#bought some nice oil for us to use

[fernspirals]

am I being delusional and over dramatic

[angsttronaut]

oil painting my beloved beloathed 💖

[yoshistory]

FINALLY got groceries for the first time in awhile today and like half the stuff i got was cleaning supplies. thank god. ive been using hand sanitizer from the food bank to clean its been awful. i just wiped my kitchen counters down big time and i plan on spending tomorrow tiding up and doing some deep cleaning. ive been needing it

also i got stuff to make chocolate chip cookies (my favorite)(simple but loving) and i got some nice ramen i've been wanting to try (premium shin gold with chicken broth) .. im excited

[kittlyns]

Took an 1.5 hour walk, got rained on, got home, now I gotta clean my bathroom so I can take a warm, relaxing bath

[r4di0h3ad]

just practice part 2

part 1!

pairings! bsf!jj x reader

in which! you cant stop thinking about the night you lost your virginity to jj…. even though you have a boyfriend

warnings! 18+ smut. cheating. fingering. oral sex (m. recieving) pnv sex. unprotected sex. not proof read.

it had been two months since you lost your virginity to jj and almost a month and a half since you started officially dating your new boyfriend.

he was nice. he took you out to eat once a week, he bought you small gifts, he complimented you and you never argued. but the sex was just…bad. it was always over way too quickly and he never payed any attention to your body or what you wanted. you figured he was just one of those boys who was too scared to go down on a girl, which was fine, but it probably wouldn’t suit you in the long run.

you hadn’t been hanging around your friends very often, usually turning them down to go out with your boyfriend and jj was getting increasingly frustrated with this.

but every time you were around your friends, jj in particular, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. when you talked to him, all you thought about was the way he called you baby when he came on your stomach and the way he made you cum on his face. you felt so completely guilty for these thoughts, but nothing would stop them. you figured the best plan of action was to avoid him. not entirely, but just try not to be around him alone.

but, you did end up alone with jj by mistake one afternoon.

you had just finished surfing with kie as the swell had come in that day. you both planned to stay at the beach a little longer, but you were hungry and didn’t have any food. kie decided to go pick up something from the heyward’s shop and you went back to the chateau to grab a six pack, only to find jj working on his bike, his shirt off and his shorts dirty, probably from engine oil.

you didn’t say anything as you walked up the steps to the porch, but jj noticed you and called out.

“hey, y/n!” he yelled, wiping his hands off on a towel and throwing it on his bike. “thought you were gonna stay at the shore until later?”

you were in your damp bikini top and bottoms and a pair of sandals. you turned around at the sound of his voice and met his gaze.

“yeah..” you said. awkwardly. “i am, i was just grabbing some beers.” you turn back around, pulling open the screen door and stepping inside. once you’re in the kitchen with the refrigerator door cracked, you hear jj come into the château after you.

“what’s going on with you?” he asks, standing in the living room. you shut the refrigerator and look over at him with furrowed brows.

“what do you mean?” you question, although you knew exactly what he meant. you didn’t expect the confrontation to happen now of all times.

“don’t act like you don’t know.” he crosses his arms over his chest. “you’ve been weird around me ever since we..”

you didn’t want to hear him say it.

“jj, i’ve just been hanging around my boyfriend a lot,” you try to defend yourself, hoping he’ll stop questioning you. “i’m sorry i haven’t been talking to you. ‘been busy.”

he nods, biting his lip and looking down at the floor.

“do you regret it?” he asks, looking back up at you.

“what?” you shake your head. “no, i just-“

“you promised you wouldn’t make things weird between us and now you barely even talk to me.” jj said. “you sure i didn’t do something wrong?”

“no jj!” your voice raised slightly. “i-“ you cut yourself off, not knowing what to say. “it’s just that every time i try and talk to you, i think about what we did.” you blurt out, almost making it sound like you both murdered someone and hid the body. you made it sound like a crime, and it pogue rules, it technically was. “i thought that avoiding you was gonna take my mind off it until i got over it.”

he walks closer to the kitchen, tossing his hat somewhere on the counter.

“so you do regret it?” he questions, leaning against the counter and looking straight at you.

you shake your head no.

“i don’t, but it’s kind of wrong of me to think about you while my boyfriend’s fucking me.”

you realized what you said after it had already left your mouth and your eyes widened.

“what’d you say?” he asks, cocking his head a little at your admission, a barely visible smile playing on his lips.

“uh-“

you quickly turn around to open the fridge again, looking for some beers to take and get the hell up out of there.

“no, say it again.” jj pulls your arm, twisting you back around to face him so that your bodies were dangerously close together. your face flushed with embarrassment and your heart was thumping out of your chest.

“jj,” you say, shrugging off his touch. “i really gotta go back to the shore.” you say, but you weren’t moving. jj knew that wasn’t what you really wanted.

“i’m not stopping you.” he pulled back from you and leaned against the counter once again, showing that you had free will to leave, but you still didn’t budge. your feet were glued in place.

you wanted to kiss him so bad and get that ridiculous smile off his lips, but the thought of your boyfriend who did little to please you was the only thing that was keeping you from doing it. you bit the inside of your cheek, nervously. the tension between you two was going to make your head explode.

“he doesn’t fuck you like i do, does he?”

his words were your final straw.

you grabbed both sides of his face and instantly connected you lips with his. he kissed you back without a second thought, wrapping his arms around your waist. he backed you into the refrigerator as his lips moved perfectly with yours.

his fingers trailed down your hips and to your clothed core. he pulled away from the kiss to look at you, silently asking for permission for him to touch you, and you gave it.

still having you against the refrigerator’s surface, he skillfully moved your bikini bottoms to the side as two of his fingers sunk into your entrance. you were embarrassingly soaked already. you fight back a moan as he pulled out of you, just to slide right back in, hitting the spot he knew you needed.

“all this and i’ve barely even touched you?” he mocked, taking his fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. he looked you in the eyes as he sucked your slickness from his fingers. your lips were parted as you watched, desperately needing his hands on you again.

he then picked you up, his hands hooked under your thighs. you giggled as he carried you to the bedroom, kicking the door closed.

he gently placed you on the bed and reconnected his lips with yours, his tongue swiping yours. you reached to work on his belt, swiftly undoing it and pulling it off while never breaking the kiss. you slid his shorts down, his boxers barely hiding his desperation for you.

you palm him through the fabric, eliciting a groan from him against your lips that you needed to hear more of.

you sunk to your knees in front of him, yanking his boxers down and allowing his painfully hard cock to spring free. you took him in your hand, pumping a few times before your tongue poked through your lips to lick a long stripe from the base of his shaft to the tip.

he gently grabbed your hair, trying to pull you away, but you licked him again, which loosened his grip.

“you don’t have to-“ his eyes rolled back as you finally took him all in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you sucked his cock. your hands were placed on his knees. the moan you heard from him encouraged you to keep going, although his tip was hitting the back of your throat and you were trying hard not to gag. “fuck- baby, you don’t have to do this.”

you pull him from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips with his tip.

“i want to.” you say before taking him in your mouth again. he tries to keep his eyes locked with yours, but his head falls back in pleasure, his fingers lacing into your hair.

you only knew how to do this because your boyfriend showed you. you had to keep your eyes closed the whole time so you could pretend it was jj.

his breathing was getting heavier with each rise and fall of his chest as soft moans and strings of curses fell from his lips. he couldn’t help but thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock farther into your mouth. there were tears brimming your eyes as you tried to focus on pleasuring him.

“fuck- m’not gonna last much longer like this.” he said.

you kept going, desperately wanting to bring him over the edge, but he pulled your hair back, taking you off of him.

“gotta stop you, princess.” he grabbed your hands and helped you up from your knees. you sat on the bed, pouting. he stood over you, brushing your hair out of your face and noticing your change of attitude. “didn’t wanna cum like that.”

as much as you wished you could make him cum by sucking him off, you couldn’t complain now that he was giving you attention.

his hands guided themselves to your waist, where he then told you to turn around so you were now on your hands and knees, your ass facing him. he was still standing as he held your hips from the edge of the bed. you felt his tip at your entrance.

“this okay?” he asked.

you give him a yes, and then you feel him slowly enter you. it felt so much different than when he had been on top of you before. there was a slight pain due to how much deeper he could push into you from this angle, but the pain melted into pleasure within seconds.

he pulled out just to drive himself back into you. his pace was slow until you adjusted to the position, and then he steadily began going faster. his fingers dug into the sides of your ass, pulling you into him with every thrust.

as he went harder, you gripped the sheets and stuffed your face into the mattress under you, trying to keep yourself quiet, but you couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips.

“fuck-“ jj cursed under his breath, his grip on you getting even harder. “feel so good, can’t get enough of this pussy”

his words brought you closer and his pace increased. you could feel him getting tenser, his thrusts getting sloppier.

“could have you like this every day if i could- shit.”

you were almost over the edge, the knot in your stomach threatening to undo.

“fuck- m’gonna cum princess” he moaned.

his last thrusts were deep and slow and they led you into perfect ecstasy. you came undone around his cock, moaning into the sheets right in time for him to pull out and finish on your back- your name leaving his mouth with curses and moans.

your body was limp when he cleaned your back with a towel, still in a haze from your orgasm.

“you okay?” he asked, running a hand down the middle of your back, feeling the ridges of your spine.

you nodded and sat up, grabbing your bikini from the floor and slipping it back on.

“kie is gonna kill me.” you say, slipping your sandals on your feet. “she’s not gonna believe any excuse i try to give her.”

“i’ll drive you down there.” jj offered. “i mean- are your legs alright to walk all the way to the shore or-“

you threw his shirt at his face and scoffed at him.

you had agreed to let him drive you to the beach while you fixed your hair in the visor mirror, trying to make yourself look presentable. although the whole way there you could only think about the words he said while he fucked you. you had no idea if he meant it or if it was just a thing he said in the moment. and this definitely wasn’t going to help save your thoughts about your boyfriend.

a/n: don’t know if i will write a part 3 to this, but requests are open for any jj or rafe fic!

tag list! (comment or message to be added or removed!)

@ifilwtmfc @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @xcallmetaniax @moondustedlily @x-0-madi-0-x @tumb1rgir1z

[letshavedeernnertogether]

Night visitor

the plot is: something weird happens on Halloween night, and you know you're not alone in the dark bedroom anymore. But when you think that everything was just a bad dream, the man, whose name you know not only through hearsay, pays you a visit.

words ≈ 7.k

warnings: demon!alastor x human!reader, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, voice kink or kinda, rough sex, mirror sex, multiple orgasm, tentakles, bondage, biting, a lil blood, a little angsty in the end but in a fluffy way idk

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

In a flea market you were told it was broken, but nevertheless you bought this old cathedral radio. You didn't ask why a woman was selling broken devices but she didn't ask you either why you bought ones. You hoped to make a bluetooth speaker from it, it would look just nice on your bedside table.

At home you wiped the radio with alcohol to remove the layer of oil and dust that formed for several decades on the wooden surface. When you’d done the smooth dark wooden corpus shone in the dull light of autumn sun, pouring from the window, as you twirled it in your hands. With a brush you dusted the speakers then, next you polished the curves forming the symmetrical pattern, and after all you wiped the radio again with a soft cloth to move away the remains of substance you used for cleaning.

Now the radio was like a new, with the exception of some thin scratches here and there. But you even liked them. They remembered that this thing had been used before. Someone kept it in their home, someone tuned the waves, someone ran a fingertip along the carved patterns, someone put their ear closer, listening to the music when in the dead of night they couldn't sleep but didn’t want to wake up anyone in the house. Being kept at someone's house the thing had become its soul. That's why you loved to shop in flea markets. This radio looked like it actually had a soul, a timeless one.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

A loud noise pulled you out from your dream. Something was rustling. Somewhere from the right, from your back. But you didn't worry, taking it as a part from half a dream, until you heard a man's voice. That second you jumped up in your bed, turning around, hiding half of your body behind a blanket. You lived alone, who could it be?

A radio dial was shining with soft amber light across the room. The smooth and deep voice was speaking from the speakers, but you couldn't understand a word, for his voice was swallowing with static, but even so you could say it was a pleasurable tone, if only the cold fear hadn't paralysed you. How could it be possible? The appliance was broken long ago, not only the woman in the market told you that, but you also checked it by yourself in the daylight. It was broken. Completely. Just a beautiful shell with nothing useful inside.

And still it worked.

For several seconds or minutes, you couldn't say for sure, you were looking in the direction of the radio, listening to whatever the host was saying. Gradually fear was replaced with curiosity and you left your bed. The chill embraced your bare shoulders, the cold parquet kissed your feet as you went closer to the mysterious radio. Maybe it was a dream?

Your fingers found a round regulator and you turned to the right, making the sound louder.

“...better lock your doors and windows, dear listeners. The number of murders has increased this year and we don't want to add to that list, do we?”

‘Murders? What murders? What is he talking about?’

“The Bayou Butcher has a distinctive pattern: although the bodies were mutilated in various ways, the brutality and... sophistication of the Butcher are apparent to the naked eye.”

Your eyes widened. First the broken radio came back to life in the dead of night, and then the radio host was speaking about a serial killer who died more than eighty years ago?! What was going on?

“So do go and check your locks, and do not go out this or any other night. Keep your safe, dear.”

You switched off the radio. You had enough. That was ridiculous, and you went back to your bed.

But you couldn't fall asleep. You were thinking about the radio broadcast that sounded like it was from the past. You knew about the Bayou Butcher. Of course you knew. Not only because you were New Orleans born and bred, and not only because you were a fan of true crime podcasts, and not only because the forest you lived next to was rumoured to be the forest, but also because this very murderer killed one of your relatives. It was a long time ago, but never was forgotten.

Your great grandmother, when she was alive, often told you this story, how one day she and her little sisters received news of the death of their brother, the only one who maintained the family but also the one who tormented it, how he was found on the bank of a swamp, all maimed and almost dragged off to the water by an alligator. She confessed to you how they were glad of the death of their tyrant and how incredibly quickly they were able to get back on their feet, something their brother had convinced them they would never be able to do without the help of a man.

It appeared that your family was connected with the Bayou Butcher himself in the most direct way. And as you were lying in bed, thinking how your ancestry found their salvation in the killing of their relative, you remembered another detail of the killer. His personality was found out only after his death. And it shocked the whole state for the murderer appeared to be the famous radio host.

“I told you to go and check the locks, my dear.”

Immediately you jumped from your bed and by the low laughter of the radio host you rushed for the enter door. Just one thought was swirling in your mind: It was him.

You ran down a long corridor, a single dark tunnel that led from the street straight into your bedroom. You pushed the handle and the door didn't open, but you turned the lock again. From your bedroom you could hear the old jazz playing. The piano and trumpet accompanied a male voice but you couldn't understand a word, just felt it wasn't something good. An old creepy song written for celebration of Halloween seemed to you a requiem. You looked outside through the window, and hardly had you discerned the tree trunks through a night haze when two red lights flashed among them. You gasped and stepped back as you realised it was a pair of eyes peering right at you. And you ran back to your bedroom, not paying attention to a still playing radio, and jumped into your bed, like a child seeking shelter under a blanket. You didn't take your wide open eyes from the little light of the radio dial on the other side of the room.

“My, my, what a frightening song that was! And what a haunting melody, must be stuck in my head for days.” The man was speaking in a cheerful tone, you could actually hear his smile. He spoke to the audience, not just to you personally, as he had done a few minutes earlier. You couldn't understand why and how he did it. It seemed like one minute you were listening to an ordinary midnight broadcast and the next minute the radio host was speaking especially for you. You heard it in his tone.

“Past midnight,” He pronounced almost solemnly, “Finally we've crossed the day boundary and stepped onto the macabre path of All Saints’ Eve.” Shivers ran down your spine, as the sound of the voice from the past, from the times when you weren't even born, flowed into your ears. He was speaking about Halloween, about how traditions of Christianity were forgotten and now people preferred to throw a spooky party instead of going to church, and he was speaking how much he enjoyed it. Nothing scary was in his speech anymore, just something especially charming was about his voice, low, velvety, and dark. No wonder he was so popular during his time. Listening to his broadcast for just a few minutes — the biggest part of which you were frightened to death — you could already call yourself his fan. And no wonder that even when his actual nature was revealed, some people still loved him, being unable to break the spell he once put on them.

An immoral thought creeped into your mind, what would you let the owner of such a voice do to you? The question wasn't immoral in its nature, but the answer, you were afraid to think of, was.

“And now I say goodbye to all of you. Something startling awaits you tonight.” The broadcast was over, but a new song didn't take its place, only a crackling of the atmospherics remained.

You sat in your bed, waiting for something without knowing what exactly. Maybe his voice would speak again — a weird message from the past. Or maybe he would speak to you.

The buzzing became louder, more and more louder, it became unpleasantly to hear, and when you were ready to leave your bed and switched the radio off again, the loud knock on the front door was heard by you. It's harsh, demanding, supernatural sound made you scream in fright. And then you heard the voice,

“So what do you think, my dear? In my opinion, it's a wonderful show, you can't find a better one!” Suddenly the bed no longer seemed like a safe shelter. The shadows around seemed to emerge from the darkness, became tangible and surrounded you. The night-lamp on your bedside table, that served as the only source of light for all this time, burnt out, immersing you in deeper darkness, where only a pale moon slightly illuminated your room. Your body began to tremble as the shadows approached you, and you felt the cold radiating from them.

You heard somebody trying to open the front door, but the lock didn't give in. And then the voice came from the speakers,

“Ah, you're a good girl, and did as you were told… Through the times, haha!”

So you did heard the broadcast from the 30’s. But the owner of the same voice was standing behind your door. You felt like you were losing your mind. You wished you could lose it already, then you wouldn't try to comprehend what was happening, then you wouldn't feel fear anymore.

You gazed through the room and the corridor at the entrance door. Since the knock was heard you were sure you saw a silhouette behind the cloudy glass. Its head hid above the glass, which was at eye level, so you saw only its thin figure. Obviously, it didn't belong to a human. The figure bent down, and two red sparkles shone through the opaque glass, making you gasp.

“Unfortunately, the locks can't stop me.” He spoke with a fake regret. And then you heard the click of the unlocked door, and slowly the door was opened.

In the doorframe was standing he. An eldritch silhouette with long limbs, tall and slender. He had to bend down to step inside your dwelling through the door frame, which was too small for his large body. And as he was stepping inside, you saw antlers atop his head and hair standing straight on his crown as the other couple of horns. Maybe they were animal ears? The door shut behind him without him even touching it, and he began to approach your room.

“You may be wondering why and how I am here but, my dear, I assure you that it doesn't matter.” The clatter of his shoes echoed through the darkness of the corridor as he smoothly headed closer. His every step stressed the words, coming from the radio, deepening their meaning. But all you could see was bright red eyes looking hungrily in your direction. “Let's just say, that sheer boredom brought me here, into your house, to find entertainment for myself.”

He stopped before the threshold of your bedroom, tilting his head to the side. The moonlight illuminated his large figure. The man, the devil, was dressed in all red and his suit was slightly torn on the hem. Between the lapels of his frock coat the two black lines drew an inverted cross on his crimson shirt. His skin was pale grey, hair red as the eyes, and he was smiling. A wide, lip closed smile across his whole face was uncanny and eerie. And as the next words fell from his lips, you understood his voice had the same static echo as from the device.

“Will you entertain me, my dear?” The sharp edges of his yellow fangs flashed dangerously in the moonlight, making you gulp the air.

You didn't realise that in an attempt to discern the sinister loom approaching you, you had moved to the edge of your bed and now were standing on your fours, clutching your fingers around the metal footboard. And now you couldn't make a move, being hypnotised by the creature in front of you. He looked like the most dangerous thing on earth and hell, but something in him lured you. Riveting your attention to him. The red eyes travelled all over your figure, and he smirked as if enjoying your submissive position.

Suddenly one word escaped your mouth, you didn't even realise it, until his expression changed into a pleasant surprise.

“Alastor.”

“Ohh, how nice it is when your name is remembered almost centuries later!” He made a step forward, now he was actually in your room, “A fan of my broadcast? Or misdeeds?”

Finally your fingers let go of the footbroad, that was now warm after your touch, and you sat with your back straight and the hands on your knees, looking up at the man in front of your bed. Still you looked like you couldn't wait to take everything he could give to you, and take it obediently.

“I-I don't understand..?”

“Now now, dear. Didn't I tell you the questions are unnecessary?” But seeing your wide eyes where the horror and disbelief had mixed, he decided to reveal some mysteries for you. Perhaps, it would help you to cast aside doubts that would interfere with what he was about to suggest. All your thoughts had to be focused on him, and not on causes and consequences.

“I returned to my hometown on this night because it is the only night of the year when the dead are allowed to visit the living. I came here because, whether it was a coincidence or not, you settled next to my house. And in fact on the territory that once belonged to me.” He looked up as if thinking over something. A mischievous smile appeared on his face, “Mayhap it still belongs to me, after all, my story was terrifying, who in the world would want to live where the most brutal serial killer operated?” And his gaze fell on you. His smile turned sharper and you felt something similar to shame. The red touched your cheeks and you lowered your gaze. “Huh, I just came home to mark what's mine.”

The fear and surprise in your eyes, where Alastor could still see the traces of tears after his performance, were delightful. He liked how you didn't move, didn't try to escape, and he didn't know whether it was your willingness to accept fate, whatever it may be, or your anticipation of what would happen next. Either way he loved it. Your eyes watched his every move, as he leaned to you, as he hid a strand of your hair behind your ear, as he climbed into your bed on his fours. You watched it all, holding your breath, while your heart was beating frantically in your chest.

“Let's begin, my darling.”

Alastor slowly lay you on your back and propped himself on his hands above you. His eyes didn't leave your face when his right hand reached to his bowtie to untie it and let the black ribbons hang loosely around his neck. He slowly then undid several top buttons, as if he was preparing for an activity that would make him breathe harder. You swallowed in foretaste.

“Now, my dear,” He leaned closer, now propping himself above you on his elbow, his other hand travelled down to your thighs. You smelt sulphur and something burnt, but then the scent of moss and conifer comforted your nose. It was a strange aroma, but you inhaled little more when he leaned down to whisper in your ear,

“Lie still and you won't be hurt.” And when you felt the light touch of his fingertips on your skin, you screamed, remembering the bright red claws reflecting the moonlight when he was undoing his shirt. His hands were of deep black colour, but the fingers were red just as his long sharp claws, curving as little moons on his fingertips.

“Shh, dear! It's not my intention to hurt you. Moreover, I am here for the opposite reason. So be a good girl as you are and lie still.”

His breath burnt the skin on the shell of your ear, his husky voice with a slightly chiding tone ignited something within you. Alastor put his whole palm on your thigh, and you understood how huge he was. You were sure if he squeezed your leg more his fingers would curl around you. His touch was warm, commending, and you didn't resist when he pressed your leg to the mattress.

“Good.” The way he prolonged the word made the wetness between your legs more felt. How insane you were if he could make you feel like this with just one word, one touch, one threat.

His fingers slowly travelled up, so ever slightly grazing your skin, causing a soft breath out from you, as he reached higher and higher. And finally he touched your labia, with a smile on his face he found out that you were already soaked. His two fingers easily slid to and fro, keeping your most sensitive part between his fore- and middle fingers. The little bud of nerves stuck out between his claws, his smooth movements were delicious but not enough to please the organ properly. He slowly burnt up your desire, making you slightly moan at the teasing caress.

“Darling,” He purred, “I didn't expect you would be so welcoming. Good for me, huh?”

“Ahh… Alastor, please…”

“Already begging? Good!” He cast a look at your entrance, which was pinkish and glistening after his stimulation, and almost held his breath at your beauty. He admired how you clenched around nothing, wanting and needing him, and watched how you were dripping with the juice that had to be so sweet from a charming thing like you. You blushed in shame when Alastor licked his lips with his gaze fixed to your entrance.

“Remember my advice?” He suddenly looked up at you.

“I must lie still,” You murmured.

“A very good girl!” He praised you with a soft smile and closed eyes, as if absolutely satisfied with your obedience. And he started with one finger, curling it as he slowly dipped inside, carefully, not to hurt you as he had promised. He felt how warm you were there, how tight, so deliciously tight, and he added another finger.

You couldn't deny that you were scared when you felt his fingers inside, and you even felt the claws, but somehow they didn't scratch you. He slowly slid deeper past the rings of your trembling muscles, keeping his crimson eyes fixed on your face, and you felt the intimacy you hadn't felt with anyone before. You felt him gradually reaching with his long fingers the parts you had hardly ever touched, and you threw your head back, moaning out his name in the growing pleasure.

“Yes, that's my girl,” There was something special in the way you pronounced his name, he had noticed it the first time he heard your voice. He wanted to hear it again and again. Your soft voice made his name sound like a dangerous charm able to captivate the speaker, and your moans even sweetened it more. Just so delicious.

As his digits went to their base in your core, his palm pressed on your clit, and you were quivering in needy anticipation under him, Alastor started to move back and forward, slightly increasing the pace.

“Ah, ah, ah, huh-uh!” He pushed in tenderly and yet with force, causing louder and louder moans from you; the squelch sounds accompanied your heavy breathing and whines, but you still felt like it wasn't enough. No, it was good, better than with anyone or yourself, but you wanted to feel him. Your head swirled as if you were in a carousel when you imagined what he could do not just with his fingers, but with that bloody red tongue he had stuck from his slightly open mouth, or with that growing knoll on his groin.

His palm began to slap on your pussy as he increased the pace, the slaps fell directly on your clit, bringing you even more pleasure blended with pain. Fucking you with his fingers, he leaned to your face. He wanted to feel your breath fanning his face as you were whining in bliss, curling on his palm. Alastor didn't realise he had stuck out his tongue in a type of hunger unknown to him before. Saliva dripped down on your chest. This sigh of a ravenous predator above you awoke a strange desire in you. You lifted your head, catching his tongue between your lips in a sucking kiss. The fingers inside you twitched, pushing on the very spot, but you didn't let go of his muscle. You went as far as you could, until his lips covered yours in a messy kiss, and you sent your moan right into his mouth. You whimpered because of overstimulation, while Alastor's tongue was intertwining with yours in the most dirty kiss you'd ever received. Your teeth clashed against Alastor’s, you felt that you were hurt by his fangs and blood ran down your chin, staining Alastor's lips. Alastor licked everything clean and kissed again before you had time to take a breath, and again his tongue embraced yours and explored your oral, while he fucked you harder and harder with his fingers. It seemed that with your mindless kiss you lit up something voracious in him.

Suddenly you felt a cold emptiness in your core — Alastor had retracted his fingers. He let go of your lips, sweet by nature and bitter with your blood, and stared down at you, waiting for you to rest a little.

His half lidded eyes and lips stained red only made the blood in your veins flow faster.

He smiled widely at you, and your heart skipped a beat, but you yelped when his hands appeared under your knees and he harshly parted your legs, bending them and pressing to the mattress. He lowered his head with an open mouth and lolled out his tongue. The bright red lights of his eyes never left your face. When his wet muscle touched your core you couldn't suppress a sensual moan. His tongue adroitly worked with your heat, rewarding your every moan and plea with a longer lick, with a deeper suck at your clit, with a sweeter kiss on your folds, turning you into a quivering mess beneath his mouth and palms. You held on the antlers on his crown, which were growing bigger right under your fingers, and moved your hips to press yourself closer to him, to give more of yourself to him. You stuttered his name, feeling that Alastor was bringing you closer to your release; his own growls against your skin, sounds of kisses and love bites became louder, muffling that was left from the pleas of your conscience. You'd been ignoring its voice since Alastor stepped into your room, and now completely forgot about it.

“Agh, I'm- mmm!” You arched your back, and Alastor pressed your body closer to his mouth to not miss a single droplet of your sweetness that wrapped his whole mouth as you came.

When your tremor ended and Alastor swallowed everything, he gently laid you on the sheets. Alastor's hands reached to your waist and you held your breath when you felt them on your stomach. You looked at the demon, he licked his lips clean and whispered,

“You look so beautiful in this nightgown, darling,” He purred, caressing the silk of your black clothes. You could feel his warmth through the thin fabric, “But I'm sure… You'd look even better without it.”

Barely had you time to stop him, when he ripped the silk on your body with one harsh move, you gasped at the impassioned act. Your body now was in full display for his longing look. His eyes travelled slowly from your face to neck, bosom, belly and pussy, then with the same thrilling retard he looked back to your lips and then eyes.

“Yes… That's much better.” He purred in low, the static in his voice made the words sound velvety, you wished they’d envelop you whole.

Alastor took off his coat and undid two more buttons on his shirt. You saw the scars on his chest and the fur of the same hue as his skin. And then he undid the belt.

But before you could view his shaft enough, you felt how something squeezed your limbs and then you were forcefully changed in the position. You found yourself, standing on your fours in your bed and looking at the other wall of your room. There wasn't Alastor in front of you.

“You were making such beautiful noises for me, darling. I wonder what other sounds you can make.” You felt his hands on your waist and how he moved your hips back. The touch thrilled you, filled you with both such familiar fear and excitement. Something cool slowly wrapped your legs, moved higher to your thighs, sending shivers of cold and intrigue all over your body. The strange cold appendage ringed around your waist and when you tried to look back to understand what it was, it squeezed you tighter and you were forced to keep your first pose.

“Ah ah ah, darling!” Alastor's cheerful voice chid you, before suddenly got lower, much lower than you'd heard him that night. Something too dangerous hid in his voice when he said, “Don't move.”

Alastor had a perfect view of you, propping yourself on your palms and knees. The moonlight blanketed your soft skin as a veil, bringing something supernatural to your mortal frame. The shadow of him and you were beautiful black spots on the white sheets.

Alastor brought his one hand to your hips, his other hand was stroking his already hard organ. You heard his soft inhalings, heard the movements of his hand, and you impatiently rubbed your thighs when he put his hand on your ass.

You opened your mouth, when Alastor pressed his tip to your slit and moved slowly up and down, moistening with his precum your already wet folds. He bit his lip when he just hardly pressed his cock to your cunt, you were so desperately needed him, and when he entered, he couldn’t help moaning slightly. Your soft walls immediately clenched around him, your pussy greedily swallowed his cock in as he was slipping deeply. He moved slowly, slightly retracting back but never leaving you and then thrusting forward again. He gave you time to get used to his size, after all, you were so small next to him.

The room filled with your quiet whines and the sound 'mmm' blended with buzzing static, that caressed your hearing every time Alastor pushed in you. The gentleness he was acting with almost drove you insane. You breathed deeply and loudly, with his every new shove he went deeper, but not once you felt his stomach pressing to you. And you were waiting until he would fill you with every inch of him. The wait filled you with fear of his size but also a lustful impatience. And when you were about to let his name fall from your lips to show him how much you wanted and needed, he stopped.

Alastor watched the connection between you and him, he saw how your elbows bent and your leaned forward, taking a little more of him in you. You then carefully began to move your hips back and forward again and again. He watched your pussy swallowing him but being unable to take everything without the help.

And when Alastor made you sure that now you were leading, he smiled wider and harshly thrusted forward, burying his whole length in you. You threw your head back, seeing stars, and Alastor began to thrust in a new, fast rhythm. The sounds of skin against skin now echoed in the room, the perfect accompaniment to your lascivious moans.

“That's right… Make it louder for me...” He growled and you obeyed, letting the salacious screams fall from your lips. Oh, you were sure you could be heard from the outside. And then you felt him so deep, as if he reached where nobody ever destined to be. It felt as if he destroyed the concept of emptiness itself, filling you up completely with him. It felt like you became one in sharing pleasure. The touch to the sweetest spot inside your body immediately brought you to the edge, your muscles tensed, the forceful thrusts in and out made you see stars again.

“Oh God! Ah-h, ah!”

Alastor felt his own release approaching. Everything in you was perfect: your skin, your voice, the sounds your body was making at his contact, the way you were embracing him inside you. Everything, but the choice of your words during a fuck.

“Don't be ridiculous, darling!” And he pushed you on his shaft, causing a pitiful whimper from you, “It's not god who's with you right now.” He leaned down and pressed his body to your back, his palms covered yours. You felt his hot breath behind the shell of your ear, as he whispered darkly, “You knew my name even before I stepped inside. Now, use it.”

Alastor made the tentacles around your waist wrap tighter and pressed you sharply to his body, preventing you from any move. If Alastor now crossed his eyes in bliss, your pleasure changed into pain. His strong hands firmly held your hips, the claws digged into your skin and spilt blood down your legs. The cold things now wrapped around your arms, and you finally saw that they were as if shadowed and yet so strong. You were completely immobilised.

“Ah, fuh-ck!” You cried out. The trace of your pleasure hadn't passed yet, and you desperated the release.

“Hmm, that's not what I asked you.” And he shoved in, his hips slapped against your ass, he growled, feeling as your walls squeezed him. “Ohh… Well?”

“A-alstor… Alastor,” You slightly lifted your head, trying to look back at the man, the demon, behind you. He was smiling down at you, lust radiated from his eyes. The hunger he was looking at you with, though he already was having you, turned your mind fuzzy. You felt his heartbeat against your back, felt his breath in your hair, his cock twitching in you. “Alastor…” You moaned once again.

“Good.” You closed your eyes when you felt a kiss in the nape of your neck. “Now let us see your face.”

You harshly opened your eyes at the sudden creaking sound, and your blood froze when you saw how the mirror from the corner of your room moved to the bed as if somebody was pushing it from behind. But there was only darkness. With a loud rasp against the floor the mirror moved closer until it stopped in front of you, and you saw yourself and Alastor above you. His wide grin with razor-like fangs was too close to your ear, the red eyes shone brightly from under half closed lids, the antlers on his head grew widely and you hardly imagined how he could still hold his head up and not collapse under the weight of that bone crown. Then your gaze lowered to your hands, covered with Alastor's huge palms and embraced with strange long tentacles. Your eyes traced up the reflection and you understand that these long shadows grew right from the demon's back.

Alastor's grin turned sharper when he noticed surprise on your face and followed the direction of your look. It seemed his dark appendages attracted your attention. The tendrils let go of your stomach and creeped to your breasts that erotically dangled. A soft moan escaped your lips when the cold tips titillated your hard nipples. They lightly caressed the sensitive skin. In the reflection you saw how your lips parted, the tongue seductively lolled out.

“Don't we look beautiful together?” Alastor murmured against your skin. He still slowly thrusted in you, his member twitched so deliciously in you.

“Mmh.”

“Use your words, dear.” His eyes didn't leave your face in the mirror, his burning look only ignited your desire.

“Y-yes… We do.”

“And what about this? Do you like it?” You saw how your expression changed, a moan escaped your lips, for the shadows slipped down to your slit and nestled themselves between the folds. Smoothly they swirled around your clit, patted and pushed on it. Alastor intertwined his fingers with yours, shoving himself in you. He idly pushed past the tight ring of your muscles and didn't stop until his shaft was fully inside; the fur that was around his cock tickled your higher hole.

“It seemed to me that you looked frightened when you saw my appendages, so I decided to change your mind on the matter.”

He increased the pace, intensified the thrusts. Skin slapped against skin, while the tendrils adroitly worked with your tender nub. Everything was too much for you, your heart was beating in a madly rhythm as if it was about to break through your chest, you were dizzy with such hard breathing, and soon you cummed on his cock still thrusting you mercilessly in and out.

“Yes…” Alastor growled and licked the sweat from your temples, “That's quite the view. Look at us, dear!” And you looked up, barely seeing with your teary eyes anything but the red eyes flashing over you.

“Ah, A-alastohh…” You cried out. You were so overstimulated, but he still was fucking you, and your clit was still being licked and patting by the shadows. Alastor felt he was losing control — the heavenly pleasure you were giving him aroused the devilish side of him. He felt you trembling under him, heard your pitiful mewls, but he couldn't help abusing your tight cunt more and more. You were just so perfect for him.

When his vision turned black for his eyes had turned into dials, the weight of his antlers pressed too much, and he felt how he was growing in size, Alastor closed his eyes. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, made himself to slow down the animalostic pace he was fucking you with. He concentrated on the way you whispered his name. The silk sweet sound of your voice. Alastor peppered your crown, nape and shoulders with kisses, he slightly sucked on your skin then and there, sometimes bit through your skin, but mostly just covered your trembling form with hot kisses. You in your turn felt another wave of orgasm coming closer. His sudden gentleness made you weak, you bent down under him, and the changed angle let him dig a little deeper. You rolled your eyes back, swooned with another orgasm he gave you.

Alastor opened his now red eyes when he felt you changing your pose and screamed out his name. He made one, two, three smooth movements in and out before he came in you, burying his cock deeply, pressing your ass firmly to his pelvis. He painted your walls white with a low growl, while you were moaning out his name. After that both of you collapsed on the mattress, fagged out but drunk with pleasure none of you had ever felt before.

Alastor's arms held you close, though there was no power in the embrace, just a wordless sentence that he was next to you and you belonged to him. His breath accompanied with the rustle of static tickled the skin on your temple. His member was still inside you, you felt how it became weak but he didn't retract and you were glad for this. You didn't want him to leave. You wanted Alastor to stay with you. For this night, and the next day. For several days and nights. Forever. But the night seemed to be passing too quickly, you would curse it for this, but unfortunately this very night brought you the best lover in your life. And you only thanked it.

Alastor moved closer, his cock slipped out of you and you felt how his fluid slowly dripped out of your cunt, painting the sheets under your bodies. He turned you on your side so your nose was buried in his chest. He still was in his shirt that was sweaty now, nevertheless you buried your nose in his furred chest, inhaling the scent of burnt wood and conifers. You put your hands on his back, your legs on his hips and pressed yourself to him — not an inch had to separate you.

Alastor chuckled and left a peck on your crown. His clawed hands, which hours ago you were sure could tear you apart, now gently caressed your back. He could admire the little work he did there, the love bites were visible and they would remain for several days more. On your thighs he left the same marks. Stepping in the world of the living, he didn't expect he would find something fascinating, but there he was with a precious captivating little thing in his arms. You.

A clawed red finger lifted your chin up. You looked into the red eyes that dimly illuminated his and your faces. The thin but soft lips crushed on yours in a tender, deep kiss. His hands caressed your hip, kept your head in place for him to shower your face with kisses.

“You know, my dear,” He said, parting his lips from yours, “I didn't really have a chance to introduce myself, there was no need, you knew me. But! You never told me your name.”

The thrill poured down your back. The realisation you gave yourself to the man you knew as a serial killer, a brutal one, had to bring the colour of shame on your cheeks. But it didn't. Maybe something was wrong with you, you didn't care. His smile was too luring, the touches were too irresistible, the voice was too tempting. You were happy to be with him, happy that not only this night bounded you together, but even the past of your family. Maybe it was fate, you thought proudly.

You said to him your name and he repeated it, as if savouring each consonant and vowel and the way they supplemented each other. For sure your name had never seemed to you so beautiful as in the moment it fell from Alastor's lips.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl, hm?”

You chuckled at the compliment. When you looked up at the man again the room seemed lighter. It wasn’t the sunrise, was it? But the worried look Alastor cast at the window and the greyish light filling the room told you otherwise.

“I'm very sorry to leave, dearest.” He murmured and sat up. You followed him. The singing of the earliest morning birds reached your hearing. Alastor snapped his fingers, the clothes in perfect condition appeared on him, as well as your silk nightgown. All the traces of passionate night had dissolved, only the love bites and scratches of his claws were still on you. You even felt his seed still filling you, though the stains on the sheets had disappeared.

“Don't you say goodbye,” You frowned. The tears of regret filled your eyes.

Alastor turned to you with a surprised smile,

“I'm not saying goodbye to you,” Alastor said your name and looked all over you. His smile he never dropped for this night turned sad. The crimson eyes looked softly in yours. He cupped your cheek, his thumb wiped away the tear falling from the corner of your eye, “We'll meet again, darling.”

The kiss he gave you was heavenly and bittersweet. His lips brushed against yours gingerly, as if it was the first time and he wasn't sure you would turn away. You bit on his lower lip, you were angry with him leaving you and with the morning taking him away from you. Your tongue slipped into his mouth to start a slow last dance with him. You collected the quiet moans he gave you, buried your hands in his so soft hair. But Alastor also wasn't ready to let go. He tried to remember all your curves with his hands that were running all over your body now. He swallowed the noises escaping your mouth.

He parted his lips from yours, palms cupped your face gently. And then his devilish smirk returned to him. The eyes gleamed with danger under the first sunbeams falling on his face, colouring his eyes with brighter and deeper hue of red. His toothy smile and passionate gaze gave bravery to you, and you smiled back as he said,

“See you in hell, love.”

When he dissolved through the shadows, the cathedral radio on your dresser switched on by itself. A jazz yet melancholic melody filled the room. The rhythm was the same as of your heart, the same rhythm Alastor started in you, every time giving you a kiss.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

author's note: can you believe that i'm writing again???? somehow to post again feels even scarier than when i posted my first work haha

[maxwellatoms]

I bought a Gartenmeister Fuchsia plant for my birthday back in January. It was a centerpiece all winter long, but recently it started looking a bit sickly. I'm not a "green" gerdener anymore (haha), but I am also by no means a master. I think it was infected with powdery mildew, but I also convinced myself it was spider mites. I try to keep things all -natural out there, so I dried it out and sprayed it with some neem oil after pruning it back a bit. I really should've pruned off all of the infected bits, but I didn't want to lose the flowers.

I did that a few more times, unable to commit to a hard prune because I kept telling myself "I don't know what I'm doing, so maybe it's not sick. Maybe it'll fix itself. Sure would be nice to have those flowers back." I finally gave up and cut it to the bone yesterday, but yesterday was too late. I had to remove every single leaf because I dithered for too long. It's probably not going to make it.

I feel the same way about our culture. US culture. Western culture (though its really a global problem). The Entertainment Industry. The Media. It's sick. We probably need some rather serious surgery to fix the problem, but we just will not see a doctor. To see a doctor would be to admit there's a problem, and for some that is the greatest sin of the 21st Century. Maybe some of us are just hoping the system will recover on its own so we can have our pretty flowers back.

For me, it was around 2010 or so when I first started to smell something "off". The symptoms had certainly been around a while. This was just when I noticed. This was when I got my first, "Hey, let's not make fun of corporations" note. It's when The History Channel stopped airing stuff about history in favor of aliens because that's where the money was. And rather than rebranding, they just left it as "History", encouraging future generations to believe whatever they felt like. This was also about when traditional news outlets started skewing to clickbait in order to compete with sites that were clearly 100% not legitimate news sites. Again, as long as the money is right it's "just entertainment" and you' can're welcome to believe it if it means you'll watch more.

I'm all-in on Dead Internet Theory now. The disparity between what major news media outlets will report and what you see from actual people on Tumblr or Threads or Reddit is pretty shocking. And those sites are already compromised by bots and bad actors. The tools exist now to actively bamboozle millions of people, and I have no doubt we're already seeing some of this now. In six months or a year you'll find out it (whatever it was) never happened or was generated by an LLM. The time to stop listening to anyone online was a year ago.

Trust no one.

Not even me!

It's cultural rot. It's spreading faster and faster, and I'm not sure what happens when we get to the end of this ride. Actually, I AM sure what happens. If we don't prune back hard now, then the rot takes over. Best-case, you clip the infected branches off too late and it takes years to recover. Worst case? Nature soldiers on but the plant succumbs to infection and dies completely, replaced (eventually) by something that can actually hack it in that spot.

When humans produce art and information, and then comment on that art and information by producing more art and information, we call it "culture". We're moving toward a time when the vast majority of art and ideas we get out eyes on won't be created by humans. Or at the very least won't be created with the purpose of commenting on or enriching the organic human experience. When that happens, what will we call it? What will remain of our culture?

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

CHAPTER 01

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: pretty much none for this chapter! Just a nice fluffy, protective and sweet chapter :)

A/N: hi everyone! Thank you all so much for your support I received for the prologue chapter I uploaded yesterday. I am really happy and grateful. If you enjoy the story, please let me know. I'm always looking for advice. English isn't my first language so please be patient :))

Also, I saw other people use taglists for accounts, I'm not 100% how it works, but if anyone would be interested I will try to figure it out.

Please take care of yourself. I love you.

Words count: 3385

Prologue:

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

"Hyung? Hello?"

"Hm? What's up? Are you guys on your way? Jin is starting to stress out 'bout it."

His voice sounded calm, not worried one bit. It was obvious he was most definitely sitting by the fireplace, reading some poetry book. Kook got him one not too long ago as a thank-you gift, and before leaving with Yoongi, Jimin did notice it laying on the couch.

The youngest loved and respected his pack alpha, so showing gratitude in any way was very close to his heart. A simple plant for a nice camping-trip-hike Joon planned for them wasn't too unusual, a new pair of limited edition sneakers was granted, or a nice book of poetry, bought at the seasonal book fairs he sneakily visited, so the alpha would be surprised.

Of course, Jungkook often spoiled all of his other pack members, but among the pack, it was quite usual to buy Namjoon occasional small gifts. After all, he was keeping them well-kept, safe, warm, and fed.

Sure, they all may be alphas, suited to take care of themselves, and they did, but sometimes handing off the lead and worries to him was just too tempting. They needed to rent a house for a weekend stay in a different country? Joon would by no means even allow them to try and do it. The pack wants to buy ice-cream? Yes, he will go on and order it for the group, making sure to not forget any of the complicated toppings and flavor combinations.

Namjoon still had occasional mishaps, accidentally breaking new tableware, another controller, or losing his keys over and over, but his pack never took it too wrongly and knew of all the good he brought to them. It always outweighed the clumsiness.

"Yea hyung, we are on our way to the car right now, but-"

It didn't take him too long to notice that Jimin's voice was softer than usual, and even without being able to smell his scent, he was able to sense a sort of worrying undertone.

While he could start firing out questions right away, it wasn't his first day dealing with any issues involving his younger packmates. Everything could be sorted calmly in pretty much every situation, and he was a big believer of that fact. Though when he heard a whimper in the background of the call, he too grew worried. He sat up, putting the small book away. Unconsciously, he paid attention to everyone in the house at the moment; Jin's smell was in the kitchen, the occasional sizzling of oil and pots heard, Taehyung's scent upstairs, a bit too far for him to be able to sense what exactly he was doing, noting of Hobi's bright smell in his studio downstairs, and Jungkook's, also on the bottom-floor gym.

"Jimin-ah? What is it?" He didn't sound too overly concerned, even if he was quite worried. He didn't hear Chim sound so stressed in some time for sure. It was quite usual for the pack alpha's to try to bring peace to the pack, always have a rational mind and calm any agitation and anxiety.

Listening closely, only a bit of shuffling and fumbling noises could be heard.

"Um..- we met an omega..-"

A longer pause continued, and a faint voice of Yoongi in the background. He didn't hear him speaking so softly in a very long time, making Joon's eyebrows furrow only deeper.

"An omega? Are they okay?"

"No, hyung, something is really wrong..- her scent, she is really, really anxious for some reason-"

"Did you try to settle her? She could have entered omega space; you have to be really careful with that. Where are you right now? I'll come there to help."

"Yoongi hyung said it's the best for us to just take her home to us right now; we just got into the car and are leaving the parking lot now." Jimin said with the faint sound of the motor in the background.

"Alright, that's okay. I'll tell others. It's better for her to be somewhere with only a few specific scents than the mix of ones that belong to the group of strangers. Is she crying?" His question was followed by a soft sound of fabric moving. A shorter pause and then a yes.

Sighing, Namjoon stood up and started to make his way towards the kitchen. Jin looked up but didn't say anything after seeing him calling, and continued cutting up a few onions. Opening one of the top cabinets, he took out an essential oil often used for newly presented alphas for when their nose suddenly got bit too sensitive with the heightened smell. It wasn't uncommon for betas or omegas to use such oils or scented candles either, though.

"Poor cub. Just make sure you drive safe, okay? I'll try to get some things ready for her to nest with; that should help. Hyung is still cooking, but it should be done soon, did you buy the batteries for Tae and Koo?"

"Yea, we did, don't worry. We got some more stuff from that new game store for them too, but you'll see at home. Thank you, we will be there in about.. 10 minutes? I think?"

"Alright. Be careful, talk to you later."

Ending the call and folding his phone into his jeans pocket, the pack alpha looked towards his eldest hyung, who was already staring at him with questions written all over his face.

"What is it? I can smell you are worried, Joon."

For a few moments, he didn't answer, still bit too confused about everything. They didn't have an omega at their pack house basically ever.

"At the mall, they found an omega; she must have been really unsettled, so they tried to help. They are taking her here now."

Once again, talking without any noticeable worry in his voice. It was only his scent that carried a slight stench that was offsetting.

"An omega? Where is their pack? We have to notify her pack alpha; this could be serious."

"Yea, I think so too. Can you give her a meal too? We should have enough for one more person, right?"

Jin turned back around to stir the sizzling pan of glass noodles, softly humming.

"Of course, we have more than enough. You should go tell others. I'll go open windows so there is fresh air here, and it's not too scented for her right away."

"Thanks, hyung. I just hope she won't drop, so let's try to prevent that in any way possible."

Agreeing, he left Jin to his thing and started making his way towards the private studios.

Knocking softly on the doors in a short pattern, he didn't wait too long before he opened the entryway. There sat Hoseok, turned towards him. There was an open file on the screen that he was working on for the past few days.

"Hey, what's up?"

Closing the door after him, the pack alpha took a seat on the large black leather couch.

"I just got a call from Jimin; they are on their way back home. They have an omega with them though, they are taking her to the pack house."

Hobi's eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly.

"Really? Why?"

Sitting up slightly, he kept his eyes on Namjoon.

"Minnie said something was really wrong; she was just too unsettled, and they couldn't find her pack I guess either."

"Oh poor thing, they get really stressed in public places; she must have gotten overwhelmed," softly cooing at the thought of a soft, sad, anxious omega. Hobi always had a soft spot for those in need. And from the description, the little omega must be in need for sure.

"Yea, I think so too. Do you have any new blankets and pillows? Or just anything that's unscented still? We have to prepare at least some nesting materials."

"Probably don't have a blanket per se, but I have bought a new hoodie online, so it should be sealed in plastic and unscented. That could help right?"

"For sure, that would be great," smiling, Hobi stood up and took a still unopened carton box. Ripping off the tape and pulling out a white milky plastic package, a paper written note fell onto the ground. Gasping softly, he bent down in the chair. Handing him the package, he looked at the note, smiling softly. "Ah, look, they wrote me a nice note!" his bright heart-shaped smile brightened up Joon's slightly anxious mood immediately.

Chuckling, the man stood up. "They should! You always order so much!" he said as he opened the door to the hallway. "Thanks hyung, they should be here in a few minutes, okay?"

Now turned back towards the screen, he heard a light "Yup!" making him leave the room, closing the door softly. Now on his way towards the gym, the young pack alpha wasn't too worried about the youngest - or any of his pack members in general.

It was a shock for sure, but they were a healthy pack with strong bonds and relationships, and if Yoongi believed it was best to take the omega to their home, then it definitely was that way. They didn't meet a lot of omegas at their company, since they were only allowed to do very few jobs. Omegas required a good, peaceful company of a similar group that was kept constant, and with how many people mingled during the tours and such, it was hard to keep that up.

Sudden omegadrops were then a bit too usual, causing more worries and stress. Really, there were only a minimal amount of omegas in BigHit; it wasn't common for omegas to work in general either. Some packs that were more modern did support the idea, but the traditional ones were used to pretty much taking care of all of their financial needs.

The door of the gym was left slightly open, so Joon knocked to make himself known and entered. Jungkook was leaning against a wall, breathing heavily with a glass of water in hand. His big eyes widened, and he stood up fully, taking a big gulp.

"Hey hyung," breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath, he ran a hand through his long, messy hair.

"Hey Jungkook, Yoongi called me a few minutes ago; they are on their way home right now, but there will be an unsettled omega coming with them too, okay? Something must have gone wrong for her; I think she might drop on them, so they decided taking her to us will be the best right now."

The youngest didn't say much for a few seconds. Placing his glass on the ground, he came closer to his pack alpha, his scent subconsciously wafting out calming pheromones. It was natural for any alpha or beta to try and calm anyone that was just a bit weak and scared. It just happened naturally.

"Omega? They will want to nest then; we should get some stuff ready quickly.."

"Yea, do you have any unscented stuff lying around?" furrowing his eyebrows in thought, Kook closed his eyes thinking. Wiping off sweat from his face with the bottom of his T-shirt, he nodded.

"Yea, I bought new bed sheets; I think they arrived this morning... And I should also have a pillow that isn't scented by any of you, just me if that works?"

"Thanks Koo, that helps a lot. Can you go get it and take it to the guest room upstairs?" Nodding quickly, they both left the gym, Namjoon quickly squeezing his shoulder in approval.

Walking upstairs, the young pack alpha made his way towards the room that Taehyung was in at the moment. Knocking and opening, his packmate was laying on the bed, softly snoring, covered by a few blankets. Coming to his side, he shook his shoulder, waking him up.

"Yah, Taehyung-ah, wake up; it will be dinner soon," the younger slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times. Sighting out, he sat up, rubbing his eyes and hair out of the way.

"..Huh?" was the only thing the tired man could get out, mumbling incoherent words towards the pack alpha. Knowing he won't get far like this, he sent him to the bathroom to freshen up. He will tell him once he is able to take in information.

Closing the door and making his way back downstairs, he looked at the clock, only to see that it was about 15 minutes since the call. Noticing Jin getting the table ready with Hobi, he placed the packaged jumper on the couch, leaving it there. Taking a seat next to it, he decided to wait for the rest of his pack, listening to any noises from outside.

It didn't take too long until he heard the garage door opening and a car in the entryway. The soft sound of the motor turned off soon, and with that, Joon stood up and walked towards the entry door. He could sense Hoseok and Jin watching him do so.

The cold air hit him; it was still snowing outside, and the strong storm didn't seem to be ending anytime soon. While the nice, snowy Christmas was, in his opinion, superior to the wet, muddy one, it could be dangerous when driving. Knowing so, he watched Yoongi walking towards the entrance, his coat already covered in snow after only a few seconds of being outside. One of his hands was behind his back, seemingly clutching the palm of the omega.

Oh, but the small omega.

His breath hitched in his throat when he could smell her - the sweet, peach-like scent mixed with rose blooms was really nice, but it was covered by the stench of a rotting fruit. She was afraid, anxious, and worried, and the alpha inside of him felt the overwhelming need to keep her safe and secure.

Her hair and scarf covered most of her face, her eyes downcast as she clutched Yoongi's right hand, softly pattering behind him through the shoveled pathway. Jimin closed the garage doors and followed soon after.

Yoongi made short eye contact with Namjoon, only to pull the girl closer to the doors. Stepping out of the way, the alpha addressed her scent, sniffing the top of her head slightly - a traditional way to show she was welcome and allowed to come inside of their packhouse. Her big eyes were still filled with tears, playing with his feelings.

„Hello, what's your name?” Bending to see her face better they stood close to the doors while Jimin and Yoongi started to remove their boots and coats, placing away the plastic bags. Lifting up her chin to place it over the nice thick scarf she wore, she opened her soft lips to speak.

„L/N F-F/N..” the omega mumbled softly, sniffling at the end. The pack alpha was tempted to coo loudly, but held back for now.

„Alright, my name is Kim Namjoon, I'm the pack alpha... What happened hm?” She looked away, with her hands in the pocket, unconsciously bearing her neck just the slightest. When he didn't get an answer, he lifted his hand and softly caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

„It's okay, don't worry. We will help, yea? Come on, let's get your coat off and eat some dinner, okay?” only receiving a soft mumbled yea, the small omega shakily started to untie her gray scarf, the pack alpha helping her when she started to fumble with it. Softly petting her hair when he noticed the way her chin shook and how her nose was soft pink, her cheeks and eyes red and slightly swollen.

„There, there. It's okay now.“ he couldn't hold back the soft coo at the end of the sentence, watching closely when she unzipped her jacket, taking it from her and hanging it up on a free hanger. Helping her step out of the untied boots, he placed them close to the heater so they would dry up.

Yoongi poked his head through the door to the living room, looking at the omega for a second. Left in a pair of loose fit pants and a oversized pink hoodie with white socks, standing close to Namjoon seemingly worried just as she was back in the mall.

„Let's go eat now. Is japchae okay kitty? Jin made you a plate already come on.” he watched as her eyes grew wider for a second, big and bright, still glossy with few tears. „It-It's okay al-pha..” she softly mumbled, slowly walking towards his outstretched hand. Once she was close enough, he took her own and softly squeezed before pulling her after him.

Namjoon went after them, noticing the footprints left by her. While he thought it was quite cute with how she pattered after his packmate like a little pup, the thought of her feet being wet and cold pushed his instincts once again.

Leading her through the big living room, and towards the right where a big table was, with already most of the pack members close by, preparing for the meal and helping around. Just as she entered the living room, all 4 heads shot up at her scent.

Jin was the first one to move, placing the glass carafe down on the table and wiping his hands quickly, before he made his way to their direction. While Yoongi was still softly pulling her along, she notably stiffened up and slowed down, pretty much stopping her movements if it weren't for Namjoon softly patting her back, encouraging her to move forward.

„Hi F/N, I'm Seokjin, but you can just call me Jin okay? How are you?” his soft gaze was kept on her as she shuffled in her spot, before answering in a quiet voice. „It's nice to m-meet you Jin... I'm we-ll, thank you..” avoiding his gaze, she let Yoongi once again pull her along towards the seat near the head of the table.

Jumping in, Hobi was quick to pull out her chair, helping her take a seat and softly ruffling her hair. „There you go.. do you like juice? We have um.. I think we have orange and apple, maybe even peach one. Would you like some?” Looking up at the bright, smily man the small girl unsurely nodded, turning her head towards the pack alpha for approval. She didn't want to overstep her boundaries. Smiling with his dimples showing, he nodded easily while he poured himself a glass of water.

Meanwhile Jungkook, already a step further, looked through the fridge. „Yea, we have a really tasty peach one, I think you would like that one,” he said as he pulled out the chilled glass bottle, opening it „it's from a farm that's at the outskirts of Seoul. Here, let me pour you a glass.”

„Look at the back for the ingredients, we should be careful with those.” Said Jimin while he pulled out clean cuttlery from a drawer. Omegas were known to be very sensitive in general with pretty much anything - food, sicknesses, air pressure and temperatures and noise and a lot more. A stomachache was not what they wanted to happen.

Turning the bottle and reading the ingredients, Jimin soon looked over his shoulder and too studied them. Once reading over the four -pure white peach extract, water, sugar and vitamin C, they deemed it safe enough, pouring the meek omega a tall glass.

Thanking and slightly bowing in her seat, she took a small sip, and once her expression seemed a bit lighter and satisfied with the taste, the youngest alpha sighed out, patting her head. Taking a seat opposite to her, next to Hobi, he started to serve himself a plate of japchae.

The omega's plate was already filled long ago by the pack alpha, who handed her his cuttlery, getting himself a different set when he noticed she didn't have any at her place.

Just as she was going to dig in after another approval nod, with Yoongi on her left side, she heard another pair of footsteps. Another man, with slightly damp hair entered the living room, pulling out another chair and taking a seat with his eyes still slightly closed, only to have them shot open suddenly, focused on her.

„Why is the omega crying?”

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ੈ✩‧₊˚✧˚ · .*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Next:

[samofmine]

"de, can i do yours next time?" sam says, big smile on his face, wiggling his feet excitedly as he watches dean painting his nails with a light shade of pink.

"no way, sammy" dean says, "stop moving or i'm gonna screw it up."

he gives sam a stern look, holding his leg still.

sam sighs, "you'd look good with it, though. i could paint yours green! to match your eyes."

dean shakes his head.

no way in hell he'd ever do that. what would dad think?

sam came up with this idea and dean agreed to do it, because there's very little dean won't agree to when sam asks, but only while dad was away and as long as he'd take it off before he came back.

the next day, dean took him to the mall and bought a set of nail polish of different colors. sam was happier than he'd been in a long time and dean felt proud of himself. he was an awesome big brother.

one day, though, john caught them. sam was wearing a red nail polish. he didn't say anything, just gave dean one of those looks that got him sweaty and nervous.

after that, sam doesn't feel the need to hide it from dad anymore.

"see? i told you he wouldn't even notice!"

but yeah, he noticed. dean is glad sam didn't realize it.

but there's no way dad would be cool if dean were to do it.

he finishes the last nail and applies some oil.

"you know the trick. careful with your hands."

sam holds his palms in the air, admiring dean's work.

"i think this one's my favorite." he smiles, showing it to dean.

sam has nice hands.

dean misses when they would hold hands all the time, sam demanding to be by his side wherever they went.

the pale pink color contrasts with his pale skin. he looks softer, prettier even. something in dean's mind makes him want to lock sam up and stop people from seeing him. he knows how to deal with this feeling now, ignoring it until it fades almost completely. almost.

"yeah, pink is definitely your color, baby brother." he messes with sam's hair as he teases, but sam doesn't get dean's tone and just smiles as if he just heard the best compliment ever.

"thanks, de." sam leans in and kisses his cheek, like he always does after dean finishes painting his nails, and dean can't help but melt every time.

"any time." he says softly. he means it.

sam needs to get ready for school and he complains that he should have dressed and brushed his hair first because now he can't use his hands. and dean just pretends he didn't think about that.

"stop whining." he says, dressing sam up in fresh clothes.

sam watches while he brushes his hair. it's getting too long again, but dean won't let him know. he likes it like this.

dean pats his knee when he's done, "alright, i'll start the car, go get your stuff."

dean drives him to school and watches sam talking with his friends, showing off his painted nails, and his chest fills with pride from being the one who did it.

(something in him wants to mark sammy in other ways, have him showing off more things he can leave on his body. he ignores that as well.)

maybe he should get the damn green nail polish. sammy holding his hand carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tries to do a good job, his attention fully on dean the entire time... yeah, that's too tempting.

he drives to the store right away.

[catapparently]

Kaz Brekker Headcanons

Cat entering her hc era thanks to my maid of honor @x-liv25 . Please go read her TIG headcanons!

MASTERLIST

Kaz once said "you shouldn't make friends with crows," "why not?" "they don't have any manners." I headcanon that he tried to feed a crow and actually be nice to it but it bit him so now he forever holds the grudge

He has a stack of makeup in his desk drawer in case he needs to change his face up a bit for a job and he's excellent at it

At some point, when he was still struggling with finding a job after Jordie's death, he stole someone's purse and found bronzer/contour that he used to draw himself abs to look strong and "hirable".

He doesn't mind touching animals without his gloves

He realized that when he tried to save an abandoned kitten in the rain when he was younger

He felt bad for it because it reminded him of him and Jordie

He saw it as a debt-ish to Jordie to save the kitten

It once brought Kaz a mouse as a gift and Kaz genuinely appreciated the gesture

Kaz POV: "What a distinguished gentleman who knows I'm worthy of great gifts and appreciation"

Kaz knew he couldn't really keep a cat in his line of work, it'd be a weakness, so when it was old enough, he snuck it into Pekka's office and watched the vicious little feline tear Pekka's stuff to shreds

"A cat after my own heart"

When Kaz got the Dregs tattoo, he didn't want the artist to touch him, so he tattooed the logo himself. It was a bit shaky but then he hired a Tailor to fix the edges without touching him

Alternative solution to the bad edges: He fixes them up with stolen foundation whenever he isn't wearing long sleeves or something that would cover it up.

They day he first saw Inej and she snuck up on him, he had a panic attack but hid it well

At this point in his life, he was used to being in control, to knowing everything. Having Inej sneak up on him (and knowing that she could have potentially killed him without him having time to retaliate had she been trained) freaked him out. He felt weak, Kaz Rietveld again.

Kaz spends half an hour every other day locked in his office without his gloves, lathering his hands in hand cream.

Whenever he'd grab someone by the collar or any form of violence with contact, the last thing the victim could think about is why his hands smell nice. Nobody ever lived to tell the tale.

He's a sucker for a good chocolate cake.

He absolutely HATES ice cream. It makes too much of a sticky gooey mess for him.

He also probably has a sensitive throat so he doesn't really eat cold/frozen stuff or drinks

Once he made a deal with Nina which resulted in him going to a café to buy her a pumpkin spice latte. Once he sniffed Nina's, he quickly bought another one for himself and chugged it before he could get back. Obviously he did that in a dark alleyway so that nobody could see him and use it as blackmail.

Once he used (obviously stolen) paint to decorate his very own set of cards.

He then made another elaborate plan of his and managed to auction them off for a grotesque amount of kruge.

Probably forged DeKappel's signature on the back of each with perfect precision

For those that forgot, DeKappel is some famous painter in the series. Kaz stole a DeKappel oil painting from Van Eck.

Help I didn't realize how fun HCs were, I could make a thousand of these

[dat-town]

mine for the summer

Characters: Leehan & female reader

Setting & genre: coming of age, summer romance, angst and fluff (it has a happy end!)

Summary: Busan is your hideout, your runaway place, your freedom bought on stolen time. Leehan is your first love, your safe place, your everything. At least, for the summer.

Warnings: stage name used, OC is coming out of a burnout in the beginning and she has a relapse, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, past hospitalization, emotionally distant parents, parental pressure on academics

Words: 9.4k

Author’s note: title from One Direction’s Summer Love. here is the Romeo + Juliet movie scene that gets mentioned

turns out i cannot not write an at least bit of an angsty story for your bday but i do sincerely hope you have a very happy one, @restlessmaknae <3 also of course you would start singing this song in july to give me a heart attack right before i accidentally told you i’m writing about Leehan

The humidity of air sticks to you like second skin, sweat glistening on your nape where your hair gets tangled in the summer heat. With closed eyes and the tickling feeling of sand under your bare feet, you listen to the ocean waves washing up the beach and children giggling. You take a deep breath of air filled with salt and fish and oil, something so uniquely Busan that you feel like fourteen again.

It’s been years since you had come to visit. Excuses were easy to find: too busy, too far; reasons were much harder.

But now you’re here and you realize that you missed it. The quiet serenity of being hidden away in the part of town that’s far from the busy skyscraper downtown and the overwhelming tourist traps. You remember spending summers running down these sandy beaches and playing in the water, mouth sticky with fruit and palms scratched with falls and youth. Then you turned older and got bored of the quiet neighborhood, the ocean losing its significance after seeing it too many times, eventually you stopped coming altogether. Now you are even older but still young, barely out of school, the CSAT exams still haunting your dreams. You’re just twenty but sometimes that age feels like it bears the weight of the world. Your world at least.

You open your eyes and squint right away at the brightness of the Sun and feel its burning heat on your bare shoulders only cooled by some nice breeze. The air might smell like salt, fish and oil but it tastes like freedom.

You take one more deep breath, willing yourself not to think of your mother’s disappointed words about your behavior nor her disapproval of you coming here, and push yourself up. You grab your discarded sandals and head back. Your grandparents must be worried already. In their eyes you are still fourteen, forever a child.

And they might be right because not even halfway down the beach, you abruptly halt and hiss, pain shooting into your feet and your carmine blood drips onto the golden sand. Balancing yourself on one leg, you check on the wound, a cut on the softest flesh part of your feet and the culprit, a broken shell in the sand. Clumsily you take your water bottle from your bag to clean the blood off, your skin still sensitive around the fresh wound. You debate whether you should tiptoe the rest of the way or clean your footwear off sand and dirt as much as you can but before you could decide, a stranger approaches you with worriedly furrowed brows.

“Are you okay?” He asks in a deep voice but you don’t pay too much attention to him, too busy to figure out what to do with your injury.

“Yeah, it’s just a small cut,” you brush his worry off, expecting him to walk away or maybe to give you directions to the closest pharmacy but he does neither.

“Here. Hold onto me,” the stranger offers his arm which you reluctantly but take because your balancing skills honestly aren’t the best. Then you can do nothing but stare as the boy around your age suddenly pulls out a plaster from his shorts’ pocket and leans down to inspect your wound. It’s a bit awkward, having a stranger look at your feet, so your fingers curl inside themselves around his arm. The boy is gentle, barely touching your skin as he applies the plaster and once he’s done, he straightens, looking down at you with sparkling, shiny eyes.

The first thing you notice about him other than his height and the low register of voice is actually his eyes, how pretty and expressive they are. The second thing is the way the wind blows his longer, almond colored fringe into his eyes. Your fingers twitch to brush it away just to find out if they are as soft as they look.

Then you realize that you’re staring, so you quickly look away, down at your feet that now has a cute seahorse patterned plaster on it.

“Thanks,” you mutter, a bit dumbfounded but amused at the same time. “Do you just carry around plasters everywhere?” You blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind as you lower your leg, still feeling a bit sensitive but much better.

“I can be a bit clumsy at times. And too curious for my own good or so I have been told,” the boy shrugs with a sheepish smile on his face. “I’m Leehan by the way.”

“I’m…”

“Y/N-ah! There you are,” your grandmother’s voice cuts off your introduction and like a kid caught doing something you shouldn’t have, you take a step backwards, away from the boy, on instinct.

“I have to go,” you look at the stranger, Leehan, one last time apologetically. “Thanks again.”

“Take care,” the boy smiles warmly and waves, the movement cute just like the animal print plaster he had on him.

You limp all the way towards your grandma who stands there with her hands on her hips, ready to scold but you hush her and tell her it’s nothing serious, that you are okay. Still you listen to her tsk-ing and nagging as you walk back inside the house but once she seems to run out of everything she could have said about it, she changes the topic swiftly.

“You barely got here and you are already snatching boys?”

“If by snatching you mean embarrassing myself in front of them, then sure,” you try to softly tone down your grandma’s enthusiasm but she keeps chattering despite the sarcasm in your answer.

“Leehan is a sweet boy, always helping when he sees me with lots of groceries. He lives in the neighborhood with his family and I think he graduated high school last year, so you must be the same age.”

You hate how hopeful she sounds because you didn’t come here to befriend people. When you called asking if you could spend the summer here like you used to, except this time you would help them out, your grandma was happy to take you in but worried too that you would be lonely or bored alone with ‘only them old folks’ but honestly, you craved a little peace and alone time. That’s why you needed to get out of Seoul too, away from its people. From all its memories.

So you just make a noncommittal hum and escape to the kitchen to help your grandpa with the scallion pancakes for dinner.

“What’s your grandmother fussing about?” He asks, pushing the glasses further up his nose.

“Nothing, I just stepped on a broken shell,” you shrug and get three plates from the shelves and kimchi from the fridge.

“Typical. I heard about it for weeks when I accidentally cut my finger one time,” he recited and you smiled, feeling loved and cared for. At home.

The market is stuffy, different smells of sea animals, fried food, fresh fruit and detergent mixing with the sounds of vendors arguing and negotiating over the static sound of music coming from an old radio. It’s busy but different type of busy compared to the crowded metro coaches. It’s lively here and while you had studied your ass off for the promise of a future corporate job, here you are packaging tteokbokki for takeaway, always adding extra because that’s a given for regulars. Not that you think it’s below you, you love the food stall aunties and uncles very much, but you would have never imagined yourself sweating next to a spicy boiling broth in the heat of summer. Maybe it had something to do with the way your mother talked about her parents’ job so derogatorily, always telling you that you’re only somebody if you’re well educated and a career woman. Maybe that’s why she was so against you coming here. Because it was a place she had run  away from.

You’re in the middle of chopping scallions in the back when you hear a cheerful call of Ahjumma! and your grandma perks up more than usual.

“Leehan-ah, are you going down to the beach?” She asks and you feel the back of your neck heat up but you blame it on the Sun. It has been days since the shell incident but the embarrassment still creeps on you. You hope the boy won’t notice you or at least not say anything about it.

“Later. First I have some errands to run,” Leehan says and your granny coos, probably patting his cheek too, calling him a good boy. Then casually while she is stirring the tteok in the pot, she suddenly changes the topic.

“If you have some free time, could you show our Y/N around? She doesn't really go out on her own.”

“Grandma!” You turn around, sulky at the callout. A mistake because you can clearly see the boy failing to hide his amused smile.

“Sure. If she can keep up,” he raises a brow elegantly at you which immediately makes you defensive.

“Are you calling me short?” You straighten up without meaning to because come on, you aren’t that much shorter!

“I’m asking if your foot is alright.” Leehan corrects your assumption with a know-it-all smile plastered on his face but he still manages to pull it off in a genuine way with a hint of worry. It makes you feel flustered for a moment.

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” you clear your throat and clean your hands in a rag cloth nearby.

“I’m just going to the post office, I’m free after that,” the boy says, looking straight at you from under his longer fringe, over your grandma’s shoulder.

“Great. Go have fun!” The old lady exclaims, turning and walking up to you, untying your apron faster than you would expect from somebody her age.

“Grandma, I’m not leaving you alone,” you protest but it’s no use. She tsks and shakes her head as if she couldn’t believe what she’s hearing.

“Please, we were doing fine before too. I can just get your grandpa to stop playing mahjong with the neighbors if more people come,” she brushes off your worries easily and basically pushes you out of the food stall’s kitchen area. You’re just about to complain about your bag when she shoves it towards your chest and all you can do is stare at her, shocked but you can’t really say anything when she smiles so sweetly and wishes that you have a good time.

Eventually, you’re the one to give up. It’s not like you could make her let you work against her wishes and she seems very keen on making sure that you go out and get friends while you’re here. It was difficult to convince her to let you help out at the shop at all to pay back in a way for their hospitality no matter how much they told you that they would be happy just to have you over the summer.

It’s only when you’re a little further as you follow Leehan through the market, when you speak up.

“You know, you don’t have to do what my grandmother asks you. I can be on my own just fine,” you mutter, not wanting him to think you’re some child that needs a babysitter. Just because you like to stay in your room, it doesn’t mean you would get lost if you set a foot outside.

“I’m sure, don’t worry. But it’s no bother. I like to be an advocate for the city,” the boy grins at you and as if on cue, an auntie greets him and insists on giving him a bag of peaches. Leehan asks about her grandchildren and compliments her harvest. He charms everybody effortlessly, a real sweet talker but he doesn’t seem fake about it at all and it’s kind of lovely, just like his fish themed plasters.

With people constantly greeting him, it takes way longer to get to the post office than it should have but at least you can laugh when he loses paper, rock, scissors against a nine year old kid and is bullied into trying something really spicy. You try to hide your smile while the little kid is unabashed about his reaction when Leehan grimaces at the hot spices, finding his disgusted nose scrunch hilarious. In apology, you buy him iced green tea at the next stall you see and he smiles at you brightly like the Sun.

Once Leehan is done at the post office, you expect it to get awkward but it’s him who breaks the silence as you stand in the shade, sweat dripping down your back in the moonsoon season’s humidity.

“So… you’re here for the summer?”

“Hm. I missed the sea,” you hum quietly, keeping your eyes on the bright horizon and the shimmering line of water in the distance.

It isn’t entirely a lie but not the whole truth either. Being so burned out after high school that you got a panic attack at the thought of going to university, so you had to postpone a semester and the disappointment it caused to your parents certainly isn’t something you want to dump on a practically stranger. But even if Leehan has a feeling that you’re not 100% sincere, he doesn’t push, which is something you appreciate.

“Well, then you came to the right place. Not to be biased but Busan has the prettiest beaches.”

“Prettier than Jeju?” You tease just for the sake of it and it makes the boy chuckle.

“Of course! Come on, I will show you my favorite place,” he tilts his head, a clear invitation and you give in because you don’t have anything better to do anyway.

The Sun is still high up on the sky, white clouds clear against the blue of it. You’re fanning yourself but it doesn’t help much. Leehan however doesn’t seem bothered by the heat, so you find yourself asking:

“Did you grow up here?”

“Born and raised,” he nods with a proud smile which isn’t that surprising because he has that more laidback way of talking that locals around here have. At least he’s not talking as fast as the neighbor ahjussi whom you have trouble understanding. “You have a Seoul dialect though.”

“That’s the standard way of speaking, just saying,” you roll your eyes at him calling the way you speak a dialect which makes him laugh. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

It’s silly arguing over something like this but it’s actually fun, you find yourself smiling without meaning to. Something that has come harder lately. So you end up answering the boy’s unasked question about your upbringing. You tell him about growing up among metal skyscrapers, the Han River and Seoul Forest being your escape, only spending your summers in Busan, your mother’s hometown until you were fourteen. Leehan listens and asks random questions like whether you have ever been to the COEX Aquarium or if you ever wanted to be a mermaid as a little girl. It’s surprisingly easy to talk with him, to open up. Maybe it’s because you know he doesn’t know you well enough to judge or even if he did, it doesn’t matter much because you would leave at the end of the summer anyways.

In the meantime you reach the sea and walk along the shore farther from the crowded beach and bay areas. When you come across a bunch of larger rocks, Leehan climbs onto the top easily and holds out a hand for you to help you up too. Tentatively but you take up on his offer and let him pull you up on the slightly slippery rock. He doesn’t let go until you land on stable ground on the other side. There are smaller rocks and pebble stones splattered across the sand there stretching from the clean turquoise blue waters to a cave overshadowed by greenery. It’s beautiful and you can’t believe you’re the only ones here.

“How did you find this place?” You ask in awe, wandering farther ahead. Even the sand is cooler here from the trees’ shade.

“Honestly, I don’t go out a lot either. I just like to go down to the beach and be, you know. So I have been looking for a place where I can chill and well, I had years,” the boy says with a hidden smile in the corner of his mouth as your grandmother’s words about your hermit behavior echoes in your ears.

Of course, you know that she means well and that she’s a social butterfly, so it’s weird for her that you are not that outgoing at your age. Or maybe she has heard from your mother of those weeks where you refused to leave your room let alone the house. Things had been bad then, now you’re getting better. You have come all the way to Busan after all. Was it to run away from your problems? Maybe, but also you hoped that not being in an environment that reminded you of your failures would help.

“Do you always bring girls here?” You ask, more playful than anything as you balance between two rocks, looking back at Leehan over your shoulder. You can hear him snort and catch the way he scratches the back of his neck.

“Not really,” he admits sheepishly. “Just the special ones,” he adds with a mischievous smirk on his face. Tsk, what a flirt, you shake your head in disbelief but amused.

“Aren’t you afraid that I will ruin your chill time here?” You ask as you settle onto a place in the shades, closing your eyes as you enjoy the cool breeze against your sweaty shoulders.

“Not really,” comes the answer closer than you expected as Leehan settles on the ground not far from you. You squint your eyes open to see his expression but he’s only looking at the sea fondly.

You don’t talk much afterwards, just sharing bits and bobs of your lives, little anecdotes. Leehan eventually offers to walk you home when it gets close to dinner time. You could easily find your way with Naver Maps but you let him anyway and try to keep up with his recommendations of Busan places to check out; you probably forget half of them though. You don’t exchange contacts, it somehow doesn’t even occur to you because you’re pretty sure you will run into each other one way or another. It’s all nice and cozy. Something you could get used to.

Even though you expected to meet Leehan, you didn’t think it would be so soon. But trust your grandma to play the matchmaker despite your firm reminder that you didn’t come to stay with them over the summer to get a boyfriend.

Still, you should have known better when you agreed to get cat food at the local pet store in lieu of one of your grandmother’s friends. You feared she would have gone herself and carried it all if you weren’t going and at that point you were just happy if she let you do anything yourself because you felt like a spoiled guest at her house. But of course, she had ulterior motives, you realize when behind the store’s counter, there’s none other than Leehan with his pretty smile and soft-looking hair.

“Are you stalking me?” He grins when he spots you after the jingling sound of the door chime signals your arrival, one side of his mouth curling more upwards then the other, the asymmetry of it making him even more handsome.

“Blame my grandma. She sent me here on an errand.”

You are quick to give him your excuse but it only makes the boy pout slightly and you can’t tell whether he’s faking it or he’s actually disappointed.

“I thought you missed my wonderful company,” he puts a hand over his heart and ah, that’s definitely over exaggerated.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” you deadpan as you walk up to the counter and pull out your phone to get the list of things you should buy.

You show the pet food brands and quantities to the boy and while he’s off to get them from the back, you look around in the shop. There are all sorts of cat and dog supplies but further in the back you see tanks and you swear you see movement in some, so your curiosity brings the worst out of you and you wander closer, smiling upon seeing the blue and golden fish in various prettily decorated glass boxes. You’re so busy looking inside the tanks that you get startled when Leehan speaks up from behind you.

“Do you like fish?”

“Oh… actually, I have wanted a fish tank at home ever since I saw Romeo + Juliet,” you admit as you turn to face the boy. He furrows his brows in confusion and you somehow feel urged to explain it in more detail. “It’s an adaptation from the 90s. In this version, Romeo and Juliet saw each other first through a fish tank at the ball. I just thought it’s… romantic,” you cut yourself off when you realise your’re rambling about embarrassing girly things and clear your throat. “Anyways, my parents obviously didn’t let me have one.”

“That’s cute,” Leehan says, his smile half-teasing, half-sincere and you feel heat coloring your cheeks. How can he just say things like that? “I have one at home.”

He adds casually but you immediately perk up.

“Really? Do you have pictures of it?” You can’t help but inquire and luckily the boy doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he seems pretty excited that he’s able to talk about his fish. He keeps showing you pictures of different states of the fish tank and what kind of fish he had before and what else he wants to get one day. He also tells you that this is his go-to place when it comes to buying fish supplies and it’s pretty cool that the owner lets him work here part-time over the summer. You are so distracted that the next customer has to come to the back looking for the cashier which is a bit awkward but you both laugh about it.

You shuffle around in the back while the customer gets the new leash for his dog and when he leaves, you go to the checkout counter too to pay for the cat food. You already stayed longer than you intended to do, so you do a little ‘hwaiting’ gesture at Leehan as a goodbye but his words stop you before you could leave.

“Would you like to go to the aquarium this weekend?” He asks and you swear you can hear the nervousness in his tone despite the smooth, casual delivery or his confident front.

“Sure, why not?” You try to play it cool too and eventually you agree to meet in front of the place on Saturday, so you leave the pet shop not only with cat food but weekend plans too and a smile on your face.

It’s an understatement to say that your grandma is over the moon when you tell them that you will be out Saturday because you made plans with Leehan. Your grandpa asks though if he needs to talk with ‘this young man about his intentions’ and you protest vehemently. It’s not even a date after all, because it isn’t, right? You’re just hanging out. Your granny waves her hand and chuckles at the interaction.

“Let them be. We were young once too,” she says in that voice she always has when she gets nostalgic. You listen to her stories about her youth even if you have heard them dozens of times before because your grandma had such an eventful life. No wonder she always encourages you to ‘live a little’ and follow your heart. That’s how you don’t regret life looking back, she says.

So that’s what you are doing when Saturday comes and you get ready to go out. The loose-fitting white dress feels light against your skin and with a sudden wave of enthusiasm, you reach for your barely used eyeshadow palette. Today you feel like doing something special, like putting on silver, glittery makeup. You feel good when you look into the mirror but then you start second guessing it. Isn’t it too much for a simple hangout?

Too late, you realize because you’re already short on time to make it to the aquarium by the agreed time, so you brush off your worries. By some miracle you manage to catch the bus, trying not to think about your outfit or makeup being too much, too… date-y.

When you arrive at the entrance, Leehan is already there, his tall figure striking even from a distance, especially in the jeans and tucked-in, light blue shirt combo he wears. He stands by one of the pillars, scrolling through his phone but pockets it right away when he sees you.

“Hey… You look pretty,” he blurts out, faint rosiness coloring his cheeks and it makes you feel shy too. Your previous thoughts about taking this dressing up too far cease to exist.

“Thanks. You look good too,” you say because it’s true, but he always looks nice. Even in the bermuda shorts he wears to the beach or the pet store uniform t-shirt. Maybe it’s because of his slender figure or his prince-like features or just overall the casual confidence he holds himself with.

“Thanks,” Leehan mutters and looks away. It’s quite a different reaction from what he shows when ahjummas on the market pinch his cheeks and call him handsome. “Let’s go in.”

Inside it’s like a hidden Atlantis. You are surrounded by lovey-dovey couples walking hand-in-hand and families with kids running around. The blue hue of water is casted over everything and Leehan’s eyes sparkle in the dim light as he tells you about things he learned from documentaries about the deep sea or at university. It turns out he’s studying oceanology at Korean Maritime and Ocean University there in Busan which is pretty cool, something that suits him. When he asks about your side, unknowing to the turmoil inside you when it comes to your studies, you don’t tell him about the stress you have been under just to get into a SKY university. You don’t tell him about your messed up sleeping and eating schedules, the IV drops at hospitals, the anxiety and panic attacks nor the result of it all. You just shrug and tell him that you got into a good uni with a business management major, but it’s not really what you want to do. He doesn’t ask why you did it then or why you don’t change it. Instead he looks at you with a smile under the penguins’ majestic aquarium and asks:

“If nothing else mattered, what would you want to do then?”

You give it a thought because you didn’t quite have the luxury to think about what you really wanted before. It was always about what your parents wanted you to do. Until you decided to pack your things and come down to this beach town.

“Staying here forever,” you eventually respond and it sounds like an exaggeration, so you chuckle to soften the confession’s rough edges. Even if Leehan doesn’t know you well enough (yet) to understand the longing in those words, your yearning for the taste of freedom and the warmth of a home where you are waited for,che seems to understand. He just smiles wider and proceeds to tell about the crazy lifespan of some turtle species. It’s good, your tensed shoulders relax again as you follow him to the next section.

After you have thoroughly seen everything at the aquarium, you find a place nearby to eat at, then walk down the closeby popular Haeundae beach. It’s not as pretty as the one next to the lagoon Leehan showed you the other day and there are more people here than you would have preferred but it’s okay. You never seem to run out of topics, lighthearted ones, yet even silence is comfortable with Leehan.

“See you tomorrow at the beach?” You ask in lieu of saying goodbye on your way back. Your fingers are intertwined behind your back just to do something with them because they are sweaty and soiled with sand from the impromptu sand castle building you came up with under the last unforgiving rays of the Sun.

“Don’t miss me too much until then,” Leehan says with a corny smile playing on his lips instead of saying yes but you just laugh and let him be.

You ignore your grandma’s knowing glare from the living room as you run up the stairs two at a time, your white dress floating behind you like flower petals in the wind.

On Sunday you meet on the beach and stay out until the Sun disappears behind the horizon. Next week you help Leehan choose a new decoration for his fish tank and spend two hours in the pet store listening to him talk about the difference between algae types and the importance of filters and sub-filters. On Friday your grandparents are at the hospital for their usual check up, so you’re on your own in the food stall. Leehan comes around to keep you entertained but he ends up helping out when a bigger group appears. Sweet of him but you find out the hard way that he has shitty sense when it comes to spice, especially salt, measurements.

The week after, you run into each other in your local Olive Young while you’re getting a new nail polish color and he has a bottle of shampoo in his basket. You end up leaving with a new glittery eyeshadow palette too because the boy drops a comment that it would look pretty on you. You put it on together with the baby pink nail polish you just bought when you go to the outdoor screening of a Korean classic on the beach. Under fairy lights and the fluorescent reflections of the movie in Leehan’s sparkling eyes, you feel a rush of something selfish, a longing so deep it cuts and you have to look away before it becomes obvious.

You don’t talk about it, whether these are dates or not. Because talking about it would make it real. It would make it scary, because then you would have something to lose when the summer ends. It’s fragile but it’s yours and it’s enough, you tell yourself.

One of these days it rains. The kind of sudden summer downpour that feels way too nice on your heated skin in the humid, hot weather. It catches you in the middle of eating ice cream with Leehan and you can’t help but yelp when the first cold raindrops touch your bare shoulder. You both get up quickly and run for cover ice cream long forgotten but the rain just pours and pours and both of you are drenched by the time you reach the nearby cave.

You look up at Leehan from under your wet eyelashes, shivering slightly and burst out laughing at the sight of his hair sticking to his face weirdly like a soaked puppy. You know you don’t look any better because you feel your hair weight over your shoulders like a rag. You try your best to tie it up, out of your eyes but Leehan is still staring.

“What?” You ask, self-conscious and shy under his intense stare. Then you are holding your breath because the boy lifts his right hand and touches your face. His touch burns and leaves goosebumps in its wake as he brushes another lock of hair behind your ear.

The rain is loud around you but it all sounds saturated right there, at the entrance of the small cave just by the beach. You tremble, not from the cold but something akin to anticipation.

Leehan’s gaze meets your eyes. There’s softness and wonder in the depth of his brown orbs. You take a shaky breath as he runs his fingers down the expanse of your bare arm until he finds your hand and then he chuckles and pulls you out into the pouring rain.

“Yah!” You scream at him but you laugh too, a childish feeling bubbling up in your chest.

You chase each other around on the beach. The sand is wet under your feet and the sea is cold when you end up knees deep, splashing water at each other as if you could be even more soaked. Your laughters echo in the cave and you feel the most alive in a while.

You still laugh about it when the next day you wake up with a cold and sore throat.

The push and pull between you is like the waves washing up the shore. There has to be a breaking point when it spills over. It happens in Leehan’s room when he finally shows you his fish family in person after chatting your ears off about them. The tank is bigger than you expected and it’s really nicely decorated, it’s clear that the boy put a lot of effort into it and you appreciate all the details. You’re too busy watching in awe as the tetras and shrimps swim around to notice the boy on the other side of the water wall until you catch his eyes on you. You blink in surprise and think that it’s unfair how handsome he looks even through two layers of glass and filtered water. Bashful, you straighten up at once and Leehan does the same on the other side.

“Was it like this? In the movie?” He asks, curiosity coloring his deep voice and your breath hitches because he remembers! It was something small you mentioned to him the second time you met and yet, he didn’t forget.

“Something like this,” you nod, still bewildered and breathing shallowly as the boy edges closer, leaning over the fish tank.

“What happens after?” Leehan’s voice is barely above a whisper as his gaze searches your face. Your fingers tremble, so you press them against the countertop for balance.

“Why do I have a feeling that you know?” You lower your voice too as if it was a secret and the thought of him looking up the movie just because you told him about it makes you feel mushy inside.

Leehan giggles and it's music to your ears, a beautiful sound. 

Your eyes flutter closed when his lips graze against yours. It’s chaste and clumsy but his kiss tastes sweet like cherry lip balm and summer. You never want to forget this feeling.

What starts with a kiss between four walls ends up spilling all over the pages of your summer. It’s in the way you share looks and secret smiles over your grandmother’s shoulder, the way he holds your hand as you walk down the beach or the way every accidental touch sets your skin on fire. The way you talk on the phone until late on days when you can’t meet or how he notices the faintest burn mark on your fingertip from cooking and presses a kiss on it to ‘help it heal’. It's shared packs of gummies, sea-washed hearts drawn into sand, blush on cheeks and a secret held close to your heart. You still don’t talk about the future, about what it means even though you know you should. You should tell Leehan that it’s bound to end in heartbreak because you will leave eventually but for once you let yourself be selfish and pretend that you have all the time in the world. Or at least pretend that you have him.

It’s been almost two months since you have been in Busan and you have felt better than ever. No pressure on your chest anymore when you wake up, no breaking out in sweat when you see the calendar counting down days, no lack of motivation to go outside. However, one thing is enough to crash it all down. One simple thing.

You stare at your ringing, buzzing phone as if you could will it to stop just by looking at it hard enough. Your mother’s name on the screen is enough to make your stomach twist uncomfortably and you bite into your inside cheek so hard you taste iron as you swipe the call towards the green direction.

“Y/N,” your mother calls your name like a greeting. You hold your breath back, wondering if she will tell you that they missed you since you haven’t talked with them since you have left but you should have known not to get your hopes up.

“Did you decide on the next semester?” She asks, straight to the point as if that’s the only thing they care about. Maybe it is.

“No,” you mumble and you want to make yourself smaller when you hear your mother’s disappointed sigh. It’s bringing back ugly memories. The realization that their love is conditional hits you hard again.

“When are you coming back then? It’s been enough of a vacation already,” she says dismissively and you know too well that she doesn’t ask because she wants you back out of caring but because then she would have more leverage over you.

“I’m staying for the rest of summer,” you force yourself to remind her because no matter how guilty and ungrateful she makes you feel, you remember how hard it was to leave, to go against her in the first place, so you don’t want to go back, not until you are sure she cannot emotionally manipulate you into doing something you don’t want.

“What a waste of time. You should at least sign up for a language course–”

“I have to go. Sorry,” you hang up the call and only when you drop the phone onto the bed’s mattress you realize that you’re trembling. It’s when the tears are starting to sting your eyes. Your phone rings again, your mother’s contact haunting you like a ghost, so you switch the phone off entirely. You refuse to cry but the ugly sobs bubble up nevertheless and it’s all coming back.

It’s day three of shutting yourself in your room and not talking with everybody. You feel useless and stuck, just like the disappointment your mother thinks you are. When there’s a knock on your door, you think it’s your grandmother coming for the breakfast tray, so unsuspecting, you open it. You immediately wish you didn’t because in front of you stands Leehan with worry clear on his face. Or is it pity? In this mindset, it’s hard to tell.

“Your grandmother let me in. I couldn’t reach you,” The boy rushes to speak up, his voice stained with something heavy. “Are you… What’s wrong?” He corrects himself probably realizing that asking if you are okay would be a stupid question when you clearly aren’t.

“You should leave,” you croak out, your voice hoarse from disuse.

“Y/N, don’t,” Leehan pleads with sad eyes that beg to don’t push me away, don’t shut me out but you’re too used to dealing with things alone. “You don’t have to tell me but let me be here for you.”

It’s the gentleness in his request that makes you stall. He doesn’t force you to do anything, he just asks like he wants to be there. Like he doesn’t care that you look shitty and ignored him for days. You don’t deserve his kindness.

“Let me shower first,” you look away before opening your door wider to your curtained and stuffy room.

You open the window and grab some homey clothes from the gardrobe because you don’t want to stay in your pajamas next to the boy. Then you close yourself inside the bathroom, taking a too cold shower but by the end of it you actually feel a bit more like yourself. You walk back to your room in the new, clean clothes and wet hair, not ready to look Leehan in the eye, so you’re relieved when he doesn’t make you do that either. He just gently takes the towel from your hands and sits down behind you on the bed, massaging the soft material into your head. You let out a little choked up sound at the feeling of being cared for. You close your eyes to will yourself not to cry and Leehan doesn’t say anything, he just keeps drying your hair gently.

“My mother called,” you speak up after what feels like forever and yet not long enough. The boy hums quietly, showing that he’s listening but he lets you go on at your own pace. So you tell him about the pressure to do well at the CSAT exams and to get into a SKY uni, about falling out with your best friend because of competitive studying, about starting to hate it and how it ruined your relationship with your parents.

You speak and Leehan listens, then when there are no words and your heart feels like an empty shell, he holds you close. It feels like he holds all your broken, ugly pieces together.

It doesn’t happen from one day to another but things get better. You get better again. It’s the kind of progress that you have to do yourself but having your supportive grandparents and Leehan by your side definitely helps.

The boy comes over often in the beginning because you don’t yet feel like going out and being seen by people. Your grandfather mentions something about keeping your door open at all times but after realizing that all you do is watching documentaries on your laptop, reading books with your head in Leehan’s lap while he is on his phone or braiding each others’ hair, he doesn’t say anything anymore.

It takes a while to gather courage to tell everything to your grandparents too because it’s one thing opening up to Leehan but it’s about their daughter and you’re afraid that despite letting you stay here and not caring much about your education, they would take your mother’s side. Luckily, they understand.

“You could stay, you know. Your grandfather and I would be happy to have you here,” your granny reassures you with a hand on yours, soothing.

“It’s not that simple,” you let out a quiet sob because which ungrateful child doesn’t do what their parents want after the fortune they had spent on her education? It’s just university, you can bear it for a few years, says the little voice in your head, even if you hate it, even if your perfectionist tendencies will ruin the experience for you.

“It can be that simple. I will talk with your mother,” your grandpa exclaims and you know he would do so if you don’t stop him.

“Please don’t. It’s something I have to do myself,” you say because you can’t let others fight your battles for you, because it’s a step you need to take for the freedom you crave.

It’s scary still, preparing to tell your parents something you know they won’t like nor will they hesitate to try and change your mind. 

Leehan squeezes your hand before leaving you alone to make the phone call. He doesn’t go far, you know that the farthest is the kitchen where your grandma will convince him to taste her cooking. You pace around in the room, giving yourself a pep talk, rehearsing your prepared speech a few times before hitting the call button.

It takes three rings for your mother to answer. Her voice is leveled and disinterested when she asks how you are. She doesn’t care, she only cares about what people will say about her if their A+ student daughter won’t go to university. But you won’t take her burdens on your shoulders anymore.

“I decided. I won’t start uni next semester. In fact, I will drop out,” you blurt out as quickly as possible, like ripping off a bandaid. You don’t let your voice waver no matter how nervous you feel. “Maybe one day I will attend a university but if I do, I will study something I would like to, something I'm actually interested in, not business,” you continue before your mother could interrupt you. “Thank you for supporting me through school but I’m old enough now to make my decisions, so I would rather pay you back for all that.”

Your parents are stunned to say the least. There comes a nicely wrapped threat about ‘their house, their rules’ but when that doesn’t work, they try to negotiate. They tell you that you will regret it, to think of all your wasted efforts and how lucky you are, then they want to talk in person. You say it wouldn’t change anything and telling them actually feels like a huge rock being lifted off your chest and you can finally breathe.

It becomes easier after that. The countdown stops and you can sleep properly. Summer ends and you start packing your bag. Going back to Seoul doesn’t seem so scary anymore.

You ask Leehan to meet you at the beach, your usual place, because he deserves to know. He brings fruits and jellies, an entire picnic. Your heart aches because he doesn’t know it’s goodbye. Or maybe he has a feeling since he has always had good intuitions and because this idyll was never meant to last longer than summer.

You eat and you talk while watching the waves and the clouds chase each other. Leehan tells you about the classes he has in the upcoming semester and his fish family updates. You tell him the latest anecdote about your grandparents because the atmosphere is too good to bring up you leaving so soon.

You watch the sunset together with his head on your thigh and your fingers raking through his soft hair, grazing across his reddened ears and the earring he wears. He’s illuminated by the oranges and goldens of the dying Sun and your heart shatters at the sight. He is so beautiful and you want to remember this moment forever.

When darkness settles, you take out sparklers, set them in the sand and cuddle until the last speck of light burns out, until you can see the constellations you cannot name clearly in the night sky.

“I go back to Seoul next week,” you whisper as you lie on the picnic blanket and watch the stars together. Leehan doesn’t say anything immediately and you don’t dare to turn to him. Not before you tell him why. “We will go to family therapy. It was mom’s idea but maybe it will do us good. I owe them at least this. They are trying.”

They might not be the best parents but you know that they mean well in their own way even if it’s not something you want. It’s already a big thing that they also realized that you need help to mend family ties. But that’s not the only reason why you’re leaving.

“I also need to figure out what I want to do for myself and not for others,” you admit in a small voice, barely audible.

You spent your teens working towards a goal your parents set for you and it made you miserable. You’re afraid of it happening again and that’s why you can’t stay in Busan no matter how at home you feel here. Because you know this is what your grandparents would want, because Leehan is here and it scares you that one day you will blame them for staying because you are too weak to make your own choices. So you need to decide on your own. You need to be sure you aren’t just running away from your problems.

Moments pass and the boy’s silence is unnerving. You wonder if he’s angry or if he’s sad. If anybody, you would think he understands but you cannot be sure and it’s killing you. When you turn to him, he moves too and suddenly you’re paper thin distance apart. When he pulls you against his chest, you can feel the rapid rhythm of his heart. When he speaks up, his melodic voice is shaky with unsaid emotions.

“I hope you can find what makes you happy,” he says as he strokes your back gently and it’s an i will miss you, i get it, i wish you the best all in one and tears pool up in your eyes, feeling touched and understood. You nuzzle closer, taking a deep breath full of Leehan’s signature scent of sea salt and sand and something sweet.

“I will miss you,” you whisper under the stars and they witness it as the closest thing you can manage to the confession you can’t say out loud. But it’s in your heartbeat and all your memories.

You and Leehan had all summer and it was golden. It was love even if you never said it out loud.

3 MONTHS LATER

Winter in Busan is kinder. It’s still cutting cold but not unforgiving like in Seoul. It's a roasted sweet potato smell and a stranger helping you with your big suitcase as you get off the train. One of the stores plays Christmas music while you are checking your phone to see if your driver has already arrived.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls for you and a smile blooms on your face, whipping your head towards the source of it. There he is in all his beauty, a fluffy scarf around his neck, a beanie on top of his head and his nose red.

You want to rush up to him but your suitcase is heavy and its wheel gets trapped in something, so you manage to trip and lose your balance. Luckily, Leehan is there to catch you and it’s déja vu, a reminder from the summer when you held onto him, another beginning.

“Careful,” the boy warns you with a chuckle as he lets go and looks down at you with a tender smile. You mimic his reaction, your heart getting wild in your chest that you finally see him again. “You are smiling. It’s pretty,” Leehan says in awe and you beam at him wider.

“I’m happy,” you tell him, honestly because he’s part of the reason why.

A lot has happened in the last three months since you left Busan. Family therapy wasn’t a piece of cake because admitting mistakes wasn’t your parents’ forte but it did help to salvage your relationship as a family. They stopped pushing you to choose a higher education and let you make your decisions yourself. First of those was to start tutoring high schoolers who wanted to get into a SKY university like you did. Even though you didn’t actually attend one, the admission letter was proof enough for many people and you realized you liked helping others. You also developed a teaching style that’s more compliment and reward-based than the strict hakwon style. Out of all subjects, you enjoyed teaching English the most, so when you not so accidentally came across an opening position in a language center in Busan, you applied right away.

The truth is you missed Busan. The freedom, the independence, the happiness you found here. And you missed your grandparents and Leehan the most. This time it’s not just a hideout where you come running away from your issues. This time, you come because you want to be here. It’s a home to return to.

Leehan takes your suitcase from you and walks you to the parking lot to his dad’s car. He got his license this fall for which you cheered him on all the way via texts the same way as he supported your teaching journey. You listen to the cheerful songs on the radio as he drives you to your grandparents’ house while talking about the train ride as if you haven’t been texting throughout it. It’s almost like nothing changed and yet, everything did.

“Leehan-ah,” your grandmother coos when you arrive, welcoming the boy with a warm hug.

“Hey,” you pout pseudo-sulky because shouldn’t she greet you first? Her one and only granddaughter? She should take notes from your grandpa.

“Don’t be jealous, sweetheart,” your grandma singsongs before wrapping you in her embrace too, all warm and loving. Immediately after she starts listing down your favorites that she has been cooking since morning but you shush her because you should at least pack your stuff in your room. Leehan offers to help with your luggage and the two of you go up the stairs while you hear your grandparents ‘whisper’ about when to bring out the cake. It makes you chuckle. It makes you happy.

“Actually, I bought you something, too,” Leehan speaks up, his ears as red as his nose but you aren’t sure it’s from the cold outside.

“Oh, what is it?” You ask, surprised but curious and when he nods towards your room’s door. You give him a quizzical look before pushing down the handle.

At first nothing stands out, it’s almost like how you left it months ago but then in a flash of gold you notice one striking difference. There it is, unmistakable, a fish bowl with a single goldfish and some rocks and coral decoration in it on your desk.

“It’s not exactly a fish tank you must have wanted but it’s better to start small,” Leehan explains with a smile in the corner of his mouth and you realize once again just how much he sees and understands you, he always has.

“Thank you! I love it so much!” You exclaim, throwing your arms around the boy, giggling into his chest.

You fussing over your new pet fish is interrupted by your grandma inviting you down for lunch and suddenly it’s like nothing has changed since summer. Leehan is welcomed at your table as if it’s the most natural thing and your grandpa is still teasing your grandma about making way too much food. They keep asking you about your job too as if you knew anything more than what you told them on the phone.

After lunch, you help clean the table while your grandpa keeps Leehan busy by asking him about something he saw on the internet. When your grandma sees you stealing glances, she nudges you in the side and tells you to walk him out with a knowing look which makes you roll your eyes as if you didn’t yearn for more alone time with the boy.

So here you are right at the gate, knowing full well that your grandparents are watching through the window, fidgeting with your scarf, not knowing how to say goodbye even though you will probably see him tomorrow after work. Eventually it’s Leehan who speaks up.

“Y/N,” he calls your name and it sounds so sweet from his mouth, you feel degrees warmer in the cold of winter.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to call your name. I still can’t believe you’re here,” the boy chuckles sheepishly and you realize it’s not only you who’s nervous. But maybe there’s no reason to. Now you know what you want.

“I’m here and I’m staying,” you promise and when Leehan smiles, the mole on his left cheek moves upwards and you tiptoe to peck him right on it. He has a hand on your arm as you descend down flat to your feet and his gaze is stuck on you. You’re mesmerized as you watch all his moles and acne spots and his boyish beauty that makes your heart flutter. You stand so close that you can see the snowflakes melting over his eyelashes and that’s when you notice it.

“Oh, look, it’s snowing!” You squeal with childlike wonder as you look up at the sky and try to catch the floating snowflakes on your palm.

Leehan hums quietly but his voice is playful when he asks:

“Do you know what they say about the first snow?”

You blink at his sudden question, cheeks growing pink and hot as the boy leans closer.

“You’re as smooth as ever,” you mumble, shy, because of course you know the saying about couples’ love being long-lasting if they witness the first snow together.

Your first kiss tasted sweet like cherry jellies but this one tastes like forever locked in a touch. You had the summer together but now you have all the seasons ahead of you and you can’t wait to walk them through together with Leehan.

[heartfullofleeches]

ok but mono w stoner darling how would THAT go 😭

Funnily enough, I think these two could be quite happy together. How I imagine it is Mono first learns of Darling through the post they made while high out of their mind rambling about numerous topics from their life to whatever random shit their inebriated mind cooks up like how much it sucks food doesn't taste like it did when you bought it when you reheat it in the microwave. Mono finds their bizarre post cute, and it gives them some insight to the human world which is the excuse Mono uses to stalk their page.

Mono eventually reaches out to darling. They're on the fence about whether to reveal they are an alien royal or just pretending that they're a human liking Darling. Something tells them Darling wouldn't care too much either way, but they still aren't sure. It slips somewhere along the way, but as Mono first assumed Darling doesn't give a damn. Having an alien penpal is probably the coolest thing that ever happened to them. Mono keeps their distance for the most part, but one of Darling's post finally gives them the push to meet their starlight in person.

"The world feels so small sometimes... I look out at the stars some nights and I wonder if the universe is just as tiny. I'll probably never get to find out myself, but it's nice to dream that I could....."

"My ship is outside."

".....fr?"

Darling probably thinks they're joking around at first, but the second they step outside they see a big ass alien robot carrying a bouquet of their favorite flowers. Flowers they had told Mono about. Darling is glad to abandon their old life, but they don't think they have enough weed in their stash to last them for however long they're away. Mono's ten steps ahead of them on that front. Its always had a bit of a green thumb so adding a few herb plants to their horde was no sweat off their shoulders. Sectioned off an entire quarter of their garden/lab just to grown more for Darling. Dabbles around in edibles and oils as well - anything to make sure Darling is happy and feels like they never have to leave their ship beyond the trips they take to new worlds.

Mono would have Darling hooked up, but they'd also have Darling fucked up and high out of their mind playing around with different strains to ensure Darling gets the maximum high.

-

Mono: Starlight? You haven't given me an update on the last batch of edibles I brought to you. It has been roughly twelve hours since you digested them. Would you care for more?

Stoner Reader, cradling the ship ai's monitor they ripped out of a wall - staring at the ceiling as they whisper : I think.... I think I'm good for now

-

Mono is an amalgamation of flesh and metal so they probably could get stoned with Darling. They are a little hesitant about letting Darling update their blog due to still being in hiding from its family, but they cave everytime Darling asks them to join them for a picture flashing that adorable smile of theirs Mono can't help but fall more in love with whenever Darling blesses them with a glimpse of it.

[reotheworld]

hold it right there! this is the cock block police!

❝ just think about us, the night is long ❞

➜ how they almost lose their virginity with you

➜ fem!reader

sugar level: 100% | cw: nsfw, fingering, cunnilingus, breast play, handsy make out sessions, consent specified in each parts, mdni!

click this to read part 2

in the beginning of the relationship, shy touches of holding hands and kissing each other's cheeks were some of the display of affections you and isagi would share. of course, those slowly grew out to become long lasting hugs of comfort or sharing of warmth to tasting each other's mouths as the relationship progresses in the later months.

"keep the door open, yo chan!" his mother would always remind him whenever you'd drop by at their house, causing him to mumble incoherent words of annoyance, not having the chance to make a bold move on you.

"would you like to look at yoichi's baby pictures, y/n?" his father would ask, stirring your attention from him and into his printed pictures of when he was still a little ball of joy in the photo album his parents' treasures.

"you have such a cute butt!"

"y/n didn't needed to see that-"

but when one day comes and he's home alone with you, isagi doesn't hesitate to get you on top of him, hands on the cheeks of your butt, guiding your hips to grind on him, loving the sounds you emit from your lips.

it was through your consent that had you two now in this position, him hovering on your top between your legs, buttons of your uniform blouse undone, your face flushed from the make out session. when isagi felt a little bolder, he hooked his fingers on the waistband of your panty, ready to unpeel the clothing for you when-

"y/n! isagi! we bought watermelon bread and red tea from the convenient store!"

seeing you and his mother getting along so well made bachira's heart swell with happiness. the only two women he needed in his life are getting along, of course he has every right to be happy!

"when he was a little boy, he liked my oil in canvas portrait of the monster!"

"oh! may i see that portrait too, mother?"

in the relationship, bachira absolutely has nothing to hide from you. as early as getting together with him, what's his is yours too! and despite his playful personality, he always makes sure you're comfortable with him and in any place you two are at.

even when you've given him your consent and you're comfortable with giving him your first. hands experimenting each other's bodies, touching sensual points like ears and neck, kisses that leaves you two wanting for more.

just like an ice melting when the sun finally rises, the want to step the relationship further begins to unfold.

handsy make out sessions in the back of the school or inside his room when his mother is out, hand slipping inside your panty during movie night; two fingers entering your wet pussy and the lost focus on the movie (with the blanket concealing the hidden motive), shoving his hands inside your shirt to grope your breast while rubbing his hard on against your butt cheeks.

"huh? where are you going?" his mother asks as she catches sight of her son fixing his backpack in the living room. "i'm about to finish cooking dinner."

"i'm going to pick up y/n in the station. i wanted to see her too-" before he could even continue with what he needs to say, a pack of condom came out.

despite having two little sisters, baro doesn't think it's going to be a problem. and that's the problem!

"baro nii, we want to play with y/n!"

"baro nii, when is y/n going to come over?"

"yeah! she promised to play dolls with us!"

he loves his little sisters he really do, but sometimes, he wants to let them understand that he needs alone time with you. time wherein they don't monopolize you from him.

"i thought were going to watch this movie?"

"your sisters are so cute! playing tea time with them is so nice! i even met mr scruffy!"

"who's scruffy?"

but when the gods above has finally noticed how he's suffering, the day wherein it's just you two in his house finally came. and baro didn't wasted any time with the consent that you have bestowed upon him.

"ah! what if..." you huff between breathing, cheeks light pink in color while your boyfriend's situated between your legs, having them over his shoulders. "...what if...they get back?"

"fat chance, baby." baro replies, sliding his hands up to grope your breasts through your clothing, deepening his tongue inside your pussy.

"we're home!" the front door opens, followed by sounds of rushed footsteps.

"y/n is here!"

"y/n please play with us!"

immediately halting and pulling away from each other, the two of you have never dressed so quickly. embarrassed and baro groaning in frustration.

[levisrations]

A nice quiet Sunday morning, both of you just take it slow. Maybe lay in bed for a bit, Levi strokes your face lightly while you go over the to do list for the day. Sunday reset. You both get up, do your bathroom routines then set out for the kitchen, Levi prepares your morning drinks while you feed the cats that were meowing like crazy out your door(you both kicked them out because well you wanted some time alone before bed and it’s real awkward with them there and you just fell asleep and forgot to let em back in) you used just have kibble for your cats, the occasional wet foods but levi bought these oils and vitamins and chicken hearts so now the little brats eat better than you. Levi hands you your drink and while you sip you start breakfast for the both of you. Oatmeal for this morning and the last of the fruit before they go bad, you remind Levi you have to go grocery shopping, maybe hit up the farmers market to get fresh fuits and veggies. Levi makes the bed and throws the sheets he just changed into the washing machine and joins you to finish his drink and eat his breakfast. You sit in a comfortable silence, you watch some tik toks that your friend sent you and show them to him. He says you look exactly like that hamster from that meme that’s popular on there right now. Always using your puppy dog eyes to get what you want. He gives in every single time. You’re already planning on using them at the farmers market to get a bunch of baked goods and at the grocery store again for snacks and frozen meals. And itll work.

[meowpupp]

ik it's not smut (and not any of the reqs that are in my inbox) but I cannot stop thinking about price giving pup!reader a bath.

curly hair specific for 2 paragraphs, everything else is generic

hes so gentle, making sure the whole bathroom smells nice. he uses soft vanilla scents so your little nose doesn't get overwhelmed, and turns off any noise or lights to make sure you're calm.

the water is always the perfect temperature, and he lets you pick out one of the bathbombs he bought especially for you. the water turns pink, or purple, or blue, whichever you prefer, with a thick layer of bubbles ontop.

everything is in your favourite scent. whether that's smooth and creamy vanillas, sharp and tangy citrus, or soft pillowy florals, he has it all. he just enjoys seeing the little smile on your face, how your cute little ears droop more and more as you become more relaxed.

he walks you through an entire bath routine, breaking everything down into little steps, guiding you through it all. salts, bar soap, shower gel, oil, moisturiser. he spares no expense, wanting to make sure you smell and feel good.

his favourite part however is helping you with you hair. a thick, pretty mess of wild curls. he knows almost more than you do, buying all types of oils, creams, hair masks, shampoos and conditioner.

he uses a whole concoction of things, making sure everything he uses is designed specifically for your hair type. gentle hands massage the shampoo into your scalp, smiling as you sigh and relax into him. you don't even have to lift a finger. wash day is completely taken care of.

when you come out of the bath, all warm and relaxed, he sweeps you up. dressing you in the fluffiest towel, running through creams, gels, and oils so your hair looks all shiny and pretty. he helps you rub in different oils and moisturisers so your skin is smooth and soft, even runs through some special cream for your fluffy tail.

post-bath is what he always looks forward to. he loves how sleepy you get. he lays you on his chest, both of you shirtless, enjoying the skin to skin contact. your tail slowly wags, a gentle rhythm hittig his thigh as you share warmth. his hands run up and down your back, occasionally squeezing your hips. it's his favourite part of owning you, knowing that you're safe, clean, and comfortable.

[kawowoa]

retwists with sukuna <3

synopsis : it’s been a few months since your last retwist, your boyfriend thinks it’s stupid for you to go out and get it done when he’s right there

character : sukuna

info : gn. black reader, sukuna swears but not that much, but he’s nice and very loving, minimal dialogue n weird pacing, not beta read or proofread

wc : 1k

a/n : first jjk fic!! bare with me pls i never had locs so if some parts are a little inaccurate lmk!

you stare at yourself in the mirror, twirling one of your locs between your fingers. it’s been a few months of constant oiling and moisturizing your hair with products your mother bought and shipped to your house under the guise that it’ll keep your hair healthy and long (and possibly grow longer!)

she wasn’t wrong—your hair grew a lot, so much that you can’t see your scalp anymore. you silently curse but bless your mother for her unnecessarily good products

“the hell are you doing?” you hear his voice say from your left. you let out a small huff, turning to face your boyfriend. sukuna looked at you with a small frown, his eyes squinting at you almost like he was silently judging you

“just looking at my hair, think i need to book an appointment for a retwist” you explain to him, turning back to the mirror. you brush your locs out of your face, pouting when they only bounce back over your eyes

sukuna let out a short laugh, now standing behind you. he dragged his hands up your forehead, using his hands as a makeshift headband, only to yank his hands back, causing your head to snap back

you let out a small yelp, whining about his unnecessary use of his strength. he was always so heavy handed, stemming from the hours he put into the gym. a grin tugged the corners of his lips, earning a frown from you

“you don’t need to waste your damn money like that. let me do it for you” sukuna murmured against your skin. he stared down at your face, watching how your eyebrows pinched together as you contemplated his request

there’s no way he, your boyfriend, the most impatient man you know wants to do your retwist. the same man that was grumbling and pouting because you took too long too long to come back with food. the same man that would complain when you took too long to get ready for bed

there’s just no way

“you sure?” he nodded. “positive?” he nodded again. “okay then” he grinned

-

“fuck this shit, you got too much damn hair”

you knew something like this would happen, barely ten minutes in and he’s already complaining

you were seated between sukuna’s legs on the floor, his heavy hands giving you whiplash as he moved your head every which way. sukuna grumbling in your ears as his eyes darted from the laptop screen playing a tutorial and back down to your hair

you couldn’t help but laugh at him. it reminded you of your mother, you could practically hear her voice through sukuna’s words, the same tone complaining about your thick hair

it warmed your heart, a dumb grin on your face that sukuna couldn’t see

“you wanted to help, don’t go complaining now” you teased, tilting your head back to look at him with a cheeky grin

he frowned, his eyes narrowing at you behind the thin red framed glasses. he pushed your head back down, grumbling about how you’re ‘so damn annoying’

he was lying, not really. but you didn’t care, you loved him anyway

the two of you fell into a comfortable silence except for the buzz of hearing the lady speaking into the mic, instructing each of sukuna’s movements

it was a constant pattern sukuna easily fell into: using the comb to make a part, smoothing it out with the gel then twisting the hair in the comb

palm rolling had to be the hardest part for him, you could tell with the way he would grunt and how the loc would slip from his fingers, messing up his rhythm

it was cute, everything about him was

—

a few hours pass, if you went to a shop—like you had planned to before sukuna came into the picture—they would’ve been done by now. not that you cared if it meant spending more time with your boyfriend

“almost done, jus’ got the top of your big head to do” sukuna said, you could hear the grin in his voice. maybe you should’ve went to the shop instead

“rude! my head isn’t big!” you shot back, eliciting a hearty laugh from him. it made you smile, almost making you forget how he basically insulted you

“mhm, whatever helps ya sleep at night” sukuna presses the tips of his fingers against your temple, tipping your head back to press a feather light kiss onto your forehead

it made you pout, in return you just get a snide smirk before he tipped your head back forward, making you stare at the wall

the cool metal of the comb slid through your new growth as sukuna formed your favored part. his hands moving your head front, back, side to side as he made sure everything was even

he didn’t want his partner leaving the house with a messed up part. he’d be damned if he knew he was the cause of it too

—

“im done, go look in the mirror” sukuna said after almost another twenty minutes of silence

your head felt heavy, all the small metal clips that kept your hair in place made themselves very apparent as they clinked against each other while you made your way back to the bathroom

you could hear sukuna snickering behind you as he followed you to the bathroom. ignoring him, your eyes fall onto your face in the mirror, analyzing your hair as your fingers brushed through your locs, being mindful of the clips

you let out a noise mixed with surprise and amusement. he was leaning against the doorframe once you faced him, his shoulders tensed up, you could tell he was interested in what you have to say

“it looks good! for your first time, you did it perfectly!” you praised him, a bright smile on your face

it affected him, enough for him to have a bashful look on his face. “i know, i know. now you don’t need those shitty stylist who want to scam you out of ya money”

“okay, now you’re being dramatic”

“i’m jus’ saying”