#but at the same time....all these unspoken rules are confusing!!

[gifti3]

I just watched this youtube video about a recent tiktok drama and honestly....it had me interested

[fairestwriting]

sorry if you’ve done something like this-

What about Jade, Leona, Jamil and Vil with a S/O that somebody tried to love potion?

…warning for minor book/chapter 4 spoilers in the jamil one? in case anyone is a newcomer here. there was just No way i could write this without mentioning his lore. like. come on

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Honestly, it’d take anyone some serious guts to try to do this. Or serious ignorance. Or straight up hubris, or maybe all of the above at the same time— Since your first few friendlier hangouts with Leona, it was pretty much known to most people who knew you that you were completely off-limits. Even if you just stayed friends, no sane person was going to mess with anyone who’s close to him. It’s almost an unspoken, pretty much school wide rule.

It was an especially bad choice for that perpetrator to try to slip you the potion during lunchtime. Maybe they’re a classmate you barely know, maybe they pretend to be a friend, it’d definitely have to be someone who could get away with approaching you to pretend to want some casual conversation. This privilege was soon to end, however, since you had agreed with Leona to meet up with him at the greenhouse after you ate.

The second you step inside, he can smell that something is off. By then you can already feel it starting to take effect, your head feeling foggy and suddenly occupied with thoughts of that person, which just feels confusing for now. You walk up to him, he’s sitting up with a frown on his face, asking you to come closer. Hazy, you step forward, and through your clouded vision you see him leaning in to smell you. It feels weird at the moment, you’re not sure if you’re comfortable with this— Even though that’s your boyfriend, you think, maybe you’d rather be this close with someone else…

He can’t tell it’s a love potion exactly, at least not just by smelling you, but he knows something is off. “Have you been up to anything weird lately, Herbivore?” He asks, his voice full of suspicion. You just shake your head, mention your classes today were all unremarkable, then so was lunch, you just met up with your friend, while you were eating. Somehow you can’t stop yourself from letting the subject linger on them, even though it puzzles you on the inside. He quickly picks up on what must have happened.

Really, anyone who even considers trying this has some nerve. He even says that out loud to them, after dragging you out of the greenhouse into a hunt for this specific person. You won’t even get the chance to remember much about the incident. Next thing you know, you’re in one of the potions lab, with an emptied vial of antidote in your hands. Leona is standing next to you with crossed arms and a death glare, and your “friend” is shaking behind a cauldron, having prepared that in record time. Even if notice of the incident spreads, Leona definitely won’t want you to leave his side anytime soon…

𐙚 Jade Leech

Another case in which attempting anything with you is definitely a feat of courage. Even though there’s a higher chance they wouldn’t know you’re dating Jade in the first place, because of how private he is, he’s clearly fond of you. And that’s without even taking into consideration how often he’s around. Jade doesn’t have the sort of infamy Leona dows, but it’s not any less intimidating of a situation, anyone with eyes can tell he’s watching every person around him very closely…

They’d really have to get lucky to get you to consume even a single drop of anything. They might have even tried multiple times, in multiple different ways. Spiking your food or drink is not an option at all with him, because he’s sitting with you while you eat, and who would want to take that chance? If they got you, it was probably by offering you an “extra drink they got from the vending machine”, which might as well have been attempted before, with Jade successfully distracting you from the drink every time.

”My, how kind of you. I’ve heard that soda is very popular, is that true?” Somehow, he shows up just in time to strike up conversation with the person, placing a hand on the can they tampered with. ”I don’t recall seeing this brand back home. Would you mind if I had a small sip first?” He looks at them, then at you, with a strange menacing smile. Once again, that person is taking the can back and stammering excuses that make less and less sense as time passes…

If they’re brave/stupid enough, and you’re oblivious enough, Jade will just sneakily make himself your bodyguard, ready to catch any new attempts and stop them right before you could get the spiked drink anywhere near your lips. He’ll do it as many times as he has to— And if it goes on for long enough, and one day they decide to not take their little trap back, he will literally just open it and drink the whole thing. He’ll do it while making eye contact with them, even. “Oh, I’m sorry, my hand slipped. It’s really unfortunate when that happens, isn’t it? It’s very easy to forget, since most of the time it doesn’t cause any harm… But the wrong ‘slip’ could really cost you your hand, you know… It’s important to be careful.” He doesn’t look away from them for even one second.

You’re confused as hell, Jade is weird a lot of the time, but just what’s going on right now? He hands them back the can, and just waves his hand at your question, telling you he’ll explain on the way as he walks off to get some antidote. From the nurse, specifically. And it’s not because he can’t make his own, because he could probably do it before the dizziness even hit— It’s to get your little “friend” in trouble with the staff, he’ll even play up the symptoms to make sure they get a nasty suspension… Even if they’re not expelled, you somehow never see them again.

𐙚 Jamil Viper

Not happening. At all. You have no “off limits” fame, no one knows you’re dating (Upon Jamil’s own request) and even if they did, they wouldn’t be that intimidated to try to make a move on you normally. He’s too busy to be lingering around you too much, plus he just wants you to have your own independence in general… everything is seemingly stacked in the favor of that person who wants to slip you the potion, but it’s nowhere near enough to get past Jamil. It just could never be.

…So you’d think it’d be easy for someone to catch you off guard, try to slip something in your food or drink. But there’s just no way that potion isn’t even making it into the vial. Really, with the upbringing Jamil had, could any fellow teenager manage to fly under his radar when trying to tamper with your things? Not a chance. He’s learned to spot real, professional assassins going after Kalim. Catching on to some other student’s creepy behavior is nothing to him.

He knew it before he even heard that person’s name, or saw them talk to you with his own eyes. It just takes a few conversations about this weird classmate of yours who you started suspecting might like you for him to be able to tell they don’t have good intentions. ”...I know I might sound paranoid, but I think you should be careful around them.” Is all he says, when you two talk about it the first time. You know him well enough to be aware of how serious that warning is.

Nothing is said after that, but he’s watching them closely too. You don’t eat lunch together that often, but Jamil always watches your table from afar when he’s not there. At first it’s just out of habit, but now that he’s got an eye on this person, their every move has your full attention. And it’s all just too familiar, the way they seem to also watch your table, or more specifically, watch you while you eat. He can even sense their frustration at how guarded you’ve gotten since his warning.

You’ll never even hear about a possible poisoning attempt because he catches them in the middle of their potion brewing— With a good chance he wasn’t even trying to do that. He just happened to spot them acting weird in the hallways, and decided to investigate. Following them to the laboratory, standing outside of the door to see what’s happening, maybe take a video or two. He then walks inside, no notable expression on his face, and speaks to them. ”I wouldn’t do this if I were you. Even making this potion outside of class could get you in serious trouble.” Nothing else is said, he shows them the video on his phone screen, and walks off. Next thing you hear, they got suspended, an when they come back, they won’t even dare to meet your eyes.

𐙚 Vil Schoenheit

The day you two agreed you’d make your relationship official, you also had a very long talk about the things that it might entail—The worries had been stewing in his mind for a while now, at first regarding his own reputation, but eventually they turned their focus to you. He’s had people interacting strangely with people who were just his dormmates, so one could only wonder how they’d treat someone they suspect is his partner…You’re warned at the very start that it’s a good idea to be cautious of others. But because it’s Vil, and he has all those vocal, sometimes fanatic admirers that are seemingly just everywhere, it can be kind of sadly easy to forget that this type of person could fixate on you too.

It becomes a bit of a dilemma for him, when he hears about this classmate of yours you’ve been talking to occasionally. On one hand, of course he wants you to have friends, he’s not crazy. On the other, he already has a weird feeling from the interactions you describe. Then under all his common sense, he just feels sort of jealous in general. You might notice he suddenly looks alarmed, and he might even remind you it’s important to be careful with others. But even if you take it to heart, would you really outright assume they were planning anything so creepy?

It’s a thankful coincidence that dating Vil also means learning a lot about potions. You often sit around in the Pomefiore dorm laboratory while he’s doing something, and he’s happy to explain the process to you however many times you need. Ironically, the specific subject of attempted love potion slips might come up. It happens to celebrities often, after all, it’s not crazy to think someone would try to get to him— ”They teach you to not eat or drink anything a fan gives you. You accept it if they’re handing it out, but you don’t touch it. And it’s not just for the sake of keeping up with your diet.” He retells you what he was taught. ”You don’t even donate it, since it could be tampered with. Usually, there are tells, but not always…”

Then question becomes, how skilled could another student get, specifically when compared to how observant you can be? It could go either way here. It’s easy to be alarmed by anyone offering you snacks or drinks after Vil tells you these stories, but you’re not a celebrity, so would that really happen to you? What if you’re just forgetful, or they really manage to get you at a moment when you’re vulnerable? Luckily, no matter how sneaky someone is, they can’t hide the effects of the potion forever. On the color of your drink, the smell, the taste… or, in a worst case scenario, in the way it feels when it starts to kick in.

You’ll know something is wrong, and he’s lectured you enough you know to get an antidote from the nurse if needed, and you know to report it to school staff. It’s dealt with quickly enough, but no matter when he finds out, he’s outraged all the same. ”How does a student get away with even trying to brew something like this? Staff shouldn’t allow just anybody to use laboratories unsupervised…” Vil fusses over you, smoothing your clothes just so his hands have something to do. Even if you didn’t swallow any of the potion, he tells you to take the day off to rest and stays nearby. Of course he wouldn’t just let the situation be solved without reacting, but first, he has to be sure you’re safe.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[moonchild1]

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅹ)

yup i've hit you with another list and once again i had so much fun putting it together... i was away for a bit but that spark came back and i'm back in action... this list holds so many amazing fics i've read it's alot of different types of storylines and some new genres i wanted to try out and i am so excited to go down that road with these new genres i haven't explored yet, but please do enjoy this list there's so many great fics here you will get lost in it i know it did, my next list should be out by next month i want to take time to read as many as i can and get back all that excitement so the next one might take a while... since these fics are so outstanding we can't forget to give all the love and support to the incredible authors who have taken the time to plan and write these fics without them we wouldn't get to read such beautiful and entertaining fics so please so them all the love and support in the world cause they truly deserve it leave them a nice comment, like and reblog the posts so others can discover them too and give them a follow and check out their masterlists i'm telling you, you will most definitely fall in love with their work and find lots of great pieces in there. most of the fics i recommend contain smut so no minors allowed and don't interact you as well as ageless blgs will be blocked and if you would like to share a fic with me you are more than welcome too i love hearing from you i hope you all enjoy this list and till next time ~ kiki ♡

f- fluff s- smut a-angst

series

between takes by @jeonstudios f s a

as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard.

i want you to stay by @ahundredtimesover f s a

Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

you're losing me by @sparklingchim s a

in the midst of marital challenges, jungkook and you grapple with the complexities of your relationship. yet, the lingering question whispers: how do you truly determine if the journey is worthwhile?

kiss the girl by @guked f s a

after saving a human prince from being drowned by the sea witch, you’re cursed by that infamous witch to live out the rest of your days as a human—unless you can manage to get true love’s kiss from that very same prince. which would be a simple task, had he not hated you the moment you met.

flux by @yoonia s a ft. myg

One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. poly au

in motion by @/yoonia s

The rule is simple; you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times since you’ve encountered the voyeurism club, but it was only when a certain boy arrives on one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside.

what the fire gave us by @gimmethatagustd f s a

↬ You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

friend in me by @ktheist f s a

“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.”

knife's edge by @readyplayerhobi f s a ft. pjm

The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

take a chance by @crystaljins a

You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

chess of ice by @jimlingss f a

Jeon Jungkook is a rising star, aka. hockey captain of a team heading for the Olympics. The last thing he expects is to begin a whole ‘nother sport, holding a broomstick in his hand, sweeping the ice and throwing dumb stones towards a target. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his love life is about to turn into a game of chess as well....and you’re his opponent.

diamond in the rough by @kimvtae f s a

When a business heir from Busan, Jeon Jungkook, meets you, a poor girl from Daegu, he doesn’t expect to fall as quickly as he does. He’s been told for his entire life to avoid Daegu, a town riddled with gangs and a history of a brutal murder in Busan, but he can’t stay away from you, even when he’s warned that you’re not good enough for him.

try hard by @hobibliophile f s

Yoongi asks you to help him photograph the university rugby team, and you’re reluctant until you see Jeon Jungkook in uniform. Damn.

cruel intentions by @jeonqukie f s a

All is well in your overtly simplistic life. You managed to maintain decent grades in university all the while progressing through your relationship with your long-time boyfriend and accompanying your best friend in her exhausting personal life. But as the saying goes when there are ups, there will surely be downs. While you’ve maintained this upward pattern, you are defeated when one afternoon inevitably brings you to a downward spiral. All good things must come to an end. Who knew you would be sharing the same sentiment with someone you barely know.

sillage by @deerguk s

Soulmate!AU where soulmates are drawn to one another by the infliction of physical touch, whether it be pain or pleasure. But it is only initiated once the two people somewhat interact.

remote learning by @hansolmates s

working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two.

when it rains by @choiwrites s a

Being an exotic dancer was never easy. Every day was the same for you, until you reached that one breaking point you’ve been avoiding since your miserable life started. On a rainy night, Jungkook and his yellow umbrella were your last call of hope.

hate at first weeb by artaemis, freckleyoon (ao3)

You just want to weeb in peace but your annoying downstairs neighbour just won't let you breathe

wanted by @jincherie s a

You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.  

everything in you by @jjungkookislife f s a

You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help. f2l, roommates au, pregnant!reader

home for the holidays by @/jjungkookislife f s a

Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad. You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.

every breath you take by @junqkook s a

everything was going great when you first met jeon jungkook. he was a new light in your life with soft smiles and tinkling laughs; but then you noticed a lurking presence that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

navy by @jjkfire f a

He’s your best friend, practically your other half and the two of you have always promised to be there for each other no matter what. The both of you have dreams of professionally making music together one day and to you it’s almost like reality, a given really, and with each day, the dream starts to feel like it’s within reach. But, one day, with one sentence, Jungkook destroys it all.

wicked by @adonis-koo s a

In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

paper doll by @winetae s a

When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed — it was you.

one shot

the devil's change up by @jungblue f s

Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better. 

this is how we break up by @/ahundredtimesover s a

There are things you prepared for coming back home and that includes seeing your ex-boyfriend, but helping him design his apartment isn’t one of them. From meetings over coffee and lunches with your friends, you both learn more about the time in-between, and what you find out leave you heartbroken, wondering if there’s enough of you left to try to get back what you’d lost. “You know what they say about past lovers remaining friends? It’s either they never loved each other to begin with, or they still do. And we all know how much they loved each other, don’t we?”

a piece of the moonlight by @/jimlingss f a

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

the quest to bedding the lead singer of frontman by @kpopfanfictrash s

Frontman is your favorite band in the world and honestly, the only reason you waited this long in line is to stand at the front for a shot with the lead singer. Enter sexy sound boy, who just won’t leave you alone. (punk!Jungkook)

heartbreak trials by @dreamyjoons s a

it all started with a bet: the one with the highest body count would get the most illustrious prize - Namjoon’s bedroom. For you and Jungkook, the race was on.

perhaps love by @mangowillow f a

for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

what? now by @theharrowing f s

For as long as you and Jungkook have been friends, your feelings for him have been unrequited. Or have they?

lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks f a

the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

tell me no lies by @jeongi f s a

You chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him.

mcd*ckin by @jinned s

"So, if I'm so predictable," you tease, running your finger along his clothed chest, "what am I going to do next?"

things you said while you were driving by @cupofteaguk f

post breakup au

(y)our name by @jjkpls f s a ft ot 6

It’s always been the two of you since you were little. People came and went in your lives and Jungkook didn’t mind until you turn into grown-ups and he starts to mind a bit too much.

(un)welcomed addition by @shuadotcom f a

After a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind...unless your feelings get in the way of course.

Just Like the Movies by @/shuadotcom f s a

When you need a fake date for your cousin’s wedding and all of your other friends have plans, that only leaves your best friend Jungkook - who you also happen to be completely in love with. It’ll be easy getting through a week of fake dating him, right?

watermelon sugar by @/shuadotcom f s a

When your friends outvote you for your annual summer trip, you end up stuck at a beachside town. To make it worse, there’s an irritating local surfer boy that won’t leave you alone… that is until you see him shirtless and in the water - then you don’t want him to leave you alone and your unexpected summer romance begins.

take my whole life by @/ktheist f s a

chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.

never let you go by @yeojaa f s

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t. (or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

speaking in bodies by @/yeojaa f s a

The holidays have never meant much to you - less a promise of Christmas morning joy and more a reminder of all the things you’ve lost.  Some would call you a grinch; others, just a plain old asshole.  Jeon Jungkook would call you both.  The more time you spend together, though, the more you thaw, melting beneath the sun that seems to sit right in the centre of his chest.

howling for you by @fortunexkookie f s

The way your Little Red Riding Hood costume lured over a fuckboy in a half-assed werewolf costume was a little cliche, but god damn was he beautiful. He promised he had plenty of big things to show you, and you took him up on the offer, not realizing that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew

cold nights & blurred lines by @awrkive f s a

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

christmas is waiting for you by @/lamourche f s ft myg (ao3)

Being home for the holidays surrounded by your well-meaning family isn’t that bad. All you have to do is (1) survive the Andersons’ annual Christmas Eve party, (2) avoid all questions about your job, and (3) avoid your high school nemesis (not a crush!), Jeon Jungkook.

lost stars by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Falling in love with Jeon Jungkook was everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but maybe it was exactly that: a dream so blissful and comforting that it was too good to be true, something that could all disappear when the night changes to day, and your eyes open again. Or, making a marriage pact with your best friend was supposed to instill a sense of hope for you, so why does this hurt you more than it should?

a beautiful epiphany by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Derailed by heartbreak and the loss of inspiration, Jeon Jungkook tries to rediscover his love for art again. As his best friend, you’re willing to do anything to help him reignite his lost passion. Little do you know that the struggling artist’s new muse is closer than you think.

the philosophy of goodluck by @kidguk f s

“you told me i looked good and that you needed to get a tattoo of my face” is not the explanation you wanted to hear from the tattoo artist that permanently etched the dumbest drunken request of your life onto your skin.

mountebank by @/kidguk f s ft. pjm

Soulmate AU featuring Jimin, in which you’ve been waking up next to your soul-enemy and running from your soul-mate. Figure that mess out, will you? 

holidays of breads and wood by @cutaepatootie f a

Every December now smells like freshly baked bread and wood to you. Its cold wind brings you memories of him every morning as you are kneading your mixture of water, flour and a pinch of nutmeg – the secret ingredient that makes your bread taste so special. It seeps through the open window of your small kitchen and shakes your entire body. It seeps under your flour-stained apron, getting through your clothes and reminding you of his soft touch. It sounds like forest and shines like snow under the sunlight. It fills your nostrils with familiar scents. Every December now feels like distant memories of a man you once knew, who loved to carve his dreams in wood.

a fallen bookmark on a thursday afternoon by @/cutaepatootie f s a

He came to you like the air comes into the train station after the fast arriving of the machine. It comes fast and unexpected, making you hoist your head to look at the long vehicle and the people inside. It is so fast you can’t even distinguish the different wagons. As the train comes to a stop, the wind that it creates plays with your hair, leaving you breathless. That’s how Jeon Jungkook came into your life.

every kind of way by @gukslut s

Three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK

heavy lifting by @snackhobi f

you work the night shift in a supermarket. and now your crush, aka the cutest boy in the world, aka the guy you’ve been thirsting after for months, aka jeon jungkook, works the night shift too.

blue orchid by @inkedtae f a

hanahaki & soulmate au

up to snow good by @aredheadedmess f a

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

cherry bomb by @milfgyuu f s

You’re a cocktail waitress in a high end nightclub and you’ve been mutually crushing on one of the bartenders. Tonight, one of your customers oversteps boundaries and when Jungkook gets involved, you’re ready to toss your ‘no dating co-workers’ policy out the window. 

work it out by @/choiwrites s

You never would have thought that you’d be working with the college dropout who was coincidentally your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Saying his name already burns your tongue, you wonder how long you can hold your professionalism around him.

all in by @iamjungkooked s a

Jeon Jungkook is everything you have ever desired in a partner. He’s kind, passionate, funny, honest, warm and every positive adjective in the dictionary. He totally gets you and you get him. He seems like the perfect guy for you, except he is dating your best friend. What could possibly go wrong?  OR  The four times you get the wind knocked out of you by Jeon Jeongguk

until my last breath by @/iamjungkooked s a

Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect. (Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

está dañada by @aquagustd f s a

life through the eyes of someone who watches you fall apart and helps gather the shards of your heart, only for you to make the same mistake time and time again, but he refuses to accept the truth because to him, you’re infallible.

coin toss by @yoondoze a

you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

wonder by @bubmyg f a

romance novels lie about finding some deep epiphany in the ocean because you find your inspiration in some chlorine tainted red locks or where jeongguk isn’t smooth with a pool net. 

starboy by @sugaxjpg s

Jeon Jungkook was, above anything else, the type you should not get involved with. He was the guy who slept around; the guy who was gone before you woke up; who left a path of broken hearts and missed calls wherever he went. He was right in just about every wrong way. That being said, maybe the bet you made with your friend could be the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and even enough to break the chain of misfortune that circled your party nights — after all, it was all just a simple, four-part plan to make Jungkook beg for you. What could possibly go wrong?

symmetry by @adriftmoonchild s a

with both of you being from rival houses, the smirk that jungkook seemed to throw in your direction every shared class did nothing for your disdain towards him. as far as you were concerned he was arrogant and childish; you just wished he wasn’t so damn good in bed.

little surfer girl by @ppersonna f s a

every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer.  every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

[prettyangellllll]

Stay the Night

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: It was an unspoken rule—no sleepovers, no attachments, no complications. You and Rafe had kept things strictly physical for months, leaving before things got too comfortable. But tonight, just as you're slipping out of his bed, gathering your clothes like always, he breaks the rule. "Where are you going?" The question hangs in the air, heavier than it should be. Then, for the first time, Rafe asks you to stay. And that simple request might just change everything.

Warnings: Friends with benefits, angst, tension, brief mention of alcohol, emotional confusion, implied/referenced smut, Rafe being Rafe, strong language.

-------

The sheets were still warm against your skin as you pushed them aside, slipping out of Rafe’s bed as quietly as possible. Your fingers curled around the scattered pieces of your clothing, your body moving on autopilot as you got dressed in the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through his window.

This was routine. A well-rehearsed act. No sleepovers. No unnecessary intimacy. No lingering.

You’d spent months perfecting this arrangement with Rafe—late-night calls, rushed encounters filled with desperation, and a silent understanding that once it was over, you left. That was the rule. And you both followed it, no matter how hazy your mind was after he had his way with you.

But tonight, something felt different.

Just as you hooked your bra back into place, a deep voice, laced with exhaustion and something else you couldn’t quite place, cut through the silence.

“Where are you going?”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you turned to see Rafe propped up on one elbow, his messy hair falling over his forehead. His blue eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, were softer in the dim light, heavy with something unfamiliar.

You blinked, caught off guard. He never asked that. Never acknowledged your departure.

“Home,” you answered slowly, testing the waters, waiting for the usual smirk, the casual dismissal that let you know everything was still the same.

Instead, he let out a low hum and ran a hand over his face before fixing his gaze back on you. “Stay.”

The word was simple, but it carried weight. A shift. A crack in the foundation you both had carefully built.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. “What?”

“I said stay,” Rafe repeated, firmer this time, like he wasn’t used to repeating himself. Like he had already decided this for the both of you.

You hesitated, arms hugging yourself as you studied him. “I thought we don’t do that.”

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair before leaning back against the pillows. “Yeah, well. Maybe I changed my mind.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, debating. You should leave. You should remind him that this wasn’t how things worked between you two.

But then Rafe reached out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, a silent plea laced in his touch.

“Just stay,” he murmured, tugging gently, pulling you closer to the bed.

And against all logic, against every warning in your head, you let him.

Because maybe, just maybe, you had been waiting for this moment, too.

You slowly settled back onto the mattress, the warmth of his body already pulling you in like gravity. Rafe exhaled, shifting closer, his arm draping over your waist in a way that felt too natural. His hand traced slow, lazy circles on your hip, a touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine.

Neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken agreement. You could feel his steady breathing against your back, the way his fingers curled possessively against your skin as if anchoring you there, as if afraid you’d slip away again.

“Don’t overthink it,” he muttered sleepily, voice rough with exhaustion. “Just… stay.”

You swallowed hard, your mind screaming at you to get up, to run before this turned into something you couldn’t control. But your body betrayed you, melting into the warmth of his embrace, letting the scent of him lull you into something dangerously close to comfort.

For the first time, you didn’t leave.

For the first time, Rafe didn’t want you to.

[sayoneee]

☆ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE

percy jackson is a nuisance. a nuisance you have always been fond of, some way, somehow. (5.6k)

contains: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader. post tlo (spoilers). kind of melancholy but it gets better (kind of). book percy.

kashaf’s note: guess whos alive!

TO QUESTION, to ponder, to seek out the gods is sacrilegious. the gods preferred their divinity to be kept strictly within the confines of worship — whether by completing their ‘menial’ tasks or by committing sacrifices, they, in their infinite wisdom, are not allowed to be objected to. 

“so, my mom’s a god? of love?” 

you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and mentally counted to three. opening your eyes, you make eye contact with the newest addition to camp, and your newest responsibility. bruised and scuffed, the poor kid blinks back at you confusedly as you mull your options. “yes, and no,” you decide.

“our mom’s a goddess, and love is just the most common of her jurisdictions.” 

the new camper looks around the cabin, taking it in, you follow their gaze, lingering on the painted swans on the wall behind you, and bouncing to the pearls adorning the vanity, littered with various seashell trays holding gold jewelry (the first time you had entered these very walls, your throat had tightened at the pure ostentatiousness of it all).

they glance back at you, confused. you sighed again, “yes, our mom is the goddess of love.”

“oh.”

the candles residing in conches flicker as if waiting to pass judgment, and silence blankets you and the new camper once more (this is potentially your fiftieth time attempting to explain the same concept, yet you’re no better at it than when you first started — shaking and solemn). 

needless to say, it’s more than just difficult to explain this tacit rule to new campers — after whatever tragic event transpired for them to realize that the greek gods of myth and legend indeed exist, they simply don’t have the mental capacity to learn the unspoken rules of the whole being a demigod thing.

you could be warmer, somehow, you suppose, with your mother being the goddess of love and all — in all honesty, you’re still not sure how you became the aphrodite cabin counselor, over selina (the entirety of camp half-blood’s favorite daughter of aphrodite) but the counselorship would have ended up in your hands anyway, after everything (the sight of her once-beautiful face as she coughed up blood in clarisse’s lap swims across your memories). 

you pinched the bridge of your nose again, sighing as the candles snuffed out all at once of their own accord (judgment has been passed), “take the empty bed in the corner, we get up at like the ass crack of dawn so you might wanna catch up on your sleep.”

you watched the kid sit on the bed (looking every bit out of place as you did when you first arrived amidst the sheer indulgence the cabin is), and you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest as the child (the entire camp is full of children, but the vast majority of you have never gotten the chance to be the children that you are) stared wide-eyed at posters of movie stars, like tristan mclean, adorning the walls.

with one last glance and forlorn smile at the kid, you walked out of your cabin, your expression hardening at the sight of other campers. the walk to the arena is a short yet bleak one, in the silence you can hear drew’s screaming ringing in your ear (drew is preferable to hearing your other half-siblings, ethan, or even luke; drew is alive).

in the middle of the sword-fighting lesson being taught, you slipped into the arena, undetected for the most part except for the pair of sea-green eyes trained on your figure as you came and stood next to him, clearly hanging back.

“this is usually your shit, jackson,” you say, ignoring how pitiful your racing heart is, and watching clarisse at the helm, steam blowing out of her ears as new campers fell over themselves trying to parry and block with wooden swords.

percy turns to look at you, and from the corner of your eye, you can sense the storm brewing across his face. “maybe i’m not the attention whore you think i am,” he snorts, and there is a small trace of bile in his voice, but you don’t focus on that.

instead, your face burns at the memory of your last argument after you dove in front of ethan’s knife (you still wince when you remember the way his visible eye widened when he realized it was you who caught the blow), and percy’s bitterness as will patched you up, what the fuck is wrong with you, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.

and your weak but indignant reply, i literally saved your life, asshole. are you that much of an attention-whore that you need to be the one on their deathbed right now?

“i’d say you kind of are,” you say, turning to meet his gaze (for a brief, stupid, second you wonder if somehow he was a son of zeus because of how the air suddenly became charged with electricity), arms folding across your chest. “the whole making the gods pay child support is a bit attention-whore-esque.”

percy laughed, a sound you and the other campers haven’t heard in a while (it’s different from before but it is still a sound that in your weaker moments, you admit to craving to hear). “someone had to do it,” he says, sobering up immediately.

“luke tried,” you whispered (the name is still taboo around camp), shivering as you felt percy stiffen beside you. a beat passes and the resulting silence is suffocating.

percy offers you a sad, tight smile before walking out of the arena. you watch him go with a strange pain in your chest and a longing for the before, the laughter leaping across the sun-drenched strawberry fields, the joking i told you so’s during meals, and the softness of the campfire sing-a-longs.

it’s hard not to blame the gods, for that is blasphemy, but on most nights, you find yourself uttering your mother’s name with a tangible acidity, and you find that you’re not alone in this sentiment. the once-reverent echoes of aphrodite, promise me true love, promise me victory, promise me beauty, have now faded to lifeless whispers — formalities instead of prayers. 

even your own prayers are different now, you pray for the sea — if your mother is allowed to be ambiguous with her gifts (curses) then she must expect the same ambiguity in your prayers in return. when you’re done half-heartedly muttering your prayers and sacrificing your food, your gaze meets a familiar pair of sea-green eyes across the campfire, glowing like a beacon in the dark. 

standing up, you find drew, looking every bit as perfect as ever. you lean down to whisper, “lights out at eleven, i’ll be back.” 

drew nods, squeezing your hand before she begins herding the rest of your half-siblings back to your cabin, solemn and toneless (an empty shell compared to the once vibrant and snarky drew from before).

the walk to the beach is silent, although you know that you’re being followed — you didn’t survive the war being complacent. when you finally do arrive, the mysterious figure reveals himself in the moonlight (again, you’d be a fool to not recognize the son of poseidon’s careful footsteps).

percy looks every bit of a character straight out of a tragic romance novel that your mother probably inspired, and again your heart squeezes painfully at the sight of him — under the scars and the jaded attitude, he is still the same percy jackson with stars in his eyes when he first introduced you to his mother. 

“why do the naiads call you that?” percy asks abruptly, tilting his head to the side as if studying you as he approaches.

barely audible accusations of apatu’ria bubble at the surface of the lake like seafoam; the whispers have followed you since you arrived at camp, and you have never known why.

“call me what?” you ask, feigning ignorance as iterations of deceitful replay across your mind.

percy blinks, confused, “isn’t your mother related to the sea somehow? don’t you know they call you apatu’ria?”

you fiddle with the gold bracelet on your wrist (a gift from selina), percy’s gaze follows the movement as you hesitate. “well, yeah, like i know what it means but i don’t know why they call me that.”

percy shrugged, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “they call me ‘prosklystios’ a lot,” he said (in the way that he knows you, better than you know yourself).  

“so what, we’re just reduced to epithets of our parents? what an honor,” you mumbled sarcastically, staring out at the lake, watching its surface ripple as the accusations grew more fervent. you paid it no mind however, the burden of being a daughter of aphrodite had already claimed its weight on your shoulders. 

“careful,” percy sighed, his gaze focusing on you instead of the water, “might’ve just won a war but that won’t stop either of us from being smited if big guy in the sky thinks we’re being impertinent.”

distant thunder rumbled overhead as if proving his point.

“speak for yourself, pretty boy,” you say, eyes looking toward the firmament littered with stars, incognizant of your admission, “if i got the gods to basically pay child support without being sent to tartarus, i would do whatever the fuck i wanted.”

percy being percy, of course, did not register that last bit of your sentence, a shit-eating grin forming across his face, a slight red hue tinging his cheeks, “you think i’m pretty.”

you turn to look at him, ignoring how your heart hammers at the way he’s smiling down at you, you roll your eyes. “percy,” you say slowly. “my mom is the goddess of love, everyone’s gorgeous in her eyes.”

“yeah, but not everyone’s gorgeous in your eyes.” 

gods, he was so aggravating but the way his eyes twinkled and the genuine elation on his face almost made you admit defeat. 

you crossed your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him, “this is why i never compliment you, you always let it go to your head.”

“aw, c’mon, you love me for it though,” percy says, still grinning widely, his unruly black hair falling into place perfectly.

“you’re an actual attention-whore,” you say, spinning around on your heels and trekking across the sand, leaving percy alone to stare out at the water. you walk back to camp, ignoring percy’s calls of wait punctuated by his laughter as he jogs up behind you. 

“i hope mr. d catches you out past curfew and the harpies eat you,” you say deadpan, once percy has caught up to you. 

“you’d miss me too much and would come to be my hero, again,” percy smirks at you, following along as you head toward aphrodite cabin (you’re secretly very glad for his presence, you hate walking around camp when it’s this deserted — the memories that you tried so desperately to bury try to claw their way to the surface).

“just because i caught a knife for you, once, does not mean that i’ll ever do it again,” you say, folding your arms across your chest as you stand outside the door of your cabin. “getting stabbed is not a ten out of ten experience.”

percy softens, his impish grin still there, but the intensity of his gaze is enough to make you melt, “good, can’t have you dying on me.”

you snorted, “even if i did die, i’d tell nico to raise my ghost so i could haunt you forever.”

percy’s still smiling, his eyes are still soft, and he’s so close to you right now. “go out with me,” he says, suddenly, earnestly.

blood rushes to your ears. “what?” you blinked, staring at him as if he’d grown another head.

percy shrugged, leaning forward to press a feather-light kiss to the crown of your head. you barely registered the action in your mind, trying to regain your ability to form coherent sentences as you watched him. percy looked away from your questioning gaze. “better go before the harpies eat me,” he said before jogging in the direction of his cabin. 

he leaves you standing in front of your cabin door, frozen in shock for another five minutes, before you shake it off, and head inside, convincing yourself that you had imagined the entire encounter. the familiar scent of jasmine envelops you as you linger in the doorway. drew is still awake on her bed, her back pressed against the wall and her head in her arms. she doesn’t bother to look up at your entry until you’re sat next to her, curling an arm around her bony shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. 

the two of you sit in silence as drew attempts to calm her heartbeats to sync with yours, her head resting on your shoulder as you rub soothing circles into the planes of her shoulder. you fall asleep in a tangled mess of limbs, a desperate attempt to close the gaping hole selina left in her wake. this is sisterhood, you think when you wake up and drew’s head weighs like lead on your shoulder.

the bright morning does little to assuage your burdens — you know it’s going to be a long day as soon as you hear campers giggling. rule number one of being a camp counselor: no matter how benign, giggling is the number one sign of trouble.

you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before turning to the younger half of your half-siblings currently in the process of attempting arts and crafts. “what the fuck do you guys keep giggling about?”

your half-siblings only giggle harder. 

after what seemed like eons, the new camper finally comes up to you — a kid no older than eight, who motions for you to bend down before they begin stage-whispering in your ear, “is percy jackson your boyfriend?”

you immediately feel scandalized, jerking away like you’ve been burned, “no, who said that?”

(when you’re being lulled to sleep by the sound of drew’s imperceptible snoring in your ear, your subconscious spends its time lingering, dwelling on could’ve been’s, and should’ve been’s, the obsession as stubborn as when you refused to believe that percy had actually died on mount st helens.)

the kid continues to smile ‘innocently’, “everyone says that you guys hold hands at campfires.”

sudden flashes of percy’s unyielding grip on your hand and his broad smile, as he forced you into a sing-a-long with him, rise to the forefront of your mind, but that was before — when annabeth still had a steely look in her eyes, when travis and connor’s antics still garnered laughs from everyone (and a rare amused glance from mr. d). now (the after), there is no such jocularity, and percy is kept at arm’s length, reduced to offering you sad smiles across the campfire.

“we do not hold hands at campfires,” you say, struggling to keep the disdain out of your voice.

“but there’s a ‘we’,” the kid says, scrutinizing you up and down.

you have to mentally count to three so that you don’t end up arguing with a literal child (it’s not a great way to prove that your sanctity is still intact). “there’s no we.”

the kid shrugs in an if you say so gesture, giving you one last weirdly knowing look before turning back to their arts and crafts. a weighty silence settles, punctuated only by the sounds of scissors and rustling papers. 

stares and loud whispers follow you around camp, more so than usual for an aphrodite kid — clarisse finds you in the midst of it all, lost in thought when her cabin is supposed to be pulverizing apollo cabin at volleyball, a sharp glint in her eye. 

“you’d tell if me you were dating prissy, right?” she says, her hand faintly closing around your elbow, pulling you out of your reverie. 

“what are you talking about?” you say, eyebrows raising in shock. this wasn’t your first rodeo — just before the war this summer, camp gossip had credited you to be going out with connor stoll, but this was different. clarisse was the fifth person today who had asked you if you were dating percy. 

“so you are dating him?” clarisse looks offended, or well, as offended as clarisse can be, “and you didn’t tell me.”

you can feel eyes on you, watching your every move as other campers subtly pause their activities to listen in. 

“clarisse,” you say slowly, reaching out to hold her forearms and looking her in the eye, “i’m not dating percy.” when she opens her mouth to interrupt, you add, “and i would definitely tell you if i was.”

clarisse exhales, shooting you a disbelieving look, but mercifully leaving you alone with a quiet, “okay.”

you know what she’s thinking, so you offer her a taut smile, patting her on her shoulder as you brush past her. you headed toward the lake, with a feeling that you’d find the answers you were searching for.

the lake is empty except for one solitary figure on the sand, facing the horizon with his hands in his pockets. you hang back for a minute or two, taking in the sight of percy with his eyes closed, and the peaceful look on his face. 

a grin settled across his face as he addressed you, his eyes still closed, “i know you think i’m pretty, you don’t have to stare to prove it.”

you ignored his words, and he opened his eyes to watch you angrily march across the sand to stand face to face with him. 

“are you the reason why everyone thinks we’re seeing each other?”

“yeah, why?”

to say that you’re taken aback is an understatement — you had anticipated some more denial but this was unexpected. and sudden.  

you jab a finger at his chest, “everyone’s getting the wrong idea, so you need to stop whatever it is you’re doing like right now.”

“but they could have the right idea,” percy says, looking amused.

your heart scrapes painfully against your chest, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“we could be dating, for real,” percy says, excruciatingly slow, elongating each word. 

the earth stops spinning on its axis for a minute, and time seems to freeze — for a split second you worry kronos has risen again before you calm your racing heartbeat and exhale slowly.

“i need you to be so for real right now,” you say, your eyebrows furrowing.

“i’m being so deadass right now.” 

“no, you’re not,” you say, turning and walking away. your heart squeezes pitifully in your chest, as you call out, “find me when you stop joking,” before leaving him alone on the shore.

when percy approaches you again, you think he’s finally come back to his senses, though a weaker, more primitive urge inside you hopes that he hasn’t (it’s for the better, you try and fail to convince yourself).

he interrupts your conversation with drew (though the two of you weren’t doing much talking), smiling charmingly at her before asking if he could steal you away for a minute during breakfast. drew shot you a concerned look, waiting for your reassuring smile before assenting.

“you’ve come to your senses?” you ask after percy leads you away from the mess hall.

“i’ve always had my senses, thank you very much,” percy grins.

you roll your eyes, trying not to smile, “oh yeah, i could totally tell when you played rock, paper, scissors with a hundred-handed one last summer.”

“hey,” percy says, throwing his hands up in the air defensively, “i won that one.”

“on a gamble,” you countered, smiling (you missed this, missed him, and the feeling that everything will be alright enduring).

“not the point.”

“then what is?”

“go out with me,” he repeats, sudden, and earnest.

your heart stuttered pitifully. “not this again,” you sighed.

“why not?” 

“why?”

“you know why,” percy tries to make eye contact with you. still, you avoid his gaze, watching the other campers heading into the mess hall give the two of you weird looks. 

“no, i don’t,” you say firmly, before walking away, ignoring his protests, leaving behind a group of onlookers that you could care less about, and percy, who was staring at the spot you had just been standing in.

you returned to your cabin, to the familiar jasmine scent and pearl adornments, and promptly collapsed on your bed. more than anything, you just wanted your mother. you wanted your mother to smooth out your hair as you cried, offer you advice, and get rid of the stupid curse.

the door opens quietly and you immediately sit up, dabbing at your face and hoping that your eyes haven’t turned red and swollen already. drew shut the door gently behind her, her expression softening the slightest fraction at the sight of you.

“do i look that bad?” you ask, trying not to sniffle (and failing miserably).

a whirlwind of emotions cross drew’s face and you manage a watery grin. “okay, y’know what, don’t tell me then.”

drew sits next to you on the bed, handing you a box of tissues, “wasn’t planning to.” 

the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder as she lets you have a minute to clean up before going straight for the jugular. “i heard what happened.”

you laughed, a choking noise that dissolved into weak coughing. drew patted your back. “so, the entire camp knows now?”

“no,” she says, before changing her mind, “well, yeah.” 

“great,” you groaned, “my life is so over.”

drew tensed, tearing her gaze from the posters of hot people on the wall, to look at you, her brown eyes ablaze with fury and her silver earrings (also a gift from silena) jangle, “shut up, you’re the senior counselor of aphrodite cabin, and they’re all losers unworthy of your time. your life so isn’t over.”

(this is the drew from before, the drew that comes and goes in flashes so sudden that you try to piece her together like a puzzle that never seems to connect.)

“the curse,” you say, your throat tight. 

drew’s eyes widen imperceptibly, her blue eyeshadow sparkling in the candlelit cabin, before her expression settles into a scowl. “what about the gift?” her voice sharpens as she stresses the last word, sparing the smallest glance toward the roof of the cabin.

you can’t continue, and you don’t have to — she knows what it is that you’re thinking of (she always has, from the minute you met her, two cold and shaking children alone in the dark).

she shakes her head emphatically. “silena,” her voice chokes, before dropping to a whisper, “silena left us — you can’t leave us too.”

“i know,” you whisper back, your eyes filling with tears. “i know.”

“oh, honey,” drew says sympathetically, drawing you into her arms, and smoothing your hair away from your face as you let out a sob against her shoulder. “break his heart,” she says. 

“i can’t,” you mumble.

“you have to. he’ll die if you don’t, and a broken heart is better than dying.”

“i can’t do that to him, he’s so unbelievably good, drew, he deserves everything and more.”

“ignoring how ridiculously sappy that sounded, look at what happened to beckendorf,” you pretend not to notice how drew stumbles through his name (he looked at silena as if she had personally hung the stars in the night sky), “maybe he wouldn’t have gotten over it, but he would’ve been alive.”

you remember how silena had proudly said she was going to put an end to the archaic rite of passage your cabin was infamous for around camp; beautiful, idealistic silena with stars in her eyes (who liked beckendorf to the point she’d blush profusely at the mention of his name), who had no idea that this would all come crashing down around her some short months later. 

at your silence, drew continues, still stroking your hair, “look, not to make this harder, but even i’ll admit jackson’s one of those guys you meet once in a lifetime—”

“thanks, drew, that was really helpful,” you interrupt, chuckling dryly.

“oh, shut up, i had a point,” drew says, swatting your shoulder playfully.

you sigh, letting her continue.

“so, like i was saying before i was so rudely interrupted, because jackson’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime type of guys—” here, you coughed pointedly, making drew glare at you before continuing, “—you should be like more willing to see him happy and like living a long ass life because you’re so in love with him.”

“so what, either i reject him and ruin our friendship irreversibly or we date and i break his heart and ruin our friendship irreversibly, or we date and i don’t break his heart and he dies tragically and there’s a possibility that i die tragically too?”

drew shrugged, making a tiny braid in your hair, “pretty much.”

you turned your head in her lap to look her in the eye, “how are you so apathetic about this?”

“someone has to be because you’re not thinking this through rationally.”

you groaned, “aphrodite has to hate us.” (you haven’t called her ‘mom’ genuinely except to her face during the winter solstices.)

“no, she lives for this kind of thing,” drew rolled her eyes, braiding another piece of your hair, “she definitely thinks she’s doing us a favor.”

you groaned again, “what if i just avoid him until summer ends and he goes back to school and forgets this happened.”

“i didn’t think love made you this stupid,” drew says, amused.

“shut up, i can’t wait until you have the same dilemma, and you’re the one asking for advice.”

“doubt it,” drew says, wryly.

you rolled your eyes, “okay, but what if i tell him about the ‘gift’,” you make air-quotes, “and let him decide?”

“yeah, but what if that just makes it backfire and makes you die tragically either way.”

“well, at least he’ll know about the possibility? it’s better than just being like ‘oh i can’t date you even though i’ve liked you since i was twelve’ with like zero explanation whatsoever.”

you hear muffled footsteps coming from outside of the cabin, and the door swings open loudly to admit lacy, who looks flustered and out of breath. you and drew quickly sprang up off your bed at her arrival.

“your boyfriend’s asking for you,” she says, looking at you.

drew raises her eyebrows at you, an unspoken are you going to see him? behind it. 

you furrowed your eyebrows back at her, conveying no, shut up.

drew shrugged at you as if saying if you say so.

lacy looks between the two of you, confusion apparent before cautiously interrupting, “he’s waiting outside, by the way.”

you panicked at the thought of possibly confronting percy, “lacy, whatever you do, don’t tell him i’m in here.” you paused, “wait, tell him i’m taking a nap or something, please.”

more shuffling noises can be heard from outside, and drew groans, smacking her forehead with her palm, “what is wrong with you?”

you ignored her, focusing on lacy, whose confusion intensified as she looked between the two of you. “tell him i’m sleeping and he should try coming back later.”

she nodded, before opening the door and stepping outside.

drew stared at you, “y’know, i thought people were exaggerating when they said love makes you stupid but after looking at you, they were so right.”

you scowled at drew. she raised her arms in surrender, “just calling it like i see it.”

lacy returned a second later, “um, he wasn’t outside when i went to tell him.”

that was decidedly odd, but you chalked it up to him being busy or something, and shrugged, “i’ll see him later, it’s fine.”

it was actually not fine, because you didn’t see him later. or the next day. or the day after. well, you saw him but you didn’t see him. percy had somehow uncovered a hidden talent for making himself appear everywhere and nowhere all at once. he was there at meals, laughing with tyson or grover, he was at sword fighting practices, leading the class or giving clarisse a partner, he was at campfires, sitting next to annabeth and connor. yet, the minute you tried to approach him, it was almost as if he’d vanish, like an immortal was running interference.

you’ve taken to wandering by the lake on most nights — your only company the voices of silena (go talk to him, her urging is as present as if she was really there, memories of the time the two of you hadn’t been talking for a week resurging) and luke (what’re you doing out this late, kid? a phantom hand reaching out to ruffle your hair, and the feeling of ice being poured down your back envelops you). 

as the sun sets, the tall and lanky figure — a figure you could recognize on the darkest nights — stands overlooking the lake in true jay gatsby fashion, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. you stop and stare for a second (maybe a minute, an hour, time has truly escaped you), and suddenly you’re small and shivering in the dark again. 

percy doesn’t look at you when you approach, though he fidgets with his camp necklace. 

“hi,” you say, unsure of where to begin. 

percy sighs, “look, if you’re here to ask for space, i get it, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other day.” he doesn’t turn to look at you or even glance at you through the corner of his eye once. 

“what?” you ask. “what are you talking about?”

“trust me, i get it, you don’t have to try to spare my feelings,” percy says. you want to will him to spare you just a glance. still, he avoids your gaze, focused on the horizon before you. “we’ve been friends for so long, i thought you could be honest with me.”

his words, though not said harshly (percy isn’t capable of being harsh, not to you at least) cut through you like a knife. 

“you heard me when i was talking to lacy, then,” you say, with horror as the realization dawns on you slowly.

percy finally looks at you, and the sheer hurt in his iridescent eyes makes you inhale sharply. a lump forms in your throat.

“i did,” he confirms quietly. “why didn’t you say something earlier?”

fighting in a war hadn’t prepared you for man��s greatest folly, something that you, arguably, should’ve been good at. the lump in your throat is difficult to dislodge, yet percy is patient as you swallow uncomfortably.

“i never meant it like that.”

percy’s eyes flash, and you feel sick to your stomach. “have you ever wondered why so many of the other cabins hate us?”

his previously pained expression morphed into a look of confusion. you continued, “in aphrodite cabin, our rite of passage is to break your first love’s heart. silena—” your voice breaks. “—silena tried to put an end to it, and then both she and beckendorf—” you choke up again, and percy’s expression becomes solemn, “died tragically. we didn’t know the consequences of not doing it were real until then, and we realized it was a curse.”

you watch percy seemingly wrestle with his thoughts, taking a step toward you. 

“why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” there is no judgment in his voice, yet you still feel embarrassment pooling in your stomach.

“can you honestly tell me that you’re okay with this? with the gods dictating another aspect of your life?” (somewhere in the back of your mind, you can hear luke’s voice repeating the same sentence.)

“you didn’t ask for this either.”

“it’s not our job to question them,” you say, trying not to let a tear slip.

“maybe we should,” percy says, still looking straight at you. 

“careful,” you say, as thunder rumbled distantly overhead, “this is what luke was saying.”

“i don’t care,” percy says, “if you or i die a tragic death, we’ll just have to go through tartarus.”

he said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that your breath catches in your throat.

“so, you’re okay with this?” you ask, trying to suppress the tinge of hopefulness in your voice.

percy looked at you in disbelief, his face was so earnest, “why wouldn’t i be?”

you laughed, more out of shock than anything else. percy continued, “i think your mother would think we’d make a cute couple, so maybe she won’t curse us with a tragic end.”

you’re grinning now, tears forgotten, “more like she’ll give us a tragic end because she likes us.”

percy shrugged, “i think we’ll be fine as long as we’re together.”

he kissed you, finally, which was long over-due, and you felt like everything was finally falling into place. 

“took you guys long enough.” 

you turned around to find the source of the interruption, making eye-contact with clarisse, her arms folded and a smug expression on her face. beside her stands most of your friends, all adorning matching wicked expressions. your heart stops beating for a second before your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“how much of that did you guys hear?” percy asked, suddenly looking bashful.

“most of it,” drew replied with a smirk.

percy looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face as your friends surrounded the both of you, hoisting you on their shoulders.

“maybe the two of you need to cool off,” annabeth said with a laugh.

connor grinned at her, before calling out, “dump them in the lake!”

you groaned, begging, “annabeth, please.”

“this is payback for all the pining i had to witness over the years,” she said with another bright laugh.

percy shrugged at you, a grin on his face as if saying accept your fate. you gave in, shaking your head as you laughed at their antics.

[ruewrote]

𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.

PAIRING: stiles stilinski x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: teenage dream by katy perry WORD COUNT: 1.2k

navigation | ask | stiles stilinski masterlist

it wasn't out of the blue for you and stiles to have a sleepover on fridays, actually it was a sort of unspoken rule between the two of you.

it first started when you said that you had never watched star wars before, which led to the both of you sitting on your couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between.

him explaining the little parts you'd get confused about or him just ranting about his favourite scenes. after that it was a back and forth of showing each other your favourite unseen movies.

when finishing said movie the following days you'd receive multiple memes from him about the specific films, it had become a recurring pattern that you'd come to love. it almost felt weird if he didn't.

tonight it was your turn to introduce him to the to all the boys i loved before trilogy since you'd been obsessed with the movies since they first came out.

he was on the fence about watching them since he wasn't a huge fan of romcoms, you somehow convinced him by saying "it's practice for watching them with your future girlfriend!" internally wincing at that.

every friday you felt more anxious before stiles showed, trying to fluff up your pillows and straighten out your blankets. wanting to make everything perfect.

you had a huge crush on stiles, how could you not after spending so much time together, learning all of his little quirks, his likes and his dislikes, the only thing you weren't sure about was the way he felt about you.

it was the one thing you wanted to know the most about him. did he think about you the same ways you thought about him? did he like the way cuddled when you'd watch these movies and shows with him?

you couldn't tell him though, what if he didn't feel the same way you did and it completely ruins the good friendship you have right now?

what would it take for you to finally tell him?

ding dong!

the doorbell ringing a couple times had you jogging down the stairs, opening the door with a warm smile to see hyper stiles.

"i'm so ready to get my movie night on! i had a math test today and let me tell you it sucked," he whines as he dramatically wraps his arms around your waist as he fake cries into your shoulder.

"well if it helps i have enough microwaveable popcorn to keep us going through the apocalypse soo you coming upstairs or what?"

with that said he zips past you up your stairs, falling up them in the process, making you giggle at his eagerness as you follow close behind him.

watching stiles practically swan dive onto your bed and aggressively sniff your pillow has you side eyeing him, "why is your bed so much comfier and smells so much nicer than mine? it's so not fair."

"it's a little thing called fabric softener and if you continuously jump into your bed the way you do mine, then i guess you've got your answer you dufus," you laugh at him burrowing himself deep under your duvet.

"plus i've slept in your bed it's plenty comfy, the key is lots of pillows and fluffy blankets." he hums as you settle yourself beside him before pressing play on the movie.

it was like ten minutes into the film when you could feel him slightly shuffle closer to you, keeping your eyes on the screen pretending it didn't happen. just patiently waiting until he felt comfortable enough to say something.

"can...can we cuddle?" you wordlessly lifted your arm, letting him slip himself under, his head on your chest, the rest of his body lightly pressed to your side.

it was like second nature to you two, whether either one of you had a bad week you'd take turns holding each other. you helped install healthy mannerisms that proved that it was okay for a man to be held because they deserve it too and that it was okay for guys to cry no matter who they're with.

so yes , when he had a rough day he'd often walk up to you and bury his face into your neck, his arms firmly wrapped around you as you cupped the back of his head and rubbed soft circles on his back just letting him know that you were there for him.

with everything he had gone through he deserved all the comfort he could get and if the source was you then so be it.

you would be lying if you said that your heart didn't speed up at the closeness and how his touch on your skin left goosebumps.

trying to be as casual as possible, you raise the hand that was currently wrapped around his shoulders to gently stroke his hair, feeling him physically melt into you calmed your nerves.

feeling your eyelids slowly droop, your hand movements become slower so your palm now laid on the back of his neck, fighting sleep felt so difficult when he was beside you. his presence was so peaceful, comforting even without him saying anything.

the early start of your day hitting even harder now. He won't mind if you rested your eyes for a little bit, right?

stiles noticed the similarities between the two characters to the both of you, but there's no way that you deliberately put this on as a sign? was he reading too deep into it?

when he went to question you about it, lifting his head he was met with you sleeping peacefully. his gaze softened at the sight, gently tucking the piece of hair that fell in front of your face.

"you are so goddamn beautiful and don't even know it, even when you sleep? like can you save some beauty for the rest of us?" he chuckles at his own joke.

"i don't know how long i can keep pretending that i'm not totally in love with you...there really isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you." he whispers and he studies your features.

"it's honestly crazy how i feel your absence in everything that i do when i'm alone, in every place i go without you." he sighs, going to go back to watching the tv.

"you really mean all of that?" you whisper, making him jump back.

"uh- i-i do, but i thought you were asleep?"

"no i was just resting my eyes, but i'm sorta glad that you thought i was for you to finally confess your feelings for me." you smirk at him.

his mouth opens and closes, utterly bewildered at what you just said, "what do you mean finally?"

"You realise that i like you too, right? that i have for the longest time?" stiles eyes now wide, looking even more lost than before.

"you like me? like like me like me?"

sitting up, grasping the back of his neck, "what are you..." pulling him closer, your lips brushing against his. it takes him a second to register the kiss before melting into it. leaning closer to deepen the kiss. his hands brushing over your hips as he laid you down, now hovering over you. your hand running through his hair, tugging at the roots.

you're both now smiling as you share a few more pecks before pulling away. "so you do like me!" he grins, "oh my god. dude yes!"

"ya know if you're gonna be my girlfriend, you're gonna have to calling me dude."

"would you prefer shnookums?"

"that's it!" he pulled away just enough to tickle you.

from that night forth you and stiles had become inseparable, practically connected at the hip. but you wouldn't want it any other way.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[sunshine-on-marz]

Bad and better days

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

In which reader is stressed and Hotch is a gift giver.

Lots and lots of fluffy fluf (I’ll proofread later)

Very much inspired by @mariasont s ABSOLUTELY AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL bimbo assistant series that i literally can’t get enough of. If you even remotely enjoy this fic go read hers” series, and if you don’t like this fic, go read her other stuff. It’s worth it I promise!!!

“Sir!” You were practically a blur of pink as you run up to him, well, run as much as you can in your heels.

“Y/N, hi, what on earth could be this worrying-“ he checks his watch “-two minutes before the work day starts” he chuckles softly, an occurrence that seems to become less and less uncommon when you’re around.

“Well, sir, I was filing papers and I got a call- well you got a call which means I got a call which means I walked away from papers and when I stood up they fell on the floor and they’re time sensitive and-“ he cuts you off with gentle hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N do you need me to help you reorganize paperwork?” He asks, smiling softly at your frantic nodding. “Alright, lead the way, slower this time maybe?” He jokes, you laugh, he does his best to memorize the sound (not that he doesn’t already know it by heart). “Yes sir” you nod, turning to walk back to his office. And it really was just one file you’d knocked off the desk, but it wasn’t case paperwork that you could’ve easily picked up and reorganized, it was paperwork for Strauss, detailing a week worth of work in the bureau, along with staff ratings and a couple legal documents.

“I hope you know that this is not at all an inconvenience to me, we all make mistakes, if the biggest slip up this week is an unorganized file, I think we’d have to throw a party” he says, laughing softly, you do the same, the tension falling from your shoulders. “Yea, well, I was nervous to greet you with a screw up” you say, he puts down the papers to look at you.

“Y/N, you’re an amazing assistant, you’re great at your job and the million other things you do far outside of your obligations, this office wouldn’t function without you, I wouldn’t function without you, this-“ he taps the folder “-doesn’t even register as a screw up. Having to turn around the jet last week because Morgan forgot his phone? That was a screw up. JJ emailing a random cop witness statements from an unrelated case? That’s a screw up. You dropping a file? That’s not even a minor inconvenience. You’re alright.” His voice goes back to his normal tone at the end, but the gentleness is still very much there. He’d taken note of your stress the last few days. You’d clearly overworked yourself, something he knew would happen eventually. He was worried.

“Thank you, sir” you say softly.

“Aaron” he corrects. You must’ve looked like he asked you the square root of 43,862.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, your head dipping to the side

“Well I told you on your first day to call me Hotch, and you haven’t, so I’m seeing if telling you to call me Aaron will get you to tone down the formality.” He smiles. You laugh. He smiles harder.

“So should I call you Aaron or Hotch?” You ask, he shrugs.

“You can decide” his voice is even, but he can’t quite calm the grin still plastered to his lips.

“Alright, Aaron” you say, you feel like you broke some unspoken rule, but Hotch? He understands why sailors abandoned ship for sirens. He wants nothing more in that moment than to hear you say his name again.

But he just nods, going back to reorganizing papers. You pipe up with a question “should I go see if JJ has a case yet?”

“No, not yet, the work day started a few minutes ago, no need to rush her” he says, you nod.

“Should I-“ he cuts you off by putting his credit card down on the table. “You should go online and look for office supplies” he says, and once again, you look at him like a confused puppy.

“I talked to Strauss, we agreed that you do far too much around here to not have an office. It’s by no means extravagant, but I talked her into giving you the empty office” he says. You know exactly what he’s talking about, and it’s really not extravagant, it’s probably a little bit smaller than Penelope’s lair, but it’s right next to Hotch’s office and it’s big enough for a desk and a filing cabinet. You’re ecstatic.

“Really?!” You squeal, practically bouncing with excitement. “Really” he nods. You hug him, it’s awkward, you’re bent over to hug him while he sits. You don’t really mind, but Hotch wants to acknowledge your affection, so he stands and hugs you back. Wrapping his arms around you and gently rubbing your back. As you pull away you smile up at him.

“Thank you so much Aaron” you smile, he just nods to the card. “You’re very welcome, and get whatever you want for the office, don’t worry about the cost” he says, your eyes go wide.

“Oh no- I can’t. Really. I’d feel awful and-“ he cuts you off again.

“I mean it. Whatever. You. Want.” He says sweetly, but you protest again.

“I really can’t. I couldn’t.” You say, he nods “alright, send me what you like, if it’s not too much I’ll get it, then you can buy the rest, would that work?” He offers, you shake your head

“I can’t take your money-“ he once again, stops you. “It’s my final offer. I buy it all or I buy some. I want to do this for you” he says, you blush, he takes note. You nod.

“I’ll- uh- I’ll send you what I like” you say. He nods “good, you can start looking now if you’d like, I have to go talk to Rossi.” He says “don’t worry about anything else until we debrief alright? You’re officially on break.” He says, you nod. “Thank you. So much. For all of this” your sentence comes out in parts, like you’re building it once it’s already left your mouth. Hotch smiles. “Rest for a bit Y/N, you’ve more than earned it” he says as he leaves the office.

You have a nice, 20 minute break before the debrief. You get right back to business as usual, only adding in excited rambling on the jet too Spencer about how you plan to decorate your office, Hotch listened with a smile.

“Are you planning to eavesdrop on that poor girl the whole flight? Or are you just really interested in colored gel pens” Emily asks, tone teasing and sarcastic. Hotch rolls his eyes. “I have interests” he says, Emily grins. “Yea, you’re definitely interested in something” she says, Hotch laughs softly. “Maybe” he admits.

He knew that maybe was a definitely, so did Emily, but neither of them mention it. She drops the topic and he goes right back to listening in on you and Spencer.

The case goes by quickly. A less than 72 hour turn around. Hotch sends everyone home early when you get back. A small congratulations for a successful case. You, as always, stay behind when he does.

“Y/N, go home and rest” he says, you shake your head

“I’m fine to stay” you assure him, he won’t have it “you’ve been tired and stressed. Go home, rest, and come back tomorrow feeling a little better. That’s what I need from you.” He says it like an order, you honestly feel like you’ll get fired if you don’t go have a spa day. So you just nod. “Yes sir” you nod, putting down the files you were holding.

“Have a good night, Y/N” he says as you leave. “You too Aaron, head home at a good time, I’m sure Jack misses you”. He assures you he will. You nod and leave.

An hour later, you’re home, watching bad tv and eating take out, which absolutely counts as self care, when you get a text.

Hotch!: “Jack wanted me to tell you he says hi.”

You laugh and text back

-> “Awww!! Tell him I say hi back!!”

You don’t wait long for a response.

Hotch!: “He’s very excited to hear from you. Have you picked anything for your office?”

You smile

-> “I’ll have to babysit again sometime!!! And yes, here🙄 (but 4real, thank you so so so so much for paying. Absolutely don’t worry about anything thatz 2 expensive!!)” you text back, including an Amazon wishlist

The next day is normal. Completely average. No cases, no major drama. Just paperwork, random ramblings to Hotch about whatever is on your mind and gossip sessions in the bullpen. Good, but average.

Then the next day comes. And you squealed so loud that Derek thought he’d be on rat catching duty again. But nope, much better, you walked into Hotch’s office and were greeted with Amazon package after Amazon package.

Hotch smiled “I figured you’d be picky about how the office is set up, but I did come in early and set up your desk and filing cabinet.” You hugged him and probably thanked him a dozen times, excitedly rushing to Penelope’s office to get a decorating buddy.

He’d never admit this to you, but he confides in Rossi later that day that he never approved your office with Strauss, but he knew how happy it would make you, and he knew he wanted to be the reason you were that happy. He’d argue with his boss a million times to make you smile.

Your day was obviously above average, but Hotch’s was wonderful, just because he got to spend it watching you run back and forth with the biggest smile on your face. He knew he wanted you before, but now? God, he wanted to spend forever making you smile like that.

I pulled an all nighter and spent 2 hours in a haze writing this. I hope you like it!!!

Click here for more of my work

Please remember to reblog with feedback!!! It helps writers a lot and is how my work reaches more people!

[azzibuckets]

them kissing at the top of the ferris wheel i BEG. and maybe throw in some angst if u feel like it, adding flashbacks to them doing this every year even when they were just “friends” or the line between friends and something else…?

state of us

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: i wrote this in one setting omfg so this is very unedited but i hope you guys love this just as much as i do!!! enjoy :)

word count: 2.6k

masterlist

August 2017

Azzi has always looked forward to the state fair; it’s one of the few times a year she gets to see her extended family in Minnesota and gorge herself on cookies and corn dogs and all the likes. But something about this year is special, and Azzi would be lying if she said it wasn’t due to the blonde girl whose hand she’s currently holding.

“I still can’t believe I’ve lived in Minnesota my entire life and I’ve never been here,” Paige marvels, jaw slightly dropped in awe as she takes in her surroundings. Azzi is usually like Paige, letting herself get lost in the exhilarating combination of the smell of greasy, buttery foods and the cheery sound of lively music and the smiles on everyone’s faces, but for some reason this year she’s fully and entirely captivated by Paige.

“It’s like the one time of year my parents let us eat whatever we want,” Azzi informs her friend, nodding towards her little brothers who are stuffing themselves with cotton candy. Her and Paige both look at each other and share a giggle before quickly averting their eyes. It’s a novel feeling, the butterflies in Azzi’s belly that erupt every time she holds Paige’s gaze for a little too long. It’s the same feeling she gets when their knuckles brush, or when Paige is being annoying and insists on putting her head in Azzi’s lap whenever they’re lying on the couch. And it’s a scary feeling, so far from what she feels towards all of her other friends, but it’s one that makes her lightheaded and dizzy in the best way possible, a feeling she desperately chases after.

Even now, Azzi tightens her fingers around Paige’s. Her palm is starting to collect sweat, but she prays to the gods that Paige won’t notice. She’s not ready to let go just yet.

Azzi clears her throat. They’ve been silent for a little too long, and the air between them is tense. “I buy a huge bucket of cookies every year,” she continues. “Maybe if you’re nice to me today I’ll let you have some.”

Paige scrunchs her eyebrow in feigned indignation. “I’m always nice to you.”

“Well I guess you gotta be especially nice today.” Then Azzi lets go of her hand, throwing Paige a wink over her shoulder before running to catch up with the rest of their family. Paige doesn’t have enough time to figure out what Azzi’s words mean before Katie starts calling for her too.

They’re in line for the ring toss when Jose pokes Paige hard in the back. The blonde whips around, ready to jokingly give the 11 year old a piece of her mind. But before she can even get a word out, Jose says, “That guy in the very back of the line wants me to tell you that he thinks you’re cute,” then skips away to find Jon.

Paige is confused. She glances towards the huddle of teenage boys 50 feet away and sees one of them, a lanky boy with a mop of unruly brown hair, give her a smirk. Cheeks hot, she turns back to Azzi. “Um,” she stutters, seemingly unable to find her bearings. The topic of boys has certainly come up in her and Azzi’s conversations before, but only when gossiping about their teammates or their friends. In the year she’s known Azzi, Paige hasn’t brought up a single of her own crushes, and neither has Azzi. It’s like an unspoken rule floating between them, a rule now irreparably broken by a boy too bold for his own good.

Azzi’s staring at the laces of her shoes. “You should go talk to him,” she says. She tries to keep her voice casual, calm, but she knows by the shift in Paige’s body language that it was too strained, too forced.

“Why?” Paige’s eyes are burning a hole into Azzi’s forehead. “I don’t even know him.”

Azzi shrugs, toes the dirt with the tip of her shoe. Her heart is beating erratically, and she doesn’t know why. “He thinks you’re cute.”

Paige takes another look at the boy. He is handsome, with striking blue eyes and dimples in his cheeks. But when she looks back at Azzi’s frowning face, she wishes it was her dimples that she could see and not his. “I don’t want to,” Paige says decisively, narrowing her eyes at the boy to show that she’s not interested.

Azzi’s head snaps up. “Why not?”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away. “I dunno. What if we hang out and he tries to steal my first kiss or something?“

Azzi’s body grows hot at the idea of imagining Paige’s first kiss. “Would that be so bad?”

“I want my first kiss to be special,” Paige responds. She takes in Azzi, who’s wearing a neon blue tank top and workout shorts. Her cheeks are a little flushed from the late summer heat. There’s a little curl of hair that escaped from her bun, damp from the humidity of the day. Paige wants to brush it behind Azzi’s ear. So she does. She leans forward and lets her thumb trail across Azzi’s cheek before swiping at the curl, moving it away from Azzi’s eyes. “I don’t wanna do the ring toss anymore,” she says.

Azzi swallows. “We could go on the ferris wheel?” she suggests timidly.

“Okay.”

And before she knows it, Paige’s hand is in Azzi’s again, the older girl letting the younger girl guide them through the maze of bodies. And although Azzi’s hand is a little bit damp and Paige has always hated sweaty hands, not for a single second does the thought of pulling away cross her mind.

Paige drops into the bench across Azzi’s, and the operator shuts the door behind them. The car rocks unsteadily, and Paige glances around nervously.

“It’s okay,” Azzi reassures. “These things are stronger than they look.”

“I hope so.”

Azzi cocks her head curiously. “Come sit with me.”

“Are you sure?” Paige asks tentatively. “What if it makes the car go off balance?”

With a roll of her eyes, Azzi gets up and plants herself next to the blonde. She rubs her hand across Paige’s back, noting the tenseness of her shoulders. “Are you scared right now?” Azzi snickers.

“No!” Paige says defensively. “I’ve just heard stories about fair rides.”

“I didn’t know you were a pussy.”

“Shut up,” Paige demands, but she finds herself leaning into Azzi’s touch. She blames it on her slight fear of heights, but deep down she knows it’s because she’ll never be able to get enough of Azzi.

“I didn’t like it,” Azzi confesses after a brief moment of silence. “Knowing you could’ve left me to hang out with some guy.”

“I would never leave you.” Paige’s eyes are bright in the falling light of the evening, and they hold a promise that Azzi doesn’t yet know will stay true for the rest of their lives. But for now, the soft way Paige is looking at her gives her the boldness to say, “I haven’t had my first kiss either.” She drops her hand from Paige’s back. “I’m too scared.”

“What’re you scared of?” Paige’s voice is barely a whisper.

“That I won’t like it. That they’ll be too rough. Or they’ll say I’m a bad kisser.”

“They?”

Azzi looks down.

“I like girls too.” The words take a second to register in Azzi’s brain, but when they do, she feels defensiveness rise in her chest. “I never said I liked girls,” Azzi said, her voice holding slight traces of panic.

Paige’s lips twist in a frown. “It’s not wrong to like girls.”

“I know, I just….”

“It’s my first time saying it out loud.” Paige cracks a smile. “If that makes you feel better.”

Azzi lets out a breathy laugh. “It’s just hard to tell, sometimes, ya know?”

“I know.” Paige worries her lower lip nervously. “But maybe I could help?”

Azzi’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Like…I could help you confirm whether or not you like girls?” Paige sounds uncertain. “And then…and then your first time wouldn’t have to be with some random asshole.”

Azzi stares at her best friend. She flips Paige’s words over in her brain, trying to make sense of it all. “You want me to kiss you?”

Paige looks flustered. “I don’t want you to. I mean, I don’t not want you to, I just-,” she closes her eyes briefly, taking her time to collect her thoughts. “I’m just offering to. You know? I wouldn’t mind. That way my first kiss can be with someone I trust too.”

Paige waits patiently for Azzi’s response. Her knee’s been jiggling against the hot metal of the bench, but the weight of Azzi’s hand from where she’s now placed it on her thigh quickly stops her movements.

Before her doubts can stop her, Azzi leans in, placing a hand firmly at the back of Paige’s neck. She presses her mouth to Paige’s, letting it linger there for a few seconds before pulling away. “There,” she says shakily. “Our first kiss.”

Paige stares at Azzi, dazed, both of them silent and still as the car slows to a stop, back at the bottom. Azzi realizes that she’s forgotten to take a picture of the sunset at the top like she’s done every year. She wonders what she’s gonna say when her mom asks about it later. Fear creeps into her heart as she realizes the gravity of what they’ve just done. It’s hard to make sense of the rapid beating of her heart, the fresh memory of Paige’s lips molded so perfectly against her own, with the growing panic in her chest that nothing will be the same ever again.

The operator opens the door. “You girls enjoy the ride?” he asks, a smile on his face.

Azzi climbs out in a rush, brushing past the operator without saying a word. Paige takes her time, picking up the water bottle that Azzi forgot and clutching it to her body. “Thanks,” she says tightly to the operator as she exits.

“No problem. Hope your friend feels better. The ferris wheel’s feeling a bit rockier than usually a lot today.”

It takes every bit of strength in Paige to not start crying right then and there.

August 2018

Paige has spent every day of the last year thinking about that kiss on the ferris wheel. And now that, almost exactly a year later, she’s in the car again, surrounded by the intoxicating scent of Azzi’s perfume, she can’t help but think about what Azzi’s hands would feel like tangled in her hair.

When Azzi looks up from her phone and meets Paige’s eyes, she knows there’s no use to try and wrangle any self control out of her body. Forcing herself to sit across from Paige instead of next to her this time doesn’t work. Within moments, she’s across the car, her hands on Paige’s waist. Her lips brush ever so gently against Paige, and she pauses, waiting for the blonde to stop her. When she doesn’t, Azzi swipes her tongue gently across Paige’s bottom lip, and this year their kiss lasts just a little bit longer.

August 2019

“I’m not gonna kiss you.”

Azzi has a date waiting for her at home, a handsome football player who she’s been texting all summer.

Paige looks at her coolly. “Okay.”

They’ve been tense all day. Their parents think it’s the heat wave combined with the stress of school starting. Paige wonders what her dad would say if he knew it was because she’s been thinking about the ferris wheel all day, a mix of dread and anticipation pooling in her stomach.

They’ve spent the entire ride sitting across from each other, their knees just barely touching. And kudos to them, they are better this year - they almost make it the entire ride.

But just 15 feet up from the ground, Azzi is on Paige’s lap, and she doesn’t know how she got there, but she’s not complaining, not when Paige is whimpering against her mouth like this.

They break apart when the operator opens the door, both of their chests heaving, neither of them daring to look at each other.

“This is the last time,” Azzi swears.

“The last time,” Paige repeats.

August 2020

Paige almost didn’t make it this year.

She should be at UConn right now, prepping for her first day of college in a few days. But one text from Azzi, one word saying Please, and she’d bought a plane ticket to Minnesota.

This time, Paige is the one to cross the boundary. This time, Paige fists Azzi’s shirt in her hand and pulls her into a searing kiss. Paige hasn’t said goodbye yet, but she hopes that the way she cups Azzi’s face in her hands and presses their lips together is enough.


Paige pulls away. She doesn’t know she’s crying until Azzi’s wiping at her tears with her thumb.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Azzi whispers.

They’ve spent almost half a year together, starting from when Paige moved in with the Fudds to train during lockdown. She’d stayed for most of the summer too, basically living in Azzi’s skin until her dad had forced her to return home.

“Come to UConn,” Paige urges.

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

Azzi leans her forehead against Paige’s. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

August 2021

“We’re gonna look so good on the court together.”

Azzi laughs, poking Paige’s cheek affectionately. “You’re insufferable. I’m gonna get so tired of you.”

“Oh yeah?” Paige presses a kiss to Azzi’s cheek, then begins working down her jawline, her lips burning into Azzi’s skin. “You’re gonna get tired of this?”

Azzi arches into Paige’s touch. “Paige,” she pants.

“Does this count as following our tradition?”

“You gotta kiss me on the mouth,” Azzi, always a stickler for rules, insists, but when Paige’s lips move downward to suck that sweet spot on her neck, she quickly shuts up.

August 2021

“I’m not letting you forget this time.” Paige nudges Azzi with her camera.

“Kiss me.”

Paige obeys.

They spend the rest of the ride arguing over who gets to keep the polaroid.

August 2022

Azzi kisses Paige. It’s short and sweet and all too reminiscent of 5 years ago, when they were young and dumb but still in love.

“Marry me?”

Azzi shoves Paige. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“I mean it. Don’t say it unless you have a ring.”

Paige’s eyes are hopeful. “So you’d marry me?”

“I’ve been willing to marry you since we met, you idiot.” Azzi kisses Paige again, and this time they’re smiling against each others lips.

August 2023

“I’m starting to think your NIL money is good for nothing.”

“Didn’t I just buy you a corn dog?”

“I still don’t see a ring.”

Paige rolls her eyes and shuts Azzi up with a kiss.

August 2024

“One more year, baby.”

“Stop reminding me.” Azzi turns away from Paige, her face pulled into a pout.

“It’s gonna be our year.” Paige nestles her chin onto Azzi’s shoulder. “Best backcourt duo in the nation.”

“Don’t jinx us.”

Paige wiggles her fingers into the younger girl’s ribs. “Stop being so negative.”

Azzi laughs, a beautiful sound Paige has memorized for years now. “Kiss me and maybe I’ll stop.”

Paige’s lips are familiar to Azzi. But Azzi wants more. She wants Paige, all of her. Paige needs to hurry up and buy that damn ring.

August 2025

Azzi: Missing you

Azzi: Attachment: 1 Image

Paige: screw this game

Paige: i swear i’m buying a plane ticket rn

Azzi: Stop, your team needs you

Azzi: Save me that kiss for later

Paige: i love u more than anything else in this world

Paige: so much more than basketball

Paige: i will literally leave this locker room rn all u gotta do is say the word baby

Azzi: Don’t worry, I’ll eat enough cookies for the two of us

Azzi tucks her phone into her pocket, stares out the window. Recently the homesick ache in her heart has become more familiar than the feeling of Paige’s lips, and she hates it. This next year of getting used to long distance will be the hardest year of their relationship so far, but she knows it’ll be worth it.

August 2026

She knows it’ll be worth it because Paige finally bought the goddamn ring.

“Will you marry me?”

Azzi sinks into Paige’s arms. 10 years.

“Fuck yeah.”

They kiss.

[leona-hawthorne]

LIMINAL. mattheo riddle

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary; a restless night by the lake, where longing and unspoken tension linger in the air, and neither of you dares to close the distance. words ; 1.2k warnings ; angst?, confusing dynamic

navigation mattheo riddle masterlist

The night air was still, heavy with the scent of summer. The sky stretched endlessly above the Black Lake, a sea of dark velvet studded with flickering stars. The moon hung low, casting a pale glow over the rippling water, turning it into a mirror of light. And there you were, standing at the edge of it all, your silhouette sharp against the backdrop of night, your presence pulling him in like gravity.

Mattheo couldn’t take his eyes off you. Not now, not ever.

There was something about you that made him restless. He couldn’t place it. Maybe it was the way you seemed so distant, even when you were near, your thoughts always miles away from the noise of the world. Maybe it was the way you laughed—soft and easy, as if you were keeping a secret from everyone else, one that he desperately wanted to know. Or maybe it was the way your eyes met his in fleeting moments, like you could see right through the mask he wore so well.

He watched you now, the breeze tousling your hair as you gazed out over the water. You were like that—quiet, contained—but there was a fire underneath, something simmering just beneath the surface. And every time Mattheo got close enough to see it, you pulled back, leaving him wondering if he was imagining it all.

He hated it. He hated the way you made him feel unsteady, like he was losing control. Control was everything to Mattheo—had been ever since he could remember. He had mastered the art of pretending, of knowing exactly what to say to get what he wanted. Girls? Easy. They were always the same—predictable, eager to fall into whatever role he needed them to play for the night. It was a game, and he knew the rules inside out.

But with you? The rules didn’t apply.

And it infuriated him.

He leaned back against a tree, his arms crossed, watching as you finally sat down on the grass, pulling your knees to your chest. The moonlight caught on the soft curve of your jaw, the delicate slope of your shoulders. His jaw clenched. He wanted to go to you, to sit beside you and ask what the hell you were thinking about. But he didn’t. You never gave him that satisfaction.

This thing between you two—it was like chasing shadows. Every time he thought he had you figured out, you slipped through his fingers, leaving him empty. And still, he couldn’t stay away.

You had become an obsession, the one thing he couldn’t conquer.

A breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the soft murmur of the lake. Mattheo’s thoughts drifted, his mind wandering back to the countless nights before this one—nights spent in dark corners, your voice low and teasing, your touch always just out of reach. He remembered the way you had laughed at him once, telling him he didn’t know how to take things seriously. He had scoffed at you, brushing it off. But later, when he was alone in the quiet of his dorm, your words lingered, biting deeper than they should have.

Because maybe you were right.

Maybe he didn’t know how to take anything seriously. Maybe that’s why he was so damn terrified of whatever this was with you.

Mattheo pushed himself off the tree, his feet carrying him toward you before he even realized what he was doing. You didn’t look up when he sat down beside you, though he could feel the shift in the air between you. Tense, like you were waiting for something to happen.

His gaze slid over to you, taking in the way your lashes fluttered as you stared out at the lake. He wondered what you saw out there. What was going on inside that head of yours?

“You always come here,” he said, his voice low, almost accusing.

You didn’t look at him. “So do you.”

He huffed a laugh, the sound bitter. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m waiting for something.”

That got your attention. You turned your head, your eyes locking onto his. His heart skipped a beat—something it had no business doing—and for a second, he thought you might say something that would change everything. But you didn’t. You never did. Instead, you just looked at him, as if you were searching for something in his expression, something that never quite showed.

“You always wait,” you murmured. “But you never move.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. He had heard things like that before—people telling him he didn’t care, that he was incapable of actually feeling anything real. He had shrugged it off, letting the words slide over him like water. But when you said it, it felt different. It felt like a challenge.

Mattheo leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower. “Maybe that’s because every time I try to move, you pull away.”

You blinked, your lips parting slightly as if you were about to speak. But then, you didn’t. You just stared at him, and for the first time in a long time, Mattheo felt vulnerable. Exposed.

He hated it.

His hand reached out before he could stop himself, his fingers brushing against your arm. You didn’t pull away, and that was enough to make his pulse quicken. He could feel the warmth of your skin beneath his, the electric current that always seemed to crackle in the air when you were near.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than he intended.

But you didn’t. You just looked at him with those eyes that always seemed to know too much, and something inside him twisted. He didn’t understand you. He didn’t understand why he was drawn to you like this, why every girl before you had been so simple, so easy, and yet you were the one thing he couldn’t grasp.

You looked away, breaking the moment, and Mattheo’s chest tightened with frustration. He was desperate to know what you were thinking, to know why you kept him at arm’s length. Every time he tried to get closer, you slipped further away.

And yet, he couldn’t stop chasing you.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. The night was still, the world holding its breath as if waiting for something to happen.

Then you stood up, brushing the grass off your skirt. “It’s late,” you said softly, your voice distant, like you were already gone.

Mattheo’s heart sank, his hand clenching into a fist in the grass. He watched as you walked away, your figure fading into the darkness, and for a moment, he wanted to call out to you, to tell you to stop running. To tell you that he was falling—harder than he ever had before—and he didn’t know how to make you see it.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he sat there, watching your shadow disappear into the night, knowing that he’d keep waiting. Just like he always did.

And maybe, one day, you’d stop pulling away.

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

this was inspired by ‘each time you fall in love’ by cigarettes after sex!! also thank you @ur-local-wizard and @riddleswhcre for proof reading this a while ago i love you guys <3

[n0vazsq]

Found the way | PA17 x Reader

pairing . . . soulmate!paul aron x soulmate!mixed!race!reader

summary . . . Meeting your soulmate after talking telepathically for years certainly was something.... especially when he's a race driver and you're an intern working in the same place

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.4k+

warnings . . . none! just a note that i'm going to refer to paul by his name, but reader doesn't know what his name is until they met!! conversations in their mind are in italic!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . wow. this was something to write.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . For as long as you could remember, you and Paul had been connected. It wasn’t something you had asked for, but it felt like it was always meant to be. Every day, you heard his voice in your head, clear as day.

The first time it happened, you had been terrified. You were alone, walking home from school, and suddenly, you heard a voice in your mind.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You had frozen in place, looking around, trying to figure out who had spoken to you, but no one was there. It took weeks before you realized that the voice in your head wasn’t a hallucination or some kind of weird glitch in the world.

It was Paul.

He explained to you that he had the same ability, and he was just as confused as you were. The two of you quickly learned that you could only communicate telepathically, no spoken words, no physical contact, just thoughts exchanged in the quiet spaces of your minds.

And so, over time, you both built a connection. You got to know each other in the most intimate, invisible way. You shared everything. The good, the bad, the joys, and the fears, without the hidden stuff that often came with speaking out loud.

You’d both learned to help each other when things felt overwhelming, offering support when life was too hard to navigate alone. But there was always this unspoken rule; you couldn’t tell each other your names.

At first, it didn’t matter. You both laughed about it, making jokes and creating silly aliases. You had ended up calling him Blondie because of the way he described his hair; golden in every way, from the light shine to the warmth it seemed to radiate.

He’d called you Curls, a teasing nickname for your wild, curly hair. It became your thing.

He was Blondie, and you were Curls, and for some reason, it was perfect.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t both curious. You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to meet him, see what he looked like, hold him close when he had a hard day. But there was always that one, simple rule; no names.

And yet, after years of talking like this, you both had grown closer than anyone else in your life. You had supported each other through heart ache, listened to each other’s frustrations, and celebrated each other’s victories. You couldn’t wait to finally meet in person.

"I’m counting down the days, Curls. I just know you’ll be even more beautiful than I imagined." Paul’s voice echoed in your mind one night, his thoughts filled with affection.

"I can’t wait either, Blondie. I swear, I’ve been dreaming about it." You closed your eyes, smiling, already imagining the moment when you could finally hold him, feel his warmth. "It’s all I think about."

The world outside of your telepathic connection seemed so small. Conversations with friends and family felt distant, almost irrelevant. All that mattered was you and Blondie. But you couldn’t help the anxiety that gnawed at you, what if he didn’t like you in person? What if it was awkward?

"Do you think it’ll be weird when we finally meet?" You asked, the uncertainty creeping into your thoughts.

"No." Paul’s response was immediate, confident. "I’ve been talking to you for years, Curls. It’s going to be perfect."

You had talked to him about your job internship, how you were working behind the scenes in the paddock for a Formula 1 team, assisting with everything from logistics to preparation, and experience to complement your course in motorsport management.

You’d mentioned how exciting, yet nerve wracking, it was to finally get the opportunity to be in such a fast paced environment, learning from professionals in the industry. You’d also shared how there was a possibility, just a small one, that you and he could meet face to face for the first time during the race weekend, though you hadn’t expected it to happen so soon or so unexpectedly.

And now, here you were, standing in the bustling paddock of a Formula 1 race, running around trying to do your job done amidst all the excitement. You were barely keeping your focus, distracted by the knowledge that you were just a few meters away from meeting him, your soulmate, the person who had been in your head for years. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt as nervous as you did.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

You were walking with a team member down the crowded pit lane, carrying a stack of equipment for a quick setup. As you navigated the sea of people, your foot caught on the edge of a toolbox, sending you tumbling forward.

You braced for impact, but before you could hit the ground, a pair of arms shot out, catching you in mid fall.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was go-"

Your heart skipped a beat as you collided with his chest, the impact leaving you breathless. You instinctively looked up into his eyes and froze.

There was something… something so strangely familiar about this person. His bright blue eyes locked onto yours, and everything else seemed to fade away. It was as if you had always known this person, and the realization hit you like a wave.

This was him.

"Curls?" His voice was low, hesitant, but somehow it sounded exactly the same as it did in your mind. You felt a jolt of recognition.

"Blondie?" you replied, nearly breathless. You weren’t sure if you’d said it out loud or thought it, but the words came so naturally.

His eyes widened in disbelief. "You-how-how are you here?" He looked around, clearly trying to piece together the situation.

You smiled, heart pounding in your chest. "The internship."

For a moment, neither of you knew what to say. The shock and joy of the moment hung between you like a heavy blanket, but the connection you felt in your chest was undeniable.

You had been waiting for this day for years, and now that it had finally arrived, you were left speechless.

He held you at arm's length, still unsure, his fingers lightly brushing your arms as though confirming you weren’t just a figment of his imagination. "I-I didn’t expect… This wasn’t how I thought it would happen. I thought we’d… I don’t know… meet some other way."

You laughed, a sound that felt more freeing than anything you had ever experienced. "I didn’t expect it either. But here we are."

"Yeah," he said, grinning now. "Here we are."

And just like that, you both stood there, in the midst of the busy paddock, overwhelmed by the realization that everything you had shared in your minds for years was now physical, real, and right in front of you.

"What's your name, then? Mine is Paul."

You told him your name, smiling when he repeated it, as if testing the way it felt on his tongue.

Paul’s gaze softened as he stared at you, the same intensity and adoration you had always felt from him radiating in his eyes. "I’ve waited for this moment for so long. It feels… unreal."

You reached for his hand, your heart fluttering as your fingers brushed his. The sensation was electric, like every piece of you had clicked into place. "Me too," you whispered. "I’ve always known it was you, but now I can see you, and it’s more than I ever imagined."

He smiled, a tender, almost shy expression that made your heart swell. "So, you’re actually here… and I’m not dreaming?"

"I’m here, Blondie, or Paul," you reassured him softly. "And I’m never going anywhere else."

And then, without thinking, you both moved closer. You didn’t need words to tell him how much this moment meant.

You simply leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that felt like the peak of everything you had been waiting for. Soft at first, but as if everything else in the world had faded, you deepened it, feeling a connection so deep it was almost overwhelming.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Paul rested his forehead against yours, his grip on your hands tight. "I can’t believe it. You’re here. We’re here."

You smiled, the weight of the years of waiting slowly lifting off your shoulders. "We’re here," you agreed, "and I’ll never leave."

He kissed you again, this time more passionately, as if he never wanted to let you go. And in that moment, you knew, more than ever, that no matter the distance, no matter the years, the connection you had was real.

You had finally found your way to each other.

[seiwas]

for ur blurb: Midoriya, hands, and for a trope im thinking like first date ? first touch?

thanks for sending scout! 🫶

midoriya + hands + first touch

contains: pro-hero!deku x assistant!reader (i am a sucker for this), very cliche but i am a sucker for that too, reader wears flats and is also really clumsy

contrary to popular belief, pro-hero deku does not run as "hot" as the internet proclaims he does.

it's a reasonable expectation, you think, with how lively and bubbly he is. his hyperactivity must stem from some urge to constantly move, after all.

but, that's not what you feel on the first impact. on the initial collision.

routine patrols almost always result in your boss trudging up the emergency stairs, geared up and sweaty, because he refuses to occupy half of the elevator with the added real estate his hero suit takes up. it's sweet of him, awfully thoughtful really. the kind of person he is. but―

his office is on the 15th floor, and though he insists it's good warm up for the rest of the day, he's practically shedded off half of his suit by the time he reaches his floor, not quite heaving, but not quite breathing easily either.

today, you decide, you'll meet him half-way―bring down one of his extra shirts from the alarming amount he keeps stocked up in his office cabinet. and a bottle of water too, in case he's thirsty.

the trip down the emergency exit is made easier by a pair of flats you wear, a change initiated by midoriya during your first few months on the job. most assistants wear heels—an unspoken rule no one can quite explain. but—

“are your feet okay?” he asks as you both walk past a plaque that reads "gear support".

you look down at your feet before turning to him, confused, tilting your head slightly.

the corners of his eyes crinkle as he stifles a chuckle, endeared, "sorry.” his green mop of hair sways lightly as he shakes his head, “i mean, i noticed earlier. you were moving your feet a lot.”

your eyebrows shoot up, shoulders tensing as embarrassment washes over you. you immediately scramble on what to say, but your exchange quickly becomes a back-and-forth of who’s-realized-what when you notice midoriya’s freckled cheeks tint a dark pink.

“not—not like that’s wrong! or anything," he shakes his hands in front of him, palms splayed out in front of you. he immediately pockets one of them, taking a deep breath, "just,” before he sighs out, fingers hovering over the keypad to his personal gear room, “if your feet are starting to hurt, you should wear something more comfortable.”

and so here you are now, just having passed the tenth floor as you make your way down to meet your boss half-way. you can already hear his footsteps a few flights below, the heavy clunking of his boots echoing in the empty staircase.

you take another step, the bottle of water and t-shirt clutched tightly to your chest. you're careful to keep your feet light so as to not alarm him, but it must be his hero senses when you hear him call your name, his voice curling up in question as he stares at you from below.

you peer from the railing, smiling sheepishly as you raise up the items in your hand and wave.

some strands of his hair have matted to his forehead, the top portion of his suit zipped down to reveal the compression shirt he wears underneath. his eyes widen as he notices what you're holding, expression morphing into a small, relieved smile as he extends his legs to skip a step. you don't miss the small bow his head makes at your kind gesture.

it's at the landing of the eighth floor that midoriya pauses and waits, adjusting his pants and tucking his gloves into his utility belt as he watches you make your last few steps.

now, wearing flats to work has definitely solved a boatload of your discomfort in the agency; you no longer get blisters at the sides of your toes and your calves don't cramp the same way they used to. but while it's reduced the amount of times you've tripped and fallen by at least 50%, the constraint of a pair of heels is not the only factor that contributes to the little mishaps you typically get yourself into.

you're clumsy, to a fault―

as you take the second-to-the-last step before the landing, you somehow lose your footing and find yourself tripping, body going out of balance as it tips forward. you're preparing yourself for your inevitable fall when you think―

―not even a pair of flats can save you from that.

"oh my god―!" you squeak, voice involuntarily pulled from your throat as your hands fail to grab onto the railing. the split second you manage to get a glimpse of midoriya's face shows you that he's just as shocked as you are.

nothing can save you now, you fear.

except, maybe, a pair of pro-hero hands that just so happen to belong to your boss.

you're fully expecting to hit the floor when you're met with the firm surface of midoriya's chest instead, the damp fabric cool against your forehead. his hands are positioned separately along your waist and your hip, the one by your ribcage just centimeters shy from your chest.

if you aren't going to die from falling down the stairs, you're pretty sure you're going to die from embarrassment right now.

you blink, once, twice, a few times before his voice registers to you, the rumbling by your cheek accompanying his speech.

his concerned "are you okay?" feels like it should be a staple greeting at this point.

you maneuver yourself to stand upright slowly, the bottle of water and t-shirt still clutched in your other hand. his fingers grab a hold of yours to keep you steady, calloused skin touching yours.

you don't expect it, the slight shock you feel as his hand clutches your own; it’s cold and a little clammy amidst the bumps and grooves you feel from his scars.

the moment crashes onto you when you finally look up to face him, the embarrassment doubling you over to bow an almost perfect 90 degrees in apology, "s-sir deku, i'm so sorry!"

"h-hey," he laughs awkwardly, his hand reaching lightly to tap your back, "i-it's okay, you don't have to apologize―"

"i should've seen the last step, i didn't mean―" you remain in your bow, rambling.

"it's o―"

"i just wanted to deliver the shirt and maybe some water so you wouldn't have to―"

he glances at the items gripped tightly on your sides, his lips curling into a soft smile, “i really appreciate―"

"i didn't mean to cause more work―"

he sighs, amused as he crouches low to meet you eye-to-eye. you stop speaking, stunned by a pair of pine green staring at you. his freckled cheeks are dusted a familiar dark pink.

"please stop bowing," he requests, smile genuine and voice a little shy.

you scramble to stand straight, hands outstretched to give him the bottle of water and his t-shirt.

"h-here, sir deku. i'm sorry again, i'll do―"

"'deku'," he quickly replies, his hand reaching for the items. his fingers brush yours as he takes them from you—the second touch. it’s still a little cold, clammy as he says, "i mean, thank you. and just... just 'deku' is fine."

a/n: if i were to characterize reader, i would say they’re pretty similar to midoriya 😭 atp, they’ve also been working for a good year. reader has a developing crush on him (this scene is the trigger) and midoriya is really fond of reader! everyone teases him that his assistant is clumsy as heck but he kinda just shrugs it off and says it’s just their quirk (no pun intended), and that they’re really hardworking 🥹

[dailymanners]

Don't talk about plans in front of someone unless they're invited. If you don't have any intention of inviting them as well, then don't talk about it in front of them. And if you do talk about plans in front of someone, then make it clear that they're invited too.

First and foremost you avoid hurting other people's feelings, giving them FOMO, and generally making them feel excluded. Especially if someone has a history of being excluded by their peers this be pretty upsetting.

The second thing is that this avoids the awkwardness of the other person getting the wrong idea and inviting themselves or assuming that they're invited too, and all the awkwardness of either enduring someone coming who you didn't want to be part of the plan, or having to break it to them that they're not invited.

Of course some exceptions apply. If you are talking to your co-worker, who this is only your second time you've spoken to them, you should be able to talk about the vacation you're planning on going with your family without your co-worker, who you've only spoken to twice now, assuming that they're invited on vacation with your family too, or this co-worker feeling bad that they can't go on vacation with your family.

So the general rule is that this applies mostly if it's the same, or similar, type / level of relationship and closeness. For example: if you want to get coffee after work with co-worker A and only co-worker A, then avoid talking about the coffee plans in front of co-worker B (maybe only co-worker A will really understand your frustration with that client you want to vent about, so you want 1 on 1 time with just co-worker A, nothing personal to co-worker B).

Often if it's a similar type / level of relationship and closeness, then it's more confusing on whether or not you're invited too, and if you're not invited then the risk of FOMO and hurt feelings is higher when it's a similar type / level of relationship and closeness.

And if you don't mind someone coming or actively want them to come too, make it clear that you're not just talking about plans in front of them, but that you want them to come and they are invited too.

Some people say there is an unspoken social rule that if plans are spoken about in front of you that means you're invited too, but anyone who has been excluded by their peers will tell you this isn't necessarily the case, and if someone does have a history of being excluded they won't pick up on your assumption that they should know they're invited too if you're talking about the plans in front of them.

So make it clear to them, say something like "please come too / we'd love it if you could make it too!" if you're talking about plans in front of someone and want them to come too.

[pyro-les]

To save a life - Rio Vidal X goddess of life reader

880 words - warnings: none

Based of this request

taglist: @thecavalrywife @hannah-0730 @believe-in-magic13 @jenniferjareauwife @wandasreallover @thesharkwhalewhoohooooo @acutenobody

Yin and yang, light and dark, life and death; they had many names but all of them lead to the same two people. Since the dawn of time they have had the two most important jobs, they brought life and death, maintaining the circle of life. They brought the beginning and end respectively, so similar yet so different, but as people have always said, opposites attract.

They understood each others jobs, respected their decisions and knew that the other would always be right in when they said it was someone's time. However there was one time they disagreed, both stood at the edge of a lake, watching from afar the cries of pain both emotional and physical of the witch known so famously as the witch killer. And that is why they recognised her, Rio and Y/N had been there everytime she took life, being drawn there as a part of their jobs.

But for once she was pleading for a life to be saved instead of taking one. The witch called out to anyone listening not to take him, that he hadn't even got a chance to live yet, it couldn't be his time already. And so they stood there, life and death both of their powers subconsciously fighting for control of the child. They had no choice in the matter, not usually anyway, the fates were not chosen by them, it was just nature. They could lend a hand in the process of their respective powers but ultimately it was not their choice and yet as she stood there watching the grieving mother Rio felt guilt.

"Please, don't take him. Please!" She continues to scream. Rio and Y/N started to walk closer, they wanted to help, they really did.

Looking up with tears still streaming down her face Agatha watched the duo walk closer. She hadn't seen them before but as they grew closer they became more clear and she started to realise who they were, she had heard legends of them. She didn't say much more, her eyes pleading enough, she just whispered a final weak "please".

With a breath Y/N finally spoke up "All I can offer is time.". Agatha looked at her with a small smile relief written all over her face while Rio looked at her with confusion and worry.

"Sweetheart, you know you're not allowed to. We can't break the rules." Rio spoke in a hushed tone, she seemed almost upset to say so.

At this Agatha started to worry again, she wasn't supposed to hear that but she did. "No, no, please! I'm begging please, let him live."

"She's been through enough." Y/N said to Rio, her voice was filled with pity. "It's the least we can do, the only thing we can do."

Rio sighed, she didn't want to break the rules, she didn't know what would happen if they did. But if her lover was going to break the rules than so would she, she would try and hold off her power for along as she could. She had to admit she didn't want to have to take the child, she was saving everyone pain this way, or atleast holding it off for awhile.

"Fine, I'll try to delay it as long as I can, but it won't be forever." She may have seemed disgruntled but she was glad she was helping, just apprehensive.

Y/N looked at her with a smile, she knew Rio would do it for her, just this once. "Thank you." She spoke quietly, mirroring Agathas much more loud, repetitive one.

They stayed there awhile longer, waiting for the child to be born, they had helped a bit already but they couldn't do much until they were here. They didn't have to wait long though, soon enough they watched as the witch held her child close, she was so so glad he was there, she couldn't let him go.

Y/N walked the few steps closer to the witch, an unspoken question in her eye as she slowly puts her hand out as Agatha nods gently. She slowly brings her hand to the baby's chest, closing her eyes as her hand begins to glow, a subtle pink hue bleeding into the child, the very essence of life seeping into his soul. She could feel his heart beat grow more and more steady, a stark contrast from the dull, slow pulse it had been mere moments ago. The small amount of her power left inside of him would protect him for a few years atleast, she could only do this once, she had already bent the rules enough. So she gave him as much as he could handle, as much time as she could.

She pulled her hand away after a few minutes knowing any more power would be too much for his tiny body. Y/N opened her eyes slowly and looked up to the witch, she looked much more calm now, relieved. "Thank you." She spoke gratefully, no amount of words could truly convey how grateful she was but they understood anyway.

Their job here was done, they had saved a life, one that was never supposed to exist in the first place. They had broken the rules but it was worth it.

[khristie16]

A Game On Red

about: two ferrari boys are madly obsessed with you, they do whatever it takes to keep their pr manager just for themselves warnings: daddy kink, size kink, guys are toxic, reader is innocent, jealousy, kidnapping, primal play, cnc, smut based on these requests: one two info: this was suppose to be one short post but I decided to make it into like two or three parts. It’d be a shame to make one long post taking so long to write since I make extra effort writing this plus not giving you anything to read. Hope you’ll like it the same as me. words count: 2K. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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“He thought he could overtake me that easily hahah”

Max was just maxplaining to you about other drivers on the grid. You had to laugh at him for acting like this. He was a literal God out there and he knew that as well. You liked his goofy side and you always had such a nice time with Max having around. As you were smiling at Max and listening to him, you felt this uneasy feeling spreading through your body. As if something was stabbing you in your back. You shivered a little and turned around to see what is it. Carlos was standing there with his arms crossed and determined look on his face, boring his eyes into you like as if you broke an unspoken rule between the two of you. You were looking at him, trying to figure out what this is about, but as you kept thinking about it, by the time his feature changed. A devilish smile displaying his face. You looked at him confused as ever as he walked away from the open space.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Where have I put the document??” “YN”

Your arm flew to the side where the vessel was standing, bringing it to the pieces as you broke it with your maneavour. You looked around.

“Charles?” “Can I have a quickie with you cherie?” “Of course!”

He chuckled at your comment and you didn't know what was so funny about it. As you were behind Charles following him to the suite next to your office, you saw Carlos sitting on the red couch in the middle of the room. You gulped slightly from the memory of the previous encounter with him. Carlos could be scary sometimes, you knew that from before, sometimes he looked so mad because of something happened during the race, but the look was never meant towards you. The look in his eyes could do harm. And they did to you not so long ago.

“So, guys, what do you need me for?” “A lot of things actually..”

Charles spoke to you alone, Carlos was just watching you as your wandering eyes find out. His eyes went slightly lower to your hips, just then you realized you're trampling on the spot. You immediately shut that down and placed your hands by your side.

“Dímelo cariño… do you know what is a primal play?” “Primal what?” “Primal play cherie”

You looked at both of them confused. You were lost at what they are asking you. You haven't ever heard that before and you got disempowered all of a sudden. You hated the fact they were talking about something realated to the job since you are their pr manager, and after all of this years of work in this field, you have never encountered such thing. It was embarassing enough for you.

“Why you looking sad cherie?”

You looked up again while hemming the shirt you had on.

“I am?”

You've heard Carlos groaned a little. You jumped on your spot from such sound. It couldn't possibly come out of his mouth. It was so animalistic.

“yes, you are cherie.” “Well.. I haven't heard of it. There is no such thing in my scripts either. Is this something new from the grid?”

They both bursted out loud and laughed at you. You furrowed your eyebrows and felt shame spreading through your body. When they finally stopped, Carlos looked at you again. You hoped he felt pain in the stomach for such hard laughing before.

“I can count on that you wanted to try it out with Max, didn't you?” “W-what?” “Don't play innocent cherie.” “No I-”

Carlos big fist landed on the table next to him startling you once again. You looked at him in disbelief from such behavior. It was your job afterall to untie them from the leash before meeting media. You couldn't let him walk out of there to be seen like this on cameras.

“Too bad for you cariño. We are the ones to have it from you.”

This gaze again. The harsh big brown eyes on your face. You felt your eyes watering . Charles rushed to you.

“Oh cherie, don't cry baby girl. You will like it, I promise.” “I-I sti-ll don't k-know what this has to do with j-job g-guys.” “Well you want us to behave the best right? You might help us with that. So it is kinda your job to take care of it” “Take care of what?”

Charles was out of your sight now and you were looking at Carlos. Trying to find answers in his face but none for your finding. You got a little impatient, you hated to be left out off knowledge. You didn't know what was happening and your vision got black the next second, your breath was caught by the material harassing your nostrils. All you could hear before your consciousness turned black were those words: Poor girl, we will catch you running baby girl..

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Your head hurt like hell. You breathe stiffly and your neck is sore. As you managed to open your eyes, two men in red sitting in front of you, watching you patiently. You spoke but in vain. You hardly could make a sound.

“I've told you to be more gentle with her.” “i can't help myself” “She's tiny Carlos” “oh, I love that about her”

You regained your focus again as those two were whispering to each other. You become aware you are tied up to a chair and having different clothes on. Red dress that give off the vibe the material brightens when exposed to light. Your heels were the same as you remember.

“Guys. what are you doing, w-why I have d-diffe-erent clothes on?” “We changed you cariño.”

You gulped. It meant they touched you when you weren't awake. They've seen you naked. And bare. Most of the time you don't wear panties if not neccessery.

“You have no idea how hard I had to restrain myself from that sweet little cunt of yours.”

You gasped in shock. You thought you're in a nightmare of some sort. Some fucked up dream, this couldn't be real. Just this morning you were getting your nice cup of coffee and heading to work. You've been working for these guys for few months now and they've always seemed so good. And now you look at them with disbelief and betrayal.

“You are sick.” “Cariño..”

Carlos stood up and went slowly towards you. Just now you've managed to see they have changed as well. Carlos had tight material hugging his torso and arms, leaving no imagination to his beautifully shredded muscles on his stomach. You took a look and went right back up to look elsewhere for not wanting to be confronted about this. But it was too late.

“Are you eye fucking me cariño?”

Charles appeared by his teammate's side, looking good as ever. His torso was visible with the shirt unbuttoned at chest with his veiny arms hanging beside him. His long beautiful fingers covered in rigs that made your thighs clench together once again once more. Charles reached his hand towards your face and cupped your cheek. You leant into his touch feeling dizzy. His piercing green eyes looking at you from upper hand and giving you a hard time not to smile at him. He was the cutest to you.

“We had to change you cherie. It's for the game.” “What game?”

Charles walked past you, making him stand in the position right back at you. Leaving his fingers play with your neck and slowly making its way to your collabore. You quietly hissed and felt the warm spread through your body. He rode his finger under the hem of your dress and peaked on your breasts. You stiffed by his approach and looked terrified to Carlos calm look.

“The primal play.” “What?” “You run, we chase. If we catch, we fuck. Simple rules.”

Carlos went closer to you, hovering over you, your eyes right in the level of his crotch.

“Are you trying to tell us cherie, that you are not attracted to us? That you don't want my fingers in your tight wet pussy?”

“I bet she is wet by now.”

Your watery eyes got to their peak and tears were lining down your cheeks. You looked down ashamed of yourself trying to hide from them.

“For hiding will be enough time cariño. Show me those tears.”

He tucked at your chin to pull it up. He was directly looking into your eyes. His big brown eyes warm, giving you some time to breathe and relax as you melt under his gaze. This gaze that was following you all the time since you’ve started working for them. You missed his old self.

“Que preciosa.” He murmured to himself

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You drove a long way from the place. You didn’t know if it was a house or some old tavern, all you knew it has to be away from curious people around. At least that's what you thought, because the boys didn't forget to blindfold you. And you thought if you saw some woman being blindfolded with two men by her side, you wouldn’t let it go. For you right now in this situation, it meant you’re completely alone with them. It must have been dark outside already, you felt the cold creeping in on the seats you were sitting on. You were shivering as you tried to warm up.

“Don't worry cariño. You will warm up enough when running.”

Charles remained silent. You knew he was sitting next to you because occasionally he put his hand on your thigh and caressed your skin. You were happy for such moments. You only knew boys like that, being nice and always treating you with respect. So you were glad it was at least as close as to it as it was before. Your thinking got interrupted as the car started to slow down and your body stretched upwards, expecting that you had already arrived at the place. You heard the click of the belts and at that moment your breath ran out. It‘s happening.

The piece of cloth you had tied around your eyes was torn off and your eyes slowly began to adjust to the environment. It didn't take much time because it was really dark outside. Carlos wrapped his arms around you and looked down on you. He was smiling at you as if he expected something from you and was looking forward to taking everything you had to offer. You slowly turned back to the front where Charles had stood a moment ago.

“You have a choice here.You either play with us and follow the rules Carlos mentioned back at the house, or you will withdraw from the game, but you will have to resign as our PR manager. We just couldn't longer watch you making eyes at next riders anymore. So, what do you choose?”

Charles left you in a state of distress. You barely blinked and perceived the world around you. The thought of losing your job was incomprehensible. You loved your job and couldn't imagine ever getting rid of it. You knew you weren't in a position to explain moral behavior to them right now. It would obviously be useless. They thought that you were way too friendly with someone else and their unreal obsession developed into something like this. Although this was blackmail, there was no other way to deal with it. And the fact that you were excited about the game, you quickly shoved it to the back of your mind, because it was incomprehensible for you to admit that something like that might appeal to you.

You slowly and cautiously nodded your agreement. Charles smiled at you but Carlos didn't share that enthusiasm. He tugged at your arm and looked at you with that look.

“Words cariño”

“Y-yes.”

The game was on.

[bambidixon]

Daryl and his Kingdom girl.

He doesn't know her that well, but he’s seen her often enough around the Kingdom. Whether she’s in the gardens tending to the crops, ensuring everything with the cattle is in order, or simply walking through the bustling streets, her presence is something he finds impossible to ignore. That smile of hers—bright, unbothered, always there—is something he finds deeply irritating. In fact, everything about her grates on him: her laughter, which echoes like a bell, the way her hair slips free from her ponytail and falls delicately across her face as she works, even the way she seems so effortlessly at ease with everything around her.

The first time he hears Ezekiel call her "princess," he nearly laughs out loud, thinking how well the title fits her. But when she scoffs and rolls her eyes at the moniker, as if it’s the most absurd thing she’s ever heard, a fresh wave of irritation surges through him. The way she dismisses the title bothers him even more than the title itself.

After the accident on the bridge, when he decided to distance himself from everything, she was the last person he wanted to encounter. Yet, even in his self-imposed exile, he couldn’t escape her. The first time he saw her outside the safety of the Kingdom, his immediate reaction was confusion—what was she doing out here? He found himself following her, not out of concern, he doesn't care about her at all, but because she was close to Carol and Ezekiel. If nothing else, he reasoned, he could make sure she didn’t get herself killed.

But when he sees her hunting, a strange feeling knots in his stomach. There’s something unsettling about how capable she is, how she moves through the forest with the same ease and grace that he does. Damn it, he thinks. Now, every time they cross paths while hunting, she greets him with that same annoying smile that makes his blood boil. And yet, no matter how much it bothers him, he finds himself nodding back in acknowledgement, as if compelled by some unspoken rule.

He can still remember the first time they actually spoke. He had been tracking a deer for nearly two days, but just as he fired his crossbow, he noticed another arrow strike the deer almost simultaneously. His frustration surged as he rushed forward, only to see her emerging from the trees, heading towards the same prey.

"My arrow hit first," she declared, her voice steady as she approached the deer, now lying on the ground with two arrows embedded in its chest.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed at her audacity. "Ya wish," he retorted with a mocking tone, unwilling to concede even an inch to her.

[tinytinyblogs]

Hey can you do yandere skz punishments

Punishment time darling

They give you everything you could ever want, but crossing them is a mistake you’ll never want to make.

Hyung line, Maknae line (coming soon)

Stray Kids Masterlist 1.0 & 2.0

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Chan

Bang Chan isn’t one to act impulsively, not when it comes to you. He’s always calculating, always planning. When you disobey him, he doesn’t explode in anger like someone else might. No, Chan prefers something quieter, something more effective. He believes punishment should teach a lesson, not waste energy. And when it comes to you, he wants you to feel the weight of your guilt, to truly understand why you were wrong. Isolation is his preferred method. It’s clean, controlled, and, most importantly, it works. The first time he catches you breaking one of his unspoken rules—talking to someone he doesn’t approve of, going somewhere without telling him—he doesn’t raise his voice. Instead, he gives you a long, measured look, the kind that sends a chill down your spine. His usual warmth is gone, replaced by something colder, sharper. Later, when it’s just the two of you, he sits you down. The air feels heavy, suffocating. His voice is low and calm, almost tender. “Think about it, darling. I’m doing this for your own good,” he says, his expression carefully crafted to appear apologetic, though his eyes betray something darker. “If I’m not protecting you, who will? This world is too dangerous for someone like you. Without me… you’re nothing.” The words sting, but they also confuse you.

He delivers them with such conviction, such unwavering certainty, that a part of you begins to question yourself. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you were careless, ungrateful even. He leans closer, his hand brushing against yours as if to comfort you. “You’ll understand soon enough,” he murmurs. And then it begins. Subtly, at first. Your phone mysteriously stops working, and when you ask about it, Chan is quick to offer an excuse. “It’s better this way. You don’t need all those distractions.” Your friends start to drift away—he makes sure of it, carefully orchestrating misunderstandings and missed calls until you have no one left to turn to. Your schedule becomes eerily predictable, revolving entirely around him. He insists it’s for your benefit, that it’s safer this way. The isolation creeps in slowly, but it’s relentless. The world you once knew shrinks until it consists of only him. And every time you try to protest, he’s ready with the same disarming smile and soothing words. “I know this feels harsh, but it’s because I love you. You’ll thank me someday.” Yet, no matter how gentle his tone, there’s no mistaking the steel beneath it. Bang Chan doesn’t give second chances. By the time you realize the full extent of his control, it’s too late. You’re trapped, and he knows it. And to him, that’s exactly as it should be.

Minho

If Minho grows quiet and his sharp gaze locks onto you, it’s never a good sign. When you talk back to him or let your emotions run wild, and he remains silent, it’s far worse than anger—it’s dangerous. His silence is not passivity; it’s a storm waiting to unfold. Minho doesn’t like wasting energy, and why should he? When he acts, it’s always calculated, deliberate, and impactful, ensuring you won’t dare to repeat your mistakes. The last time you pushed him, your words came tumbling out in frustration, escalating into a full-blown argument. He listened without interruption, his expression unreadable, the stillness of his body unnerving. Once your words ran dry, he finally spoke. “Are you done?” he asked, his voice eerily calm, laced with a sharp edge. “You’ve been crossing the line lately. You know that, don’t you?” The weight of his words sat heavy in your chest long after he left the room. Sleep felt impossible that night as anxiety churned in your mind. You couldn’t ignore the suffocating feeling that something was coming. And you were right. Just as the clock struck midnight, the sound of your door creaking open made you sit up in bed.

There he was, standing in the doorway, his silhouette outlined by the dim hallway light. His eyes, dark and piercing, met yours, and an unsettling smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Waiting for me, lovely?” he asked softly, stepping into the room with a predator’s grace. Before you could respond, he tossed something onto the bed. The clatter was jarring, and your breath hitched when you realized what it was: your phone, shattered into pieces. “Phone? No more,” he said with an icy smirk. “I wonder what else I should make into pieces. Those stupid plushies you’re so attached to? Or maybe… someone precious?” A soft, humorless laugh escaped him as he leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours. “Remember this, love. No crossing the line. Consider this your warning,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low. “Don’t make me dirty my hands, alright?” His words cut deeper than any shout ever could. Straightening, he glanced at you one last time before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. With Minho, silence was never just silence. It was a threat, a promise, and a lesson. And when he acted, it was always with a precision that left no room for misunderstanding.

Changbin

Explode—that’s the only way to describe him when he’s angry. It’s not subtle or restrained; it’s raw, chaotic, and terrifying. When his temper snaps, it’s like a storm that tears through everything in its path. He throws things against the wall, his voice rising into a roar that makes your chest tighten with fear. The sweet, soft side he usually shows you is gone, replaced by someone you can barely recognize. “You think I’m joking right now?” he shouts, his eyes blazing with fury, so red it’s like all he can see is rage. He plants himself in front of the door, his body a solid barrier ensuring there’s no escape. The once tidy room is unrecognizable—vases lie shattered on the floor, shards glinting in the dim light, papers scattered everywhere. Each crash feels like a knife twisting in your gut, and all you can do is collapse onto the floor, your knees too weak to hold you up. His breathing is heavy, his chest heaving like he’s barely holding back from completely losing control. “Ignore me like that again,” he growls, his voice low and dripping with menace, “answer me without thinking, and next time, I’ll throw you against the wall just like I did those vases.”

The venom in his words makes your heart race, and for a split second, you can’t tell if it’s an empty threat or a promise. Either way, the weight of his fury presses down on you, leaving you frozen in place. And then, just as suddenly as it started, the storm begins to subside. He straightens, his eyes still fixed on you, but the blazing anger in them softens into something almost tender. He takes a step forward, then another, crouching down to meet you on the floor. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant, as if trying to erase the memory of the chaos he just unleashed. You flinch as he reaches for you, but he doesn’t stop. His hands find your face, cupping it gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that have spilled down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, love. You need to understand how much I love you,” he whispers, his tone pleading. It’s disorienting, the way he shifts from monster to lover, his gentleness so at odds with the destruction around you. “So don’t make me lose my temper again, got it?” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. The warning is clear, and you can only nod.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin has a way of making you doubt yourself, twisting your thoughts until you’re unsure of what’s real. He doesn’t raise his voice or resort to anger—instead, he makes you feel like you’re the one who’s wrong, like you’re the villain and he’s the victim. His charm is intoxicating, but beneath it lies something dangerous, something that leaves you questioning everything about yourself and your relationship. When you upset him, he doesn’t comfort you or address it directly. Instead, he turns it into his own game, one where the rules are stacked entirely in his favor. He knows exactly how to manipulate the situation, how to make you feel like the guilt is entirely yours. His voice is soft, trembling just enough to tug at your heartstrings as he asks, “Do you even love me?” Somehow, he manages to conjure tears—perfect, convincing tears that make your chest tighten with guilt. You know he’s playing a part, that the sadness in his eyes is an act, yet it still works. His vulnerability feels so real, so raw, that you can’t help but question if maybe you truly are the problem. He always knows what to say to make you doubt your actions, and soon enough, you’re scrambling to fix something you aren’t even sure you broke. He doesn’t stop there.

His words cut deeper than any raised voice or angry outburst ever could. “I feel like I’m nothing to you,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping as though he can’t bear to look at you. “Do you even care? Am I just wasting my time here?” The weight of his accusations settles heavily on your shoulders, making you feel like the worst person in the world. And that’s exactly what he wants. For Hyunjin, this isn’t just a moment of hurt—it’s a game, a calculated strategy to make you prove yourself over and over again. You find yourself apologizing, explaining, and convincing him of your love, even when you don’t fully understand what you’re apologizing for. By the time he leans in, brushing a tear from your cheek, you’re already falling into his trap. “Tell me,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with desperation. “Tell me how much you love me. Please… I can’t live without you.” His words are a plea, but they carry a weight that crushes you. It’s not just about proving your love—it’s about erasing the guilt he’s so carefully placed on you. And when you finally stammer out your assurances, he smiles faintly, knowing he’s won. For Hyunjin, victory isn’t loud or violent. It’s quiet, devastating, and entirely unforgettable.