#hardest colour ever for me

[ladysiryna]

Silly little mages and their silly little gate realms.

...

I forgot how to draw in the process.

[racingliners]

@f1blrcreatorsfest week 3: music artist inspired

Alex Albon x Chasing Lights - The Saturdays

[reignpage]

How the JJK men react to you being in a coma

Satoru is devastated

It’s a deadly silence that envelopes you as he carries you to safety, face stone cold and grip tight. Even as you’re being patched up, laid down on a hospital bed, he doesn’t say a word. Just stares and watches every bruise fade, every wound heal, and for the heaviness in your limbs to wash away. But your eyes don’t open. No one says the obvious. 

Lying on the bed with you, he cradles your head to his chest and whispers, “This is the closest to losing you I ever want to get.”

You’re practically locked away after that. He takes over your teaching duties, and he works overtime to ensure the area is as safe as can be whilst you recover, intent on making sure that when you wake up, all you have to do is make it up to him with hugs and kisses. Every curse that runs into him faces a slow and brutal death as he takes out every ounce of his pain on them. None of it is enough. No number of curses slain will bring you to consciousness. For every hour you slumber, Satoru loses sleep.

"I always knew you like to nap but this is just excessive, sweets. Leave some beauty for the rest of us, yeah?"

No one has ever seen him more serious.

"Please?"

Suguru is motivated

You weren’t supposed to get hurt. You weren’t supposed to be there at all. Finding you, lying in a puddle of your own blood send shivers of wrath coursing through his veins. It was them. Those filthy monkeys. Seeing you barely able to open your eyes is a kind of pain only non-sorcerers could cause.

As you sleep life away, he busies himself with plans, double checking everything is airtight and all will proceed as expected. He can’t let you get hurt again. He won’t let them hurt you again. “Hi, pretty girl. I’ve been gone, haven’t I? I’m sorry.”

You're taken care of by Nana and Mimi and every single shaky smile they hide from him steels his resolve even further.

"Yes, I think that colour suits her well. She always did love when you painted her nails. Why don't you do mine too? We can all match."

Manoeuvring you onto his chest, he pretends you’re merely napping. He decides, there and then, he’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that the world you wake up to is one that’s safe for you, for your family, for your future.

Even if that world is devoid of him. 

Choso is panicked

He’s fussing, hands flying as he warns them to be careful of you. Every lack of sound of pain, of agony, and anguish from you makes him pull on his hair harder. You’ve always been the stronger one out of the two of you, so to see you limp, weak and silenced, sends his newfound heart racing. Even when it’s just the two of you, he runs around the house, fluffing up your pillow, getting you a glass of water, placing a warm towel on your forehead. 

“I don’t know what to do. You’re supposed to be the one who tells me what to do.”

Putting more hours sparring, he pushes his body to the limit, dedicated to getting stronger and better. He wants to protect you. To make sure you’re never in this position again. And though he’s always wanted to experience every part of being a human, grief is something he can do without. 

"I'll be fine, Yuji. Hit me harder. I can take it. No, I have to. Y/n needs me. I'm no good to her like this."

Toji is terrified

This can’t be happening again. He can’t lose someone else again. Someone so special to him, who taught him how to love again, to live and to know it’s okay to want more. "You promised you'd never put me in this position. You fucking promised."

You’re safer without him. You have people to take care of you. He'll only get in the way.

Leaving is the hardest thing he’s ever done. Every step feels like needles are pricking his feet, stabbing him in the heart somehow. He barely makes it a mile before his thoughts drift to you and stay there.

He thinks about you, weak and recovering. What if you wake up and no one’s there? Not a single family member or friend. He thinks about how you’ll croak his name, force your body up and search the house for him, limping. He imagines your legs will give up on you and you’ll fall, hurting yourself more.

The thought steals his breath and knocks him back. Rushing home, he drops his getaway bag and creeps into bed, holding you gently against him. 

“I’m here. I’m here, ma. I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”

Kento is ruined

His wife. His beautiful wife, losing the light in your eyes as he holds you. Gone is your smile, your warm touch and is instead replaced with shivering and shallow breaths. The noise that comes out of him is guttural and broken. "Oh, d-darling. Look at this mess. Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"

You’re alive but sleeping. And he doesn’t know when you’ll wake. It feels as if you’re floating in that space between the world of the living and the dead, and he wants to follow. 

He never leaves your side. He freshens the flower by your bedside table, keeps a tight schedule of visitors. None of them can touch you, they can’t speak too loudly and they can’t complain by your ear about their personal lives — he only wants you to be surrounded by positive energy. 

“You’ll wake up soon, won’t you, sweetheart? Yes. Yes, you will because you always take care of me. You’ll tell me off for not shaving, for not eating and for pushing everyone away, wouldn’t you?"

Maintaining your routine, he washes your face, puts on face masks, and reads aloud by your side, hoping that a particularly dramatic prose will provoke a reaction from you.

"I need my wife. I need you. What am I supposed to do without you? Won’t you open your eyes for me? For your Kento?”

Sukuna is confused

He’s in disbelief as he's ushered into the room where you rest. Everyone is in a state of disarray and for what, he has no idea. You’re merely sleeping. He pokes your cheek. “Wake up, woman. Tell these pathetic fools to stop their useless quivering.”

When you don’t, he frowns. Brows furrowing, he tilts his head and examines your body. You’re breathing and he can hear your heart beating, and yet you don’t respond to his commands.

How insolent.

Waving the peasants away, he shakes your shoulder. “Your king has given an order. Follow it immediately or face punishment”

Even once he has it explained to him, he can’t wrap his head around the concept of you sleeping indefinitely, though he’s once gone through it himself. You’re different. Better. You’re supposed to be filled with endless optimism and energy. You’re supposed to be bothering him about smiling, pulling him to the garden to look at a flower he’s seen before.

"Humans really are f-fragile creatures. Ridiculous."

Tutting, he rolls his eyes and grumbles about how you’re not even making space for him on the bed. There, lying with you, he can do nothing but slumber and wait for your soul to reignite, sparking his once more.

[luveline]

hotch’s daughter and him looking thru baby n childhood pics n realizing just how much they missed angst (her missing out on having a present father n him missing out on raising her)

Aaron’s winded when he sees you that morning. You’re smiling, in sweatpants and a hoodie with a bag on your shoulder that promises an overnight stay, but what hits hardest is the way you light up when he opens the front door. He sees you coming through the window and can’t wait for you to knock. 

“Hey, honey, you’re early!” he says. 

“I know,” you say, stopping just a paving stone away, “but I got this magic jigsaw for Jack that I thought he’d like. Once you complete it you can move it around and create a new jigsaw in the middle.” You smile. “You look happy. Good breakfast?” 

“I’m happy to see you, that’s all.” 

You cross that last step. “Thanks, dad.” You bite your bottom lip, ever so slightly bashful. 

He literally couldn’t be happier. “Did you eat?” 

Aaron brings you inside. Jack is already awake and eating his second breakfast in a meandering picking by the TV. 

You love being a big sister. It’s all the more endearing. “Hey, babe. What are you upto?” you ask. 

Jack whirls and sends a couple of grapes flying. “Oh my gosh yes!” he says, to your laughter and Aaron’s disbelief. He races across the rug in a blur of blue pyjamas to wrap himself around your thighs, face pressed to your hip. “You’re here!” 

“We said Saturday sleepover, right?” 

You get down on your knees to hug him. Your arms around his back, your face to his, you aren’t as rough as you could be —how do sisters hug their brothers? Aaron doesn’t know. But you rub his back in a gentle up and down and lower your voice to say hello. “Hi, Jack. You’re happy to see me?” 

“I’m so happy.” 

“Me too, I’m so happy. I brought you something.” 

“A present?” Jack asks, leaning out of your arms. 

“Not really, it’s for me and you, but I brought you cookies too.” 

“Dad,” Jack says, “can we have some?” 

Aaron holds up a finger. One cookie is enough sugar for the morning. “We can have a couple more after dinner tonight, okay?” 

You take the cookies from your bag, a huge box of palm-sized cookies, chocolate chips shaped like stars, the best kind of indulgence from the bakery not far from here. Aaron catches a look at the inside of your bag, spying a slim white photo album against your weekly medication divider and the plastic wrapped jigsaw puzzle. 

“What’s the album?” he asks. 

“Oh.” You slide your thumb along the sticker that seals the cookies and crack them open for Jack to take his spoils. “They’re my baby photos.” 

He stills. “They are?” 

“And some of me growing up.” You tip your head at him and smile. A little shy, more happy. “I was thinking about Jack, how we both do that chokey laugh when we’re tired, and I wondered if we had any other similarities. And then I realised you’ve never actually seen any of my photos. Would you want to look at them?” 

“Please,” he says immediately. “Yes. I’d love to see them.” 

You lay the album out on the coffee table. Aaron sits beside you on the couch, and Jack sits on his feet, and together you look through your baby album one page at a time. At first, he’s quiet. He has no idea what to say. You are a beautiful kid, you’re perfect, little baby you with a pacifier on your tummy, or in the summer sun with mud on your little hands, wearing a pink dress with matching canvas shoes and a smile so wide he can see all your baby teeth, or sitting beside a fish tank with a party hat on. 

His favourite is a photograph of you that’s been printed oddly, more sepia than colour, where you look to be eight or nine years old. He can see everything in your adult face right there in ink, your smile, the trusting warmth in your eyes when you love the person it’s directed at. Maybe he’s full of himself, but he swears it’s his smile, and Jack’s smile. Hotchner through and through. 

“I wish I’d seen you in person,” he says quietly. “Just once.” 

You tease the photograph from the plastic sleeve and offer it to him. “Sorry.” 

He doesn’t want you to be sorry. Aaron takes the photograph and stares at it against his leg, your little face, your hands behind your back, your left knee wrapped in a bandage. “We missed out on so much,” he says softly. 

“I know.” 

He places the photo on the armrest, precious and needing a frame. You melt into his arm as he wraps it around your shoulder, and you let him kiss your temple, even if he doesn’t deserve to do it yet. He’s polite about it, he knows his sincerity might feel gratuitous to you —after all, he missed out on so much. But you don’t go rigid at his affection, you just breathe. 

“I would’ve loved to have seen it,” he says, too old for tears, and yet a warmth collects behind his eyes anyhow. He won’t cry, only the feeling is there and aching as you move back and give him a typical Hotchner smile. Like he’s being silly, and like you love him. 

“It’ll be okay,” you say, “you’ve got, what, a good ten years left? You can see my golden years.” 

He laughs suddenly. “Ten? How old do you think I am?” 

“You act like you’re nearing seventy.” 

“Oh, I do?” 

You roll your eyes and lean across the photo album for another cookie. “You do! I wish we didn’t have to wait so long to meet, but it’s not like I’m going anywhere. You won’t find me so charming in a few years, so don’t worry. Now, could you leave me and Jack alone for a bit? I’m trying to sneak him another cookie and you’re getting in the way.” 

Aaron hugs you whether you want him to or not, a tight squeeze that you always seem to enjoy, before doing as you’ve asked, promising to find the jigsaw board in the garage so you and Jack can start the newest one. 

“Did you miss him?” he hears Jack asks inexplicably. 

“Who, dad?” Aaron watches you from the door that leads into the garage. He can only see your hands from this angle, your left one landing on Jack’s shoulder for a small squeeze. “I missed him so much you couldn’t believe it.” 

“Thank you for the cookie.” 

“You’re welcome! I missed you too, you know? I have to make up for all my lost time being your big sister. Here, you can hide this one in your pocket, if you want. Just don’t forget it’s there.” 

[moon-ttokki-x]

stylist!reader x seungmin or jeongin??? any scenario!!

hi hi~ i needed more seungmin and jeongin requests . . . been wanting to write for them so bad but i couldn't think of anything lol . anyway, here you goo~~~

₊✩‧₊˚ stylist!reader x kim seungmin ˚₊✩‧₊

pairing: stylist!reader x kim seungmin

summary: being seungmin's stylist has its perks (mostly)

genre: idol!au, stylist!au, cheeky boy, soft and fluffy, mentions of jyp (yes that needs a warning), please bring back doberman seungmin he was my fav :(

a/n: sorry idk who made this divider . . . if it was you lmk so i can tag and credit u <3

skz masterlist

you have to drag him everywhere

like by his literal collar

or whatever it is that he's wearing

bc this man does not want to walk

like

anywhere

drag him to the mirror, drag him behind a curtain to fix his outfit

it never ends

and he moves around a lot too while you're doing his makeup

more than once you've gotten chan to hold his jaw shut so you can powder it or fix up his contour

and he always stares at you while you do it

with his little meanie face

you know the one he makes where he's trying to be scary but it doesn't work on anyone so he's just like >:|

yeah that one

complains a lot about his appearance to piss you off

'i don't like the eye makeup' 'i hate this shirt'

it never ends but you're used to it so he kind of gives up after a while

when you got assigned to him, he would stare into your eyes while you were doing his makeup to try and make you fumble

bc let's be honest no one could focus if kim seungmin was staring into their soul

but you got used to that too and now you just ignore it

you always get him to tell you how he's feeling on a certain day so you can sort of match his outfit and makeup to his vibe

if he's in a good mood, lots of scarlet reds and brighter colours

if he's just neutral, then dewy pinks and purples

and if he's having a bad day, lots of metallic silver and black

of course his appearance still has to match the other members' vibes

but you always try to make it a little more special

seungmin would never admit it but he appreciates that so much

most of your job is just looking for him to be honest

like man literally disappears and gets distracted by the tiniest things

there's a bird outside? gone

hyunjin has his back turned and is therefore vulnerable to attack? gone

there's no reason for him to go anywhere?

gone

you've debated putting a tracker in his outfit like a literal dog but you decided against it because it's like playing hide and seek

which is kinda fun

usually he's busy doing something random or looking out the window

or pissing his members off

if worst comes to worst and you can't find him, you just threaten to call chan and he materialises out of thin air

which is kinda funny

and when he won't stay still to let you fix his outfit, you threaten to dress him like jyp

that always works lmao

he just goes absolutely rigid and his eyes go all wide

'please don't'

and you'll just fix his collar or his boots or whatever and off he goes again

multiple times you've told him to put accessories on before he goes on stage

but he always forgets

you've had to drag him backstage countless times before the group went on to perform bc he's forgotten to do what you said

you'll have super steady and nimble hands after a while bc trying to clip a chain necklace on a hyped-up puppy boy is one of the hardest things

like ever

he's just raring to go lol

always runs up to you after performing all sweaty and excited

'did you see me? when i did that move'

or something along those lines

he truly is so soft and sweet but he'll never admit it

and you'll nod and he's have the biggest shiniest prettiest boy smile on his face

stop i'm sad

most of the time he sweats all of his makeup off

and then sheepishly bows to you and apologises for ruining all your hard work

but you shake your head and tell him with a smile that it's fine

and it is, really

he looks hotter when he's all sweaty

huh? what

i didn't say anything

yes i did

after he's warmed up to you

and it takes a while, i'm gonna be completely honest

he refuses to let anyone else do his hair, makeup, or outfit

he just wants you

because you always make sure he can dance properly in his outfit, and that his hair isn't in his eyes, or that he likes his makeup

you would never make him wear anything that makes him uncomfortable either

you're always asking for his input on certain outfit ideas and he tells you honestly what he thinks

and you just take his feedback and make outfits for him that he'll be comfortable in

which makes him swoon for you

again, he would never say anything to you about how he's starting to feel

maybe one day, he thinks he might be able to

until then, he'll settle for looking at your pretty face while you do your thing <3

a/n: yomg i wanna be a skz stylist so baddd (seungmin if ur reading this one chance pls)

ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585

send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !

[noma-is-here]

Horse Race Tests is not a Tragedy

(apologies to the people expecting Deltarune content, i’m going to talk about bouncy, crudely drawn horses for a second)

i know the ending looks pretty grim, but let me offer an alternative interpretation of the final race:

(line break to conserve space on your dash)

three horses stood against Jovial Merryment and Superstitional Realism; A Mysterious Figure, Garbage Bin, and Nighttime Knifemare.

first of all, i believe all the mutant horses/NightMares are a product of Cyan’s mind and represent some aspect of how she views her past failure(s).

Mysterious Figure obviously represents Superstitional Realism through their similarity in colour. Cyan thought that she finally found someone in Superstitional Realism who wouldn’t leave her behind in the dust like all the other horses. But she was wrong, Realism eventually outran her too (someone had to win the race after all. once Realism realised that Cyan wouldn’t be able to reach the carrots, she took them instead to end the race).

i see Garbage Bin as a representation of Cyan’s own self-image and self-worth. After so many losses, she sees herself as incapable and undeserving of any success whatsoever. she thinks she belongs, well, in the Garbage Bin. the fact that Garbage Bin is also the closest in colour to Cyan can support this too.

Nighttime Knifemare is the hardest one to interpret, but based on the very sharp sounding name, as well as the fact Jovial suddenly appeared for the last race, i’m going to go out on a limb and say that it represents how Cyan believes the other horses (besides Realism) think of her. Cyan believes that the other horses—just like herself—see her as worthless, that they hate her for taking up space on the track, that they don’t care about her.

the last race disproves all of these false beliefs. Realism returned: she didn’t leave Cyan behind. Jovial joined the race to save Cyan: the other horses do care about her.

and lastly, who won the race? it wasn’t Realism, who Cyan lost to on her last chance at a real win. and it wasn’t Jovial, the best to ever do it. it was little old Garbage Bin. against all odds, against her own best friend, against the best horse on the track, she got to the carrots first. all on her own.

Jovial and realism could disprove that no one cared about Cyan, but only Cyan herself could disprove that she is incapable of winning. and she did exactly that. the carrots in this race were cyan too. she found herself again :)

credit to @scarkissr for the inspiration to this Cyan

(i’m kind of tired, so forgive me if this isn’t 100% coherent)

[tojisun]

!! minors dni; simon x cam girl f!reader; kinda sexting; UNEDITED and RAMBLING // divider by @/plutism <3

yall know those ‘ask me’ thingies in instagram and how theyre not anonymous? mmmprmn thinkin about simon finally giving in and sends cam girl! reader replies (he’s not tech savvy, forgive him 😔)

the questions are always fashioned the same way, he’s noticed. you only ever post those, anyway, when you’re in the middle of editing a new video but it’s taking too long so to keep your loyal viewers interested, you entertain them with little questions.

“which toy next?” you posted, showcasing four different sex toys splayed on your bed—a purple sucking vibrator, that bullet vibrator you’ve made multiple videos on, a rainbow-coloured dildo, and another one that squirts which is simon’s favourite if he’s being honest.

you always did cum the hardest when you’re being pumped full. simon wonders how much more intense would it be if you were properly fucked and filled; stuffed continuously, repeatedly, until your pussy’s all wet and sensitive. until it takes—

overtaken by his desire, he gives in and he types out his answer, “a real prick would look better in you.”

he didn’t expect you to see it, let alone for you to reply, but you did and simon reads it with a huff.

> ok troll

i’d volunteer myself, really. <

> yeah right. like i can trust you

what? you want proof that i can make you feel good? <

your reply doesn’t come in and he knows that you must want the whole interaction to end there, but simon won’t let you—doll, he’s finally managed to talk to the girl he’s been fantasizing about, did you really think he’d let the opportunity pass? you don’t even know how many times he’s fucked his fist to the videos of you bullying a dildo in your sopping cunt or the ones of you squirting while you ride that saddled vibrator that punches out guttural moans from the base of your throat.

jesus, just thinking about you mewling and creaming, your skin shimmering with your sweat, has simon chubbing up in his sweats.

so he gets bolder, changing his accounts—both this and the one he’s used to subscribe to your site—so that you know it’s him. he uploads pictures, exposing enough of himself that it feels real and authentic, and begins to tack on messages to every tips he gives.

it takes about two months until you finally caved.

> so… youre not a troll :(

why the sad face? did you want me to be? <

> course not!

> hby? what do YOU want

simon licks at his chapped lips, his legs unconsciously spreading already.

how about pics? show you what i was volunteering? <

> uh

> you wanna send a dick pic?

yeah. evens out the relationship, don’t it? after all, i just about know how your pussy looks and how it squirts. <

> youre soooo weird LOL

> but sure yea why not ig

simon snorts because try as you may, you don’t sound unbothered at all. after all, he knows you’ve been looking back at him—you followed him back in his socials, you even respond to all his tips and messages, and one time you even moaned his alias out loud during your stream. really, you’re not subtle with your own interest at all.

he pulls his sweats down and takes a pic of his half-chub. it’s a little blurry, and the angle captures more of the tuft of hair than the way his cock’s all flushed and filling-out, but simon knows what a decent dick picture looks like—they’ve all received numerous from mactavish—and this one looks good enough so he sends it to you and watches as his message goes from delivered to seen.

you don’t reply right away, nor after three minutes—he knows because the commercials ended and his game’s back on—and simon wonders if you’re back to ignoring him when—

> oh

> thats a good dick

he laughs, booming.

oh so you want it now? <

a speech bubble appears, then it disappears, then it appears again. this happens for a while and it’s somewhat entertaining to simon, mirth filling him up. then, you finally send your reply and this time simon couldn’t stop the barked out laughter that rumbles from his throat because you sent him your address.

simon’s out the door in minutes, his bike keys clutched in his fist.

[dearmisshoney]

sniff, stroke, repeat

pairing. brother's bsf! theo x reader content/mdni. brother’s bsf! theo, degenerate! theo, unhinged! theo, sub! theo energy (he's losing it), pent-up! theo, fem! reader, enemies-to-lovers tension, solo masturbation (m), pantie stealing, pantie sniffing, cum play, obsession, scent kink (?), allusions to overstimulation, allusions to oral (f receiving), p in v implied/remembered, smut with little plot word count. 1.2k a/n. this happens after my full theo fic! i recommend reading that first, but it does make sense as a standalone as well. let me know what you think!

it was rare for theo to say no to a party. even as mattheo asks him one last time, on his way out of theo’s place, if he’s sure he wants to stay at home tonight, theo only weakly smiled at him.

“must be one hell of a virus, huh?” he heard mattheo mutter as he finally closed the front door shut, joining the other guys and departing for the party.

the strong clank of the door echoed through the area like a green light. theo was finally home alone, and he was grateful than ever for that.

“fuck, it’s so bad…”

the words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them, voice deep with amazement, he himself astounded by the state he was in. tossing away the pillow he has been keeping in his lap all this time, he was now face to face with his grey sweatpants.

and the hardest fucking boner he’d ever had in his entire life.

he wasn’t sick; he wouldn’t call this sickness.

being strangely jumpy and overstimulated could be signs of a flu. nonetheless, getting uncontrollably rock hard these past few days had nothing to do with it.

but he couldn’t tell mattheo the truth.

another kind of virus attacked him a few days back, plaguing his mind with nasty thoughts and making his cock ache with arousal more frequently than before. a sexy annoying virus, who rode the shit out of him and made him see stars. a virus with gorgeous tits and a hungry little cunt–

shit, he could no longer think straight.

closing his eyes and scrunching his face in annoyance, he dragged his hand against his face, trying to scrub away the sensual images of you.

but to no avail.

that night is deeply engraved in his mind, and, no matter what he did, he was constantly flashed with shameless scenes of you.

“that minx took my mind…”

a frustrated groan left his lips, irritated that you had such an effect on him. his groan was closely followed by a gasp of pleasure — his other hand dipped beneath the waistband of his pants, his palm making contact with bare skin.

“i hate her so much.”

hissing between his teeth, he grasped the length of his cock between shaky fingers. the underside was already sticky with precum, a thick trail seeping from his angry tip down to his very base.

it was a good idea to cover up with a pillow; otherwise, mattheo and the others would have seen the big patch of wetness on his sweats.

“she’s an annoying bitch–”

with slow, but sure strokes, theo began pumping his hand up and down his shaft. his words, cruel and venomous, were thrown out in the air in an attempt to convince himself that he did not like you at all.

which was quite ironic, considering he was jerking off to the thought of you.

“–nasty girl, taking these pictures–”

yeah, those pictures.

he managed to steal that polaroid of your tits from your grabby hands without much effort; you were exhausted after riding him so good, so you did not put up much of a fight. that image was now sealed nicely in his wallet, a token of his first night with you.

and if you asked past theo, he would have pronounced that polaroid as his most prized possession.

but now? oh no, he had something better.

finally removing his hand from his face, he trailed it downwards across his body, until it reached his sweats. but instead of joining his other hand, it trailed further down into his pocket.

pulling out a flimsy pair of panties.

and not just any pair… it’s the exact one you wore that night. the lovely colour of your lacey thong was stained with dry patches of arousal — a mix of your and his cum.

“–and this slutty thong.”

pinching the band of the thong with his digits, he spread the material as much as possible to better examine it. this pair stayed so close to your pussy being rammed by his cock, collecting all that sticky cum and getting more drenched than your sheets.

“fuuck, she was so wet and warm…”

his hand was speeding up at the sudden reminder, clenching stronger around his dick and fisting with desperation.

his hand was tight and slippery, but it was nothing compared to your sweet sweet cunt. he wanted to feel you again so bad — to grope at your perky tits and taste them on his tongue… to fuck up into your tight pussy as you thrust back into him like a good girl…

to drown in your scent and forget himself completely.

“i wanna taste her.”

your threat of sitting on his face if he misbehaves has been looming in the back of his mind for these past few days. just imagining your soft thighs squishing his head, your cunt pressed deliciously against his slimy tongue, your clit digging in his nose–

your panties. he had your panties.

“fuck it.”

clenching his hand around your panties, gathering the pair into a fist, he brought it to his nose. and, without a second thought, he took a strong whiff.

deep. hungry. depraved.

“oh my fucking god!”

his hand gripped his cock with renewed vigor, harsher, harder, rougher… mimicking the tightness of your pussy for his shaft to fuck back into it.

you were there, he could feel you — squeezing him like a vice.

you were there, he could smell you — so delicious.

your aroma flooded his senses with each press of your thong into his nostrils, his head lolling backwards from the overwhelming feeling of his approaching orgasm.

it was humiliating, really. one night with you. one fucking night with you made him act like a horny little teenager, popping a boner constantly and jerking off every moment of the day.

and even worse, for him to act like a degenerate, pressing your panties to his face and sniffing your aroma like a pervert…

“should’ve never let me have you. should’ve known i’d get addicted–”

theo was whining against your panties, his hand pushing them closer and closer against his nose. his hips were flying away from the couch now, thrusting faster into his fist, chasing his release.

“n–next time i am drowning in that puss– fuckkk”

next time he sees you he would crack your legs open and eat you out until you cry. he would rut into your bedsheets like a dog– would probably even cum in his pants like a loser.

but that doesn’t matter. he doesn’t matter.

“i am so fucked.”

was the last thing theo said before cumming all over his hand, his fingers drenched in creamy arousal. some of his release splashed onto his sweats and shirt as well, the muted grey turning even darker with each rope of cum landing on the material.

“what a mess.” he said between ragged breaths, finally removing the thong from his face.

his clothes were a complete mess, and so was he. his hair was tousled, his eyes blown-out with lust. lips wet and shaking, panting for air. legs twitching like hell, still overwhelmed by his orgasm.

but his cock was still standing firm between his fingers, pulsing harder than ever with need.

“i hate her, i hate her, i hate her–”

he chanted between whines, almost crying. latching your panties around his shaft, theo resumed his sloppy thrusts.

“i hate her, i hate h–”

a new splurge of cum already stained the lacy thong, joining the dry stains from before. and more was to come.

“hate her, hate her–“

he was uncurable.

tags: @downbad4reid, @cafechichay

[callsigns-haze]

Are You Kidding Me?

Pairing: Xaden Riorson x reader

After the war ends and Xaden is cured, you find out you're pregnant and quietly start preparing for the baby—until one innocent look at a onesie has you spiralling over the size of baby heads. Xaden tries to comfort you, but mostly ends up laughing as you dramatically mourn your future labour. Still, in the middle of all the teasing and ridiculous threats to name your child after Tairn, there's no mistaking the fierce love growing between you both—and not just for the baby.

⚠️ Content Warning: This story contains light-hearted pregnancy humour, dramatic groaning over labour fears, affectionate teasing, and excessive banter between deeply in-love idiots. Mild mentions of childbirth logistics and one (1) emotional moment that may cause unexpected feelings. Proceed with snacks and emotional support dragons.

You stared down at the tiny onesie in your hands, the fabric soft and dyed in a rich midnight blue—almost the same shade as Sgaeyl’s scales when she told Xaden he should try to convince you to rest instead of running combat drills.

It was adorable. The little snaps, the embroidered gryphon, the hood with tiny horns. You’d melted the second you saw it in the little market in Aretia and bought it without thinking.

Well, you’d bought five of them. In different colours. With matching mittens.

You were beaming when you got home—until, about five minutes later, curiosity ruined your bliss.

You glanced down at your bump—just the softest swell under your tunic—and then looked back at the baby clothes on the bed. More specifically, the size of the neck holes. Then your gaze dropped slowly to your legs.

“No,” you whispered. “Absolutely not.”

You picked up the onesie again, holding it by the shoulders and squinting like somehow it was the fabric’s fault. You paced back and forth in the bedroom you shared with Xaden, muttering calculations under your breath, comparing your hips to the fabric like a madwoman.

“This thing’s head is bigger than my—oh gods,” you wheezed.

The door creaked open behind you. “I’m almost afraid to ask,” came Xaden’s voice, amused and warm.

You turned around slowly, holding the onesie out like evidence of a crime. “Do you know how big their heads are?”

His brows rose, then furrowed. “...The babies?”

“Yes, the babies, Xaden.” You gestured wildly to the onesie. “Their heads are this big. This is supposed to come out of me. I don’t think I thought this through.”

He blinked, clearly trying not to laugh. “You… measured?”

“I’m thorough.” You shot him a glare. “Did you know this? Did you know how huge baby heads are?”

“I—” he choked, covering his mouth with his hand. “I mean, I figured you’d read a book or something?”

“I was too busy surviving a war and making out with a six-foot-five former venin duke to read a book about biology.”

That did it. He laughed—loud, full, head-tilted-back kind of laugh. You scowled and smacked the onesie against his chest. He caught it before it could fall and looked down at it, then back at you.

“You already bought clothes,” he said, voice softening as he reached for your hand. “You’re really doing this.”

You sighed and let him pull you into his arms, pressing your cheek against his chest. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I really am.”

He kissed the top of your head, his palm warm as it splayed across your back. “I guess I should start researching baby head dimensions.”

You groaned. “Don’t ever say that again.”

He chuckled. “Deal.”

It started as a low, guttural sound in the back of your throat—one of those dramatic, from-the-depths-of-your-core groans that turned into an actual wordless wail as you flopped face-first onto the bed.

“Uuughhhhhhhhh,” you moaned into the sheets. “This is not what I signed up for. Why did no one warn me? Why did you not warn me?”

Xaden just stood there with the baby outfit draped over one hand, brows raised, trying his hardest not to laugh as you buried your face deeper into the mattress and let out another prolonged, muffled groan.

“I fought wyvern,” you whined into the blankets. “I stared down quadrant leaders. I survived First Year and my mother. And this—this is what’s going to break me?”

Your voice cracked halfway through, which only made Xaden finally lose it. You heard him snort, then cough like he was trying to hide it, which only made you groan louder, full of despair and betrayal.

“You’re not helping!” you shouted into the mattress.

“I didn’t know I needed to warn you about...head circumference.”

You just groaned again.

Drawn-out. Dramatic. And utterly defeated.

Xaden tossed the onesie onto the bed and moved toward you, that smug little smirk playing at the corners of his mouth—the one that meant he was enjoying himself far too much for a man who didn’t have to physically push a tiny, big-headed person out of his body.

“You done?” he asked, crouching beside the bed and brushing your hair back from your face.

You shifted just enough to peek at him with one narrowed eye. “Do I look done?”

He laughed under his breath, resting his arms on the edge of the mattress so he could lean in close. “You look like you’re trying to mentally relocate your uterus to somewhere with a back door.”

“That’s not even funny,” you mumbled, flipping onto your side with a grunt. “There is no door. There’s no way out. Just this one tiny, horrifying tunnel.”

Xaden tilted his head, brows lifting. “I mean… we could always call a healer—”

“Oh my gods,” you cut him off, throwing a pillow at his head. He caught it easily, grinning now.

“You’re so lucky you’re pretty,” you muttered.

“I know,” he said smugly, tossing the pillow back on the bed and climbing in next to you. “But you’re stuck with me either way. And we’re stuck with one very well-endowed baby skull, apparently.”

You flopped back onto his chest with another groan, this one slightly more resigned than the last. “It’s not fair. Why is the head the biggest part? Why not feet? Feet I could deal with.”

Xaden was stroking your back now, trying and failing not to laugh again. “Feet would be far less aerodynamic.”

You hit him. Gently. But still.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I love you,” you muttered, pointing at his chest, “but if I go through twenty hours of labour and this kid pops out looking just like you, I’m going to make sure the entire quadrant knows who’s responsible.”

Xaden smirked, tugging you tighter into his arms. “Let me guess… huge head, dramatic flair, stupidly good hair?”

You squinted up at him, deadpan. “And an ego that can’t fit in a gryphon's saddlebag.”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “We’re gonna be fine.”

You sighed, curling closer to him. “You’re damn right we are. But if this baby’s head is bigger than yours, I’m naming them after Tairn.”

Xaden froze. “You wouldn’t.”

You grinned. “Try me, Duke Riorson.”

Xaden was silent for a beat too long.

You looked up at him slowly, brow raised. “What, are you picturing it now? A tiny little baby with a full head of dramatic, windswept black hair screaming its lungs out and breathing shadows?”

He blinked. “I was actually picturing Tairn’s reaction when he finds out. You know he’s going to think it’s a compliment.”

You snorted. “He would. That smug, oversized lizard.”

Xaden’s fingers drifted down to your stomach, his palm warm as it rested against the gentle curve there. His voice dropped lower, more thoughtful. “Still can’t believe there’s someone in there.”

Your smile softened despite yourself. “Someone who already has your stubborn streak, I’m sure.”

He chuckled. “And your ability to terrify an entire room with one look.”

You shrugged. “I learned from the best.”

A quiet settled between you—comfortable and full. Xaden kept his hand over your stomach like he could feel something already, even though you were only just starting to show. He didn’t say anything, just watched you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them during a debrief or a strategy meeting.

You nudged him lightly. “You okay over there? You’re looking at me like I’m going to break.”

He blinked, then shook his head. “I’m just thinking. This time last year, I didn’t know if I’d ever get to have something like this. With you.”

Your heart gave a painful, stupid little thump. You reached up to cradle his jaw, brushing your thumb just beneath the scar on his cheek.

“You came back to me,” you whispered. “That’s all that matters.”

“I’m never leaving again,” he said fiercely. “I don’t care what position I hold. I don’t care what anyone expects. You and this baby—you’re my only priority.”

You were about to say something sappy and heartfelt—and maybe tear up a little—when the baby onesie beside you caught your eye again.

You narrowed your eyes at it.

Xaden noticed. “...Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” you muttered, “I should probably start stretching.”

He groaned. “Gods help me.”

You grinned wickedly. “Oh, you’re not getting out of this. You’re the one who did this to me.”

Xaden raised a brow. “Pretty sure it was mutual.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t order a baby with a melon for a head.”

He laughed, and you buried your face in his chest again, trying to muffle your wheezing. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, strong and steady.

Yeah, you were going to be okay. Even if you were about to give birth to a tiny version of Xaden with a boulder for a skull.

You were so in love, it was actually disgusting.

A/N: I take requests but they probably wont be posted until the summer!

Comments, thoughts and reblogs would be really appreciated

Credit to @empyreanevents for the divider

This fic is for my beautiful wife @thelov3lybookworm

[love-belle]

it's golden like daylight !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which the whole internet thinks that they're over but it's just a new beginning for them.

or

for when you know it's forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - hello!! my first time writing for charles so i really hope u like it!! requests are open <3 thank you so much for reading, i love you <3

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, yourbestfriend and 782,517 others

yourusername loving him was red 🍒

5,829 comments

username hahahahaha "was" hahahaha

username IS THIS A CONFIRMATION WHAT???? HELLO????

username what if this was my last straw.

yourbestfriend red is your colour fr

*liked by yourusername*

username guys..........i hate to say it but i think it's true

-> username no.

-> username lol what??? nooooOoooOOO??? they're legally not allowed to break up

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by y/n444angels, f1aaliyah, wag_.updates and others

f1newz formula one driver, charles leclerc and singer/songwriter y/n y/l/n have called it quits on their relationship of 4 years, sources close to the pair claim. "it just wasn't working out," the source explained, referring to the long distance between them and their busy schedules. "it just felt like the relationship had run its course," they continued, "obviously, they still hold a lot of respect for each other and will continue to remain close friends, as there's no bad blood between them." for more details, click on the link in our bio.

1,827 comments

username what do u MEAN that the relationship just RAN its course?????

username no bc the idea that a relationship can just be over like that, just "run its course" and that you had a limited time with your person, your partner and now it's over. it's so heartbreaking. my heart is breaking for both of them, they were so in love with each other 💔💔💔

username source is like "just trust me on this" lmfaooooo

username no way im believing this shit after charles called her his "motivation and the reason he pushes himself to do much better because she deserves the best"

username her caption, their interaction the last few weeks, this 😬😬😬 it all seems to be adding up i fear

username LMFAOOO NICE JOKE 🤣🤣🤣🙏🙏🙏🤪🤪🤪 !!!!!!!!!!!

username "to my muse, i already had an idea of what love would be like but u taught me a whole new meaning of it, i love u forever and ever in each and every lifetime" and u say they broke up???? bro they're not universally allowed to.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by danielricciardo, yoursister, yourusername and 827,916 others

charles_leclerc stuck with me forever now 💌 cannot wait to slow dance around the kitchen at 3 in the morning for the rest of our lives. i didn't "fall" in love with you, i purposely, intentionally loved you and i always will, in this lifetime and all the others. any person would have been lucky to call you their love and i thank my skies and my constellations that i got to be that lucky person. here's to our forever ❤️ i love you

tagged yourusername

18,827 comments

username OH NY GOF

username SHUR THE FUCK UP WHAT OU M UHDO

username i just fell to my knees in walmart what.

yourusername forever never looked so good, i love you more than words could convey ❤️

-> charles_leclerc i love you mon ange ❤️

username hahahahahahaha!!!! ok!!!!!!!! nice!!!!!! happy for u!!!!!!!!!!!

username can't believe we really lost mother to a guy that drives around for a living

-> username i could be an uber driver just sayin 😮‍💨

danielricciardo the hardest secret to keep!! cannot wait to third wheel u for the rest of my life 🙏🙏🙏

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username I JUST SCREAMED SO LOUD OH MY GOD

lorenzotl the best sister in law ❤️

*liked by charles_leclerc*

lewishamilton congratulations ❤️❤️❤️ can finally post the pictures from that night ‼️

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username IM SO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 892,827 others

yourusername it's golden like daylight ❤️‍🩹

been waiting my entire life to use these lyrics, thank u charles for finally making it happen 🙏 also, i love you and i cannot wait for our future?????? kinda sad u beat me at proposing first but it's okay bc i love the ring (and you!!!!!!) thank u for making me the happiest person alive ❤️❤️❤️

tagged charles_leclerc

19,178 comments

username THE CONTRAST IN THEIR CAPTIONS

username poetic bf 🤝 funny gf

username i love them your honour

carlossainz55 it took him 27938291 hours to pick a damn ring so u better cherish that rock

-> yourusername it's tiffany how could i not??? (it's perfect thank u for helping him out ❤️‍🩹)

username SHE'S SO AJAJSJKAJSJSKA

charles_leclerc it was about time i put a ring on that 💍💍

-> yourusername REALLLLLL (i love you so much thank u thank u thank u i love you u make me feel like all the colours of a sunset, all the hues)

username they're so ☹️☹️☹️

arthur_leclerc can't believe you're gonna be my sister in law (i love u, thank u for making him and us the happiest by being in our lives)

-> yourusername better get used to it (i love you all so much, my forever family)

[twistedpink]

Rook Hunt x Shapeshifter!Reader

The hardest thing you’ve ever done in your long, long life is climb the corporate ladder. The idol one, to be precise. Humans just can’t be pleased! It’s proven! With all your visual tweaks, and genre changes, and half-assed performances (that was later - your first couple debuts were flawless), you’re done. Officially, depressingly, quitting. The only thing to do with all the names and character ideas in the back of your head is retire, and focus on the “natural” path. Eating the people you wanted to have love you. In a way, it’s not all that different..

You’ll almost miss the limelight- Certainly not the stalkers and spandex, but definitely the attention. The best place in the modern world to avoid your past identities, believe it or not, is the city! Morphing into someone approachable’s easy game- You smooth out your celebrity cheekbones, let the fat of your chest and thighs redistribute into an average body, and when you’re just about done changing the shape of your teeth, it’s time to meet up with your date!

Humans are easy, a breed of mundane that you’d never find among your own kind- So unguarded in this era of seeing thousands of faces, how are you supposed to pick out things to steal if you don’t have firsthand experience? A mole here, or a scar there, human features definitely outweigh their.. Unfortunate intelligence.

Your date is perfect, as they always are with you. A tall, sunkissed blonde with a strong nose and stronger accent. He’s nothing short of beautiful- So much so you’d offered dropping by your place for some drinks. You wouldn’t mind taking a peek at something a bit more,, personal. He’s gullible enough to agree without further debate. They all are.

You’ve observed him the entire conversation- How his hands are calloused from work in the field, or the way his eyes react dollishly with your every word, not a thought behind those livestock eyes. He looks clean but doesn’t smell it.. He either doesn’t shower enough, or he’s peaked your senses,, You’ve been known for standing to attention with pretty boys.. Your eyes dilate when he speaks. He runs at 62 bpm, his eyes have little specks of gold, and GOD he’s trying to hold your hand! HOLD! HIS! HAND! YOU WILL DIE IF YOU DONT HOLD HIS HAND!

You’re sitting in the same booth, hot coffee sits in front of the both of you- You’re far too distracted to take a drink. You want him, Worse than you’ve ever wanted anything. The bay window’s light bathes him, like an angel.. You’re determined to make him a star. Once you’ve taken his body, of course. He’ll be your pretty muse! Give you motivation for the stage again! Your Rook. It’s torture to not lean into him, you want a bite,, :(

His vacant hand on the table reaches for his mug, and you see it happen like a stone coming at a glass house. It’d be too suspicious to react. You have to let it burn you. With a tink against the table, boiling coffee spills over the edge and onto your empty hand- Mercifully avoiding your date. While he goes to fetch a tissue, (stretching deliciously across the table) the offending wound flashes bright blues and greens in an attempt to colour match.. You really, truly hope you don’t have to explain away anything he might’ve seen. You don’t have the energy for that right now - much less to wipe yourself clean, so you let him do it. You’ve always fancied having a human or two wait on you.

“Ah! Ma puce! A touch off topic, but have you ever followed the lives of celebrities? I’m quite the fanatic, myself.”

Not one to fumble a hunt, you acquiesce. He’s a skilled multi tasker- The best a human can be, at least,,

“I do! I’m a super-fan of a newly retired poster girl for this hyperpop group,, totally gonna’ miss her stuff. Why do you ask?”

“Funny, you really do remind me of her.. In your own way. A fun coincidence, no?”

You consider, briefly, brushing him off- Ditching the project and skipping town,, There’s no point staying if your disguise isn’t perfect. Then again, why are you running in the first place from prey? This is your first human with the intuition to recognize you, even if it’s passing, you need to see how this plays out. You can’t help wondering if you might enjoy being hunted for once, if he’s really so good. The only way of knowing is to jump headfirst!

“So, how’s your schedule next Friday?”

@bju3c0re

[arilevenatz]

You are

Pairing: pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 9.6k

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, abuse (not done by the boys) minor character death, jongho is a shy baby, lmk if I missed any!!

AN: I feel like screaming. This has been in my drafts for more than a year when the 'Everything' MV came out. The MV broke me and I was a crying mess. If y'all couldn't tell, my bias is jongho and I have seen that there are not that many good jongho fics in any platform. So I have taken the initiative. (Even tho idk if it's good or not) Anyway if y'all wanna be tagged just reply with your @ . AND please reblog and like it helps me a lot. I kinda fucked up the ending so y'all are free to imagine whatever the fuck y'all want

Nassau, an island which was claimed by the crew of Halazia. The ship was giant and very beautiful as well.

One slight issue,

It's a pirate ship

The pirates of the Halazia are the most feared of them all. They are known for not having any mercy towards any ship they come across.

Yes, even the ones with a white flag.

But Nassau is an island which is owned by them, so it is common for the people living near the harbor to see them come and go.

I, however lived further in the town, so I have never really seen them. Not that I want to as well. I'm scared they might kill me.

Though I doubt that will happen cause they have never really killed any innocent here in Nassau. Not that I've heard that is.

Waking was hard. Going to greet the family was harder. Answering their dumb questions was the hardest.

They say the youngest kid is always the most loved of them all. Not in our case.

We are big on family. And the worst part? We all live in the same plot, but in different houses. Me, being the youngest child in the house, I'm a personal punching bag.

Stuffs like "your brothers are doing so good, you need to follow them aswell" and "your brothers and sister have taken majors in science, you will too I hope" were normal to me.

Ever since I was young, my mom taught me.

If you wanna live in this house without getting called out every time, you have to fake a smile. Please everyone, child. Because of your father, you have to please everyone.

That was then, but now she has changed. She was forced to do so by these monsters in the name of people. I kinda miss her…

I heard my name being called. Looking at the source I saw my mom.

"I know you just woke up but, can you go to the port market and get us some things?"

"Mom, I just woke up..."

"Listen to your mom kid"

I looked at the source, great, my other aunt. Blinded by the pride of marrying a rich doctor, she thinks she is the head of the family, although she is the youngest sibling of my dad.

"yes yes, she will go, won't you kid?" her eyes pleaded to me, not wanting her child to be scolded in the morning.

"yes ma"

I took the money and left.

Being the youngest, I was always called "kid" or "child". It's weird I know, but i don't even care anymore.

The market's a bit far. I have to cross a little outskirt of a jungle. Though I don't have to cross the jungle, it's still a bit scary. But it's dawn, so it's alright right now.

After the jungle, a little walk by some alleyways and then it's the market!

The market was one of my favorite places to be in. Just look at it! It's so lively and colourful. It's so nice that it can make me forget about home for some time.

Ok let's check the list of items. Chili powder, parsley, biscuits and rum.

Hah! That stupid uncle of mine! How can he make a young girl like me buy alcohol early in the morning?!

I eventually got all the supplies and also got the rum. The shopkeeper was my dad's and uncles's friend so he gave me the rum I wanted, but I doubt he would've if he didn't know me. I mean come on, who gives alcohol to a young girl?!

"That will be ten bronze kid"

I handed him the money when suddenly I heard a high pitched laugh

"jongho, at least try to bargain once in your life! Do you or do you not want to save money??"

Looking in the direction, I saw two men. One has black hair, the other one has black and white hair.

What a strange hair colour...aren't his parents dissapointed?

Both of them are dressed in big tunics and black leather pants. The tunics loosely tucked in their pants.

"shopkeeper-nim, can we get this rum?"

The oreo guy handed the shopkeeper a note, seemingly a list.

"No mates, the last one was taken by this lady here"

He pointed at me. Damn dawg why you gotta throw me under the bus?

It was now when the two men looked at me.

"Aren't you too young to drink?"

"Land Ahoy!!!!"

The booming voice of the first mate who is also the quarter master, can be heard from below the deck. He had just spotted an island. Their island,

Nassau.

Beautiful island, with beautiful people and beautiful owners.

hehe

"Mingi, drop the anchor!"

"done!"

"captain, we need to scavenge", the quartermaster and first mate of Halazia, Seonghwa stated to their captain, the one and only, Hongjoong.

"I'm aware. Is the scavenger team ready?"

"I have already concerned Wooyoung, him and his team are ready to go"

"Good"

"Captain!"

The captain and quartermaster flinched by the voice of the surgeon.

"San! You unruly swine! What if the the captain got scared and let go of the helm?!", the quartermaster scolded the younger guy.

"Seonghwa do you mean that I get scared by small things?"

The two of the other males in the room nodded.

"all of you are scared cats"

"Bitch-"

All three males in the room flinch by the sudden intruder.

"Yunho, do you want me to order Yeosang to cut of your hair in your sleep?"

"Captain it was a joke!!"

"Anyways, captain, I came here to inform you that Mingi needs materials to fix the ship, however, he has work to do, so someone has to go on land with Wooyoung to get the supplies", San, the surgeon states.

The captain has now successfully ported the ship and now can let go of the helm. He turned to his crew and told them to follow him. And he went towards the maindeck.

"Send Jongho. He does not have any work for the time being"

"ok!"

San sprinted away almost in a comical way while muttering something which sounded suspiciously like a "smooth operator~"

The battlemaster was in the arms locker. The giant locker was home to weapons for the battlemaster as well as guns for the master gunner, Yunho.

The battlemaster, Jongho, was busy cleaning his swords. Call him a clean freak but he needs to clean all his swords and cutlasses. Not because he is a clean freak, it's cuz a certain someone will scold him if he does not.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"San are you a child?"

The first mate gets inside the locker and sits beside the younger male.

"I am not, but I know a certain someone is though"

"You swine"

The crew of the Halazia is known as the scariest crew outside, but inside the ship, they all are one braincell sharing idiots.

"Anyways, captain ordered you to do to port and get some stuff with wooyoung-ie" The younger boy looked at the first mate with his boba eyes. "what stuff?"

"mingi needs some stuff to repair the broken and probably for his new invention and shit"

"Ok then”

“meat, coriander, honey, alcohol and maybe some broccoli for the soups"

"Wooyoung, why do you need alcohol? Are you gonna drink again?"

The cook of Halazia, wooyoung and the young battlemaster, jongho are set out for an adventure, an adventure to find the specific kind of alcohol for the surgeon of the ship, San.

"What? No! I am getting it because Sanie asked me to!

This morning, San had barged in the kitchen and asked wooyoung to get a special kind of rum, which helps to clean cuts.

Yeah the young boys have no idea how to find it…

"aren't you too young to drink?" jongho asked the girl they just came across in the shop.

The girl didn't say anything and just stayed silent.

"jongho-ya you scared the poor girl"

"No I did no-"

"you can have it"

Both the males looked at the young girl. She has her hand out and in her hand resides the rum bottle.

"You can have it"

"No no we ca-" jongho was cut of by wooyoung. "sure we'll take it! How much was it again?"

"ten bronze"

Wooyoung handed the girl ten bronze and was about to take off, but jongho held him back feeling guilty. I mean come on, the girl probably had her own hardships buying it, and then she got harassed by his hyung.

The younger guy went and handed 5 more bronze. The girl merely looked at his hand confused.

"sorry, he is just immature"

The girl however still remained silent and immobile.

Jongho waited a few seconds and then took the girl's hand and placed the coins there.

"thank you and...Sorry"

The girl looked at the coins and then looked at him. And then she said "I don't need these extra coins, but in return, you both have to go and buy the alcohol for me”

They do it for the girl. The two men are now inside another store, away from the previous. This store is the only other store which sells alcohol here in the port market. But the owner of this shop doesn't know your dad or uncle, so he will not give alcohol to her as she's a girl. So she cleverly asked the two men to go inside and buy it for her.

Wooyoung hands you the additional bottle of rum with a dramatic flourish, a smirk on his face. "Here you go, little one. Consider this our way of helping you out." He smiles at me, while Jongho looks on, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

You look at him giving you two bottles when you asked for one. “I only needed one tho.....”

"We added one more. Consider it a gift from us. Just... don't tell anyone we did this, alright? We'd be in real trouble if anyone knew” Wooyoung said as he put the bottles in your bag properly. You nod at him slightly.

Wooyoung smiles slightly at your nod "Smart girl. And hey... what's your name? I'm wooyoung, that's jongho. Seems like Nassau's been tough on you, hasn't it? If you ever need anything else-"

jongho slightly nudges him to stop and get back to work. He gently pushes Wooyoung aside before he can offer any more unsolicited kindness to the girl. The last thing they need right now is rumors spreading about us befriending locals.

Jongho shoots Wooyoung a warning look before turning his attention back to you "Remember what we said - keep quiet about this. And stay out of trouble, yeah? Nassau's not safe for little ones like you-" he catches himself realizing how condescending that sounded "-Like-”

“Little ones?” You were offended. You hated when someone called you little. It triggered you so much. You family calling you ‘kid’, ‘child’ was enough, you don't need these two weirdos calling you little.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly "You know what I mean. Young. Innocent. Uninvolved in pirate life. Just... be careful, alright? We don't want anything happening to anyone”

You wanted to ask why they were so interested in pirate life but they were already turning back.

As Wooyoung and him walk away, jongho can't shake the feeling that he has made things awkward between them and the girl. He glances back over his shoulder, noticing her standing there, holding the extra bottle of rum like a precious treasure. "Woo, did you see that?”

Wooyoung follows his gaze, a thoughtful expression on his face "Aye, I did. She's a tough one, ain't she? For a little thing, she's got guts." He pauses, then adds in a lower tone

"And she's got a way of getting under your skin, too. Mark my words, Jongho - that girl's going to cause us trouble one day." He chuckles to himself, but there's a hint of seriousness beneath his words.

"Let's just hope it's the good kind of trouble.”

Back in the ship, the surgeon, San runs up to them, asking them what took them so long. Woo replied "we had to fight a little girl for the last bottle of rum”. San raises a concerned eyebrow.

“In what world do ‘little girl' and ‘rum’ co-operate in one sentence? That sounds highly inappropriate”

Jongho sighs and shakes his head disapprovingly at Wooyoung's exaggeration. "Don't go spreading tales now. We weren't fighting anyone." He glances at San with weary eyes. "Just... ran into a stubborn lady on an errand.”

San raises an eyebrow skeptically, but his lips twitch in amusement. "'Stubborn lady,' huh? Sounds like someone's been distracted by pretty eyes and a cute face." He teasingly pokes Jongho in the ribs.

Wooyoung covered his mouth with his hands dramatically and replied "no wonder he was not cold but gentle towards the girl. I knew you had it in you!”

Jongho rolls his eyes, trying to maintain his composure despite San's teasing. "Shut it, San. It's not like that. We just didn't want any trouble, that's all." He shoots Wooyoung a warning look, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.

But it was true, he felt that those eyes held sadness. He has seen war, he has been in dilemmas and has fought with his inner urges. He knows what loneliness looks like. and he saw that in those girl's dull eyes. He stands on the deck watching the sunset paint the sky in fiery hues, but he can't help but replay the encounter with the girl in his mind. The ache in her eyes, the defiance in her stance - it echoes the battles he's fought within himself.

He remembers the way the girl stood her ground, refusing to back down even when faced with two grown pirates.

As the captain, Hongjoong managed more than just his crew; he also oversaw a network of loan sharks. These were the people he trusted with his money, providing them the means to distribute loans in exchange for a share of the profits. Now, it was time to settle. A meeting with the loan sharks of Nassau was pending, and Hongjoong intended to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Rather than meeting on neutral ground, Hongjoong and Seonghwa decided to summon the loan sharks to their ship. It was a calculated move, one that ensured the meeting would take place on their terms and under their control. (Hot men)

The captain’s quarters were cold and dark, the flickering lantern casting shadows across Hongjoong’s features. Seonghwa stood by the door, arms crossed and expression hard, his presence as commanding as the captain’s. The loan sharks shifted uneasily before them, knowing this was not a meeting to be taken lightly.

The lead shark hesitated before speaking, his voice shaking slightly. “Captain, there’s been… a complication.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, his eyes cold “A complication?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Explain.”

“A man we loaned money to—he fled,” the shark stammered. “Disappeared without paying a single coin. He left behind his wife and daughter in Nassau.”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. “And you let him run?”

“We didn’t know he would,” the shark blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. “He seemed reliable, Captain. A merchant with steady work. But one day, he was gone, just like that.”

“And the family?” Seonghwa cut in, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

“They’re still in Nassau,” the shark admitted. “The wife claims she doesn’t know where he went, and they’ve got nothing left. No way to repay the debt.”

Hongjoong’s gaze darkened. “You mean to tell me you came here with excuses, no money, and no solutions?”

The shark shrank back, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Captain, we—we thought we could pressure the wife. Maybe—” He hesitated, but Hongjoong’s glare pushed him to continue. “Maybe take their belongings or… use them to draw him out.”

The room fell silent. Seonghwa stepped forward, his voice like steel. “Use them?” he echoed, his lips curling into a cold smirk knowing what his captain will suggest next, “You’re suggesting we drag a woman and her child into this mess because you couldn’t do your job?”

The shark flinched, his voice barely a whisper. “It was just an idea.”

Hongjoong stood, the sudden movement making the shark jump. He leaned across the table, his voice venomous. “Ideas like that will get you killed. You don’t lay a hand on them unless I give the order. Do you understand me?”

The shark nodded frantically, his face pale. “Y-Yes, Captain.”

“But you will go back,” Hongjoong continued, his tone playful but colder now. “You will visit the wife, and you will remind her that the debt doesn’t disappear just because her husband ran. Make sure she understands this is her last chance to cooperate. If she knows where he is, she had better start talking.”

“And if she doesn’t?” the shark asked hesitantly.

Seonghwa’s smirk widened, but his eyes remained icy. “Then you make it clear what happens when people cross Captain Hongjoong. Let her know the weight of the debt will fall heavier if her husband doesn’t show his face soon.”

Hongjoong straightened, his eyes burning into the shark’s. “You don’t come back empty-handed again. Bring me the man, or bring me something of equal value. Do I make myself clear?”

The sharks nodded in unison, fear etched into their faces.

“Good,” Hongjoong said curtly. “Now get out of my sight.”

As the door slammed shut behind them, Seonghwa glanced at the captain. “You think the wife knows something?"

“If she does, fear will make her speak,” Hongjoong replied coldly. “And if she doesn’t, it’ll push the coward into the open. Either way, we get what we’re owed.”

He thinks for a second and then says “ you know what, I don't trust these parasites. Send a mule after them, give me every detail of what they do from now on”

The shark’s anger simmered as he stormed through the winding streets of Nassau. Hongjoong’s threats still echoed in his ears, and his humiliation burned deep. To him, the blame lay squarely with the woman and her child.

“They’ve made fools of us,” growled the shark, his fists clenched. “It’s her fault the captain’s breathing down our necks. If we can’t touch them, we’ll make sure she understands what it means to cross us.”

When he reached the small house with two of his acquaintances, they found it quiet and dimly lit. The lead shark pounded on the door with enough force to make the frame rattle. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing the wife. Her face paled when she saw the sharks, but she held her ground.

“What do you want now?” she asked, her voice strong but trembling.

The lead shark sneered, pushing the door open wider. “Your lies have caused us enough trouble. We’re done playing games.”

She took a step back, clutching the edge of the door. “I’ve told you everything I know. My husband is gone. I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

Another shark, a burly man with a cruel glint in his eye, stepped forward. “Your daughter—where is she?”

“She’s not here,” the wife said quickly, fear flashing across her face. “She’s out.”

The lead shark smirked, leaning closer. “Good. That makes this easier.”

Before the wife could react, the sharks forced their way inside. She stumbled back, panic flooding her as they loomed over her.

“You’re coming with us,” the lead shark said coldly.

“You can’t do this,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “We’re not hurting you,” the burly shark replied with a twisted grin. “We’re just taking you somewhere else to have a little… conversation.”

Despite her protests, they grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the house, their grip firm but not brutal. She screamed and struggled, but no one was there as they hauled her through the streets and into the shadows of Nassau.

____

You push open the door to your house, expecting the usual comfort of your mother's voice or the warmth of a home filled with the scent of a meal being prepared. But instead, there was silence.

“Mom?” you call out, your voice echoing slightly. You set down the basket of bread and vegetables, but there’s no answer. The quiet stretches on, oppressive, like something’s wrong.

You move through the house, checking the rooms one by one, but it’s empty. There’s no sign of her. Panic starts to creep into your chest, tightening with each passing moment.

As you were looking, you felt someone cover your mouth in a vise-like grip as you trie to claw at him. His thick mustache curls upwards in a cruel sneer. "And what do we have here? The little birdie come back to her nest?”

You try hard to free yourself.

“You think you can run from us?” he sneered, shoving you forward with enough force to stumble you. “You and your mother have been causing enough trouble, little girl. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure you both learn your place soon enough.”

You kick his knees and manage to break free. Just as you reach for the door handle, a large hand cracks across your face, sending you stumbling down. Pain explodes across your cheek and you fall to the floor, dazed and crying. The man looms over you, his fist raised for another blow. "You little brat!”

"Stop!" The lead shark's voice barks out sharply, staying in the second man's hand mid-air. Through your terrified tears, you see him approaching you, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor.

“We don’t need more bruises on this pretty little face yet,” he says, his voice almost… amused. His hand lifts, but instead of striking, he just touches the side of your face, his fingers cold and rough against your skin.

You wince, instinctively trying to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place. “Listen closely, little bird,” he continues, his voice dark and low. “We need you to understand something. Your father’s debt? It’s a problem. And we’re not leaving here until we get our money back.”

Your stomach churns at the mention of your father. You try to keep your voice steady, but it cracks. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Yeah, we know,” he replies with a dry laugh, his grip loosening just a little. “Your father’s a coward. He runs and leaves you two behind to clean up his mess.” He leans down, his face just inches from yours. “But that doesn’t matter. Captain Hongjoong’s been clear. We take what’s ours. And you?” His smirk widens. “You’re gonna help us make that happen.”

His words make your blood run cold. Hongjoong. You’d heard of him—his name was spoken with fear and respect, but never this way. They’re using your family as leverage, a pawn in their game, all because of your father’s debt.

“They need you to make sure your father gets the message,” the lead shark continues, standing back up, pacing slowly around you like a predator. “We can’t hurt you… yet. But we’re going to make sure you’re a reminder. Captain Hongjoong is waiting for results. And if that means bringing you along to make your father see reason, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Hongjoong sat in his quarters, staring at the report he had just received from the mule. His eyes narrowed as the words settled in. The sharks had gone against his direct orders, overstepping their boundaries, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The anger bubbled inside him, a sharp, cold rage that left no room for hesitation.

He stood up, the weight of his frustration pressing on him. He couldn’t allow anyone to defy him, especially not when it came to matters as serious as this. The sharks had been sent to handle the situation, to get back the money they were owed—but they’d taken it too far. Taking the girl and her mother? That wasn’t part of the deal.

Seonghwa, who had been standing nearby, watching his captain closely, didn’t need to ask what was wrong. He’d seen this side of Hongjoong before—when his calm, controlled demeanor slipped, and the storm beneath came to the surface.

“Prepare Jongho and Yunho,” Hongjoong said, his voice low but filled with authority. “I want them to investigate. I want to know exactly what those sharks did, and I want them to fix this. I’ll have no one undermining my orders.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to leave, but Hongjoong stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Make sure it’s handled quietly,” Hongjoong added, his gaze steely. “We don’t need any more attention than we already have. And if they’ve done something unforgivable… make sure they know who’s in charge.”

Jongho, the Battle Master, was known for his strength and discipline. He’d follow orders without hesitation, but it was his ability to keep a level head in intense situations that Hongjoong trusted most. Yunho, the Master Gunner, had a sharp eye for details and a quick wit. Together with a few loyal crew members, they’d get to the bottom of this—and if the sharks had crossed a line, they’d deal with it swiftly.

Jongho and Yunho stood by the edge of the ship, the salty breeze tugging at their hair as they discussed their next move.

Yunho crossed his arms, leaning against the railing. “So, we’re going to investigate what those sharks did… and if they’ve really messed up, we’re supposed to clean up their mess?” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jongho, standing beside him, shook his head with a chuckle. “Seems like it. I don’t think Captain Hongjoong’s happy that they went rogue. Taking the girl and her mother? That’s a whole new level of stupid.” He sighed, glancing out at the horizon.

“I mean, we’re talking about a bunch of thugs who can’t follow orders. What’s next? Are they going to steal the moon?”

Yunho snorted. “If they tried, I’d pay good money to see it. But seriously, jongho, this is a mess. We’ve got to figure out how to handle this without making it worse. The last thing we need is a full-blown war with the sharks because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Jongho chuckled darkly. “Yeah, because Hongjoong’s ‘fixing problems quietly’ approach works out so well, right?” He paused. “Let’s just hope these sharks haven’t completely pissed him off. I don’t think even we could smooth things over if he’s really that angry.”

He then grinned. “I’ll make sure to bring some extra bandages, just in case.”

Yunho shot him a sideways glance. “What, you think we’re going to knock some sense into them with our fists?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jongho replied, giving him a smile. “Though, I prefer it when the problem just gets solved with a good ol' conversation. You know, like ‘Hey, don’t take the girl, or I’ll break your legs.’”

Yunho let out a dry laugh. “Sounds like a great ‘conversation’ to me.”

He then smirked at jongho and said, “But you know, I’m always ready to put some holes in bastards. Let’s get to work.” (See what I did there? ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠° )

The air was thick with tension as Jongho and Yunho made their way to the den. They had gathered all the intel they needed and were now ready to end this. The sharp tang of saltwater in the air mixed with the musty, oppressive smell of the building, and Jongho’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.

“You ready?” Yunho asked, his voice low, scanning the area.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Jongho replied, his tone steadier than he felt. They moved quickly, slipping through the shadows toward the back entrance of the den. The door creaked open under Jongho’s steady push, and they silently entered.

Jongho and Yunho moved like shadows, circling around the room, eyes scanning for the girl. The moment their eyes met, Jongho felt his heart stop. There she was—tied to a chair, her head lowered. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were bound tight, but she was alive. She looked up at him, her eyes widening.

Jongho felt his chest tighten. He was shocked. Not because this was her. The same girl he had seen in the market, and now here she was, in the middle of this chaos, helpless. But because he still remembered her vividly. He has never remembered anyone's face other than ill intent. This made his heart do something he didn't like.

He was about to rush forward when Yunho grabbed his arm. “Stay focused,” Yunho muttered, his eyes scanning the sharks. “We’ll get her, but we need to take them down first.”

Jongho nodded, his heart racing. He knew Yunho was right—they couldn’t let their guard down. The sharks were too dangerous, and they had to be neutralized quickly.

In one fluid motion, Yunho drew his gun and fired, sending one of the sharks crashing to the ground. The noise startled the rest of the men, and chaos erupted. Jongho lunged forward, his sword cutting through the air with precision. Each swing was met with resistance, but he wasn’t slowing down.

The fight was quick but brutal, the room filled with the sounds of swords clashing and bodies hitting the ground. Jongho’s eyes searched the girl, and as soon as the last shark was down, he rushed to her side.

“Hold on,” he said, his voice softer now, as he cut through her ropes. She winced slightly as he freed her wrists, but she didn’t say a word—her eyes were locked on him, full of both fear and relief.

“You’re safe now,” Jongho said, his heart pounding as he helped her to her feet. But as he looked down at her, his heart skipped a beat. Her face was streaked with dried tears and blood, she had a busted lip and a bloodied injury on the side of her head. He realized then that this wasn’t just about the mission anymore. There was something about her that tugged at him, something deeper than just a rescue.

She looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. “Who are you?”

Jongho smiled softly, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions flooding through him. “Jongho. Battle Master on Captain Hongjoong’s ship.”

Her eyes flickered with recognition. “You… you were at the market.” She hesitated, her voice uncertain. “You… you’re a pirate? Of the Halazia”

Jongho nodded, his heart tightening. “We’re here to get you out of this mess. But right now, we need to move fast.”

She looked around, “But my mom-”

“Yunho will take care of that”

Before she could respond, they heard footsteps approaching. Yunho’s voice was low and urgent. “Jongho, we’ve got to go, now!”

Jongho took her hand gently, pulling her toward the door. As they ran, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his heart had just made a decision he wasn’t sure he was ready for. He had come here to do a job, to rescue her and get out. But somewhere in that chaotic moment, he realized he wanted to protect her.

The door slammed open, and they ran out into the night. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit echoed, but Jongho didn’t care. He would protect her. No matter what it took.

You settled back into the familiarity of home, the creaking of the old wooden floors and the comforting hum of the market outside grounding you after the chaos of recent events. Life was quiet again, though a bit lonelier now. Your mother busied herself with building a shop, leaving you to wander between chores and stolen moments of peace.

Life aboard the ship was as chaotic as ever, but lately, the crew had found a new source of amusement—or annoyance, depending on who you asked.

“Jongho, will you sit down already?” Seonghwa groaned, throwing an exasperated glance at the younger man pacing the deck.

Jongho ignored him, his brow furrowed in thought as he muttered to himself. “I haven’t checked in on her in over a week. What if something’s happened? What if someone’s bothering her again?”

“Again with the girl,” Yunho drawled, leaning lazily against a barrel. “You’ve mentioned her three times today already. You’re worse than Hongjoong’s parrot.”

“Worse than his parrot?” Yeosang, the navigator, asked as he descended from the helm, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Now that’s saying something. I didn’t think anyone could top its constant squawking.”

“Maybe the parrot’s jealous,” Mingi, the boatswain, chimed in as he carried a coil of rope over his shoulder. He dropped it near the mast and turned to Jongho, his grin matching Yeosang’s. “Sounds like it’s got competition for Jongho’s attention.”

Hongjoong, seated at a small table nearby, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He sipped his drink with a smirk, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Jongho being the center of everyone’s teasing. "I didn't even take my money from her for you"

"captain aren't you like one of the richest people in the 7 seas?" Someone grumbled.

“It’s not like that,” Jongho said firmly, shooting Yunho a glare before turning to Yeosang and Mingi. “She’s been through enough already. Someone has to make sure she’s alright.”

“Someone?” San chimed in, his grin wide. “Or you?”

“Let’s be real,” Wooyoung added with a dramatic sigh. “You don’t just want to make sure she’s safe. You’re attached. Admit it.”

“Sounds like attachment to me,” Yeosang agreed, leaning against the railing with an amused expression. “You’re practically obsessing.”

“I wouldn’t call it obsession,” Mingi said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “It’s more like…” He paused for dramatic effect, his grin widening.

“Infatuation.”

Jongho stopped pacing long enough to shoot them all a sharp look. “I’m doing my job. Protecting her is my responsibility.”

“Protecting her,” Seonghwa said, drawing out the words mockingly. “Or is it something more?”

“I don’t love her,” Jongho snapped, his tone final.

The crew burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the deck. Even Hongjoong let out a low chuckle, finally setting his drink down.

“If you don’t love her,” the captain said, leaning back in his chair, “then stop pacing around like a lovesick puppy. You’re throwing off the entire crew."

“Yeah,” Yunho added with a grin. “Even the parrot’s giving you side-eye at this point.”

Jongho opened his mouth to retort but found no words that would convince them otherwise. Instead, he huffed and crossed his arms, retreating to his post with an annoyed scowl.

Yeosang exchanged a glance with Mingi before smirking. “He’ll realize it eventually,” he said quietly.

“Or we’ll keep reminding him until he does,” Mingi replied with a chuckle.

As the laughter died down and the crew returned to their tasks. Jongho didn’t love her, he told himself. He was just… concerned. That was all. Yes, that's it.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen Jongho. You told yourself you shouldn’t expect him, that he had his own life aboard the ship, filled with duties and battles you couldn’t begin to imagine.

But some small, stubborn part of you always found your eyes drifting to the road outside, hoping to catch sight of him.

And then, one evening, as the sky blushed with the soft hues of sunset, you heard it—the measured, confident sound of boots against gravel. Your heart leapt before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped your hands on your apron, glancing toward the door just as his familiar silhouette appeared.

“Jongho,” you said, trying to sound calm though you could feel your pulse racing.

He nodded, stepping into the doorway. His eyes swept the room, taking in the tidy shelves and the faint scent of freshly baked bread. “Everything alright?” he asked, his tone steady, the same question he always asked.

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “It is now. Come in.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing the invitation, but eventually stepped inside, his presence filling the small space effortlessly.

You poured him tea, the silence between you familiar and strangely comforting. He didn’t say much—he rarely did—but his quiet presence was enough. You found yourself telling him about the shop, how business had picked up again, and how you’d repaired the shutters just last week. He listened intently, his gaze steady, his attention making you feel like your words mattered.

When he finally rose to leave, you felt a pang of disappointment, though you didn’t say anything. He paused at the door, glancing back at you.

“I’ll check in again,” he said simply.

You nodded, your smile soft but genuine. “I’ll be here.”

And then he was gone, the sound of his boots fading into the evening air. You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty doorway, your heart inexplicably lighter.

You didn’t know why he kept coming back, and maybe he didn’t either. But you found yourself looking forward to his visits, to the way he made you feel seen and safe in a way no one else ever had. For now, that was enough.

The air outside buzzed with excitement, the faint sound of music and chatter from the central town festival reaching your small home. You stood at the window, peeking out at the vibrant colors of the decorations that dotted the streets beyond your view.

The door creaked open, and you turned to see Jongho stepping inside. His usual calm demeanor was in place, though his eyes flicked over you briefly, taking in the faint spark of longing in your expression.

“There’s a festival in town,” he said, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, brushing your hands on your skirt. “I know. I’ve always wanted to go, but…”

Your voice trailed off, and you glanced toward your mother, who stood nearby, watching the two of you.

Jongho followed your gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. “Why not?”

Your mother sighed, folding her arms. “She’s young, and festivals can be crowded, chaotic… dangerous. I can’t let her go alone.”

“I’ll take her,” Jongho said simply, as though the decision had already been made.

“You'd do that? Take me there?”

“Why not?”

Both you and your mother looked at him, surprised. He met your mother’s gaze evenly, his tone firm. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

Your mother hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. Finally, she nodded, though she still seemed unsure. “Alright. But don’t let her out of your sight.”

A rush of excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside you as you grabbed your shawl. “Thank you, Jongho,” you said softly, your smile warm and genuine.

---

The town was alive with color and energy. Lanterns hung from every building, their soft glow casting a warm light over the cobblestone streets. Stalls lined the roads, selling everything from sweets to trinkets, and performers entertained small crowds with music and dancing.

Jongho stayed close to you, his presence a steady anchor in the lively chaos. His hand hovered near your back, guiding you through the crowd without a word.

“Where should we go first?” you asked, looking up at him.

He glanced around, his eyes scanning the stalls and performers. “Wherever you want.”

“I don't know, you choose”

“We can do whatever you want”

You look down a bit and think. You'd never been given choices. They were always made for you. You always felt pressure whenever someone said to choose something and at the end you just keep saying ‘whatever you want’.

You grinned, feeling a rare sense of freedom. Tugging gently on his sleeve, you led him to a stall selling candied apples. He didn’t protest when you bought one for yourself and insisted he try one too, but he informed you that he can't have sweet things.

You went around stall from stall, that's when you spotted a beautiful earring in one of the stalls. It was completely your style and pretty. You kept looking at it, that's when jongho noticed you looking somewhere.

“Where are you looking at?”

You look back at him and smile, “nothing.” Maybe I can ask mom to buy these next year, if we can come.

As the night went on, you wandered from one attraction to another. You laughed at a juggler’s clumsy tricks, marveled at the intricate designs of hand-painted fans, and even managed to coax Jongho into trying his hand at a ring toss game.

He didn’t win, but the sight of him concentrating so intently on the simple game made you laugh until your sides hurt.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smile.

“Maybe,” you teased, feeling more at ease with him than ever before.

When the night sky filled with stars, the two of you found a quieter spot on the edge of the festival grounds. You sat on a low stone wall, watching the festival bustling with people even though it was pretty late at night.

“Thank you,” you said after a while, your voice soft.

Jongho turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “For what?”

“For taking me here,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Looking out for me. You didn’t have to, but… it means a lot.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying you. Then he nodded, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s no trouble.”

Back at the ship, Jongho returned to the bustling crew. The festival had left him with a strange feeling, one he couldn’t quite place.

“You’re back,” Yunho said, leaning against the mast with a grin. “How was your little outing?”

“It was fine,” Jongho replied curtly, brushing past him.

“Fine?” Wooyoung piped up, sidling up with a mischievous glint in his eye. “That’s all we get? Come on, did she hold your hand? Laugh at your jokes? Look at you like you’re her hero?”

“Wooyoung,” Jongho warned, his tone low.

But the teasing only grew as San joined in. “Admit it, you enjoyed yourself.”

Jongho shot them a glare that silenced most of their laughter, though their knowing looks didn’t fade.

He didn’t understand the pull he felt toward you, but one thing was clear: he would keep protecting you, no matter what. Anything beyond that… he wasn’t ready to think about it

The next time Jongho visited your home, it was early evening. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden light over the small house. You were outside, tending to the small garden by the porch, when you noticed him approaching.

“Jongho,” you greeted, brushing dirt off your hands as you stood. His posture was straighter, and his hands were tucked behind his back.

“Hello,” he said, his voice calm as always, though his eyes briefly flickered down to the dirt smudged on your cheek.

“What brings you here?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as though ensuring no one was watching. Then, clearing his throat, he brought his hand forward to reveal a small cloth-wrapped bundle.

You blinked at it, unsure of what it could be. “What’s this?”

“Just take it,” he said, his tone gruff, though he avoided your gaze as he extended the bundle toward you.

With a curious smile, you untied the cloth, your breath catching as the fabric fell away to reveal a pair of delicate earrings. They were simple yet elegant, their small gemstone pendants glinting in the light.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized them. “These… these were at the festival,” you murmured, tracing a finger over the smooth surface of one gem. “I saw them, but—”.

“You were staring at them right? That day?,” Jongho interrupted, his voice firm but quieter now. “Figured you might like them.”

Clutching the earrings tightly in your hand. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he replied simply, meeting your gaze for a moment before looking away, almost as if he were embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insisted, a soft laugh escaping you. “This is… this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”

Jongho shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just thought you’d like them.”

Your fingers gently traced over the smooth gemstones on the earrings, the delicate sparkle catching the fading sunlight. “But…” you hesitated, looking up at Jongho, who stood there with his usual calm demeanor. “Aren’t these expensive?”

He tilted his head slightly, an almost amused glint in his eyes. “I’m rich,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.

You blinked at him, surprised by his bluntness. “You’re what?”

“Rich,” he repeated, his tone steady, though there was the faintest hint of humor tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that surprise you? I'm part of the richest pirates in the seven seas. Do you not know?”

“I mean… you’re on a ship all the time,” you said, flustered. “You don’t exactly seem—”

“Seem what?” he cut in, raising an eyebrow.

“Like someone who’d buy earrings for a girl,” you finished, your cheeks warming.

Jongho crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t buy them for just anyone. I bought them for you. That’s different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you clutched the earrings tighter, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“I told you, it’s no big deal,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “You liked them, so I got them. Don’t think too much about it.”

You smiled despite yourself, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite name. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice quieter this time.

He nodded, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. “You’re welcome.”

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but call after him, “So, how rich are we talking?”

Jongho paused, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk that was so subtle you almost missed it. “Rich enough to buy the earrings and not think twice about it.”

You laughed softly as he walked away, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Unknown to you, the poor boy had gone through the torment of his 7 brothers, who won't leave him alone. They teased him so much about the earrings that he almost almost threw one of them overboard.

The crew was always quick to notice anything out of the ordinary, and had clearly picked up on Jongho’s latest visit to your home.

“So,” Yunho started, leaning casually against a barrel as Jongho walked across the deck, “we heard about the earrings.”

Jongho paused, his jaw tightening slightly. “What about them?”

“Oh, nothing,” Wooyoung piped up, barely containing his grin. “Just that our stoic Jongho has a soft spot for a certain someone.”

San joined in, throwing an arm dramatically around Jongho’s shoulder. “You know, if you’re going to buy her gifts, why not go all out? Maybe a necklace next time? Or a whole jewelry set?”

Jongho shrugged off San’s arm, his expression unimpressed. “It was just a pair of earrings. Don’t make it a big deal.”

“A pair of earrings,” Seonghwa repeated, feigning shock. “Do you know how much effort that is? Choosing the right ones, paying for them…”

Yeosang, who rarely joined in on the teasing, leaned against the railing with a faint smirk. “I’m just curious how long it took you to pick them out. Did you stare at the stall for an hour?”

“He probably scared the vendor,” Mingi added, his laughter booming across the deck. “Standing there, glaring at the earrings until they wrapped them up for him.”

Even Hongjoong, who had been silently observing from his chair, chimed in with a sly smile. “So, Jongho, how does it feel to be the romantic of the group? Should we start calling you the ship’s Cupid?”

Jongho’s patience was clearly thinning, but his expression remained steady. “I’m not romantic. I just thought she’d like them. That’s it.”

Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically, staggering back. “He thought she’d like them! Oh, it’s worse than we thought—he’s thinking about her!”

“That’s enough,” Jongho said firmly, though the slight pink tinge to his ears betrayed his frustration.

Yunho, ever the instigator, leaned closer with a mischievous grin. “You know, Jongho, if you keep this up, we might need to start a fund for all the gifts you’ll be buying her.”

Jongho shot him a sharp look. “You’re all lucky I don’t throw you overboard.”

The crew erupted into laughter, thoroughly enjoying themselves at Jongho’s expense. Despite his annoyance, Jongho couldn’t fully suppress a faint smile as he turned and walked away.

As the teasing continued behind him, one thought lingered in his mind: he didn’t regret buying the earrings, no matter how much they made fun of him. If it made you smile, it was worth every ounce of ridicule.

The laughter and teasing aboard the ship gradually subsided as the crew prepared for their next voyage. Supplies were loaded, sails checked, and the familiar hum of activity filled the air. But this time, there was an unspoken heaviness among them. They were leaving the port—and there was no telling when they’d return.

Jongho stood near the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the town lay, now bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Yunho said, walking up beside him and leaning against the railing.

Jongho didn’t respond immediately. His grip on the wood tightened slightly, his eyes scanning the distant rooftops as though he could catch a glimpse of you from here. “I know,” he said finally, though his tone lacked conviction.

Yunho chuckled softly. “You’re terrible at lying, Jongho. Especially to yourself.”

“Leave him be,” Seonghwa said, passing by with a small smirk. “He’s just sulking because he can’t buy her more earrings from the next town.”

“Maybe we should’ve taken her with us,” Wooyoung suggested with a mischievous grin, appearing on Jongho’s other side. “At least then, Jongho wouldn’t be moping around like a kicked puppy.”

Jongho shot him a warning look. “She’s safer at home.”

“True,” Mingi chimed in as he approached, slapping Jongho on the back. “But are you safer without her?”

The others burst into laughter, their voices carrying across the deck, but Jongho remained silent. His thoughts were already elsewhere—back at the small house where he’d left you.

Now, as the ship’s anchor was lifted and the sails unfurled, Jongho couldn’t help but glance back one last time. The town grew smaller in the distance, and with it, the little piece of peace he’d found there.

Everything had to come to an end, he reminded himself, but this end felt heavier than he’d expected. Even as the ship carried him further from the port, his thoughts lingered on you—on your quiet strength, your laughter, and the way your smile had made the world seem just a little brighter.

For now, all he could do was focus on the journey ahead and trust that fate would bring him back to you someday.

Their journey had been long and unpredictable, filled with danger, discovery, and the relentless pursuit of fortune. From navigating treacherous waters to encountering rival ships, every day aboard the ship demanded resilience and wit.

They'd charted unknown territories, bartered with distant towns, and clashed with pirates in battles that tested their mettle. The crew thrived on the adrenaline of their adventures, though the weight of uncertainty often hung over them.

For Jongho, the journey was a blur of responsibility and restlessness, his thoughts occasionally drifting to the little house by the port. Each victory and challenge brought them closer to returning, though they never knew when that day would come.

Now, after years away, the ship had finally docked, and their travels were behind them—for now.

The town felt both familiar and distant as Jongho and the crew disembarked after years at sea. Jongho’s eyes instinctively searched the streets, scanning for any sign of you. The house came into view quickly, and his steps faltered. It looked well-kept, the garden vibrant and alive, and the faint scent of baked goods wafted from an open window.

As he approached the door, he noticed a subtle change—a sign hung near the entrance: “Homemade Goods & Repairs.” His brow furrowed, curiosity rising.

He knocked lightly, and a familiar voice called out, “One moment!”

When you opened the door, your expression lit up instantly. “Jongho!”

You were different, older somehow, with a confidence in the way you stood. Your hands were dusted with flour, and there was a smudge of it on your cheek. But your smile was as bright as ever, and seeing it eased something in Jongho’s chest.

“You’re back,” you said warmly, stepping aside to let him in. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”

“I didn’t expect to see this,” Jongho replied, motioning toward the bustling shop area. Shelves lined with jars of jams and pastries occupied one side, while the other side displayed tools and items neatly organized for repairs.

You chuckled, wiping your hands on your apron. “After my mom passed, I needed something to keep me busy. The shop helps, and it keeps me connected to the town. I do alright.”

Jongho nodded, glancing around. The place had a sense of order and life he hadn’t expected. “You’re running this by yourself?”

“For now,” you replied, smiling proudly. “The town’s been good to me. They keep me busy enough, and I like it that way.”

Jongho’s gaze lingered on you, and he couldn’t help but notice the resilience in your tone. You weren’t the fragile girl he’d left behind. You’d grown, thrived even, despite everything.

“You’ve done well,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with admiration.

Still, his heart felt heavy as he considered what lay ahead. The ship wouldn’t stay docked for long; it never did. His life was the sea—a life of unpredictability, danger, and adventure. But standing here, surrounded by the quiet hum of your shop, he wondered if there was room for something else.

“You’ve made a good life for yourself,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, leaning against the counter. “I have. It’s not always easy, but it’s mine.”

A silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken questions. He broke it first.

“I can’t ask you to leave this behind,” he said. “You’ve worked too hard to build it.”

Your brow furrowed as you studied him. “And you’re not ready to leave the sea.”

He shook his head. “That's all I’ve ever known.”

You stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm. “Then don’t. You don’t have to choose, Jongho.”

He looked at you, confusion flickering across his face.

“You come and go,” you continued. “The sea is part of who you are, and I wouldn’t want to take that from you. But when you’re here, this can be home. If you want it to be.”

Home. The word hung in the air between you, and for the first time, Jongho felt a sense of calm he hadn’t known he was searching for.

“I don’t deserve that,” he said, his voice barely audible.

You smiled softly. “Maybe not. But it’s here anyway.”

Jongho was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words settling over him. He wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how. He wanted to ask you to come with him, to leave everything behind and sail with him, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair. You had your life here, and he couldn’t ask you to give that up for the uncertain life he led.

But then, without thinking, the words left his mouth, surprising even himself.

“Marry me.”

You froze, your eyes wide with shock. Jongho instantly regretted speaking before he’d thought it through. But he couldn’t take the words back now, and he didn’t want to.

He cleared his throat, trying to explain. “I know it sounds sudden, and I’m not asking you to give up your life here, but…” His voice faltered. “I don’t want to keep going back and forth, not anymore. I want you to be with me, always. Even when I’m out there on the sea. We could make it work, I know we could.”

You stared at him, your heart beating fast as you processed his words. The shock began to wear off, replaced by something warm and steady. Jongho had always been a protector to you, but hearing him say he wanted more—that he wanted to be with you no matter what—stirred something deep inside you.

You took a deep breath, the weight of his question settling on your chest. “Are you sure?” you asked quietly. “This isn’t just about wanting me close when it’s convenient for you?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “No. I want all of you. Even when I’m gone. You’re the only thing that’s ever made me think about staying.”

You met his eyes, feeling the sincerity in his words. There was no doubt in your mind. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice steady now. “If you’re asking me to be part of your life, even with all the uncertainty, then yes. I’ll marry you.”

A smile spread across Jongho’s face, relief flooding through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this certain about anything. Without another word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, the promise of the future settling between you like a quiet promise.

The sea might still call to him, but now, he had something far more important to come back to. And this time, it wouldn’t be just a visit—it would be home.

[strangerthingsfanworkrecs]

Artist Highlight: Stervrucht

This week, we're highlighting @stervrucht! All recs this week will be for her work, both fics and arts. @stervrucht writes, and draws for the Stranger Things Fandom for Harringrove and Steddie. We're highlighting Ster for her digital art pieces with expressive faces and dreamy, almost water-colory brush strokes, and her visceral Harringrove fics.

You should check out her ongoing fic, There's a gap where we meet for some incredibly poetic feral wet cat depictions of Billy, and check out her Ster draws st tag for her art.

She answered some questions about her work under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

I've always drifted between fandoms. I started reading Harringrove back when season 2-3 aired, left, came back and discovered Steddie, left again until I picked up writing and drawing in 2024. The ST fandom had been extremely welcoming and met many wonderful people.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to create for?

I love many ships and what I create for largely depends on what a story or artwork is trying to convey. Each pairing has its own vibe and I try to flow with that. I think if I had to pick just one, it would be Harringrove.

What's your typical writing process like?

Get a hot drink and a blanket and settle on the sofa. I have playlists for each fic so I put that on. I don't really plan my stories thoroughly, but I generally have some events I'm working towards. Other than that I let the characters' emotions guide me.

What's your typical drawing process like?

I seek out references, draw a crude sketch, put down rough colours, and then paint over top. I especially enjoy doing speedpaints because they force you to capture the raw essentials and embrace imperfection.

Do you have a favorite tool or brush set for your drawings?

I use Krita with its default brushes. My favourite brushes are Bristles-4 glaze and Chalk-soft

What has been your favorite project so far? Why?

Writing 'There's a Gap where we meet' has been lovely. I enjoy writing Billy's voice. It's very different from Steve or Eddie.

What has been your hardest project so far? Why?

That's probably 'The Graveyard Shift' and my Big Bang fic. There's a lot of plot and world-building. I've never tackled a project like that before.

Have you ever had a creative block? How did you get over it?

Just do something else. If I can't draw, I write and vice versa. If neither is working, I read.

Is there a big source of inspiration for you? Books? Art? Games?

I have a lot of love for Anne Rice's writing, both stylistically and thematically. Art-wise I love impressionist painters like Monet and van Gogh.

Is there an upcoming project you're particularly excited about?

I have so many things brewing and I'm equally excited about all of them.

[writerquil]

Hi, can I request a one-shot of Jax with a ballerina! reader? 👀, it can be romantic or platonic (she/her pronouns)

Jax x Ballerina Reader (FEM READER)

You'd tried your very hardest to avoid Jax ever since you'd first met him. And it wasn't just because of Ragatha's firm suggestions, it was also because the first time you'd interacted with him he'd smashed your porcelain arm and played it off as an accident.

Caine luckily could fix your arm with just a snap of his fingers but it offended you nevertheless and you'd made a point to stay away from him ever since.

Unfortunately for you, it just intrigued Jax further and egged him on.

He didn't directly approach you anymore and let you distance yourself but conducted mischievous pranks on you from afar instead.

It began with him laying a rat beneath your sheets, so when you uncovered it during night, it left you shrieking and hobbling away from your bed, drawing the attention of many other characters.

You slammed backwards onto the floor, holding out your fragile palms to steady yourself. Luckily nothing on your body had seemingly broke or cracked, but you barely acknowledged it as you jerked your head around the room in an attempt to watch the rat flee.

To your annoyance, the rat had scampered away just as they all peeked in.

Jax, who had joined the gawking characters at the entrance, cocked his head and grinned directly at you, eyeing your fallen position on the floor.

"Wow, rather ungraceful for a ballerina." He quipped smugly.

You glared right back, connecting the dots immediately.

You attempted to explain to the others that he'd planted a rat in your quarters but as Ragatha searched your room alongside you, in search of the pest, she discovered nothing.

"Maybe you just imagined it?" Ragatha guessed.

"You don't believe Jax would do such a thing?" You sighed back, smoothening down your leotard and grimacing.

"Well... he definitely would." Ragatha admitted. "I'm just surprised he's done it to you of all people."

"Why wouldn't he do it to me?" You asked in annoyance, placing your hands on your hips. "He's a prick."

Ragatha shrugged, giving you a slight smile.

"He just hasn't really insulted you much, not even behind your back."

You frowned; but shook it off.

Insults weren't needed when you tormented people instead... as annoying as it was, that was probably Jax's logic.

All you could really do now was prepare yourself for the second prank.

But this one was different.

You strolled through the circus, eyeing the combustion and flurries of colours with wary eyes. It was always overly colourful but these walks tended to help you clear your head and escape from Caine's wretched adventures so you took them anyway.

But of course, all things must come to an end and you reached the edge of the tent pretty quickly. You were preparing to swing back around again when suddenly voices rang out distantly from behind a green block.

You frowned. Who else could possibly be these deep into the tent as you were?

"...Somebody has to tell Caine to stop using Gloinks..." Ragatha grumbled.

"Doubt he will, he loves them." Zooble deadpanned. "Do you think that the newcomer will get swept away by them like me someday? She's really breakable."

You pressed up against the block, resisting the urge to peek.

"Hmm... maybe you guys will go back down to the queens nest together then, killing two birds with one stone." Jax said pleasantly.

Zooble audibly scoffed.

"Whatever. You'd come down to save her anyway. Your stupid little soft spot for her is so obvious!"

Jax's snarky protests were drowned out by Ragatha's giggles and eventually their footsteps echoed away until their voices finally faded completely.

You tried not to feel too special but it was a little difficult to drop the possibility of Jax even caring slightly for you and as you walked back to your quarters, narrowly avoiding gloinks, you could barely suppress the urge to beam or smirk triumphantly.

As you nudged your quarters door open suddenly you heard metal clink from above you and you glanced up to see a can of yellow paint, tipping straight over you.

You tried to avoid it but you were practically a deer caught in headlights at this point and it washed over you, leaving you to spit out paint.

Footsteps breezed by you accompanied by cheerful whistling, no doubt Jax.

But this time, you didn't feel as angry as you were before.

[zerobaselove]

a perfect fit | zhang hao

pairing: campus crush! zhang hao x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 3409

warnings: minor swearing probably?  lowercase intended, not proofread

prompts: 4. "what do you want?" "you" 5. "i want to help you, so please, let me." 11. "is that my sweater?"

notes: combined a hao prompt request (i changed the phrasing of 4 a little bit IMSORRY) with a campus crush! hao request and came up with this,,, honestly longer than i was expecting and somehow shorter than i wanted it to be ?? idk.. anyways geology major! hao you are dear to me (i want him so bad i'm clawing at the walls of my enclosure) hope you all enjoy <3

college was stressful. you knew it would be, it had to be expected. but what you didn’t expect was that the hardest part wasn’t the coursework or the seemingly constant stack of homework sprawled across your desk; it was actually paying attention in your classes.

how were you supposed to focus on mantle convection when three rows down was arguably the prettiest boy you had ever seen in your whole life. zhang hao.

you only had a few classes together, but coincidentally, due to your wandering eyes those happened to be the classes you were falling behind in. and he was to blame. 

truth be told, it seemed everyone had some sort of campus crush on the boy; between the way he dressed and carried himself and the way he always managed to be at the top of every class, just about everyone either wanted to be him or be with him. and you couldn’t blame them in the slightest. 

zhang hao was someone to admire from afar; across the lecture hall or the path between buildings. so when he ended up in a study group you had joined in an attempt to graduate with a respectable grade, you were dumbfounded, what was someone like him doing in a study group for a class he was passing with flying colours? maybe it was charity work, you convinced yourself.

the study group was only so effective for you, with zhang hao in the group you couldn’t focus, yet again. it was too hard to not notice the way he fidgeted with the pen in his hand or the way he doodled small animals in the corners of the paper. or the way he leaned over a fellow classmate as he helped them with a particularly complicated question in the textbook. 

you were doomed.

——

after a few weeks of no progress, you were just about to give up. maybe i’ll just drop out and work at a department store or something. you told yourself as you crouched down outside the library you all studied in. 

sure, you were being a little dramatic. but you were one question away from bursting into tears as you walked out of the study group an hour early. the embarrassment of leaving paled in comparison to crying in front of the boy who had been your reason to showing up to class some days. 

“are you okay?” the question pulled you out of your pity party, looking up to see the tall male in front of you. he gave you a worried look at your curled up frame leaned against the brick. “i’m just feeling a little stupid,” you tried to laugh, a dry husk of humour pushing past your lips.

the boy didn’t respond right away, opting to crouch beside you as he sat down on the concrete right next to you. if you weren’t so stressed about your academics right now, you probably would’ve been a stuttering mess at the close proximity. maybe you would’ve even noticed the scent of his cologne. but all you could do in that moment was frantically wipe your eyes and attempt to not look as pathetic as you felt. 

his eyes softened as he watched your hands rest on top of your knees, “you’re not stupid,” he said, a sweet tone in his voice, comforting even, “it’s a difficult class, everyone has been struggling.” his kind words tugged at your heart more than you’d care to admit.

“but everyone else seems to be getting it eventually.” you sniffled, concentrated on the tears threatening to spill again, “and i just keep slipping further and further behind.” you let out a heavy sigh, “i’m never gonna catch up at this rate.” 

you almost forgot the boy was even sitting there, silently listening to your troubles. “shit sorry,” you let out a pitiful laugh, “i didn’t mean to drag you into being my therapist.” 

he shook his head, a smile spreading across his face, “it’s okay, i’m glad you told me.” he turned his head towards you, “how about we make a deal?”

you only tilted your head in curiosity, urging him to continue his train of thought.

“you let me tutor you from now until exams. if you pass, then we both win, and if you don’t, then at least you tried your best.” 

the offer was sweet, but you couldn’t help but wonder why zhang hao of all people would take time out of his days to tutor you.

“what’s in it for you?” you let a small smile break out across your face, the first in what felt like weeks. 

“well,” he pretended to ponder for a moment, “maybe i just want to pass my knowledge onto someone.” you couldn’t help but laugh at the reason as he continued.

“and maybe, this can double as a way to make a new friend, if you’d want.”

sure. “friend” had no real implications of anything beyond a good acquaintance. but you almost choked at the disbelief. the university’s sweetheart, zhang hao wanted to be your friend? the boy you had spent the better part of the last two months trying to tear your eyes off of while your professor droned on about chemical reactions and the composition of rocks.

“are you sure? i don’t wanna take up too much of your time and-“ he cut you off before you could finish. “i wouldn’t offer it if i wasn’t sure,” he smiled gently, “i want to help you, so please, let me.”

you pondered the offer for a moment again. maybe it was the prospect of spending more time with him, or maybe it was just the idea of finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel that was this class, but you had made up your mind.

“deal.” your smile widened as you stuck out a hand, his own coming out to shake yours as he mirrored your expression. 

this was going to be interesting.

——

your one on one study sessions had only been going on for a few weeks but you were already starting to grasp the concepts more with zhang hao’s help. “just call me hao.” you recall him insisting on multiple occasions, unaware of the way your brain would try and twist the intimacy behind it. just friends, you had to remind yourself, that was all you two would ever be, and that was honestly more than you ever could have expected. 

“hao,” the name rolling off your tongue, “it’s getting late, can’t we wrap this up?” you whined, pouting a little in hopes of getting sympathy from the boy. as smiley as he was, he was also quite the hard-ass when it came to studying.

“one more question and then we can be done for tonight, deal?” he smiled, gesturing to the last practice question from this page. you let out a huff as you mumbled an acceptance of the deal, grabbing your pencil once again as you wrote out the explanation, scouring your brain for the scientific phrases to communicate your thoughts. 

zhang hao looked over your final answer with a content hum, his hand coming over to ruffle your hair, “good job, you’re getting the hang of this.” 

you stiffened at the contact and praise, you had never really gotten validation like that, especially not from someone like him, and your brain was running with it. 

when you originally agreed to this arrangement you hoped that maybe it would be your way to get over your little campus crush on the boy sitting next to you, but it had only gotten worse, and you were slowly losing it. taking a moment to shake the thoughts from your mind, you started gathering your stuff up to leave, as was zhang hao. 

“don’t forget you’re stuck with me tomorrow too, y/n!” he chuckled lightly before saying his farewells and leaving first, rushing off to meet up with his friend; you were sure he mentioned his name once before, ricky maybe? something like that.

you only nodded as you waved, grabbing your jacket off the back of the chair and slinging your backpack over your shoulder, but then something caught your eye; a light blue hoodie draped across the back of the back of the chair next to you. zhang hao’s sweater. the boy was already long gone, and based on how often he was sporting the hoodie, you assumed it was one of this favourites, so you couldn’t just leave it here. “i’ll just give it back to him tomorrow.” you mumbled to yourself, picking up the sweater and resting it over your arm.

when you got back to your dorm you folded the sweater nicely on your desk, right in your view so you wouldn’t forget it tomorrow. as much as you tried to ignore it, that night you couldn’t help but notice the warm citrus scent of his cologne, and you swore you could smell it in your dreams that night.

——

the next day was a brisk spring day, the warm air having been replaced by a crisp, almost cold, breeze. to say you had not dressed properly was an understatement, you thought to yourself as you walked across the campus towards the library. in a moment of weakness as you called it, or rather a moment of strong winds, you took it upon yourself to throw the pale blue hoodie over your frame. he wouldn’t mind too much right?

sitting at your usual table in the library, you set up your many papers and textbooks, not paying attention as the boy you had grown close to approached the table, a little out of breath. 

“sorry i’m late,” he breathed out, catching his breath after seemingly running here. 

“it’s okay, i was early,” you laughed, finally looking up at the boy who’s cheeks were flushed light pink.

you watched as his gaze traced your figure, taking notice of the sweater you were wearing, “is that my sweater?”

now it was your turn to flush a shade of pink, trying to form a sentence as you stuttered through excuses, “oh, i’m sorry,” an awkward laugh escaped your lips, “it’s just you left it here yesterday and so i was bringing it to give back to you but it was colder outside than i thought it was and so i put it on on the way here without really thinking, i can give it back right now,” you barely stopped to take a breath, “or i can go wash it and then give it back if you’d prefer.” your train of thought was stopped by his hand on top of yours, your mind going from a million miles a minute to frozen solid in mere moments. 

“it’s okay y/n,” he chuckled at your flushed expression as he sat down next to you, “it looks cute on you anyways.” he said simply, moving his gaze to the textbooks in front of you as he flipped to the pages you were on the day before. 

this boy was going to be the death of you.

——

something in the air seemed to change after that day, and it wasn’t just the scent of the blooming cherry blossoms in the breeze. something had changed with you two, and perhaps that was how the two of you ended up in your dorm room rather than the library, and on a saturday of all days. 

“what homework have you got for me today teacher zhang hao?” you joked, leaning back on the arms as you sat on the end of your bed, looking at the boy who sat comfortably in your desk chair.

“aren’t i allowed to just hang out with my friend without talking about plate tectonics?” he said, a joking sarcasm lacing his tone. 

you only laughed in response as you tried to control your heart beating out of your chest at the simple, friendly, term. 

before you knew it, the day had faded into night in a blur of laughter and conversation; real conversation. it was a nice change of pace, and as much as you hated to admit it, the more you got to know him, the more your campus crush had changed into just a genuine crush. 

you tried to ignore it, but it was so hard to ignore the comfort you felt being around him, how easy it was to slip into conversations and how easy he made you laugh. how were you supposed to not think about that.

and much to the dismay of your heart, these weekend hangouts had become a sort of routine. on top of seeing him most weeknights at the library, your interactions had spilled into the weekends quite seamlessly. whether it was just having a movie night in your dorm room, wandering campus during sunset, or even just doing normal young adult things like going shopping. the two of you had even gotten into the habit of accompanying each other on errands just to keep the other company. 

it was nice, you couldn’t lie, but the domestic activities made it that much harder to separate your romantic and platonic feelings for the boy. 

and here you were, awaiting the arrival of the boy on a saturday night. every time your phone lit up you rushed to grab it, just in case it was from hao, the casual name becoming more natural over the weeks.

this time it actually was a message on your screen, you found yourself quickly unlocking your phone to see what it said. “i’m going to stop at the store on my way over,” the text read, “do you want anything?”

before the voice of reason in your head could object, you typed back a quick response, “you.” simple, straight forward, to the point. everything you weren’t. it was already too late to cover up your boldness as you watched the typing bubble appear, in sync with the wave of anxiety and near nausea that washed over you.

“you think you can afford me?” he joked back, rolling with the conversation more smoothly than you ever could have, evidently. you typed back a quick laugh, hoping he wouldn’t see the truth behind your original response, “probably not, maybe i’ll just take some gummy worms.” you replied before nearly throwing your phone across the cramped room. 

and to think, you were stuck with him all night.

——

you tried to focus on the movie, you really did, but the all too familiar feeling of wandering eyes and a racing heart took over your senses, and who could blame you? it wasn’t every day you found yourself sharing a blanket with the prettiest and kindest boy you’d ever known. you almost wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from you, or if he would just blame it on the fuzzy blanket covering your legs. you hoped it would be the latter.

soon enough the credits were rolling and you finally pulled yourself from the thoughts spinning around your mind, just in time for hao to turn to you with a smug smile. “you didn’t pay attention to any of that movie, did you?”  the question caught you so off guard you actually choked a little on the sharp intake of breath. was it that obvious? you wondered. you really had to work on your expressions it seems. 

“what’s on your mind y/n?” the smooth, almost teasing tone in his voice would’ve probably made your knees give out had you not already been sat down in your bed.

you managed to stutter out a response, rather reminiscent of the first real conversation you two had months prior. “oh it’s, uhm,” you quickly tried to come up with a believable excuse, settling on possibly the worst one, “it’s nothing.” the stiff laughter did nothing to help your case as he grinned at you knowingly, hopefully not too knowingly. 

“so i’m nothing now?” he feigned offense as his hand came up rather dramatically to his chest. “i thought i meant more to you than that, y/n.” he teased, obviously enjoying watching the gears turn in your brain as you attempted to process the conversation that was happening.

busted.

there was no coming back from it now and you knew it, and more importantly, he knew it. at some point he had picked up on your lingering gaze, your quick glances that you thought had gone unnoticed. all there was left for you to do was either admit your growing feelings, or play dumb about the whole thing. and somehow you decided the latter was the smartest option. 

“i, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about.” another forced laugh pushed past your lips, getting past your thumping heart on the way out. 

it seemed that your reaction filled zhang hao with a new sense of confidence, because he did the last thing you expected him to do; lean in. not close enough for your lips to graze each other, but close enough to feel his breath on you, to feel the heat radiating off of your faces. close enough to feel the thick tension in the air, but you were sure anyone could feel that if they were here, you could even cut it with a knife.

“i think you know exactly what i’m talking about,” he smiled, your eyes darting down to his lips that were only a couple inches from your own before looking back to his eyes; warm and inviting. 

you weren’t sure what to say anymore, and so you made the bold decision to close the gap; only briefly, but long enough to taste the cherry lip balm that coated his lips, to feel the way his lips fit against yours. like tectonic plates.

what started as one chaste kiss turned into 2, and then 3, and then a gentle kiss of yearning, of waiting, accompanied by his soft hands on your cheeks. you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, his soft hands feeling like silk against your burning skin. you could feel him smile into the kiss as your body eased, relaxing into a rhythm. time slowed and suddenly the two of you were the only people in the world, the boy in front of you filling all of your senses. zhang hao. zhang hao. zhang hao. your brain echoed as you pulled away, giddy smiles plastered across both of your faces.

“is that what you were on about?” you smiled, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes once again.

he let out a small laugh, “what do you think?” he sat back against the wall once again, admiring the way the glow from the tv illuminated your skin, and the way you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. “i thought you’d never do something about it.” he laughed again, this time grabbing your hand lazily.

“listen,” you started, “i didn’t think you noticed, and i was okay to keep it that way,” you looked down at your interlocked hands, your mind silently replaying the last 5 minutes on a loop, rendering yourself no better than a broken record. “you’re the zhang hao, everyone has at least a bit of a crush on you, so why would i assume i had any chance.”

he shook his head as a proud smile spread across his face, “everyone?” he asked, leaving you to lightly smack his arm, a small yelp coming from the boy. “okay okay, no need to smack me,” he laughed, “but really, you thought you didn’t have a chance? why would i have offered to tutor you if i didn’t have at least a bit of an interest in you?”

you let yourself ponder for a moment, looking back on the now distant memory. “i just thought you were being nice!” you stated matter-of-factly, earning another giggle from the boy, you could get used to that sound, or rather, being the reason behind it.

he merely smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, “well i’m not nice like this to anyone else, if that helps make it more clear.”

“good,” you mirrored his smile, taking in the beauty that was the boy in front of you, the boy who seemed to fit with you like the tectonic plates.

“because i don’t think i could handle the idea of you spending your wednesday nights talking about rocks with anyone else.” 

[haoboutyou]

hello!!! I really enjoy your fics and was wondering if you could do wonwoo, cheol & mingyu where they're crushing on you? separate ones!!

when they have a crush on you | hhu

fluff | 1278 words (300-ish per member) | no warnings

an: hihi! hope this is what you're looking for! it took me a while ngl I have new-found respect for headcanon writers T-T + added vernon because 🤷🏽‍♀️

divider credit

1. Choi Seungcheol

He carries your bags for you. 

You’re not sure when it started, but you’ve noticed that Seungcheol would always carry your bags for you, even despite your insistence. It’s like he’s made it his own personal mission to carry your stuff for you, even when you’re out with others. of course, this came hand in hand with the other guys teasing you two whenever you hung out. It doesn’t help that Jeonghan often jokes that Seungcheol’s crush on you is an open secret, but the boy in question wouldn’t even dispel his best friend’s words, flushing bright red every time.

“Seungcheol, give me that!”

Seungcheol stops in his tracks, causing you to bump into his back. The equipment in the box clinks against each other as he turns around, facing you. Wordlessly, he dumps the box into your waiting arms, smirking when you almost topple over at the unexpected weight. 

“I told you, sweetheart; leave the heavy lifting to me.”

You glance up at him, a slight blush from the unexpected nickname. When did he start calling you that? A bead of sweat glistens on your brow as you brush that thought away, your expression a mix of defiance and sheepishness. 

"I can manage," you mumble, trying your hardest to conceal the struggle in your tone.

He can’t shake off the apprehension swirling within him. He had warned you, hadn't he? Yet, you continue to persist, your determination outmatching your physical strength. Concern floods Seungcheol as he watches the way your arms tremble at the weight of the box. 

He approaches you, gently but firmly emphasising again. "I told you, y/n.” With a resigned sigh, he reached out, his hands enveloping the box, effortlessly lifting it from your grasp. "Stubborn as ever," his voice's a certain fondness, tugging at your heart for no apparent reason.

You watch him, a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment colouring your features as he continues walking away with the box. Eh, what harm is an extra hand?

2. Jeon Wonwoo

He lets you win in games.

Wonwoo’s proud of his in-game skills; he’s not afraid to say his reflexes sharp and his strategies are flawless. He’s rather good too– having high rankings in the server makes him cocky, Seungcheol likes to say. But as he glanced at his crush beside him, he notices the slight furrow of your brow, a hint of frustration clouding your features as you struggle to keep up.

A pang of empathy tugs at his heart. Wonwoo did ask you to join him at the internet cafe; he only wishes that you would learn to enjoy the game as much as he did. And so, in a split-second decision, he dials back his intensity, purposely taking on more hits to level the playing field.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you suddenly found your character gaining ground, rallying against the opposing team with newfound vigor. Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo was subtly adjusting his tactics– allowing you to seize the advantage, all the while maintaining the illusion of competition.

Your team wins. Across you, Jihoon whoops in joy. “That’s foul!” Chan baulks opposite Wonwoo, clicking away furiously on his keyboard. Wonwoo smirks as he leans back in his chair, the loser banner blinking brightly on his screen. Arms stretching up, he leans over his monitor to peek your screen.

Your eyes seemed to shine brighter than the screen in front of you. Contrary to the boy next to you, your monitor flashes an animated victory banner.

“I did it! We–I did it!” you clap your hands together, grinning ear to ear. You lean towards Wonwoo to bump shoulders with him. 

He chuckles, arms crossing behind his head as he leans back in his seat. “Yes, you did!”

3. Chwe Vernon

He gets you medicine.

“Here.” A box drops in front of you, breaking the concentration you had on your laptop in front of you. 

You look up from your screen in confusion. “What’s this?” 

Vernon nudges the box of painkillers in front of you. He settles down on the chair opposite yours, acknowledging Seungkwan seated beside you. 

“You said you had a headache.” He acts nonchalant as he dives into conversation with his best friend, but the heavy blush creeping up his neck suggests otherwise. Yes, you had texted him earlier asking if he had painkillers on him, but you recalled him replying a plain ‘no’. Either he was lying (you doubt it– why would Vernon lie to you?) or he had stopped by a pharmacy just to pick up some for you.

You’re slightly flushing now, and not because of the dull throbbing in your head. Sure, Seungkwan had fed into your delusion earlier, suggesting that Vernon might have a crush on you– but there’s no way that’s, right?

You sneak a glance at your two best friends in front of you, now engaging in a deep argument about potatoes. Vernon’s brows furrow even deeper but soften when he realises you’re looking his way. The shy smile he sends your way causes cartwheels in your stomach before replacing it with an exaggerated gasp directed to Seungkwan’s way. 

You bury your head back into your laptop, mumbling a quick thanks before trying to focus on your work. Still, you can’t shake off what Seungkwan said about your best friend.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think Vernon has a crush on you.”

“That’s ridiculous, Kwan. He sees me as a friend, just like you.”

Seungkwan wiggles his eyebrows, choosing to scroll on his phone instead half-heartedly. “Sure, Jan,” he scoffs.

You slink back deeper in your seat. That can’t be true, right?

4. Kim Mingyu

He gets jealous of others.

Mingyu watches from across the cafe as you laugh at something Seokmin said, your smile radiant, eyes sparkling with amusement. He feels a knot tighten in his stomach– a familiar pang of jealousy gnawing at his insides. Aren’t you standing a little bit too close for comfort? Your easy camaraderie is triggering a surge of insecurity within him.

Seokmin is charming, there is no denying it. He has a way with words, a magnetic-like personality that drew people in effortlessly. And you seem rather captivated, hanging on to his every word. Usually, your laughter rings out like music to Mingyu’s ears. Today, though, it was all a cacophony of discord. A reminder of what he could be missing out on.

He clenches his fists, trying to push down the rising tide of jealousy threatening to consume him. Mingyu knows he had no right to feel this way; you aren’t his to claim, and Seokmin had every right to befriend you. But logic did very little to quell the sudden surge of possessiveness coursing through his veins.

So he sits, pouting on his own until you notice him from the corner of your eye. He stares you down with his big puppy eyes until you sigh and walk over to your best friend. Your hand can’t help but run through his soft dark hair.

“What’s wrong, Gyu?”

“Hmm?” he leans into your touch, nuzzling against the palm of your hand. “Nothing, Y/n.”

You shoot him a condescending look. “Yeah? You shooting Seokmin daggers with your eyes for nothing?” Your eyes flutter shut as you sigh, shaking your heard in disbelief. Then, ruffling his hair, “If you say so, Gyu.” 

“Anyways,” Mingyu clears his throat, looking up at the cafe’s menu board. “Have you decided what to get? My treat today!” 

“Really?!” Your eyes sparkle, glad you won’t have to open your wallet today. “Help me finish the then cakes, okay? Promise!”