#chive x reader

[vikkirosko]

Hi, if you're all right with this. Could you do How would Metal Family characters Dee, Heavy, Glam, and Ches would react to s/o having hair even longer than theirs? Like their s/o hair is really curly, and it goes all the way down to their waist or butt. How would they react to seeing their s/o undoing their bun and letting their hair down for the first time in front of them? How would they react to seeing their s/o's hair so long?😊

Headcanons Long hair

💖 Glam x Reader 🎸

Glam often kept his hair loose, while you always tied it in a bun so that your hair would not interfere with you. He was not shy about saying that you had beautiful hair, and you reciprocated this by touching his hair several times, with his permission, and saying how soft and fluffy they were. You really liked his hair

You spent a lot of time together. When you were once again spending time together cooking lunch, Glam heard a strange sound. When he looked at you, about to ask what it was, he saw you with your hair down. As it turned out, your hair band broke, it was the sound of the hair band tearing that he heard

You quickly brought a spare hair band that was in your bag, and Glam helped you tie your hair back into a bun. He said in a matter-of-fact tone that you have beautiful hair and that it must be hard for you to take care of it all the time. Your hair was long enough to reach your waist and it was obvious that you spent a lot of time trying to keep it in good condition

When Glam finished tying your hair, you were able to return to cooking. He could safely say that you looked beautiful both with your hair down and tied in a bun. He wasn't going to convince you to wear your hair down if you were uncomfortable. The main thing for him was that you felt comfortable

📚 Dee x Reader 📱

Dee and you were in the same class and you were the only one from his class with whom he talked a lot. Sometimes his gaze caught on the bun in which your hair was gathered. You always kept your hair tied up so that it wouldn't interfere with your daily life. Dee assumed you had long hair, but he didn't know how long

You skipped physical education together, preferring to sit on benches. Usually you chatted, discussing various little things, but this time when you came there was irritation on your face and your hair, reaching the length of your buttocks, was loose. As it turned out, your hair band broke and because of this you were forced to walk with your hair down, which bothered you

Looking at how you stubbornly tucked strands of hair behind your ears, he took out his spare hair band from his backpack and gave it to you. You hugged him tightly in gratitude and hurried to tie your hair. With your hair tied back in a bun, you looked much more familiar, but Dee would be lying if he said that your loose hair did not look beautiful

He liked you both with your hair tied up in a bun and with your hair down. He didn't dare to do it openly, but he was interested to know what your hair felt like. Maybe someday he could decide not only to confess his feelings to you, but also that he thought your hair was beautiful

🎮 Heavy x Reader 🐱

You and Heavy have been in the same class for the last few years. You were one of the people closest to him. You spent a lot of time together and Heavy was very serious about arranging a date for the two of you. But in all the time that he has known you, he has never seen you with your hair down. You kept your hair tied up in a bun all the time so that it wouldn't get in your way

Heavy often went to visit you and during one of these visits he asked you to let your hair down. You were surprised by his request, but you agreed. Heavy was mesmerized by you with your hair down. Your hair reached your waist and, feeling his gaze on you, you shyly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and blood rushed to your cheeks

He asked you, with a twinkle in his eyes, if he could braid your hair. You laughed softly but agreed, turning your back on him and giving him access to your hair. You didn't see how focused his face was, but Heavy really tried to make the braid look beautiful

When Heavy finished, your hair was braided into the braid he worked so hard for. Heavy was proud to tell you that he learned how to braid braids by watching his mom and he was glad that he was able to put his knowledge into practice. You had really beautiful and soft hair that he liked to touch and Heavy would be glad if you let him braid your hair again sometimes

🧄 Chive x Reader 🎸

You met Chive shortly after he opened a music store. You were the first employee he hired and you were quickly able to find a common language, not only in terms of work, but also in personal terms. However, in several years, he has never seen you untie the bun in which you gathered your hair. You claimed that it was more convenient for you to work like this, because your hair didn't bother you. He was interested to know what you looked like with your hair down, but he was in no hurry to ask you to let your hair down, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable

He invited you to his house so that you could have dinner and watch a movie together. However, in the middle of dinner, a severe thunderstorm began outside. You came to him on foot and it would have been difficult for you to get home as well. That's why Chive invited you to stay at his place for the night. He didn't want you to get hurt on the way home, and you didn't mind staying at his house overnight

After watching the movie, he gave you his T-shirt and shorts so that you would have something to change into. He was preparing a sleeping place for you while you were in the shower, and when you came out, he froze in surprise. You were wearing his clothes and your hair was disheveled and loose. It was the first time he saw you with your hair down, which reached your buttocks. You looked very homely and that made him feel warm

Looking at you sleeping next to him, he couldn't help but smile. Chive stroked your hair, watching you breathe peacefully in your sleep. Next to you, he felt the comfort of home that he had not felt for a long time. Chive hoped that this warmth would stay with you as long as possible

[yandere-metal-family]

You should do more chive/ches:)

I should! People only love Dee though :( [I did a Lif drawing lmk if yall want to see it]

Summary: Chive has a crush on Sebastian's sister

Just like his meeting with Sebastian, his with you was a complete accident

You already knew who he was, thanks to snooping on your older brother

Chive didn't even realize you were related to Sebastian and tried chatting you up like a normal person

You just looked at him funny while he was trying to win you over with his flirty personality

Color him surprised when Sebastian dragged you off, obviously annoyed that some 'amateur' beat him for first place [He was angered when seeing you talking to said amateur. He accidentally let it slip to his sister and she 'accidentally' let it slip to your father]

When your father found out he was livid. Though, not at you. He was angry at both your older siblings for letting some lowlife get close to you

"He started talking to me, not me to him"

"How could you let something like that?"

You saw how much it upset your father, so you started seeking out this 'Ches' guy

He was more than pleased to have your attention

Your brother was annoyed, because if father found out, Sebastian knew if dad found out Dad would be mad at him, not you

^Sebastian would reprimand you, so you'd get yelled at by someone

Though, this just makes you more rebellious

You start to meet him at night in hidden places

You both hang out for hours and talk

What began with rebellion turns into a genuine liking for Ches

You become really 'invested'

Until Ches and Sebastian eventually become friends

Even when they're friends, Sebastian still doesn't like him near you

"She's my baby sister! You can't date her!"

"Why not!?"

Glam looks at Ches wide eyed, "ARE YOU KIDDING? SHE'S MY SISTER!"

Ches adores Glam's Friendship, but given the choice... Well, he's in love with you not Glam

Your brother complains to you too. Saying you're to good for Ches and that Ches isn't going to treat you right [Not to mention his addictions]

This does end up bothering you, but you really like Chive

When you do end up giving him the ultimatum, he does end up quitting cold turkey, much to your brother's disappointment [While he was glad that Chive quit, he didn't like that it made your relationship with the male stronger]

"If it helps you feel better, I love your sister-"

"Yeah right. I'm sure you did. Like you loved all our fans?"

"You know it's not like that-"

"Then what is it like?"

Chive is really sweet to you

He adores listening to you talk and talk and talk

He could just listen to you for years, decades, his whole life

How has he lived his whole life without you? God, you're perfect and sometimes he feels like he doesn't deserve you

Though, when looking into your eyes his whole world, all the anxiety, depressions, fear, confusion, it all just disappears

[starandcloud]

Chive Drabble

The plan was to go over. Get something from Chive. And leave.

So... How you ended up, high off your ass, on his couch. Was a real mystery to you.

His hands rested on your waist and he kissed you softly.

"You're so preeettyyyy..."

He said, staring up and into your eyes. You were happily in his lap as he left lazy kisses on your lips and neck.

"Mn... I think I love you baby... You're so pretty and perfect and I love you..."

You blushed and looked away before he gently pulled you into a kiss, his lips were chapped but gently as his thumbs traced gentle circles into your skin.

"You're so fucking high Chive..."

You softly said as you stared down into his eyes, you kissed him softly. Feeling him melt against you, you smiled; your lips curling up against his before you gently pulled away and said.

"You're so lucky I love you..."

[fantaisyummy]

Hi! I see you write for Metal Family! Would it be possible to request Chive X reader fluff? If not, no pressure at all!

Guitars have hearts to.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Pairing: Chive x yn

Promote: his drink and wants his s/o attention.

Warning: drunk, drugs (being high).

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you and chive were on the schvagenbagen coach after getting invited to their family game night you were always invited to. How did chive get drunk (and a little high) was a mystery to everyone.. Chive was clinging on you like there was no tomorrow.

“Chive get off!”

You try pushing him off as he whines clinging on to you more hiding his face in your shoulder. You sigh shaking your heads as you put a hand in his hair running your fingers through it. His hair was soft.. you didn’t know how he did.. he didn’t even take care of it.

“I think I might love you”

chive mutters leaving soft loving kisses on your neck.

“You think you might?”

You tease him making him whine and shake his head.

“NoOoO…I love you and you’re perfect and pretty and-“

he rambling about how much he loves you you decide to cut him off

“You’re so lucky I love you.”

He lets out a small pout at your words and clings onto your shoulders

“Go to bed baby..”

You mutter softly as he cuddles up laying his head on your lap. He falls asleep as he starts loudly snoring.. you laugh softly.

You knew you wouldn’t trade this for the world. You’d never tell him that.. his heads big enough

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

A/N: sorry this is bad it’s my first time writing for metal family 😭

[fisbred]

Younger holding, one another (drabble)

pairing(s) : kitsune! scaramouche x gn! reader warn : alternative universe. what if scara was kitsune, instead yae miko. ei not lead inazuma. reader is not human. inspired by fontaine archon quest. using you/your. i'm done with grammar bro.

a/n : 5 jan is my birthday lmao, so i'm make this drabble for celebrating it!

Here again he's waiting for your presence at this place.

You come from a family that worships dragons, leaders of each region before the archons took their positions.

Every day Scara looks at you in corner of shrine room with you. He can see your obedience, pray with wisdom.

Inazuma is not currently ruled by anyone, but representatives Grand Narukami Shrine and Tri-commissions work together to manage the land of immortality.

He's also feel like there is something strange about you.

Your physique has gotten a bit more muscular over time, and your gaze is very sharp. Nothing but your eyes like a predator, a reptile to be more precise.

Even if you don't look sick, that's not right either. There comes a time every year when you feel sick, 'fever' you say.

Instead, he smelled a strong odor, more like an animal in heat.

Don't forget the scales that grow around the sides of your neck. Even if you try to cover it up, it can still be seen if you're not careful.

You are a strange human of course.

But are you really a human?

taglist : @kunikuma

[arsenicbluebell]

I kinda wanna write for metal family

Gimme ideas pls

[bouncybongfairy]

Everything & The Kitchen Sink

Butch Wolverine x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Logan promised to come home early from the bar after her shift. You make dinner and get ready only for her to come home late and drunk. This some how leads to the two of you tribbing on the counter.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Fingering, Tribbing, Nipple Play, Squirting

(THIS IS A W|W FANFIC)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were cleaning up the kitchen after making dinner. Logan was supposed to be home over an hour ago, she was working as a bouncer at a local bar. She promised you she’d come straight from work, you’d spent all day preparing for just that. Cleaning the entire apartment, did all the laundry, made dinner, ect. Took a long shower, exfoliated and moisturized. You already wrapped her plate up and stored it in the microwave. Preoccupying yourself by watching TV until you fall asleep. 

Logan carefully unlocked the door and saw you laying so still and statuesque. In comparison to what she sees at the bar all day you truly looked like an angel. The light of the television casting on you like you were glowing. She was past tipsy but not staggering or anything, she liked seeing how peaceful you were; knowing that once you woke up it’d be a completely different story. She opened the microwave and started salivating, it was her favorite. Baked potato with sour cream and chives, corn on the cob, two slabs of steak cooked medium rare, grilled shrimps and roasted carrots. 

It looked so amazing she didn’t bother heating it back up. Stuffing her face, only using utensils when she had too. She hadn’t eaten anything before or during work and drank on an empty stomach. It was like the plate was fucking glowing. Lighting the cigar she had tucked behind her ear. Too drunk to care that she was sparking up inside. She came over to you and ran her finger along your bare thigh. Wearing her tee shirt and the band of your panties peeking out. 

“Mmhm, you’re so soft,” she grumbled to herself, letting her calloused hand run up and down your skin. Stirring you awake and gently letting her body fall on top of yours. You were starting to stir awake, remembering how late Logan was. You push against her shoulders but she doesn’t care. Continuing to kiss your neck and grope your chest. The liquor and burnt smell of the cigar coming from her breath only reminded you of her loyalty to the bar. 

“You’re late,” you huffed, sitting up and trying to get out of her grip.

“Was a late night baby,” she mumbled.

“And you're drunk,” you said, successfully wiggling out of her grip. Picking up the coat she let drop on the floor when coming home. Logan took this opportunity to grip your hips and thrust herself against you. 

“So?” she laughed, pulling at the waistband of your panties and letting them snap against your skin. Entertained by how you jumped and squealed when the elastic hit you.

“I waited for a long time… I was all excited and you left me waiting..” you trail off. It sober her up a bit, knowing that you had waited for her while she lollygagged at the bar. Logan didn’t realize how much her company meant to you. Probably due to her own insecurity but she missed seeing the way she undervalued herself was affecting you. She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you to her chest. 

“I should have come right home. I’m sorry,” she said, kissing the top of your head. 

“It’s okay, I know you have a lot going on. Just promise for next time,” you said, wrapping your arms around her waist, “I’m glad you ate,” you said, noticing her dishes on the counter. 

Logan wasn’t paying attention anymore, now completely focused on running her hands down your body. She couldn’t get your smell out of her nose and it was starting to affect her self control. You were oblivious to how worked up she was becoming, Instead being off in your own little world. As much as you hated her cigar habit, the smell was somewhat comforting now as much as you complained about it. Sometimes you’d avoid washing the smoke smell off hoodies and pillow cases. You moved your hands up to her hair, brushing the loose stands out of her face. Eventually running your nails down her arms, you could feel the goosebumps form; her body hair standing somewhat making you giggle. 

She was breathing hard, especially when you looked up at her. Big doe-eyes staring up at her, eyelashes fluttering and hair messy from your nap. Logan smashed her mouth against yours, bringing her hands up to cup your face. Pressing herself against you, pinning your body to the kitchen island. Her thumbs rubbing your face as you work your tongues together. It was sloppy and getting more heated by the minute. She grabs you by the waist and sets you on the counter. Her eyes damn near boggling while watching the recoil of your breast from being sat down so hard. 

She grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it over your head, exposing your chest. Seeing her so animalistic and feral was making your stomach feel inflamed. A deep blush covering your face and neck while wetness starts to drip down your folds; Logan herself felt a heartbeat in her jeans. Your noses were pressed together and you could smell the whiskey on her breath. Normally it would bother you but it was undeniable that when Logan was drunk she didn’t hold back during sex. Normally she was more gentle, enjoying giving you pleasure. The liquor made her more brutish and unfiltered and it was so fucking hot. 

Hearing all the filth that slipped past her lips that normally went unheard due to her shyness. Using her strength against you, biting down on your soft skin with brutal force. Logan pecked your lips before moving down to your chest. Taking one of your nipples into her mouth and starts sucking and flicking her tongue. You ran your fingers through her hair and moaned loudly. Arching your back and balling your fists up in her hair. Your legs immediately begin to tremble from the pleasure. So sensitive from the anticipation that has been building in your belly all day. Resting your lips on the top of her head while groaning and whimpering into her hair. She pulled your panties to the side and used her middle finger to feel around your folds. 

Smearing your wetness all over your lips before pushing two fingers into your entrance. She was completely zoned out, having your tit in her mouth while curling and pumping her fingers in and out of you. Any time she nips at the senstative bud you tighten yourself around her fingers; only encouraging her to do it more. Your walls felt so velvety against her digits. She broke out of her daze and pulled away from you slightly to see your face and God what a sight it was. You were completely red in the face, practically panting trying to catch your breath. 

Eyebrows furrowed and nipples puffy and swollen; a light from above the kitchen island shining down on you. Making your chest glisten from the saliva covering your breast. You pulled her onto the counter to join you and started tugging at her jeans, which she quickly took off. Laying her back against the cold tile of the island. Before climbing on top of her, you sink your tongue between her folds. Spitting and flicking your tongue around, looking up to see Logan on her elbows. Cursing and sputtering while pushing herself against your mouth. Getting a little too excited you reach up and try grabbing at her chest. She snatches your wrists and pulls you towards her; now straddling her, you knees on either side of her hips.

 “I’m not that drunk,” she huffs and starts gripping your hips, prompting you to start grinding your hips. 

Now rubbing each other's sexes together, your wet folds sliding between one another. The tile was hurting your knees a bit but it didn’t stop you from quickening your pace. Finding the perfect rhythm, your clits continuously brushing against each other. Logan was arching her hips up, positioning herself so she could watch you ride her. Sitting up on her elbows and watching your tits bounce, saliva dripping onto her stomach. Too pussy-drunk to care if you were drooling or not.

“I’m cumming…” you groan out, taking her off guard.

Grabbing two handfuls of Logan's hair and pinning her fisting to the counter below you two. Your fists on either side of her head while riding out your orgasm. Squirting without stopping grinding your hips, causing the wetness to spread and spalsh all over Logan’s stomach. She immediately cums from watching you unraveling into a squirting fucked out mess. Digging her nails into your hips while thrusting her hips up, trying to get closer to you. Crying out, so overstimulated and jerking your hips forward. You collapsed on her chest, not giving a fuck about sleeping in your own wetness. Logan was too drunk to care, using the tee shirt to cover you like a blanket and falling asleep with you on her chest.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

“cream cheese” - mid meeting, Hotch crosses a line you didn’t think he would

Hotchner x gn!reader, 500 words

I’m trying blurbs! Drabbles, whatever you’d like to call them. Lmk if you like it ok love you bye

——————————

You’re sitting beside Hotch at the round table. The conference room is usually where you start the day, and today is no different - except for the fact that Penelope, bless her heart, brought everyone bagels.

It doesn’t even matter that there’s a grisly photo of a murder victim on the TV in front of you.

Compartmentalization is key when working for the BAU, so you just avoid looking at it and instead chomp down - an Asiago bagel with chive cream cheese? You eat it like a sandwich, the massive amount of cream cheese you put on it spilling out the sides.

“You’re gonna need to brush your teeth after that,” Derek said when you assembled your bagel. You just playfully flipped him off and carried on, earning a chuckle from Hotch - Aaron, he insists you call him.

Being your boss’s significant other does not have the perks that the movies say it would. He does not show you special treatment on a daily basis, nor does he pull you off to the side for spontaneous interludes in the middle of the day. Hotch is very black and white. He likes rules. He likes sticking to those rules.

And you love him for it.

“What’s the geographical distance between the first two victims?” You ask as you glance down at your paperwork.

Spencer spouts off the answer like he memorized it on a flash card the night before, and you quietly thank him. You open your mouth to ask another question, but the feeling of a thumb swiping across your upper lip stops you from speaking.

You freeze, looking up slowly and turning your head to the culprit. Aaron’s thumb catches a chunk of cream cheese, and he wipes it off onto a nearby napkin. You’re completely flabbergasted by this, for the very straightforward reason that Aaron does not touch you at work. He doesn’t even let you rest your head on his shoulder on the jet.

Your eyes meet Aaron’s and your cheeks turn immediately red. “You were about to lose it,” Aaron explains softly. He seems to be shocked by his own actions. You can tell by the way his eyes soften. He doesn’t blush, though, and you kind of hate him for it.

Your gaze darts to the rest of the team.

Spencer is totally oblivious to what has happened, but Derek leans back in his chair with a smirk in his face, Emily and JJ are grinning at each other, and Penelope is very clearly stifling a giggle.

Rossi is the one who breaks the awkward silence. “Twenty miles between victims one and two, that’s fascinating,” he proposes.

Aaron clears his throat and looks at you briefly. It’s a fleeting expression, but you will forever have it ingrained in your brain - his lips curled in the smallest smirk, a twinkle in those dark brown eyes. As he turns in his chair to scoot closer to the table, you feel the tips of his fingers just barely graze your thigh.

“Right, let’s debrief more on the jet,” he suggests, stacking his folders efficiently and rising from his desk chair. “Wheel’s up in 30.”

[star-sim]

say it back! ☆ jay park

☆ non-idol! bf! jay x fem! reader ☆ summary: jay thinks you're really cute, especially when you're mad. ☆ genre: fluff!! implied college! au / young adult! au , super domestic and cutesy ☆ warning(s)? nope! ☆ word count: 1.1k ☆ after supermassive blackhole i realized just how many jay stans followed me, so eat up guys 😛

It was a Friday evening. The sun was beginning to set, casting a vibrant peach-orange glow over Jay’s apartment.

With a navy-blue apron hanging loosely from his neck, Jay took in the scent of garlic chives and caramelized onions marinating in the pan. With a spatula, he popped in a lump of gochujang, stirring in the hot, red paste.

If Jay had to be honest, he spent most of his time just touching you, his girlfriend. Not in a sexual way. Any physical touch with you was more than enough. Whether it be cuddling on the couch or you clinging onto him while he did things, the intimacy of having skin-on-skin contact was everything.

On days like this, Jay was the one cooking dinner. Not-so-surprising, you were an absolute mess in the kitchen, so he took on that responsibility. You should be home soon. You had taken up an internship a weeks ago, so you had to stay just a tad later than usual.

As Jay immersed himself in the gorgeous aromas of his craft, he thought of what he should do with you later.

He could watch a movie with you, but knowing you, you would probably be all over him. He never expected you to be the clingy, needy type, doing whatever you could to snuggle up against his warm body. Jay’s lips parted before spreading into a gummy grin. He could imagine your voice:

“Baaabe,” you would whine, plopping yourself in between his legs. You would tangle your arms with his, or maybe you'd place his hands in your hair and make him play with it.

If his eyes were glued to the TV for long enough, you would pout, before peppering soft kisses against his neck. Jay would pretend to ignore you, making you whine again. 

“Give me attention,” you would murmur against his ear. 

Oh man, Jay felt giddy and warm inside just thinking about it. 

What he wouldn’t do just to have you come home already—

The door clicked open.

“I’m home!”

Speak of the devil and you will appear.

Jay heard a few footsteps and a giggle before feeling arms slither around his torso. 

“Hi,” you mumbled against his back. 

Jay grinned. “Hi, Angel.”

You peeked over his shoulder, taking in the scent of his cooking. “Smells good.”

“Go wash up, baby,” Jay said. “I’m almost done.”

“Okayyy,” you squeezed his waist. You gave Jay a small peck on the cheek. You drawled, “I love youuuu!”

Jay hummed. 

He heard you huff. 

“I love you,” you repeated.

“Mhm.”

There’s a pulse of silence before you pulled away, leaving him alone.

When you left, he couldn’t help but smile so stupidly. 

You were going to drive him crazy. 

You were so cute, and adorable, and pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous, and precious, and everything that he loved. He wanted to hold you in his arms forever and kiss you forever and be with you forever and-

How many kids should you and him have? He’d always wanted two boys and a girl, but he wouldn’t mind having more. Later down the line, when you and him got older, he’d buy you a pretty diamond ring— in fact, he’d buy you everything that you’ve ever wanted. And then you and him will get married and buy a house. Would you take his last name? [Name] Park didn’t sound too bad. People would call you Mrs. Park, and instead of calling you by your first name, Jay would refer to you as “my wife,” and—

He was feeling dizzy just thinking about it. Was he getting ahead of himself?

“Are you mad at me?” your voice suddenly said.

Jay jumped. He whipped his head around to see you with your arms crossed and a big, sulky frown.

Were you standing there the whole time?

“B-Babe, I thought you went to the bathroom…”

You shook your head. 

“Are you mad at me?” you repeated. Taking a few steps forward, you turned him around, pressing him up against the kitchen counter while holding his hands together.

“Wait, what?” Jay’s brows knitted together. “Baby, where is this coming from?”

“You…” you began, averting your gaze. “You didn’t say it back.”

Jay cocked his head. “Say what back?”

You huffed. “I said I love you, and you didn’t say it back.”

You tilted your head so that he couldn’t see your pouty face, playing with his fingers. You murmured something under your breath, something that he couldn’t quite hear.

Jay stared at you for a few seconds, processing everything. And then, he threw his head back, loud bouts of laughter emitting from his lips. Every time that he would calm down and look at you, your sulky face would make him burst back into his fit of giggles.

“It’s not funny!” you slapped his shoulder, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment. When he wouldn’t stop laughing, you turned away, punching him on the arm, “You’re a jerk, Jay.”

At that, Jay immediately stopped laughing.

“Wait, I’m sorry!” Jay clasped your hands in his, pulling you close to him so that you were flushed against his chest. 

You frowned. 

“It's too late to apologize,” you mumbled.

Jay almost chuckled at your grumpiness, but stopped himself before you’d be even more upset with him.

You stayed like that for a few moments: Jay holding you close against the kitchen counter, fingers loosely intertwined.

Finally, Jay poked your cheek.

“Hey!”

“Don’t be mad at me, Angel.”

Your frown deepened.

Jay sighed.

Bringing a large hand up, he gently grabbed your face, bringing it closer.

“What are you-”

Jay began littering chaste kisses all across your face– he started at your cheek, moved up to your forehead, down your nose, to your other cheek, and lastly to your chin, where he teased you by kissing just close enough to your lips. He exaggerated by making loud kissy noises to further rile you up.

“Stoooooppp,” you whined, but made no attempt to resist him.

Jay let out a low chuckle. He cupped your cheeks. He ghosted his lips over yours, reveling in the way that you automatically closed your eyes and wet your lips in anticipation. He contemplated whether or not he should pull away to tease you, but decided against it. 

Who was he to deny you?

When your lips met, you let out an excited squeal, squeezing his bicep. When you guys pulled away, Jay breathed against your lips, “I love you.”

“Baby...” you mewled, sliding your hands up his chest to hook around his neck.

“I love you,” he repeated himself, leaning in to give your lips a peck. “I love you so fucking much.”

You giggled softly, your breath brushing against his cheek. “I love you, too.”

[shalotttower]

Will-o'-the-wisp

Title: Will-o'-the-wisp

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader (female)

Summary: Reader encouters fae!Chrollo and breaks some rules along the way.

Word count: 1700+

Notes: yandere!Chrollo, fae!Chrollo, abduction, manipulation, AU, modern setting with fae, Chrollo is charming af and a bit creepy as usual, Reader is doomed long before they know it and slightly depressed

You walk home the same way every day, like many people do. There's comfort in routines. Comfort and security which you crave. The familiar routes, the repetitive programs on TV and the books you've read a million times. You like to know what happens next and hate surprises.

The fourteen-year-old you wouldn't approve.

Maybe even express a little pity, because she always thought you two were destined for an adventure, like in fantasy books you used to devour one after another. Every free second was spent reading or dreaming, but life went on and adventures didn't happen. The girl grew older, a lot more careful and a lot less hopeful.

When you finish work, it's usually around six. Your adult self is practical and prefers to save money on the bus, besides, every other time you take it, you end up having to stand, squeezed between people. It's not worth the frustration; a fifteen minute walk isn't that long and the crime rate in the area is low.

There's a small grove nearby that nobody has bothered to turn into a park. The residents made their own paths in time, put a few signs so the joggers wouldn't get lost, but that's it. Once or twice a month you stroll through there, picking up trash left on the side. People make you want to move to the woods altogether sometimes.

That's how the day starts or ends — with crossing a bridge which connects the grove to your neighbourhood.

And this is where you see him for the first time.

The man looks so out of place among the rustic wooden railings and rushing water below. Nobody wears this kind of clothes here. Expensive and elegant, something that blends well in a big city. They don't stare at passersby like he does either. You hate when people do that ─ block already narrow spaces by just stopping midway. Or groups who spread across the entire sidewalk.

"Excuse me," you say politely. Polite is good. Polite can be used as a shield and always makes you look better than you are. "I need to pass."

He smiles, then moves aside. "Of course."

His face is exactly what you imagine when thinking of pleasant: beautiful grey eyes with long lashes, pointed chin and a strange mix of delicate and sharp edges.

"Thank you."

The smile widens. "You're welcome."

---

It's time to accept that you've grown into an average person with a simple desire to live in comfort. Dreaming isn't your strength anymore, the last book you picked up was several years ago. Movies bore you fifteen minutes in, even if everybody else praises them; the idea of a relationship seems exhausting.

You do enjoy gardening.

Growing tomatoes is a far cry from distant fictional lands, but they taste nice with a pinch of salt.

The condo you live in doesn't have enough space and light, so you chose a small patch of ground in the grove to start a garden. A few tomato plants and some herbs like chives and basil. It might be illegal, yet nobody has come to yell at you. Most people don't pay attention to what's happening here, as long as you don't damage the trees or leave trash.

You water and prune, weed, add fertilizer if needed. There're some flowers too; mother told you that marigolds scare pests away from veggies and keep the soil healthy. They're pretty, little orange spots.

---

You find a crystal at you patch. Azure would be too bland to describe its color ─ maybe more like a mix of cerulean and moon stone. It's round in shape, polished so nicely that the outlines of your face are reflected in the surface. Did a magpie bring it? Or a kid? The thought of someone poking around your garden makes you frown. You hope they didn't step on your basil.

The stone is heavy and cool. You turn it around, entranced, before stuffing it into the pocket of your jeans. Maybe you can ask the neighbours' kids about it later.

"Would you look at that," you mutter and bend to inspect a tomato plant. Two green fruit, each no bigger than your knuckle, hang there, sprouted over the weekend. "Hello, my pretties."

---

You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It's past 1 AM, you should sleep; instead, you keep twisting the stone in the moonlight.

You asked kids from around here, but nobody claimed it.

Maybe it's a lucky charm, you've had a wonderful day. Got a call from your cousin in the morning, she has't contacted you in a long while and it was nice to catch up. After lunch, the resource manager praised your work, then an elderly lady from the store complimented your cardigan.

At a certain angle, the stone seems almost glowing. A summer night sky condensed into a tiny orb. Your fingers trace its smooth surface without much thought until eventually it drops onto the pillow by your side.

You don't notice when exactly you fall asleep.

It's the strangest dream you've ever seen.

Gone is the condo building with its stuffy kitchenette and old pipes that constantly rumble. Instead, you feel damp grass underneath your feet. Wind brushes through the hem of your nightdress, carrying the scents of rain and moss. So many shades of black and raven blue swirl together that you barely recognize a signpost nearby. It's the grove, but you've never seen it like this, as dark as it can be only at night.

It's uncomfortable to stand barefoot, with a chill creeping up your legs.

After a while your fingers touch the rough bark of a nearby tree to get a sense of direction, and you start walking, because there isn't anything else to do.

There's the bridge, you think. If you just get to the bridge, the rest will be simple.

You're walking there, or that's what you think when a small ball of light appears right before your nose.

Fireflies don't glow blue. It doesn't falter, doesn't flicker, coming up closer then farther like a pendulum. There's something uncanny and fragile about it. For a second you forget everything and stand mesmerized, until it starts moving.

Through the trees, past the branches, onwards.

It's more instinctual than anything ─ you don't want to be left here alone again, so you follow. Light is good, darkness isn't. The ground becomes more uneven as you go, the grass changes to moss, but you can barely register anything at this point apart from that lonely glow. It halts at times as if making sure you're keeping up.

Is that a clearing ahead? Your eyes hurt from trying to focus.

The blue dot continues to float, never speeding up, never falling behind.

Then it disappears.

No. Not disappears ─ settles on the tip of a pale finger.

There's your tomato patch, your plants, the empty box that you forgot to take back to the condo.

But it's impossible.

Your garden should be not very far from the border, yet it feels like you've walked through half of the grove by now.

Why is he here?

"It took you a while," he says, the stranger from the bridge whose eyes made you pause before you caught yourself. "I was waiting, my dear."

Maybe you shouldn't ask. Maybe the wisest thing would be to turn around and run. You step back and trip on a root which somehow snuck between the moss. He catches your hand before you fall and doesn't let go. Instead his thumb caresses your skin in leisurely strokes.

There's a faint scent of lilies coming from him, and something else. Something heavy, equally sweet that lingers on the edge of cloying and enticing.

Smells aren't supposed to be so strong in dreams.

"I need to go."

"Where?"

This simple question asked in an equally plain tone makes you falter. What does he mean 'where'?

"Home," you say softly and try to free your hand again without success. The man leans in close enough that you can see his face, illuminated by that blue light.

"And where is home?"

"I-" you swallow. "I have to go."

He releases you with surprising ease; you don't waste any time rushing towards the path. The long walk has exhausted you, and the lack of light makes it difficult to tell which turns to take. You stumble multiple times. The hem of your nightdress catches a few twigs. You sprint past the trees, past the low bushes along the familiar trail, and it's there, suddenly in front of you: the wooden bridge.

Out of breath, you grab the railing. And then open your eyes on the same side where you started.

How?

Again and again, you dash across it, yet every time there's a single step left to cross over the stream, the view shifts. Your feet land at the beginning of the bridge. On the ninth time when it's impossible to run any longer, you press your forehead to the railing. Every breath feels short and raspy.

"That's enough, dear."

"What is this?" You grip the planks with trembling hands. "I don't understand. Why can't I-"

A coat falls over your shoulders; you clutch at it mindlessly, because it's warm and you're shaking all over.

"You thanked me. Claimed my land, charmingly audacious of you. Such care and love, right under my nose."

There's no malice in his voice. Gently, finger by finger, he uncurls the tight grip of your hand. The stone is there, cerulean blue like summer sky condensed into a tiny orb.

"Took my gift and kept it close to your heart."

It takes some effort but eventually you manage to speak. "I didn't," you whisper urgently, despite the shiny proof in your palm. "I didn't know! Take it back."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that."

"I didn't know!"

He lifts you in his arms when your knees give out and you sink to the ground, still gripping that damned stone. His coat carries the same distinct scent of lilies and heavy sweetness. The sceneries you dreamed of when younger pop in your head, like old postcards covered with dust, of mystical beings hidden from human eye, fantastical places no one has seen, grand adventures where heroes defy impossible odds and come out victorious.

Those were tales for the brave and imaginative. You're neither.

"It doesn't matter. The land claims you," he says. "And so do I."

[vikkirosko]

Hi, enjoy reading your writing every single day. If it isn't too much can I ask for heck cannons, with Glam, Chive, and Dee reacting to finding out that their fem s/o is pregnant. How would they react? What would they do when s/o is dealing with morning sickness? How would they react to feeling the baby? And how would they react to seeing the small baby bump for the first? Sorry if I overdid it I'm just really curious and Metal Family is one of my favorite animated series.

Headcanons Pregnancy

💖 Glam x fem!Reader 🎸

Glam has always taken family planning seriously. He was in no hurry to propose to you, and even more so to have children. He didn't tell you, but secretly he was afraid that he would become like his father. The last thing Glam wanted for his children was such a future. But when you told him that you were pregnant, he was happy. He had never imagined this moment before, but he was genuinely happy that you two would have a baby

Glam took this issue very seriously. He started studying books about pregnancy and also looking for a home for you. The term of your pregnancy was still quite small, so you had time to prepare for everything, but pretty quickly the first signs of pregnancy began and nausea became the main one. You started to feel sick even from the smells of food that you usually liked. Glam cooked healthy food for you and made sure that you ate well and followed the regime

When your pregnancy period became a little longer, you got a small tummy. It was as if it was proof that the fact that you were expecting a baby was not a dream. Every time he put his palm on your stomach, he felt sincere happiness. He never thought that expecting a child would be such a joyful and exciting event in his life. You were preparing for the birth of a child together, buying everything you need and preparing a nursery in your new home

The closer the day when you were supposed to give birth became, the more he was sure that you would have absolutely nothing like it was in his childhood. He intended to be a better father than his father was. He wanted to make you and your child happy, so that you didn't need anything and that you had the best of everything

📚 Dee x fem!Reader 📱

You and Dee have never thought about children. You were about to graduate from high school and go to university and you both thought to focus on this, but your plans went to waste when you, clearly excited, told me that you were pregnant. You were practically panicking about it. You were afraid of what Dee might say, you had no idea how to tell your parents about it and you didn't know what to do, so Dee hurried to calm you down. He wasn't going to break up your relationship, especially now that you were pregnant

You sat together for a long time and discussed your plan of action. You understood that hiding your pregnancy would not work for too long, but Dee firmly decided that he would take responsibility and that together you would be able to combine studying and raising a child. You have been thinking for a long time about how to tell your parents about this, but your body itself reported it when you started toxicosis. Your parents were shocked that you were pregnant, and only the fact that the father of the child was Dee calmed them a little, because they knew Dee as a smart and responsible guy whom you loved and who loved you

Right after graduation, you bought an apartment. You had savings and your parents added money to you and now you could prepare for replenishment. When you got a little tummy, Dee was ready to cry. He would never admit to you that your pregnancy caused him so many emotions, but you yourself saw how his expression changed when you looked at your little tummy in the morning

You and Dee had a lot of difficulties ahead of you that you had to overcome together. You had no idea how you needed to raise a child and how to combine it with studying, but you were not going to stop. You were scared, and even though he didn't admit it, Dee was scared too. But you were sure that together you could handle everything

🧄 Chive x fem!Reader 🎸

You and Chive have been together for a long time and there has never been a conversation about children between you. It seemed like something far away than something that could happen to someone else, but not to you. However, when you started to feel sick often, Chive joked that you were pregnant. You both took it as a joke until you took a pregnancy test and it turned out that you were really pregnant. You were both surprised, but Chive quickly changed from surprise to joy. Even though your pregnancy was not planned, but you were still happy

You and Chive didn't really know how to raise children, but you had a home and a job and you could provide your unborn baby with everything necessary. He tried to help you cope with nausea as well as with a hangover, but this method did not work very well, so we had to look for new methods. When you went to the hospital together, they looked at you askance, as if you were guilty of something, but you didn't pay attention to their looks. Sometimes passersby also looked askance at you, but you didn't care about it

Gradually, the duration of your pregnancy has become longer and you have a small tummy. Chive began to touch your tummy often and smile. Then he started talking to the baby in your tummy. You laughed softly, saying that your baby was still too young and couldn't hear him, but Chive kept talking, and when Glam visited you, he proudly told his best friend that you were expecting a baby

You and Chive weren't model parents, but he was going to be the best father for your child. He remembered his childhood well, he remembered his mother who was often drunk and with whom he often quarreled, so he wanted your child to never experience what he himself experienced at the time

[yandere-metal-family]

Could you pretty please do a romantic Chiv x Reader where the reader comes out as N-N-N-

NON-BINARY🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

But yes I think Chiv would he so supportive and I Headcanon him as pan cause he’s my silly little guy

He is very yippee

Lol yeah of course. I love how you did that, though I thought it was going somewhere else [Lol feel like this ask is because of my post]

Chive always seemed a little 💅🏻 so you felt safe telling him. Besides, since you both were dating, you wanted him to be the first to know

"Chive"

^ "Sup"

^ "I'm Nonbinary"

^ "Hi Nonbinary, I'm Pan."

Yes, he would make a dad joke, while also coming out to you

He'd correct people before you can even process if someone's misgendered you

He's really chill and lay back and makes sure everyone in the band refers to you as they/them

He'd get snappy if someone's trying to argue with him about it

^ He'll 100% argue for you and go overboard about it

^The guy could be 10x his size, but you can bet Chive is going to come at them like a chihuahua with every other dog

He wants to tell you every nonbinary joke he can [That are actually funny and not offensive]

Though I can also see him making an offensive joke when being an absolute idiotic high bastard

He was never good when in that situation in life

Though, you are lucky Glam will back you up when Chive would get like that

Thank god he's gotten better and makes sure to talk to you about it to make sure you're okay

No matter what happens, he will always love you, because you loved him in his worse

And you deserve the best

Though sometimes he doesn't feel like he's good enough for you

But he's so inlove with you that he could never lose you/let you go

[starandcloud]

Bites and Bubbles

It was a lazy day, music played in the background. You hummed softly as you cooked. Your hips swayed softly as the spatula pushed through the tomato sauce. You were making spaghetti, it was an easy dinner, since you didn’t feel like cooking. The click of the front door being shut made you aware of someone, and the arms that wrapped around your waist let you know who it was.

“Welcome home baby, how was work?”

A groan made you laugh as you turned the stove off.

“That bad?”

“Mhm…”

“What about practice…”

Another groan reached your ears, turning around in his arms. His head was buried in your neck as you ran your hands through his hair.

“Oh my baby… Just that bad of a day?”

You asked as you kissed the top of his head.

“Want you…” “I’m here, my big baby…” “No…”

Chive said as he lifted his head, his eyes were glazed over with lust. His gaze made you shiver as a blush crept over your cheeks.

“I want you baby…”

He mumbled out as he pulled you closer, one of his hands crept down to your ass and gave the flesh a firm squeeze making you bite your lip.

“Please baby… Please I fucking need you…”

You slightly pull away, your blush growing as you heard his begs.

“Ches… Dinners cooking I-”

“Dinner can wait, we can warm it up, Baby I need you so fucking bad please…”

You hadn’t realized he had backed up against the counter until you felt the chilled wood against your back. His lips were soft against, a sweet and innocent kiss. You knew he would never force you into anything but… Fuck it. You were so fucking pent up. His hand sliding under your shirt and resting on your skin, brought a soft moan from you. His lips connected to your neck, softly peppering kisses on your skin. The kisses slowly turned into gentle bites and soft sucking. Chive made sure to leave dark marks on your neck, he loved leaving marks on your skin. It got out of hand a few times, but you didn’t really mind.

His fingers dug into your skin as he picked you up. You didn’t go far, just up on the counter, but that action made your thoughts race. EAch on getting more and more perverted, your blush grew and you were out of it until cold air hit your chest. You shivered and a soft moan left your lips as chive’s lips swallowed your areolas.

“Fuck… Just like that…”

You praised, making Ches whine. His fingers worked on the buttons on your pants. His mouth left your body just long enough for your pants and underwear to come off. His eyes wandered over your body, taking in your beauty. Off came his shirt.

WIth his lips on your neck, he pushed two fingers into you, a gentle moan fell from your lips. He was gentle at first, gently stretching you, but how he was purposely abusing your G-Spot.

“That’s it, there we go, such a good girl~”

Chive praised as your nails raked down his make, making him grown into your neck. He always knew when you were close.

You’d get whine

Your legs would try to close

Your moans would become more broken

Your eyes would get glossy

And the most obvious one?

You’d clench around him and dig your nails into his skin, wherever they may be.

Your nails dug into his shoulders and your cunt tightened around him.

“Awe… Don’t tell me you’re gonna cum so soon?”

His voice was low and teasing as he bit your earlobe gently. You couldn’t answer him as his fingers pushed themselves deeper into you.

“You’re adorable Princess~ Well? Go ahead, cum for me. Show me how good I’m making you feel~”

His voice and words sent you over the edge. Cumming onto his fingers, a broken moan flew from your lips, which was followed by “fuck”s and his name.

“There you go babydoll~”

He praised as he continued to finger-fuck you through your high. Your whimperes and whines becoming progressively more and more whorish as his fingers overwhelmed your, now, sensitive cunt.

“Mmmnnn… Baby… to much…”

He kissed yor. Rough and sloppy as his hand danced up your pipne and gently gripped the base of your neck.

“You little Liar.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine.

“You can take more. I know you can, Cause you’re just a cock-drunk little whore. I know damn well that if I don’t fuck that pretty cunt until you’re reduced to nothing but a whining little mess… My baby won’t be able to focus right and she’ll do bad on her tests and at work. And that’d be bad, wouldn’t it?”

Ches asked as he gripped your chin and rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip. All you could do was nod stupidly. Chive laughed as he stared into your eyes. His hand gently moved to your cheek, his thumb caressing your chin as you relaxed and leaned into his touch.

The soft touch was so deceiving as his fingers were still buried deep inside you. Which he took advantage of.

His fingers curled up and into your G-Spot, making your back arched and a whimper come from you.

Cuddled up in the bathtub, you tiredly smiled as Chive washed your body off. Your body was littered with hickies and bite marks, his back didn’t look much better. You had left long scratch mates down his back and small bruises were forming on his lower back from how harshly you had dug your heels into his back.

A gentle kiss was pressed to the top of your head, making you smile stupidly.

“You did so good, Little One, go to sleep. I’ll finish washing you up and in the morning I’ll make you some tea and some breakfast in bed. Alright?”

You nodded sleepily and started to fall asleep in the warmth of the bath water and the soothing sensation of his hand sliding against your back was enough to lull you off to sleep.

[shinysobi]

pretty u

summary: when joshua, your best friend gets engaged, you can't help but feel as though you're missing out on something important. jihoon, your other best friend, kindly offers to set you up with one of his many friends. chaos ensues, seungkwan is an observer who knows everything, and unfortunately, mingyu is a hapless victim.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, angst

word count: 10k~ish

warnings: alcohol consumption, general warnings apply

a/n: angst central again lmao but there's something good for everyone ig hehe also dedicated to gigi, who's been the first reader of this hehe

a/n 2: reblogs/comments/likes are, as always, much appreciated! tell me if you like it lmao

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

Chapter 3

I learnt, at a very young age, that the best thing to do in any situation, is to ultimately do nothing. If you do nothing, then you will never fail. I’ve managed to spend my entire life doing the bare minimum, but right now? Right now, with Jihoon’s face half a feet away from mine, close enough for me to see the dried tears on his cheeks, I begin to wonder if it’s the best thing to do.

“You should say something,” Jihoon says, wiping his face, “I didn’t run half a mile uphill just for you to say nothing.”

What does he actually want me to say? I’ve furiously racked my brain to find the correct words to say to him; in the aftermath of the argument, but I’ve always come up empty. Its odd, and strangely humbling, this experience. Should I even say something? Am I allowed to? Jihoon stares at me, and it’s only then that I realise, he’s still holding my hands.

“I’m sorry.” I say, “I’m sorry for everything I said that night.”

“No, you were right. I shouldn’t have forced all those decisions on you when you were not—are not ready.” Jihoon says, “but I really can’t imagine myself in a world where I am not your friend.”

He leans down, picking up a plant, “for your kitchen garden. Your chive plant died last month.”

I take it from him, the lingering warmth of his hands on my skin, “this is your idea of a housewarming gift?”

“This is all I could get at such short notice,” he replies, “all the other stores were closed, so I got this from a street vendor.”

“That’s—unexpectedly sweet of you, Jihoon,” I say, turning to place the pot on the floor, “do you want to come in?”

Jihoon nods, before slipping off his shoes and his jacket, entering my still-unfurnished house. All of a sudden, I’m self-conscious about the state of the place, even if he has seen worse. What am I doing, getting worked up over Jihoon entering my home?

“Look,” he begins, standing in the middle of the kitchen, “these past few weeks have been a personal kind of hell for me. I know you don’t care, but I’m just putting it out there. Life without you, without seeing you every day, without talking to you, has been hell, and I don’t want to live in it anymore.”

“Jihoon,” I begin, but he holds up a hand, silencing me.

“I’ve felt like shit, knowing that you’re just out of my reach, to the point where even if I reach for you, you won’t be able to see me, to talk to me, to be the kind of person I know and love, and it’s been excruciating, having to live with that knowledge.”

“Jihoon, what are you trying to get at?”

He takes a deep breath, as if readying himself for something horrible, “what I mean to say, is that I lied.”

“What? You lied about what, Jihoon?”

“It’s about—” he throws up his hands, “don’t you have any alcohol around here? Why do I have to have this conversation with you while sober?”

“Jihoon, I just moved in today. Of course, I don’t have alcohol, you idiot.” I cross my arms over my chest, “if you have nothing else to say, then you should leave. It’s getting late, and I have a lot of work left to do around the house tomorrow. If all you came here for was to apologise  then it’s fine, I accept your apology—”

“Damn, woman, will you let me finish? I’m trying to get at something!”

“Well then, get at it faster!”

“I lied about getting over you!”

One thing I hate about this apartment is how silent it is.  In my previous apartment, at all times of the night, there would be someone making a noise, and I hated how it would disturb my sleep. Right now, there’s silence. There’s silence and then there’s us, standing in the half-dark. Jihoon looks like he wants to say something, but has been holding himself back. 

“What-what do you mean?” I say, after what seems like a lifetime, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I said that I lied about getting over you. I liked you back when I was doing my military service, and I still like you now.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I can assure you, I’m just as serious about this as I am with my work.”

“Then are you saying—”

“I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time, and I think I’ll continue liking you for a long time.”

“Jihoon, I don’t like you like that.”

“I know,” Jihoon looks pained, and for the first time in my life, I want to lie and say that no, Jihoon, I like you too, but I can’t, “look, my feelings are my own. You don’t have to reciprocate them. You and I are separate people, and I don’t want to impose my feelings on you.”

“Then why did you say all this?” my voice communicates all my frustration, “then why did you come here and tell me all this, if you didn’t want to sway me? You were the person who kept telling me to move on, and now you come here and tell me this?”

“Because I felt like I was dying!” Jihoon yells, “not talking to you, not seeing you, not being able to text you, all this made me feel like I was dying. I didn’t tell you anything because I wanted to preserve our friendship, but when I can’t see you around, my heart feels as though it’s stopped functioning. All I could think about was you.”

“Jihoon,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t betray my frustrations, “you don’t like me in a romantic light.”

“Don’t presume my feelings.”

“I’m not! I’m just pointing out that we have been friends for a long time, and that your feelings for me might just be you overthinking your feelings of friendship and thinking its something else when really, its just friendship. I don’t think you like me romantically, Jihoon. I think you’re just confused.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything for a long time. I would have felt better if he had cursed me, or if he had become angry, but all that remains of Jihoon right now, in this moment, is someone whose feelings are replaced with—just nothing.

Jihoon checks his watch, “look, it’s late, you should get some sleep.”

He turns around,  opening the door, and pauses for a moment before turning around. “I don’t care if you’ve stopped, or if you’re terrified of moving forward. I’ll stay there with you until you’re ready. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“And another thing.”

“Yes?” I ask, voice cracking in the middle of the word. This is going to haunt me in my nightmares.

“Your dream,” Jihoon says, hand on the door handle, “I’ll help you fulfil it. No matter what it takes.”

—

Seungkwan is at my door the next morning, even before I’m fully dressed, carrying a box of Jeju oranges. Even before I can open the door fully, he’s in my apartment, staring at my face. 

“My mom sent these for you, by the way,” he says, then takes a look at my face, “whoa, Sunbae, you look like you haven’t slept all night.”

“I know, I know,”  I mutter, “just had some things to think about, that’s all.”

“Think about?” Seungkwan starts to unpack my crockeries, “you look like hell. I’m not kidding, you look awful.”

“Wow, thanks, Seungkwan, that sounds like a great compliment.” I mutter, settling down into a chair, “coming into my home on a Saturday and telling me I look ugly, way to make a girl feel great.”

“I’m not being sarcastic, I’m concerned. There’s a difference.” He sits in the chair next to mine, “is there anything I can help with?”

“Seungkwan, you’re sweet, but this is something I can’t really talk about.” I mutter, “some things aren’t meant to be shared with everyone.”

And really, what can I say? ‘oh, don’t worry, Seungkwan, my best friend since university, the person with whom I haven’t been talking to for the past few weeks, came to my apartment last night to confess that he had feelings for me?’ How does one even begin that conversation? Not to mention the embarrassment that Jihoon would face if I were to ever spill the beans to the guys. He’s always been intensely private, even in his romantic affairs. To spill his secrets would just be cruel.

It's really, really not as though I haven’t received romantic confessions. There have been people who have asked me out, who have said that they liked me, from university classmates to people at work. Even in school, when all I could think about were university entrance examinations, and how I had to get into a university in Seoul because that was where my sister went too, I had a few people tell me they had feelings for me, I have had people get angry when I turned them down, I’ve had people get sad when I said, no, I’m sorry. Yet, all this feels new. What do you actually say when someone you’ve known for years, tells you that they hold feelings for you? What is the appropriate thing to say, especially if you don’t know what your own feelings are?

“You know, I grew up with three older sisters, right?”

“Yes, you keep reminding me of it every other day.”

“Yes, so,” Seungkwan leans forward, inspecting my face, “you look like you’ve got something weighing down on your mind. And while I might not be Joshua-hyung or Jihoon-hyung, I can be a pretty good listener.”

“No, I don’t think I can tell you this. It’s not my secret to tell, and even then, I don’t want to burden you with something that shouldn’t be your responsibility in the first place.”

“Sunbae,” Seungkwan asks, “does this have anything to do with Jihoon-hyung?”

I stare at him. “When did you get so fucking perceptive?”

“So, it is,” he leans back in his chair, self-satisfied and smug as hell, “I knew it. I knew he’d do something like this.”

“You knew?” I ask, and Seungkwan nods, “you knew, and you didn’t think of telling me? not even once? Not even a single heads-up?”

“And? What would we even say? ‘Jihoon-hyung likes you, please be advised he might try to confess his feelings?’ Would you have even liked it?”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” I shake my head, “really? This is something everyone knew about?”

Seungkwan nods, “I think most of us are aware of Jihoon-hyung’s feelings towards you, given how he acts.”

I hold up a hand, “Wait, pause. How he acts? What do you mean, how he acts? I’ve never seen him be anything other than perfectly normal with me.”

“That’s the problem with you,” Seungkwan clarifies, “your baseline is different when it comes to Jihoon-hyung. He treats you much more differently than he does all of us, and you’ve never noticed? Not even once?”

“No, clearly, I haven’t, Seungkwan, explain.”

Seungkwan takes a deep breath, as if trying to gather his thoughts into a proper sequence, and begins, “well, for once, he always does what you want, even if he is initially against it. With anyone else? You can’t even convince him to lift a single finger, but he drove all the way to the restaurant that one time, dropping the recording for Soonyoung’s new album. Sure, he didn’t get in trouble, but he did that just because you called.”

“He ran out of a recording session?” I have to repeat myself, because in all the years that I have known Jihoon, he’s always put his work before everything else. In university, he spent days and nights in the makeshift recording studio he had in his home, only venturing out to get food once every two days. Even his recording studio was off-limits to us, until he had finished working on a project. That Jihoon left Soonyoung in the middle of a recording session to come pick me up because I was drunk? “Should I apologise to Soonyoung?”

“The only person you should be apologising to, is me,” Seungkwan send me a dirty look that would have anyone else cringing, “I come here to help you unpack and decorate your home, and this is what I have to hear?”

“You’re a traitor. You’ve been hiding Jihoon’s feelings from me for god knows how long, and now you expect me to be nice to you? Get a grip on yourself.”

“This is,” Seungkwan wags a finger at me, “this is just shooting the messenger. You think the others haven’t kept his secret from you?”

“What? Even Jeonghan-oppa? He’s betrayed me too?”

Seungkwan smiles, “there are no allies in this stupid game you both are playing. We’ve all known about his feelings ever since he came back from the military and hung up that stupid photo of the two of you on his wall. He would have had it framed it if the quality wasn’t like it was taken on a microwave.”

I think about the picture, Jihoon with the flat cap and me beside him, flashing a wide, toothy smile. “He tried to get it framed?”

“Seungcheol-hyung had to talk him out of it, because it’s insane, having a picture of another girl framed and putting in your bedroom while you’re trying to get a girlfriend is not the best thing to do, in retrospect.”

“Ah yes, wasn’t this when he was dating the music major? The intern at the office?” I’m trying to keep my voice light, but unfortunately, I know everything about his past relationships, the serious and the casual. The girls at university, the intern he dated for a month before she dumped him, and the office worker who he dated for a year before she finally grew sick of him and left. “I don’t remember them that well.”

“Liar. You remember every detail.” Seungkwan grins, “just like Jihoon-hyung can recite the names of all your exes backwards if he wanted to, “You remember every detail about all of Jihoon-hyung’s relationships. Yes, this was when he was dating the intern, and Seungcheol-hyung pointed out that it probably would not be the best look to frame a picture of the girl your girlfriend hates, and put it in your bedroom where you could see it every morning and every night.”

“May we all thank Seungcheol-oppa for his infinite wisdom.” I say, and Seungkwan gives me a high five, “wait, she hated me? but I was nice to her! And not fake nice, which is what I generally am, I was actually nice to her!”

“She still hated you, though. There was nothing you could do about that relationship.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s the same the other way around, too. Remember when you were dating that artist who hated the idea of Jihoon-hyung being around?”

“Oh, him? I remember that. He once tore down all the pictures I had with Jihoon, insisting that I was cheating on him. in his defence, we were twenty-three, so, I don’t blame him for making bad choices.”

Seungkwan groans, “this way, it’s going to take at least a hundred years before you wake up, too. Sunbae! Have you not realised it yet, or do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Realised what?”

“That you like hyung as well? That its not just him who’s chasing, but also you?”

I scoff, “no, I don’t like Jihoon! I don’t know why you are saying this, but I don’t like Jihoon. He’s simply a friend of mine.”

“You once drove to Hwacheon in the middle of winter for his birthday.”

“That’s different! It was his birthday, he was in the military, I had to do something! Besides, he only got one day for his leave, and none of you guys could go.”

“Sunbae, driving to Hwacheon is a bit too much, don’t you think?” Seungkwan stares at me, “you’re telling me you drove through snow and went halfway to North Korea for your friend?”

“Yes! No! I don’t know!” I wail, falling onto the floor on a heap, “all I know is that I want Jihoon in my life. I can’t live without him; these past few weeks, its as though life has lost its meaning for me. I don’t find my work fun anymore; I don’t have anyone to talk to anymore. I can’t give him up.”

“I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty romantic to me.”

I narrow my eyes, “you’re just enjoying the fun, aren’t you?”

Seungkwan giggles, “and what if I tell you I am?”

“I’d kill you.”

Seungkwan says nothing, just continues to grin as though he’s watching a sitcom, or a variety show. What would a variety show based on my life look like? Something like I Live Alone, but entirely for people struggling with romance problems; if I worked in a bigger broadcasting company,  I would have pitched this idea. People would get on there, and just talk about their romance problems.

“Sunbae—no, noona.”

Seungkwan calling me by the familiar honorific catches my attention. Since I have known him, Seungkwan has never once referred to me in that familiar a tone, always with the more respectful sunbae, reserved for departmental seniors. Especially since joining the news desk, he has refused to call me anything but. It gives me a sense of respect, obviously, but it also seems as though he has always kept me at arm’s length.

“You’re being familiar with me, Seungkwan,” I say, “what’s happened?”

He sits next to me on the floor, staring at me, “noona, have you ever really done anything for yourself?”

I give him a look. “What do you mean, if I have done anything for myself? Everything I do is for myself; I think we’ve established that. If you made a list of the most selfish people you know, I would probably rank top five in there.”

“That’s what you think. You always keep talking about how you’re doing things for yourself, but in reality, all you do, is based on the needs of others.”

“I think you’re trying to make me into a martyr, Seungkwan, when all I have done is be a selfish person.”

“I also think that you consider yourself to be a selfish person because that’s what you’ve been taught to believe.”

“Seungkwan,” I say, mildly, “look at the society we live in. its either hyper individualistic, or it’s based on outdated systems of collective identity; either way, I’m not actually doing anything I want to do myself. It is all things I’ve been taught. How to be, how to act, how to think.”

“And that isn’t wrong, per se, but you have to think, at some point, that your existence is based on how others think of you. Even with Jihoon-hyung, you’re just going off of what we might think of you, what he might think of you. Have you even figured out your own feelings?”

“And what if we break up? What if I say to Jihoon, that yes, I’d like to date you too, but we break up soon? Within one month, two months? I’m terrified of losing him, to the point where I’m happy to be his friend just to keep him in my life. Why else do you think I rejected him?”

“You rejected him?” Seungkwan screeches, “noona, you’re in love with him, and you rejected him?”

“Being friends with him is more important to me than being his girlfriend,” I say, “to be his girlfriend is something I don’t want to imagine.”

“Because you don’t want to be his girlfriend, or because you don’t want to get your hopes up?”

I groan, lying back down on the floor, “I don’t know, and I don’t want to think about it either.”

Seungkwan smiles, “hey maybe, you should try and think about what you want to do, before doing what everyone else expects of you. Even if that’s what you are going to end up doing anyway, maybe, you should at least be aware of what you want.”

—

On Monday, I walk into the office with my eyes bloodshot, and dark circles underneath them, ten minutes after the team meeting has begun. Both the Editor and the Assistant Editor take one look at my face and decide not to tell me anything for showing up late to the meeting.

“We were talking about your column, Sunbae,” Haewon says as I nurse my coffee, “the readers loved it. We’ve been getting so many responses and letters to the office after you began the column.”

“We are?” I ask, “who the hell is screening through the letters, then?”

“I am,” the Assistant Editor says, “I figured you didn’t need one more thing on your plate, and I sorted out whatever you had to. For the first time in a long while, we have fan mail coming to the office.”

“Huh?” I catch the last part of that sentence, “we have fan mail?”

“Yes, and a lot of it, too,” the Assistant editor smiles at me, “at this rate, we might start a radio show if we have the funds for it.”

“We’ll never have the funds for it,” I wave a hand, “having a radio show is out of the question.”

“Still, it seems nice that the desk is getting a lot of other attention too, other than doing book reviews and movie reviews.” The editor says.

“You do realise, all this is coming at the expense of my sleep?” I grumble, “this is the worst idea you could ever have. A radio show? I can barely talk to people. You want me to go on a show and talk to people in real-time?”

“Yes, yes, which is why we are not thinking about it,” the Editor clarifies, “you just need to continue writing the column as you have been. That much is enough for the desk.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sunbae,” Seungkwan slides an energy drink towards me, “it’s enough for the desk if you just do things as they come by. No one is asking you to do more than what’s required.”

“You say that now, Seungkwan, but pretty soon they’ll be asking favours from you, too.” I smile at him, “don’t let anyone walk over you here. Its difficult to stop them once you’ve begun letting them have their way.”

During lunch break, Seungkwan sidles up to me in the cafeteria, where the members of the desk have congregated (on news of them serving galbi-tang), and asks, “Sunbae, have you finished moving in? Jeonghan-hyung wanted me to invite you to a party this weekend.”

“Why didn’t he invite me himself?” I ask through a mouthful of beef, “has he lost my number?”

“No, he’ll probably invite you personally, but he wanted me to tell you beforehand.”

I narrow my eyebrows, “what am I, some sort of minister? Why are there levels of protocol when approaching me for an event?”

Seungkwan shrugs, “you know how Jeonghan-hyung is. You once told him you were uncomfortable at a party, and he’s taken that to heart ever since.”

I roll my eyes. The party in question was one thrown in the first year of university, after appropriate introductions had been made, and me and Jihoon had been invited out to a party by Joshua and his friends, where I got blind drunk and regretted it the next morning. Ever since that night, the boys have been particular about when to invite me out, none more so than Jeonghan, who apparently vetted all his invitations through Seungkwan, “tell him I’ll be there. And from now on, don’t let him vet his applications through you. If he wants to invite me out, he can call me himself. I don’t mind.”

“You do realise, if I relay your message verbatim to hyung, he’s going to be even more cautious of you?”

“Well, I’ll tell him myself, then.”

“Don’t tell him.”

I stare at Seungkwan, who looks serious, “really, sunbae, let other people care about you once in a while. Jeonghan-hyung is only mindful of your boundaries because he doesn’t want to overstep. He doesn’t see you as a burden, or as someone he needs to treat with kid gloves for the rest of his life.”

“Well, doesn’t matter what he thinks. If he continues to treat me like I’m a child, others might get annoyed with his actions.”

“Others? You mean the people that respect you and are cognizant of your boundaries and your shortcomings?” Seungkwan places a piece of meat in my rice bowl, I’m almost done with eating, “sunbae, people that make accommodations for you aren’t doing it because they secretly hate you, or that they’re bothered by your presence in events. They’re doing it because they want you to be there, and they like you enough to go out of their way to make a place for you at the table.”

“Seungkwan, this is much more complicated than that.”

“I don’t see why it has to be so complicated,” he says, standing up, “you keep being kind to people, but when they want to extend that same kindness to you, you reject it, saying its excessive. Aren’t you hurting yourself in the long run?”

“Seungkwan,” I hold my head in my hands, “I can’t just change my way of thinking.”

“Yes, I know,” he shakes his head, “just that—you should try at least.”

—

When I enter my apartment that evening, there’s a cloud hanging over my head. Its not simply the absence of Jihoon, but also Seungkwan’s words. To think that I haven’t been trying to accept the attentions of people, well, why am I trying to deny it? its correct.

My phone rings, and I pick it up without even checking the caller ID, “hello?”

“I had to hear from Jihoon that you had moved.”

I sigh. This is the last think I wanted to do at this moment, have a conversation with my mother, “sorry, I didn’t have a lot of opportunities to talk to anyone. I was too busy with work these past few weeks.”

“Still, it would have been nice to know that you moved, from you, and not from Jihoon.”

“Wait, mom, why—why are you talking to Jihoon instead of me?”

My mother laughs on the other end. It’s a nice thing, to hear her laugh, “because Jihoon, no, not just him, all of your friends call me more than you do. Jihoon even came by our house a few weeks ago, and had a meal with us.”

I sigh, “really, Jihoon—he’s going to piss me off at this rate.”

“No, don’t take out your frustrations on Jihoon. He’s a nice boy.”

I wonder how my mother would react if I told her that her ‘nice boy’ stormed into my apartment and told me he was in love with me ever since he went for his military service. She would probably jump with joy. “Sorry, mom,” I say, hoping my thoughts aren’t seeping into my voice, “I just started a new column at work.”

“Really? That’s so nice, I hope they aren’t overworking you.”

“No, mom, they’re not. I came home right on time today.”

“That’s good.” She says. I say nothing. What else is there to say? For someone who’s been alienated form their family for so long, all that remains is a string of hollow formalities and conversations that die out in a moment.

“How’s my sister?” I ask, in an effort to continue the conversation, “has she talked to you recently?”

My mother perks right up, “have I told you, your sister is getting married? She’s marrying Yong-Hwa in the spring. Has she not told you yet?”

In fact, my sister had told me, had told me how she was getting married to the love of her life, a prosecutor, and how she was envisioning the rest of her life with him, with children, a happy home, and more. It made me jealous; to see someone achieve their dreams when you are struggling with your own is not an easy thing.

“I heard,” I say, “how’s dad? Are his health problems persisting? Should I send more vitamins?”

“No, no, he’s perfectly fine. He’s still working as a lawyer, even though the doctor has told him not to. He says he’ll continue to work till he’s eighty.”

“Hah…dealing with father is tiring, isn’t it?” I groan, “I’ll come down the next time I get some time off. I’ll talk him into retiring properly.”

“You don’t have to do that,” my mother says, “knowing that you’re working hard is good enough for me, at least, this way, I can think that you’re doing well.”

“That’s good, then,” I reply, “sorry, mom, I’m getting another call. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay, but don’t go for too long without talking to us.”

This is fine. To know that my parents are doing well, its okay. I can hold on for longer if that’s what helps them. I’ll be the daughter they’re proud of.

—

I’ve been wandering for far too long. Always trying to be the best version of myself. But what lies at the end of this journey? Is it just a means of fulfilling my parents’ wishes?

On most days, I want to be alone. So, I push people away, just to benefit myself. It has got nothing to do with how I feel about them, it’s just how I feel most at ease. I’ve always been on my own, its just easier. Its easier to be the person people relied on, instead of the person who had to rely on others. But just for once, I’d like someone to tell me that it will be okay. It will be okay to break down, that it will be okay if I fail. My life has been so barren, that even trying to do anything otherwise is too much. For so long I’ve been someone whose life has been dictated by the wishes of others, that I fear I wont even be able to live well if I decided to live by my own.

What does it mean, to have a dream? I had a letter sent to me, saying that their dream is to find happiness on their own. Well, happiness is something that comes after a long time. I’m searching for it too, but I hope you find it, sincerely. To walk towards happiness isn’t something that’s easy. But I appreciate you for taking that step. To walk towards what you want. What you need.

There’s another letter, that says, ‘I don’t have a dream yet’. Don’t worry, a dream isn’t something that’s complicated. They aren’t supposed to be; you’re supposed to find something that makes you happy, that makes you want to live again. That’s all. that is all there is to a dream. All around us, people are living day to day, they’re living without finding what makes them happy. I hope it finds you soon.

I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to find something that gives me purpose. The way I’m living now, it’s enough for me, to live an average existence, to live in a way that gives me peace, if not happiness.

What happens when that peace is taken away, too?

—

Jeonghan throws good parties. That’s a given. It’s not as though he invites many people, or that his parties are a riot of good fun, but he always makes people feel at ease, if not with his actions, then with his words. Its who he is. A source of constant comfort, that I feel guilty for trying to take advantage of.

I arrive at his house after finishing work with a bottle of wine, hesitating before I press the doorbell. Jeonghan lives in a house in the middle of Seoul that he got for dirt cheap because the people who lived in there were violently murdered in the early ‘00s, a fact that I had asked him about once, and he had simply brushed it of by saying that if there were ghosts, he would befriend them. I’d given up on asking him after that one exchange.

The door opens within ten seconds of me ringing the doorbell, and Jeonghan greets me with a wide smile, “I thought you wouldn’t come! Can I give you a hug?”

I nod, “I told you I would be there,” but the rest of my sentence is drowned out by Jeonghan enveloping me into a large hug. He smells like an expensive perfume, mixed with the familiar smell of chicken and beer. Ah, so its that kind of party.

“Make yourself at home, the rest of them already have.” He says, ushering me into the living room, “the rest of the boys are already here. We were just waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?”

“Because, my dear writer, you’ve always turned down any invites for parties for five years now. Now that you’ve accepted my invite, you’re the star of this gathering.”

I don’t say anything, but my discomfort must have shown on my face, because he suddenly stops me, “hey, just so you know, I meant that as a joke. Seungcheol just got a big promotion at work, so he’s been bragging about that for an hour now. I doubt anyone will pay attention to you.”

“That’s nice.”

All around the low table, there are cans of beer, snacks, and boxes of fried chicken. Jeonghan must have prepared for a lot of people to come. Seungcheol is talking about his job, how he was now the team manager of marketing, and how happy it made him, to have so much responsibility at such a young age. There’s Chan, Vernon, and Seungkwan, gossiping about their respective fields of work, and Mingyu is sleeping on the end of the table, while Minghao and Wonwoo talk about how work has been nowadays. Jun is noticeably missing from the group, but I can see him in the kitchen, making himself another drink, and then, there’s Jihoon. Seated between Joshua and Seokmin, talking about something I can’t hear. I stand still in my tracks, unable to move. What do I say? After rejecting him so painfully, what do I say? I’m sorry, Jihoon? Sorry about what? Sorry about not being able to accept genuine affection in the fears that it might ruin the one good thing I have for myself?

“Aren’t you going to sit?” Jeonghan asks, gesturing to a seat beside Jihoon, “I thought you would be more comfortable if you sat beside Jihoon, since you’ve known him for longer.”

In fact, I’d rather sit anywhere other than beside Jihoon, but I take the seat next to him gingerly, and Seokmin eagerly moves over. Seokmin is like a child, eager, soft around the edges, and someone you want to protect, no matter what. Maybe if I could look into people’s minds, Seokmin’s would be pure, devoid of any harshness of the world; is that why I tried to protect him even when I had no right to?

“Noona,” Seokmin giggles, “have I told you about the play I’m performing in? I’ll give you a ticket, so you have to come, okay?”

His energy is so infectious, I can’t help but smile with him, “of course, I’ll come to see you.”

“Are you okay?” Jihoon asks, his voice so quiet I barely miss it, “you don’t really come to occasions like these.”

“Felt like it,” I mutter, “new year, new me, or should I say new apartment, new me?”

Jihoon laughs, “yeah, you seem like you’ve changed. Your hands are shaking.”

I look down at my hands, and true enough, they’re shaking. Whether from nervousness or something else entirely, I don’t know, but they’re shaking. I ball my hands into fists. Whatever happens, don’t let anyone know what you’re going through. “just tired, perhaps.”

“You have been working too much,” Joshua pipes up, “you never reply to any of my texts anymore.”

“That’s because you keep asking me about flower arrangements,” I reply, “why would I look at flowers when I can’t smell them?”

“Sunbae is very busy at the news desk,” Seungkwan pipes up, “did you know, she has a new co—”

“Shut up, Seungkwan,” I  mutter, reaching over to stuff a chicken leg in his mouth, “the work has been just harder these few days.”

Jihoon stares at me; it’s the same look he has in his eyes whenever he’s landed on something to probe, and sure enough, he asks, “why? What’s going on at the office?”

“Nothing!” I say, far too quick for it to even go past Seokmin or Joshua, (whom everyone, not just me, have deemed as the most scammable) “its nothing! Seungkwan just wanted to brag about his workload to everyone else.”

“Why the fuck would he do that?” Vernon asks, but is largely ignored by Jeonghan (my angel prince saviour Jeonghan) who arrives with drinks, a grumpy Jun in tow, announcing, “who wants shots!” and despite pushing thirty, Seungcheol, who had paused bragging about his work promotion, raised his hands, grabbing one of the shot glasses. Even Mingyu wakes up from his nap, raising his hand in the air and grabbing one of the shot glasses. They’re all going to regret it, I think to myself, then, feeling Jihoon’s eyes on me, grab a couple of the shot glasses myself. The drink is sugary, and multicoloured (Jun once wanted to be a bartender in university). It goes down far smoother than expected, since I’ve had Jun’s drinks since university, and they have tasted like battery acid far too many times for me to expect something nice out of his concoctions.

“This is actually nice,” Chan says, “hyung, what did you put in this?”

“Won’t be telling you,” Jun pulls a face, “you’ll just make it for other people and then take credit for it.”

Of course, this ensues in a squabble, with Chan loudly protesting that he would never do that to his beloved Jun-hyung (he would, I know) and Jun proclaiming that Chan is nothing but a dirty jerk who wants to put his grubby little hands, on Jun’s hard work and his creation (most likely, it was from a Reddit forum on bartending). One by one, the rest of them enter the argument, and I lean back into my seat, laughing at their antics. Its always chaos when I meet the boys, but somehow, its also peaceful. They’re loud, boisterous, and from whatever pictures Joshua and Jihoon had shared from their one shared ‘boys’ trip’, dirty as hell (these people laid out a carpet of towels instead of just drying their feet) but they know how to put someone’s mind at ease. Or at least, my mind at ease. I don’t know about others.

Its almost two in the morning when they quiet down. Jeonghan might have bought this house because it was dirt cheap and he wanted to make friends with the ghosts, but this house has one of the most gorgeous verandas I’ve ever seen. It looks out onto a peaceful Seoul street, and in the middle of the night, there’s no one here to complain if I smoke a cigarette.

I light one up, letting out a puff of air as I sit down on the marble flooring. It has been a long time since I smoked a cigarette (three days), and some of the smoke goes into my eyes when I let it out of my lungs. Its not enough to make me cough, but my eyes water nonetheless.

“You can smoke inside, if you want.” Jeonghan appears at the corner of my field of vision, “in fact, I think Minghao is smoking one right now.”

“Just wanted to get away from the noise a little,” I say, shaking the cigarette, “want to sit beside me?”

He shrugs, but crosses his legs and sits beside me on the marble flooring anyway.

After barely a minute, he turns to me, and without any warning, says, “so, has Jihoon told you he’s in love with you?”

I start coughing. Big, hacking coughs, and he just stares at me while I recover. I cannot believe I called him my saviour. “What—what do you mean?”

Jeonghan, the irritating bastard, still has that same, serene smile on his face, “you can’t possibly think that we all spent the last few years with our eyes closed now, have you? We’ve all known about Jihoon’s feelings for you, and now that you’re here, I can see that its reciprocated.”

“Wha-how are you even making these assumptions? I don’t have any feelings for him!” I whisper, “and yes, I know about his feelings. Even if they caught me somewhat by surprise, I’m aware of what kind of feelings he has for me.”

“And?” he leans close, “how does that make you feel?”

“How should it make you feel? I feel worried.”

“Worried?” he pulls a face, “if you wanted to get him off of your back, you’d say something like ‘I feel uncomfortable’, but you aren’t, because you don’t really feel uncomfortable, do you?”

I stare at him, fuck Jeonghan and his perceptive nature. “it’s not that I don’t feel uncomfortable, I just-don’t see the point in his confession.”

“Why? Why would a mere confession have you feeling this way? If you don’t want to accept it, then just say so. No one here,” Jeonghan points to the room, “will fault you for that. In fact, I think they’ll all commend you for it. Jihoon can be a tad bit difficult at times.”

I scoff, “he’s not difficult, he’s just—Jihoon.”

Jeonghan laughs, “see, I knew it. I knew there was something else there that you weren’t letting on. Now, come on, tell me,” and then spreads his arms wide, “tell oppa what’s bothering you.”

“If you refer to yourself as oppa again, I might have to kill you.”

This time, he laughs loud enough for people to hear inside, “fine, fine. I won’t be doing that anymore. But tell me, my dear writer, have you never thought about it? even once?”

I shrug, “of course I have. Everyone has those kinds of thoughts once in a while, I’m no different from the others, of course I’ve thought about it.”

“And?”

I shake my head, “nothing good will ever come out of it, because it’s a fifty-fifty chance. We either stick together until the end of time, or we break up and I can’t interact with him ever again.”

“So, you’d prefer to not try at all.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long time, and then finally, shrugs, “it’s your choice. If you don’t want to do something, then you shouldn’t force yourself to. But can I tell you something?”

“Yes?”

“When did he say that he started having feelings for you?”

I think for a moment, “since his military service.”

Jeonghan grins, sly, just the way I know his smile works, “As someone who’s seen Jihoon since his university days, I can tell you something. He’s got it wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Yes. He’s liked you since the day you walked into his life. There has been no moment in time when he was not in love with you. He might have realised it late in life, but he’s always been in love with you.”

I stare. Jeonghan isn’t the kind of person who makes random statements, so for him to say this, its strange. Jihoon has been in love with me ever since the first day? but that doesn’t make sense. “You do realise he’s dated other people too, while he was friends with me?”

“Of course, I know that. Both you and him have been running away from your actual feelings, but that doesn’t make it any more apparent that you have both been in love with each other since the day you met. Or at least, it has been that way for Jihoon.”

With that, Jeonghan stands up, dusting off his trousers, “there’s a guest bedroom in there for you. If you’re tired, just go inside and sleep.”

I look inside, where Chan is currently trying to balance a beer can on his forehead, “and the rest of them?”

“The rest of them can sleep on the couch,” he says, “it’s the least they can do after creating such a ruckus in my own home.”

“But you invited them.”

There’s a slightly evil glint in his eyes as he says, “yes, yes I did.”

—

The next morning, I wake up to people talking all over themselves, and the smell of pancakes wafting in the air. That has got to be Joshua. After cleaning up in the attached bathroom, I walk out of the guest bedroom, coming face-to-face with Jun, who’s carrying in his hands a very large tray, heaped with pancakes and a singular glass of milk.

“Is this for me?” I ask, and he nods, gesturing towards the kitchen, where Joshua is busy cooking a meal for thirteen people. Or fourteen, if you count me.

“Sorry, I can’t have breakfast right now,” I sidestep past him, and Jun follows me out into the kitchen, “sorry, but I have to leave right now.”

“Without having breakfast?” Jun asks, setting the tray down, where Chan promptly picks one up and stuffs it into his face, “you should have something at least.”

“Had too much to drink last night,” I offer up as a feeble excuse, avoiding Jihoon’s gaze. It’s strange, piercing in a way that I am not really used to, “I should probably get going. There’s still so much to be done in my apartment.”

“Speaking of apartments,” Wonwoo speaks through a mouthful of pancake, “when are you going to call us all over?”

“As soon as I can,” I reply, “I’ll host a potluck. You all can bring a dish, and it’ll be a party.”

“Instead of that, just make Mingyu cook,” Soonyoung grins, “he’ll be eager to help if it involves you. And cooking. But mostly, you.”

I open my mouth to say something, but Jihoon stands up, slipping on his stupid khaki jacket, “here, I’ll give you a ride. Come on, then.”

“Ah but hyung, you still have so much on your plate—” Chan is promptly cut off in the middle of his sentence by a swift elbow to the ribs by Seungkwan, “hyung! Why the hell did you do that?”

Jihoon ignores the squabble currently breaking out at the dining table, and stares at me, his car keys dangling from his left hand, “want to come?”

Before I can say anything to accept the offer of a ride, Soonyoung raises a hand, “Jihoon, weren’t you supposed to meet the other producers and sound engineers today? I’m supposed to be there too, but will you not be attending?”

Even though Jeonghan hisses at Soonyoung to shut up, I can already see the cogs in Jihoon’s mind turning. Clearly, he wanted to talk to me, or at least, he wanted to make an effort to talk to me, “I’ll take a taxi, then.” I say, trying to make an excuse for myself, “don’t worry, Jihoon, you don’t have to drop me home.”

“No, I can drop you off and then go to the office,” he begins, but Joshua cuts him off (while wearing a Rilakkuma apron) saying, “can’t Mingyu take her home? He’s going in the same direction as her, so he can drop her easily. You don’t have to overexert yourself and drop her off at the apartment when you’re going in the opposite direction.”

While not one to turn down a free ride, I raise my hand to complain that I don’t need to take Mingyu’s car to go back home, but Mingyu walks into the room at that moment, and before I can say anything, Joshua turns to him, saying, “are you going back home right now?”

“Yes, hyung, I’m off for the weekend since Minghao is handling the meetings this time around,” he says brightly, “I can drop her off!”

“That’s settled, then,” Chan announces, “Jihoon-hyung can take Soonyoung to the company.”

“You brat,” Soonyoung scowls, “why is Jihoon hyung and I’m just Soonyoung? Do you have no respect for your elders?”

“I once saw you vomit into a flowerpot,” Chan says, “at that moment, you lost all respect in my eyes.”

Before another scuffle can break out over breakfast, Mingyu says loudly, “I’m leaving then!”

—

I’m a big fan of travelling in silence. Even if it is with someone I like, I prefer to sit in silence and contemplate, instead of chattering on about my life. That’s a lie. Mingyu chatters on and on about the new collection and how its selling better than he or Minghao expected, “This is such great news for a fashion brand that was launched less than a decade ago, noona,” he says, while driving his fancy car, and I sit still in my seat and pray that he hasn’t noticed the awkwardness between me and Jihoon. I don’t expect him to notice, either. Mingyu might be nice and well-meaning, but he’s also painfully oblivious.

Which is why it takes me by surprise when he turns to me, while the car is halted at a stop sign, and says, “so, have you figured out what to tell Jihoon-hyung yet?”

I cough, “how-how did you know about that?”

Mingyu laughs, “you think we all were unaware of how he feels towards you? Pfft. Noona, we’ve been observing him since he was in university. He’s always been gone for you.”

I stare resolutely out of the window, “you’re evidently kidding.”

“Noona. He used to stay up with you when you had exams, he used to make sure you weren’t dead when you used to hibernate for long periods of time, he even had a space for you in the stupid apartment studio, are you seriously telling me you had no idea that he was in love with you all this while?”

“Of course, I didn’t!” I want to scream and tear out my hair in frustration, “of course not! I thought he was just looking out for me because I was his only female friend, and after university, I thought to myself, that this is how he usually is! Why would I think that he’s in love with me?”

“Well, he thought that it would be enough to impress you.”

“We were twenty-two! I thought he was an immature weirdo who had no idea how to maintain female friendships!”

“Yes, he’s usually like that,” Mingyu resumes driving, “but he’s got degrees of being familiar.”

“I know. Jihoon’s like a cat. He approaches you at his own pace. Doing anything else will just push him off.”

Mingyu laughs, “you know what, noona, I think you’re a lot like a cat too.”

“Kim Mingyu, watch what you’re saying.”

He grins, “you know I’m correct.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to say it this way.”

“The way I see it,” he says, slowing down as the car turns into the parking lot of the apartment, “you’ve always approached people at your own pace too. Seokmin and I were overenthusiastic when meeting you for the first time, and you refused to even acknowledge me for the rest of the semester.”

“Sorry about that, really.”

“We didn’t mind then, and we don’t mind now,” he shrugs, “its just who you are. And to accept the kind of person that one is, and then to continue caring for them, yeah, that’s love.”

“Jihoon’s just my friend,” I say, getting out of the car, “he’s just my friend, nothing more.”

“Noona, the fact that you keep repeating this to all of us, makes me wonder who it is that you’re trying to convince. Is it me, the rest of us, Jihoon-hyung, or yourself?”

“Kim Mingyu,” I warn, “you’re overstepping.”

“Sorry, noona, but I have to ask,” he walks into the elevator after me, “have you always seen him as a friend, and nothing more? I saw how you used to, no, how you still treat him differently than the rest of us. You’ve always had a soft spot where he was concerned. In fact, you still do, and you’re hiding it.”

“Drop it, Mingyu. You have no idea what happened the last time I said anything about this.”

The elevator dings, opening onto our floor, and Mingyu steps out right behind me, “Then tell us, noona. We, all of us, Jihoon-hyung, everyone around you—we are stumbling around in the dark because you’ve been so closed off about your past.”

I shake my head, pressing the keys in the keypad lock, “maybe, you shouldn’t be knowing about this one, Mingyu.”

The door closes behind me with an audible click, and even without pressing an eye to the keyhole, I know Mingyu is still standing in front of my door, deliberating over whether or not to knock. In the end, his loyalty wins over his curiosity; he walks away, over to his own apartment.

I sink into a heap at the doorway. What do I do? I know I’ve told Jihoon to ignore the confession and be exactly as we were before, but that is not possible anymore, now that I know how he feels towards me. every interaction I have with him will be grappling with this same truth, and I’ll always be wondering about how he feels towards me.

Out of habit, I pull my phone out of my pocket, swiping through messages and emails, when one of them catches my eye. It’s a simple, single-line message.

Read your column. I know its anonymous, but I know how you write.

—Sungwon

How bad is rock bottom? Is it possible to go below that? I have to remind myself to breathe, as I slowly collect myself from the floor, and go about the rest of my morning. Of course, I shouldn’t think about the people who have left me behind. It’s a disservice to myself. I’ve spent enough time and money in therapy to know that. But what happens when the past refuses to let go of you?

I dial the first number I can get my hands on. After three rings, Jeonghan picks up, his cheerful voice filling the line, “hi! Did you reach home already? Did Mingyu crash the car?”

“Oppa.” I say, “you have to listen to me carefully.”

“Why?” Jeonghan’s voice, so cheerful moments before, has been filled with anxiety, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, even as Jihoon’s voice floats over the line, yelling is she okay? “don’t let Jihoon know anything’s happened, please.”

“Yes, you reached fine?” Jeonghan says, voice nonchalant, “okay, I’m in another room, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Jeonghan-oppa.” It’s taking all  have to not break into sobs, “I once told a friend, that I liked them.”

“Okay, and?” his voice is kind, so kind, that it drowns out the other voices in my mind saying you don’t deserve this, “what happened?”

“He said—he told me that I’d ruined our friendship, and he never talked to me after that.”

“Oh, oh no, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry to hear that. What else can I say, that will help you feel better?”

“Just—hear me out, for now,” I continue, “and he’s never contacted me, but all of a sudden, he sent me an email last night.”

“What did he say in the email?”

“That he’s been following my writing. I don’t understand, how is it easy for people to be like this when they’ve hurt someone else?”

“Are you afraid Jihoon is going to break off all contact with you, and then email you years later like some kind of pathetic loser?” he scoffs, “if he did that, I would be first in line to break his legs.”

“No, I’m afraid I’m going to be that person to Jihoon,” I sob, “I think I’m going to hurt him and leave him behind, and that I’ll be the person to deal him that cruel hand.”

The line is silent on the other end.

“Jeonghan? Are you there?” I ask.

“It’s me.” Jihoon’s voice sounds rough around the edges, as though he’s been crying, “I heard everything.”

“Jihoon.” I plead, “please don’t do anything that’ll hurt you.”

“I’m coming over in ten minutes,” he mutters, hanging up.

And it’s done. Over. Fuck. I’ve thrown away years of friendship because I didn’t want to accept my own emotions and grow beyond the scared girl I was as a child.

I want to cry, but even that effort is too much for me, sinking down into a heap in the middle of my living room, listening to the sounds of the wall clock ticking down every second.

Even before ten minutes are up, the keypad beeps, before the door opens to reveal a very windswept Jihoon.

“How did you know my password?” is the only thing I can say to him.

He rolls his eyes, “you use the same password as my studio. Of course, I know your password.”

“Fair.”

Jihoon stares at me for a beat, then takes a deep breath, before kneeling down on the floor beside me, “I overheard everything.”

“I’m going to curse Jeonghan and his high-volume phone,” I mutter, “I told him to keep it a secret.”

“To be fair, he was only protecting you.” Jihoon laughs, “he didn’t know I was more persistent than he could ever imagine.”

I shoot him a dirty look. Jihoon sighs, “look, I know, the way I said things to you, wasn’t the most ideal—”

“They were horrible, actually,” I cut in, “you yelled at me that you loved me, and then you left.”

“—man, just let me finish,” Jihoon says, without any real spite, “but I wanted to tell you, that my feelings still haven’t, and will not in the future, affect the way I see you. I’ve always been proud to call you my friend, even if you keep secrets from me.”

“I don’t keep that many secrets.” I mutter.

“Really? Then what about the whole anonymous column thing?”

“You knew about that?”

Jihoon scoffs, “I’ve seen you write since the beginning of university. I know how you write better than anyone else, of course, I knew it was you.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m respectful.”

I scowl, “continue.”

“I just wanted to say that even if you wanted to push me away, you can’t,” Jihoon says, smug smile on his face, “I’m impossible to get rid of.”

“You’re not selling yourself very well.”

“You still haven’t given me an answer to my confession.”

“Look, Jihoon, it would never work,” I say, turning away from him, “we know too much about each other. We’ve seen each other’s worst moments. And what if we break up? Who’s going to tell the rest of the boys that we no longer have the same dynamic that we used to have and that its going to be different around us? They have the tact of a bull; you know how they are going to be.”

“That’s them,” he replies, “I’m asking about you. I want to know what you think.”

I sigh. Jihoon’s face is remarkably close to me; from here I can make out the tiny little freckles he has, and the way his eyes are shining, “I’m scared.”

His skin is so soft under my touch, has he always been this way? Jihoon leans into my touch as if he’s never felt anything like this, “scared of what?”

“That I’ll like you too much. That once I take a step forward, it’ll be too difficult to restrain myself again.”

Jihoon laughs, the tip of his nose touching mine, “one step forward, is okay. It’s allowed.”

“Are you quoting Crash Landing on You?” I laugh, even as his lips touch mine.

Kissing Jihoon is an experience; his skin feels soft under my touch, but his lips are insistent against mine, demanding and reverent alternatively, as though he can’t believe his luck that he’s kissing me, or that this is a dream, and what he needs to do is possess it, and then, this memory of a moment will be forever engraved in his heart. My hands go to the back of his neck, where his hair is softer than usual—has he washed it—but all I can feel, under my fingers, is how his heart beats, quicker than I’ve ever imagined it to be, and how it mirrors my own.

I don’t want this moment to end.

[fisbred]

a cat chasing wolf!

pairing(s) : scaramouche (a) x gn!reader (o) warn : modern au, alpha/beta/omega verse, human-hybrid, hint of yandere!scara (not much tho) note : my first time writing like this, soo- bearing all this cringe with me lol. oh yeah grammar goes brr

it's not surprising reader likes to come in and out from teachers room, especially if it wasn't for the problems they caused?

yeah, reader is troublemaker lol.

scara in other way was tired because teachers always put heavy expectation to him (poor boy).

well, scara is the student council president.

at first he was too annoyed with reader, like he has to handle a lot of reports that problems caused by reader.

and he was quite surprised by reader second gender, it was omega. many people think that reader are alpha, because of their rude nature (also wolf-ish body part).

after he found the answer, he has interest to reader.

after a month he's kinda look after reader.

there was a time when reader eating meat sandwich at canteen, suddenly scara came to sit next to reader without reason.

sometimes scara will confiscate reader's jacket, the reason is school rules prohibit students from wearing jackets.

he's a liar tho. reader jacket will smell like scara after he return it.

rumors circulated that scara and reader were in a relationship. although reader trying to stop that rumors, scara just quiet (he's not minding if people at school start to shipping him with reader well).

but suddenly reader chooses not to cause any more trouble, which makes scara can have peaceful day.

it was good for reader to not take some trouble, but scara sometimes feeling weird and his instincts roaring.

scara trying to distract himself but his attempt did not make him feels better.

one day, when scara spotting reader. it was weird. they're playing with kazuha, but... it's not like usual.

reader were very obedient to kazuha.

when kazu try to advised reader not to cause any more trouble. they we're listening.

it makes scara blood boil, why would reader don't wanna obey him in back time?!

scara saw it all from a distance, gritting his teeth. while holding the classroom door tightly, his handprints printed on it.

oh no

taglist : @kunikuma

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.6

I know it took forever please forgive me!

I have a couple more ideas for this, if you guys want it to continue

If you think I'm just milking please it let me know, there's so many better fic writers out there I really didnt think this would blow up like it did 🫶

<< Part 5 Part 7 >> Masterlist

You had thought scavenging was difficult however as you stared at the immensely filled shelves you realised choosing was harder. You’d thought to purchase some crackers, just to see if Laura had preferences; however there were twelve different types of Goldfish and Goldfish was just one brand. This whole aisle was overflowing with crackers. It was insane. Who needed this many choices?

Elektra, Gambit and Blade had tagged along, the latter only for company, and they all seemed to be in the same position. Tired eyes mindlessly scanning for anything familiar. Anything that sounded good. Did you even remember the taste of ‘spicy chilli’? Or did you prefer ‘sour cream and chives’?

The shelves were too much and they were tall. You couldn't see over them, couldn't see potential threats or keep an eye on the exits. Why did the aisles need to be this long? They were endless. Endless and bright and colourful and the store was loud. Why were there children running around? There could be anyone around the corner. Each stomp of little feet drilled a hole in your head.

Picking up speed you rounded the corner and hid yourself by a pillar. The thing was an eyesore for the employees, they definitely had trouble stocking the shelves around it, but to you it was bliss.

You rest your forehead against the cool metal and force the air out of your lungs. You took in a big gulp before forcing it out again.

The noise of the store was drowned out by your breathing, by your hammering heart. You could hear vague snippets but it sounded like when an explosion was too close. Warped and muffled at the same time.

“Mon cher?” Gambit placed a light hand on your shoulder, despite how careful he was it still caused you to jerk. “Y/N. You 're okay.” You couldn't tell what was happening but your head was moving. Was it nodding or shaking? Your mouth opened to respond but nothing, bar a few halfhearted noises, could come out. “Y/N.” He tried again, but this had never happened. You'd never felt like this. This pain in your chest. Was… did you survive the Void to have a heart attack? “‘m get ‘ogan.”

You deliriously gave him a thumbs up.

Without any sort of logic or proof you knew the floor was safe. Of course it was, it was a constant. The floor would never leave. It couldn't. So you knelt down, your knees against the linoleum and your head still against the pillar. Or was it a beam? Why was this happening? You used to be able to do this. Why couldn't you fucking shop? All this time you'd had dreams of normality and now it was here and you were too crazy to be here?

Maybe you belonged in the Void. Then again, maybe this was Cassandra. You had thought it previously, everything was far too easy. She could be laughing her ass off at how you reacted to a fake superstore. Imagine.

Noise had slowly started to come back but it was too loud. Too much. Too bright. Why was it so bright? Why did people need to be blasted in the face to see what toothpaste they needed?

Maybe this was it.

Maybe it was the end of the line.

You were just rewatching your life.

That would be... nice.

To know that there was an end.

God, that was depressing.

You didn't mean it that way and you don't know why you thought it but it actually brought you some comfort.

Not enough to stop you hyperventilating on the dirty floors, though.

“Baby?” That was Logan now. Why was he always there to save you? He didn't have to be. Hell, he didn't know you. You might be the worst version of yourself and here he was doting over you.

You didn't deserve that.

What had you done to deserve that type of love?

He had sat out on the fire escape all night and you can't even pick up fucking crackers.

Who even likes crackers!?

“Baby?” He repeated, closer now.

You turned to the side and saw him but also saw through him.

“Can you tell me your name?”

What sort of mind fuckery was this? He knows your name. “Y/N L/N.” Your voice was tiny but he could see the way your mouth formed the words.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Your eyes stayed trained on his face but you answered using your peripheral. “Two.” The word still small and but now just hardly audible.

“And what's this?” You let your eyes meander down to his hand and saw he was pointing at a scrubbing brush you were hunched by.

You felt your brows pull together in confusion. “Cleaning thing.”

He let out an amused huff but was sincere with his words. “Now, love, what can you hear?”

Hear? You can hear everything. Him mostly. There were footsteps and trolley wheels and the buzzing of the speakers and constant rustling of shopping bags or plastic packaging and chattering and the child running riot was now crying and the checkouts were beeping and the deli counter number was called. “Rustling?”

“What else?”

“Crying.”

“One more?” His voice had lowered, he was more breathy.

“Your breath.”

“Can you follow my breathing?”

It was even. He was breathing in and out. Like literally every other living creature. Even trees could breathe.

“Are you able to move your hand?” He continued, tapping his chest. “Put it here?”

Of course, who did he take you for? You shakily slapped it onto his chest and he held it tight. Taking in the largest breath and releasing it slowly.

He repeated that for a while and slowly you found yourself assimilated. You were copying him with perfect movements.

The constant humming in your head had stopped, the noises were bearable, the lights even seemed duller. “I- I think I'm okay now?”

“Can you stand?” His eyes were darting all over your face, trying to gauge a reaction.

You bit your lip and nodded, moving stiff legs and easing your way up. He was swift with his movements making sure you were one hundred percent okay on your wobbly legs before he stepped back.

“That's never happened before.” You felt tired, drained. Your whole body was on fire. Why was it so sore? You had mentally freaked out and now your body was aching?

“It was an anxiety attack.” He voiced the obvious but could tell you were going to argue so carried on. If he was talking you had to listen. “They're not uncommon for those who've suffered. I’ve had them due to my PTSD.” Maybe you'd feel at ease if you knew he got them as well.

“But I don't have PTSD.”

“I think you might,” You scrunch your face. “the years spent in the Void, couldn't have been easy.”

“We survived.”

“That's what VETs say.”

Your rebuttal died on your tongue as you took two seconds to actually think about it. He might be onto something. “Is that why Stark said we need a therapist?”

“Possibly.”

“The whole time I was in the Void this didn't happen.” You grumbled. “Just carried on.”

“You didn't have time then. Your brain can now process your trauma.” Damn, Lydia - his therapist - was a genius. “In a weird way this is being healthy.”

“It's called an atta-” You huffed, hugging your middle. “I don't care what's happening, I just don't want Laura to see.” You had separated in the store to cover more ground. She had wanted to wander, to see the store for herself, and you had thought you'd be able to gather everything by the time she was headed back to you.

“She may need to see. She mig-she feels like she has to be strong.” He knew what Laura thought because she was him. “She needs to be shown this is okay.”

You were getting frustrated now. “Okay but not yet. Just- I just want a nap. My head hurts. My body, too.”

“Okay, we can leave.” It was not even noon, the others would ask questions about your sleeping pattern.

“Oh wait, no, I don't want her to worry about being noisy.” You tapped your teeth together as you wracked your brain. “Can I nap in your room?”

“Of course.” He would never deny you that, it also was a win-win as he could monitor you without Laura's beady eyes stalking him.

~~

It was safe to say that your “sickness” was the worst kept secret. It was obvious to everyone what had happened and even Wade seemed concerned. So much that he postponed the party.

Logan had settled you into his bed hours ago, checking on you periodically and was just waiting for you to rise. He had nothing better to do.

You were his world.

Laura had knocked once to see if there were any updates but he had told her the truth. That he had nothing to tell and was worried himself.

She walked back with slumped shoulders, a sliver of guilt slid up Logan's back but she was gone before he could make amends.

Another knock pulled him from Laura's disappointed eyes. Logan hoisted himself off of the armchair and opened the door to see Elektra.

She reminded him of Jean in a lot of ways.

“Here.” El handed a bag over. Logan frowned and opened it to see a multi coloured box. He and you had left the store earlier than the others to get home. He had made no purchases, leaving his basket of goods on the floor where you had slumped over. He hated himself for letting you out of his sight but you had strode off so confidently and Blade was talking to him about different moterbikes. Logan was distracted for a millisecond and you had vanished. Why did he take you guys to a store that large?

“Uh.” He didn't know what to say.

“Just invite Laura over and play these.” She spelt it out. “The kid’s worried sick and won't listen to us.”

He accepted the bag and nodded once. “Okay.”

If loving you meant loving Laura he could do that. He didn't dislike the kid but he saw so much of himself in her. And he hated himself.

El turned on her heel and entered her own door, opposite his.

Logan itched his chin and sighed, walking next door. He knocked twice and waited.

Laura opened the door in a grey hoodie and your fluffy socks. “Hello.”

“You, uh, you wanna play connect four?” He shook the plastic bag.

Laura eyed the bag but nodded once and followed him into his home.

Logan's apartment was the same as yours except he had added throws, blankets, books, CDs and LPs and many more home comforts in preparation for your arrival. His home was decidedly cosier and Laura didn't hate it.

“She's still asleep so I thought we could pass the time together.” He spoke as he sat at the dining table. Laura stood behind the chair to his right and awaited instructions. “You can sit, I just need to set this up.”

Logan unravelled the contents of the bag and found Guess Who and Sorry we're sitting beneath Connect Four. He left them both on the table and delved into the first game.

Building the game wasn't difficult and explaining it to Laura was as easy as saying “connect four of the same colour, either portrait, landscape or diagonal”. The picture on the box was practically instructions.

But playing against her was challenging. She knew how to think like him, knew how to outsmart him.

It occurred to him that she was always observing people. She knew his tells. She was always present and did contribute to the conversation but she preferred to watch. To take in.

Laura was very good at connecting four so after a few games he pulled out Guess Who. That was a little bit more complicated.

“Are you George?”

Logan had thought to pick George but went for a random number - seven - and counted his way along the board. “No. Do you have long hair?”

“I do.” She agreed and he flipped the heads. “I was drawn to George so I thought you might've been.”

“You're onto something there.” Logan sipped his cola. He made sure there were snacks and drinks available.

“Blue eyes?”

“No.”

“I don't know how they got your DNA.” Laura had felt guilty. She knew her Logan didn't ask for her to be born and this one didn't even know she was a thing.

“Been around a long time.” He shrugged. “You'll have that to look forward to.”

“How long?”

“Lipstick?” She shook her head. “I've been around a good two-three hundred years.”

Laura let that settle. Would she be around that long? The doctors did thousands of tests on her but none said she'd live an extended period. “Blonde?”

Logan nodded, noticing the shift in her demeanour. “You okay?”

“That is a long time to be alive.” She picked up a chip and snapped it in half. “Y/N will be dead. And El. And Gambit.”

“You might not live as long.” He tried to make that sound like a good thing. “What's your healing factor like?”

“I've never been ‘injured’.”

He thought about that. He couldn't ask her if she had died. That might be too much for the young woman. “And the Adamantium?”

Laura frowned.

“Your claws.”

“What about them?” Finally popping the chip in her mouth.

“The metal isn't part of the mutation.”

“What?” Laura revealed her claws. They came out sharp and shiny. “They've always been like this.”

A little girl. A small child having the procedure that almost killed him. She definitely would live as long as he does. “It's bone, they added the metal.”

Laura observed her claws, hand swivelling. She had never known them to be bone. Would they even be effective?

“It's alright, though,” he shrugged, giving her a cheesy thumbs up. “You have Blade and me to keep you company.” Laura smiled and rolled her eyes. “Are you Claire?”

~~

The next few days were okay. You were still achy and found it difficult to move but you weren't totally invalid.

In fact you were playing with your newest toy. A telecommunication device. Or a phone.

Wade had burst into the front room, you all collectively sat in, paper bags in hand.

“Guys, I hope you know how odd it was for me to walk in there and ask for five phones. They thought I was a drug dealer.”

Blind Al kissed her teeth. “You could've been buying company phones, idiot.”

“Oh.” Wade slumped. “Maybe it was the meth I offered the cashier…” He handed each of you a box and squeezed himself between Gambit and Al.

There were two sofas that you all were occupying. You were sitting next to Logan, a blanket covering the two of you. Laura was sitting on the floor in front of you, she had done so you could braid her hair but decided to stay. El was perched on the arm of Al’s sofa, Gambit and Wade next to Al, and Blade was standing at Logan's side.

The setup of each phone was easy. Technology was a lot faster than you remembered.

El spoke before you all got distracted. “We have to save each other's numbers.” She knew the collective braincell liked to wander.

Each of you read out your number whilst the others typed it in. But as that happened the phones asked for a contact picture. Now that caused chaos.

El was smiling sweetly in the first pic and looked like she was being held hostage in the last. Gambit had his eyes shut and a middle finger up in practically every one. Blade was exactly the same, it was eerie, he stood statue still as you all snapped him. Laura’s eyes were confused but she did force a smile. You threw up a peace sign just for Wade to tell you it wasn't 2001 anymore. Wade had a different pose for each phone and they were all more elaborate than the last. Al didn't want to participate at all. And finally Logan, much like Laura, faked a smile until you and her took the pics.

Photos were fun. You liked photos. You'd had a trusty Polaroid back in the day and loved snapping pictures, but this was amazing. The photos were really detailed and you had them all saved in a ‘gallery’.

“You happy with the camera?” Logan asked as he saw you in the settings reading what each symbol meant.

“Yeah it's really good and I can take front facing photos.” You smiled at yourself. “Look!” Logan's eyes dropped to his face and he raised an eyebrow as you tapped the button. He huffed out a disbelieving laugh and you snapped again. “You're smiling!” You giggled to yourself, leaning forward. “Laura look.” Laura was playing about with dark mode and she turned her head to see you and her. “We can take a photo.”

Laura smiled and you poked your tongue out as you snapped. You made a heart shape with your hand and got her to copy it, snapping another.

“Logan, get in.” You begged.

He sighed - completely for show - and moved closer. “This angle is all chins.”

You frowned.

“Laura, come and sit up here.” He pat the slither of space between you two. She complied and you tried to get everyone in. “Y/N angle the phone.” You did as instructed and you all smiled.

The phone was heavy in your hands and an awkward shape, your old phone was a flip and easier to hold. “Do the heart thing whilst I hold this.”

The wolverines did.

You took some more, without noticing Wade was in the background, and eventually ceased, sixty-four photos later.

“This is so much fun.”

Wade watched you swiping through the photos, “Just you wait, pumpkin, ‘til you get a hold of the apps.”

“Apps?”

“Like little things on your phone.” He scrunched his face. “Like Snapchat or Instagram or Facebook.”

“I know Facebook.” You nodded. “It was an internet thing, like MySpace.”

“Now it's on an app.”

“Oh.” Was all you had in response. Wade showed you how to get to the app store - Logan, carefully, watching to make sure he wasn't being a little shit - and showed you how to ‘download an app’.

“I have to put my phone number in?” You stared at the screen.

“If that's what it says.” Wade had noticed Al and Gambit speaking again so upped and left. He laid himself across the two of them. “Just follow the steps.”

Okay.

You could do that.

Shit.

The first hurdle.

It asked for your date of birth.

Technically your date of birth was different now, no?

“What do I put?” You asked Logan over Laura's head. “I'm not that old.”

“Just do the maths, put the correct day and month but subtract the years.” He suggested.

“My date of birth would mean I can't have this app.” Laura commented. “Not over eighteen.” She had followed the instructions Wade told you and was now in the same dilemma.

“Do the same but backwards.” Logan tried.

You both, then, had to pick a profile picture. You had the photos on your phone and picked one of you three.

“I don't have a photo of myself.” Laura pressed the camera button and jumped. “Do-do I just take one?”

You smiled. “If you want to.”

“You don't have to have a picture.” Logan supplied.

Laura bit her lip but did decide to take one, she gave a small smile. “Is that okay?”

“You look lovely.” You squeezed her arm.

The two of you had just finished messing about with Facebook when you both received a notification.

‘Elektra Natchios had sent a friend request’, you looked up at her and quickly added.

Gambit and Blade didn't delve into Facebook, the former said he couldn't be bothered the latter told you it was too public.

You suppose Blade is right. But at the same time this is familiar. This is a way to find people. To potentially seek out your family. Or at least see if they exist.

You were just putting the phone away when another friend request popped up. ‘Logan Howlett has sent you a friend request’. He had no profile picture or cover photo and no posts. He did have friends, some of whom you recognised as the X-Men.

“Do you speak to them?” You swivelled your phone, displaying the friends.

“Charles has told them who I am and why I'm here. They accept anyone, they were eager to listen to my story. Probably waiting for you, now.”

“I don't think I can just add them.” Your fingers hovered over Hank’s fuzzy face.

“Then don't.”

“Why don't you have any pictures?”

“I don't really do pictures.”

You weren't too quick but opened your gallery. “You did here.”

“That was with you two.” He gave you a half shrug. “It's different.”

~~

Texting was fun.

You taught Laura all the old slang you used to use. BRB, LOL, TTYL, 411.

Laura did use some of them but preferred to text properly, she had spent a good portion of her time in EDEN and the Void learning basic reading and writing, why would she throw that away?

You were laying in Logan's bed, having claimed it four days ago, listening as his TV played music. He had shown you how to go onto YouTube via the TV and you were very much a fan of these Apps. You did feel a little guilty because you had effectively intruded on his space but his bed was comfy and smelled like him. God it was heavenly.

Why did he smell so good?

Y/N: nighty night beautiful x

Laura: Goodnight x

You had drilled into Laura the importance of kisses. A kiss at the end of the text was vital.

You came out of your messages, having texted the others ‘night’.

Gambit: see ya tomorrow

El: Night, love x

Blade: night

It was a routine you all wouldn't dare abandon. Whether or not you lived in this apartment all your lives you knew you'd all stick to saying goodnight. You had done for five years.

You pressed on Logan's name and sent him a message.

“Why are you texting me?” Logan called through the wall. You could hear his footsteps, sitting up, you waited. It wasn't long before the door was opened and Logan revealed himself.

Jesus. H. Christ.

Why was he shirtless? Your brain short circuited whenever his wide chest and mouth watering abs were in view. His torso was covered in soft hair your fingers itched to grab.

“I-I was just saying ‘night’.” You snapped your jaw shut.

“Oh, I thought you needed me.” He ran a hand through his hair.

You liked his short hair but you missed his fluffy locks. Nothing better than running your hands through them.

You were both now just gazing at each other.

He looked glorious, you felt self conscious. He could literally be a Grecian God, you could picture statues being made in his honour.

“You wanna-” Your eyes darted away. “You wanna sit with me?”

Why were you so awkward?

This was your husband friend.

Logan’s eyes widened an inch but he did nod. “Yeah sure.”

He made his way to the right side and plonked down. His weight caused you to slide a little over but you quickly righted yourself. You plucked the remote off of your knees and turned David Bowie down.

“I wanted to thank you.” You fiddled with the remote. “And I'm sorry I've stolen your bed.”

Logan shrugged. “You weren't well and I'd never kick you out of my bed.”

He was admitting things that were as innocent as they were damning.

“You're cute.”

“Hmm.” He raised his brow. “I remember you claiming that.”

There wasn't much more to say, instead you both listened as ‘ashes to ashes’ changed to ‘modern love’.

“This was my favourite song.” You commented, leaning your temple on his shoulder.

“I remember.” He agreed.

Pulling your head up in shock, “you do?”

“Yeah.” His eyes glanced at the screen. “My Y/N liked it too.”

“Do you- is this weird?”

“I don't know.”

“Do you miss your Y/N?”

He considered the question. “I didn't have enough of her. I think I missed the 'what ifs' and now I know you and him were married, it feels worse. What about you?”

“I miss him, it is a little weird to see you walking around with his face. It's odd because we slept together and I am attracted to you but there's that obstacle. Now the world isn't ending, we have to face the consequences of our actions, you know?” You hoped he understood what you meant. “Is it wrong to want you? You are so much like him yet I don't know you.”

You had said a lot of really important things, however he was stuck on just one. “You want me?”

That caused you to chuckle. “Of course, look at yourself. Sex on legs.”

He didn't care for moral dilemmas the way you did. You wanted him. He wanted you. It may just be his animal brain but, surely, that was the end of it.

“I mean you almost killed me walking in here all shirtless and tanned.”

You were trying to joke to defuse the tension but his eyes told you it wasn't working. They were heavy, lidded and staring straight into your soul. “As if you in my shirt, in my bed, hasn't done the same.” He spoke directly to your lips.

Oh yeah. For quickness you had borrowed a shirt, using it as a nightie. “Please, I'm not nearly as gorgeo-”

He cut you off with a kiss.

You melted.

Of course you did.

It was Logan.

Your hands found his cheek and chest. Both threading through the respective hair.

Logan slid his tongue across your bottom lip in a silent question and you were quick to answer. He kissed you frantically, needing you more than oxygen.

You were slowly being pressed into the mattress. It was a perk of the Adamantium, he was heavier than he meant and that solid mass turned you on.

You had to break the kiss to catch your breath and he merely explored your neck. Your ragged breaths were now being cut off as you spluttered and gasped.

Fuck.

Your hand on his cheek had meandered to his nape where you tugged at the hair as you twitched in pleasure, your back arching.

What were you saying earlier?

Consequences of actions?

None of that mattered when he bit down.

The position that he had manoeuvred you in caused your left leg to wrap around his hip as he kept nipping your neck. He loved to mark you.

Even if he didn't ‘claim’ you as his, back in the day, everyone knew because he would mark you. It was the animal in him. He needed the world to know who you belonged to.

“Logan.” You let out a breathy whisper against his temple.

The man raised his head to gaze into your eyes. Fuck. They were blown wide.

“Tell me to stop.” He warned.

You couldn't. Why would you?

Your response was a silent head shake.

Logan's eyes landed back onto your lips and he dipped to devour them.

His hands, that had been at your sides, were moving in opposite directions. One slid up to rest just under your breast and the other travelled down. Fingers tickling a path down to your core.

He played with the waistband of your underwear, pulling it taught against you and watching the wet patch smear.

Logan smirked and kissed your chin, then your neck, your collar bone, spent a while on your chest - licking and biting, claiming you, yet again - and then your stomach and finally kissed the material just above your core.

He swiped his tongue along the fabric and barely loosened his hold, before tearing it with his teeth.

By fuck.

This man would kill you one day.

The torn fabric hung loosely as he nuzzled his way between your folds, forcing your thighs over his shoulders. His nose separated the slick lips as he then ran his tongue across them. He fluttered his tongue around the wet hole and collected the slick on his muscle before depositing it on your clit. He took extra care caressing the sensitive bud, swirling his tongue sweetly.

The noises that came out of your mouth were whorish, you sounded like a two-bit 80s porn star and he loved every one.

Eventually Logan added a finger to your hole, it eased in, and curled it as he pumped his hand.

You tried so hard to keep it down, to try to sound less pornographic, but he was a monster. He knew how to get you going. In fact you were on the verge right now. Any second you'd be cumming on his finger.

“Keep going.” You begged.

Logan hummed in response and it vibrated your clit.

“Fuck, do that again.”

He began humming as he added a second finger and you saw stars. You clamped down and let out a moan as you came.

He kept pumping his fingers and lapped up your slick until you groaned and tapped his shoulder to give you a moment's respite.

Logan stilled his tongue with a frown but kissed your thighs, biting the pillowy flesh.

“Shit.” You looked down, dazed, at his smug face. “Fuck, you're perfect.”

“I can take my time with you now.” He admitted. “I couldn't back in the Void, not like I wanted to.”

“You did a pretty good job then, too.” You recalled.

He rolled his eyes but continued placing languid kisses on your abdomen. “You are the perfect one. This pussy is delicious.”

His devotion caused you to bite your lip. “Fuck me.” You order.

“I like it down here.” He suggested nuzzling his nose on your clit.

Your argument died with the groan that forced its way out of you.

He sucked at your clit and you swore you ripped strands of his hair out. It was a shame because his hair was so soft.

Logan lapped at your pussy all he wanted, building you up slowly.

“Do me a favour?” He spoke between your folds, they muffled him a little. “Hands and knees?”

You nodded, deliriously and eased your way up, spinning to present yourself like a needy bitch.

Logan growled at the sight, your dripping pussy spread for him.

He buried his face, again, but carried on upwards. His tongue now circling your other hole. You twitched at the new sensation but found you enjoyed it just as much so let him have his fun.

He kept playing with you, teasing you with his fingers until you were shaking.

“Logan.” You warned.

He seemed to understand because he kept the same rhythm, rather than interrupting, and you came again.

He milked your orgasm again and licked a stripe from your clit to your ass, across your spine and back up to your neck.

“Mine.” He growled in your ear as you felt his tip line up. Both of his hands were on you, underneath his shirt, caressing your tits so it amazed you that you felt him notch and slowly ease his head into you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure as he pulled out and pushed back in, the hole so wet it squelched louder than you could moan.

He huffed, unhappy with your shirt and ripped another item of clothing you were wearing. The shirt was discarded behind you but the waistband of your panties still sat on your hips, slowly moving higher with each thrust.

You knew he was holding himself back, afraid he'd hurt you, so as he pushed in you pushed back.

You cried out as he hit that spot inside you. “Harder.”

Logan caught your drift and picked up the pace. It really didn't take a lot of convincing.

He slammed into you from behind, pushing you further into the mattress, making you present yourself more.

He sat up and if he could die, he wanted this to be the last thing he saw.

You were amazing.

He collected all of your hair and eased you upwards, once again, nipping at your nape. There was something about the nape that transfixed him. He loved your smell and you smelt the most from your nape, he adored it but his own mingled with yours was something else entirely.

He needed you.

It was so painfully obvious.

How had he not admitted that to his version of you?

What a fucking idiot he was.

“Lo.” You could only say his name but he knew. You were close.

“Mmhmm.” He agreed, nibbling your earlobe. “I need another one, c’mon.”

You couldn't even hear his request over your third orgasm. This was different though. This was wetter. You instantly worried, what was happening? But Logan gasped.

“Fuck.” He stuttered inside you, pushing you down as his claws made an appearance at each side of your shoulders. “Fuck did you just squirt?”

“I-I don't know.” Your voiced muffled into the pillow, a hand patted your utterly soaked legs. “I've not done that before.”

He groaned, still rocking inside you. Logan held himself up via his claws and pounded into you with a whole new energy. He was frantic, frenzied. It didn't take long for him to spill inside.

His claws still barely held his weight but he wouldn't crush you.

“Shit, sorry.” He spoke once his senses returned. “I should've as-”

“Shut up, that was more than fine.” You panted against the pillow.

Logan kissed your temple and slowly retracted from the mattress and you. As soon as he was out you felt empty.

“Hmm.” You grumbled.

“What?” He chuckled.

“Put it back in.”

Logan knew you were real but he found himself in disbelief that someone this perfect could exist.

“Let's swap positions and I will.” He flopped over onto his spine and you followed sheathing his dick back into you.

You groaned and found yourself relaxing onto his chest.

This was possibly the best day you'd ever had.

“I'm sleepy but wake me up in an hour and we can do that again.” You gave him a cheeky wink.

Part 7

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