house fell dark once more, ellie turning off the lights for you.

she appeared once again in a matter of seconds, your keys and phone present in her hands. "thank you," you uttered shly.

ellie had convinced you and of course you agreed, stomach fluttering with butterflies. you didn't even bother with shoes, and instead shoved your feet into slippers before following ellie outside.

you were sleepy during the car ride, leaning your head against the cold window. you felt a little drained from crying.

just as ellie had assured, joel was happy to see you. within a matter of minutes you were wrapped up in blankets, snacks on display for your potential wanting. joel talked a lot throughout the movie but you didn't mind, you actually found it comforting.

ellie pretended to be annoyed with joel's commentary, but she was genuinely interested in the film, and asked questions that prompted more talking. ellie was, however, quickly shushed by joel every time that she tried to give her own take. joel grumbled about people who talk through movies, to which yourself and ellie shared a look. it was hard to suppress your laughter but you didn't really need to. both ellie and joel were perfectly pleased whenever you laughed at a joke.

you felt happy like this, comfortable, safe, all of the things you desperately wanted to be all of the time.

if ellie had any say in the matter, which, she sorta did, she would absolutely ensure it. that was a promise that she continued to keep, time and time again.

[queenariesofnarnia]

Honey {e.s}

Egon Spengler x f!Reader

this is my first time writing anything for the ghostbusters! so it'll probably suck :) gif not mine

The wind tickled your face as you walked to work clutching a box of doughnuts and holding a tray of coffee. The click of your heeled boots faded into the morning sounds of the city. You worked with the ghostbusters helping Janine out with phone calls and paperwork. You were the one who kept the cabinets and fridge stocked at the station. As you walked in you could hear the music coming from Ray’s radio, the shuffling of Janine’s paperwork, and the sound of Egon tinkering with his pack.

“I have arrived with coffee and donuts my darlings” you call out as you use your foot to shut the door. There was now a shuffle of footsteps heading for you and yells of excitement.

Janine took the box of doughnuts from your arms as you handed them each their specific coffee.

“You are truly an angel amongst this lot” Peter praises accepting his coffee. You laugh rolling your eyes at his antics. Winston patted your shoulder as he sipped his coffee.

“You get it right every time” He smiles at you. Ray gives you his usual good morning hug taking the hot cup from your gloved hands. Janine is grateful to accept the drink before the phone begins to ring. You grab Egon’s favorite doughnut from the box and his coffee heading for his lab.

“I have your breakfast Dr. Spengler” you announce entering the lab. Little did you know Egon would get flustered each time you called him by his title. You were the type of person that called people pet names when you truly care for them. Whenever you call him ‘honey’ he melts, but you don’t know that. Seeing you in a stylish yet warm outfit with a bright smile on your face holding food for him made him feel something he couldn’t describe.

“How many times must I tell you calling me Egon is fine” he jests taking the doughnut and coffee from you.

“As many times as it takes for me to get it right honey. Enjoy your food I’ll be back shortly” you disappear into the station to go about your daily tasks. After a few hours of tackling your more demanding tasks you decide to check the pantry and fridge taking note of everything they need. Asking everyone to pick their own personal snacks. As you head out you pop into the lab after softly knocking to alert Egon of your presence.

“Honey, I’m going to get some groceries for the kitchen. Do you need anything while I’m out?” asking as you stroll over to his desk with your pen and notepad. “I already put a box of Cheez-It’s on the list for you. I saw that you were low” you add.

“I think that’s all then. Are you going alone?” he asks as you get ready to walk away.

“Yup, I’m going to walk there, shouldn’t be too bad” replying with a light shrug, at that he stood up discarding his lab coat, replacing it with his suit jacket. “Egon, honey I can go alone” you try to convince him.

“I’m overdue for a break anyways. I can carry the bags for you.” He places aa hand on the small of your back walking you out the lab. You receive curious looks from the rest of the team.

“We’ll be back darlings!” you inform them, before realizing you left your purse in the kitchen. “I have to go grab my purse. I’ll be right back hon” Peter had a shit-eating grin on his face looking at Egon. Janine was giggling trying to cover it up with her magazine. Ray and Winston just looked smug.

“You got it bad Spengs” Peter grinned at his friend.

“Almost as bad as she has it” Winston adds.

“Just ask her out, I promise she wouldn’t say no” Ray says popping a cigarette between his lips. Janine makes a noise of agreement as you return to the room.

“Come on honey let’s go” you grab Egon’s large hand lightly pulling him out the station.

“Take your time honey! We’ll miss you” Peter hollers behind you two as the door closes. You expect Egon to let go of your hand as you exited the station, but his grip tightened instead. Holding you closer through the crowd as he leads you both to the store. Grabbing a buggy once you arrive he offers to push it as you collect everything on the list. Just taking the store aisle by aisle since Peter said take your time, you’ll use it to your advantage. You added some groceries you needed for your apartment as well. As you searched for the items needed, Egon just admired you. He helped you when you needed to get things from a higher shelf. That’s when you took your turn to admire him. Winston wasn’t wrong that you had it bad for Egon. How could you not? You may not be into science as much as he does, but you loved to hear him talk about his findings and his interests. You would let him talk to you about anything, and he even listened when you would talk about your interests. He never made you feel like you were less intelligent, he thought you were brilliant and provided stimulating conversation. As you tried to reach a box of your favorite cereal, Egon chuckled watching your attempt before reaching right past you to grab it.  

“You two look like such a sweet couple” a pair of elderly ladies gushed. Instead of ruining their vision you flash them a sparkling smile, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Thank you so much! He’s the absolute sweetest, just like honey” you gush looking up at him for a moment before looking back at the ladies.

“I bet he is. You two enjoy yourselves. Love is a wonderful thing” the shorter of the ladies say grabbing the taller one’s hand looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

“Have a wonderful day lovelies!” you wished them as they headed past you. You haven’t let go of Egon yet. His hand rested on your waist keeping you between him and the buggy. He only let you go to grab the items on the list until it was time to pay. Once everything was bagged and paid for he took hold of your hand as you walked back to the station. He’s been quiet since the conversation with the ladies, but not in an uncomfortable way. More like the gears were turning in his brain trying to figure out what to say. When the fire station was in sight he began walking faster pulling you along to keep up with his long strides. A chorus of ‘hello’s or welcome back’ rang through the station, but he was on a mission, so your ‘hi darlings’ trailed off quickly.  Placing the bags he carried on the counter he gestured for you to do the same. However, he stopped you from putting away the groceries.

“What’s wrong honey?” you asked concerned, you haven’t seen him look this flustered since you gave him a hug for the first time.

“Why didn’t you correct the ladies in the store?” he asked as he started pacing around the kitchen.

“They looked so precious Egon. The way they looked at us. I couldn’t tell them otherwise. Besides why would I want to disagree with them?” you rhetorically asked. Pausing in his pacing, he stares at you like you said something crazy. “Don’t give me that look Spengler” you huffed leaning against the counter, crossing your arms looking away from him.

“You wouldn’t mind being seen with me?” he asked in a low tone. It was your turn to look at him crazy.

“Are you kidding?” you pause taking in the look on his face, he was genuinely asking. “Egon, honey why would I ever mind being seen with you? It is an absolute honor in my eyes to be seen with you” you reach for his hands. “How are you so smart, yet so oblivious?”

“I am not oblivious” he retorts with a pout.

“Egon, I love you but you’re oblivious. How upfront do I need to be to get you to understand?” you ask gazing into his warm eyes. You let his hands go breaking the moment. “I’ll start putting the groceries away, we can continue this later” turning away quickly dismissing your admission. Despite what you were trying to do, Egon had different plans. He gently grabs your hand turning you around pinning you between his body and the counter.

“Can you say it again?” his tone was almost desperate, as if he didn’t believe you could possibly feel that way for him.

“I love you” your voice was soft, but your tone was firm which left no room for arguing. Throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down for a kiss catching him by surprise. One of his hands stays gripping the counter behind you as the other holds your bodies close together. His lips were quick to match the rhythm of yours, he pulls back your noses touching.

“ I love you too by the way” he breathlessly chuckles.

“I would hope so with a kiss like that Dr. Spengler” you tease.

“I quite enjoy when you call me doctor” his grip tightened on your waist.

“Okay lovers no making little science babies in the kitchen” Peter interrupts before Egon has the chance to kiss you again.

“I’ll just take Dr. Spengler home then Venkman. We’ll see you tomorrow darlings” you grab Egon’s hand dragging him out the station. “Also whoever puts the groceries away for me gets a home cooked meal of their choice” you shout back into the station before shutting the door. Egon had a goofy grin on his face as you dragged him through the busy sidewalk.

[yourstarstruckbeloved]

i. the beginning of the end

5 pm. you take a hearty stretch and lean backwards in your office chair to catch a glimpse of the orange sun that peeks through the window next to your cubicle. the city bustles below you, and you yawn as you shut the lid of your laptop and carefully place it in your bag. headphones on before you even step foot out the door, you make your way to the railway station as quickly as you can. you’re just in time for the next train, so you hurry up the stairs, slightly out of breath when you get to the platform. you murmur a thanks to the officer at the door of the train and grab onto the railings. a small chime resounds in your pocket and you pull your phone out. it’s a message from kazuha. actually, five.

kazu <3: [1 attachment] kazu <3: i met this cat on the way back from work! her name is mei :) kazu <3: have you left work yet? kazu <3: could you please swing by the grocery store real quick on your way back? i was going to make dinner, but noticed that we ran out of salt kazu <3: i hope you haven’t troubled yourself to do it, i just found the reserve!! a nice dinner awaits you 😁

you can feel your heart doing backflips in your ribcage and you can’t seem to stop the grin that erupts on your face. you type in a quick i just left work! <3 and hold your phone close to your heart. it’s been over four years, and kazuha still makes you feel the same butterflies that you did when you first started dating.

the sky looks beautiful today, you remark to yourself as you step out of the train at your station. it is littered with stars and the moon shines bright. some of the stars break out into lines, disappearing in the darkness. meteors. something about the scene felt off, but you just couldn’t put a finger to why it felt that way.

you decide to stop by the grocery store anyway, and sift through the aisles for those snacks that your boyfriend loved. your eyes wander to the television screen mounted to the wall as the cashier billed your items. but before you can make sense of anything that’s on display, it is your time to pay up and leave.

“welcome back!” kazuha’s ears catch the faint sound of the door unlocking all the way from the kitchen, and he turns down the flame so he could come out to greet you. you set the grocery bag down and wrap your arms around him in a hug. “i missed you.”

“so did i, my love. i’m making your favourite for dinner!” he presses a quick kiss to your forehead and frees himself from your grip, eliciting a little whine from you. “i got you,” you bring the carrybag into the kitchen and drop it onto the counter. “those fish snacks you really like.” kazuha’s back is turned to you, but you swear you can hear his smile through his words of gratitude. his hair is tied up into a bun, red streak hanging freely to the side. you wish you could freeze this moment in time (and you do so by whipping out your phone and clicking a picture really quickly). you can’t help it, he just looks so pretty like this.

in the next five minutes, dinner gets ready and you get to work flicking through the channels on your television, looking for something to watch. truly the hardest part of dinner. you pause from flicking through for a minute, and begin to lazily scroll through your phone. whatever happens to be playing on the TV turns into background noise to your ears, until you look up for just a second and catch the flashing headline on the bottom: ‘is the universe dying?’

it’s probably not true, you think to yourself, but decide to humour the newsreporter anyway. scientists at NASA have learnt that the universe is expanding at a very accelerated rate! they don’t know why, but the value of the cosmological constant has been increasing exponentially over the past weeks. this brings us to a theory popularly known as the heat death of the universe—

this has got to be a prank. you switch away.

the next news channel that you land on, also is going on about the same thing. and so are all the others that you move through. “interesting,” you mumble.

“what is?” kazuha emerges from the kitchen, casserole in his hands. he carefully places it down onto the coffee table and takes a place next to you on the couch. suddenly, everything feels so very real to you. the slow breeze wafting in through the window, the aroma of the blend of spices in the casserole right in front of you. the man at your side, snaking a hand around your waist and pulling you closer. “can you believe everyone thinks the universe is going to end soon?”

kazuha’s hands are on your head now, gentle motions through your hair. “well, it’s not going to matter all that much, is it?” and you realise that he’s right. you would still be right here, with your lover, until the earth either burns up or freezes over, and that is all that matters to you, you realise. the night falls as the two of you sing together in the kitchen while scrubbing away at the dishes.

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[breakyourrxles]

『atarashī 』 ; 02

❝ something brewing ❞ | mlist  ｡

student!hongjoong x fem!reader, husband!yeosang x fem!reader — drama, dark romance, mystery, heavy sexual content [4,5k wc] ch cws: talks of pregnancy, trying for a baby, and some of the deeply inherent societal misogyny that can come along with that for women of a certain age.

"When do you think you're coming home?"

With a glass of red wine in hand and winding down from a long week of work, you lean into the cabinet of your kitchen—a forkful of fried rice shoveled into your mouth after the sentence leaves it and your phone set atop the counter—the often missing husband on speaker from the other end.

"Hard to say, might be a few more days to get some paperwork settled, I have a couple more meetings I need to attend and then who knows what might pop up in the meantime, between all of that. You know I miss you, right?"

In theory, yes, you do.

But you don't want to fight, don't want to turn this evening into another one that ends up like so many others, like your birthday days ago. So, you fight back the disappointed sigh, force a chipperness to your voice that probably sounds fake even to the man on the other line, if he knows you as well as he should by now.

"I know you do, I miss you too. I love you."

"I love you too. Enough about my work, how is the new bunch of art hipsters?"

You take a hefty swig of your drink.

"Same as always, I'd say. There's a few that seem really promising already, a couple of the actors are incredibly impressive, one reminds me of my grandmother, actually. I hope she sticks with it, especially."

Yeosang huffs out a laugh on the other end, as if amused by the thought of it.

"Any problem children this year?"

Another mouthful of food down and a shrug that you know your conversation partner can't even see, you answer.

"I don't think so. There's one guy who can't seem to get it together enough to close it out, bombed out of a bunch of other schools in what would appear to be spectacular fashion, but I don't think he's going to be a problem to anyone except for himself. It's really no skin off of mine nor the Akademiya's back if he can't focus enough to graduate."

"Maybe he just needs some inspiration," Yeosang says, though there's a pointed mischievousness to his tone that makes his intent in saying such a thing evident before even going as far as to explicitly say as much. "Maybe he'll like to take you as his muse."

"And I'm sure you would find that just so amusing, wouldn't you?" you jokingly reply back. "Painfully cliché, isn't it? Besides being a happily married woman, I have no interest in fraternizing with the students of the Akademiya, I would imagine it to be largely frowned upon."

"I would imagine so, though equally as much desired by some as a result of that. Don't you silly, artsy types enjoy those sorts of clichés more often than not anyway?"

Yeosang says it in a way that's meant to be comically enjoyed by the both of you; a cute banter between husband and wife, though it always comes off as anything but to you. A point of contention in your relationship for as long as you can remember, your husband's unwillingness to relent as far as his perceived pointlessness of the arts as a whole—the irony embedded within then—when he decided upon marrying a woman so devout to them.

Something that over the years fell to the wayside, however, and you can't quite parse through how much of it has been on account of yourself, or on account of his disapproval of it. Never any outright condemnation of your enjoyment, but equally as much unwilling to ever make himself available to you in such a way.

Silly, artist types, as he would always call them. Not to be taken seriously, not to be regarded as anything more than children now existing well into adulthood but unwilling to cast aside the immaturity that still resides deep within them.

And so, cast it aside you have. Buried deep down, not to be revisited. To be ignored completely and forever.

"Yes, well," you start, pouring yourself another glass of wine, this one fuller than the last. "We do, but not when it results in undesired, real world consequences. I have no inkling of desire for a student five years my junior and with little to nothing going for him."

"You know, speaking of," Yeosang says then, a change of subject sitting at the tip of his tongue. "I've been thinking that maybe it's about time we start trying for a baby."

Your blood runs cold at the mere mention of it, frozen in place and almost certain that you've heard wrong. Surely not.

He must pick up on the hesitation despite the very few seconds of silence that pass through the line. You hear him sigh—like he's disappointed in the fact that you're not jumping at the potential opportunity—which dumbfounds you, because why on earth would you?

"It's been seven years now, I just thought—" he pauses, probably rethinking the course of his thoughts before picking back up again and deciding against the topic entirely. "You know what, forget it. We'll talk about it another time."

"Sorry, I was just...surprised. You brought it up so suddenly."

"It shouldn't be sudden given how long we've been married. We were meant to be on the same page about this. You're thirty now, I'm not saying that you're running out of time but—"

But he is.

You close your eyes, try to pretend that this isn't happening right now with another long sip of wine. Why on earth would you be jumping at the chance to have a baby, knowing perfectly well that in doing so you would effectively be rendered to paid-for-single-motherhood with the frequency in which your husband is not around.

The thought of it makes your skin crawl. You can't say that, however. There's a lot of things that you simply cannot say to him.

"I know, we should talk about it when you're home though. Over a nice dinner and a bottle of wine, perhaps?"

"Are either of those things likely to have you getting off of your birth control?"

You've been here before: the dead end of any particular conversation topic with Yeosang. Where further discussion on the matter nearly impossible to reach any sort of positive result. Best to back down now, nothing good will come of the rest of your evening over the phone together.

"I'm going to head into the office early tomorrow to get a little bit of extra paperwork done, still a lot of small things that need to be done around the theater hall," you say. It's not entirely a lie—fully intending to do just that—but more than anything and most importantly, it's an excuse for you to end the phone call. "I should probably get to bed."

"Yeah, me too. I'll call you tomorrow when I have some time. Get some rest, I love you."

You say you love him back, but in times like this, you aren't quite sure what the words are meant to feel like anymore.

Nine in the morning echoes through the narrow, ornate halls of the theater building—an otherwise quiet emptiness that emanates around you on account of the students' typical disinterest in being there on the weekends. You understand the feeling well, though often unable to turn yourself off in quite the same way.

Balancing a small stack of papers and folders in your arms, you make your way towards your office. Phone calls to make, contractors to meet, signatures to sign—another full day of mundane tasks ahead of you with little to no reprieve in sight.

Dull. A lifeless existence you've resigned yourself to over the years; tending to a building that most lack care for, little to discuss with anyone most nights, and especially not your husband.

Amid quick strides across vermillion carpet, as you pass one of the closed doors to a smaller theater room—a small noise heard within, like a conversation being held between people. Words spoken and muffled by the large, wooden doors; you can't make them out even when you pause and press your ear closer towards it, but more than that comes to shock at someone else being on the premises aside from yourself.

You inch closer yet, slowly, and just before your head makes contact with the obstruction, it opens.

A cuss escapes you on account of the impact—it's sudden and hard enough that it has you stumbling back and dropping the handful of things that you've been carrying—papers scattering, you hissing, and the sound of a man hurriedly rushing to your aid in the aftermath of the flurry.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry—"

You rub your forehead with your palm, wince at the pain, crack your eyes open finally to see who it is that you have to wish only the worst things upon for having you end up like this.

He reaches out toward you, albeit awkwardly, unsure of what to do to help. While your vision focuses on him, he instead must decide on gathering your things—it's more helpful, surely.

"I didn't think anyone else was here, I was told no one else was here on the weekends."

"Yeah, well," you groan first, finally focusing on the sight of Hongjoong finishing his self-imposed task and then settling on his knees before you. "Typically there's no students here on the weekends. What are you doing here, anyway?"

Handing you the stacks of papers, Hongjoong smiles. As if knowing something that you do not.

"You were eavesdropping, weren't you?"

You glance up at him through your eyelashes, meet his eyes for a long moment and then bring yourself back up to your feet. He follows suit, watching you all the while.

"I would hardly call it eavesdropping when I'm the one tasked with making sure this place stays up and running. If I hear something suspicious, then I'm going to investigate it."

His smile widens.

"Was met with a sudden wave of inspiration for a garment, I don't have a dress form at home, and I was told that this space is available whenever to students. So, I came."

There's a few beats of silence that wash over the both of you—eyes glued to each other’s as if engaging in an unspoken game of chess. The first to relent unabashedly the loser, though you're not quite sure what winning might entail either.

You clear your throat, the weight of his gaze upon you feeling heavier and heavier with each passing second. Shuffle where you stand, dropping your eyes to the floor.

But you can feel that he is still watching you.

"Is that not true?" he asks, a hinting in his tone indicating that he knows the answer already.

"It is, you are welcomed to come and go as you please as a student of the Akademiya."

"Perfect," Hongjoong replies, airy, plain lips still painted with a slight smile. "Are you interested in costuming?"

The sudden tangent takes you by surprise, becoming painfully aware of the weight of the items still hanging in your arms as you give your brain a moment to play catch up with all of the bizarre things that seem to be unfolding around you. Frankly, if you didn't know any better—you might think the guy to be lightly flirting with you.

Hongjoong seems to notice as much, reaches out to take the stack once again and instead of holding onto it, sets the pile onto a stray chair that's hanging in the hallway just beside them.

"Lemmie show you something."

His hand reaches out behind himself—fingers brushing against your own in an effort to guide—you pull away just after, creating space between you even though you accept the invitation to follow him through the doorway and inside of the room. It's small, much smaller than the others that line the halls, and little more resides inside other than a dress form with fabrics draped over it, numerous swatches decorating a handful of chair-tops, and a large sketchbook sitting open in full display on the embarrassingly dirty floor.

Something that must have slipped past you in your attempt to tidy up the place for the school year ahead, you apologize to him for the inconvenience—tell him that you'll have it taken care of today—though he seems none bothered by the fact at hand.

Hongjoong's hair is cleaner today, more finely cared for and parted down the middle. Brushed, better put together than how he typically presents during the school week. Clean, fitted jeans and a nice blazer over his shirt. It's nothing fancy, but he looks nice.

"You didn't answer my question, by the way," he says suddenly, your attention snapping back to him and out of your thoughts about him. "About costuming."

"Oh, right," you acknowledge, though your attention is split between the conversation and any other tasks that may need taking care of. "A little bit. It's not something I've ever given a lot of attention to I suppose."

Hongjoong glances over his shoulder at that, seemingly amused by it. "Acting then?"

"Painting, actually."

"Ah," he sighs, bending down to the floor and picking up his sketchbook. He hands it to you. "Done anything in this place?"

Taking the large book of paper from him, you look up at him, then glance down towards it.

"A couple of things, though you'd never know it."

Hongjoong's attention to you falls away once again, hands reaching up to wind into the fabrics pinned onto the white dress form that stands in the middle of the room—back to work, as if you're not even there at all. In that time, you flip through a couple of pages of what he has given you; drawings and loose, messy sketches adorning the papers in numerous colors and outlines, but always beautifully connecting into something that shines against the bland background.

You blink a couple of times, in something of a bit of shock at what you're seeing. You glance up towards him once again—none of his attention given towards you or what you may think of his work—hands still busy winding, pinning and tying in front of him.

"These are good," you say, quietly, not wanting to interrupt his process. "Really good. How is it that—"

You catch yourself halfway through the thought, curse yourself for having even started to say it as you continue to look at him and the way his eyes sling to the side to meet yours.

"That I've not managed to graduate yet?"

"I'm sorry—"

Hongjoong laughs, takes a pause from his work and shakes his head. "It's okay, it's a fair enough question."

Waltzing across the path that separates the both of you and stepping over a small collection of fabric swatches, Hongjoong takes the sketchbook back from your hands, glances through a couple of the pages himself as if not having seen the things that rest inside for himself in quite some time. A trip down memory lane, as it would seem, and a small glimmer of what one might read as hope sparkling in his eyes as he looks at what he's done throughout the years.

"I wouldn't say that the issue is so much my talent; my raw, innate ability to create, to make something beautiful. Attention to detail, finding the divinity in something—or creating it—has never been the problem. Rather, there's probably a part of me that's absolutely terrified of the commitment of moving onto another chapter of my life."

You smile, let out a small laugh at it all. "That's a lot of words to say you're a commitmentphobe."

He shrugs. "Change is scary, unless it's temporary enough that the only thing that results from it is blowing up some major facet of my life."

"I'm sure your girlfriend loves that," you joke in response. Both of your eyes meet after, Hongjoong sets the sketchbook down onto the floor and slowly makes his way back to his work at the dress form as you continue to fumble over your words. "Or boyfriend, or whatever."

"Don't have one," Hongjoong says, sticking a pin between his teeth to hold onto. His eyes narrow then in a way that you've become bizarrely accustomed to in such a short amount of time spent with him—devilish, something lightheartedly coy and almost flirtatious in delivery. "What about you? Betrothed to anyone or just this place?"

"Married, actually," you reply, an uncomfortable tremble to your voice. Hongjoong's unrelenting stare remains steadfast on you all the while. Little time passing but feeling like far more. "Not to this place, to a man."

"That's good, I'd be worried for you if you weren't seeing anyone or anything but this building."

"Yeah, well, my husband spends most of the year traveling for business so—" you pause, close your eyes and re-center yourself. "Sorry, not really appropriate conversation to be having with students, is it?"

Hongjoong chuckles under his breath, still tending to his craft and seemingly wholly unbothered by the topic brought before him.

"Well, you're not my professor, you don't even work for the Akademiya, and thus I'm not your student," he pauses again, pulls a pin from between his teeth and sticks it into a fold of blue chiffon. "Besides, I'm twenty-five, you don't exactly have to shield my young, innocent eyes from the horrors of adult relationships. My parents are divorced, I've been through a fair share of my own in the meantime."

Silence takes the room then, and while you grant yourself some time to watch the man earnestly tend to his artistic craft, it's not long until you remember the fact that you have tasks that require your attention today as well.

"I've got to get going, I have work to do."

The man doesn't reply, another fold of blue chiffon pinned to the dress form as you bid him farewell.

Later that evening, the wind blows cold through the moistened streets of the city as you make your way through winding passages of parked vehicles and unpleasantly placed construction signs. The misplaced leaves blow violently around you, lodged in your hair and stuck to your coat before you're able to finally make your way to the destination that awaits you.

Seonghwa stands just out front of the dimly lit bar like a beacon of comfort, a soft smile greeting you once you bring yourself up the steps and inside of the building with the door held open by him.

Inside, the warmth of a fireplace and a small amount of other patrons welcomes you in much of the same way that your friend just had. Your first time here, though you're already pleased by the sights of a candlelit ambiance and intricate, decorative little knickknacks all lining the walls for as far as the eye can see. To some perhaps it is crowded, overbearing—but for you, it feels right at home.

"Weather is horrid," Seonghwa says as he slips ahead, motions for you to follow him towards one of the tables at the back of the room. "Hadn't planned for that when I asked you if you'd like to come out."

The two of you sit and a member of the staff is quick to come and take your orders, disappearing just as swiftly as they had come.

"It's okay, I needed the distraction anyway, I've been bogged down with work back at Aurelia. I'm still not quite sure how so many things break down in the small time between semesters."

"It's an old building," Seonghwa begins, cut off by the waitstaff returning with your drinks then carrying on with the thought again. "Things are going to break, unfortunately. Speaking of, how are the new underlings?"

You laugh at the nickname given to the students, as if they are your own and thus under your thumb. Coffee mug in hand, you take a sip and look carefully to Seonghwa across the table—studying his face as if in search of something. He notices it, features twisting into confusion and reels back slightly.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"We've been friends for a long time, right? I can...talk to you about things."

He glances around the both of you, still searching for something and nothing all at once. The answers to the question and what's going on at this table, presumably, he won't find them though. "Yes? Why?"

You set your mug down, lean forward across the table a little bit more to close the wide distance between both of you.

"There's one student, a costuming major—"

"A man?"

"Yes."

Seonghwa flinches visibly at the reply.

"I think he's taken some sort of...particular interest in me, for some reason." You take another sip from your mug and watch on, awaiting a response from the man across the way.

He takes a few seconds of silence, thinking over what you've said most likely. His eyes drop to look down into the liquid of his glass, and then flicker up to meet your expectant ones.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Sighing, you lean back into your chair lazily. "I don't know, I think it's intriguing. I don't know why he would, but he is fascinating."

A single eyebrow quirks up on Seonghwa's face. "Does he know that you're married?"

Part of you wonders if he's asking you, or reminding you of the fact.

"Yes, I told him as much."

"Did he seem to...care much for that?"

"In what way is he meant to care for it?"

To that, Seonghwa sighs heavily—pulls himself forward across the table much like you had only moments before and laces his fingers together like a man intent of delivering an important presentation of some sort. Or perhaps lecture is a better, more apt word.

"In much of the same way that you are. I know that with Yeosang gone much of the time it gets lonely and the prospect of new and exciting attention is likely nothing short of intoxicating, but the stakes are rather low for whoever this student is—" Seonghwa pauses, allowing the emphasis on that particular word to sink in even further before carrying on. "It's probably not a good idea to pay it much mind."

"Are you done?" you ask. Pointed, annoyed but not wanting to let it show in a way that may sour the mood of the evening any more than Seonghwa has already allowed for. "I said that I found it intriguing, not that I was considering slipping between the sheets with him, my God."

It feels as though the entire room quiets once the two of you finish with those words shared. Seonghwa leans back in his chair again, takes his glass into his hands and brings it up to his lips before muttering his apologies through it and towards you.

"I'm sorry, it's just that as your friend I know how difficult the past few years have been for you—with your job, with your marriage—it's easy to let things slip through the cracks once they're there at all. I wasn't saying it as a judgement upon you."

You blink slowly, frown at him and reach a hand across the table in request for his own. He's fast to take it, curling your lips pleasantly the other way.

"I know. Truthfully, I look at the guy more as a little excitement in my life; like visiting the pet store and watching the bunnies hop around knowing full well that you have no intention of taking one home."

Seonghwa laughs at the comparison. "Does he know that he's a bunny in your life?"

"I don't think he thinks he's anything in my life, and he would be right about that."

Nodding in acceptance of the answer, the waitstaff come with a small loaf of cut, buttered garlic bread in a wicker basket for snacking. You're quick to take one into hand, Seonghwa a bit slower, still with more on his mind to question you with.

"How is Yeosang, anyway? Still gone I presume?"

You nod much in the same way. "He doesn't know when he's going to be able to come home, nothing unusual there, I suppose. Actually, he recently brought up something..."

Words trailing off into nothingness at the end, it piques Seonghwa's curiosity just that much more than it normally might. He takes a bite into the bread, mumbles through a full mouth.  "Brought up what?"

"That he wants to start trying for a baby soon."

Seonghwa reels—lip turning upwards into an ugly sight as if the very thought of it disgusts him.

"A baby? He's never even here, what's he want to have a baby for?"

Your demeanor gives off a silent understanding of I know, right? but you offer him a verbal reply along with it.

"That's sort of how I feel about it."

"That's the most insane thing I've ever heard," he says, taking another bite of the snack food in hand. "Guy spends maybe a quarter of the year at most in the city and he wants to get you pregnant. For what?"

The question isn't intended for you, not exactly. It's intended for a man who is not there to answer it—expelled into the ether with no hopes of a response—not that you nor Seonghwa think you will be sated by any possible reply that you could come by.

"Well, you didn't ask, but don't do that. I'm not really up for playing husband like I know I'd get stuck doing in the event of you getting pregnant."

You roll your eyes. "But playing husband comes with so many perks."

"College was a long time ago," Seonghwa replies, knowingly perfectly well the implications of your past together with him that you are alluding to. "I had my fill of you then, you're of far more use to me not on your back."

Feigning an offended gasp, you halfheartedly toss a napkin across the table at him—the both of you laughing.

"Seriously though, Yeosang needs to spend more time home and fucking you. If you're coming onto me again, and being woo'd by a young twenty-something student from the Akademiya then there's a lot of problems going on within the marital residence."

"I wouldn't sleep with you again if I was injected with poison through my cunt and the only antidote was kept in your dick," you insist plainly enough, and now he is the one drowning in pretend-hurt from across the way.

Leaning over the table again, Seonghwa smirks at you—looking positively evil over the flickering of candlelight that resides beneath him and in the middle of the table.

"Ah, but if it's in an Akademiya student’s dick, well then—"

Fingers dipped in your water glass and quickly flicked into the face of your best friend, he flinches with shock at what you've done to him—how could you—he hatefully whispers through a laugh that you both carry between yourselves.

Unlikely that you're to live this one down, that much is for certain.

a/n: ah geez the trouble is brewing! enjoy the calm before the storm yall because it’s gonna get crazy and fast. if you have stuff to discuss, my ask box is the best way and i’m always happy to talk about the stories and characters! other than that, hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading, and see you next time!

[darling-i-read-it]

The Pairing

Pelle x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: not edited because who can be bothered, midsommar type things (cult, murder, people mysteriously going missing, a weird pairing ritual that includes murder, mentions of dani's trauma, mention of incest), I tweaked the plot a bit to fit the request

Author’s Note: Helly dear I hope you enjoy this! I left it open ended because I figured it was safe to leave the reader up to what they would do. Personallllyyyy I think after trauma bonding I could be swayed into a weird marriage lol. Enjoy(?)

Requested: by anon, Hi! Since you still write for Midsommar (which makes me very happy 🥳) and I saw your requests are open... I got one. The reader is friends with the group, she's Dani's best friend, and of course Pelle has a thing for her, he always tries to make any sort of excuses to touch her. She's invited to Sweden along the rest, and she's tricked into a sort of ritual where it's "decided" that Pelle and her are to be married. When she finds out she's mad and she wants to leave. Then you decide how to end it. Like she stays? She escapes? Is she kidnapped? You choose.❤️❤️❤️ I basically just found your blog, and I read almost all your work, and I love it! You're a great writer 👏

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“Do you remember Pelle?” Dani asked. You looked up from your phone. She was sitting on her bed, against the wall, arms wrapped around herself as she thought. Her phone had been recently discarded on the bed. You were sitting at her desk chair. You thought about Pelle, the gentle guy with the gentle smile. 

“Yeah sure. He’s nice. Why?” You meant he was nice in that he was nicer than the rest of Christian’s friends. They were okay but they were guys and tended to act that way no matter who was around. 

“He’s invited me to Sweden with him and the others.” You raised an eyebrow. 

“They’re going to Sweden?” 

“Pelle lives there,” she explained. “He’s going home and everyone else is going to visit where he lives. It’s supposed to be some kind of commune or something.” You sat up, putting your phone down. 

“Are you going?” She shrugged. 

“I don’t know if he wants me there. Christian, I mean. I don’t know if he just invited me to be polite.” 

“You said Pelle invited you.” 

“Well he seemed happy I was going but I don't really know him. I mean, he talks to you more than he talks to me.” You shrugged. You and Pelle had been friendly through the semester, simply because you go whenever Dani wants you to and Christian drags his friends around like dead weights. You narrowed your eyes at her, unsure what she was getting at. 

“Do you want to go?” 

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, I should get out of the house right?” You nodded. 

“I think it’s a good opportunity. I mean, Sweden! That’s so cool.” 

“Pelle extended the invitation to you as well,” Dani explained. You raised an eyebrow. You didn’t know the others that well and you knew Christian about as well as anyone knows their best friend's boyfriend. “You don’t have to come but I think I would be more comfortable if you were there too. I’m not sure how I’m going to react and I don’t know Christian’s friends that well and I don’t know the place and-”

“Relax Dani. When is it? I’ll check my schedule.” She grabbed her phone and started to scroll through, looking through the dates. 

“We’d get there on my birthday.” You smiled a bit. 

“That’s perfect. I didn’t think you should spend your birthday here anyway.” You shrugged. “I’ll go. I mean, I should probably look at how much it’ll cost and stuff but it could be fun. Right?” You didn’t deny how nice it would be to spend more time with Pelle, this time on his home turf. 

“Really?” You nodded, shrugging. She smiled easily, shoulders dropping the tenseness. 

“Yeah Dani. It’s for your birthday, how about that?” 

-

Pelle grabbed your hiking backpack as you approached the car. The drive was supposed to be over four hours and you were all stuck in the same van, along with all your luggage. You weren’t exactly excited for the overwhelming boy aura that would come along with it. 

“Thank you,” you said, gently. He nodded once, a kind smile on his face. 

“Of course. I’m so glad you could come,” he expressed. 

“Me too! It’s so exciting to see your home.” He shut the back of the car. Everyone else had gotten into their spots in the car. You called shotgun the second you got off the plane and you were grateful for it. Dani was squished in the back beside Christian, her window already down for some air. The sticky hot air was indicative of a nice morning turning into a nice day. You hoped this car had air conditioning. “Is there anything I should know? I’m sorry I don’t know a lot of Swedish, other than what you taught me.” 

Pelle had been giving you words here and there, trying to get you to pronounce things correctly. It was kind of a lost cause but it was fun regardless. 

“It’s probably going to be foreign at first. There are some things Americans aren’t exactly used to.”

“Like what?” “It’s easier for you to just see. But I assure you, you’re always safe.” He walked to the front of the car. You stood there a moment longer, unsure why you would need to worry about your safety. You pushed it out of your head, walking to the passenger seat. “Everyone buckled in?” Pelle asked, turning the car on. 

There was a chorus of yeah’s, followed by a couple seat belts buckling in. You adjusted to be comfortable in your seat and prepared for the drive. 

“Keep your hands, arms and feet inside at all times,” you joked. “The show is about to begin.” 

-

The hike to Pelle’s home was nice, if not a bit hot. Eventually you found yourself settled into beds, backpacks finally down, feet resting. You were itching for a shower but didn’t want to ask about it. You had been showered with kindness, large slightly unnerving smiles and flower crowns. Pelle sat beside you in the grass as everyone started to explore. They found themselves in their own bubbles, the dancers and the educators. Even Dani was able to find some sort of place alongside those who were making dinner. You kept a keen eye on her, just in case. 

The sun not going down tripped up your inner clock. It had to be closer to midnight than it was to midday. 

“This place is beautiful,” you admitted and you meant it. The sense of disconnect from the rest of the world was somewhat jarring. You could tell how someone could enjoy a life out here. “I can’t imagine why you’d ever leave.” Pelle smiled gently. He was leaning back on the palms of his hands. You picked at the overgrown grass under your fingertips. 

“It’s slightly limited,” he assured you. “I wanted to see what the rest of the world had to offer.” You shrugged. 

“Then decided to come back?”

“This is my home,” he said wistfully. 

“Home is where the heart is.” He nodded once. You looked back towards him, squinting in the sun. He seemed used to it, like it had no effect on him. “That was cheesy.”

“But true!” he promised. “Things are cheesy for a reason.” You laughed a bit. 

“I think that's a classic,” you argued. He shook his head. “When does the sun set?” 

“I thought I told you earlier that it doesn’t.” He leaned forward and gestured to the blue sky. “The midnight sun can go for days. Sometimes just a day, depending on the time of year.” You nodded, opening your mouth to ask another question when Ingemar approached the two of you. 

“Good evening,” he said happily. 

“It’s evening?” you scoffed. “See, this whole thing is messing with my inner clock. You got a wristwatch?” Both men shook their heads. You weren’t sure why you even asked. They probably still used the stick in ground timing method out here. Or maybe they didn’t even care and simply went about their days as thought time didn’t matter at all. You weren’t sure you could ever adjust to that.

“May I sit?” You and Pelle nodded. He sat down beside Pelle, getting comfortable on the hillside. “Are you both ready for the pairing tomorrow?” Pelle gave Ingemar a look. 

“What pairing?”

“It’s silly, really. It’s part of the festival.”

“You haven’t told her?” Ingemar questioned. He laughed, making you feel left out. You weren’t sure why Pelle wanted all of this to be some sort of mystery to you. You wondered if it would lose its charm if you knew what was going to happen. But the pairing sounded somewhat sexual and you wanted to know if you were entering a sex cult or something. 

“After the Attestupa tomorrow the elders make five pairings of people. It’s like…superstition. Whichever pairing seems to be best put together by the end of the festival gets to be married.” You scoffed. 

“Married? Like a legit wedding?”

“As legit as we get around here. There is no paperwork or church to defy,” Ingemar explained. 

“What’s the Attestupa?” you asked. You didn’t want to be insensitive to everything going on but you poked around for the sake of your sanity. 

“Another thing easier seen than said,” Pelle explained. 

“You are being awfully mysterious Pelle. Should I be worried?” He shook his head. 

“No, not at all.”

 -

After the Attestupa you were about to leave. Dani’s panic attack, which was justified after the events you had all witnessed, caused you to jump into protective mode. It was too early in her grieving process to be seeing death at all, let alone death right in front of her. It didn’t matter what kind of processes the people here went through, she needed to leave. 

It was Pelle who convinced you both to stay. He apologized, assuring you both that nothing like that would happen again soon. It was part of the world he grew up in and didn’t think he needed to protect you from something he saw as normal. 

You waited for Dani’s go ahead. When she said she would stay, so did you. 

Then came the pairing. 

The elders gathered everyone around the table again. They had a scroll out in front of them and you stood next to Dani, teetering back and forth on the balls of your feet. Pelle assured you there would be no deaths here. This was about the rebirth of those who had just died, the children that would be had from the couples paired together. You looked around, wondering which people had been waiting for this their entire lives. 

Then your name was called. 

Pelle and you. 

Ingemar and Connie. 

Then other names you didn’t know, people that had lived here their whole lives. Your eyes were still bursting out of your head from the time they brought you and Pelle up, gave you intertwining floral headgear and showed you to one of the private cabins. 

Simon was still yelling from outside about Connie, wanting to drag her away, unsure of the reason she had been chosen. Dani watched you go but couldn’t grab you. She wanted to give you a thumbs up but didn’t have the heart to, unsure if you were going to die the second you were away from her eyeline. 

When you were inside the cabin you took off the flower crown. You placed it on the bed halphazerdly., turning to Pelle. 

“Okay, what the fuck is this?” you questioned. “Ingemar has a crush on Connie and now they’re paired together? What is this Pelle? Please.” He approached you and you didn’t back away. You still felt safe with him, even after all the things that had happened. You truly believed he wouldn’t hurt you. 

“It’s not like that, I promise.” He put his hands on your arms, trying to center you. “They pair up some of the visitors every Midsommar,” he assured you. “I had no idea it would be you and I or Connie and Ingemar. They have to pair up some outsiders to avoid any incentuous children, they aren’t doing it from any kind of ill mind.” 

It felt weird. In this room, alone, when you had just been in a group housing situation. You already wanted to see Dani. 

“This is weird Pelle.” 

“I understand it isn’t normal. But they aren’t forcing anything on us, on you. We’ll sleep here but it would be normal, as though we were sleeping a couple feet away in the group house.” 

“So we don’t have to do anything right?”

“There will be a few pair games but those are normal. Like…compatibility games. They aren’t dangerous, I assure you. Do you trust me?” You swallowed hard, meeting his eyes. You nodded slowly. 

“I think so. Yes,” you promised. He nodded. 

“You’re allowed to leave and see Dani and our friends. Don’t worry.”

“What about Simon and Connie?”

“I’m sure Connie and Simon will see each other again soon. There’s no need to worry about them.” You nodded. 

“At least they paired me with you. They could’ve paired me with Christian and I could've drowned him in the toilet or something.” Pelle gave you a small laugh. He put his hand on your arm, softly. 

“Let’s have dinner alright?” You nodded, following him out of your cabin.

-

“So it’s like a game?” Dani questioned. “Why couldn’t they put Christian and I together. Maybe then he’d finally think about marriage.”

“You don’t wanna marry that guy,” you said, shaking your head. You were sitting by the gardens together. Pelle was harvesting some food and you watched, for moral support. “Pelle says it’s like a game. Whoever is most compatible at the end gets married.” 

“Legally?”

“As legal as this all is,” you said. 

“Did you see that Simon left this morning? Without Connie. Hitched a ride,” Dani explained. You shook your head. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Someone took him in the car into town.” You didn't know the guy well but were surprised. They seemed really close. Engaged, if you remembered. 

“Pelle?!” you called. He turned around, putting the shovel into the dirt. 

“Yes?” 

“Did you hear Simon left?” He shook his head and walked over. He was sweating from the sun. His white baggy shirt clung to his chest. You were grateful again that you were paired with him out of anyone, the slight crush growing with the coincidence. 

“I didn’t. Who told you this?”

“Ingemar,” Dani explained. “When Connie went looking. Do you think Christian would do something like that?” You wanted to scoff and answer honestly. Instead you met Pelle’s gaze and shook your head, lying. 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t.” Pelle extended a hand. 

“Would you like to help me?” 

“Looks like hard labor.” 

“I promise I’ll make it easier. Come.” You reached out and let him help you stand. You glanced back at Dani, who smiled, squinting under the sun.

“You guys are cute. Sure to win best pair.” You rolled your eyes. 

“You get to be the maid of honor.”

“The may queen traditionally get’s that spot,” Pelle explained. You raised your eyebrows to her. 

“Better get your dancing feet ready.”

-

“Have you seen Josh?” Dani questioned. She stood in front of your cabin door, concern lacing her voice. You rubbed your eyes. Pelle had let you sleep in a bit, allowing you to skip breakfast and bringing some back. You shook your head. 

“No. Not since yesterday. Why?” Her jaw set. 

“I can’t find him.” 

“Isn’t the May Queen thing today? I doubt he’d miss that,” you offered. “Plus, I have a compatibility thing today too.” Dani nodded tightly. You were right. Josh would show up eventually. 

“Can you ask Pelle if he’s seen him?”

“Yeah of course. You okay?” She nodded but she had that melancholy look on her face that was hard to read. You weren’t sure if she was just putting up a front or if she was at all settled. You wanted to ask her more questions but she turned slowly and walked towards the main part of the commune. You squinted in the sun. Pelle passed her while he was walking back from wherever he had gone. 

“Are you ready?” he questioned. You nodded a bit. 

“Thanks for letting me sleep in.” 

“Of course. I want you rested.”

“So what do we have to do? Is it like a sack race or something? Who knows each other better? Quick, what’s your favorite color?” He chuckled. He looked down, intertwining your fingers. You let him, though you were suspicious. 

“A tad more serious than that.”

“Pelle…”

“You’ll be fine. I promise.” He was determined to win this one. He had never been chosen for a pairing before but he had seen it happen. The pairs were sent out on the cliff and had to be the last two standing after a scuffle of pushing and shoving. 

Ingemar and Connie were removed, after Connie mysteriously disappeared after causing too much commotion. There were only two more couples. 

Neither were as strong or connected as you and Pelle. 

He just wondered how he would get you up the mountain. Once you were there he had no doubt he could convince you to push for your own self preservation, along with his. 

As Dani took a drink of the special tea before the May Queen dance, you drank some offered by Pelle as you started up the mountain.

[eijirousbestie]

I love love love your bakugou x artist reader trope please we need more of it it’s so wholesome i have read it on repeat since you upload it 💗💗💗

Aahh thank you so much!! Kinda grew attached to it myself so I’m glad to hear y’all love it sm<33 This is definitely a series I plan on continuing🤟🏽 this part is kinda more goofy than anything else but I promise there’s fluff near the end<33

“Fuck around and find out”

he loses his drumsticks

missing rug

using an art supply as a weapon?

nonverbal apology

can’t admit he’s wrong for SHIT

Clay is never easy to work with and you’d be foolish to think it is. It’s messy, dries relatively quickly and dirties up every surface it graces. You swear your sculpting professor is out to get you with these ridiculous projects. From cardboard cutouts to detailed portraits to clay. It’s a madhouse in the art department.

Using your modeling tool, you try to carve into the block of raku clay that cost an arm and a leg to buy from the university’s private art supply store. It was a blessing and a curse to have it so conveniently placed right across the hall from your sculpting class. The clay and tool alone cost you $27 that you’ll never see again. This degree better be worth it. You look at your desk partner and see that she’s going to town on her clay block. She cuts, carves and scoops at it like she’s done it a thousand times over. Clay sculpting is a completely different wheelhouse you’re not used to but you’re always willing to learn. Hopefully fast.

You quickly check your phone, residual dried clay sprinkling onto the screen as you click on it. 7:50 PM. It’s time to wrap it up for the day. Almost in sync, your professor calls time and you all begin to clean up. You clean off your work station diligently and swing your bag over your shoulder, wishing everyone a good night as you leave. The walk to your car is peaceful. The night is quiet and the air is cool and clear. Truth be told, you were opposed to taking a night class at the start, probably afraid you’d get jumped at night or something irrational like that. But now it’s what you look forward to during the week. Being left alone with your own thoughts and decompressing from the day in the evening is just so therapeutic. Finally making it to your car, you get in, closing and locking the door after. Now that your hands are free from dried clay, you go through your missed messages for the evening. As soon as you turn off do not disturb your screen is flooded with missed calls and text notifications. Your eyes widen and confusion floods your mind as you scroll to the very first message.

#1 Hater🏆: yo, lost my drumsticks. you seen em?

delivered 6:15 PM

#1 Hater🏆 missed call

#1 Hater🏆: yeah you totally took em u little shit

delivered 6:30 PM

#1 Hater🏆 missed call (2)

#1 Hater🏆 missed call (4)

#1 Hater🏆: ik damn well you’re not ignoring me rn

#1 Hater🏆: i’ll go in your room rn and throw out that shitty rug. keep playin

delivered 7:05 PM

You laugh at his empty threat of a message and roll your eyes. What he had against your rug, you didn’t know. Buying a rep was cheaper than the real thing. KAWS is not a brand that’s in your tax bracket. And of course you didn’t know where his drumsticks were. He usually keeps all his music equipment locked away somewhere so it’s most likely his fault for losing them. You’re about to turn off your phone when a ping sounds from your device, a new message shining brightly on your screen.

#1 Hater🏆: forgot you were at your night class. probably got me on dnd anyways

#1 Hater🏆: still gonna give you hell for stealing my shit tho

delivered 8:03 PM

You type back a quick reply.

You: don’t have ur sticks. touch my rug and u die. I’ll be back in 5 to kick ur ass for blaming me

You shut your phone off and start your car, pulling out of the parking lot and driving back to the dorms.

Once you’re back you walk through the living room and make a beeline to your room. You open your door and what you see inside is enough to fuel nightmares. A rather deranged looking Bakugou has his hip leaned up against your windowsill, arms crossed over his chest as a single lamppost from outside your window illuminates one side of his face. He looks at you. Stares even and doesn’t say a single word.

“Is there a reason you’re just sitting in the dark like a weird-ass Disney villain or?” You flick on the light switch next to the door, drenching your room with light. It’s only then that you notice your floor is rather bare. This motherfucker.

He must have seen your reaction judging by the way his eyes follow your gaze to your now exposed wood flooring. A shit eating grin spreads across his face, damn near splitting it in two. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You’d hate to beat his ass over something so trivial but it’s getting harder to restrain yourself. You force yourself to look him in the eyes as you speak very very carefully.

“Kats… you wouldn’t happen to know where my rug is would you?”

He straightens up and walks towards you, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sweats, a cocky bounce in his stride.

“Dunno. My shit’s missing too. Must be a ghost or somethin’.” Not a lick of remorse escapes his mouth. He’s smug. He’s proud of himself and he even came back to the scene of the crime just to taunt you. Your left eye twitches, patience wearing thin.

“I’ll ask you one more time for the sake of being generous. Where. Is my. Rug.” He shrugs and feigns innocence.

“Fuck around and find out.”

The hell did he just say? Is he really trying to pick a fight right now? Usually you’re the one keeping the peace but this man has now dragged your innocent rug into his thick headed nonsense. You chuckle in disbelief and look at the ground, shaking your head slightly.

“‘Fuck around and find out?’ Huh… aight then.” Bag still slung over your shoulder, you unzip the smallest pocket and pull out the modeling tool you used earlier for your sculpting class. You grip it tightly in your palm, the pointed edge facing outwards. Bakugou’s cocky façade waivers a bit but he doesn’t show it. His left eyebrow quirks up in interest.

“Tryna stab me with an art supply?” You’re not really gonna stab him. Just scare him into giving you your stuff back. Maybe…

“You said fuck around and find out right? So imma fuck you up til I find out where my shit is.” You drop your bag on the ground and rush at him all at once. His once calm demeanor switches to sudden shock and he moves to dodge your swing.

“Dude what the fuck!? Will you chill?” He doesn’t know whether he’s shouting in annoyance or fear, though he’ll never admit the latter. You turn around to where he’s standing behind you, modeling tool still tightly clutched in hand.

“Give me my shit back then!”

“Cmon it’s a shitty knock off. You really gonna stab me over a $30 rug?”

“And you really stole a $30 rug over a $15 pair of drumsticks?”

“Cuz you stole em!”

“I didn’t steal anything. I don’t even know where you keep them Kats! Plus I haven’t been in the dorms since 8 this morning.” His face stills and his brain sorts through what you’d just said. It made sense really. Today was your long day this week. You’d been gone from 8 AM to 8 PM.

He straightens up from his defensive stance and looks away, rubbing the back of his nape. “Okay well even if you didn’t take em, still don’t know where they are. Everyone’s a suspect right now.”

“Then why aren’t everyone else’s things missing?”

He shakes his head and corrects you. “Nah, I took a piece of everyone’s shit too not just you. It’s all stashed til someone fesses up.” You stare at him like he’s grown two heads, face turned up in disapproval and disbelief.

“Aight Kats whatever. You know it’s not me, so can I please have my rug back?” At this point you where drained from classes and just wanted to rest. Not to mention using the last of your energy to attack this idiot.

He walks to your door and opens it, the creak of the door signaling his great escape. “Ask me nicely.” He’s closing the door behind himself now, but you’re quick to yell out.

“Dude are you seriou-”

“Under the bed.” With that, he closes the door and you’re left in silence. You kneel on the ground and look under your bed and just as he said, your rug is there safe and sound. You pull it out from its hiding spot and place it back in its respective spot on the floor. You let out a deep sigh of relief which can be heard by the eavesdropping figure just outside your door. He chuckles to himself and walks to his room. Truth be told he found his drumsticks minutes before you came back to the dorms. He was just too embarrassed to tell you he found them after misplacing them himself and blaming you for it. Plus, it was more fun this way. Minus the potential stabbing part.

[robo-milky]

[More Info]

Nicknames:

Henchman (Grim) | Claws (Ace) | Clochey Wochey (Cater) | House Cat (Leona)

Shrimpy (Floyd) | Trickster -> La Petite Clochette (Rook) | City Kitty (Epel) | Kit -> Honorary Human (Sebek)

Kit of Beasts -> Heart of Man (Malleus)

In Return:

Master _____ (Everyone except for faculty)

Uncle (Ramshackle Ghosts)

Bio:

An emotionally distant girl who thinks with her brains more than her heart. Her words may come off as insensitive, but it’s always said in a neutral tone. Prefers to state the facts and look for the most efficient way out, than tackling more abstract concepts like emotions. Despite this outlook on life, she is a skeptical, worst-case scenario planner. Cloche will go the extra mile if it means security and success is guaranteed. When it comes anything, be it a task/person/subject, Cloche is the type of person who would want to know anything and everything about it to be prepared. When push comes to shove, Cloche will take on the role of leadership and make all the hard decision no one else wants to make. Cloche is a very “the ends justify the means” kind of person.

Core Values -> Competency + Freedom

Background:

A cosplayer from Earth who, after exiting from a con, took a wrong turn to get home and was swept away by the NRC horse carriage.

“I did not put so much effort into studying and making the right friends just for it all to go into smoke! …What’s the point anymore?”

Ghost Camera: “I’m pretty sure Headmaster Crowley gave this to me as binding to keep me here.”

Snow Hand Cream: “Master Rook could tell this cream is from Neige’s line just by the smell! Isn’t that impressive?”

Bandaids: “I originally bought these for myself, but I end up giving them to others…”

Advils: “Would you like one? Binding Bells told me you were getting headaches, so…”

Handkerchief: “Here, let me wipe that up for you, Master.”

Hair ties: “Master Epel gave them to me during a joint P.E. class. The day after, I overheard Master Vil complaining about his missing hair ties.”

Pencil Case: “If you wish to borrow a pencil, I expect you to give me something back as collateral— so I know you’ll return it back to me.”

Lollipops: “The lollipops in Twisted Wonderland are great and all, but they can’t beat the taste of Chupachups.”

Thread and Needle: “Oh, you’re missing a button.”

Lactaid: “You don’t need one… do you?”

Scrapbook: “Do NOT touch.”

Textbook: “I’m so close annotating the whole book. Just a couple pages left…”

Spiral bound notebook: “Master Rook complimented the calligraphy title in my notes! …Maybe I should do the same thing for futures ones.”

Phone: “Master Grim, please stop playing games…”

Sketchbook: “Master Epel complained about me drawing him too ‘girly’, but I only drew what I saw.”

Notable Thoughts: Cloche’s

“Headmaster Crowley must be busy running such a prestigious school like this… So busy, I wonder if he’d have time looking for a way I can go back to my world.”

“Master Grim’s orders aren’t as bad you think. All he really does is make me do his share of the chores. The simplicity of his orders are a blessing compared to other students’…”

“Master Riddle is accomplished, but he throws tantrums too easily at the drop of a pin.”

“Master Ace may be annoying, but he can be a surprisingly reliable when needed.”

“Although Master Deuce has a good attitude, I don’t think I’m patient enough to wait for him to catch up.”

“I do like Master Jack’s work ethic, but his moral compass is suffocating.”

“I can relate to Master Ruggie’s pragmatism to some degree, though I personally disagree with his disregard of fine arts.”

“If Master Azul ever asks about my whereabouts, no he did not.”

“Is it bad I felt no sympathy for Master Kalim when Master Jamil overblotted?”

“I feel like I’ve been seeing Epel more and more since he stayed over at Ramshackle for the VDC. I get that it’s probably convenient for him to go with me, if we’re going to head back to the same destination anyways, but he doesn’t have to accompany during short breaks.”

“I think Master Rook is very admirable! He’s intelligent, athletic, and creative! …I wish more people could give him a chance and see him for who he really is— but… he probably wouldn’t like that… After all, half the things I know about him, he’s never told me in person.”

“I have deep respect for Master Vil, I really do. Although I have some qualms with the lyrics he wrote for ‘Absolutely Beautiful’.”

“Before asking Master Idia for homework help, Master Grim and I always play a game of rock-paper-scissors. …Why? Because neither of us want to be the bargaining chip.”

“I don’t see why I should fawn over the prince of a foreign land— let alone, from another world. Master Malleus will not be my king, nor will I be his subject. Sage Island is out of his jurisdiction, anyways.”

“…Some of my acting was genuine. A part of me was so desperate to rid myself of the curse, that I was fine with fooling myself. I’ll admit, if Master Rook didn’t come first, then I’m sure he would have... ahem— Capable, composed… it’s almost scary.”

Notable Thoughts: Others’

“Cloche could’a been the perfect henchman if he didn’t have to call other people ‘Master’!” - Grim

“With Cloche around, Heartslabyul doesn’t have to resort to using a cat beastman to play the violin, but an actual cat. That way, we can follow rule 529 without any loopholes.” - Riddle

“Me, friends with that stick in the mud? Pfft—! As if!” - Ace

“Even in a sticky situation, I’ve never seen Cloche lose his cool before. I wonder how he does it…” - Deuce

“For a beastman, Cloche really doesn’t like noise. I get that too, since our ears are more sensitive than humans… but shouldn’t he have already gotten used to it, by now?” - Jack

“I can’t have Leona ordering Cloche around, cause he’ll steal my job!” - Ruggie

“It’s such a shame Cloche refused my offer for him to work at the Monstro Lounge. …We could have made good money and attracted more customers if we used his cat form to promote on our Magicam…” - Azul

“Cloche is really nice! He’s kind of like Jamil, helpful and a bit stern. …But I also feel like there’s a darkness… Ah— Nahaha! N-Nevermind! I want to know more about him too.” - Kalim

“Cloche is surprisingly weak. He could barely lift up a crate of apples when I called him over for help the other day. I ought to be annoyed he couldn’t help, but I’m also kind of glad?” - Epel

“I thought I could feel the claws of a wild beast, but there’s a beauty to reservation too. Perhaps I’ll need to lure it out.” - Rook

“Honestly… All the work I put into reviving Cloche’ natural curls has gone to waste, since he left Pomefiore.” - Vil

“‘Master Hornton’, an amusing nickname, indeed. I was under the impression Cloche had known my identity, but it seems my expectations had been subverted.” - Malleus

“Tch. Cloche can play the victim when needed, I’ll give him that. Manipulating his curse to his advantage makes him no better than those Night Raven College miscreants he claimed to have disassociated with.” - ???

Extras/Trivia:

- Birthday: May 12

- ISTJ-T/6w5

- “She/Her” is only used in a meta/narration sense, otherwise— she uses “he/him”

- Prefers voice > looks

- When Cloche is in her cat form, she has no conscious thoughts and move as if she’s on autopilot, like a normal cat.

- Cloche has no distinct handwriting. It varies depending on what she’s writing and who it’s for— yet even then, no two letters look the same. (Unless forging)

- Cloche has no inner fur in her ears. It’s to signify that the cat ears are unnatural— fake.

- Has a habit of either covering her mouth with her hand/sleeve or turning away whenever she breaks into a genuine smile. Can smile on command for a camera (cosplayer intuition).

- Goes to the school forest to calm down whenever she feels emotional or if she has an inkling that her feral side will come out

- Cloche has germaphobic tendencies.

- Has a habit of biting her index finger or thumb to suppress pain/excessive laughter.

- School ghosts and paintings are fond of Cloche for always being respectful and fixing their frames, the Ramshackle ghosts, especially.

- Feral! Cloche represents Id

Gallery:

Cards:

Groovy!! [SR Tsumsitter]

Groovy!! [SSR Union/Birthday Jacket]

[SR Luxe Couture]

[SSR Birthday Bloom]

[SSR Glorious Masquerade]