#hi yes trying to get through the entire morning in one shot here

[victorluvsalice]

We've hit Winter Monday in the Chill Valicer Save with this update, still racing to try and fill up the last shelves in the store so we can actually OPEN Van Liddelton Groceries at some point! Let's start right where we left off, with the gang working on making product and getting through their morning chores on the farm --

-->In fact, we are starting almost exactly where we left off, as right after Alice decided to curl up for a wolf nap on the floor of the barn, Kelly wandered in and started meowing in her ear, waking her up. XD A very annoyed Alice lectured the cat on not doing that, and to my surprise, Kelly not only listened, but actually learned Not To Wake Sims Up! So that was nice, at least. However, as she was already awake, Alice dragged herself over to the bulk processing machine to make some boxes of strawberry and raspberry jam, then used her werewolf super-speed to go have a REAL sleep in her and Victor's bed. A lot more comfortable than the barn floor, that's for sure!

-->While this was going on, Smiler finished off another chatterbot, then got sent out on a different mission -- mainly, they got exiled to the nearby pond to fish on the pier! No, I did not care that it was snowing at the time, Smiler's a vampire and thus immune to temperature. XD My goal there was to load up on fishies because I'd abruptly remembered that there was a product on the bulk processor that I hadn't even TRIED to make before -- namely, cans of processed fishcakes! And of course, for fishcakes, you need fish, and Smiler is the Sim who has the most experiencing fishing, so. . .they basically spent the rest of the morning on that dock, doing their best to stock their inventory with as much fish as possible. And as you can see, they made some impressive catches -- in the end, they ended up with a beautiful tuna, a couple of sturgeons, a couple of common upgrade parts, some perches, a minnow, and no less than FOUR catfish, who apparently REALLY like the chamomile Smiler was using as bait. Not bad at all, huh?

-->Victor, meanwhile, spent a good portion of his morning molding candles in canary yellow and shale gray shades -- which, as you can see, involves a lot of boring standing around. Like, seriously, can we speed this process up a little? *sigh* He did eventually complete both candles and headed over to the greenhouse to tend the plants -- I do have to admit, it is always kind of amusing to see him using that giant weed vacuum to suck the dandelions right out of the garden patches. XD His needs were looking like garbage after the initial tending, though, so -- after realizing he didn't have any Potions of Plentiful Needs in his inventory -- I grabbed him some Moodlet Solver so he could get himself back in tip-top shape and get on that harvest! Can't let the plants remain unpicked, after all!

-->Alice woke up in good time thanks to how great her and Victor's bed is, and quickly rejoined the productivity train -- after cleaning the litter boxes, cleaning herself (with the power of werewolf licking), and feeding Toothy, she was back on the bulk processor making boxes of cheese with the milk I'd preloaded in there! She also made some more bulk bags of sugar for canning purposes, which, hilariously, unlocked the Simple Living Cookbook as a book she could write. I -- I don't think making an industrial-sized sack of fruit-based sugar on a giant yellow bulk food processing machine is QUITE in keeping with the spirit of the Simple Living lot trait, game! Even if it DOES require Alice to have all the necessary ingredients. XD

-->With the crops harvested and the cookbook unlocked (and Smiler still very much on fishing duty), it was time to tend to the animals. Alice cleaned the chicken coop, made sure everyone was fed, and gathered the eggs (four normal nonhatchable ones, yay), while Victor checked up on Moory and gave her a good milking. Alice then hopped back on the bulk processor to make the first box of canned fishcakes from the fish Smiler had caught so far while I dumped a bunch of the wrapped white meat from the chickens she'd "sold," some custard, and some blueberries in her inventory for transport to the store. And got HER a Moodlet Solver as well as her own needs were starting to flag. She then made a bit more cheese and did a quick Somber Howl while Victor cleaned up all the various plates around the place (surprising me when he did so in the greenhouse -- I'd forgotten the sink that's on the decorative "potting bench" I put in there is actually, you know, a legit sink)...

And then, after a brief dance break in the living room, it was time to get Smiler back and send everybody off to the store! Because, as previously stated, we have SHELVES TO FILL, DAMN IT. No fun allowed until that happens!

[hoshinasblade]

second best |3| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART 3

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 2k trigger warnings: a bit suggestive at the end author's note: i promised a part three so here it is, hope you guys like it! likes, replies, and reblogs are welcome but im begging you not to copy or steal my works. feel free to sign up for my taglist (which i swear im gonna use on the next fic lol), and i appreciate when people send me asks so let me know your thoughts (or send me hoshina pics, that'd be great too). my masterlist is here! also i gotta let you know that i might put the next fic on hold because i am so tempted to start a short nsfw collection instead - just one-shots so it won't be a lot of commitments. who knows cause i might write angst and nsfw at the same time 😉

soshiro's hands were trembling. you noticed because it has not happened in a while - you cannot even recall the last time you've seen the man nervous, much less shaking. you were going to himeji that morning; hoshina had snatched your backpack from you - "when i said i would make it up to ya, i mean in every way i can," he said, sounding gentle and sincere that your only choice was to let him carry your belongings and blush as he also intertwined his fingers with yours while walking.

there is this story you have been hearing for a while - the red string theory, it is called. according to it, people who are destined to be together will always find each other despite everything and anything. when you were a kid, instead of thinking it romantic, you rather thought it is frightening - fate is a difficult enemy to go against: if it is meant to be, then it will be eventually. when you grew up, you held that belief as a prayer - it means that whoever is the one chosen for you may get lost on their way to you, but they will always - always - arrive.

you glanced at hoshina soshiro and you knew you were right to believe.

it was roughly a four-hour journey from tachikawa to himeji by train, and during the entire ride, even when he fell asleep for a short while, your boyfriend did not let go of your hand. you complained about your palms being sweaty as a joke, and he only loosened his hold. you understood - he is making it up to you, but he is also making up for all the wasted time.  

"we're almost there," you told him when he startled from his nap. his bangs were slightly messy, and he bumped his head to your shoulders. "comfy," he hummed. you giggled.

you are still trying to navigate through dating a high-ranking officer of an anti-kaiju defense force unit. relationships aren't strictly forbidden but still frowned upon, which was a little bit of an issue between you and soshiro when you had a proper and long-overdue conversation about what you guys were. confessing is one thing, but when being friends is all you've known your whole life, you know adjustments are supposed to be made here and there.

 which brings you and him back to your hometown.

he didn't exactly disagree with you, but you are aware he had his reservations about the idea of visiting himeji. "oh i'm pretty sure soichiro-kun would be surprised," you said when you were still planning the trip. "yes, we should kiss in front of him and give him a heart attack," soshiro suggested, and you weren't hundred-percent sure he was just joking. maybe you didn't want him to be.

when the streets started to look familiar, soshiro noted the sudden bounce in your pace. you and he have walked in the same alley years ago - he would wait for you after class and would even make up some ridiculous excuse so you could go home together. "i used to pretend to be tired way back just so i could convince you to slow down. i wanted to spend so much time with you," you reminisced.

"i should have known ya were head-over-heels for me," he teased.

"they miss ya, soshiro-kun. ya don't have anything to worry about." the change in topic wiped the smirk off his face. he was suddenly serious, sad even. there was a part of you that regretted saying the words, but he had to hear it - you only wanted to reassure him after all.

"just that i haven't been here for a long while", he said, squeezing your hand. "i don't know if they think this place is still my home."

"ya need to have faith in the people you care about, soshiro-kun. ya need to trust that they care about ya too," you solemnly advised. "i know that doesn't make any sense sometimes, but that's how i do it."

"have i told ya i love you so much?" he responded, to which you smiled.

"only a thousand times," you joked once more.

the hoshina estate is a spacious one - you have to pass through an automated black gate that directs you to the main house, the cobblestone path lined with cherry blossom trees, their delicate petals swirling when the wind blows gently; the grandeur of the home soshiro grew up in is undeniable with its traditional japanese architecture. a man with striking features and an aura of authority was waiting at the entrance, waiting for his son.

“father,” soshiro greeted the man, bowing deeply.

“an embarrassment that your friend will be the one to bring you home when you could have done it a long time ago,” soshiro’s father scolded him. his stare at soshiro was that of disappointment, which quickly disappeared when he looked at you. “ah, my dear, come on in, hurry, come on in,” he turned and said to you, inviting you in. the hoshina patriarch had always been fond of you - soshiro’s parents had wanted a daughter and they found one in you.

soshiro rolled his eyes. “my father’s favorite child is my girlfriend, great,” he muttered.

the maids made you a great dinner, cooking soshiro’s favorite food per his father’s request. conversation was light, and it was apparent that the old hoshina wanted to catch up so badly on how his son was doing, inquiring in consecutive questions about soshiro’s rank in the unit, his experiences so far, and his long-term plans in staying with the force. soshiro’s replies are detailed, but you know he intentionally did not mention all the instances where he almost died fighting.

soshiro’s father regaled you both with stories of soshiro’s childhood antics - “do ya remember, my dear, when soshiro tripped and fell on his face after training with soichiro? we were so worried, but he only fell asleep,” he recited the memory as if it was just yesterday., his kansai accent thick on his words. the tension that had lingered in the air had dissipated as you finished your meal.

“i had the guest room prepared for ya so ya can rest for tonight,” soshiro’s father had said when his son cut him off.

“no, we can sleep together,” soshiro declared, and thinking it might have sounded improper, he spoke again. “beside each other, i mean. in my room. because we’re tired. from travelling all day," he attempted to clarify but failed.

“ah, may i look forward to a grandchild soon from ya two?” color drained from your face as you slowly closed your eyes. you fought off a laugh but failed.

“ya may, but we aren’t doing that here of all places,” soshiro argued just as his father had turned his back on the both of you, amused with himself. at least now you know where soshiro got his sense of humor.

the hot shower felt great against your tensed muscles, and if you weren’t that exhausted, you would have opted for a bath instead. soshiro wanted to speak to his father alone, so when he ushered you inside his childhood bedroom, he’d let you know that he would be gone while you were cleaning yourself up. you were relieved; you haven’t seen your own father since you were a teenager, and it would be a shame to see it happening to the person you care about the most, not if you can do something about it. and this is not to say that you wanted to fix soshiro’s life - you pointed this out to him once - but he’s had a terrible habit of holding back and assuming the worst, so you had decided that if you could help him out, you would push him to the right direction.

“didn’t ya pack clothes?” his eyes were on you immediately after he came in, finding you on the bed with your phone, wearing his shirt.

“i did, but yours look better,” you replied, holding your arms out and showing him how oversized it is on you - the sleeves are passed your elbows, the hem reaching the middle of your thighs.

“they look better on ya, i agree.” he sat on the mattress for a few moments before lying down, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. “ya all good?”

“i am,” you said to him. “especially because i scanned yer photos when ye're still little while ya were gone,” you informed him then showing him a folder you created in your device - baby hoshina soshiro folder, you named it - full of duplicates you made of the framed pictures of your boyfriend all over the house. there’s one where he didn’t have any hair at all; there’s one where he was close to crying but appeared to be keeping the tears in; there’s one where he was missing a tooth but smiling like there’s no tomorrow. soshiro moved to take your phone away, but you were quicker than him.

“this is payback, for all the times ya weren’t talking to me.” you were alluding to the three long months when you were still an applicant to the defense force and soshiro acted like you were a stranger. he had apologized for it already, but it is nice to make fun of him sometimes so you brought it up. “that hurt my feelings, ya know.” you laid down beside him, invading his personal space, your shoulders touching his.

“i was stupid”, he said. “and it’s not like i could have come up to ya and said, hey i’m sorry for leaving ya in himeji, by the way i’m crazy for ya.”

“and all those times i thought ya had something with commander ashiro, oh god!” you exclaimed for effect. “by the way, the other recruits thought the same.”

“it’s not like that between her and me.” his gaze on you was brief. “it’s not like that with anyone else.”

“it better not be, because i’m leaking all yer baby photos to the first division if ya mess up,” you threatened him despite not needing to.

“i promise, i won’t.” he grabbed your hand from your side and linked it with his, cradling it to his chest before bringing it to his lips. “i’m not that stupid.”

soshiro’s childhood room was what you would expect from a teenage boy: a king-sized bed, a bookshelf of manga, a cabinet showcasing knives and blades. you never had the opportunity to enter his room even when you were kids, you realized. you looked up to the ceiling and you saw green dots that formed shapes - makeshift constellations, you recognized the patterns - little plastic stickers that you glue to surfaces. “are those supposed to be stars?”

soshiro sighed, his arm on top of his face. “yeah, uh - remember when uh - i think that was in junior high, and ye're so into astronomy? i thought it’d be a good idea to know the names of the stars to impress ya, so i started trying to memorize them.”

you shifted to face him, speechless. maybe if you had known this, if you had known the other things you are certain now that soshiro had done and was willing to do for you, you wouldn’t have wasted years questioning your place in his life and deciphering his feelings. a wave of warmth washed over you as you reached out and lifted his arm off his face, meeting his eyes.

soshiro’s lips felt as soft as it looks like, you thought as you kissed him. you pushed yourself into him, and he pulled you tighter until it seemed there was not enough air for you to breathe - until your chests were pressed together it was as if your hearts were beating as one. something sparked inside you; the sensation of being so close to soshiro about to consume you from within. his hand crawled to your hips and remained there. you drew back a bit after that, and when you saw the panicked look on his face, you kissed him again.

“i love you,” you told him in between pants.

the night went on, and by the end of it, hoshina soshiro discovered that his favorite sound is you moaning his name.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the soaring arrow

fused with the foe, chapter two

a/n: we getting somewhere in this one... progress... and by progress, i of course mean that we are one chapter closer to when they finally get to be happy and in love.

summary: “…do you still wanna learn?”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, violence, gore, injury, weapons, big scary dire bear, a bit of a cliffhanger of an ending to this chapter (the drama is here, it has arrived, in the majestic for of [spoiler])

word count: 4706

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Rising yet again from the plush stool, your feet carried you the short distance back around to the opposing seat. Your elbow came to rest against the edge of the small games table as you glanced down at the chequered board and your chin swiftly found your propped-up palm as a bored breath seeped from your lungs. 

As you moved one of the ivory pieces, the thoughts you’d been trying to keep at bay for weeks slipped through ever so slightly. The king hadn’t talked to you since the wedding, in fact, whenever you’d been in the same room with each other, his gaze never found you. 

You might as well have been invisible.

The arm beneath your face slowly melted down till it layed flat against the table and you let your head follow along. Slumped over, your cheek pressed against your forearm. 

Raising your gaze from your up-close perspective of the chess pieces, it fell upon the man leaning 

against the wall by the exit. Dark locks only half tied up, a crossbow was strapped to his broad back as his stormy gaze stayed low and locked on the small dagger he absentmindedly twirled and flipped in his fingers.

Letting out another sigh, you didn’t bother straightening out before you asked, “so, is this just how it’s gonna be?”

Halting his fiddling, Barnes’ eyes met yours, “pardon me, your majesty?”

“You just lurking wherever I am, is that how it’s gonna be for the rest of my life?” you lifted yourself only slightly so that both of your palms pressed into your soft cheeks to prop it up. 

“No, I’m just here till you get settled, then I’ll go back to my usual business,” the advisor stated. 

“And when will that be?”

“I don’t know, your majesty,” he sheathed the short blade at his side, “why? If it’s because you don’t care for my presence then please just say so, I won’t be offended if you’d rather have a different warden looking out for you.”

“No,” you sat up properly, “it’s not that, not at all, I just–… could I maybe go for a walk?” the question hesitantly left your lips. 

“Sure, you can,” he nodded slightly, “where do you wanna go? I could show you the Valarian Ward in town, there are lots of museums there you might like–”

“No,” you cut his offer off, “I meant if I could go for a walk on my own.”

“Oh… well, I’m not entirely sure that’s the best idea…” he uttered carefully. 

“I am your queen, aren’t I? So, can’t I just command you to let me go by myself?” you tried, blinking up at him like a little puppy, “please, Barnes.”

A low sigh then flowed from his lips as his stare raked across the floor. A moment passed before he opened his mouth again, slowly saying as his gaze stayed averted, “your majesty, I am gonna leave for a moment, I suddenly remembered that I forgot something in my chambers this morning. Please excuse me as I momentarily won’t be here watch where you go,” his eyes flicked up to meet yours, “you got that?” 

“Yes,” a bright smile stretched across your features, “I understand what you’re saying,” as you instantly shot up to your feet, “thank you, Barnes.” 

Though half regretting his choice already, he still offered you a half-hearted smile, “you’re welcome, your majesty.”

Bending down, you plucked a long-stemmed daisy and added it to the bouquet of wildflowers your left fist was tightly enclosed around. As you lifted yourself back up, your vision washed over the blossoming meadow you stood on, located on the hill directly north of the castle. From here only parts of the seaside community were perceivable, as from this angle the mountainous fortress blocked off the vast majority of Borün city, only the edges closest to the main road, like the city stables and the water mill, caught your gaze. But the farmlands that curved over the rolling hills west of the town had no obstructions in their path. The vision of golden fields as well as wide pens that housed both fuzzy brown cows and round little sheep, that blissfully soaked in the mild afternoon sun, couldn’t help but bring a smile to your lips. 

Peeking over your shoulder, the warnings of the king’s right-hand man faintly echoed in your mind as you glanced at the thick forest. Temptation had swayed your feet to carry you dangerously close to the edge. The Noll woods didn’t seem that dangerous from this angle, perhaps it was safe enough on the perimeter and it was just the dangers deep within it that they were so terrified of. So, the next thing you knew, your leisurely stride had crossed the meadow and the dark wilderness had swallowed you whole. 

Extending an arm as your feet slowly walked over the crunchy leaves and the pillowy moss clusters, you felt the cool leaves brush against your open palm, almost as if you were greeting each and every one of them as you passed. The chirping birds high up in the dense treetops sang a pleasant melody that caused a bright smile to bloom on your lips. 

You weren’t sure how long you ventured forth, deeper and deeper into the twisted forest, but eventually, a small and speckled bush caught your eye, ripe with the vibrant berries you recognised from the layered cake that you had been served for tea just a few days prior. The fabric of the long burgundy cloak you wore billowed behind you as you rushed to pluck the small fruits. A soft hum vibrated at your lips as you tasted their tart sweetness, popping them in your mouth one by one. 

Though just as your head was up in the clouds, over the moon about this little slice of paradise you had discovered, a low growl emanated from the tall shrubs just behind the berry bush. Your fingers froze in an instant and the fruits in your berry-stained palm rolled to the ground. Slowly, you raised your gaze as a giant snout pushed through the dense plants and the creature’s rotten breath fanned across your cheeks, causing your stomach to churn. 

Holding your breath, petrified with fear, you willed your feet to shuffle back at a terrifyingly slow pace. Your entire body trembled like a leaf on the wind as your eyes stayed glued on the dark animal slowly creeping into the clearing. 

A bear, though at least three times the size of any normal one, came stomping into the light. Its footsteps were heavy enough to make the forest floor quake. Long and gnarly teeth curled up over its drooping lip as viscus slobber, and what looked like blood, dripped from its gums, staining the blades of grass below with every hefty step. Nowhere on its scarred skull were something that resembled eyes, so as it sniffed loudly, your hair nearly rustling in the gust, the blind monster detected precisely where you stood.

A snarl rumbled out from its toothy maw as it clawed closer to you like a predator playing with its food just before it pounced. Eclipsing the dabbled sunlight that streamed in through the tree canopy, the massive creature blocked off any chance you had of escape. The petrifying roar it then let out caused your hands to instinctively shoot up in front of your face. 

Falling back, you collided with the thick tree trunk right behind you. Adrenaline pumped so furiously throughout your body that the tree almost felt like a pillow, as your body was so filled with terror that it didn’t let you notice any of the pain. 

Through your shielding fingers, you caught sight of a swift movement, though it wasn’t the ravaging bear before you. From out of nowhere a broad figure suddenly appeared, slipping in between you and the creature. 

Your eyes widened as you saw the king hold a shield up high, groaning from the strain as he blocked the monster’s mighty attack. Drawing a stout axe at his belt, he sliced it low, catching one of the bear’s legs and causing it to reel back enough for him to bash the shield against its snout, sending it back a few paces. The arching blows he then landed on the gnawing beast were a brutal blur to your eyes as he didn’t yield till the monster was slain and its blood stained the mossy forest floor. 

Slowly turning to face you, crimson dabbled his features and tainted his beard as he stared you down and roared, “what the hell were you thinking?” his broad chest still heaved from the battle as he took a step closer to you, “you’re not in Obelón anymore, you can’t just wander off!”

“I–… I’m sorry,” you said weakly, your eyes felt heavy as you stumbled to distance yourself from the tree trunk, “I didn’t–”

“You didn’t what?” inching closer, he sheathed his weapons, “think you’d bump into a dire bear? What if it had been something worse, huh? What then? Do you have any idea of what kind of dangers lurk in these shadows?”

Black spots dappled your vision as you just managed a faintly utter, “I’m s-sorr–,” before you collapsed. 

As the king caught you in his arms, your cloak unfurled to reveal the silks of your gown ripped and peeking out from the shreds was a grave wound on your waist. 

When you finally woke up, you weren’t in the forest any longer, but warm under the covers in your own bed.

You weren’t sure what you noticed first, the familiar surroundings or the sharp sting that throbbed at your side. Wincing silently, you pulled down the blankets and saw the clean cloths that bandaged the injury. As you carefully ran a fingertip over the dressing, a figure at the foot of the bed caught your hazy gaze. 

Slumped over on a small stool with his head resting against his folded-up arms, there sat the king, completely out cold. 

A clay pitcher of water stood on the adjacent bedside table beside a few empty cups that had a deep green tint to the glass. Carefully, as to not rouse the slumbering monarch, you reached for the jug in order to quench the thirst that scratched at your throat. As your fingertips brushed against the handle and moved it just a tad, an aching wave suddenly washed over you as the attempt stretched and disturbed your injured waist enough for you to recoil back, accidentally tugging at the decanter in the process and retroactively knocking over one of the nearby glasses.

As soon as it smashed to the stone floor, the king bolted up like he’d been struck by lightning. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you rushed as you clutched your throbbing side and leaned back against the pillows, “I just wanted something to drink.”

Still groggy, he sucked in a breath as he squinted over at you in the bed, “don’t move,” his voice was deep from sleep, “I’ll get it,” and he reached over to fill up the glass that didn’t fall to its doom, “here,” handing it to you, his eyes stayed on you as you took a sip, “how are you feeling?”

Lowing the drink to your lap, you watched the water ripple gently in the glass as you uttered, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking I’d run into any monsters, I just wanted to see the forest. I’ve never been in a real forest before, so I just–… I’m sorry…”

A low sigh flowed from the king’s lips before he asked, “how are you feeling, dove? Does it hurt badly? Because I can fetch you some herbs if it does.” 

“It’s not pleasant, but I’ll manage,” as you always did. Your pain tolerance was through the roof when it had to be, “I’m sorry.”

“Would you please stop apologising?” your tense gaze finally flickered up to meet his, “I understand you wandering out on your own, I even understand you wanting to explore the forest, but what I don’t understand is why you didn’t bring a weapon with you. I know you don’t know too much about this kingdom, but you must have a basic understanding of just how dangerous it is, especially The Noll Woods. So why didn’t you bring anything to protect yourself with?”

“What?” you blinked, “I don’t own a weapon.” 

Eyes widening, his brows shot up, “you don’t?” 

“No…” you shifted lightly under his gaze, “why are you looking at me like that?” 

Leaning forward slightly, he asked, “dove, do you not know how to fight?” 

“Why would I know how to fight?” 

“Why would you–…” he echoed faintly before lowing his gaze to the blankets spread out on the canopy bed, “gods, I knew that Obelón’s high walls helped protect its people from many creatures, but I know even that doesn’t stop the citizens from knowing the basics at least. Why didn’t you ever?” he found your eyes once more, “you’re of royal birth. Why haven’t you been in lessons since you were a child?” 

Shifting your grasp around the glass, you uttered, “…my father wouldn’t let me…” your brows were still deeply knitted as you said, “I thought it was improper for fine ladies to have such skills.” 

“It’s not,” he shook his head, “trust me. Some of the best fighters I’ve ever known were fine ladies such as yourself.” 

“Really?” you couldn’t help but inch forward a bit. 

“Yeah, my mom for one taught me a lot of what I know, as well as–…” an unreadable expression briefly washed over his features as his sentence suddenly crumbled, “well, others…” 

“I always wanted to learn,” you thought back, “used to spy on my brothers when they were training, even tried to convince Callum to teach me in secret, but none of it ever worked out… my dad always found out and then he’d–…” your gaze stayed locked on the outline of your legs beneath the covers as you felt a shiver run down your spine, “I, uhm… I learned to stop doing that. Going against his rules.” 

After he helped you place the glass back beside the pitcher, the king’s deep timbre filled the chamber once more, “…do you still wanna learn?”

The gentle wind kissed your cheeks as you squinted your eyes at the circular target close to the ivy-covered outer wall of the front courtyard. Though the training area stood nestled between the warden’s barracks and the royal stables, the king’s right-hand man had ensured that there wouldn’t be as many people crowding the common area as there usually were, a gesture you’d become thankful for as the act of learning an entirely new skill was intimidating enough without having the added commotion of experts in the field directly next to you, granting you the perspective of just how green you were. 

Over countless days, bedridden in your chambers, the wound to your side had scabbed over and healed nearly completely. Though the wait was significant, it hadn’t felt that dreary, since at the first dawn you woke, the king’s presence had been exchanged for a tall stack of meticulously selected books. The majority of them were factual records about Eflorr, the land, the history, everything that had been out of your fingertips in the library of your birthplace. But occasionally in between the tomes of the kingdom were books of completely different genres. There was a wide and worn book of fables that had whimsical illustrations on each page, a pocket-sized novel counting the mystery of a fictional rogue, as well as a collection of flowery poems. 

Letting the nocked arrow fly, it didn’t pierce itself into the bullseye your eyes were boring a hole into, but instead joined the cluster lodged in the ground. 

“I am never gonna get this,” you muttered, nearly tossing the training bow from you. 

“Oh, don’t lose hope yet, your majesty,” you twisted your neck to see Barnes standing by the small, open-style stables adjacent to where you stood, petting the cheek of the black horse that stuck its head over the fence, “you’ve only been going for a few days.” 

Drawing another arrow from the quiver not yet strapped to your back, but simply resting on the small stool scooted close, you attempted once more, and though it didn’t hit the target, the arrowhead did wedge itself in between two of the stones on the wall behind it. 

“Not bad,” your body jumped at the unexpected voice, “you’re getting closer.”

Spinning around, you saw the king, arms crossed and leaning against the building directly behind you, “your majesty!” your eyes grew to the size of saucers, “h-hello.”

“You need to relax your bow arm more,” he pushed himself off of the wall and walked up to you. 

“What?” you blinked, still slightly stunned and scrambling to catch up to the fact that he was even there. 

“Here,” he stepped up behind you and a sharp breath of air filled your lungs as his touch found the limb clutching the bow, “you need to relax this arm,” his presence ghosted against your spine as his touch adjusted your appendage to the proper angle, “and lower it just a bit,” plucking up an arrow, he too nocked it for you and let his fingers linger over yours as you drew the string back tight, “use the corner of your lips as an anchor,” as the feathery fletching tickled your cheek, you could have sworn that you felt his curled knuckle shyly brush against your features as well, “and since you’re not very brawny, try and keep a bit of tension right here, it’ll help,” his hand slid down to your waist, the other palm briefly joining on the other side before he let go of you. You could feel the gentle gust of his breath on the shell of your ear as his low voice instructed you, “give it a try.”

The arrow then soared through the air and lodged itself into the outermost ring of the target, “oh my gods,” you squealed, your body victoriously wiggling at the sight, “I did it!”

“Atta girl,” he smiled at the result, and you turned your head to gaze back at him, the fact that he hadn’t shifted back yet caused a shiver to crawl up your spine, “see? I knew you could do it,” his eyes finally flickered down to yours, though when the close proximity dawned on him, only a second passed before his feet began to move, “anyways,” clearing his throat, his vision now seemed to wander over anything but you, “uhm… good job,” he offered your upper arm a small pat, “keep it up,” then turned to the high warden still off to the side, “Buck, I need you to take a look at something for me, up in the war room.”

Giving the horse one last scratch, Barnes answered his friend, “sure thing.”

“You know the king well, correct?” you asked the soldier as he walked with you down to breakfast. At this point, you’d gotten fairly used to Barnes acting as your shadow.

“You could say that,” the corners of his lips curled up in a soft smile, “my mom was a servant here at the castle, so I essentially grew up alongside him. Then as soon as I was old enough, I joined the wardens, partly just to stay at his side. So yes, I do know him well,” he nodded slowly, “I know him very well.”

Rounding the corner, you walked down a long hallway with windows facing out toward the sea all along the right wall. Motes of dust hung suspended in the morning sunbeams that spilt into the hall, perfectly still, like flakes of gold leaf trapped in resin.

Glancing over at him once more as you stepped through one of the golden rays, you slowly opened your mouth once more, “can I ask something?”

“You can ask me anything you’d like,” he met your eye. 

“Does–…” you hesitated a moment before averting your gaze to gather up the courage to utter, “does the king have someone else?”

Gently cocking his head, Barnes echoed, “someone else?”

“Does he have someone else?” you repeated, sensing heat creep up in your cheeks.

“Oh, uh,” he breathed as you reached the end of the hallway and he stretched out his arm to push open the door you’d arrived at, “no, not that I know of.”

As he opened the door to the smaller of the dining rooms for you to enter, you noticed that you’d been unconsciously gnawing at the inner part of your bottom lip till it nearly bled and you forced yourself to stop, “alright…”

When you crossed over the threshold, Barnes stayed put on the other side, though offered you a small nod before the heavy doors fell shut behind you. 

Turning to face the long table centred in the chamber, your eyes suddenly grew wide as an unexpected figure sat on the far end. 

“Good morning,” the king glanced up at you as he popped the piece of strawberry lodged on the tip of his fork into his mouth. 

“Your majesty! I–, I–…” you blinked a second, finding it impossible to get your feet to move the last few paces over to your set place, “I thought you took your breakfast up in your personal chambers.”

“Felt like a change in scenery today,” he plucked up a porcelain cup filled with steaming tea and brought it to his lips, though paused before taking a sip, “is that alright?”

“Of course, it is,” a shudder ran through you as you shook yourself out of your stupor and sat down at the table. 

A generous spread of options layed arced around your empty plate. From seasonal fruits, cut up and arranged on an oblong platter, to hearty bread, sliced and toasted, propped up for it to stay crisp, the selection never ceased to make your belly rumble in want. 

When your plate was filled up and you slowly began to pick away at it, the king’s voice suddenly echoed from the other end of the table. 

“Are you busy this afternoon?”

“Busy?” you lifted your gaze and sent it down past the short floral centrepiece to look at him, “no, your majesty, not in particular. Why do you ask?”

His elbow was propped against the edge of the table and his hand gently rested against his beard as he continued to stare at you, “I was wondering if you’d care to promenade with me.”

“I know it doesn’t look like much from this angle,” the king pointed to the dark cave entrance on the cliff that the castle stood upon, “but that emergency exit has saved countless monarchs.”

“So, the tunnel leads up to the basement?” you glanced down to the part of the coastline still a ways further down the pebbly beach.

“Yep, opens up into the wine cellar, it’s actually one of the racks that’s concealed as the door down.”

Glancing up at him as you slowly walked beside one another, an amused smile curled up on your lip, “clever.”

“Yeah, my mom thought so, she was the one who implemented it.”

The corners of your lips then dropped back down, and you waited a second before asking softly, “when did she pass?”

“A while ago now…” his vision briefly flickered down to look at the waves foam at the shore, “anyways, I’d recommend taking a guide with you if you’re gonna go exploring in the cave because it can be easy to get lost if you didn’t grow up with it as your playground.” 

“I’ll remember that,” a faint chuckle bubbled out of you.

The pebbles crunched beneath your slow stride as you made your way down the beach, closer and closer to where the fort loomed and the docks beyond flourished into the bustling city. 

After he’d bent down to pick up a smooth, dark rock, the royal then spoke in a slightly apprehensive tone, “hey, I actually wanted to talk to you about something…”

Noticing that his stride had halted, you stopped as well, “yes, your majesty?”

His gaze stayed on the small rock in his palm as he turned it a few times, “I know I haven’t exactly been the warmest towards you, I haven’t given you any solid reason to trust or even like me,” his ocean eyes then lifted to meet yours, “but we are supposed to rule together, be a team. So, I propose that we call a truce. Let’s start over and try and be friends,” his broad hand then extended. 

Clasping your fingers around his palm, you shook on it, “truce,” and a small smile bloomed as you then returned to your walk.

Your eyes didn’t stray long from him, staring at him inquisitively till he, on a glance, noticed.

“What?”

“It’s just,” you squinted over at the man walking beside you, the water gentle and calm behind him, “I don’t even really know you…”

“Well,” he breathed, as if that setback was easy enough to remedy, “what would you like to know?”

“I don’t know…” as you continued to stare at him, your fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the opalescent stone attached to the chain hanging from your neck, “tell me everything.”

“Everything?” his eyebrows raised a second before he exhaled lowly, “alright… uhm,” he then lowered his gaze as he scrambled his brain, “my favourite colour is blue. I can’t stand pears,” he began to list off, “I know I don’t look it now, but I was a very scrawny kid, sick all the time. I’m excellent at skipping rocks, actually learned how to just down there from an old family friend. What else… uh, I don’t have a lot of free time, but the little I do, I tend to either read, history in particular, as well as draw or paint, whenever I have the chance.”

“Paint?” you chuckled as that was one of the last things you thought he’d say. 

“Yes,” he nodded, “not many, but a few of my pieces are strung up around the castle.”

“I will have to keep my eye out for those, your majesty,” you smiled. 

“Oh, and please, no more of that,” he pleaded, “you shouldn’t call me your majesty any longer, we’re friends now,” he momentarily turned to toss the rock into the rippling sea, and a small ring bloomed on the surface as it delved in, “you are my wife,” the corners of his lips tugged upwards as he faced you once more, “you should call me by my name.”

“Alright, Steve,” the name felt oddly intimate on your tongue, “I’ll try my best to do better.”

As he smiled down at you, a shadow suddenly soared across the sky above both of your heads. Lifting your eyes to the clouds above, they swiftly went wide in fear as you saw the creature that flew straight towards the village. 

“Oh gods, is that a–”

“Dragon,” Steve uttered before you could. 

The winged behemoth of a beast had scales like the darkest tree bark, but in the sunlight it soared through, they shined regally like an oil spill. 

Grabbing you by the hand as warning bells rang out over the seaside community, Steve dragged you with him and he addressed the two wardens that had lingered a few paces back while you both were out, “take her inside, through the cave, stay low, away from any windows.”

“Yes, my liege,” they swiftly replied and moved to defend you, but as the king’s grasp left yours, you reached out to halt him.

“Wait!” your fingers rushed to snag your lucky charm off, “here,” and you layed the fine necklace into his open palm before finding his eyes one last time and uttering, “please don’t die.”

Closing his fist around the jewel, he offered you a grave nod before the wardens led you into the cave and the king rushed down the banks and up the algae-slick steps that led up to the harbour. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[applejuicewerewolf]

Just watched M27 (in cinema! That was cool!!) And oh boy, thoughts!

First of all, I was sooo excited to watch this anime movie in an actual cinema, with other people who were also there to watch an anime movie (in an actual real cinema). Idk, I often still feel like liking anime is something embarrassing, even tho it becomes more and more mainstream, so seeing 20 or so people who also openly announced that they liked it was amazing.

Now, to the actual content of the film:

Love Love LOVE Heiji and Kaito's dynamic here. He was so angry that he drove his fucking motorbike through a window!!

The fact that the KaiShin same face thing is something Heiji is surprised by is very weird, considering that he knew that Kaito always disguises as Shinichi in movies (and yes, the movies have their own continuity, see the fireworks-soccer-ball!!)

Additionally, I watched this film in the German dub. In German, Conan and Shinichi have the same VA, and Ksito has a different one. Still, Heiji makes a note of Kaito sounding similar to Conan (their German VAs do NOT sound similar!!!)

(On that note, they replaced the German VA for Kogoro and I am scared to google why :(( )

Also in the German introduction, Conan LITERALLY calls Kaito his "fated rival" ("schicksalhafter Gegenspieler"), which is very gay for the movie that completely reveals them as cousins.

Kaito feeding seagulls. Just that. It was funny. This is what happens when he has to leave his doves at home. He is a disney princess but only for birds.

Loved the scene where Kaito was attacked while on the ground and was shown to be out of his depth. Catch him on the ground and he is a wingless bird.

Additionally loved that scene because Heiji and Conan jumped in to save him. Their dynamic was so good, with Heiji attacking front and center, Kaito trying to shoot the attacker, and Conan coming clutch with his soccer ball. These three are so much fun together, and I love how throughout the movie they hunt Kaito in one scene, and work with him in the next.

They also alway immediately recognize his disguises??? That was hilarious. These three are one the same wavelenght and I'm all for it.

Oh speaking of disguises, I am VERY surprised nobody even mentioned Okita being the third same face triplet. Would've probably taken away from the KaiShin cousins reveal, I guess?

Minor mention: idgaf about Momiji and I never will. Useless character. Why does she even exist at all. Focus on the main characters...

Okay, I cannot keep quiet about it anymore. The entire "Ginzo gets shot" scene was THE BEST THING EVER. Kaito literally reliving the trauma of losing his parental figure again, and being unable to even SHOW IT OR VISIT HIM? Him having to silently watch as Aoko (MY GIRL IS ON THE BIG SCREEN I ALMOST CHEERED) is going through this all alone??? She probably was still in Ekoda. Did she get a phone call and was flown in to Hokkaido? WHERE THE FUCK IS MIDORIKO IN THIS?!?!?! GOD. This scene. I want 500 character studies of this scene on my desk by tomorrow morning.

That being said, with the Toichi reveal at the end, NOT ONLY did Kaito hide his emotions as he visited his mortally injured father figure in the hospital, his actual father was RIGHT THERE??? TOICHIIII YOU RAT BASTARD I WILL KILL YOU!

Why even WAS Toichi there. Legit. Ugh, I wanna do this in chronological order.

Anyways, AOKO SCREENTIME MY BELOVEEEEED

I feel like she was underused tho. Her only contribution was calling Conan Kaito's twin, and that was it. Feel like that's a running theme with DetCo focusing too much on random murder of the day and not its actual characters (something that also HIGHLY annoyed me during the Scarlet Schooltrip >_<)

Speaking of, that plotpoint was also kinda never mentioned again after the half point of the movie?

Coming towards the end of the story, the car chase with like 5 different parties through the city was hilarious. This is the stupid Shounen action I expect from DetCo movies (but not the stupidest Shounen action we'll get!)

As for the actual plot, I don't really care for that in DetCo movies, I'm more interested in the established characters doing fun and wacky shit.

Also so not a fan of the "murderer misunderstands or misreads a situation, making their murders pointless" storylines in DetCo. Tho M19 was probably the worst one in that reguard (girl what!)

Okay, so the Kendo guy. His mother died to a bombstrike, so he wants to blow up a mountain with lots of civillians on it. Because he's anti war. Girl what.

And now to the peak of Stupid Shounen Battles: swordfight atop a flying airplane, one of the combattants wears no shoes.

Absolutely LOVED Kaito catching Heiji midair. He does it with Conan, he did it with Heiji. Hakuba, you're next.

Sure, Iori just randomly DROPPED A FLASHBANG right in front of Heiji and Kazuha. Tho shout out to my girl Kazuha who was quick and smart enough to cover Heiji's ears as she "Get down Mr President"ed him.

At this point, shoutout to Ran. She gives it her all to make this Ship a thing. Loved her "casually but ominously deduce Heiji's true intentions" thing she did. Go be a love detective, honey!

Okay, the after credit scene. VERY NATURAL REVEAL you guys did there. Just casually have Yusaku suddenly say "yes, my wife whom I have been married to for at least 18 years, I have a twin brother i haven't seen in 2 decades." Wow.

HE REGULARLY TEXTS TOICHI??? TOICHI WHO FAKED HIS DEATH. THEY TEXT! THEY! TEXT!

YOUR SON BELIEVES YOU DEAD AND WANTS TO AVENGE YOU YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE

WHY WERE YOU THERE! WHY WERE YOU IN DIGUISE THIS ENTIRE TIME!

I HATE TOICHI EVEN MORE NOW WTF

Conan kill your uncle with a soccer ball please.

[manicpixiefelix]

never wanted anything from you (except everything you had)

{ One-Shot AU for head, heart, hand. }

@saintbeau asked: I know you said in the Canon ending, up until a certain point, Oliver was planning to let the reader live. If he'd never decided to kill them, do you think they'd suffer a similar fate as Farleigh and be forced out? Or do you think there's ever a possibility of 'the pet coming with the house' so to speak? I think to a degree Oliver's yearning to take Felix's place could lead him to essentially slotting himself alongside the reader if they'd allow it.

Summary: After the death of your best friend and his sister, you can't bring yourself to stay at Saltburn, even when their grieving mother wishes you would. However, after several years away to process and grow, you find yourself back in touch with Oliver Quick, who's changed so much in the time you've spent apart. Fate certainly has a funny was of working out, so you're not entirely surprised to end up back at the place you'd once called home.

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. Oliver/Reader are endgame here.

Warnings: Very poor relationship with reader's parents. SALTBURN-CANON ENDING; Felix & Venetia are still dead, but we get a happy ending this time. Also not sure if it needs a warning but Oliver does admit to killing Felix.

A/N: 4162 words. This got away from me. this ends up being so painfully fluffy. it's VERY Oliver/Reader, Oliver's less of a bastardman and he doesn't kill Elspeth but her health is failing significantly like it does in the movie. i think i might have made him a better person as compared to the film, but it's still canon compliant mostly. it ends so fluffy and happy tho, i love it omg. AGAIN THIS IS NOT CANON TO head, heart, hand.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

There is no world where you stay where Oliver wins.

But there's a world where you leave, heart too heavy with grief, where you transfer from Oxford and spend time as an adult reconnecting with your own family, where he finds you again. Your parents don't respect you as family, but you're granted access to their lives, to be in their line of sight; you become almost like a live-in assistant who takes meals with them but for whom they show no outward affection.

It's all you have left.

You tell yourself it's enough.

"That Catton fellow offed himself," your father says it with such idleness, as if reporting the weather.

"Sir James?" You almost choke on your breakfast, and father peers down his nose at you over his morning paper, giving you a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Yes, sorry, I forgot you knew him -"

"Surely it doesn't say that he offed himself," your mother frowned, tugging at the corner of the paper to try and get a look at the article. They bicker lightly, charmingly, in the middle of this cafe about the death of your best friend's father, and what the article is saying or implying, but you just wonder about Elspeth.

Later, when you search through old papers and memories and notebooks, you find the number for Saltburn and call. Duncan's voice is familiar, as is yours to him.

"Captain," the old nickname is so gentle on his tongue, the most gentle you'd ever heard him be about anything. Then, as quickly as you'd heard it, the gentleness is replaced with apology, letting you know that Elspeth is unavailable, but that you'd be welcome to attend Sir James' funeral. You know you'd never be able to bring yourself to attend.

It's Oliver who reaches out, deliberate, in the months that follow. It's slow going, too formal for how intimately, how messily you knew each other for those few months in the Spring and Summer. He apologises, says he saw you on the cover of a tabloid trailing a pair of aging socialites and looked further into it.

"You looked -" he tells you over dinner in the city, beautiful, settled, no more of his youthful awkwardness; it had only been a few years, but how glad you were to see him, "fucking miserable," he says so gently, taking your face in his hands. Oh fuck, you'd missed him, missed his touch, missed how clearly he could see you - you burst into tears in the restaurant.

Dating Oliver makes you feel like a whole new person, raw, relearning yourself, realising you'd been living like a ghost since you'd left Saltburn. Your hyper competency had needed an outlet and your parents had provided that, but you were barely a person, to them or to yourself. Now you were learning who you were, alone.

Quieter. More focused and driven in your professional endeavours. As dangerously charming as Farleigh ever was. The memory of Venetia peeking through in your wickedly sharp wit. An echo of Felix in the affection you carried with you, in your smile, in your laugh. A living ghost, learning to love and embrace the ways in which you were haunted, rather than grieving for them.

You spend nights in his little flat, take refuge from your own life in his, and Oliver's the one who informs you that Elspeth has moved into town, leaving Saltburn echoing and empty, if not for the skeleton crew that maintains it.

"She wants to see you," there's a strange look in his eyes when he says it, something conflicted, almost dark, but when you smile, he too lights up.

Elspeth holds you for a very long time. In the middle of a cafe in walking distance for your both it turns out, there's tears in her eyes, and a joyful smile, and she doesn't let you go even as Oliver goes and order you all drinks.

"So beautiful, you've always been so beautiful," she murmurs, long, elegant fingers feather light against your features, no care for propriety here, "you're so grown up." It's like she's trying to connect the person you are now with the memory she has of you. Tears are welling in your own eyes.

"I'm sorry I left, mum." There's a lump in your throat and her tears start to fall as she takes your face gently, cradling you against her, laughing through her bittersweet memories.

"I never blamed you, pet, never," she assures, voice wet with tears but reassuring nonetheless. Oliver sits down on your other side, wordlessly leaning into you both, resting his head on your shoulder. The three of you stay like that for a long moment. You can hear Elspeth sniffling quietly.

The moment breaks, she lets you go, and when you sit back up, Oliver takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and resting your joined hands on the table. Immediately Elspeth's eyes focus upon them, and she gives a warm smile to your both.

"I cannot believe you've found each other again," and she sounds so genuinely joyful, "it's funny how the universe works out." Oliver gives a faint, bashful smile, leaning into you, bumping your shoulder for a bit.

"I'm a lucky man," there's something wonderfully, desperately loving in his eyes when he looks at you in this moment. It is, to him, the total and complete truth. Before you're overwhelmed by your urge to kiss him, however, Elspeth continues.

"After all that's happened, I am glad luck, and life, have brought you both back to me; I was just saying to dear Ollie the other day," Elspeth rests her cool, well manicured hand on your free hand, sitting on the table, "the two of you should come stay at Saltburn again."

Something constricts in your throat, grip on Oliver's hand tightening momentarily.

"I know," Elspeth is quick to move her hand to your shoulder, seeing the way your expression changes, drops, "but that house still holds so much love for you, my dear pet," and she takes a deep, shaky breath, finally admitting, "and I can't bring myself to be there alone."

Looking to Oliver, he gives you a gentle smile, nothing but sweet warmth and reassurance; he's changed so much since Saltburn, so sweet, so sublime. That version of Oliver didn't know how to love you or Felix in a way that was good for any of you, you came to realise, but this Oliver, oh this Oliver had crafted himself a home in your heart with love you didn't think anyone other than Felix had been capable of.

"It can be our home again," he murmurs, a sentiment Elspeth echoes like she hadn't even realised that was what she had wanted from you both;

"It can be your home again."

The drive to Saltburn feels like a memory, of young laughter and loud music and Summer sweat whipped away by the wind in Felix's convertible. The car you'd chosen to take with you is far more sensible, but still relatively ostentatious, and when you ask Oliver to drive, he of course obliges you. Still, the music is loud, and the day is warm, and even if the two of you are quiet, there's still a warm hand on your knee.

And you still feel loved.

Saltburn creaks and echoes with familiarity.

The doors open, and though you don't recognise the footmen either side of the entrance, you certainly recognise Duncan. He's older, of course, as are you. There's a touch of grey by his temples, and he's paler than you remember, but still prim, still gaunt and haunting -

"Mister Quick," until his eyes fall on you, and he softens almost imperceptibly, but you see it, you hear it in his voice, "and Captain Y/N," almost like it's an in-joke between you both by now.

"It's good to see you, Duncan," you tell him sincerely, and for the briefest moment he actually smiles.

"And you as well."

Everything's the same, just as Elspeth had assured you both. Everything's the same, just as when you'd left. Fled. Alone all those years ago.

Coming back, hand in hand with Oliver, it feels surreal.

Grand foyer, red staircase, secluded alcove that you and Venetia used to tease Felix about regarding his 'accidental' bout of cousin fingering, Henry Seventh's cabinet, the arch Felix claimed his grandmother haunted, the Green Room, gardens through the windows, Rubens that Felix never cared for but you had always appreciated. Still broken piano. Blue Room; still blue. The King's bedroom, not that you cared for Henry the Eighth, but Felix always liked to bring it up. The long gallery. Portraits of Cattons you had never cared for. Shakespeare's folios that you and Felix had spent a Winter going through, just to brag that you had, without realising how few people would care.

Sir James' teddy was absent from it's usual chair. Something about that makes something ache in your chest, just a little. So you look away, to the maze beyond the windows that you never want to go in again.

You know this house, this route, like the back of your hand even now. Oliver holds your hand tightly as you rest your hand on the intricate doorknob of the midnight blue door that you both remember so well.

"Are you okay?" Oliver's voice is quiet, is reverential, as you hesitate. Nodding once, you push open the door.

It still smells like Felix. His things are still here, still a bit of a mess. Books and knickknacks and photos. His wardrobe door is still ajar, the way you know you left it when you'd been scrambling to pack your own garments when you'd last been here, and his clothes still hang there, frozen, a moment in time.

It aches, but it doesn't... hurt. Not like you thought it would. It almost seems silly, to have this preserved for so long.

"Can we stay in here, Duncan?" You call out, knowing he must be around somewhere, he always was.

"I thought you might," Elspeth's gentle voice from the doorway makes you and Oliver both jump. But she's smiling at you both, and once the shock has worn off, you can't help but laugh. It sets you all off, laughing warmly, fondly, all three in Felix's perfectly untouched room.

Elspeth does, however, let you know that they've had the bathroom redone. She doesn't say it's because of Venetia, but you're quietly grateful nonetheless. You don't know if you could bring yourself to bath in there if all you could think about was Venetia's blood across the bathroom floor. It's different now.

When you try out the new tub, still claw-footed, still deep and soothing, there comes a knock at the door you'd left ajar out of habit.

"Mind if I join you?" It's Oliver, with a teasing little smile and hope in his eyes. He does not wait at the door like you know he once had, he is bold, he is unapologetic, he is confident in his love. Enthusiastically you wave him over, delighted to create new, better memories in this bathroom that no longer resembles the one you know.

There's still this strange kind of divide; Oliver, at times, still acts like a guest. Saltburn's been your home for too long for you to feel uncomfortable within it's walls, but Oliver's still always asking permission. For everything. He asks if he can borrow some of Felix's old clothes and looks relieved when you look at him like it's an absurd request.

"He's not going to be wearing them."

Elspeth gets this look in her eyes whenever she recognises any of Felix's clothes on Oliver, fond and nostalgic as she tells him she's glad they're no longer gathering dust.

"Beautiful clothes for a beautiful boy," she liked to say.

It takes you a few weeks to realise Elspeth's ulterior motives. Her health is failing. She has no family left. She needs people. As Oliver had pointed out so long ago, you were both desperate to be needed. Much like when you were younger, your own parents had no qualms about you living your life at Saltburn without them; they'd hire another assistant. The email they'd sent back to you did however note that you had been the best assistant either of them had ever had. It's the nicest thing they'd ever said to you.

Elspeth speaks to you alone one morning during the fall, the grounds turning all shades of golds and oranges.

"I..." your thoughts are moving too fast, her offer was so simple yet so overwhelming, "can't take Saltburn." A deep sigh escapes her, and she looks out over the grounds, but pets your knee, "I won't leave," you try to placate her, "you, or Saltburn, if you'd like me to stay; I'll be like Duncan -" this gets her to laugh, fond and bright, "but I think it will complicate things with my own family."

She tells you she understands. Her voice is getting weaker by the day. Then, after another long moment of gentle silence and contemplation, she speaks carefully.

"And Oliver?"

Part of you kind of knew this was coming.

"He might love Saltburn more than me," you admitted with a chuckle, "and he loves you dearly, you know that right?"

"He's such a strange, beautiful creature," Elspeth muses fondly, "I don't know if James even looked at me the way he looks at you," she smiles at you, expression turning soft and nostalgic for just a moment, "Felix used to look at you like that, didn't he?"

"In his own way," you agreed, unable to look her in the eyes while knowing exactly what she meant, exactly what she could see in this moment.

"They say we have more than one soulmate in our lives, pet," she says softly, reassuringly, and you look up once more. There's gentle hope and fragments of old grief that wrap around your heart as she continues, giving your knee a faint squeeze, "I think you're one of the lucky ones."

And your mind settles back on Oliver, how good, how kind, how loving he's been in the year since you'd reconnected. Finally, you're able to smile.

"I think so too."

Oliver seems genuinely surprised when you and Elspeth approach him with the offer. He keeps looking at you, confused. All you can do is smile, assure him that you want Saltburn to be in his name.

"I'm not abandoning you," you laugh, "I'll be here as long as you'll have me, help take care of any paperwork or maintenance or, well, calling people to take care of those things."

"They're a good house pet," Elspeth actually teases, while Oliver is still silent, looking at you in awe. He stutters through a verbal agreement, and Elspeth delightedly says she'll get the contract drawn up in the next few days.

"Why me?" Oliver finally asks, and Elspeth stands, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

"You've worked hard all your life, Ollie, I can see that in you," she murmurs, "and you loved the ones so dear to me. I know you will love this home, and my darling Y/N, and one day I know it will be a family home again."

Oliver is quiet during supper, he keeps looking at you with this unreadable expression, almost grateful, but somehow intrigued. There's something lighter about him now, less tension carried in his shoulders, a small smile he can't quite get rid of. After you all eat, he offers you his arm and asks you to stroll the grounds in the moonlight.

"I thought it'd be you," his voice is so soft. The moon makes him glow. He's wearing the pale, linen shirt of Felix's that catches the light so beautifully.

"I could tell," you can't help but smirk, gently ribbing him. When he laughs, it almost sounds disbelieving.

"Saltburn was your home first."

"Saltburn is a place," you tell him, "my home was always the people in it."

"Felix was your home," he remembers when you'd told him that, how wide Felix had smiled when he'd heard it.

"And now," you're surprised by how your voice catches as you realise what you're about to say, "it's you."

"You love me," Oliver turns with wide, adoring eyes, while you can't help your shy smile.

"Of course I love you, you know I love you -"

"You love me-love me," he sounds like he's discovered the meaning of life, like he can see it in your eyes. Then, very suddenly, a whole new realisation seemed to wash over him, "I think I actually want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Oh! Is this -?

"I don't have a ring, fuck-!" Before he can get any further, you're kissing him, wrapping your arms around him, desperate to make him taste how much you fucking love him. Giddy and burning with desire, you feel like a teenager again, overwhelmed with delight and affection in this old house you call a home.

When you suggest that you meet his parents, properly this time, Oliver makes a face like he's bitten a lemon. It's a beautiful, cool mid-morning at the beginning of Winter, grey light reaching through the curtains to caress you and your fiancé, wrapped up in Egyptian cotton sheets.

"I've met them before," you remind him gently, hand splayed out across his chest as he looks at the ceiling, "I don't hold that Summer against you."

"Felix stopped... trusting me," his voice barely breaks a whisper, "he stopped loving me because of them," it trembles, catching, and you see tears in his eyes. A flush was rising up his cheeks, grief and a strange kind of fury overwhelming him it seemed, much to your surprise, "you should hold that Summer against me, should hate me, should -" it's spilling from him now, with such speed, such anger that it's almost frightening.

"Ollie, love -"

"I wasn't in my right mind, I was sick and obsessed and- and- and I can't believe I hurt you like that -"

"What are you talking about?"

Through his tears, his grief, his outburst, Oliver threw his arm over his face, unable to look at you, unable to look at anything in this room he now seemed to regret being in.

"I just wanted him to love me too," Oliver choked out, "I know you tried to help me - I can't believe I hurt you, I know you loved him - but I didn't want him to love anyone if he didn't love me."

"Oliver."

"I put the cocaine in his wine. I gave him the bottle. I left him there."

To your surprise, as much as the news hurts, it comes in a dull wave of grief, not the sharp, stinging kind you were braced for. What you don't expect is the sympathy that wells up inside of you for the man who just admitted to killing your best friend.

But you had spent years grieving for Felix, had come to terms with it, made peace with it. It's a shock to the system, of course, to learn he was murdered, but you can see the hurt, the guilt that Oliver had been carrying with him, and knows how it feels to be overwhelmed with love for Felix Catton to the point where you'd do unspeakable things with him in your heart. You'd ruined lived over one-word insults spat in his direction because that was who you were, that was what you did.

And you knew Oliver Quick, who he was, how he operated, the kind of desperate jealousy and need to be needed that became dangerous or perverse when they went unsated. Neither of you were the people you once were.

Carefully, you drape yourself over Oliver as he wept, wrapping him up tightly in a hug with one arm, other reaching up to brush through his dark, messy hair.

"Loving Felix makes us do terrible things," you murmur softly, fingers carding through his hair, "you took someone special from this world, but we can't change that."

"Why the fuck are you being so nice right now?" Oliver groans, voice full of disbelief, "I just told you -"

"You loved Felix and he stopped loving you back; you were drunk, and obsessive, and out of your mind with some psychosexual desire. You killed the man you loved, that we loved," you recount firmly, and he quiets down, still sniffling, "do you regret it?"

"Yes," he whispers.

"Are you lying?"

A long pause follows.

"I don't know."

"Did you ever stop loving him?"

"I don't think I ever will," then, moving his arm, he reaches out for your face, gently cupping your jaw. His eyes are bright red, smudged tear tracks shining on his cheeks, "I don't think you will either." You shake your head, confirming as much, before you turn your face and press a kiss to his palm.

"You're not that same person, Oliver, neither am I. The version of me from that Summer might never forgive the Ollie that killed Fi, but I know you now, and I know you love me, and you'll love this house, and the memory of Felix, just like I will."

"Why are you so good to me?"

"Because you're not a saint, and you're not a devil. You can't change the past. You're just a human, full of flaws, but you're better than you used to be, I know."

"I love you." He coaxes you forward, bringing you in for a passionate, messy kiss, murmuring against your lips, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Still, you keep this revelation between the two of you. Elspeth never needed to know.

It was a small ceremony at the beginning of Spring on the grounds of the Saltburn Estate. Elspeth was barely able to get out of bed anymore, so the location was more for her sake than anything else. She'd insisted on taking the reigns for planning the wedding though, looking through folders and magazines with you and Oliver at her bedside.

A beautiful flower archway, Duncan officiating, and only your families as guests. At your suggestion and reassurance, Oliver had worked hard to repair his relationship with his family.

"You don't have to lie about being important anymore," you'd smirked at him, "you're inheriting the Saltburn Estate, you're marrying into my family; you're Oliver Quick, that means something."

Oliver's family had marvelled at the estate the minute they arrived at the property; his sisters and their partners seemed shocked and delighted.

"Is this your place?" One had asked you, eyes bright and incredulous as you and Oliver were giving them all the tour.

"Ollie's actually," you give him arm a squeeze as you give him a proud smile, watching as he ducks his head, flush with embarrassment.

"This is you house, Ollie?! What the fuck!?" Another shouted, even as her own partner laughed while asking her to tone it down.

Before the wedding even begins, his oldest sister has talked him into letting she and her children visit in the Summer.

It comes as a surprise when your own parents show up, though you suspect it's because Elspeth personally called to invite them, not because of you. They too are impressed by the house, but less so than the Quicks; they'd been there for gatherings in years past, after all.

When your grandmother arrives, however, that's when it all becomes real for you. Unlike your parents, she dotes on you. Your grandfather had been the head of the business when he'd been alive; your grandmother was a dedicated professional, but always a romantic at heart, which is where your mother claimed to have gotten her artistic proclivities from.

Oliver says you have the same, beautiful eyes, and she chuckles.

"He's a charmer, I see," she teases, but wraps him up in a hug. "You be good to them, Mister Quick," your grandmother tells him in a faux-stern voice as she leans out of the hug, "we're the kind of family you don't want to get on the wrong side of." Despite how she's waving a finger at him and doing her best angry glare, Oliver can't help but cast you a fond smile, wrapping an arm around you.

"I'm aware, ma'am; every day I feel lucky to have Y/N by my side."

This seems to sate your grandmother, who pets his cheek fondly, and tells you that you've got a good one.

"I think so too."

It's a beautiful, perfect day, the best day of your life so far, where the worst day is now but a mere memory. All that matters is Oliver Quick, and the love in his eyes as he looks at you, as he promises you;

"This house will be full of people who love you for the rest of your life."

[jenosbliss]

When He Builds a Snowman ☃️🦌

pairing. gn!reader x jisung | genre. fluff | wc. 651 | warnings. none

“If you’re trying to make Olaf, you’ll need three snowballs for his body,” you said with a yawn, stepping into the backyard and watching Jisung struggle to stack a giant snowball on top of another.

“Three snowballs? What a weird snowman,” he muttered, sighing as he fished out his phone to double-check the picture of Olaf.

“Exactly! That’s why he’s my favorite—he’s unique.” You smiled, but Jisung was already back to work, so focused you weren’t even sure if he’d heard you.

“I’m going to take a bath,” you announced, but he didn’t so much as glance your way. “Hope you’re done by the time I get back!” You sighed, shaking your head, but you couldn’t help the fond smile that spread across your face. Taking one last look at him huddled over his snowy masterpiece, you mumbled to yourself, “He’s the best,” before heading inside.

A few days ago, you’d both been struggling to pick a movie to watch when Frozen popped up. It wasn’t even a debate—you’d hit play immediately. Somewhere in the middle of the movie, when Olaf made his grand entrance, you’d sighed dreamily and mumbled, “Olaf is the best character ever. I love him so much.”

Jisung, who rarely reacted to your random outbursts, had nearly dropped the popcorn. “You love him?” he blurted, clearly scandalized. “An animated snowman?”

You couldn’t stop laughing at the horror on his face. “Yes! He’s cute, funny, and different from every other character,” you said, still giggling.

Jisung had rolled his eyes dramatically but then muttered, “Should I build him as the snowman for Christmas?”

You’d practically shot upright, excitement written all over your face. “Are you serious?”

He just chuckled, shrugging like it was no big deal. “Very much.”

What you hadn’t expected was for him to actually follow through. Yet here he was, working tirelessly since early morning, determined to bring Olaf to life for you.

When you returned to the backyard, wrapped in a cozy sweater, your jaw dropped. “Oh my God! It looks so real!” you shouted, running up to the snowman with childlike excitement. You circled it, inspecting every detail like it was a priceless sculpture.

Building an Olaf snowman had always been a dream of yours, and now it was standing right in front of you, thanks to him. “It’s perfect! Thank you so much, Jisung!” You practically bounced on your toes, adrenaline coursing through you as you leaned in to kiss the side of Olaf’s snowy face.

The cold hit you instantly, and you recoiled, shivering. “Bad idea,” you muttered, wiping your lips.

Jisung, watching this entire scene, crossed his arms and pouted dramatically. “So, Olaf gets a kiss, but the guy who made him doesn’t?”

You smirked at him. “Olaf’s a snowman, and you’re just… a man.” The words slipped out, and you immediately cringed at how ridiculous you sounded.

But Jisung, ever the drama king, gasped and threw himself onto the snow with a flourish. Rolling around like a lunatic, he popped up moments later covered in snowflakes, grinning like a kid. “Okay, now I’m a snowman too. So?” He spread his arms wide, skipping toward you like a dork.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up. “You’re impossible,” you said, grabbing him by the sweater and pulling him close. With a smile, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

When you pulled back, you met his wide-eyed grin. “See? Now that’s how you reward the maker of Olaf,” he teased.

“You’re such an idiot,” you said, shaking your head, though the affection in your tone was unmistakable. “But you’re my idiot.”

“Cringe!” he exclaimed, laughing as he pulled you into another hug.

“Yeah, I know,” you said, groaning with mock embarrassment. “Cringe moment #2.”

But standing there in his arms, snowflakes falling softly around you, you couldn’t imagine a better way to spend Christmas.

tags:: divider created by @cafekitsune 🫶🏻

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

navigation.

[n0vazsq]

Lucky me | Marc Bernal x Reader

pairing . . . marc bernal x gf!reader

summary . . . Doing a tiktok trend with your boyfriend, Marc

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

word count . . . 1.9k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . totally didn't change the trend halfway through!! WHY DID THiS TAKE ME LIKE 6 HRS TO WRITE THE SHIT??? idk i kinda hated it ALSO I DID NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON MY PE TEACHER!!!!! DID NOT!!!!!!

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . "Okay, so we’re doing the trend, yeah?"

Marc looked way too pleased with himself as he sat on your couch, his phone propped against his knee. You were sitting beside him, one leg tucked under the other as you rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time today.

"Yes," you muttered. "But we're doing it the actual way."

Marc snorted, giving you a look that said absolutely not. "You do realize the entire point of the trend is that we don’t listen, and we judge, right? It’s comedy gold. I’ll even act shocked for dramatic effect. Get us an Oscar worthy performance."

"That’s not the point-"

"It is now."

You groaned, flopping against the back of the couch as he smirked, clearly enjoying how worked up you were getting. He leaned toward you with a grin, his face far too close for comfort. "You’re stalling."

"I’m not stalling," you shot back.

"Then say it," he teased, sing songing the words. "Confess your little secret, and let me judge away."

You shot him a glare, narrowing your eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest. "You’re way too excited about this."

"You’re way too nervous." Marc tilted his head, his tone softening just slightly. "What, are you afraid I’ll actually judge you?"

You knew he wouldn’t, not really, but Marc teasing you was always a battle. He was relentless when he had the upper hand, and you could already feel your face warming.

"Fine," you huffed. "Let’s get it over with."

Marc grinned and leaned back, holding up his phone as if he were a director cueing his star actress. "And….action!"

You stared at him flatly before finally sighing and giving in. "We listen-"

Marc interrupted immediately, his voice dropping into an exaggerated serious tone as he mimicked you. "We listen…."

"…but we don’t judge."

Marc’s expression lit up like Christmas morning, and you could already see the teasing words forming on his lips.

"Okay, okay," you said quickly, pointing a finger at him. "Promise you’ll be nice."

"I will not promise that."

"Marc."

"Fine, I’ll try. Go on."

You bit the inside of your cheek before muttering under your breath. "When I was younger, I….I had a crush on my PE teacher."

The room fell silent for a moment as Marc blinked, processing. You dared a glance at him, instantly regretting it when his lips curled into the most dramatic smirk you’d ever seen.

"Oh, this is gold," he breathed, sitting up straighter. "Your PE teacher? You? The most unathletic person I know?"

"Shut up!" you groaned, shoving his shoulder, but Marc was already cackling.

"This is better than I expected," he continued, ignoring your protests. "Did you think he’d, what- teach you how to climb a rope and then sweep you off your feet?”

"I hate you."

"Not true," Marc replied smoothly, his eyes glinting. "You like me a lot, actually. Love me, even."

You picked up a throw pillow, fully intending to smack him with it, but Marc grabbed it first, holding it hostage as he leaned toward you. "Wait, wait….was he at least good-looking?"

You stared at him, speechless. "Are you serious?"

"I’m serious. I need the details now."

You groaned, trying to grab the pillow, but Marc yanked it just out of your reach, laughing. "Stop dodging!" he teased. "Tall? Short? Beard? I’m picturing a really grumpy gym teacher here, by the way. Like the whistle around the neck type."

"You’re the worst person I know. And besides I won't need someone tall when I'm dating a skyscraper," you muttered, face burning.

Marc lowered his voice, leaning closer again as his teasing grin softened into something gentler. "That height thing was unneeded. No, but really, cute little PE teacher crush? That’s actually adorable."

You looked away, muttering, "Don’t make it sound worse than it is."

"I’m not," he said, his tone quieter now. "It’s just funny how you get so worked up over nothing."

"It’s not nothing," you shot back, glaring at him halfheartedly. "You’re a menace."

Marc shrugged, his grin returning as he tossed the pillow aside. "You make it too easy. I can’t not tease you."

"You don’t see me teasing you about your secrets."

"That’s because I’m perfect, and you’d never find anything to tease me about," he replied, brushing his hair away in a dramatic act.

"Oh, please."

Marc laughed, the sound low and warm as he shook his head. "Fine, fine. Go ahead. I’ll give you one shot. What’s my secret?"

You paused, narrowing your eyes. "You cry during rom coms."

His confident expression faltered for half a second before he scoffed. "That’s not even-"

"You do!"

Marc pointed at you accusingly. "Okay, no. You’re deflecting."

"I’m not-"

"Yes, you are. Because you’re still embarrassed about Mr. PE Teacher."

"Marc."

"Yes?" he said in a sweet tone, batting his eyelashes at you.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

You froze for half a second, his words hanging in the air between you. Marc didn’t move, didn’t smirk, didn’t add anything else, just looked at you, his expression unreadable now.

Your pulse quickened, heat creeping up your neck as you opened your mouth to reply. "I-"

Before you could finish, Marc reached out, cupping your face with his hand as he leaned in and kissed you. It was soft at first, gentle, like he was testing the waters, but it was enough to make you completely speechless.

Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat as his thumb brushed lightly against your cheek. For a moment, you didn’t move, frozen under the weight of the kiss and the warmth of his touch.

And then you melted.

Your hands, which had been clutching the couch cushion for dear life, relaxed as you reached up, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. Marc smiled against your lips, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he deepened the kiss just slightly.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your heart racing as you stared at him, wide eyed.

Marc grinned softly, his thumb still tracing lazy circles against your cheek. "That shut you up, didn’t it?"

You blinked at him, your voice barely above a whisper. "You did not just…"

"Oh, I did," he replied, his grin widening as his eyes searched yours. "Worked pretty well, too."

"You’re unbelievable," you muttered, though your voice lacked any hint of annoyance.

Marc tilted his head, his smile softening as he leaned his forehead against yours. "You love it."

You stared at him for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh. "I hate how much I do."

He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his expression turning more serious now, still playful, but softer around the edges. "For what it’s worth," he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "I think your PE teacher had good taste."

You groaned, shoving his chest lightly as Marc laughed, the sound ringing through the room. "You just ruined it!"

"No, I didn’t," he shot back, catching your hand before you could push him again. He laced his fingers with yours, holding your hand in his as he grinned down at you. "Admit it. You’re smiling."

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you completely. "You’re insufferable."

"And yet…." Marc trailed off, giving you a knowing look.

"Yes, yes," you muttered, unable to hide the warmth in your voice. "I still love you."

Marc smiled, leaning in to kiss you again, slower this time, like he wasn’t in any rush. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours once more, his voice low and teasing.

"Lucky me."

Marc didn’t let go, even as the moment stretched on, his fingers still lightly grazing your cheek. He seemed content to just look at you. Like he was trying to process what just happened, or maybe just trying to burn it into his memory.

"You’re quiet," he teased softly, his lips quirking up at one corner. "Did I finally manage to shut you up?"

You blinked, the haze of the kiss still lingering, before narrowing your eyes at him. "Don’t get cocky."

Marc chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline again. "Oh, I’m not. I’m just, how do you say it, impressed."

You swatted at his chest lightly, though it only made him grin wider. "Stop it."

"What? It’s true!" Marc leaned back just enough to give you some space, though his hand still lingered on yours. "I had this whole plan to get you to stop talking, and it worked. Perfectly."

"You didn’t plan that," you shot back, trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing.

He tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. "Maybe not exactly like that, but… I’m not complaining about how it turned out."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. "You’re ridiculous."

"And yet you’re still here," he replied smoothly, his grin softening into something gentler. "Which I’m very grateful for, by the way."

Your teasing retort caught in your throat as his words settled, his sincerity catching you off guard. You felt his thumb trace lightly over the back of your hand again, grounding you.

"I meant it," he murmured, his tone softer now. "Everything I said earlier. You drive me crazy sometimes, but…in the best way. I’d sit through a thousand of those dumb trends with you if it means I get to see you laugh like that."

Your cheeks burned at his confession, and you looked down at your lap, suddenly shy. "Stop making me blush."

"Not a chance," Marc said with a low laugh, his hand gently tilting your chin back up so you’d meet his gaze. "I like it when you blush."

"Why?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, though his eyes stayed impossibly soft. "Because it means I’m doing something right."

Before you could respond, Marc leaned in again, brushing another kiss against your lips. It was brief this time, just a soft, lingering touch that left you breathless all over again. When he pulled back, his smile was wider than ever, his thumb brushing along your cheek one last time.

"You know," he murmured, his voice teasing again, "if you want to keep practicing that trend, I’m happy to keep judging you."

You let out a small laugh, pushing him playfully as he leaned back with a dramatic groan, clutching his chest like you’d wounded him.

"You’re impossible," you said, shaking your head.

"And yet, you’re still here," Marc repeated, his eyes twinkling as he leaned just close enough to brush his forehead against yours. "So what does that say about you, hm?"

You smiled, your cheeks still flushed as you whispered back, "It says I’m just as impossible as you are."

Marc grinned, stealing another quick kiss before finally pulling away completely, though his hand stayed tangled in yours. "Good," he said, his voice low and soft. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

And neither would you.

[measuredingold]

last bit of bff!noah 🫡 i think i’d love to do a proper one-shot one day of bff!noah, but for now, have this ! part one and two here :)

18+ mdni

after your night with noah, you do the most sensible thing you can think of.

you run.

was it stupid? yes, but you weren't sure what else you could do. noah was your best friend. your anchor, you'd call him. he was always there to keep you steady, help you through the dark times and vice versa. sure, had you always felt that something else was there? yeah, but it couldn't mean anything. he was your best friend. that's all this could ever be. all you could ever allow yourself.

so, the next morning you untangled yourself from noah's sleeping form, and ignored the pang in your chest as you gave him one last look before slipping out of his room at 7am.

you thought you were off the hook, sneaking downstairs without making any noise. you were almost free, slipping your shoes on by the door, hand on the door handle, when jolly speaks behind you.

"leaving so soon?"

you jump, hand on your chest as you stare at your other best friend who's giving you a look super similar to one of a disappointed father, leaning against the wall.

"um. yeah. work."

"it's sunday." he brings his cup of coffee to his lips, taking a long sip. "you don't work sunday's."

fuck. "well... um..."

"at least text him sorry for leaving." he pushes himself off the wall and points a finger at you. "i'm giving you 24 hours to figure out your feelings and then i'm coming for your ass."

"you're so mean in the mornings." you're trying to change the subject, but it doesn't work.

"not mean, just care about you. and him." he walks over to you, using his free hand to pat your head gently. "i saw this coming from a mile away. so. 24 hours, then we're talking it out like adults. got it?"

you stare at him, mouth agape and he gives you a gentle, yet sleepy smile. another pat to your head before he's turning away from you, making his way towards the stairs.

"but i don't-"

"ah." he stops you, turning around to hold a hand up. "no excuses. 24 hours. i'll see you tomorrow."

well. so much for running.

you just shut your mouth and give him a nod, trying to ignore the yelling inside your head. he gives you another smile before disappearing upstairs and something settles in your stomach. fear? excitement? both? you don't know, but jolly's words stick with you for the entire drive home.

i saw this coming from a mile away.

you sit on it for hours while you do your usual errands on sunday's - grocery run, laundry, clean up your apartment to get it ready for the next week. you send a text to noah before you even got home, apologizing for leaving so early and that you'll talk to him soon. you leave it at that, not elaborating that you need to sit with the realization that you fucked your best friend. you don't wait for his response, turning your phone off completely and losing yourself in your cleaning.

was it obvious? the feelings you had for noah? was jolly not the only one that caught you staring at him from time to time, noticed the longing in your eyes?

...was noah the same?

it's crazy, right? you and noah? it could never work. your schedules are so... you with a full-time job and him traveling the world for more than half the year. it wouldn't work. it can't work. it's a disaster waiting to happen.

and who's to say noah does feel the same and you guys do try this, that it won't just end in flames? not only did you waste your time on a romantic relationship that can't work, but your relationship with noah would be destroyed. you could never go back to the way things used to be. you'd not only lose him, but that special bond you've never had with anyone else. it wasn't worth it.

you don't remember how many times you bursted into tears, lost count after 5 and stopped caring. it wasn't until later that you remembered you had a phone that you finally turned it back on, watching as messages throughout the day started coming through. work groupchat, jolly sending you a random picture of a dog he probably found on instagram, and noah.

it's okay. i understand.

can i see you tomorrow?

your stomach turns as you look at the message and then the one directly below it, sent only 10 minutes ago.

actually i can't wait until tomorrow

fuck that 24 hour rule

i'll be there in 15

your heart drops as you look at the time, realizing you have about maybe 5 minutes until noah arrives. jolly said 24 hours! you assume he gave noah the same timeframe, which is why he said fuck that 24 hour rule.

your eyes widen at the sound of a knock at your door, stomach twisting so painfully that you think you'll throw up at any second.

he drove way too fast to get here.

you swallowed down the lump that was beginning to form in your throat and slowly made your way towards the door. before opening it you looked down at yourself, frowning. you were in an old baggy shirt, which you soon realized was one of noah's you stole years ago, and some shorts you'd usually wear to bed. god. you've seen better days. you take a long, deep breath before finally opening the door, showing noah on the other side.

"hey."

you assume you look just like him, eyes wide as if you were a deer caught in headlights.

"hi."

it's awkward. fuck.

you step off to the side and awkwardly throw your hand out, letting him know he can come in. he gives you a tight lipped smile as he does. you press your forehead against the door after you've shut it, counting to three before turning around, pressing your back to it. noah's already staring at you.

"do you um. wanna sit?"

"yeah, yeah. we can sit. that's fine."

he seems anxious, just like you, and that makes you feel somewhat better. at least you're not the only one freaking out about this. you both make your way towards the couch and sit at both opposite ends. you pull your legs up under you and noah leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs.

you don't think it's ever been this quiet between you and him, even when you guys had first met. the conversation always seemed to flow between you two but right now... the silence is louder than anything else. you pick at the couch, eyes on your hands because you have to look anywhere but him. it's painful, almost.

he clears his throat. "i'm sorry."

"for what?"

"for last night."

you look at him finally to find him staring at you, lips dipped in a frown. you tilt your head.

"you don't need to apologize? you gave me an out, i didn't take it. i wanted it."

"but not for the same reasons as me. you were drunk." he groans, rubbing a hand down his face.

"not that drunk. i remember everything, and was very conscious of my decision. i wanted it."

"i wasn't that drunk either but i... i used the alcohol as an excuse to like. i don't know. move forward with my own selfish feelings?" another groan. "i don't know how to word this, but what i did was selfish. and i'm sorry."

"selfish feelings?"

you're not understanding him. you don't know what he means and what he could've been selfish about. he looks at you again and his stare is so... you don't know what it is but it has your breath hitching, stomach tying in knots because he's never looked at you like that.

at least whenever you've been looking.

"the way i feel about you." his voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, and he gives you a sad smile. "i took advantage of the situation. used alcohol as my excuse to be selfish and act on something that i've been wanting for a really long time."

is he saying...

"you... wanted to sleep with me?"

he laughs, but it's weak. "well. like. yes? but that's not all i wanted..."

his words trail off and you watch him look away, but catch sight of his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

oh shit. this is not happening right now. he glances at you before dipping his head down again, his flush only deepening. shit. okay. alright. if you're understanding this correctly, he wanted to sleep with you. but that wasn't the only thing he wanted, so that must mean...

"i can hear you thinking from all the way over here." he laughs again and finally looks at you. "whatever it is you're thinking - yes."

"fuck." you don't mean to say it out loud but it slips anyways and your own cheeks heat up.

"yeah, fuck." he snorts, sinking against the couch.

"noah-"

"i know, i know. we're just friends. you don't see me that way. i know, and i understand, but i just. i had to let you know." he looks at you again, another sad smile tugging at his lips. "especially after last night. i'd never be able to live with myself if i hadn't told you."

you're stunned to silence. you don't know what to do, what to even say, so you just stare at noah with parted lips and wide eyes.

well, first of all. noah has some kind of feelings for you? enough to make him want to sleep with you and to... confess? you're not sure if this is even a confession, but it sure as hell sounds like one. whatever those feelings may be there and they're for you and that's... a lot to try and process.

second of all, he thinks you don't feel the same. part of you wants to agree, say yes, you're just friends and put this behind you. the what if of pursuing this and then ending in flames eats away at the back of your mind, almost like a warning. but... another part of you wants to tell him you feel the same. have always felt the same.

"i'm sorry if this is a lot to dump on you, i just couldn't wait until tomorrow. jolly tried to stop me but. he couldn't." he gives a shrug of his shoulders before focusing on his hands messing with the strings of his hoodie. "...we can act like it never happened, if you want. i'm cool with whatever, i just needed-"

"that's not what i want."

your words fall from you without much thought, and your brain is screaming at you to take them back but your heart... it's squeezing beneath your chest, warmth spreading throughout you as your tummy erupts in butterflies. noah looks up, eyes wide and shock written all over his face.

"huh?"

"i don't want to act like it never happened." you say again, much louder. "i don't- i can't act like it never happened. even if i wanted to."

he blinks. "what...?"

"jesus. do you really think i'd sleep with my best friend without some type of lingering feelings?" you throw your hands in the air. "you don't see me sleeping with jolly!"

"you could." he says weakly. you laugh.

"sure, but i don't want to." your voice softens, gazing at him from the opposite end of the couch. "however, i wanted to with you."

something flashes behind his eyes and you watch as a smile slowly tugs at his lips. "so, are you saying..."

"jesus fucking christ, noah. do i have to spell it out for you?" he nods, smile only growing. fucking brat. "i like you. and i have for a long fucking time, okay? there."

"why didn't you say anything?"

"i don't know. the fear of losing you?" his gaze softens, smile slowly fading. "why didn't you?"

"same thing."

the mutual understanding of your situation has your stomach turning again. knowing that noah had probably gone through the same inner turmoil as you was... comforting, almost. but also made you a little sad because you know how your thoughts were this entire time. you can only imagine what he was going through, especially this morning when he woke to find you not there.

you don't say anything for a while. still stuck on the thoughts of noah understanding how you felt and how you both went through this alone, when this whole time you could've gone through it together. and also stuck on the thought of what's next? you don't know what to say, don't know what to do, and you finally look up to find noah staring at you, a smile gracing his lips again.

"this doesn't change anything," he says softly. "you're still my best friend."

"and you're still mine." you pause. "just with... benefits?"

"benefits?" you roll your eyes playfully at the smirk he gives you, wiggling his eyebrows.

"you know what i mean."

the smirk slowly fades into a smile, a lot softer than before. he reaches a hand out to you, fingers moving in a "come here" motion.

"c'mere."

you blush and then scoot closer to him, gasping softly when you feel his hands on you. he pulls you onto his lap with ease, your legs resting on either side of him. it's silly to feel... embarrassed about this, being so intimate with him on your couch, especially after last night, but you can't help the way your entire body heats up at being in his position with him.

"hi."

he's so close now, all you need to do is tip your head forward and your lips would be on his again. you really hadn't stopped thinking about it since last night. you watch as his eyes drop from yours and down to your lips, and watch them drag back up your face. you watch the ends of his lips quirk up.

"not getting shy on me now, are you?"

aaaaand there he is. your best friend. your noah. your chest warms at the thought. you roll your eyes but the faint blush on your cheeks definitely gives you away, trying to nonchalantly wrap your arms around his neck.

"shut up."

"make me."

you move before you can even think of it, lips pressing to his with such force it leaves you both just a little bit breathless. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you closer to him as your lips mouth together, and then you pull away. you stare down at him and notice that now he's the one with flushed cheeks, his eyes wide with parted, wet lips.

"well." he clears his throat, squeezing your hips gently. "that's... one way of doing it."

something beneath your chest squeezes and you card a hand through his hair, giggling softly. "who's getting shy now?"

his blush only deepens and he rolls his eyes, mumbling "shut up" before his eyes widen again. you raise a brow at him, lips pulling into a teasing grin.

you say his words back to him, "make me."

he stares at you for a moment, eyes still wide before they soften. you feel him relax beneath you, and a hand that was on your hip trails up your back to the back of your neck, bringing your face back down to his.

"gladly."

[keyotos]

i'm yours tonight

summary ⎯ late nights w/ dan heng. inspired by my sleepover hcs.

tana's words ⎯ having HELLA dan heng brainrot rn. also i'm getting through everyone's requests ASAP!! i just wrote this bc im having major writers block rn.

tags ⎯ fluff. unestablished relationship but the feels are there. oblivious idiot (you). reading together (real).

"psst. dan heng, are you awake?" you whispered. you were crouching down next to him on the floor, head circling his figure as you tried to find out if he was awake or not. it was the early hours of the morning and you felt slightly guilty for waking him up.

"now i am," dan heng shuffled around until he faced you. "what is it?"

"i can't sleep," you laughed dryly, "again. do you have a book i could borrow?" you stood up. dan heng wanted to pull you down by your hand so you could be back on his level. he reached out slightly and then shot his hand down.

dan heng stumbled out of his floor mattress. charming, he thought to himself. he moved towards his bookshelf as you followed him. you stood so close to dan heng that he started feeling goosebumps on his neck; the warmth of your breath making him shiver.

"what are you in the mood for today?" dan heng asked as he started browsing his shelf.

"anything, really," you sighed. "something boring? i've been having trouble sleeping for the past few days," you rubbed a hand over your temples.

"have you been alright?" dan heng swiftly turned to face you, all thoughts about the book forgotten.

"yeah," you rubbed your eyes, "i've been fine. you don't have to worry about me," you beamed through your drowsiness.

i always worry about you, he wanted to say.

"dictionary?" dan heng pulled out the book, emphasizing its thickness.

"words. perfect," you wiggled your eyebrows. you grabbed the book and flipped through a few pages. it's condition was pristine, as always.

"thanks, dan heng," you looked at the book and then looked back up to him, "hopefully i'll be able to sleep soon," you held onto the book tighter. for some reason, you wanted to stay in this room; stay with dan heng.

dan heng parted his lips, in awe of how you still look gorgeous even when you're exhausted, "no problem," he gulped, "if you need another way to sleep faster, i know a good herbal tea recipe."

"i might have to take you up on that offer one time," you smirked, "if you hear three knocks on your door, just know it's me."

dan heng laughed, "noted."

you waved goodbye and started walking out the door. you intentionally started walking slower than usual, in hopes dan heng would offer you tea right now. you didn't feel like going back to sleep, especially going back to sleep alone.

you stopped in your tracks. dan heng didn't move; he examined you, wondering if you forgot something or not.

"is it okay if i stay in here?" you turn back around, walking slightly closer to him, "i don't feel like falling asleep alone tonight."

dan heng raised his eyebrows in shock, facial expression slightly contorted, "i⎯uh. are you sure?"

hearing his reaction made you want to shrivel into your body. his confused tone made you worry, "um. yeah," you looked down at the floor, "unless you don't want me here. that's fine!" you looked back up at dan heng.

dan heng blushed at your disconcerted state, "no. you're welcome to stay if you'd like," you're welcome to stay all the time, "but my bed is uncomfortable. do you really want to stay in the archives?" he raised his eyebrows as a way to affirm your answer.

"oh!" your entire figure stood up, "i'll stay wherever you are, to be honest," you had no idea of the affect one sentence had on dan heng. while he was trying to hide his blush, you continued, "but if your bed is a problem, we'll just stay in my room."

"are you sure⎯" dan heng was cut off.

"yes," you vigorously nodded your head. "why else would i offer?" you wrapped your arm around his neck, "okay! let's move!"

dan heng keep rubbing his neck on the way to your room. when did it get so hot? luckily for him, he felt his warmth drain when he reached your room. it was freezing: definitely below (at least) 67 degrees. and then he noticed the heap of blankets lying on your bed, which explained so much.

"make yourself at home!" you waved your arms around, as if you were showing a grand prize. you flopped onto the bed and proceeded to wrap yourself in the blankets.

dan heng, on the other hand, chose to lay on top of the covers for two reasons. the first reason being, if he had gotten under the covers with you, he feared that he'd be too flustered to even face you. the second reason was he may burn up.

"are you gonna get under here?" you asked, shuffling around your mountain of blankets, "it gets really cold at night."

"i'll be fine. don't worry about me," he shrugged. as he tried to light the lamp on your nightstand, you grabbed his hand before he could turn it on.

"quoting me now?" you teased.

"i⎯" he paused. "i assure you, yn. i'll be fine," trying to hide his gaze from your eyes. your hand on his feels so blissful. your grip, so light and calming.

"and i assure you," you hold on tighter, "you're gonna be cold tonight. like, freezing. i saw your body react to when we came in here. you were about to shiver," you recognized his body language? "don't be stubborn. c'mon."

hesitantly, dan heng made his way under the covers. he could feel you next to him, your body radiating heat the blankets could not. unknowingly, he gravitated towards you, so much so that the two of you were touching knees.

"feel better now?"

"slightly, yes."

"you do," you dragged on the syllables in a sing-song way. you opened up the dictionary and began to read inside your head. well, struggling to read. it was dark and you insisted to not turn on the lights (it disrupts REM sleep, you said).

"give me that," dan heng grabbed the book out of your hands. though you try to protest, he holds the book out of your grasp.

while you try to reach for it, you end up sprawling yourself all over dan heng's body. at some point, you went from simply pressing your chest up against his to practically straddling him.

dan heng tried to take his mind off of your position; he focused on keeping the dictionary out of your hands. it was fun, teasing you. if his arm was standing in one place it would've been easier to reach, however, dan heng possessed a sense of agility you knew nothing of until tonight.

when you exhausted yourself in your efforts, you crashed down on top of dan heng. for someone who was (apparently) adept on dan heng's body language, you didn't notice how his chest was rising unevenly, how is breaths were more shallow and hitched. you concluded that his warmth occured from how many blankets were on top of him, and not the fact that you were practically centimeters away from his lips.

"how else am i supposed to sleep if i can't read," you mumbled in his ear, too worn out to talk at a normal volume.

dan heng tilted his face away from yours, scared that something would happen if he had gotten too close, "i'll read for you."

this time, you hauled yourself off of dan heng's body, now opting for leaning into his side, "how? you can't read in the dark either?" you leaned your head on your hand so you could look at dan heng. dan heng was grateful for the dark, otherwise, if not for the dark, you'd be able to see how red he was in the moment.

"i actually can," he opened the book, flipping through the pages to find the most boring words. you shook your head in disbelief; there was no way he could actually read in the dark (he could).

you shuffled through the blankets once more, trying to find the cold spot on the bed. the cold spot was nice, but it wasn't satisfactory, for you could not hear the sounds of dan heng's voice. so you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder yet again.

"quintessence: the most perfect or typical example of a quality or class," dan heng read out. you found that his voice started lulling you to sleep already.

"do you think people just make these words up and they just appear in the dictionary?" you slur out, consciousness slowly fading away.

dan heng softly chuckled, "maybe," he flipped through more pages, "tintinnabulation: a ringing or tinkling sound."

you laughed into his bicep, "are you sure you're not the person making these words up?"

dan heng wanted to sear your laughter into his skin, "i'm not. are you about to sleep yet?"

"i'm sleeping now," you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, "mimimimi⎯"

dan heng delicately smacked the dictionary on your face, "sleep," he stressed. when you moved yourself closer to dan heng, he couldn't help but pull you slightly closer. maybe it was the facade of exhaustion donning on him, or maybe it was because he wanted you closer.

as he felt your breathing slow and listened to you get less chatty, he knew you fell asleep. he set the dictionary aside and tilted his head down to look at you. how could one look so enchanting while sleeping? he carefully stroked your eyebrow, an endearment he used only for you, and pulled you closer into him.

when you two woke up in the morning, none of you dared to discuss how you were practically entangled and intertwined together.

bonus:

"i think that was the best sleep i've ever gotten," you laid on dan heng's shoulder. "your voice put me to sleep."

dan heng, trying to avoid even closer contact, "so are you saying my voice bores you?" he teases.

"what!?" you take your head off of his shoulder. though dan heng avoided the encounter, he wished for your head to come back down; he missed how his heart began to race with you near.

"no! your voice is just⎯ really peaceful. and calming. and nice," you try to explain yourself. when you see a slight smirk threatening to show on his face, you scowled. "it's too early for this," you playfully shoved him away from you, missing his smile on the way.

[the-tartan-spartan]

OOC POST

Here's a little behind the scenes so you guys have a better idea of what's going down! One shot below the cut, enjoy!!

Blu Demoman x Blu engineer

_________

Caz took a deep breath as he knocked on the workshop, the sounds of machinery stopped abruptly and he heard shuffling.

"Who is it?"

Dallas' voice rang through the workshop door and Caz regretted he hadn't drank this morning. He wasn't sure he could do this without some liquid courage. "Jus' me lad. I'm sober as a judge, I promise ye." Caz responded and the door opened slightly, Dallas standing in the doorway looking wary. "What do you want, Caz?" He asked, looking at the Scotsman and then behind him to the empty hallway.

"I jus' wanna talk. I promise I'm not drunk." Caz assured, but Dallas hadn't stepped aside. "An' talk about what, exactly? That you're sorry, for outing me to the whole fuckin' world? That you're sorry my own family disowned me cuz' of your big mouth? That you're sorry-" "I was scared," he interrupted, his voice strained.

"It donnae excuse me poor actions or the fact that I jus' dinnae think about how ye feel- I was selfish an' scared an' I took it out on ye." Caz admitted, and Dallas had gone quiet, looking away and crossing his arms. "An' I'm so sorry fer it. I cannae apologize enough for it." Caz continued and Dallas took a shaky breath.

"Why are you here, Caz?" He asked softly, still not meeting his eyes. "I... I need ta tell ye." But the words caught in his throat like sandpaper to concrete. "Tell me what?" He finally looked up, his face unreadable.

"I.."

I care for ye, lad.

Ye mean everythin' to me.

Please forgive me.

I cannae live without ye.

Ye mean more ta me than anythin'.

Ye are everythin' ta me.

I'm scared.

I don't know what to do.

I love you.

"I'm...sorry." Caz stuttered and Dallas frowned. "You already told me that, I get it, you're sorry for outing me, that's it. I don't want to talk about it. Go away, please." He started to close the door and Caz's panic spiked, reaching out and putting his foot between the door and frame. "Och, tha's nae what I meant! Let me explain-"

"There's nothing to explain, Caz. What more is there to say?"

"I loved ye since before ye ever looked twice my way, an' I'd be a doon right edjit tae ruin tha' over something I'm scared of." He blurted and the words hung heavy in the air. Dallas stared at him, his grip on the door loosening as the words processed. A deep sigh came from the shorter man as he knocked his head against the wooden frame a few times with a soft thump.

"Caz I....Cameron," he started and Caz's heart dropped to his stomach. "I don't know if I can just let go of all the shit you've put me through." Caz nodded, a lump forming in his throat as he felt a sharp sting in his nose, his tounge became thick in his throat, and his eyes burned.

He didn't know why, he really didn't, but the thought of losing Dallas, the one thing that was worth anything to him was just too much to bear. Still, he listened. "But lovin' you scared the shit out of me. And it fuckin' hurts. So much."

A tear rolled down Caz's cheek as his chest began to hurt. It felt like someone had reached into his chest and crushed his heart. "Dal-" "Please, leave me alone, Cameron. Please. I can't do this right now. Not with you." Dallas had his eyes closed and Caz nodded, moving his foot as the door clicked shut. He just stared at the wood, his mind reeling.

Caz was quiet, and he could see Dallas' face screw up in the attempt to hold back his tears. He always was a bit of a crybaby, that tended to be that way with Mama's boys. "I'm tired. I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of hiding, I'm tired of pretending." Dallas's voice cracked, and he was full on crying now, trying and failing to hide his sobs.

"An' you of of all people should know how that feels, Cameron."

Caz stood there, trying to calm his racing heart, the words replaying in his head, and he was left feeling lost, numb. Like he was walking in a haze. He turned, not entirely sure where he was going, and started down the hall.

[eomayas]

D appointment • kji (pt. 1)

part two can be found here.

pairing: jongin x f!reader, fwb relationship

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!! bit of fluff if you close one eye and tilt your head

synopsis: reader leaves her friends for a last minute dick appointment with a hot man

warnings: p in v, riding, against wall, facial (kinda), oral (f receiving) multiple orgasms, cocky/sweet/mean/teasing jongin! mentions of alcohol, but no drunkenness

jongin: u busy?

you smirk at your phone and down the shot sitting in front of you. “excuse me, ladies, but duty calls,” you say to your four friends, standing up and grabbing your bag off of the back of your chair.

“no! we’ve barely done shots!” your friend sana protests, grabbing onto your hands.

you stick out your bottom lip. “sorry, bae, but i really have to go,” you say, trying to pull away.

“for the what? to do what?” she questions, frowning up at you.

you can only smirk. “jongin,” you say, booping her on the nose and then pulling yourself out of her grasp. you know it’s fucked up to leave your closest friends for a dick appointment, but worse things could definitely happen, and they have to understand—it’s not just any dick, its dick that has you walking funny the next morning. “so sorry to leave like this, but dick awaits.” you say, blowing kisses to your friends before leaving the bar, their groans and sounds of disapproval be damned.

you stand on the side of the building and call an uber that arrives quickly. you hop in the back and reply to jongins message, your nails flying over the screen.

y/n: be there in 10

the entire uber ride, you check you appearance and reapply your lipgloss. it’s not that you needed to look good for jongin, but you wanted to. and to admit, you were nervous—you were always nervous every time you met jongin, even though it was multiple times a week and you’d done thing more than ten times so far. you meet him mostly at night, sometimes during the day, never in the morning, but always after 12pm. but you still managed to get jittery beforehand.

the uber pulls up to his apartment building, and you thank them and get out. you attempt to pull down your tiny poster girl dress, but it just slides back up as you walk over to the door and buzz his apartment. “y/n, is that you?” his voice asks through the intercom.

“yes. let me in, it’s cold,” you say, but there’s barely a breeze. the buzzer pops and you quickly enter the building and make your way to the elevator. the ride is quick, him only living on the third floor, and the walk is even shorter.

you knock and a few seconds later, he answers the door, in a white tank top, jeans, and hat. “hi,” you say, giving him a quick hug as you walk in.

“you look nice—what do you want to call this? is this a dress?” he asks, loosely holding your hand as his eyes roam over your figure.

“mhm,” you say, looking up at him. he licks his lips and raises his eyebrows.

“you always dress like this when you go out? or is this just for me?” he asks mockingly and your roll your eyes, spinning around on your toes to look at him. he can’t help but drop his gaze to your chest, where three giant cut outs expose your chest and the fact that you’re not wearing a bra.

“does it matter?” you ask, gently pushing his chin upwards. jongin looks you in the eye and nudges you against the all before dropping to his knees in front of you.

“guess not,” he says, pushing your dress up so it bunches around your waist. you sigh and mold your back against the wall, butterflies of anticipation in your stomach as he presses his fingers against your core, the material sticking to you for a bit. jongin wastes no time helping you out of them before dragging two fingers through your slit, and then pushing them inside you.

you sigh and brace yourself against the wall, looking down at him and biting your bottom lip. before you know it, his fingers are replaced with his mouth and you gasp, throwing a hand over your mouth and tilting your head back.

jongin licks and sucks, pressing his tongue into your hole. you drop the hand from your mouth push his hat off, tangling your hands in his hair. you pull at his roots, moaning out his name. you make the mistake of looking down at him, seeing as he’s already looking up at you, his eyes wide. your mouth falls open and you can feel him smirk against you. “j-jongin,” you pant, putting a leg on his shoulder.

he flicks his tongue against your clit and your vision goes spotty for a second. jongin feels your body tense and continues his ministrations, adding his fingers to the mix to push you over the edge. but he doesn’t let you get all of the way there, pulling away when your vision starts to blur just the way you like, and your legs feel weak.

it’s rude, and you gasp in horror. “fuck you! i was close!” you cry, your eyes never leaving him as he stands up and unzips his pants. you frustratedly put your hand between your legs, trying to get yourself off but you know that it’s not going to work since he’s already been down there, and it’s his and his mouth that you want.

“were you?” he asks, removing your hand from in between your legs and turning you around, pressing you into the wall. you close your eyes and put an arch in your back, waiting for him to push himself in. because he’s sweet, he doesn’t waste your time and pushes himself in with a grunt.

“oh, jongin!” you mewl, meeting his thrusts as he rocks his hips into you. he grips your hips tightly, giving himself more leverage with fucking into you.

“best pussy i’ve ever had, fuck,” he groans into your ear, slipping a hand between to the front of you to rub at your clit. you arch your back deeper at his words, reveling in the feeling of his hips slapping against your backside. the curve in his dick his that spot nicely, and has you seeing stars. “shit, y/n.” he says, rubbing on your clit faster.

he pounds into you, your cheek smooshing against the wall. your mouth is permanently dropped open, only sound you emit being breathy moans and his name. you lift one of your legs, that earlier feeling coming back into the pit of your stomach. jongin catches your leg, holding it up and widening his stance so he can get you back to the place he rudely took away from you.

“jongin, please, i’m c-close!” you beg, your chest heaving up and down as you feel yourself getting closer and closer. he’s nice, always has been to you, so he speeds up his thrusts. “shit, shit!” you cry out, that euphoric feeling washing over you as you release onto him.

“that’s right,” he grunts, still pounding into you, holding you securely around the waist with one arm while the other gropes your chest. “cum all over this dick, y/n. it’s yours.” jongin kisses your neck, his thrusts getting shallower as he feels himself getting closer. you shake in his grasp, the feeling too much, and you’re grateful when he pulls out and cums on your ass, his voice low as he curses.

“is your face okay?” he asks when you both take a moment to catch your breath. you face him and he turns the cheek that was pressed against the wall towards him. it’s red, but it doesn’t look like any real damage was done. “does it hurt?” he asks, dragging his finger tips across it lightly.

you shake your head and pull him close to you. “good. sorry ‘bout it,” he says, giving your cheek a kiss and then pressing one on your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck and let your mini make out session last a bit longer.

but jongins hard member rests heavily against your thigh, and you still have enough energy for another round. so he puts his hands underneath your ass and hoists you up, sliding into you easily. his strength and frame are contradicting. he’s skinny, as are his arms, so when you met him and agreed to start fooling around, you weren’t sure about wall sex, or even riding him, the fear of being dropped or hurting him too prevalent, until one night he told you stop bullshitting and showed you how much a skinny guy could do.

“fuck, jongin, you feel so good!” you hold onto his shoulders, grabbing at the hair at the nape of his neck. he concentrates on fucking you deep, his stamina decreasing quicker than he really intended. you can tell, so you say, “is that all you got?” yanking at his hair.

jongin looks up at you with a face that says i’m giving you EVERYTHING, but slides you down the wall and starts driving his hips upward, hitting that perfect spot again and making you scream out his name. “this enough for you?” he grunts, his hands holding onto you right enough to leave marks. “fuck, y/n. i need you to come.” he groans, licking his lips and squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to hold himself back from coming before you.

you push his hair out of his eyes and rub on your swollen clit with your fingers. it doesn’t take much, between your rubbing and his thrusting, to make you reach your climax, it springing on you quicker than you had anticipated. it’s not as intense as the first, but you can’t feel your legs.

jongin quickly sets you down and you fall to your knees, your legs too weak to hold you up at the moment. “open,” he says, his dick in front of his face as he pumps his hand up and down.

you do as asked, your mouth wide open and ready to take whatever he gives you. ropes of his cum land on your tongue and you keep your mouth open until he’s done. you swallow, keeping your eyes on him, and he breathes heavily as he watches you. jongin never made you swallow, and didn’t feel any type of way when you spit the first time you gave him head. but ever since the first time you swallowed his cum, he’s found a new kink for it. he likes watching you do it, it turns him on every time.

jongin helps you up onto shaky legs, one of his hands on the small of your back. “i’m not done with you yet,” he says, looking down into your eyes.

“i’m tired!” you whine, holding onto him. he shrugs and you pout, hoping it’ll change his mind.

“nah, you were talking shit to me. it’s your turn to prove yourself, ms. ‘is that all you got?’,” he says, slapping your ass. you only frown up at him and he gives you a shit eating grin. “let me see your foot.” he says, and you lift your leg up, holding onto him tightly as you wobble standing on one foot.

he puts your leg on his knee and unbuckles your heels for you. it’s weirdly intimate, and you ignore the pang in your heart as he gently pulls off your shoes, holding onto your ankle delicately. “thank you,” you say, wiggling your toes.

jongin nods and pull you close to him by the ass. he looks down into your eyes, and you feel like exposed under his gaze so you quickly close the distance between you and slide s hand up the back of his tank top. “you’re not getting out of this,” he mumbles against you, pulling away to raise an eyebrow at you.

“my legs hurt,” you say as he walks you backwards to the living room.

“aw,” he says, not a hint of sincerity in his voice. while he was sweet, he can still get competitive (and mean). jongin takes a seat on the couch and beckons you toward him, spreading his legs wide and holding onto the base of his dick.

you sigh and pull your dress off the rest of the way, and let it fall to the floor. you ignore jongins piercing gaze as his eyes roam over your naked body, and lower yourself onto his lap. you lift your hips up so you can slide him in, and your lips part as you take him from this angle.

letting out a breath, you sink lower onto him, holding onto his shoulders for support. “you’re moving awfully slow,” he says, pulling your hair.

“shut up,” you say, starting to move up and down on him. he rolls his eyes and laces his hands behind his head, looking at you lazily. “take this off.” you whine, pulling at his tank top. he obliges, and you rest your hands on his bare chest as you start to pick up the pace.

but your legs start to burn as quickly as you start, and after a few minutes, you’re practically just sitting on him, your chest pressed against his. “that’s all you got for me? you dont like me anymore?” he asks, holding you by the neck.

you shake your head. “my legs hurt!” you complain, grinding down on him. it only feels good for you, and you both know it, so he lets you do it for awhile longer before he gets tired.

“and you had the nerve to talk shit to me, but you can’t even ride me for longer than a minute,” he says, thrusting up into you harshly. you curse and try to match his pace with your own hips, but he quickly shuts that down. “you just sit there and let me take care of you.” he grunts, basically granting you to be a pillow princess for the rest of the night.

jongin keeps true to his word and manually bounces you on him, and soon you’re both cumming for the third time tonight. he proves to be officially worn out when even his arms can’t hold you much longer, and he melts into the couch.

you kiss his cheek before pulling yourself off of him, and grab your dress. you pull it on and walk down the hall to retrieve your underwear and the rest of his clothes. “you want me to drive you home?” he asks when you hand him his bottoms.

“please?” you ask, pulling on your underwear. you can’t help but collapse onto the couch, your body exhausted.

he looks down at you as he stands up to pull on his jeans, his eyebrows furrowed. “why are you resting when i did all the work?” he asks. you flip him off and he smiles.

“shut up, you didn’t even do much,” you lie. he scoffs and shakes his head at you.

“oh jongin, jongin, fuck me jongin!” he mocks, imitating how he thinks you sound.

you roll your eyes, but your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “you can make fun of me all you want, but i’m the best pussy you’ve ever had,” you say, standing up from the couch and pointedly looking him in the eye.

jongin doesn’t argue or deny you statement, just smiles to himself and watches you as you put on your heels. you can feel his eyes on you, so you don’t turn around when you ask him if he’s ready to drop you off.

he grabs his keys and jacket and you two exit his apartment. jongin wraps an arm around your waist, surprising you. “you look like bambi right now,” he says, glancing down at you.

all you can do is blush and lean into him, enjoying his embrace. you guys make it down to the lobby after a short elevator ride, and go out to the parking garage to get into his BMW.

the drive is short, and you guys make small talk the entire time. he pulls up in front of your condo quicker than you thought, and you unbuckle your seatbelt.

you open the door, ready to get out, but he stops you. “come here,” he says, pulling you back to him. you’re confused, and become even more shocked when he plants a goodnight kiss on your lips. you guys rarely kiss outside of hooking up, and when you part ways, it’s just a goodbye hug, or nothing but words.

pulling back, you’re a bit stunned but find the words to say goodnight, and your legs to let you out. you expect him to drive away when you step out of the car, but instead he waits for you to unlock your door, and honks once, as if to say goodbye, before he speeds off.

he’s just full of surprises.

[hiemaldesirae]

LOOL YES!! That's what you get Alastor!! Cursed cat!Alastor adores Vox and would never hurt him. Honestly it'd be hilarious if Vox does an interview that night and the entire hotel (plus Lucifer) catches it and Cursed cat!Alastor is on Vox's shoulders just purring away and happily nuzzling Vox's screen and being happily petted and Alastor is gripping his fixed staff, grinding his fangs, jealousy leaking from him.

Charlie is pleased: "Alastor, I knew you could find that cat a good home! Thank you! =D"

Everyone else is fucking shocked. They know Alastor threw that cat at the Vees for entertainment and hell raising purposes (and in Husk's case, a way to try and get Vox to come back to him. Most of Alastor's schemes involving the Vees always, always revolve about getting Vox back.)

The interview is about a new product of Voxtech, but at the end of it, they ask about Vox's new pet and Vox just puffs up, proud as can be:

Vox: "This little demon just charged into the lobby, brutally attacking my staff! 2 or 3 died, I think 4 or 5 were maimed so I of course had to keep him! Isn't that right, Venom? (Cause Vox thought he had rabies....and he foams at the mouth when he attacks...so...and the V theme.) Isn't he precious?"

*sir is fine, for future reference. but YEAH, alastor would definitely be seething with rage- like whole fucking cartoon ass face too, he's NOT having the time of his life rn. why the FUCK was vox petting that hellspawn???? that should've been HIM ???????????

also venom is a perfect name for that little shit, honestly, though ill be fr i can only think of the. You know. Venom.

anyway whatever here's another writing snip. (vv short because i have morning classes tmw and im going to freak if im late again) you guys are greedy asf but whatever ill provide like any good father would

"Oh, dear... and he *kept* it, is that right?" Rosie gasps as she watches Alastor grip his hair tightly, head cradled in his hands. She giggles as she continues teasing the poor demon, "My, Alastor, isn't he quite the catch? Compassionate and caring to boot, not to mention that he seems to be *quite* popular among the denizens of Hell!"

"Rosie, my dear, please. Stop talking. For the love of God, stop talking," Alastor's ears flatten more as he begs his friend, Rosie merely laughing softly in delight as she watches.

"You can hardly blame me for being curious, Alastor! I mean, you always refused to take your sweet little picture box to Cannibal Town when the two of you were still talking... why, I had to learn of your dalliance through Mimzy! And, not to devalue my beloved's qualities, of course, but she's *hardly* the greatest source of information one can find-- I married her out of love, not for her communication skills."

"That *thing* probably has rabies," Alastor spits out, looking as if he'd just swallowed a particularly bitter pill. "I don't *understand* what he sees in it!"

"Well, it does look quite like you," Rosie points out leisurely. She takes a sip out of her teacup before continuing, "Perhaps he's treating it as a substitute for you? You know, in the way that some would treat their plushs like pets, he's treating his pet as... well, you."

Alastor narrows his eyes at her. "Vox *knows* that if he wanted to talk to me, he could easily just go over and tune into our shared frequencies. He's *replacing* me with it, Rosie, I just know it!"

"Hm... well, in that case, why don't you just go and make it clear to him that you aren't replacable?" Rosie taps the edge of her cup with a knowing glint in her abyssal black eyes, holding her good friend's gaze steadily. "You've never shyed away from confrontation before, have you, Alastor? Why be hesitant now?"

Alastor licked his lips, staring down in his lap before he picked up his own teacup and downed the liquid inside like a shot.

"Thank you for hosting me today, Rosie. I think... I've reached a conclusion."

A knowing smirk crosses the Cannibal Overlord's face. "Of course you have. I expect to be formally introduced to your lovely little muse soon, you understand?"

"Yes, my fair lady," Alastor rolls his eyes with amusement. "But you had better not try and take a bite of him."

"Who, little old me? I'd never, dear!"

"You had better not," Alastor frowns. Though his tone is joking, his expression falls flat.

Elsewhere, in the Entertainment District, Vox sneezes into Venom's fur as he cradles the fluffball of red fur. The freaky kitten turns to look up at him with a questioning look, but he only ruffles Venom's ears apologetically.

"Sorry, Ven. I don't know what came over me just now- oh, look at this! Should we get you this collar, or that one...?"

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

15. Maknae Down

Note: the anon person who requested this scene, show urself cuz this is for u👍

Masterlist here

(Damn she is ded)

It started with a loud, echoing sneeze—a sharp, drawn-out sound that filled the entire dorm and was immediately followed by a groan of frustration. Y/n looked up from his spot on the couch, where he had been lazily scrolling through his phone, and saw Ningning curled up under a massive blanket on the other side of the room. Her hair was messy, and her eyes were red from what he could only assume was a cold.

Guess the cold decided to transfer from Y/n to Ningning today.

“Ning,” he called out, watching as she struggled to get comfortable in her blanket cocoon. “You good?”

“No,” she sniffled dramatically. “I think I’m dying.”

He raised an eyebrow, getting up to walk over to her. “Dying? Really? From a cold?”

Ningning glared up at him, her face flushed from fever, her nose runny, and tissues piled up next to her. “Yes, really! You wouldn’t understand. It feels like my entire body is shutting down.”

Y/n rolled his eyes, half-amused as he pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Let me guess—you left the window open last night?”

Ningning’s eyes widened in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Girl, you always do that when it’s too hot,” Y/n sighed. “But Ning, it’s winter. Having the window open while the fan’s on full blast? Genius.”

Ningning groaned, burying her face in the blanket. “It was fine until I fell asleep, and then when I woke up… well, I felt like this. I swear the weather’s out to get me.”

“Well, congratulations,” Y/n chuckled, mocking her with a single clap. “You’ve officially caught a cold.”

“Wow, thank you, Jung Y/n-psssssss” Ningning blew her nose.

“I know you love me too much, tryna copy me when I was sick last time”

Before Ningning could retort, Karina, Winter, and Giselle entered the living room, dressed and ready for their schedules. Karina took one look at Ningning’s disheveled state and sighed. “You’re staying in today, aren’t you?”

Ningning nodded miserably. “Yeah… you guys go on without me, unnie.”

Giselle, clearly annoyed, huffed, “Great, we’ll be the ones running around while you sit here like a burrito all day.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing,” Ningning shot back, trying to maintain her usual sass, but her voice was too nasally to come off intimidating.

Winter leaned down, placing a hand on Ningning’s forehead. “You do feel warm. Stay put and rest, okay? Don’t make our idiot's life more difficult than it already is.”

Y/n snorted. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered. You guys go handle idol life. Minji-noona is downstairs.”

Karina glanced between the two of them, clearly unconvinced. “Alright, but if she gets any worse, call us. And make sure she doesn’t convince you to do anything ridiculous.”

“I make no promises, mom” Y/n joked, giving them a half-hearted salute as they waved goodbye and headed out the door.

Once the apartment was quiet again, Y/n turned to Ningning, who was now staring at the TV screen in front of them. He grabbed the remote and lazily flipped through the channels. “So, what now? Want to binge-watch some K-dramas or something?”

Ningning perked up slightly at the suggestion, her eyes lighting up for the first time since this morning. “Yes! You haven’t watched ‘True Beauty’, right?”

Y/n groaned. “Oh, c’mon. Isn’t that one of those sappy romance dramas? I thought you were more into action stuff.”

Ningning pouted, crossing her arms. “I AM into action stuff, but ‘True Beauty’ is ICONIC, okay? Besides, you need to catch up on your K-drama knowledge, oppa.”

“Can’t we watch something else? Like “Space Sweeper” or something?”

“No!” Ningning shouted, the sickness momentarily left her. “I’m sick today, so I rule!”

With a dramatic sigh, Y/n flipped to the streaming service and put on the first episode. “Fine, but I’m only doing this because you’re sick. You owe me.”

“Deal,” she mumbled, snuggling deeper into the blanket. “But I’m warning you, you’ll get addicted. Don’t say I didn’t tell you.”

As the first episode played, Ningning provided commentary for every dramatic moment. Y/n, despite his earlier protests, found himself getting a little too invested in the story. By the third episode, he was sitting up straight, eyes glued to the screen, reacting alongside Ningning to every twist and turn.

“See? I told you it’s good!” Ningning giggled, nudging him with her elbow. “You’re hooked, aren’t you?”

“Okay, fine,” Y/n admitted, his face scrunched up. “It’s better than I expected. But seriously, how do they make every scene so intense?”

“That’s K-drama magic,” Ningning replied, sniffling again as she wiped her nose. After a beat, her voice softened. “It’s kind of nice… watching these with someone.”

Y/n glanced at her, sensing the sudden shift in her mood. “Yeah, it’s fun. We don’t get much downtime to just hang out like this.”

Ningning hummed in agreement, staring at the screen with a distant look. “I miss it sometimes, you know? Just being at home, watching shows with my mom. I’ve been away for so long… sometimes it hits me harder than I think it will.”

Y/n’s chest tightened at her words. He’d always known that the idols dealt with homesickness, but hearing it so plainly from Ningning made it feel more real. He hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on her head, ruffling her hair gently.

“I get it,” he said quietly. “While I can't say that I'm the same as you, I can say that you got your second family here, right? Your unnie-dul, me… maybe?"

"Of course you are in there!" Ningning groaned, her usual annoyed yet adorable tone began to recover.

"Aight, aight…but we got your back, Ning-ah."

Ningning smiled, her eyes glassy but grateful. “Yeah, you guys make it a lot easier. Especially when you let me make you binge-watch K-dramas.”

“That's Y/n's package for you,” Y/n chuckled, trying to lighten the mood again. “I’m just here for moral support and terrible TV commentary.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the soft glow of the TV flickering across their faces. Eventually, Ningning shifted, resting her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

“You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be,” she murmured sleepily.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Y/n replied with a small grin. "You're more fun to hang out than I thought."

Just as Ningning started to drift off, the front door opened, and the other members trudged back into the dorm, looking tired but relieved to be home. They paused when they saw Ningning and Y/n on the couch, Ningning now fully passed out, her head still resting against his shoulder.

“Looks like the patient’s finally knocked out,” Winter whispered with a smirk.

Y/n gave a thumbs up. “Mission cleared. Though I’m not sure who’s more tired—me or her.”

Karina grinned, walking over and gently draping an extra blanket over Ningning. “Thanks for looking after her. I knew we could count on you.”

“No problem,” Y/n said, feeling the weight of the day finally catch up to him. “Let’s hope she’s better tomorrow.”

As they quietly gathered around, the dorm filled with the familiar warmth of friendship. Even though Ningning had caught a cold, it felt like one of those rare moments where everything was just… okay.

-

A few days had passed since Ningning's cold turned the dorm into a temporary clinic. She was back to her usual self—energetic, mischievous, and constantly teasing the other members. Y/n was glad to see her better, though he missed the quiet moments they had shared while binge-watching ‘True Beauty’.

It was a Saturday morning when Ningning barged into Y/n's room, her signature grin plastered across her face. She clapped her hands together excitedly, bouncing on her toes. “Y/n-oppa! Get up, get dressed! We’re going out!”

Y/n, still half-asleep and wrapped in his blanket like a burrito, blinked up at her in confusion. “Huh? Where are we going?”

“Just get ready!” she said, pulling the blanket off him with a mischievous tug. “It’s a surprise. You did a lot for me when I was sick, so I’m treating you today!”

Y/n groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Ning, it’s too early for surprises. Can’t we just chill?”

“Nope!” she insisted, practically dragging him out of bed. “You’ll thank me later. Now hurry up or I’ll pick out your outfit for you.”

That was enough to get Y/n moving. The last time Ningning had chosen his clothes, he ended up in a neon green jacket and pants combo that made him look like a human highlighter. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.

“Are you paying for everything?”

“That’s right, I’m your sugar mommy for today, oppa!”

Y/n facepalmed. “Ning, please never repeat that again.”

-

As they left the dorm, Ningning pulled out her phone and snapped a quick selfie of them both, sending it straight to the group chat.

Ningning:

Taking Y/n out for a day of fun! Wish us luck, ladies 😉.

Within seconds, the responses started flooding in.

Winter:

Oh boy, this ought to be good. Don’t kill him, Ning!

Giselle:

I’m keeping track of this. Take lots of photos.

Karina:

Stay out of trouble, you two.

Ningning giggled, stuffing her phone back into her pocket. “Let the adventure begin!”

-

A little over an hour later, they were out the door and wandering through one of the city’s many bustling shopping districts. Ningning was in full tour guide mode, pointing out random shops, food stalls, and people as they walked.

“First stop,” she declared with a grin, “the arcade!”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the neon lights and the sound of beeping machines. “You dragged me out of bed for video games?”

“Yup,” Ningning said proudly. “Consider it payback for watching ‘True Beauty’ with me while I was half-dead. Besides, I know you secretly love this stuff.”

She quickly pulled out her phone again, snapping a picture of Y/n standing in front of the arcade and sending it to the group chat.

Ningning:

First stop: arcade. Y/n thinks he’s gonna beat me at these games. He’s so cute when he’s wrong.

Y/n peeked over her shoulder, groaning. “You’re sending updates to the others?”

“Of course!” Ningning laughed. “How else are they going to keep track of your inevitable losses?”

"Oh don't test me, Yizhuo." Y/n rolled up his sleeves.

With those words, the two of them spent hours bouncing from game to game. Ningning was surprisingly skilled at racing games, and Y/n couldn't stop himself from getting competitive during skee-ball.

At one point, Ningning managed to win a stuffed animal from a claw machine, rubbing it in Y/n's face with exaggerated pride.

“Beginner’s luck,” Y/n muttered, trying (and failing) to win his own prize.

“Sure, sure,” Ningning teased, snapping a photo of him concentrating hard on the claw machine. She sent it to the group chat with the caption:

Ningning:

Y/n’s face when he loses... again.

Winter:

LOL, poor idiot. How many tries is that now?

Karina:

He’s got that determined look... Go easy on him, Ning.

-

After a few more games and much teasing, they decided to take a break at a nearby café inside the arcade. Ningning pulled out her phone once more, sending a final picture of Y/n with a pile of stuffed animals they had won (mostly Ningning’s doing).

Ningning:

Look at our haul! Aren’t we the best team ever?

Winter:

Nice! But you sure it wasn’t all your work, Ning?

Karina:

I see a lot of plushies there. Are you guys going to share?

Y/n shook his head, laughing as he sipped his drink. “You really enjoy teasing me, don’t you?”

Ningning smiled sweetly. “Only because you’re so easy to tease.”

“…all I know is that Jeong will annoy me like you do right now when we get home.”

Ningning grinned slyly. “Oh, speaking of Minjeong-unnie…”

Y/n shot her a wary look. “What about that crybaby?”

���Well,” Ningning said, her voice dripping with mischief, “she’s been acting a bit... different lately, don’t you think?”

Y/n furrowed his brows, trying to play it off casually. “What do you mean by ‘different’?”

Ningning stopped at a snack stall, buying them both some skewered tteokbokki, and turned to Y/n with a teasing grin. “Oh, come on! You know what I’m talking about. Ever since we teased her about setting you up on a date, she’s been a little... defensive.”

Y/n nearly choked on his tteokbokki. “Defensive? No way. She's just—”

Ningning interrupted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Face it, Y/n-oppa. She got jealous.”

“Jealous?” Y/n scoffed, though the thought made his stomach flip in a way he wasn’t ready to admit. “That girl is not the jealous type. She’s just... stupid.”

“Sure, sure,” Ningning said, clearly enjoying his reaction. “Keep telling yourself that. But the way she’s been acting lately? I think someone might have a little crush on our dear manager.”

Y/n rolled his eyes, trying to shake off the teasing. “Aish, you’re binging too much K-drama now.”

“Am I though?” Ningning smirked, taking another bite of her snack. “Because if you ask me, she’s got a soft spot for you. You should’ve seen her face the other day when you went to the gym without her.”

Y/n felt a heat rising to his cheeks that had nothing to do with the spicy tteokbokki. “That’s because we’re all friends. We hang out. It’s normal.”

“Mhmm,” Ningning hummed in that infuriatingly knowing way of hers. “Whatever you say. Let's go back and beat you again."

"Tsk. I'll win everything on this second set. Ms. Yizhuo." Y/n flared up.

-

After the massive win from Ningning, the youngest dragged Y/n to a few more places—a dessert café where they shared a massive bowl of patbingsu, a photo booth where they took ridiculous selfies, and even a random bookstore where Ningning insisted on picking out a K-drama guidebook as a joke.

Y/n had to admit, it was fun. It felt like a proper break from the usual hectic schedules and responsibilities. Although the constant update to their group chat felt like a child updating his mom about his whereabouts.

As the afternoon wore on, they finally made their way to the park, where Ningning collapsed onto a bench, fanning herself dramatically. “I think we’ve officially walked the entire city. How are you not tired?”

Y/n chuckled, leaning back on the bench beside her. “I was tired when you dragged me out of bed this morning. Now I’m just used to it.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Y/n glanced over at Ningning, who was unusually quiet.

“You okay?” he asked, noticing the thoughtful expression on her face.

Ningning nodded slowly, but her usual brightness had dimmed. “Yeah, just... I guess I’m feeling a little homesick again. It comes and goes, you know?”

Y/n felt a pang of sympathy. He knew how hard it was for the girls (especially Ningning and Giselle) to be away from their families, especially with their demanding schedules. “I get it. It’s tough. But we're here for you.”

Ningning smiled softly, her eyes a little misty. “Yeah, I know. You guys are the best. But sometimes I miss the little things—like my mom’s cooking or just lounging around at home, not having to worry about schedules and performances.”

Y/n nodded. “I think everyone misses home sometimes. It doesn’t go away, but I guess that’s what makes coming back to it even better when you do.”

“…it’s weird that you do make sense from time to time.”

“I am not that big of an idiot.” Y/n nudged. “But if you miss your mom’s cooking, ask her the recipe of any dish and I’ll try to learn it.”

“Really?” Ningning’s hope went off the roof. “Is that ok?”

“Mhm” Y/n patted her head. “I am your manager, at least, and I’ll be your brother, at most.”

Ningning leaned her head on Y/n’s shoulder, her voice small. “Thanks, Y/n-oppa. For everything. Today was fun.”

He smiled, resting his head against hers. "…this will DEFINITELY be on Dispatch tomorrow."

"Aish, shush it. I'm tired, oppa" Ningning accepted that she will never escape from Y/n's annoying retort.

Y/n chuckled. “Anytime, Ning. You deserve it.”

They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the quiet moment as the city buzzed around them. Eventually, Ningning perked up again, a mischievous glint back in her eyes.

“Oh, and by the way,” she said with a smirk, “don’t think I’ve forgotten about Mindoogie. You know she’s going to be extra nosy when we get back, right?”

Y/n groaned. “Can we not?”

“Nope,” Ningning giggled, standing up and stretching. “It’s too much fun watching you squirm.”

As they made their way back to the dorm, Y/n couldn't help but wonder if Ningning had a point about Winter. The thought lingered in his mind, but for now, he was just happy that Ningning was back to her usual self. And if teasing him about Winter made her day a little better, then he could live with that—for now.

[ripdragonbeans]

Not Him, I Swear // modern!Aegon II x Reader // Part 2

Summary: Aegon goes through with his promise to ask you out.

CW: afab reader, profanity, eventual smut, Aegon being an ass, oh but he has feelings??????

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

You woke up the next morning to a quiet room. Normally when you'd stay the night at the sibling’s apartment Helaena soft snoring would full her bedroom as well as Aegon’s loud snoring filling the entire apartment itself. You figured Helaena and Jace stayed with whoever they ended up with or at the frat house, too exhausted to come back. Unlike how they probably felt, you were fairly well rested, if not a little shaken from the encounter with Jason but a little happy with your walk with Aegon.

Aegon. You were slightly surprised that he wasn't here at his own apartment but he never really came over here anyway. He spent most of his time at the frat house.

Sitting up, you stretched your arms high and took a deep breath, ready to take on the day. Despite the small amount of partying you did, though it was really just having one drink, you felt good. You felt even better when you saw you had a text from Aegon.

Morning kitten :) lunch at 1?

You smiled at the messagage. Even after last night you never really expected Aegon to go through with his offer. Yet here you were, blushing and smiling over his text.

See you at 1 <3

The heart at the end seemed a little risky but it was one you were more than willing to make. Almost as soon as you sent it Aegon replied with his own little heart.

You looked at the time. Ten in the morning. Only three more hours.

“Now that was a party,” claimed Helaena. She was sprawled out on the couch with a happily dazed look that's been there since she arrived.

“It sure was.” You let out a breath. “I actually, um, found someone there.”

Helaena's eyes shot to yours immediately as she scooted closer to you on the couch.

“Tell. Me. More.”

You rubbed the wrist that Jason grabbed last night. “It wasn't exactly a good thing but it wasn't bad, either.”

Helaena looked at you expectantly.

“Jason saw me.”

Helaena went into protective mode. “If that fucker hurt you, I swear -”

“He didn't! Or at least he didn't get a chance to. Someone helped me out.”

“And are you going to tell me who this person is?” She dragged out the last word.

You looked at the ground when you murmured his name. “Aegon.”

Helaena blinked in surprise. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Aegon,” you repeated. “It was Aegon who helped me. He stopped Jason from grabbing me -”

“JASON GRABBED YOU?”

“Yes! Now let me continue, please!”

Helaena huffed but nodded at you to continue.

“He stopped Jason from grabbing me and pretended that he was my boyfriend so Jason would leave me alone. I went along with it and even kissed him on the cheek to sell it.”

“You kissed my brother’s cheek to get Jason to leave you alone?” she scrunched her nose in disgust.

“Yeah, and it worked because guys only back off when another guy is involved.”

“Ugh, men.”

For a while you and Helaena sat in silence, each doing your own thing on your phones, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Oh, and he asked me out,” you whispered quickly.

Helaena’s head shot up. “I'm sorry, what?”

“He asked me out,” you mumbled.

“I hear what you're saying but I don't believe it. My brother doesn't just ask someone out after they've said no multiple times.”

You rolled your eyes. “He almost didn't if that makes you feel better.”

“No, that's not what I meant, you know - ugh - just keep going.”

“After he walked me here -”

“He walked you here and didn't try to get into your pants?”

“Hey, he was being respectful,” you countered.

Helaena scoffed at the thought of that.

“Anyway, he asked me out after he walked me here.” You decided to leave out Aegon saying he would protect you.

“Hm. Okay.” Helaena’s eyes sharpened into slits as she looked at you, contemplating everything that she just learned. “Just…be careful okay? I'm assuming you already accepted the date. He can be an ass and I don't want you to get hurt again.”

“I don't think I will.” You smiled and didn't fight the blush that was creeping up your neck.

“Got her,” Aegon announced when he came downstairs.

Cregan shut his eyes tight and covered his ears. “Shhh, quiet. You're too loud.”

“I'm not too loud, you're hungover. Saw you making out with Helaena’s friend. How’d that go?”

“Great, it went great.” Cregan was still covering his face.

“I have a game plan,” Aegon started. “it's easy, all I have to do is get her to fall in love with me, then bam, she's in my bed and I win.”

“Win? What's there to win? We never made a bet.”

“Let's make a bet now, then. Give me two weeks with her and she'll be begging for me.”

“I bet you're gonna fuck it all up and get smacked by either her or Helaena.” Cregan removed his hands from his head and opened his eyes. “You can't keep up an act for that long.”

“All part of the bet.” Aegon smiled to himself.

You would be his best story, the girl who hid herself away only to open up to him.

Down to forty five minutes left and your nerves still haven't gone away. If anything, they've gotten worse.

“Maybe I should cancel, Hel,” you said as you paced back and forth in her room.

Helaena continued reading her book but offered her two cents. “As much as I'd love for you to cancel, purely because it's Aegon and I honestly don't trust him all that much and I'll wring his neck if he hurts you,” she sighed, "you deserve to go on at least one date that makes you happy.”

You looked at your friend with pure love, no one else would protect you like this. She would always be at your side.

“Thank you, Hel,” you smiled. “Will you, um, help me figure out what I'm gonna wear. It's a lunch date and I don't know what the plan is.” You blushed at the lack of knowledge.

“Knowing Aegon it'll probably be something ridiculous.” She opened up the closet and shuffled around your side. You were there so often you have a second closet at this apartment. “How about this?”

Helaena raised up a pair of ripped jeans and a black top. “You can pair it with your boots and that dark corduroy jacket! Casual but still able to move while looking super cute!”

You walked to Helaena and reached out to the outfit. “Absolutely perfect, Hel.”

Right at you finished dressing there was a knock at the door.

“Hey, Hel, is my girl with you?” Aegon called.

“Yeah! And she's not your girl yet so calm down. She's putting on the finishing touches!” Helaena turned back to you and held your hands. “Are you ready for this?”

You took in a deep breath. “As ready as I'll ever be,” you smiled at her.

She gave your hands one squeeze before letting go and opening up the door.

Aegon stood there in his usual graphic T-shirt and faded black jeans with a lopsided grin on his face.

“We ready to go?” He asked you.

“Yes, all ready.”

“Hold up!” Helaena interjected. “You,” looking at Aegon, “better not fuck her up. I'm glad you stopped Jason from doing whatever but I will still end you if you hurt her.”

“Relax, sis, I have this all under control.” He stepped around her and held out his hand.

For a beat you simply stared at him and his outstretched hand. This was it. The plunge into the pool. Taking a rattled breath, you took his hand and he led you out to the front door.

“I'll promise I'll text you when we get to wherever!” You yelled back at Helaena.

And off you two went.

A small café was the choice for lunch. Aegon swore up and down it was the best place for a cozy afternoon.

“Didn't think you to be the chilled out first date kind of guy,” you joked as you sat down.

Aegon ran a hand through his hair. “You're actually the first girl I've taken out on a date in a few years.” He chuckled. “Because, you know, we just usually fuck and nothing happens and - shit, sorry probably shouldn't talk about that.”

“I know your past, Aeg. That's why I'm surprised about this.”

“After the frat party I wanted to reach out.”

“Well, thank you for that,” you smiled.

The two of you drank your coffees in a comfortable silence. Gazing out the window you thought about what the future would hold if Aemond asked you to be his girlfriend. You saw yourself as happy, happy again. You refused for something like the relationship with Jason to happen again. Never.

Out of the corner of your eye you caught Aegon staring at you.

“What is it?” You gave him a shy smile.

Aegon continued to stare at you, amazed at your beauty and the simple ease he felt when he was around you. He brushed off that ease as his confidence in the bet.

“It's nothing, don't worry. I just…” he trailed off.

“It's just?”

“I'm lucky to be here with you. Jason never deserved you.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

Blush crept up your face and you bowed your head in embarrassment.

“That's really sweet, Aeg.”

He cocked his head. “You don't believe it?”

“I mean - it’s just. It's complicated.” You didn't want to spill your soul to him. At least not yet. You quickly changed the subject. “I've been really wanting to check out this art museum. Wanna go tomorrow? I'll pay the entry price since you paid for today.”

A smile kicked up on the edges of his mouth. “Yeah, sure. I'm not really a museum guy but I'll give it a shot if it means spending time with you.”

You laughed. It sounded like music to Aegon but he shook it off.

Standing up, he offered you his hand. “Shall we head back to the humble dwelling place?” He said in a mock fancy voice.

You took his hand and curtsied. “Why, yes, my dear.”

The two of you laughed as you left the cafe and headed back.

A few blocks into the walk Aegon pulled you under a large oak. “I figured since the apartment would probably be a little crowded we could stop by here for a bit.” He held your waist and cupped your face as he slowly leaned down. He brought his lips to your ear and whispered, “may I kiss you?”

The question sent a bolt of excitement through your body.

“Such a gentleman,” you joked. “Kiss me, Aegon.”

He closed the small gap between you two with a gentle kiss. His arm snaked around your waist and pulled you close. A small sound made its way out of you and he smiled against you. He deepened the kiss, his tongue running against yours for permission. You gladly opened up for him. The feeling of him inside you brought a wave of pleasure. You wanted more, gods you wanted so much more, but you knew you had to stop.

Begrudgingly, you pulled yourself away from Aegon.

“As much as I'd love to continue this, I want to take it slow.” Out of embarrassment you avoided looking him in the eye. “Last time I let myself get caught up in the rush of it all and it ended painfully. I don't want to do that again.”

Aegon tilted your head up by the chin. “I can do that. It's all on your call.”

“Thank you, Aeg.” Pulling him down from the nape if his neck you pressed your forehead against his.

Aegon should've been happy with his date with you but it only worried him. There was a small tinge of guilt in the back of his head. He wasn't supposed to be falling for you but it seemed his descent had begun.

[diazheartsbuckley]

Hi, as someone who discovered her first grey hair a couple months ago and had a crisis about it, I'm interested in Eddie discovering his first grey hair pretty please

Hi there!

Omg I did this a while ago and it was going to be a one shot (probably still can be as it’s not finished)

Here is a snippet of it 💕

Once they finished, Eddie went into the bathroom again to style his hair and he combed it through before running his fingers through it too. He then began to style with it with a little bit of gel and as he turned his head, he had to do a double take.

That better not be what I think it is.

He tried to brush it away with his fingertips, thinking, no, hoping that it was just conditioner that hadn’t been washed out properly. When nothing happened, he placed his hands on the sides of the sink as a sign of defeat. It was barely visible, not one, not two, not three, but four grey strands mixed in with the dark brown.

Has no one else seen them? No, if they had, they would’ve said something. They wouldn’t have left it alone.

Yet he couldn’t help but to wonder.

“Chris? Will you come in here for a second?” He called out, stopped dead in his tracks. No, it wasn’t a big deal. It’s just hair and he knew that for some people even getting to have grey hair is a privilege. That didn’t mean that it didn’t take him by surprise.

“Yeah, dad?” Chris questioned as he soon stood in the doorway.

“You see these too, right?” Eddie pointed to the side of his head where he had discovered the four, small grey strands of hair.

“You have grey hair” His son laughed and put his hand on top of his. Eddie couldn’t help but to laugh a little himself too and eventually pulled his head away from Chris’ touch.

“Not a word to anyone about this. Not even Buck, okay?” Eddie said pointedly at Christopher who just agreed with a big smile on his face.

Buck is going to know within seconds the next time I see him.

The entire evening that he spent at his Tia Pepa’s house, he kept touching the side of his head and smiling awkwardly every time that he got caught doing it. It felt ridiculous but so did getting grey hairs at 35. His dad didn’t even start to get grey hairs before he was in his early 50s and he knew that their life and stress levels couldn’t exactly compare but it still made him feel self aware. It was only a few strands now but he also knew that they would only keep on coming.

When they came back home, they sat on the couch and watched a movie until Christopher fell asleep with his head in Eddie’s lap. In the middle of the night, Eddie woke up with Christopher still sleeping on him and he ended up carrying him to bed before heading off to sleep too. But he was sat on the edge of the bed and he took out his phone, brought it to the side of his head and took a picture of his grey hair strands. He didn’t know why. Maybe to document it, maybe to prove to himself that he wasn’t actually hallucinating or maybe to find some acceptance in it.

He spent the following day at home with Chris and when Carla came to pick him up Monday morning, he realized that it had already been two full days since he noticed something new about himself.

“Dad has grey hair!” Was the first thing out of Christopher’s mouth as he opened the door for Carla.

“Your dad has what now?” She said, a smile lightening up on her face.

And there we have it.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing” Eddie shot Christopher a look but it wasn’t anger. It was a mix of embarrassment and a slight bit of annoyance.

“I’m pretty sure I heard your son say that you have grey hair” Carla stated as she went to the kitchen counter to pick up some of Christopher’s things as he put on his shoes.

“I mean… yes. I do. It’s just a few strands. Really, it’s not a big deal” Eddie said, trying to sound convincing.

“Whatever you say, honey” Carla smiled at Eddie and put on her hand on Christopher’s shoulder as they were heading out of the door.

This one also goes out to @wikiangela 💋

Ask me about my wips 💗

Using this as my WIP Wednesday 🫢

This is really a raw draft that I did a while ago but the idea just came alive then

Tagged by the amazing @daffi-990 💋

Tagging!! @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @jesuisici33 @callmenewbie @cal-daisies-and-briars @watchyourbuck @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @butraura @honestlydarkprincess @fionaswhvre @disasterbuckdiaz 🫶🏻

[skzcollision]

churchboy!felix x afab!reader (6/7)

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genre: fluff, smut, teen angst

synopsis: certain expectations come with being a pastor’s daughter. in everyone’s eyes you are a properly behaved girl, albeit rather timid. according to your parents, you aren’t as devoted to the church as you should be. they entrust you to an old family friend’s son, deeming him to be a good influence. these circumstances bring you two closer together and stir up all kinds of emotions.

MINORS DNI

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Fear has caught up to you now.

Your resolve to leave that life behind had blinded you initially. Every single morning, feeling as though you were waking up in somebody else’s house, despite those four walls being the ones you grew up in. The people who raised you, complete strangers. Your entire life planned ahead of you, and you having no say in it.

It made sense to want to leave, it made sense to want to try.

But the reality of it all is finally sinking in. You are out on your own for the first time in forever. This is the situation you have thrust yourself in, and you either commit to it—or you choke.

That first night, after your falling out with your mother, Felix drives you into the city. He holds your hand, tells you everything is going to be okay, and even that is not enough to calm your turmoil.

His sister is kind enough to let you stay with her in the meantime before the semester starts and you move into your dorm.

“Here,” he pushes into the bedroom, carrying a pile of clothes. “Some extra… stuff.” He chews on his bottom lip with worry at your blank expression.

“Thanks,” you reply quietly, making a feeble attempt to smile.

It does nothing to quell him. He rushes to your side and gently pulls you into his arms, fingers lazily scratching at your scalp as you lean against his chest. “We’ll go back, when they’re– when it’s safe. And then we’ll grab your things.”

You nod wordlessly. A shiver runs through your body, still shaken and recovering from crying nearly the entire way there, and he hugs you tighter.

“Are you– you’re staying, right?” Your blood-shot eyes settle on Felix’s face, shadowed and lined with concern.

“Yes,” he nods vigorously. “Of course, I’m staying.” With a kiss to your forehead, he whispers, “I’m never leaving your side, remember?”

You lie together, just like you always have—warm bodies pressed against one another, leaving no space in between. He kisses your face, grazes his fingers along your arm, until both of you slip into your slumbers.

Felix does not pry nor does he expect you to talk about it at all. You try to make things go back to normal—and they do, somewhat, on a surface level.

Both of you fall back into your playful dynamic, and even adjust swimmingly to your temporary living arrangement. But neither of you can deny the shift in the air or the upset beneath your facade.

You are as physically close as can be, and yet you have never felt so far away. Separated by a barrier that wasn’t there before, the distance growing bigger and bigger, and him, powerless to stop it.

Even so, he plans to keep this up until you are ready to fully open up to him.

“Do you need help?”

You shake your head no, pulling on the tab to open the car door. “I’m not gonna grab everything.”

“Alright, give me a call if you need anything.”

It’s dim and cool when you enter the house. Even though you and Felix made sure to come by at a time when your parents would be at work, you immediately race up the stairs to your room, filled with a sense of urgency.

Everything is exactly where you left them, save for the fresh batch of laundry in the basket. You get to work, stuffing those clothes into a duffel bag and any other personal belongings—you never owned much to begin with. You also sneak into your father’s bureau, collecting any important documents you may need to present to the school’s administration.

Once you are certain you haven’t missed anything, you quietly make your way back down.

That is when you notice someone is sleeping on the sofa in the living room.

It’s your mother. She is deep in her slumber, you can tell by the way her mouth hangs ajar. A cold compress rests on her forehead. She must have called in sick from work. Sometimes she would get these really bad migraines.

The creaking of the old wooden floors don’t concern you as your mother has always been a heavy sleeper. You pad over to her, staring upon her sleeping face. You always thought that she looked the most peaceful when unconscious.

Although you can’t help but notice how perturbed she looks now; a scowl on her face, thin lips pulled tight and brows drawn together. She looks older than when you last saw her, and two weeks haven’t passed yet.

A sudden wave of anger rushes through you. Here you are worrying about her, when she hasn’t even bothered to check with you since then.

You wanted to believe that your parents still loved you, even if it was in their own sick and twisted way—but after everything that you’ve been through, you know that’s not the case.

“All I ever wanted from you was–“ You hiccup a sob, cheeks glistening with tears. “Was for you to just be my mom,” you bristle, voice trembling at her unmoving face.

It is as pointless as talking to a brick wall. She doesn’t hear you, and she never will. You furiously swipe at your face with the back of your arm, sniffling.

You take a moment to collect yourself before heading back to Felix’s car.

“That’s everything?”

You nod, clicking in your seatbelt. “Hey, do your parents know about, um– all of this?”

He gazes toward the familiar street. “Well they do know that something happened, and that we’re both staying with my sister.”

“And they’re okay with it? They’re okay with me?”

Your parents may be a lost cause, but you still want Felix’s to think positively of you.

“Yeah, yeah, they’re fine. They’re not, uh–“

“They’re not like my parents.”

He pauses, pursing his lips. “That’s… not what I was going to say. I meant like, hardcore or– or you know, like really strict.”

“And that’s exactly what my parents are,” you speak through a hollow laugh. Hands playing with the straps of your bag, you avert your gaze. “I see you with them, and your siblings… and I want that too. Always have.”

Your eyes drift back to him when his fingers come up to stroke your hair, a gloomy look in his stare. It is not the type that makes you feel pitied or pathetic. Something even worse plummets to the pit of your stomach.

Felix is deeply unhappy. You see it in his eyes—those beautiful, brown eyes that once sparkled every time you looked into them, now surrounded by darkness from lack of sleep, and containing nothing but feigned joy.

You did this to him.

“It kills me,” your name has never sounded so sad coming out of his mouth.

On a typical night like this, you put on a series and settle yourselves on the couch.

You pull away from him abruptly, getting up halfway through an episode. His hand travels to your wrist. “Where you going?”

Distracted by the action on the screen, you falter momentarily. "Wait, I'm gonna get an ice cream."

“Oh, you want ice cream,” his voice drops an octave, adopting a playful tone. “I have one for you."

"Huh," you look back in time to catch the downward flicker of his eyes, matching the suggestive tone in his words. It takes a moment for you to register as your gazes lock. When you do, the nearest pillow is in your hand and you’re bonking him across the head several times with it. "You are such a pervert," you giggle at his absurd behaviour.

“Ow!” Felix cowers, crossing his arms over himself and shouting, "okay, okay, I'm sorry!"

You move past the couch, making your way into the kitchen. "You want one?"

"Which one, an ice cream? Or a…” He jokes again, sounding like he's about to laugh.

You whip your head around to see him faced towards you on the couch, beaming and waggling his brows depravedly. With that pillow still in your hand, you march towards him menacingly.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" He swerves to avoid your hits, hands coming to grip your shoulders.

Shaking your head with laughter, you turn back, finally getting a serious response from him, “and I’m good, thanks.”

There has always been mischief hiding behind that angel face of his, it becomes apparent when you two are alone like this. Although he’s been showing off that side of him a lot more lately, you know he is only trying to make you feel better.

That much is clear when he sees you coming out of the shower with a zoned out face and starts randomly attacking you with tickles despite only being in a towel.

With your mouth full of chocolatey caramel goodness, you curl yourself back against Felix. Both of you fall silent, attention more or less on the plot of the show.

When he speaks, it's so close to your ear, a shiver rolls down your spine. "Can I have a bite?"

You look at him incredulously over your shoulder, chuckling underneath your breath. "Lix, I asked you if you wanted one."

"Okay, never mind then." He says stoically, eyes returning to the screen.

Feeling bad now, you offer to feed him. "Here."

He wags his head in refusal, clearly putting on a show. "No, I'm okay."

With a roll of your eyes, you shove the bar against his mouth. "Just eat it."

The chocolate exterior cracks beneath his teeth as he indulges himself on a bite. It's quiet again as you share the ice cream bar, down to the last morsel.

As you're licking your lips free of the sticky residue the chocolate and cream left behind, you feel a cold pair of lips on the back of your neck. A few sensual kisses here and there, leaving the area wet and chilly.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

"Felix..." You hum, pressing further into his touch. A throaty moan slips from your mouth when he shifts over to the side of your neck and bites into the skin, a pleasant kind of pain, followed by soothing licks and nibbles.

Your vision gets blurry, from the pleasure you assume, but you quickly realize that they're tears. You blink them back, attempting to swallow down the lump in your throat. It is as if you have floated out of your body, and you are looking down, watching this very moment. He’s been grasping onto you tightly all this time, even when you don’t have the strength to hold him back—blindly staying by your side and expecting nothing in return.

Your body starts moving on its own. Sliding down onto your knees in front of Felix, you paw at the growing erection over his joggers.

He says your name, jumping back in surprise. "Wait, are you sure?" A hand comes up to smooth back your hair. "I really was just kidding."

Lifting your eyes to meet his, that are filled with trepidation and doubt, you nod your head. "Felix, I really want you in my mouth."

He should know better—you both should, considering the circumstances, your unresolved issues looming over your heads like a dark cloud, but it isn’t the fact that he’s been fantasizing about you in this position for the longest time; if it were, he’d stop things from going further. It’s the ring of torment in your voice and the earnest look in your wet eyes that throw his logic out of the window.

A twisted combination of sexual desire and sadness grips you both as you take his length into your mouth.

There is a certain kind of desperation with the way you grasp onto each other, fingers tangled in your hair as his hands cradle your cheeks, yours gripping his thighs as your mouth does unspeakable things to his cock. It is not the usual kind that possesses you at the very first touch, nor at the brink of an orgasm, but rather a distressing kind.

When he’s almost there, he looks at his surroundings through slitted eyes, hips withdrawing from you. “Hold o- on… don’t wanna make a mess.”

You whine, pressing down onto him until your nose is poking his abdomen. His fingers caress your cheek, and you exchange glances of understanding.

“Let me finish in your mouth, pretty baby?” He rasps out, his breathing unstable.

With your tongue on the slit of his tip and a moan of approval, his release spurts into your mouth in warm, thick ropes. The taste is not particularly pleasant, but because it comes from him, you take every single drop you can manage.

He sucks off the remaining beads dripping down your chin before groaning into your mouth, kissing you fully.

You begin crying immediately. Feelings of pure bliss and satiation usually arose after these intimate moments with Felix. You shouldn’t be feeling this empty, not when the love of your life is right here in front of you, holding you, kissing you.

This pushes him to tears as well, because no amount of effort is enough to erase your sorrow. Because there is an empty space in your heart, that even he, try as he might, could not fill.

⭒

author’s note: lmao so ok, i decided to just do one more part after this bc this one was getting a lil long. also it just makes more sense to end it here and split it? clearly didn’t plan this well enough lol anyway, stay tuned guys ;)

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| taglist: @moasworld @acidgh0st @vixensss @yeetfellx @g00dtimenotlongtim3 @letrasalvientoblog @yourmercibeaucoupsblog @tfshouldidohere @sxurgrapes @babrieeee @fawnpeaks |