#i apologize for the coloring but I blame the lighting in this scene

[bellarke]

BOB MORLEY AND ELIZA TAYLOR AS JULIE AND MARCUS I’LL BE WATCHING (2023) Dir. Erik H. Bernard

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Welcome Home, Kento!

♡ featuring: nanami kento x reader

♡ synopsis: nanami can't wait to return home to his wife and kids. little does he know, there's a lot of love waiting for him behind the door.

♡ wc: 2.4k+

♡ tags: nobara and yuji are your children, fanon, domestic fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, salaryman AU

notes: took a break on the capitano fanfic im working on cause domestic kento got me acting unwell i miss him and need him so bad. canon break but idc nobara and yuji are his kids and no one can tell me otherwise. art by getoad on ig! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Nanami Kento’s work seemingly never ended.  

Caught between meetings and printer jams, the small talk he endured with simple one-word answers, and the folders piling on his cold metal desk in a cramped cubicle, he was exhausted. Air conditioners blew frigid in the office, making small accidents unbearable. 

The only warmth he experienced throughout his shifts was the art exhibit on the back wall and a wooden frame, sitting not too far from his grasp. Next to the bulky outdated computer was a picture frame of you, sweating radiance despite the fluorescent wall lights, hair disheveled with tired eyes in your hospital gown. You’re holding a newborn Yuji, chubby with a soft hint of pink fuzz on his head. A one-year-old Nobara chose to nestle next to you through the blood and amniotic fluid sticking to your hands. Somehow smiling—blearily, but still smiling so hard your eyes practically close. 

The scene was not pretty; it burned into his memory, committing to the wrinkles in his brain so that he’d never forget your screams and undying strength. Even the grip on his hand, imprinting the wedding band into his skin when you forced a final push. He never averted his gaze, stroking your wet hair and kissing your throbbing temple; if he could alleviate some of your struggle for a moment, share in your pain for a second, he’d do it ten times over. You’re the mother of his children, after all, his wife and soulmate. 

He met you at a small bakery on the corner of a forgotten street after a double shift. Back turning in knots, cranky as ever with permanently furrowed brows. And when he’d order his favorite pastry—a chocolate eclair—only for it to disappear in the hands of another customer, he was downright irritated. Turning to the offender, the kinks in his muscles suddenly melted at the sight of your apologetic smile. Your apology dissipated in his ears, not managing to reach his cognition as he studied your stunning glow in the dim yellow lighting of that cafe.  

Before you could finish your offer to buy him double, his mouth moved ahead of his mind; “Would you like to sit together?” 

That was forever ago, though. Prior to him falling in love, to your laugh breathing life and color into him once again. To you becoming the soul reason he clocked in every day at a dead-end job he settled for. He was putty in the palm of your hand, but could you blame him? You were his salvation from the bitter, grey world he walked alone for years, and now even the sun felt warmer with you around. 

So, when days become thoroughly tedious such as this one, his eyes tend to wander. Once, twice to his watch, then to the countless drawings from Yuji and Nobara stuck to the cubicle. Yuji and Nobara were two sides of the same coin, regardless of the weekly sibling rivalry where he had to stop them from tearing each other’s hair out. Nanami wasn’t a man who chose sides which usually resulted in him taking both drawings from their art competitions, to the dismay of the sore winners. 

The old Nanami Kento would’ve hunched over the desk, mindlessly typing away past his shift ending, until his buzzing lamp was the sole light left in the office. Currently, he was dying to go home, nearly dreaming of seeing your faces, your “welcome home” as he opened the door. His printed tie is lax around his neck, shirt unbuttoned a little too low with an ankle crossed over the other knee, like nothing matters besides holding you at the end of the day. The digital clock rings, breaking him out of a trance and knocking the pen he’d been fumbling with out of his hands. 

Immediately he starts shoving papers in his briefcase, some crumpling and folding at the edges. He throws his suit jacket on, clocks out with the same vigor and heads for the door. 

“Nanami, wait a second!” his boss hollers from his office. He steps out, and Nanami barely spares him a glance.  

“We’re short-staffed right now, I’ll need you to stay behind-” 

“No.” 

His boss stands dumbfounded, and it takes a few business days for him to register that his demand was denied. He brushes his balding combover and clears his throat, “Excuse me?”   

“I’m going home to my wife.” 

“This isn’t up for discussion-” Suddenly, Nanami shoots a glare that stops him dead in his tracks. His legs are glued to the floor, like the senses of prey in proximity to a vulture. He appears to be his standard nonchalance, but with the way his jaw clenched, and his eyes bore through him, perhaps retracting his words was the best decision for his safety. 

“U-understood. Have a good weekend.” 

The city streets are serene following sundown, a calm breeze picking up rustling leaves that began to fall. He checks his watch again; just in time for dinner. He hurries up the townhouse steps of the brick building and clicks his key into the mahogany door. 

“Ahhh!” 

“Yuji, come here!” 

“Wahhh, black flash!” 

All the lights in the living room and kitchen are on, and blankets are thrown haphazardly around the floor. The television plays an obnoxiously loud cartoon, but it’s evident none of them are watching it based on the army of colorful toys piled on the couch, and a suspicious stuffed wolf plush sitting on the stairs with its head lopsided. An odd lone cookie lays half-eaten on the floor, and the kitchen counters are strewn with crumby flour and sticky batter. The faint aroma of something sweet lingers in the entryway. 

The best part is you, his wife, chasing after Yuji and Nobara in his dirty button up teal shirt with the sleeves rolled up. You’re all dripping in water, trailing sodden footprints around the house. Nobara comes around the kitchen island in a bath robe and towel headband, bunny ears bobbing as she drags a leash toy behind her popping plastic balls of rainbow pigments.  

Yuji, on the other hand, is completely naked minus a comical formation of bubbles around his lower half. He’s chasing her with a toy car foaming with soap and it soars in the air as he laughs and chants sound effects, “bam, black flash!”, pretending to launch it at her. The lot of you are circling the kitchen island, chaotic laughing and shrieking as Nobara’s toy bangs into the stools and cabinets. Just then, a wind-up robot taps Nanami’s foot and falls over. 

“Yuji stop chasing her!”  

“Ahhh!” 

“RAHH!” 

He’s never felt more at home in his life. 

He drops his briefcase, shrugs off his jacket and shoes and joins in. Yuji may be able to evade your grasp, but Nanami was an entirely different beast. You finally manage to intercept Nobara and scoop her in your arms, shaggy robe eclipsing her small cherubic pout. Nanami rushes around the corner and snatches Yuji upside-down, tiny damp feet pressed at his chin with his arms dangling in the air. Amid the chaos you hadn't noticed him, but when your kind eyes meet, a bright smile warms his cheeks, like the first time you met—he's smitten all over again.  

“Daddy!” Nobara screams. 

Yuji squeals and struggles wildly in Nanami’s hold. “I win” he declares. 

“Noo you don’t, not fair!” He tries to escape but Nanami has an iron grip, and you place Nobara on the counter while you get Yuji. He passes him off to you, “Sorry, you’re covered in water now.” He tilts your chin and plants a chaste kiss, skimmed traces of yearning. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve been missing you all day.” 

“Really?” He hates when you ask that, because truthfully, he misses you incessantly. It borders on obsession. The second you leave his sight, he’s wondering when you’ll return, if he could go with you, should it be a family outing, should he follow you? He’ll stir in the thoughts that totally encompass you; you, you, you, until you come back to him. 

“Of course, my love.” Yuji grumbles an annoyed noise and tucks his head in your neck. “Trouble in paradise?” he adds, a tinge of sarcasm. You giggle, brushing the drenched strand of hair from your face, “Yuji really fought the bath today.” 

“Black flash!” he yells, firing his baby fist in the air. Nanami makes a feigned noise of pain to throw his head back and clutch his heart. “C’mon now, let’s finish up” you tell him. As you’re dragging him down the hallway to the bathroom, his defiant wails fade to silence. 

Nanami cleans up the disarray with Nobara’s help. She throws the toys in the toybox, a proud look on her face while Nanami stacks the blankets in a lump on the couch and sweeps the crumbs from the floor. He felt a bit guilty putting a damper on the fun, but winding down the kids for bedtime was most important, and Nobara would gladly change into her dinosaur pajamas if that meant she could spend some time with dad.  

Yuji arrives as a tired, messy-haired but less stinky version of himself, wearing an alien onesie. You’d clearly won the great bath war. 

But a growing scent floods the kitchen, mild smoke emitting from the stove skillet. 

The skillet? 

Shit. 

“Ohh, no no no”, you run to grab a spatula and remove the skillet from the burner. The pancake facing you seems unharmed, perfect even with a nice fluffy texture. You fan the smoke away with a kitchen towel and Nanami approaches you. He looms over the pan, “Pancakes?” 

“Yeah, Yuji wanted pancakes and Nobara wanted chicken nuggets. So, we did both” you say, scraping the underside of it. The crackling of something crispy doesn’t do much to ease your doubts. “Looks good to me-” 

You flip the pancake, and it’s fully burnt.  

Solid black with a thin trail of smoke billowing. You both stare at it in silence. Then you look at each other, and Nanami bursts out laughing. Tears collect at his eyes, and he’s doubled over with his head on your shoulder, a hand around your waist. You sigh in defeat, “Does it still look good to you?” 

“I’ll eat it if it makes you happy.” 

“I’m not trying to kill my husband.” He hums and kisses your cheek. “I’m sorry, I tried to have dinner ready for when you got home. Lost track of time.” 

The last thing he’d want is for you to feel bad about such trivial matters. He hugs you from behind, whispering in your ear, “Don’t worry, it’s enough. Everything you do is enough.” Yuji abruptly hits his leg, and he peers down. “I wanna hug mommy too!” 

“Get in line. She’s my mommy right now” he teases. You giggle when Yuji tries to wedge between your bodies, and Nanami holds his head back like a bull charging at a fence. 

When they’re done eating their chicken nuggets, and he convinces Yuji that celery tastes better than pancakes, you snuggle up for the night. Weekends lasted later into the night, but regardless they had to stay on schedule. It was his favorite part of the week, where you dimmed the lights, he lit the fireplace and crowded on the floor of a striped blanket fort in the middle of the living room. Yuji rested his head on a pillow with his favorite wolf plush while Nobara laid on your stomach. 

“In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf” you start, holding the book with one hand. Nanami always opts to sit outside of the fort. One, because he’s too tall for it. And two, he likes to see your face reading peacefully in the rare tranquility of a hissing fireplace. You were so gentle and nurturing that at times he found it hard to pull himself away from your face, sinking in pure adoration. 

“One Sunday morning the warm sun came up and”, you wind up your hand and tickle Nobara. “Pop! —out of the egg came a tiny and very. Hungry. Caterpillar.” You tap her nose in line with the words.  

Nanami understood why the kids enjoyed your story time over his monotone one. He couldn’t get past the first page before Yuji started to complain and Nobara began to space out. “He started to look for some food” you dance your fingers down her spine like a caterpillar would, and she faintly smiles. 

Yuji normally falls asleep first, snoring like a grown man as he drools into the pillow. Then Nobara will drift quietly, to the point where you barely realize she’s dreaming. Then you, fighting sleep as you gaze up at Nanami, forcing yourself to make conversation in a half-groggy state. Your hair is jumbled and the shirt you stole from the hamper bunches at your waist. Here, he feels fulfilled. Irrevocably whole. 

“How was your day, sweetheart?” you drawl. His heart flutters at the pet name, caressing your face with his thumb. “The usual” he replies, just as soft and tender, “it felt longer today.” 

“Mm? Why?” He picks up on a croak in your voice, a sign you’ll be sleeping soon. “I couldn’t wait to come home.” 

A pleased noise rumbles at the back of your throat. “Let’s go to the beach. It’ll get too cold soon.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Mhm”, you run your hand over his, leaning into his touch, “maybe we could invite Gojo and his kids.” 

“Hell no, that guy’s a nutcase.” You laugh, hushed and weak. He kisses your forehead. “Goodnight, my love.”  

“No, I’m not sleeping yet” you groan in spite of closing your eyes. “Then what are you doing, right now?” 

“Mm. Just resting them.”  

He smirks, aware of what happens right after that. He kisses your nose, then your velvety lips. He can’t shake the fact that he’d found someone like you, someone who’d love him unconditionally, accept his flaws and dry humor and stand by his side under any circumstances. It almost felt undeserved, like that bakery incident should’ve earned him a slap to the face instead of your sweet nature, swelling his heart and pulling him deeper. His only treasures, laid in front of him in a cozy cuddle pile.  

Before he could get up to turn the lights off, a soothing utterance of your voice, words he’d been waiting for since he opened the door. 

“Welcome home, Kento.” 

© mooishbeam - please don't steal, copy, or post my work to other platforms :)

[aviradasa]

Love long lost Pt3

Aaravos x Fem!reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

{Angst} @delusional-mushroom @hubba-hubba1 @jellyfishxxi

Warnings: None that I can think of but I finished writing this as I was having a interesting mental time so I honestly don't think no shit anymore 😭

Masterlist

Link to part 1

Link to part 2

Link to part 4

I stand looking into the broken shards of the mirror, it's only been a couple of hours yet, The burning Mark of my forehead remains, a sigil that emanates a blue glow that burns anything that comes close to it.

We tried removing it, wiping it, erasing it with one of Callum's spells, yet it stayed. I’m about to ask Rayla to lend me her blade so I can cut it off. I want nothing more to do with it, I want to forget what I saw, forget Aaravos, and go home. Wherever that may be.

As I stare at my reflection, And the mirror that Aaravos broke, I can't help but think about those scenes. They were cryptic, disturbing, and yet beautiful. When I woke I had the intention of telling the group what was presented to me in those visions but my voice was caught in my throat. I wish I had known what to say but the words would not bring themselves to me.

“Hey, Y/n” I whip around turning to the voice in surprise, realizing it's just Callum I let out a sigh of relief. “Oh hey, Callum.” I say turning back to the mirror “Did you need something?” I ask him, ever since I woke up I've avoided him, even though the actions were not his own, But those of Aaravos, I still can't bring myself to look at him after he was the last thing I saw before being tormented by those visions, I feel horrible but the back of my mind blames him for even bringing that mirror in the first place if he would have just left it none of this would have happened. But then again we wouldn't know what we were up against if he hadn't. I still can't get those faces out of my mind, I want answers and I think I know who I might have to ask to get them.

“Yeah, I kind of did.” Callum says rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I wanted to check up on you and apologize for what happened earlier.” he tells me taking a couple more steps before sitting on a rock, I nod my head looking at him in one of the broken shards of the mirror before turning to face him.

“It's fine Callum. You didn't have control of yourself, therefore your actions were not yours and I forgive you." I say with a small reassuring smile as I take a seat beside him on the rock. I can’t avoid Him forever. So I might as well forgive him.

He nods his head to me, “It was horrifying not being able to control my body or my voice. It was like I was a puppet with strings around my limbs. I mean I was forced to hurt my friends and my brother, and what he made me do to you.. I’m just really sorry Y/n i just can't say it enough.” he says placing his head in his hands before rubbing his temples in a stressed-out manner,

“ Callum, like I said it's ok I forgive you. You're one of my closest friends. I know you are goodhearted, there's no need to build a case for yourself. I understand completely.” I say patting him on the back a bit in a comforting manner.

For a few moments, we sit like that, before Callum lifts his head to look at me. “Y/n if you don't mind me asking ... What did you see when Aaravos made me use that spell on you?” he asks with a bit of hesitance resting in his tone like he was afraid to even mention that moment that happened but a few hours ago. It's understandable. Everything is still so fresh in our minds, I can remember each word, each movement, hell I can even remember the hue of the colors in the room at the time,And how the light hit them.

Still, I can't help but let out a sigh as the visions flash through my mind, the last scene in particular sticking with me, the sound of the cries and the screams. God they won't leave my mind they haunt me at every moment. I shake my head a bit to hopefully disperse my thoughts, sadly it goes in vain as they stay clear as the night sky that seems to shine particularly bright tonight to my great displeasure.

I lower my gaze to some loose pebbles at our feet as I speak. “ I saw him, Aaravos. But it was different, he was different and he was with a woman in each scene I saw him in. It felt like I was seeing the past.” I tell Callum, returning my gaze to him once more. “What do you mean by scene?” he asks with confusion.

“ you know, like I saw multiple visions.” I explain rolling my foot around on the pebbles

“The first one I saw him in a tavern, hidden in the very back, then this performer showed up. But the scene changed before I got a good look at her. That's when this happened.” I say showing him my now bandaged fingers from when I had clawed at the tavern door. He uncomfortably shifts away from my wounded hands, the image of them being torn up and me clawing on a wooden door making him cringe at the thought.

“Then I finally got a good look at them in the second vision. I recognized the girl by her outfit at first, I had recognized Aaravos by his voice at the tavern so I already knew it was him. In my vision, they were meeting up in the woods, pretty secretly from the looks of it.” I told Callum.

“What kind of secret? Like kidnapper secret or evil ‘Let's destroy the world plans’ secret?’ he asks and I laugh

“ no no, neither it looked like it was more of a lover's way, and that was only confirmed by my third and final vision,” I explained with a grin. It feels good to tell someone about what I saw. I know it wasn't that long ago but ever since I woke up it has been eating me alive, and this mark has been burning.

“ Well, what happened in your third vision?” Callum asks with an intrigued expression.

“Well I woke up in a cave, and then they ran in all torn up, and she started screaming at him, and he wouldn't respond to her until she yelled at him once more and he screamed back and then the vision ended with his slamming his arms into the wall as she cried on the cave floor. I woke up before I could get any more answers.” I explain with a groan. “ It's just none of it makes any sense. I don't understand why I was shown any of that though. It all was so random, none of those things fit together." I say with frustration as I kick one of the pebbles by our feet away to an unknown location in the storm spire.

Callum seems to be in deep thought, in a moment it seems as though a light went off in his brain and he grabs his sketchbook. “ Here just out of curiosity would you describe what Aaravos and the woman looked like?” he asks as he readies his pencil. “ not sure how much help that would be but I suppose I could.” I agree. I can't think of how a drawing of them could help us in any way but I decided I can afford to humor Callum for a little while.

Little time passes as we sit there, as I describe the two people I can see Callum's face shift with concentration. But as I describe the elf woman, his face starts to slowly get more confused and he starts to dart his eyes back and forth between me and the drawing frequently. “ Is something wrong My friend?” I ask abruptly, Callum's head shoots up to look at me then I get back to the drawing and then to me once more. “ Well, nothing's wrong… I guess it's just…” he pauses for a minute before he holds the sketch up next to my face. “ with what you've described to me, it ended up looking like…” he trails off for a moment before pointing to the mirror, I'm able to see my reflection in the broken shards, the drawing is indeed the woman I saw, and yes I thought she looked a little bit like me when I saw her. But seeing her next to me I quickly realized that she did not only look like me, and sound like me. She was me.

She was me, and I didn't know how. These visions were not mine, but they felt so real like they couldn't be anything but a memory and I can't think of a reason Aaravos would fight so hard to show me visions that are not real. Thinking of it now he seemed to know me well, And the way he spoke to me with such personal hatred only confirmed it. But Zubeia had told us all that it's been over a century since Aaravos’s imprisonment, so how could he hate someone he doesn't know?

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by Callum announcing to me he's done with the drawing. I hadn't even noticed it wasn't being held up to my face anymore. As I turn to Callum he shows me the drawing. And it's a replica of both Aaravos and the mysterious woman from my vision.

“ That's exactly right, you did well.” I compliment Him as he smiles a bit, ripping the drawing out of his sketchbook and handing it to me. I thank him as I look at the drawing before an idea pops into my mind. “ Hey Callum, do you know if Queen Zubeia is here at the moment,” I ask him

“ yeah she's here, she's sitting with the other up front. Why?” he asks with a raised eyebrow,

“ I need to talk to her in private, but I don't wish to speak to the others yet. Could you ask her if she would be willing to speak to me?” I ask Callum with a dazed look still deep in thought. He nods his head “ I'll ask her, if you need anything else feel free to ask, I owe you now.” he says with a bit of a chuckle as he leaves the room.

A couple of minutes pass and I hear the heavy steps of the dragon queen entering the room, I turn to face her as she enters, giving her a small bow. “ Queen Zubeia, thank you for accepting to speak with me. I’m sorry I didn't ask you myself. I didn't think it right to talk to the others just yet,” I explained to her. She simply nods her head and sits in her regular spot in the room. “ there's no need to bow to me Y/n, Callum told me about your visions.” she sighs

“When Callum said you wished to speak to me about them I was not surprised I figured you would have a lot of questions. but before I tell you everything you must realize that You were' supposed to know about this just yet.' 'she tells me. I look at her in curiosity, Anxious about what she's going to say. Whenever a story starts with ‘ you weren't supposed to know ‘I can tell it's gonna be bad.

Zubeia meets my gaze and she speaks once more “Before I tell you these Atrocities, are you positive you are ready to handle the burden of this tale, knowing that it could tear the group that Xadia relies on apart?” I nod my head to her “ I must know my queen, I fear if I am left to my speculation I might go mad.” I tell her, “Now please I must have an answer. Who is she?” I say holding up the picture of Aaravos and the woman that Callum drew so that the dragon queen could get a good view.

“I figured that would be your first question. And to answer it I have a story to tell you. It's About A humble performer and the star who corrupted her.” Zubeia says looking up through the hole in the storm spire that shows the night sky, I follow her gaze as I listen to her.

“Centuries ago there was A young, sweet elven girl. She was a dancer who would travel across Xadia With her performance group. At the time Xadia was whole and humans and elves were living together, It was not harmonious as you can assume. But in some places, people were a bit more open-minded. Most of the time these places had quite the night life and the taverns and inns would be packed full of elves and humans combined." She starts by bringing her gaze back down to me as I sit down on a rock to listen.

“Well one night The woman and her group came to perform in one of these taverns, and there she met him.” she continues, “Aaravos?” I ask, and Zubeia nods. “ Yes, child Aaravos. He was quite charming and she couldn't help but be drawn to him, and as time went on and they saw more of each other they developed a friendship, he would go to her shows and teach her magic, and she would tell stories of him and the great ones to people all over Xadia through her songs and stories, and with the magic he taught her the performances became more popular and people would pay to see her and the group perform together With Aaravos always hovering in the background or the shadows.” Zubeia tells me.

‘Well, that explains a lot’ I thought to myself as I looked at the mirror in my peripheral vision. This is all stuff that was blatantly obvious in the story so I struggle a bit to completely tune into the story but I realize i can't afford to lose any of this information.

“ Well one day, The woman told Aaravos to meet her at a certain part of the woods after her show one night. He agreed to do so and met her in the little hidden clearing of the forest, once he got there though he was met with some unexpected words. A confession. The woman told him that during their time together she had gained feelings for him.

She was terrified of how he would react. He was one of the great ones after all, But some of her worry was washed away when he also confessed that he shared her feelings. She was overjoyed of course. But they both knew that if any found out about them, she would be in grave danger. There were stories in the past of the mortal lovers of the mysterious entities who would be burned at the stake, under unknown superstition. So they decided to stay secret.” Zubeia explains with an almost hushed voice.

“ Wait, why would they burn the mortal lovers at the stake, wouldn't that just piss off the great one whose lover they burned?” I ask in confusion. As Zubeia chuckles

“ Well back then like I said it was an unknown superstition, but the reason they had done it before was rumored to be because the other great ones would order mortals to do it to keep the other one in line, Back then they were almost seen as gods. People worshiped them. I’m assuming they thought if one of them was with a mortal being they would lose power and respect so they ordered death to any mortal who could seduce one of them.” Zubeia explained.

“ Anyways, so for a long time, they kept the secret. But one night when they had met in that same clearing once more, The bard from the woman's group found them and ran away in fear. Not because he had seen them together. But because unknowing to Aaravos’s lover he had gained a bounty on his head for the suspected murder of the dragon queen Luna Tenebris, and The queen of lux Aurea Queen Aditi.

unfortunately, Aaravos saw the bard and went to chase after him, but the woman stopped him in confusion, as she trusted the bard he was a good friend of hers for many years. But then the sound of a humongous mob sounded in the distance, making Aaravos grab the woman in her confusion and run through the forest. She knew that something was off when he took her and ran, it was too out of character for him.

As they ran the mob gained on them a bit and she tripped and fell behind. The mob paid her no mind and ran right past her. Unknowing to them Aaravos had teleported himself back to grab her. The rain and mud made it hard to trudge through the forest but eventually, they reached a small cave..”

“Oh, I know this part from my last vision! They got into an argument once they got there cause he wouldn't tell her what was happening.” I chime in with a grin. I know the story is quite grim, but so much has come to light and I can't help but smile as my mind is slowly eased every moment, but it only replaces old questions with new ones I realize as my smile drops a bit.

“Well,” Zubeia says with a sigh. “ He left her in that cave. He left and the next morning She was found lying unconscious on the rocky ground. Turns out that the cave was the nest of an Earth dragon, It had witnessed the whole ordeal and knew that the Archdragons were looking for Aaravos. So it picked him up and brought her to us.” Zubeia says with a frown. Clearing her throat a bit before continuing her voice a bit sad.

“Now Y/n this is part of the story that I can't possibly prepare you for, The actions of me, Avizandum, and the other archdragons, Are unforgivable as they were originally. But especially meeting you and knowing you now Y/n as a friend it breaks me even more now.” Zubeia says grimly. As she bows her head down so shes at my level a bit. “Y/n what I’m going to tell you is going to make you hate us all. But you need to be told as it is crucial information. But before I do, I must explain to you. That the woman in this story is not random…” she says to me with sad eyes.

“She's me isn't she,” I ask, staring at the picture.

“I beg your pardon? Zubeia says in surprise.

“She's me isn't she?” I ask once more, glancing up at her with a blank expression.

“ Unfortunately.”

[thiccpettybitch]

🕸 Bitter Sweet - Ch. 6 Miguel O’hara x F!Reader 🕸

*Aggressively throws fluff in your face and then runs off*

This is for you, didn’t have a good day? Well hopefully this makes it better!

Ref and translations at the bottom😊

Part 7

You sat up in Gwen's bed, your head throbbing. With one hand shielding your eyes from the bright light streaming through the window, you couldn't help but feel like you had swallowed a desert. The bitter taste of bile crept up your throat as you clumsily opened and closed your mouth a few times, hoping to alleviate the dryness.

Gently swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you took a moment to steady yourself and regain your balance. Just as you were gathering your thoughts, a knock on the door caught your attention, and you turned to see Gwen slowly making her way inside.

‘’Good morning,‘’ you said as you clumsily stretched, a tired smile on your face.

‘’I’m so sorry,’’ she said while looking at you, her eyes glossy.

‘’Wha- have you been crying? What’s wrong?’’ you asked, patting the spot next to you on the bed.

Gwen quietly made her way around the bed and settled down next to you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight embrace. Her whispered apologies filled the air as you held her close, offering comfort and reassurance. After a while, as her sobs subsided, you gently pulled her away from you, allowing her the space to explain what had happened.

"I don't even want to think what could have... y/n, I am so sorry. I should have never..." Gwen's voice trailed off, her gaze fixed on her fumbling hands.

With a gentle smile, you reached out and lovingly squeezed her hand. "It's okay, Gwen. Thank goodness nothing happened, but... I should have been more careful, not gotten so drunk without realizing it."

"That doesn't even make any sense..." Gwen murmured, still lost in her thoughts.

Sinking back against the bed, you rested your hands on your stomach and gazed up at the ceiling. "Maybe it doesn't, but I'm not blaming you, and I won't let you blame yourself either. It was just a mistake..."

As you closed your eyes, the memories of that night started to seep back into your consciousness, sending shivers down your spine. You felt like a spectator as your mind replayed the scene before you—a wall, your fading color, and a creeping hand snaking up your leg. It resembled a poison, draining the life out of you. The familiar bile rising in your throat made you scowl and shudder. Suddenly, you opened your eyes to find Gwen looking down at you with a small, sympathetic smile

"I should probably give my folks a call, just to let them know I'm okay," you said, pushing down the overwhelming emotions that threatened to resurface.

Gwen nodded and handed you your phone, which she had left to charge for you. "Thanks, Gwen," you said, offering her a grateful smile.

"I'll give you some room. Dad's making breakfast- brunch, I guess," she mumbled with an awkward chuckle. You smiled and nodded as you watched her leave the room, giving you a quick and awkward wave before closing the door.

Letting out a deep sigh, you reached over and grabbed your phone. Running a hand through your hair, you unlocked your phone to check your notifications.

---

[E-mail:]  Y/n! we like your style, but it could be better! We are giving you 30% off this summer—

You rolled your eyes and scrolled passed it.

Duolingo: Looks like you forgot your Spanish lesson again. You know what happens now!

You blinked a few times, rubbing your eyes in disbelief. Bringing the screen closer to your face, you re-read the notification, trying to make sense of it.

Duolingo: Looks like you forgot your Spanish lesson again. You know what happens now; Your streak is gone!��

Oh, okay. That was a personalized and… vaguely threatening notification.

---

You shook your head, dismissing the notifications, and scrolled past them on your phone. With a determined click, you dialed your aunt's number and waited as it rang, your anticipation growing. After a few seconds, you heard the cheerful voice of your aunt on the other end, instantly lifting your spirits.

"Hey aunt May, how are things?" you asked, settling back against the headboard of the bed.

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary! But forget about that, I want to hear how you are! Did you have fun? Did you meet any nice boys~?" she asked with an excited yet hushed tone.

A flashback of the previous night flashed in your mind, and you scowled, feeling uneasy. "Uhm..."

Your aunt must have noticed the change in your tone, as worry filled her voice. "Did something happen, y/n? Are you okay?"

You held the phone against your chest, letting out a quiet curse under your breath before, gathering yourself. You brought the phone back to your face and responded, "N-no, no! Nothing like that, aunt May. You know me, though. It's... No. I didn't meet any new boys."

There was a brief pause on the other end before aunt May replied with uncertainty, "Okay..."

With a change in her tone, she asked, "No new ones?"

"Yeah, well—uhm, it's not really why I went. I don't care about boys," you mumbled, trailing off.

"Was the guy you like there?" Aunt May asked, causing you to still, your eyes fixated on a spot in front of you as another vivid flashback flooded your mind.

Miguel with his hands on the creep's head, pushing him against the wall. His grip was so strong that the guy whimpered in pain, desperately trying to free himself. Then Miguel turned around, locking eyes with you in what felt like slow motion. He walked up to you, his warm gaze enveloping you, making you want to wrap your arms around him. He pulled you into his embrace, his hand resting on the small of your back, gently rubbing slow and soothing circles.

"You're safe with me. No one is going to lay a hand on you."

Your cheeks heated up at the memory. "Uh—yeah, yeah! He was...uh, he was definitely there," you responded, stumbling over your words.

"Oh~? You'll have to tell me all about it when you get home!" Aunt May rejoiced.

You were about to respond to your aunt’s excitement when you felt your phone vibrate against your ear. Putting her on speaker, you listened as she seamlessly transitioned to discussing what to make for dinner and the funny antics your uncle had been up to. Meanwhile, your attention shifted to the new notification that had just popped up on your screen.

[Miguel: Feeling hungry?]

Huh?

‘’Oh- oh, yeah? Really? Well, that’s uncle ben for you,’’ you awkwardly responded, as you had only been half listening.

Your aunt's voice carried on in the background as you glanced at the text message, feeling utterly perplexed. Letting out a frustrated swear, you accidentally clicked on the message, unintentionally leaving it on read in the chat.

CRAP!

What did he mean?

Food, clearly!

Well DUH!

You thought to yourself but wait, had you agreed to have lunch together? Was he... asking you out? The memory of the woman from last night, their apparent closeness, crept into your mind, causing a frown to form on your face as you fell into silence, a chilly feeling sweeping through your gut.

"Y/n?" Your aunt's voice snapped you out of your daydreaming.

"Yeah? Sorry, you, uh, cut out for a moment," you lied, feeling a tinge of guilt.

"Oh, well, I was asking if you were on your way back?" she asked, sounding uncertain.

"Uhm, actually aunt May, I think I'll head home later, if that's okay? I kind of want to hang out with Gwen a bit more," you said, waiting anxiously for her response, hoping she would understand.

"Okay, sweetie. Get home before it gets dark though. It's a school day tomorrow after all," your aunt advised, and you agreed. After a bit more conversation, you said your goodbyes and hung up. Staring down at your phone, the sleeve of the shirt you were wearing slipped down your arm, catching your attention.

You looked down, realizing that you were still wearing Miguel's shirt. Pulling up the collar, you slowly inhaled, noticing how it carried his scent. A bright red blush spread across your cheeks as you realized how warm and comfortable it made you feel. His scent had a way of making you blush deeply. However, that comforting feeling slowly drained away, replaced by a sudden realization.

The shirt... Of course, he wants it back!

You shook your head, feeling foolish for not considering it earlier. He had been forced to walk home shirtless yesterday, and you felt like a complete jerk. Not only did he defend you and lend you his shirt, but he also carried you to Gwen's place. You had to make it up to him, and buying him lunch seemed like the least you could do.

Glancing down at your phone, you quickly composed a text message in response, deleting and rewriting it multiple times before finally sending it.

[You: You want to meet up for lunch?]

After a few minutes had gone by, you figured it was a good time to change into a fresh set of clothes while you waited. Thankfully, aunt May had reminded you to bring a change of attire. As you were in the midst of getting dressed, your phone buzzed with a notification. Trying to play it cool, you pretended like you didn't momentarily drop everything and eagerly hopped back onto the bed to read the message.

[Miguel: Yeah. There’s a café on Webber Street. Be there in an hour?]

He’s such a… stiff? Texter. Is that even a word?

[You: Okay, see you then!]

[Miguel: Webber Street, big green sign. Not even you could miss it. Hasta allí.]

[You: I got it!]

You responded with a huff and an eyeroll, a smile slowly spreading on your face.

Jerk.

You quickly gathered your phone and charger, sliding the phone into your pocket and placing the charger in your backpack. As you packed up, you decided to fold up Miguel's shirt and tuck it away in your bag, knowing you would have to bring it home and wash it before returning it to him. With your belongings in tow, you walked out into the living room where Gwen and her father were sitting on the couch, enjoying a late breakfast.

Gwen's father seemed ready to make you a plate, but you raised your hand to stop him, pushing aside the rumbling in your stomach caused by the enticing smell of eggs on toast. Gwen frowned and got up, walking over to you.

"You're leaving?" she said, giving you a look reminiscent of a kicked puppy.

"Yeah, uhm... I kind of have to go," you mumbled, glancing back towards her father and flashing him a small smile.

"Oh. Okay..." Gwen replied, clearly a bit disappointed.

"I'll walk you home then!" she quickly offered.

"No! I mean... no need! I'm kind of..." you leaned in towards her, whispering, "not heading home."

Gwen looked up at you, clearly confused. "What?! Where are you going?" she hissed, grabbing your arm and leading you towards the front door, away from her father's hearing.

Glancing back, you decided to show her the text message from Miguel. She snatched your phone and brought it up to her face, reading it with a swipe up. In response, you snatched it back, giving her a shocked expression.

"Excuse you," you teased with a smirk.

"Sorry..." Gwen sheepishly apologized.

You smiled and gave her a hug, appreciating her willingness to help. She had promised to make up an excuse to her dad in case your aunt or uncle called, and in return, you had switched on your location and promised to keep her updated, just in case. With a wave to Gwen's father, you called out that you were leaving. He looked confused but ultimately waved back.

As you made your way to Webber Street, which happened to be closer to your place than Gwen's, you consciously tried to avoid dwelling on the events of the previous night. Apart from the obvious reasons, you also didn't want to think about the woman you had seen with Miguel. She had a kind and caring demeanor, almost motherly, and it bothered you that you already found yourself liking her. Couldn't someone you liked just date a complete jerk for once? At least then you'd have a valid reason not to like them!

Rounding a corner, you arrived at Webber Street, spotting the café with its prominent green sign. Walking towards it, you held the door open for a woman who was walking out, earning a smile in return. Stepping inside, you were relieved to find that it wasn't too crowded, considering it was a Sunday.

You took a seat in one of the booths along the wall, sliding off your jacket and placing your backpack on the seat next to you, against the wall. Remembering one of your uncle's lessons about keeping your belongings safe, you made sure to keep your accessories on the inside, minimizing the chances of someone snatching them. Pushing the lesson aside, you looked to your side and grabbed a paper menu that was laid on the table. It had a charming design with hand-drawn menu items that looked incredibly inviting. However, you decided to hold off on ordering until Miguel arrived. He should be joining you any minute now.­­

________________________________________________________________

Any…. Minute…. Now….

Prying your eyes away from the never-ending scroll of doom, you reluctantly checked the time and realized that Miguel was already about twenty-five minutes late. Was that normal? Filled with curiosity and a hint of concern, you switched over to a new internet tab and quickly Googled the appropriate etiquette for sending a follow-up text when someone is running late.

‘’How long should I wait for someone who is late, and did not text or call?’’

After a bit of scrolling, your head resting on your hand, you came across various sources suggesting that it could be appropriate to send a follow-up text anywhere between five to fifteen minutes after the agreed-upon meeting time. Letting out a sigh, you decided not to overthink it and opted to send him a text message.

[You: Hey, I’m here. Did you get held up?]

After sending the text a surge of anxiousness washed over you. What if you were in the wrong café, wrong place, wrong damn street! Glancing around, ignoring the dirty looks some of the baristas were shooting you, you caught a glimpse of a street sign. You were definitely in the right place.

‘’Miss?’’

You looked up and locked eyes with one of the baristas, a tall blonde woman who was casually, chewing gum and holding a notepad in her hand.

‘’Hi…?’’ you said unsure of what she wanted.

"You're gonna have to order something if you're gonna keep sitting here," she said, the obnoxious sound of her gum chewing filling the air. You nodded in understanding.

‘’I, uhm—I would but, I’m waiting for someone and don’t want to star without them. Can I just order like a glass of water or something?’’ You asked as you flashed her a small smile.

She eyed you up and down, a hint of judgment evident in the small frown on her face. ‘’You’ve been waiting for someone for like half an hour. You gotta order at least a coffee or something.’’ She said while crossing her arms over her chest.

Actually; it’s been about twenty-five minutes. You turd.

However, upon reflection, you realized that it was probably just a store policy and not her fault. While her approach might have seemed a bit rude, you understood that she was simply doing her job, and you couldn't fault her for that. In the end, you decided to comply and ordered an iced coffee, which turned out to be a delightful concoction of sugar and whipped cream with a hint of coffee. It was undeniably delicious, and you made a mental note to come back to this café again sometime. As you were mid-sip, enjoying the sweet caffeine treat, your phone suddenly buzzed, grabbing your attention. Curiosity piqued, you quickly picked up your phone to check the notification.

[Miguel: ill be roght thrr. Gothol up]

Staring at the screen, the straw slowly slipped out of your mouth, causing a small spill of coffee on the table. You quickly reacted, grabbing a napkin to wipe it up before refocusing your attention on your phone, a sense of confusion clouding your expression.

[You: What??]

You watched as after a few seconds bubbles popped up indicating that he was responding.

And then they disappeared.

Oh, wait! there they are- annnd they’re gone.

What the hell?

Finally, a response appeared on your phone, but as you read the text, your confusion only deepened.

[Miguel: B thrr inaminit]

You shook your head, trying to make sense of it, but the confusion lingered. Deciding to set it aside for the moment, you returned to mindlessly scrolling through social media, hoping to distract yourself from the bizarre message.

---

Checking the time and realizing that Miguel was now forty minutes late, frustration and disappointment welled up inside you. Pulling up his text, you were prepared to let him know that you were leaving. If this was some kind of elaborate prank or punishment for yesterday, it was certainly not funny. There was no reason to waste your time and get your hopes up. Negative thoughts flooded your mind, considering the possibility that he and his girlfriend were playing a cruel prank on you, laughing at your expense. Perhaps his strange texts were a result of his hands being otherwise occupied.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and pushed aside all the negative and toxic thoughts. That wasn't like Miguel, or at least you hoped it wasn't. Despite not having known him for very long, you believed you had a better sense of his character than to expect him to do something like that.

However, something caught your attention in the corner of your eye. A crowd of people had gathered around the window next to the café. Curiosity piqued, you observed as more and more people joined the crowd. Intrigued, you got up from your seat and walked over to the door, peering outside. Other café-goers joined you, and together you discovered that people were gathering around the window to watch the televisions inside, broadcasting the local news. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to join the rest of the crowd and see what had captured their attention.

"My name is Zuri Adekunle, reporting live from the iconic Times Square, where chaos erupted moments ago in a heart-pounding car chase involving the police, attempted robbers, and our beloved friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!"

You watched; eyes glued to the screen as it showed previous live footage of the chase happening.

‘’Unfortunately, we did not manage to get an interview from Spider-Man himself, however we do have with us today, Captain of the NYPD; George Stacy.’’

You watched as Gwens father spoke, a deep frown on his face as he went on to explain the situation and how Spider-Mans intervening, was not wanted. How instead of celebrating him you should celebrate the men and woman who serve every day, putting their lives on the line for the city and it’s proud citizens.

As you turned around, heading back to the café to retrieve your belongings, you suddenly caught sight of Miguel rounding the corner. His disheveled appearance and uneasy demeanor were immediately noticeable. He was breathing heavily as he jogged up to the door, but when he spotted you, he stopped abruptly. Running a hand through his hair, he cleared his throat, his expression a mix of relief and apprehension.

‘’¡Yo! Sorry for being late.’’ He says as he walks up to you, flashing you a smile.

Looking up at Miguel, a perplexed expression evident on your face, you furrowed your eyebrows deeply. In response, he flashed you another smile and reached out to grab the door, holding it open for you. With a gentle hand on your back, he guided you back into the café, silently urging you to follow him.

"You're really late—did you just come out from that alley?" you asked, your head slightly tilted as you tried to catch a glimpse into the alley, a look of confusion etched on your face.

"Yeah, I know. I took a shortcut through there. My bad," he mumbled, gently pushing you inside the café.

You observed Miguel as he dropped down on the couch, one arm resting on the backrest and one leg propped up on the couch. He let out a deep breath and moved his head from side to side, audibly hearing his neck crack.

"Geez... You... good?" you asked, concern lacing your words as you took a seat.

Miguel glanced up, momentarily caught off guard. "Hm? Oh!" He straightened up, running another hand through his hair and adjusting his hoodie. "Yeah, yeah! I ended up having to run a few blocks, so... just needed a minute to catch my breath."

Your eyes widened as you connected the dots. "Oh! You must have gotten caught up with the whole car chase!" you exclaimed, watching him curiously.

"HUH?! Uh, no, no. Why would you think that?" he responded, his face scrunched up in confusion and unease.

"Well... I mean, I just saw it on the news. They must have shut down a few streets. Did you not— is that not why you're late?’’ You questioned, a mix of confusion and suspicion evident on your face.

"Oh... yeah, I guess you could put it like that..." Miguel trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

You continued to study him, your expression filled with a mix of confusion and suspicion. Why was he acting like this? And why was he smiling so much? It was so unlike him! Finally, he looked at you, his calm and unbothered demeanor returning. He scanned you from head to toe before shaking his head in confusion.

"What are you staring at?" he asked, his deep tone remaining unchanged.

"I—YOU!" you exclaimed, causing a few patrons to glance over at your table. Realizing the attention you drew, you offered a small apologetic smile to the onlookers.

Miguel raised one of his dark eyebrows, his gaze lingering on you, and you couldn't help but be reminded of just how handsome he was without even trying. With a small frown, you forced yourself to look away. "Why am I here?" you asked, avoiding direct eye contact. "If it's about the shirt, I'll have it washed and give it back to you," you mumbled, glancing down at your hands.

"The shirt? Oh. That's fine. Whatever you want," Miguel replied nonchalantly, shrugging.

"Did you order already?" he asked casually, his eyes widening as he glanced at the menu.

You slowly turned your head to look at him, a cartoonish sound effect of concrete scraping playing in your mind. However, in reality, there was only silence.

"Miguel..." you began, your eyebrows furrowing.

"Hm?" he responded, not looking up from the menu.

"Why. Am. I. here?" you asked, a faint look of annoyance crossing your face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, glancing up at you.

"If not for the shirt, why am I here? Why did you ask me to meet you here?" you inquired, crossing your arms over your chest.

"To... eat?" he replied, his tone uncertain, but managing to wear an expression that suggested you were the one missing something.

"To eat??" you repeated incredulously. Then it hit you. "Did you... ask me to come here as... as you asking me out?" you asked, staring at him, realization dawning upon you.

You watched as Miguel slowly straightened up, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat. His expression was unreadable as he gazed down at you. Even with a table between you, he still seemed to tower over you.

"Me being late... has not made this the best first date, I guess," he mumbled, averting his gaze.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

"I see," you said, trying to keep a straight face.

"If you want to leave, I understand."

"I...uh...no, no, I do not. I just... didn't realize it was a date, is all," you stammered, feeling a mix of confusion and embarrassment.

He looked at you with a perplexed expression. "What? Why else would I ask you to come here?"

"I don't know!" you blurted out, feeling a bit flustered.

Miguel let out a sigh, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Dios, dame fuerzas," he mumbled to himself before turning back to you, taking a deep breath. "I am sorry for being late. Something cam up and It was… unavoidable."

You offered a smile in response. "It's okay."

He nodded slowly, his eyes wandering over your figure before returning to your face. "How are you feeling?"

Frowning, you looked down at your hands, fiddling with your nails. You didn't want to dwell on that right now. But speaking of last night... wasn't he there with his girlfriend? You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should bring it up.

"Don't you already have a girlfriend?" you finally asked, raising your gaze to meet his.

His eyebrows practically shot up to his hairline, showing his shock. "What? No! Of course not. Why would you ask that?"

"The woman from last night," you replied, glancing between your hands on the table and his face.

After a moment of thought, a look of realization and amusement crossed his features. "You mean Jess? The girl with the yellow glasses?"

You nodded slowly, waiting for his response.

He shook his head and leaned back in his seat. "She's just an old friend. She has a boyfriend, and they live together."

Oh~

"Oh..." you replied, glancing up at him. The way he stared at you made your cheeks heat up a bit. "I just...you were there with her, so I just kind of assumed..."

"I left with you, didn't I?" he interrupted, his eyes locking with yours in an almost smoldering gaze.

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he flirting? The thought sent a rush of excitement through you, evident in the slight blush on your cheeks. As if he could read your mind, he let out a short, deep laugh, shaking his head before looking away and then back at you.

The two of you proceeded to order your food, and the waitress nearly choked on her gum when she saw Miguel sitting in front of you. She gave you a surprised look followed by a suggestive smile, causing your cheeks to redden even more, and you had to look away to regain your composure.

As you engaged in conversation, time seemed to pass quickly, and you watched the day slowly fade away outside the window. Checking your phone, you remembered to text Gwen and let her know that everything was okay. However, you noticed that it was getting dark outside.

Suddenly, Miguel's demeanor changed. He became rigid, patting down his sides and running his hands through every pocket before letting out a deep sigh. "Gracias a Dios," he muttered to himself, turning his gaze to you. You looked at him, giving him a small smile, slightly confused.

Miguel extended his hand towards you, waiting for you to place your hand in his. Hesitantly, you placed your hand in his, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. He gently turned your wrist over, using both hands to slide something onto it, his touch soft and delicate.

"It is called a Pulsera de Hilo," he said, gently tightening it against your wrist. "Something to smile at for a change." He teased, running his thumb over your knuckles before pulling away.

You couldn't help but miss his touch already, but you pulled your wrist back and inspected the braided bracelet now adorning it. It was a beautiful combination of dark blue and red threads.

"Did you make this?" you asked, looking up at Miguel. He simply shrugged, leaning back in his seat and watching you.

"It's beautiful, thank you!" you exclaimed, smiling lovingly at him. If you squinted, you could have sworn you saw a light blush on his cheeks before he looked away, finishing his drink.

You spent another half hour just hanging out and talking, savoring each other's company. Eventually, the bitter realization that it was time for you to head home set in. Walking together, joking and asking questions, you found yourselves at the crossroad where you had first encountered each other on your empanada adventure.

You stopped, turning around to face him, and smiled up at him. "Thank you for today. I had a really good time," you said genuinely.

Miguel shrugged but flashed you a small smile. He stared at you for a moment, and you mirrored his gaze, the silence growing slightly awkward. "Was there something else?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

You shook your head, indicating there was nothing else on your mind. He rolled his eyes playfully and motioned for you to keep walking. "I am walking you home, dummy. Vámonos," he said.

You continued walking, on the verge of rolling your eyes at his playful remark, when you felt his fingers intertwine with yours as he took your hand in his. Glancing up at him, you saw that he was focused ahead, his expression remaining unchanged. Your heart started pounding in your chest, and another blush spread across your face.

·  Hasta allí – see you there.

· Dios, dame fuerzas - God, give me strength

· Gracias a Dios – Thank god

· Tontita – dummy

[a-student-out-of-time]

I actually remember seeing that someone called Mikan a manipulative person who end up be nurse so she could make patients weak and dependent on her... Is this true?

//This person is wrong about everything and here's why.

//I've actually had this same discussion with Poi before, and I'll repeat the conclusions we came to.

Mikan is not a manipulator, an abuser or a yandere.

//And louder for everyone in the back:

Mikan is not a manipulator, an abuser or a yandere.

//Are we clear on that? Good, now I'll tell you why.

//Whenever this negative interpretation of her character shows up, it's always because people think about the standout examples of her worst traits in isolation and jump to the worst possible conclusions about her as a result:

//Yeah, if you look at any of these on their own, it sounds bad, but that's not how you get a complete look at a character.

//For one, that scene in Island Mode? It's immediately followed up by this:

//Mikan Tsumiki is one of the most interesting and complicated characters in Danganronpa, and that's the reason why she's my favorite.

//See, Mikan's behavior is explained through one simple fact. It's not that she was abused and bullied throughout childhood, it's why it happened at all.

//The idea that Mikan is only trying to control people or that she has a self-serving victim complex are rooted in a very malicious interpretation of her actions, when these two scenes together showcase the most important core motivation she has.

//Mikan is afraid of being forgotten/ignored. I'd go so far as to say she has a real condition called Athazagoraphobia.

//This already in relation to PTSD and feelings of low self-esteem.

//With this in mind, it perfectly describes all of Mikan's actions and responses to her situation. She's desperately afraid of being ignored or forgotten about by others, which lead to her allowing herself to be abused throughout her early life. I've had my interpretations as to why, but whatever abusive environment she grew up in left her with an actual phobia likely related to neglect or exclusion.

//It's probably why Mikan is constantly asking to be forgiven, because she believes that not being forgiven meets that people are going to ignore, exclude or reject her.

//It's also why she finds herself in "compromising positions" so often. To her, being hurt, humiliated or leered at was still a better than people ignoring her. We have a bad habit of framing attention-seeking behavior in a purely negative light and never ask what drives people to do it.

//And that brings us to why she became a nurse in the first place. Mikan was hurt so often and people refused to help her, so she had to learn how to treat her own wounds, which is how she became a nurse.

//Think about everything I've talked about so far and apply it to this situation. Mikan's realization isn't about a desire for power and domination over others, it's about a desperate craving for acknowledgement. To be in a position where she can't be ignored.

//The reason I say Mikan doesn't have a victim complex is because, outside of her rants in Chapter 3, she only ever apologizes and tries to make sure people aren't mad at her. Real victim complexes are about people framing themselves as the biggest sufferers in any given situation and why they deserve special treatment, which Mikan never does. Anything she says in the third trial is colored by her interactions with Junko, so they should really be taken with a grain of salt.

//But she never fishes for compliments or seeks sympathy for her situation, she doesn't lash out at other people regularly, she doesn't actively blame anyone, she doesn't make up scapegoats, and she doesn't find new things to complain about. Everything she says about herself is very earnest and always very negative, because that's how she sees herself.

//That's not a victim complex, that's bottom-tier self-esteem. Frankly, and I say this because I also enjoy her as a character, but Toko is a better example of someone with a victim complex than her ^^;

//Instead, Mikan puts her own fear and insecurity at the center of her actions. She worries that she's the problem, and that she needs to have people acknowledge her in some manner or else they'll ignore her and forget about her. To her, that's a failing on her part or a punishment for not being good enough.

//It's caused her to develop this perspective where people are either acknowledging her, and that's good, or they're ignoring her, and that's bad. Rather than seeking power, Mikan seems more like she's trying to be a servant and prove that she's useful, thus worthy of attention. She doesn't really grasp that people not acknowledging her doesn't mean they hate her, and that she only ever defines herself based on how other people view her.

//Hajime's response at the end of her FTEs is actually a very fitting rebuttal.

//Does that mean she's done nothing wrong? Of course not. Her attitude has had negative consequences and, yes, it's led to her making bad decisions. However, that doesn't equate to her being manipulative and abusive, it means she's someone who needs to understand that relationships can be built outside of the cycle of acknowledgement and neglect that she's grown accustomed to.

//Bad actions don't equate to someone being a bad person, and the role of psychological harm in those actions shouldn't be ignored or a cause for dismissing them as people completely.

//And this feels like I'm only scratching the surface of her as a character, because there's so much else I could say, but I think I've made my point clear with this much.

//Mikan is one of DR's best characters and I want more people to fucking acknowledge that.

[ellay-gee]

If I were on the writing team for Lone Star for the upcoming season (assuming it starts in August/September)

Owen gets some new neighbors and they get competitive and he and Matteo engage in decorating wars with them for Halloween and Xmas--Halloween's ends in Matteo talking Owen into TPing the neighbor's house

Marjan moves forward with her new beau, and they take a holiday to take him to meet her parents, who are still miffed over her ex, but Joe sets them straight (they seem supportive of her in general, so not like an overtly mean way, just some comments and passive-aggression)

Matteo talks to Owen about wanting to move in with Nancy, and Owen offers for them to both live with him, however Nancy is not fully down for that (would love a few scenes of morning times at the place where she has stayed the night and we get some scenes abt how it's probably not a great idea they all live together, but of course Owen is oblivious) and they do eventually move in together--preferably toward the thanksgiving time and they host a friendsgiving/housewarming for the crew

Paul and Asha start getting more serious, but an old flame of hers comes back to rock the boat (they would stay together bc they are cute together and he just needs to work through any remaining insecurities about their relationship). Later we see Asha get jealous over another woman hitting on Paul and they can have a very cute interaction abt how they're both crazy for each other

I want to give Nancy something very fun, so let's have her and Matteo out to lunch and they overhear some actors running lines (unlike in this post, it would be previously established that a new weewoo show is starting production in Austin--can even be meta about it and talk abt how most of these shows are filmed in LA) and everything they're saying medical-wise is inaccurate and she "well actually"s herself into a consulting position. One of the actors gets a crush and Matteo gets jelly, but she's not interested in the new person so they just strengthen their bond

Grace will find another case she wants to solve herself (details are fuzzy) and she actually works out the details with Wyatt, and his mom (see below) much to Judd's chagrin. (I love when Grace does stuff outside of the call center and we need more of it)

Judd goes to "daddy and me" ballet classes with Charlie and it's fricking adorable and also continues his work with Wyatt, whose mom has moved to town in order to help out with him and his new baby. Maybe we get to see him and his girl get married in the backyard and then they move out by xmas, which we will then get some melancholy and empty-house syndrome once they're gone to be healed when they all spend xmas together

Now for the meaty part that will make us all feral

Carlos has been working on his dad's case...maybe he has actually decided to become a ranger to honor him/investigate his murder. Maybe something has come to light that makes him suspect that someone in the organization had something to do with it

TK is frustrated but supportive--Carlos is hiding some of the details from him and pretending things are fine, but he's not dumb and sees what's going on

They have a small fight and TK blames himself for it, so he decides to make Carlos something special--it's Halloween and his hubby will be working late but he has the night off and plans to hand out candy and do some baking. However, he's barely in the door after running to the grocery when the bell rings and he turns around to open it and let the kids know he needs a sec to get the candy out of the bags, but it's not kids and now we as the audience are in for a whumpy treat

Carlos gets home late, maybe he hasn't heard from TK in a while and thinks he's still mad so he goes home, ready to apologize (perhaps he's had a talk with his mom about it and realizes that his obsession is doing more harm than good). Outside the door, he steps into something sticky and there's a weird-colored puddle on the ground, coming from inside. He opens the door to find that it's icecream and then looks up and the entire place is in shambles and TK is nowhere to be found...though some of his blood is

He's narrowed his dad's murder down to three suspects and one of them has his husband...and starts sending disturbing messages/pics/vids (this arc would go on for a few eps, perhaps this is what Grace and Wyatt are assisting with)

They do rescue him, but I'm currently on the fence on if Carlos offs his captors or not; like he'd be justified and cleared, but he would know that he could have had a different resolution, but after seeing the state TK was in, lost his shit. Guilt ensues. I guess I might be less on the fence than I thought

The attack/kidnapping doesn't necessarily have to be the resolution of Gabriel's death, either-we could see that go into the next season, which would feed into the below idea

Some heavy damage has been done and Carlos feels incredibly guilty abt it and it's implied through the last few episodes that he has started drinking a little more than usual, which could lead us into the following season having an addiction arc, which would spell trouble in paradise for our boys. It could even be perceived and not full-on, like TK nips that shit in the bud when it becomes too much

anyway, just some thoughts. (I'm sure we can all tell what fic ideas I have rolling around the ol' noggin)

What does everyone else want to see?

[cryptid-writer]

More fighter izuku scenes in no particular order, and from several in progress pieces I'm working on for the AU.

Typical warnings for fighting, underaged drinking/substance use, classism, systematic discrimination, implied child death

Bonus headshot I did of Izuku

He's still running with the neighborhood. They all learn the same way, brawling in the streets. They tussle like feral cats, hissing and spitting, it is graceless and dirty. But they'll never survive by playing fair in a world where the odds are stacked against them. The neighborhood teens celebrate his return to fighting by setting dumpsters on fire. They all get their favorite snacks and eat in the empty parking lot next to Suzuki's corner store afterwards, and then someone mentions they have fire crackers, and suddenly they're running through the streets outside the neighborhood chucking fire at each other. Izuku finds himself howling in joy, surrounded by the hyena calls of his fellow compatriots and co-conspirators. His boys are right there beside him, grinning and celebrating with just as much joy as him. It ends in a big brawl and a bonfire, and Izuku knows deeper than ever that he wouldn't trade this for the world. Maybe that's selfish of him, but he finds he doesn't care.

---

Let it be on record that Izuku isn't nice, but he cares. His boys will say he's kind. Ms. Tamayo will say he's a hellion of a kid, but he's dependable. Mr. Shin will say Izuku is a protector at heart who rages for the people against discrimination. Izuku belongs to a neighborhood born of ash and dirt and blood, he is stained with the same colors as them. The neighbors will say he is another lost kid they welcomed home with open arms. Grandmama Yumi will say he helped fill her kitchen with children she could pass on her recipes to. Kids will say he tutors them because their teachers failed them, that he taught them to fight so they might survive longer than him. Izuku is going to do whatever it takes so that maybe one day the neighborhood will no longer hang too large shoes that should still be on small feet. Will no longer have to hold candlelight vigils for children the rest of the world forgot. He doesn't want them to turn out like him, broken and burning and raw. He may not have been born here, but he's welcomed home just the same. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb after all.

---

Izuku gets 1312 tattooed on his collarbone after his second arrest leaves him more pissed off and burning brighter than ever. Eraserhead and Tsukauchi have no right to tell him he's at fault, that he should be a kid, that he can't be on his own. Tell him he shouldn't have fought Katsuki because now his career is potentially at risk. Please, tell him what fucking career outside the pits will welcome anyone who looks like him. Maybe in America, but not in Japan where his appearance generally makes him taboo. That's if they look past the damning “NULL” stamped in big red letters on his ID. The quirkless teenager is not a vessel for their good intent. He's a stray dog on the streets, an aggressive one at that who snaps and snarls at the people who aren't his. A broken bottle boy with a sharp tongue and sharper teeth and even sharper edges. Izuku is the supernova and the storm, lightning blood and fire rage. Dripping with the venom ichor of some angry-bitter thing inhabiting a hollowed out body. Those with quirks seem quick to forget that. They see his display and tell him he needs to apologize for having been made this way by their hands, for not simply laying down and dying. Admonish him for being angry and throwing stones at a regime with guns and ammunition and bombs. Then blame him for ever having existed at all. He and his boys have a party, and it is raw and burning. The angry, dead, and destitute neighborhood teens join them in drinking and smashing glass bottles and brawling under the light of street lamps. Tempers flare and grudges are dealt with on the asphalt. They snarl and fight like the street dogs they are, burned baked raw. They take their anger out on each other and leave the remaining rage behind in the ring. They decorate each other with bruises and blood, roll in the glass shards and grin all the while. (Ken isn't thrilled about sewing them up and pulling glass shards out of them later but the underground doctor understands. They did the same shit after all.)

---

“From what Inko was saying, Izuku has been out on the streets since he was thirteen. He was fighting before that. He's had to fight his entire life brat, it just seems he finally caught fire.” Katsuki thinks back to every sign of smoke he's ever brushed off when it comes to Deku and disagrees. “No. He's always been burning, we all just ignored it.” His mother sighs, far more solemn than he expected she could be. An unusually gentle hand just rests on his head, carding through blond locks softly. It's jarring. “Listen kiddo, you and Izuku come by it honestly. Fire is your birthright, you just manifest it differently. Your grandmother and I are the exact same way as you, the blaze that draws attention. The fire in city limits, “Inko and Izuku are far more dangerous. The fire unnoticed until it's far too late, theirs is a back draft. Calm in appearance until they explode.”

[inkskinned]

he had to hurt her like that, look at the cinema he made. did he? how do you know? the ends justify the means, huh. a woman could never actually act this well, it had to be real, a snuff film. yes, she was hired for her talent - but pain will make the talent brighter, right.

he is not alone. there are men around him who think like this. who choose actresses they can manipulate, exert power over. who write scripts that demand the pain be felt. she must hurt to uphold the message.

(an aside. author's note, i guess. in poetry, when the words cannot hold themselves up, we actually blame the writers. it shouldn't matter who speaks the literature. the words should carry their own weight. be their own scaffolding.)

the men in the room all applaud each other for doing less. they say they push boundaries. they're leaders in their field. they ask the hard questions.

when they get your resume, they put it into a pile that they will put into a trashcan. when they get your screenplay, they will use it as a coaster. when they build their museums, they will have a disjointed room dedicated to "repairing" the ways that women and people of color have been eradicated from "fine arts". it will be self-effacing. we may have overlooked some artists, they apologize. but really it's not our fault that white men make better art. (those men and their works are in permanent displays. for more on this, see: the way that he laughs at your work will make you sick to your teeth). in six weeks, their apology will be scrubbed and the room will be scrubbed and all the paintings will go back into storage.

they know they are right. sure, okay. maybe we have had less opportunities. but what would we have done with them? not something like this. it took a man to do this. okay, okay. it was deranged, we can all agree about it. but look at the product.

in your life, when you wake up, isn't it grand. if they made a museum for people like us, it would be a cycle of empty frames. of ruined videos. of songs with a voicecrack. all the little plaques reading some variation of a theme. here is where my work would stand if someone like me could actually get published in this fucking industry. here is the work i tried to make, before my agency was stripped from me. here is the placeholder of my dreams, but i could not afford them in this society.

if you keep walking, out in the greenhouse out back, the whole world is full of color. every fabric and fortuneteller and feverdream we spat out in despite. centuries of brightness, of novelty, of exploration. of talent, of wisdom, of creativity.

there is only one sign here in this alexandrian library. the sign acts like an epitaph. you already know what it says, don't you. THIS ISN'T ART, it tells you.

the blankets. the chef-level 5-course meals. the carefully-colored journal pages. the abandoned works-in-progress. the library of fanfiction. the margin drawings. somewhere in there, an actress makes a face, and you think - oh shit! she's really broken! but then she smiles at you, winking. she could do it, you know. she could always act like a starbeam. it's just that his name is the one scrolling at the bottom. she hadn't wanted to undress for him. she goes home and gets forgotten. in our museum, another blank frame goes up on the wall.

they'll give him an award, looking to the camera with almost an apology. he will laugh ruefully. nobody will do anything. little white strings will drip from his fingers. young boys in film studies will continue to chainsmoke while explaining how beautiful it is that there's violence in those scenes. she couldn't have done it without him pushing, he'll tell you, shrugging.

but what if, you wonder. what if he had never existed? without him, what else could we be making? all that time and love and spirit, allowed back into the light. into knowledge. what has he taken, to give us his art?

and is it a trade worth making?

[mp3chan]

5:21pm [S]

plz reblog/follow if u enjoy!

pairing: hard dom!changbin x afab!reader

wc: 1.7k

tw: use of the words ‘clit’, ‘core’, ‘cunt’ & ‘pussy’ for y/n (tho no female identifiers are used other than those above), punishment, jealous/meanish changbin, sir kink, degradation (use of slut), slight impact play, MINORS DNI

an: purely blame this on my proofreader ily bestie

© copyright mp3chan 2022 (don’t repost, steal, or translate!)

“i-i’m sorry…” you whimpered, your whole body tensing up, you didn’t mean to actually piss changbin off, only meant to tease him.

“you just had to fucking go and flirt with my members during dinner didn’t you?!” changbin was gripping the wheel tight, knuckles white from the pressure.

at this point you knew you needed to give changbin his distance, you’d never seen him so upset before. you knew he wouldn’t hit you or anything, but you knew he was pissed.

“changbin, i-“ you started to apologize, trying to say you were just joking around with hyunjin and jisung, but he wasn’t having it.

“shut up.” changbin growled again, one hand letting go of the wheel and tightly gripping your lower thigh.

this made your brain short-circuit for a second, you’d had scenes with changbin being dominate before, you always throughly talked it through beforehand. you two never did a spontaneous scene like this.

“sorry sir..” you whispered, clenching your thighs together and squishing changbin’s hand between them.

“you’re gonna be more than sorry, slut.” changbin told you his voice dropping lower and gripping your thigh tighter.

“binnie…i really am sorry.” you whimpered half way playing into what he seemed to be doing and half way trying to get him to calm down. “i was just joking around with them.” you pouted, feeling changbin shove your thighs open with just his fingers.

“color?” was all changbin replied with, his one hand gripping the wheel just as tight as before, trying to stay on the road.

“green..but binnie..” you started lifting out of the seat slightly to turn toward him, only for his free hand to release your thigh and push you back against your seat.

“stay still.” he commanded.

you gulped, you really couldn’t cute or pout your way out of this one. “yes sir.”

“i’m not so much mad at you, i expect this behavior from my little slut.” changbin started, his fingers slowly dragging up your thigh, inching his way closer to your core. “however i didn’t expect my pervert best friends to indulge you.” he added, suddenly slapping your thigh harshly.

“they know you’re mine. do i need to remind them?” he was more blathering to himself now, you knew to stay quiet, only to speak when spoken to. the more he thought of them leaning against you, brushing your hair out of your face, the angrier he got.

at this point changbin was full on speeding, almost running lights, being more reckless than ever.

“i think i do.” changbin turned to you briefly, his free hand continuing its trail up your thigh.

you wanted desperately to just grab his hand and put it where you want it, you knew better not to rush changbin, not to be greedy.

“trying to decide between pulling over and marking you until i’m sure they’ll notice, or taking you back to the dorm and making sure they hear you.” changbin debated aloud, smirking at you when he heard the little gasp come out of your mouth.

“which do you want, baby?” changbin asked you, pulling over and into an alley, quickly making sure the doors were locked.

“binnie…” you pouted, trying one last time to calm him down by being cute.

“not gonna work this time, darling. nice try though.” changbin chuckled darkly, turning in his seat toward you.

“i’ll ask you once last time. here or the dorm?” changbin asked again, making it clear you had to choose between one of them.

“h-here sir.” you whispered, seeing the smirk on changbin’s face as he pushed his seat back as far as it would go and unbuckling your seatbelt.

“lap now.” he ordered, watching you scramble to crawl onto his lap, legs spread just for him.

“tragic you didn’t wear a skirt today, would have made for easier access.” changbin whispered in your ear, pushing your pants down to the middle of your thighs. “i’m sure the members would have liked that though.”

“bin..” you whined, feeling his hands rub your thighs harshly, squeezing your flesh tightly, sure to leave marks like he wanted.

“try again.”

“sir..” you whispered, the grip on your thighs becoming so harsh it hurt, making you whimper aloud.

“hurts?“ changbin asked you, only getting frantic nodding as a response. he tsked and then brought his hand down on your thigh, basking in the yelp that came from you.

“yes sir. hurts.” you panted, this was overwhelming. it was rare hard dom changbin made an appearance, but he’s never been this rough with you.

“good hurt?” softie changbin made a quick appearance in that question.

“really good. want them to know i’m your baby.” you pouted leaning in to get a kiss from changbin, hearing him chuckle and indulge you for a second.

“still not getting out of it.” he growled against your lips, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your underwear and then ripping them off you completely.

the force of the fabrics edge dug into your skin and burned but that didn’t even phase you as much as changbin purposely putting them in his backseat.

“let them find your soaked panties tomorrow huh?” changbin smirked and if you weren’t bright red already you were now.

you were panting, your core aching for changbin to do something to you, at this point you didn’t care what it was. you just needed him.

“how cute. who made you this horny slut? me or hyunjin?” changbin teased you, this was really coming to bite you in the ass.

“you sir. only you.” you quickly responded, grabbing onto changbin’s hand and bringing it to your core, pushing his fingers into your folds, letting him fully feel how much he effected you.

“only sir makes me this wet.” you panted, pushing his fingers closer to your cunt, wanting to feel something filling you up. “need you.”

“need me huh?” changbin smirked, pulling your hand away harshly with his free one, his fingers roaming on their own, the obscene squelch filling the silence in the car.

“changbin…” you moaned, your hands going to brace yourself on his shoulders, hips rocking against his hand.

“try again.” he growled again reminding you, quickly pushing two fingers inside you, making you bend forward and lean your head into changbin’s shoulder.

“sir…” you gasped, clumsily grasping onto his shirt, trying to find purchase on something to ground you. “need you please. i’m sorry.” you begged.

changbin didn’t reply to your desperate begging, only curling his fingers over and over inside your cunt rapidly, basking in the sounds he could get out of you. noises only he heard, just for him.

“fuck!” you cursed, unknowingly grinding your pussy down onto his fingers, trying to push yourself closer to your orgasm.

“you’re lucky i like hearing you moan like a little slut for me so much, otherwise i’d just edge you all night.” changbin sounded so calm, so stern, though his throbbing dick in his trousers would show otherwise.

“sir no!” you gasped, looking changbin in the eyes with a look of desperation and lust. “please please please.” you panted, your grinding and his fingers both speeding up, his thumb going to rub circles on your clit.

“so needy.” changbin commented, his grip on your thigh tightening the more you got closer to your orgasm. you didn’t even feel it because you were in such bliss.

“cum.” changbin ordered and you were instantly climaxing on his fingers, back arching over the steering wheel, hands gripping tightly onto his shirt.

“fuck! changbin!” you screamed, not seeing the look of adoration and pride he was giving you, too far gone for him to notice.

you were panting as changbin slowed his pace of his fingers inside you, expecting him to pull them out, wipe them on his shirt and redress you.

“oh you thought we were done, baby?” changbin chuckled, the quick pace of his fingers inside you resuming, persistently pressing against the spot inside you only he could seem to find.

“binnie..” you whined, feeling tears start to well in your eyes. you could feel your second orgasm begin to start crashing upon you, not sure if you could even take it.

“my little slut can take it, can’t you?” changbin mocked you and you simply whimpered, hands trying to get him to slow down a little.

“color?”

“g-green! fuck!” you quickly replied, thighs starting to shaking in his grasp, his nails digging into your flesh, sure to leave marks behind.

“one more for sir yeah? two for how many members you flirted with tonight, hmm?” changbin kept rambling, thumb going back to rub your clit just right.

“c-can’t.” you whined loudly, anyone outside the car sure to hear you. you felt your second climax oncoming regardless.

“oh but you can.” changbin told you. “you fucking will, slut.” he growled, pulling you by the collar of your shirt into a fiery kiss.

your head was spinning, the taste of changbin on your tongue, his fingers inside you and gripping your thigh. it was all too much, but just enough.

changbin barely pushed you away, your lips still grazing each other as he began to speak. “cum.” he ordered once more.

“changbin! fuck!” you gasped, thighs shaking, tears finally escaping your eyes and your release soaking changbin’s hand.

“good baby.” he whispered to you as you came down from euphoria, petting your head gently with his free hand, slowly pulling his fingers out of as petted you.

“forgiven?” you asked him once you got your breathing settled again, sitting onto his lap to rest.

“was never mad. a little jealous, yes, but not mad.” changbin told you, wiping away the tears that fell during your second orgasm.

“should make you jealous more often.” you giggled as he was pulling your pants back up and into place.

“get in your seat you little brat.” changbin chuckled, actually amused by you now.

you just giggled and got back into the passenger seat of his car, watching him pull his seat back to where it was and restarting the car.

“binnie. you’re hard.” you pointed out, seeing a faint blush on his cheeks. “want me to take care of it back at the dorm so they know who you belong to?” you giggled, throwing his jealously fueled words right back at him.

“brat.” changbin scoffed, pulling back onto the road, seriously thinking about taking you up on that offer.

[dreamsgazer]

Football time! [teaser]

Work in progress, hope I will be able to post the full thing soon!!!

Tangerine X Plus Size Female Character

--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->

Tangerine is singing.

He is fucking singing! She looks at him in delighted disbelief: her boyfriend is standing with a hundred or more of grown-up men actually pouring his heart in a song for his football team.

This view alone is worthy spending a Sunday sitting on a cold, plastic seat in a football stadium.

A place which she has never thought she was going to visit, truth to be told.

Ah, the things we do for love indeed, she smirks, rubbing her hands together to warm them a bit. She considers taking a quick video to send to Lemon, even if probably he has witnessed the scene in person dozens of times. And probably he was standing and singing as well. 

That day so far has been full of surprises.

First of all, Tangerine is actually wearing an outfit that is not an exquisitely tailored suit. It still looks almost outrageously expensive for being a tracksuit, but if a thing like an elegant sporty outfit exists, Tangerine is definitely rocking it. So well it’s almost striking, she thinks in admiration. 

However, it’s not that that makes her bit her lips to avoid laughing - she has the feeling that would hurt his feelings. No, what is incredible is that over his dark red coat and black jeans, he is proudly wearing a maroon, blue, and yellow scarf with a huge crest on it. She has tried not to let her jaw hit the parking floor when he has fished out of his pocket two wool caps, with the same colors and adorned with the embroidered crest of the West Ham United football team.

He has wore the first, and affectionately pressed the second on her head.

“Perfect, I knew it!” he has nodded, checking her “I knew that a face as pretty as yours would have damn rocked our colors! You look fantastic!”

“You do,” she has chuckled, adjusting the hat “I am not so sure how I look!”

“Then trust me, love, you looking fucking gorgeous!”.

The second surprise has been not heading for the VIP tribune, but one of the side tribunes.

A couple - maybe even more -  of girls have already oogle at him multiple times, and while she isn’t perfectly content with that, she can’t find the strength to blame them. She does feel a pang of embarrassment when she catches the shocked glare they send her. They must have realized she is with him. In a romantical way, not as the chubby sister or the overweight friend without benefits. They are strangers and their opinions don’t - shouldn’t - count, but they sure hurt. 

Luckily, Tangerine is too busy singing about bubbles to realize her enthusiasm has a bit diminished. She straightens her shoulders, glad she has a bit of time to shut down the unpleasant thoughts those women have evoked with their blatant disbelief.

"I know it must be looking fucking stupid,” he mutters with no trace of shame as soon as the song is over and they are waiting for the team to arrive, a widespread grring lighting up his face “but I am not going to apologize, love.”

"I wasn’t thinking it looked stupid,” she shakes her head, her long ponytail bunching on her burgundy coat - don’t wear anything blue, darling! “I was thinking how wonderful it is that you are able to relax and have so much fun!"

His grin widens making his nose scrunch lightly, and she can’t resist quickly kissing his cheek. Someone behind them whistles, making her chuckle. He laughs too, surprisingly, while amicably flipping off whoever did it. He presses his lips to hers, an affectionate peck that makes her wish he has lingered a little longer "Glad you are here, love. Just tell me if it becomes too much, ok?"

Becomes too much? A football match? Granted, it’s her first one, but she doesn’t think she can be overwhelmed by some strangers cheering for their team! Sometimes Tangerine is just too overprotective, that’s it.

Turns out, she has been wrong.

[ethereousdelirious]

Idk what happened, I just fucking snapped and wrote unabashed fluffy fever kink for P.onyo's parents??? Oh to be an androgynous sea wizard, feverish and loved in a woman's arms *sigh*

And I do mean Po.nyo. The uh. The Gh.ibli movie. Yeah, idk either. I haven't seen it in forever idk where this came from

Anyway, enjoy the fluff ;) Brush your teeth after reading so you don't get cavities

In hindsight, she should have known better. It wasn't like Granmamare to worry, but she was usually not so naive as to be carefree. Blame it on the shakeup of the past few days, blame it on the humans grounding their boats on an unexpected sandbar. All things Fujimoto would have told her if he could.

It didn't occur to her to visit until a day or so had passed. She watched the same sun as humans did, abided by the same cycle of moon and stars, but the passage of time meant less to her. How could it mean anything when the oceans contained life that grew imperceptibly over thousands of years?

It was the silence that finally stirred her to action. Her dearest was never still, always alight with nervous energy even when he was exhausted. He would tap his toes as he worked, his lower lip finding its way between his teeth until he sometimes made himself bleed, and his clever fingers would tangle up in his hair or the hem of his shirt. Fujimoto was never still, not even in sleep.

But he was still now.

His golden work lights lit the scene, casting gentle shadows about the space. They pulsed with the movement of the water outside the windows. Safe in their bubble, the children slept. Granmamare spared a moment to smile at them even as an unfamiliar pang of worry threatened the serenity at her core. In her domain, there were few things outside her control. Fujimoto was one of them, which was part of the reason she adored him so much. But this was no thrill of the unknown, no pleasurable frisson across her skin. This was a slow, creeping dread that echoed in the silence: a frantic pounding heartbeat.

She made her way through the wrecked room and even then couldn't help the glow of fondness that warmed her at the half-formed piles of displaced equipment. Ponyo's doing, no doubt. It soothed her a little as she walked along, though her progress was slowed by the weaving path she had to take. She imagined her beloved dashing back and forth between the stacks, tripping over his own feet in his haste to have everything back in working order. Even in immortality, Fujimoto had never seemed to grasp the concept of relaxation.

She found him in a corner, tucked between a shelf and a wall. It wasn't a tight fit, but it was a cozy one. He sat motionless but for the shivers that wracked him, his coral-colored hair cascading down his shoulders like so many waves. His face was covered, buried in his drawn-up knees. The sharp salt tang of his breath was at once familiar and foreign, reminiscent of the sea and yet out of place. It was a sick, unhealthy scent, heavy with pain and misery.

Granmamare's heart ached for her beloved. She knelt and reached out for him, pale fingertips brushing one trembling shoulder.

Fever.

She couldn't help but gasp when she felt it, sparing a guilty glance over her shoulder to see if she had woken their daughters. They slept on, serene in their nursery, so she turned back to her beloved. How long had it been since she had seen him like this? He hated these painful reminders of his heritage, the blood of humanity flowing through his veins. Burning him up.

Fujimoto needed rest, but not like this. Granmamare would have to wake him and move him, dismissing all his weak protests. She smiled faintly in anticipation of this and ran her hand through his tangled hair. "Darling," she whispered, fingertips already burning with the heat he was generating. "It's time to wake up."

He jolted, still brimming with nervous energy even when he was so ill, and then gave her a look of tenderest apology, remorse that he had flinched away from her sacred touch. "Love," he whispered, but she stopped him with a finger to the lips. He closed his eyes, forehead creasing, breath coming fast and hot through his nose.

"All is well," she murmured, smoothing his hair back. It was damp at the temples. "Come."

She held out her arms to take him, intending to carry him, but he shook his head. "I won't leave them." His voice was hoarse but firm, his bright eyes fixed on the nursery.

"Come to bed, my love. I will watch over them."

"But I…" Confusion and horror bloomed in Granmamare's chest as Fujimoto's eyes filled with tears. He never cried. He really wasn't in his right mind. "I can't let them slip away."

"They're asleep, my love. You did well. You put them to bed." Indeed, it seemed the last action that Fujimoto had taken before succumbing to exhaustion had been to ensure the safety of their children. They were all accounted for, all dreaming, all safe within their nursery. "You can rest now." She held out her arms to him again, sighing when he shifted into her embrace. His fever raged against her skin at their points of contact, his forehead burning against her neck. "Oh, my dear," she sighed, picking him up easily.

"I love you," he murmured. Hot breath and hot tears tickled the side of her neck. "I love you, I love you." He shivered in her arms, a parody of the nervous energy that always thrummed beneath his skin.

Oh, he wasn't well. Her poor darling. Burning up in her arms, his words fading away to an incoherent mutter and flames of kisses along her collarbone. "Shh, darling." She found a chair and turned it with one foot so she could face the nursery, lowering herself into it as gently as waves brushed sandy shores on a clear day.

He wouldn't relax. Even with his head pillowed against her breasts, their legs tangled, he shifted and shook, flames in his cheeks. "Marry me," he said once, the words rising out of a tangle of incoherent sentiments of devotion.

"Relax, my dear." She ran her hands over what parts of his body she could reach. It calmed him some, but no amount of petting would get him to lie still. Sweat beaded on his brow and dampened his salt-brittle hair, hot tears streaming in rivulets down his cheeks and drying, sticky, on her own skin.

In their bubble, the children were starting to stir. None of them were awake yet, but a few of them rolled and twitched in their sleep, white bellies gleaming gold in the gentle light. Granmamare felt her eyes widen. Fujimoto would never forgive himself if he knew he'd woken them, not that they (or Granmamare, for that matter) would mind. But it was his way to fret and blame himself. So the children would have to remain asleep.

Unfortunately, the sea was starting to react to their combined turmoil: Fujimoto feverish and agitated, Granmamare unable to quell her abject concern. She had never seen him so sick before. The rush of water outside the windows became more frantic, silver bubbles wobbling toward the surface. Fujimoto made a noise of discomfort and went stiff for one long, uneasy moment.

Granmamare began to sing.

It was something Fujimoto had done when they were courting, come and sat with his feet in the water late at night and sang. He had a low, warbling voice, unconfident but somehow that much sweeter for it. His cheeks would light up bright red and he wouldn't look her in the eye until her applause faded out and she would begin to speak to him. She had learned the words to every song he knew.

Her voice filled the cavern and reverberated until the echoes of herself made a kind of chorus in the small space. Although she had feared that the uneven movement of her chest with each inhale would disturb her beloved, he lay still in her arms. His breathing slowed, his muttering dropping off into nothing. She smiled as she sang, pausing briefly to dip down and kiss the top of his head.

All was calm.

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚘𝚑"

PART 8: CAT BOYS 

... it’s late into the night and y/n is streaming with one of her new friends, sykkuno. running on caffeine and redbull is apparently not enough because she falls asleep on his shoulder 45 minutes into their cyberpunk gameplay. at that exact moment, twitter goes up in flames.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (because i was threatened by thirsty anons) ─── soc. media + written fiction!  ─── word count: 1.8k author’s note: here it is...what yall been asking for. literally had to add a new part for this but i loved this idea sm i couldnt just nOT NOT do it. i tried writing this with the same energy as the smau lmao so expect chaos as always. hope you enjoy it and as always lmk what u think! hopefully yall wont go too feral, but tbh thats prolly too much to ask for xx EDIT: srr for the fucky format tumbler dot com is being lame 

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.   ҉   next.

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Such a back and forth continues for the better part of the day as you get ready. Corpse only whines a bit when you forget to text him back - you are packing, and your prestigious cat ears you bought from Amazon for 10$ deserve exquisite care - which only fuels your seemingly bottomless hunger for mischief, leading to you sneakily ignoring him more. When your phone lights up with a message, you giggle, giddy with excitement. Your laughter only gets louder and more erratic, to the point where Rae had busted down your door and threw her Hello Kitty plush at you - one you’d gotten her, mind you! - and told you to just “Shut the fuck up!”

Ungrateful. You know not everyone can appreciate your sense of humor, or stand your hyena like cackle, but that was uncalled for and you told her as much. Noting the mess your room is in (more than usual, that’s for certain), she leans onto the door frame, crossing her arms over her chest, pretty brown eyes twinkling curiously, “Where you off to?”

“So I had this idea-” You start, but are promptly shut down with a raise of her palm.

“Already know it’s a bad one.”

Insulted, and hurt, you clutch your heart. As if she had not mocked you enough today, “Rae...The hell, that’s so mean...” You mutter, face scrunching into a soft frown, “I only wanted to tell you what me and Syk thought of.”

“Oh?” Intrigued, she raises a brow, “Continue.”

“Gee, thanks for letting me this time.” You mumble, rolling your eyes, “So. We thought we’d stream together. The catch? In the same room! We’ll be playing Cyberpunk. Gotta cash in while the hype is still up.” You add, making her snort, “And, ya know, the whole cat boy business...We’ll be wearing matching cat ears. Admit it, I’m a genius.”

She’s quiet for a moment, mulling over your words; you can practically see the gears in her head turning. She glances around the room, then briefly at you, strangely apprehensive. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Well, that is definitely not what you expected her to say. You figured it’d be more along the lines of you’d be one ugly cat. “Huh?” Is all you manage to stutter, “What do you mean?”

She gives you a look, one all people give when something is so plainly obvious, “Y/n. You do know the stans will go wild, right? And you do remember our conversation involving Corp-”

“Nope!” You exclaim cheerily with a bright smile to match. You don’t want to think about that. The relationship between you and Corpse is strictly platonic, and besides, seeing Twitter loosing their shit is always funny, and you never miss an opportunity to mess with your fans. Sykkuno is also a good friend, albeit a new one. This supposed flirting from Corpse’s end Rae deduced was nothing more than her projecting her feelings onto the situation. She always liked shoujo anime and was probably thinking one was happening right in front of her. Not a chance. Corpse was just being a friendly crackhead. Your energies mesh beautifully.

Like, beautifully in a strictly friend way. Absolutely nothing more than that.

She gives up, naturally, arguing with a wall would be more productive than arguing with you. You’re such a (Zodiac sign).

“Well,” She mumbles, ticking her head to the side, leaning off of the door frame and turning to leave, “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Your grin melts as soon as she leaves. Glancing at your bag, you shove your last necessities in with newfound hesitance. 

Nothing bad will happen, right?

...Right?

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It is well past the generally set “appropriate” time to hang out, but since quarantine, what is appropriate anymore anyway? You’ve never been in Sykkuno’s apartment, but now that you’re here it’s...strangely him. Every corner seems tailored to his specific requirements. It’s cozy, and pleasantly warm - it’s a bit chilly in LA, as surprising as that is.

He’s even shyer than you remember him being. And a whole lot more awkward, but in an endearing way, a way that makes you want to laugh and try to reassure him that it’s just you and he has nothing to worry about. While you hung out only once, the history you share is rich and tender. From him following you on Twitter and subsequently prematurely ending your stream, to kidnapping a stray cat affectionately named Juan. His long lost brother, Juan (no the Second, just Juan), lives in your Minecraft server. 

His stream room is sadly bare. There’s an appalling lack of merch or fairy lights. Not even led-lights. It’s a good thing you brought your own. As you try to decided which color would be best - his signature lime green, reminiscent of his adorable Among Us astronaut, or, perhaps, mischievous violet? - he boots the game and tweets out a quick “streaming with y/n in ten mins! come one come all!” 

“You should probably tell your fans, too.” He mumbles, looking somewhere above your shoulder. You settle with cherry blossom pink. Glancing at him, you shrug.

“Ah, do it for me, please?”

“Oh!” He hiccups, “Uhm, I wouldn’t want to pry and I don’t know your password and-”

“It doesn’t have a password.” You had removed it, knowing something like this would happen. Bless your foresight, you did not want him to know it was demonspiitinmymouth. Before he could protest further, you rush to the nearest mirror to put on your cat ears and make sure they aren’t crooked. You look absolutely adorable. The cat boys in your dms will go feral. Hell, you might just go feral looking at yourself! Sykkuno is not ready. No one is. This will be a stream to remember.

When you return (with flourish of course), he’s anxiously fidgeting by his computer, his own little cat ears, one’s he wore for the Halloween stream, peaking out from his silky brown hair. You have to suppress a squeal. When he catches you gaze he gives the kindest, sweetest little smile.

“They, uh--” He points at you, then decides it’s rude to point, bringing his hand back to his lap, then clutching his mouse, lastly releasing a sound stuck between a chuckle and a wheeze, “suit you, uhm, a lot!” He finishes with a resolute nod, quickly spinning in his chair and away from you.

This is the reaction you desired. All is going according to plan. Is this what God feels like? If not, then you pity her. She’s missing out.

Taking a seat next to him - he had been gracious enough to haul you a spare chair from the kitchen - you draw closer, and he, instinctively, shrinks away with another nervous chuckle. 

“You have, uhm... I-I didn’t look!” He quickly chimes. You raise a brow, “Uhm, unopened messages? From Corpse? He texted you when I was tweeting! I didn’t mean to look, I’m sorry-”

Instantly, you recall the famous vine with the scandalous “daddy chill” line, though refrain from saying it aloud. You love havoc, but you’re not evil (Rae would ardently disagree with you, though). Instead, you just shrug, “’S fine, don’t worry. I’ll text him back later. Let’s start?”

He nods, but doesn’t look at you. Granted, you don’t think he glanced at you even once since you returned, “...Okay. Ready?”

“Ready!”

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You’re much too immersed into the game and Sykkuno’s twitch chat to even check what’s happening on Twitter, but your estimated guess is that everyone’s going crazy. The stream chat is unruly as well, but missing the signature Twitter spark. Most of the chaos is bravely lead by your fans. Sykkuno’s, much like the man himself, are too nice to scream so unabashedly.

Perhaps you excitement had been a bit too taxing, perhaps drinking 5 coffees and 2 energy drinks today and not enough water are to blame for the sudden drowsiness you’re feeling, but you can’t focus on the swimming chat or the abundance of cut-scenes at the starting point of the game. You steadily draw nearer and he, more composed in front of his audience, doesn’t react. About ten more minutes of hoovering by his shoulder and muttering soft commentary, and you feel yourself slipping.

The last coherent thought you have is a few choice words directed at caffeine itself for having the opposite effect of you at the worst time possible.

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You float in oblivion for perhaps ten minutes at best. Once you awake with a startle, you shower Sykkuno in shy apologies and he quickly reassures you that it’s fine and that he didn’t mind at all!

“Though,” He adds after a thoughtful pause, “not sure if it was very, uh, comfortable?”

His stream chat spams uwu and variations of similar kind. The stream continues for a few more hours before the both of you wish everyone a good night. 

While you planned on wreaking absolute havoc, this sudden falling asleep was unexpected. You pondered the consequences of such an innocent, unplanned act whilst ubering home, fearing to check your phone which by now was blowing up with not only Twitter notifications but also Rae’s angry messages that vaguely read “what the fuck y/n”. Within the past two hours she had left 57 messages on all platforms collectively, including 7 calls. 

Corpse’s last text was over three hours ago.

Now that’s strange. Worry festers quickly. Briefly glancing at your surroundings - the pretty glimmer of passing street lights, neon signs, familiar buildings - you decide that it’s time to check what kind of nuclear explosion you’ve caused.

Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as you scroll past the hundreds of tweets and mentions. Scan through Rae’s messages. 

You had failed to prepare ahead. Every explosion of such kind is followed by nuclear winter. And Corpse’s lack of messages feels especially cold.

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Not you smiling like a fucking idiot reading his last message! You shrink into the backseat, afraid the driver will accidentally look into the rear-view mirror and see you a bit too happy before asking questions. Good news? Yeah, but it’s not like it’s his any beeswax! In the words of Rihanna, just shut up and drive. 

This argument had not yet happened, but you’re preparing, just in case. 

As you think up of potential scenarios, your eyes drill into Corpse’s goodnight text. You’ve looked at it enough. Time to turn the phone screen off. Leave the app, at the very least. When the screen dims you instantly press on it to wake it up. This is embarrassing. Maybe the deadly amount of caffeine really did mess you up, big time. Your heart races in your chest, painfully almost. You feel a bit sick. Worst of all, you can’t stop smiling.

A notification from Rae makes you snap out of it. Ah, one more demon to deal with. 

However, before you talk to her, you really need to tell Twitter that you’re not with Sykkuno. And apologize to Sykkuno as well. 

At least Corpse doesn’t hate you.

Fucking hell, just exit the chat you idiot!

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging, nor promoting mafia behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Suggestive themes but nothing too explicit, scenes containing violence and kidnappings.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Hongjoong could already sense that something was off the moment he noticed the door wasn't locked and even more worrying was the fact it was slightly ajar. Quickly taking out his gun just in case, he kicked open the door and widened his eyes as it appeared like some struggle took place. Chairs were turnt over, busted picture frames and glass scattered across the floor, and even more terrifying, droplets of blood were seen.

"Y/N!" He quickly remembered about his spouse.

Running into the bedroom, it was in an even bigger disarray than the living room. On the bed, there was a note folded for him to read. Carefully opening it with trembling hands, his eyes took in each letter. Furiously, he crumbled up the paper and quickly dialed his most trusted friend.

"Get the squad ready."

Although you expected that sooner or later you'd be targeted just for the fact you were married to Hongjoong, nothing could have prepared you for it. After all, Hongjoong didn't seem to care much about you, treating your marriage strictly like a business deal and hardly interacting with you. It wouldn't have surprised you if he didn't even care enough to show up and save you.

But you were wrong when he broke in himself and got you safely out of there, despite having suffered quite a few injuries that had you worrying.

"Stop fretting over it, it's just a scratch." He told you when you tried to wipe the blood trickling down the side of his head wound.

"I'm sorry......you're hurt because I-"

"No one is to blame here but me. I chose to go after you and rescue you because I wanted to. If anything, I should be apologizing for getting you in this situation in the first place."

Sighing softly, you tugged at the dirtied sleeves of your shirt.

"It's not like it's really your fault. We were thrown together and naturally they thought they could get the upper hand if they captured me. And to be honest.....you didn't have to save me. I know you don't care about-"

With a loud gasp, you shut up when Hongjoong unexpectedly sat up and kissed you. You were stunned to react and even more shocked by his next words.

"I always cared. And that's precisely why you were kidnapped. From the start, I acted as if I didn't care about you to protect you. They would have never taken you if they thought that I had no regards for you whatsoever. However, I obviously couldn't hide my feelings that well, given the taunting letter they left me. As soon as I read it, I knew I had to get you back to me as soon as possible."

Kissing the top of your forehead, Hongjoong smiled at you for the first time in your marriage life.

"And I'm happy to take you back to our home, where you rightfully belong."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Putting the finishing touches on your makeup and fixing your hair, you beamed with joy at your reflection in the mirror. You felt truly beautiful and walked out into the living room, where your handsome husband was currently on his phone, no doubt talking about some business things with Hongjoong. He seemed to always be busy, never having any time for anything else.

Including you, which somewhat hurt you.

"I'm ready." You told him, shyly tucking some of your hair behind your ear as you hoped he'd like the dress you were wearing, choosing a blue color since you knew it was his favorite.

"Ok. Go wait out in the limousine, I'll be there shortly."

Barely even giving you a glance, he dialed Hongjoong up and continued to further discuss some matters. Sighing softly, you walked rather disappointed out to the car, slamming the door behind you. When Seonghwa joined you a few minutes later, you didn't even care to hide your anger and frustration at him. You still had a scowling look on your face when you arrived at the party, not bothering this time to stick by Seonghwa's side like you usually did other times, playing the role of a perfect and loving wife. And Seonghwa neither noticed nor cared about it. In fact, he never really hid how little your marriage seemed to matter to him. Perhaps he treated it as any other business he owned.

"Such a pity to see such a beautiful lady look so down during such a lovely evening."

Recognizing the voice as Minho, a friend of Seonghwa, you forced a small smile.

"Not really much to be happy about really." You merely stated.

"Is your oh so loving hubby being the usual prince charming he is?" He rolled his eyes, knowing full well just like everyone else how he really treated you.

"What difference does it make? He'll never even look at me."

Unable to let the opportunity go to waste, even if it was his friend, Minho gently caressed your cheek.

"You know....... maybe you should stop trying so hard for a jerk like him....and maybe open your eyes to someone who actually knows you exist."

You were frozen when he leaned in to kiss you, then gasped loudly when none other than Seonghwa pushed him off you, sending Minho crashing onto one of the tables behind him.

"She is my wife! And the next time you touch her, I will cut your hand off!" He warned him.

You didn't even have time to process what was happening as Seonghwa dragged you outside, his grip on your wrist tight and fierce. When you reached the car, you were going to ask him what was going on but you had no time as he pressed you against the car and began to kiss you fervently and hungrily. You were left speechless and breathless, with your legs getting weak as he let out low snarls in between his kisses on your neck.

"Mine.......you're all mine."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Both Yunho and you were beyond nervous at this point, hell you actually felt somewhat terrified. You knew exactly what his parents wanted when they organized this 'family vacation'. This wasn't a getaway to spend time together and they made it obviously clear at dinner when you came back from the bathroom and overheard him arguing with his parents.

"You know I can't ask her to do that!" Yunho adamantly said.

"You've been married for over a year Yunho. It's time and you know it." His mother insisted.

"I will not impregnate her. Have you ever considered her feelings? Maybe she doesn't want kids. Maybe I don't want kids, have you ever thought of that?" He asked them, voice getting more agitated.

"It's both of your duties to produce heirs to keep control and stability in the organization. Your life is at risk on a daily basis. If you die with no children it'll only cause chaos and disruption." His father reminded him.

That was the one thing you dreaded facing since the day you said "I do", having to be forced to become nothing more than a baby maker. Yunho knew from the beginning how uncomfortable you were during your first night together, that's why he ended up sleeping in another room, as he had done every day afterwards, not wanting you to freak out and giving you your space.

But now you both stared at the single king sized bed in your hotel room, reality staring you in the face. Neither of you said a word as you took turns changing and getting ready to go to sleep in the bathroom, Yunho letting you go first. As you crept into the bed, your hands tightly held onto the blanket, your eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, unaware of anything until you felt the bed shift next to you. You inhaled sharply when you felt Yunho's fingers caress your hair.

"Y/N-"

"Just get it over with will you?! Just knock me up and make your parents happy. I don't care anymore."

Although you tried to sound strong, the tremble in your voice gave you away. You could feel tears starting to well up in your eyes. When Yunho moved to hover above you, you instantly shut your eyes, tears lightly spilling out. You could feel his breath ghost over your lips and then suddenly they moved as he planted the gentlest of kiss on your forehead.

"Good night my dear. I promise I won't take up too much space."

Confused you open your eyes and watched as Yunho turned on his side, facing away from you as he scooted to give you as much room as he possibly could.

"I don't...I don't understand why..." You didn't even know what you were asking at this point.

"I'm not going to be that asshole that will make you do something you're not prepared for. I respect, value and admire you too much to make you go through that. I'll just wait until you're ready."

You weren't going to deny that your heart fluttered at his words.

"But your parents-"

"They can suck it. I've lived this long, I think I'll be fine. They can wait like I'm willing to wait. The only downside is putting up with their bullshit and nagging for disobeying them...."

You could tell he was falling asleep by the way his voice started to mumble and lower in tone, and his tiny yawn made it more obvious. You were prepared for his cute tiny rambling but you didn't expect what he said next.

"But that's what I get for falling in love with you..."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang stared out the spacious window of his office, the glittering city lights looking as splendid as they did every night, bustling with sounds of the inhabitants coming out to party and overall enjoy life. They seemed to be mocking him, mocking him for being happy while he felt miserable and empty inside.

It had been hours since you had already left, your plane had probably already landed back to your hometown and you were now ready to settle into your new life....away from him. He couldn't stop replaying the argument you had just a day ago:

"Can't you at least pretend to care?" You spat out, dropping your fork against the plate of food in front of you.

"If you know what I'm like, why even ask?" Was his only reply.

"Yes I know what you're like! You're cold, stoic, soulless and have no regards for anyone's feelings but your own! Being married to you all these years, I know you better than anyone! But I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you not caring enough to even try." She could feel her voice starting to crack.

Letting out a deep sigh, Yeosang pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"From the beginning, you knew what you were getting in to. We didn't get married because we were a couple of lovestruck fools wanting to vow our lives to each other. Our parents arranged it and we had no choice. If you were stupid enough to catch feelings well then..."

Finally lifting his gaze to look at you, his eyes were unwavering as he coldly declared:

"That's not my fault. And you can't expect me to reciprocate your feelings when I don't even have any to begin with."

Not taking anymore, you began crying tears of heartbreak, anger, frustration and indignation all at the same time. Standing up, you firmly declared your intent of going back home, not willing to put up or stay with him anymore.

"Ok."

Not even a goodbye, a farewell or even another look at you. Those were his final words before you stormed out and made preparations to leave as soon as possible. Yeosang had spent the entire day pacing back and forth, unable to think or do anything except look at the clock almost every hour. He had been counting the seconds since your flight was scheduled to leave, that's how he knew you were home by then.

He cursed himself for being a coward. For not speaking up and telling you how much you actually meant to him, how scared he was of his feelings for you, and most of all, he hated himself for not running out to stop you. Now you were gone from his life forever........ unless....

"Get my plane ready."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San and you didn't even meet each other until you were both standing at the altar, families ready to join together two criminal organizations to grow their power even further. Both of you looked at each and instantly felt what the other was feeling: shock, denial, insecurity, but most of all, fear. Both of you were afraid of what was going to happen. Though he was trembling just as much as you, San made sure to reach for your hand, squeezing it in his own. With that small gesture, you knew and felt what he was silently saying:

"We're going to get through this together. Just trust me and believe in me. I'll take care of you. You're not alone in this and I'll be right there by your side."

You two got along fairly well, even if there was still awkwardness between the two of you. You were both also still shy around each other that you wouldn't talk unless it was necessary or because something caught one or the other's attention and wanted to share their thoughts out loud, which the other one would try to enthusiastically add on to converse more, but it always ended in awkward laughter.

Yeah. It was extremely awkward. But at least there was no hostility between you two and you guys did enjoy watching movies together at times, hardly speaking a word, but there was no silence at all. You could read each other's minds and feelings all the time. It was truly strange how in tune your thoughts seemed to be at times and scary too. Your mind began to recall times when strange things happened like the time you were craving a certain food and coincidentally, San came later with the exact same food because he got a feeling you wanted some. Or the time you were supposed to go visit extended family but in the end didn't get on the train and went straight home because you felt San needed you. He thought you were crazy, but later that night he was burning up with a fever and you spent your weekend nursing him back to health.

"What did this all mean?" You both thought to yourselves.

"A soulmate is someone that just gets you. It's a connection of minds, a mutual respect, an unconditional love and a total understanding. It's about being yourself and knowing, not only that person is following and understanding your thoughts, but is right there with you, side by side." The actress in the movie you were watching said.

Suddenly everything seemed to click. At the moment both of you felt like the answer to your questions were finally answered. Slowly you both turned and faced one another. Giving you a warm smile as he read your thoughts, San leaned in to cup your cheek with one hand, his thumb drawing circles around it. Brushing his lips against yours, he sighed blissfully as he looked in your eyes.

"My lovely soulmate..."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

When Mingi met you, he was sort of put off by how different you were from him.

"Hi! I'm Y/N, your soon to be wife but please don't think of me as that if you don't want to. Think of me as your friend. I just know we'll get along!"

You were actually squealing and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, almost bouncing up and down with joy while Mingi just stood there stiff as a pole, wondering what the hell made you be so happy and cheerful like that.

"Ok.....ok got it, you can let go now." He tried to squirm out of your embrace, but you merely tightened your grip on him causing him to let out a harsh "oof!" at your strength.

"For such a tiny person, you sure aren't weak." He pointed out.

Married life with you for Mingi was...... different to say the least. He was used to such a gloomy, dark and hostile environment that having a tiny bubble bursting with energy was unusual and not something he was accustomed to. You always greeted him with such enthusiasm and happiness, not to mention you were such a caring housewife, always feeding him and taking care of him. Sometimes Mingi questioned whether you've ever seen the harsh side of the mafia world. Judging by your love for life and others, he guessed no.

And his assumptions were correct when you both were at a party held by some of his other mafia friends. Taking advantage of the occasion, rival gangs infiltrated the building. Storming in, explosions went off in several places, and gun shots were being fired at all directions. Mingi quickly jumped up and tackled you onto the ground, covering your body from the bullets that were being poured out. Taking your hand, he told you to stay down as he safely guided you out of the hall. Once you guys were far away, he quickly sprung up, pulling you up with him as he began running towards the nearest exit, pulling out his hidden gun just in case. You were in shock, even more when you guys passed a couple of dead bodies in the hallway. Feeling sick, you don't even remember how Mingi managed to get you both out of there alive and in one piece before the entire place burst into flames. Staring at the raging fire, you felt like you couldn't breathe, desperately trying to gasp for air.

"Honey, look at me. Look at me ok? You're safe. You're all right and you're going to be all right. Nothing is going to happen to you ok?"

You nodded, trying to choke back tears and forcing a smile on your face, but ultimately failing. Seeing you break down, Mingi immediately pulled you into his arms, his fingers running through your hair as he felt his heart break. You were such a fragile, sensitive and extremely precious person to him. He couldn't bear to see his ray of sunshine and hope in his dark world break down in front of him. He knew had to protect you at all costs and take care of you.

"It's ok my darling angel. I won't let any harm come to you. I swear on my life I'll protect you."

Wiping your tears away, he kissed the top of your head and smiled warmly at you.

"Come on. I'll take you home and have one of those cuddling sessions you always enjoy having."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

You wanted to die, and that wasn't an understatement. You felt utterly humiliated at the fact your parents actually sold you into marriage to some mafia lord's son to pay off their debts. You didn't even have time to process anything, one day you were just bound and stuffed into the back of a car and soon found yourself inside a grand old mansion. You felt alone and scared, unsure of what was going to happen to you. And you were beyond trembling when you met your future husband, expecting some evil and sadistic man when in reality:

"Hi! I'm Jung Wooyoung, your soon to be husband and I can tell we're going to be really happy together!"

He greeted you with just a charismatic enthusiasm, eyes practically beaming when he first saw you.

"Hi, I'm L/N Y/N, the girl that's going to be caged to you for life......or death. Whichever comes first."

He laughed at that, coming closer and squeezed your cheeks.

"You're so cute, I'm already in love with you."

Love? You seriously thought he was insane. You certainly didn't fall in love with him at first sight. And even after months of being married to him, you still didn't felt love towards him, even though Wooyoung tried anything and everything to not only make life easier for you, but in hopes of getting you to reciprocate his feelings.

"Hey Y/N. Look! I got you a present! Open it. I know you'll love it."

You groaned at the thought of another expensive present being given to you. You felt bad that he went through all these troubles when they'd all end in vain. Peeling the ribbon off the huge box, you didn't even get to open the box since the Welsh Corgi inside jumped out and tackled you to the ground. You couldn't help but giggle when it began licking your face, its tail wagging out of joy.

"I knew you'd like him. Now he can keep you company so you won't be lonely while I'm gone."

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't let the opportunity pass to poke fun at him.

"Who said I was even going to miss you?" You chuckled, petting the dog's head.

"You never know." Wooyoung insisted.

Leaving you for 5 months, you couldn't believe you actually started to miss his obnoxiously loud presence. Sure your puppy kept you complaining and cuddled you, but it wasn't the same. You hated to admit it....

But you actually wanted Wooyoung to come back and smother you with what you always referred to as his annoying affection.

Opening the front door, Wooyoung called out that he was home. He smiled when he was greeted by his furry friend rather enthusiastically. But he was not expecting for you to run out and jump at him, your arms wrapping around his neck. Although he stumbled slightly, he made sure to catch you, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Y/N are you-?"

He widened his eyes when you crashed your lips on his, kissing him as if your life depended on it. Once getting over the shock, he had a smug grin as he kissed you back.

"Told you you'd miss me."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho terrified you. From day one, you were intimidated by him. He always had a blank expression, hardly talked and he had a reputation for being brutally strong. Obviously you felt like you were walking on eggshells around him, afraid to piss him off. Anytime he called out to you or came near you, your body would jump.

"Y/N..."

Shrieking, you turned around when you felt his hand brush against your lower back. Tilting his head, he raised an eyebrow at your reaction.

"I needed something from the cabinet."

Without breaking eye contact, his hands gripped your waist as he slightly moved you to the side, fingers digging into your skin. After having gotten what he wanted, his thumb poked your nose as he winked at you.

"Thanks doll."

You swore he was teasing you. He'd purposefully use any occasion to show off his strength to you, his favorite being cutting up wood in the yard with an axe. You couldn't help but stare at his arms that were visible due to him wearing a sleeveless shirt. When he noticed you staring, he sent a smug smile your way which caused you to blush and you immediately retreated back inside the house.

There was also the time he accidentally walked in on you changing. There you were, standing in nothing but your lacy underwear set, for some reason not embarrased or hiding yourself as Jongho inhaled deeply as his eyes raked your body. Subtly biting his lips, he apologized before reluctantly leaving the room.

Both of you were frustrated by that point, tired of the light teasing. Jongho was the one who decided to put a stop to it one night he came home from a mission. He had been badly hurt and you, worrying about him, sat him down to tend to his wounds. It was a struggle since he had to remove his shirt and you were blushing violently, eyes always looking away.

"It's ok doll. I'm your husband...you can look at me."

His hands that were holding onto your arms began caressing your elbows, subtly pulling you closer to him without you noticing until you were firmly planted on his lap.

"Do you want me my little doll?" He asked you, voice in a low whisper as his breath fanned over your lips.

"Cause I've wanted you since the first day I laid my eyes on you."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[berestweys]

Kinnporsche Rewatch - Episode 6

Summary: Fish lose their lives in tragic attack from above. Again.

Favorite Line: “Fire and I belong together. Polite but hot. Have you heard it? My slogan.”

Porsche’s Wacky Antics: Calls Kinn a moron. Keeps his lighter to himself while Kinn bangs two rocks together. Wrestles with Kinn in a creek bed. Teaches Kinn to make a spear. Reveals he’s terrified of ghosts and the dead. Throws a knife and hits a guy smack in the back of the head in the dark.

Why is Chay crying? He ain’t here.

Woe is Big: Blames himself for Khun Kinn getting kidnapped and lost in the woods, because he should have been there to protect him. Makes the mistake of sharing this with Chan, who barks at him to get back to searching and stop getting distracted by his dumb feelings. Poor Big. (Incidentally, while Big seems impervious to Chan because he’s blinded by the light of Kinn, does anyone else get the sense that Chan gets irritated with Big in a rather pointed way? If Big bothered to take off his Kinn-colored glasses he might notice that he’s had an admirer all along.)

Tankhun Highlight: Tankhun is at home rearranging his throw pillows, not out in the woods with everyone else. Kinn confesses he sometimes wonders if Tankhun is faking being crazy so he doesn’t have to be the heir. Porsche is quick to say, no yeah, kids can absolutely be traumatized like that. Heyooooo.

A Woman Speaks: Women don’t exist in the forest.

What’s Pete eating, and who prepared it for him? DRUMROLL PLEASE. He’s eating bread, gifted to him by VEGAS. I have begun yelling.

Vegas Report: Vegas is hanging out with Macau, minding his own business, wearing the hell out of a wine-red velvet shirt. He has never done one thing wrong in his entire life. I know this and I love him. He takes the opportunity to scare the shit out of Pete, who is. Not great at spying. Gives Pete and Pol bread, mosquito repellant, and oops, those condoms were for me, not you, Pete. Unless… do you want to share them with me? 

Shipping Activities

KinnPorsche: Trapped together in the wilderness, they use “the bodyguards’ rule” to make decisions. Rock paper scissors! This episode is so fucking funny on second watch, knowing Kinn could have unlocked the cuffs at any time after Porsche finds the knife. But he doesn’t. Because he likes being stuck in the woods chained to Porsche. Porsche tells Kinn he’s pretty when he smiles. They make an actual pinky promise & share their life dreams. Kinn tries to fake Porsche’s death for him. Porsche can’t leave him in danger. Kinn dives between Porsche and a bullet once again. It’s marriage.

VegasPete: Pete pretends to make out with Pol in an effort to avoid being spotted spying on Vegas during Spy Mission Number One. Vegas in turn offers courting gifts. The range of emotions Pete displays in this scene is more than one person can handle. Vegas says, and I quote, “I’m afraid you might get hungry.” THE DANCE BEGINS. HUZZAHHHHHHH

Do I care about KimChay yet? No. They are mercifully absent.

# of KimChay scenes in this episode: 0

# of KimChay scenes I watched without skipping through: 0

Kisses: Waterfall kisses are delightful, and mark the first time Porsche is sober for kissing. And later we get possibly the best KP kiss of the series: Porsche grabbing Kinn and wrapping himself around him as he gets ready to depart. He kisses him with his entire body. That moment feels real. Like, REAL.

Tits Out: Kinn and Porsche, swimming in the waterfall pool.

What’s Gun wearing? Unclear. Ask again later.

Serious Observations of Various Sorts: I offer many bows of thanks to the show for the frank discussion between Porsche and Kinn about the night they had sex, and Kinn offering a sincere apology. It’s not often we get to see characters being painfully honest, ashamed, vulnerable, and stumbling their way through saying things that really cannot go unsaid.

Have I calmed down? Oh hell no. We are deep in it now and I am increasingly manic. 

  *

Episode 1/ Episode 2/ Episode 3/ Episode 4/ Episode 5/ Episode 7

[luffles424]

Sunrise

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: angst, fluff, smut, angst with a happy end, post breakup au, actor!seokjin, fashion designer!reader, exes to lovers

☼ Count: 9.5K

☼ Warnings: 18+, accusations of cheating, poor communication, some arguments (the relationship at the end can be seen as turning toxic as communication breaks down, so be aware if you think that may now work for you or just need to be prepared), heartbreak, non-explicit description of panic attack, moments of emotional shut down

Smut warnings: teasing, soft sex, nipple play, body worship, oral (f recieving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (stay safe pls!), dirty talk, exhibitionism, bratty reader, rough sex, manhandling, bruising

☼ Summary: It’s been well over 10 years since you and Seokjin broke up. You’ve been doing fine. Until one night a dream rocks you to the core and you find yourself in a place from the past. Have you really moved on?

Has he?

☼  Newly added epilogue: Moonlight

☼ a/n: This is told both in the present and past, the flashbacks are in italics! The flashbacks also aren’t in order, but I believe they’re pretty easy to follow when they would fall chronologically.

Inspired by the 2000s emo playlist I listened to as work (especially Jamie All Over by Mayday Parade) Sorry if the tags seem a little scary, I’d rather overtag than have someone get blindsided while reading. But I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

The cool breeze washes over you, bathing you in the salty ocean air. It seems you found the perfect time to come out here. The light jacket you wore more than enough to keep you warm on such an unexpected trip. The sky is slowly being painted in pinks and purples and oranges as the sun slowly starts to sink into the horizon, small wisps of fluffy, white clouds occasionally obscuring the sunlight. You’ve always loved seeing the sunset out here. The colors reflecting off the ocean and leaving everchanging patterns before you. You’ve based plenty of designs on sunsets. 

The dress you wore to your first fashion week is still your favorite. The penultimate meeting of sunset and night sky. The outside was ombre layers of soft chiffon, shades of oranges and pinks and small bands of light purples. It pooled around your feet, you liked to think it made it seem like you had risen from the waters of a sunset reflection. The halter bodice wrapped around your neck in a shimmery, golden band. Hanging from the choker were thin golden chains, draped and connected to a golden belt at your waist. 

For all appearances, it appeared like just a sunset colored dress. But when you walked, or pulled the fabric apart at the slit in the front, it revealed a glittering deep purple fabric, speckled like a swirling galaxy. It had been the ultimate combination of the theme of yours and Hoseok’s collection, sun and moon. The dress still hangs in your closet, one of the few extravagant pieces you’ve held on too. You want to wear it again, you just have to find an occasion to do so. The dress deserves it. 

The scene before you specifically was what inspired it. Maybe not this spot specifically. There were a lot of memories tied to this spot that you tried not to think about typically. But you’ve always loved visiting the beach. Or lakes. Anywhere you could go and watch the sun sink into the water. Watch an uninterrupted sky blend colorfully with the water.

You can’t believe you’re back here though. It’s been easily more than 10 years since the last time you were at this beach, which is a drastic change from back then from when you came here all the time. Taking a seat on the bench beside you, you smile, a little sadly, as your fingers trace over the heart carved into the wood, weathered from years in the elements and use. But the letters are still clear enough and you skip over your initials, letting your fingertips trace the ‘ksj’ as you think on when they were put there. 

 The smile on his face is bright, as bright as the glint of sunlight off the small pocket knife in his hand. 

Your combined giggles fill the fresh spring air, the beach fairly deserted since you skipped your last two periods of school to come here. You hadn’t put up much of a fight when he made the suggestion during lunch. Your grades are good enough and it’s the last weeks of high school, you can miss a few class periods to have some fun, to spend some time together before university. Just in case you don’t get into the same one.

The scratch of the blade against the wood is softer than you expect, a gentle scratch, scratch, scratch as he meticulously and carefully carves your names into the wood. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and you fight the urge to coo at how cute he is. Doubling down on keeping quiet when you know doing so would also result in him being overly macho to prove he wasn’t cute. Not because he doesn’t believe he’s cute or anything, but he knows how much the faux display makes you laugh. You don’t want to interrupt his work when this seems so important to him.  

Finally he looks up from his work, proudly gesturing to the carving on the bench. 

“That’s so cheesy.”

With an exaggerated pout, he gives you the saddest eyes he can muster. “I worked so hard on this for you. As a testament to our love!”

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his jutted lower lip. “Well, I didn’t know it was so serious. My apologies.”

 A few more kisses and he’d promptly forgiven you and the two of you had spent the rest of the afternoon at the beach, taking blurry pictures on your flip phones. You’re positive that a printed version of one of those photos still lives in a box somewhere, where you didn’t have the heart to throw it away and so it’s stayed in a box of memories that moves with you but you never really look through. 

 You’re so tired when you finally get home. It doesn’t even feel like home anymore. You’ve spent more time either in the studio or with Jimin or Hoseok or at work than you have here. And you know from the times that you are here that Seokjin is gone just as often as you. It doesn’t even feel like you’re in a relationship anymore. It hurts to think about that. 

So you’d thought summer would be the perfect time for the two of you to rekindle your relationship. Fix whatever problems you were having, free from the stress of finals. But with senior year quickly approaching, everything seems to have just gotten worse. You can never seem to catch Seokjin to start the process of fixing anything. 

To your surprise, when you open the door you find Seokjin sitting on the bed, face pinched as he stares at something on his phone. Maybe this will finally be the opportunity to talk and start fixing things. You miss him, body cold and numb the nights you fall asleep here alone, always waiting and waking up disappointed. 

Before you can say anything, his head lifts and the cold glare he sends you stops you in your tracks. What could possibly have happened to make him give you that look? You know the two of you have been having some problems, but nothing that would warrant that look.

“Where the hell were you?” His tone is as icy as his eyes. 

You frown, gesturing vaguely towards the fridge. “Work. I put my schedule up so you knew.” He didn’t have the same courtesy. You never knew when he was working. Or what else he was doing when he was out. You had put yours up in hopes that he would do the same and maybe you would be able to find time to be together. Though you’re not sure he even bothered to go near the fridge. The few times you’ve made dinner for him and left the leftovers in the fridge with a note went untouched. 

He sneers and holds his phone out towards you. You have to step closer to get a good look at the image he has pulled up. It’s from just a few hours ago. You and Jimin sat at one of the cafe tables and laughing. It had been your break and Jimin came in to keep you company. Had Seokjin come by the cafe? Why hadn’t he come in? If he’d been there when this was taken, you were on break, you could’ve spent it together. 

“Then what’s this? Certainly doesn’t look like work to me.”

Your mind blanks. Is he seriously accusing you of lying right now? Indignation rises, acid burning in your throat. “What are you saying? If you were there why didn’t you come in? I would have loved to see you.”

“I wasn’t there. A friend sent this. And I’m saying that you’re never around. And I keep getting people telling me they see you out with him all the time. I haven’t seen you in weeks. But it seems like he sees you every day.”

He can’t seriously be accusing you of cheating right now. This seriously can’t be happening right now. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the accusation. It hurts that he’d honestly think you’d do that. Then the ugly thoughts come. What’s that saying, those who are most guilty are the quickest to throw blame at others?

“First of all,” you grit out, trying your best to keep your tone even. You can feel the rage churning in your belly. “I was on break when that was taken. Jimin came to visit because he knew someone wasn’t going to.” Seokjin’s mouth opens to speak but you continue, voice raising. He is not going to get to cut you off now. “It’s awfully fucking rich for you to accuse me when you have no evidence. You’re never even around. You know what they say, it’s never the one being blamed but the one doing the blaming.”

He scoffs and stands. In his anger, he seems to tower over you. But you’re too angry and indignant yourself for it to feel intimidating. You stare him down. 

“You’re really going to accuse me now?”

“It’s the same thing you’re doing! I was hoping to fucking talk when I saw you were home. I was so happy to see you here. We haven’t been home together in so long. I-”

“We haven’t been home together because you’re always out with Jimin.” 

“No I haven’t been fucking home because you’re never home and it fucking hurts to be in this shitty apartment without the person who’s supposed to be here with me. Do you know how fucking lonely it is waiting around here for a person who never shows up?”

Turning away from you, he takes a few deep breaths. 

You deflate slightly. You could still fix this. “Seokjin-”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to hear any more excuses.”

He moves towards the door and you panic. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You wanted to fix things. To make them better. Everything has spiraled and you can’t let him slip through your fingers. You reach for his wrist.

“Seokjin, wait-”

He wretches his hand free and glances at you over his shoulder with so much contempt that you feel your heart in your throat. “No. I’m done.”

This can’t be it. This really can’t be it. He sees you about to speak again and turns and leaves before you can get a word out and it feels like the rug has been ripped out from beneath you. The silence deafening in his absence. 

You don’t know how long you stand there for. You feel completely numb. Like this is just a bad dream and you’ll wake up soon and Seokjin will be next to you and you’ll tell him about this and he’ll laugh and comfort you and tell you that would never happen. You expect tears, but they never come. Everything feels so surreal. 

The man you had planned to spend the rest of your life with just walked out on you after accusing you of cheating. 5 years and he really thought that was something you would do. Do you wait around? Hope he comes back for you both to talk with calmer minds. 

You settle for a text.

You: Can we talk once we’ve both calmed down?

It’s less than a second later and the response makes your heart sink. Blocked. 

He really blocked you already. He’s not even going to try? You sink onto the bed. What are you supposed to do now?

At some point, mechanically, you text Jimin, asking if he could come over and bring some boxes. Looking around, you’re at least grateful that your place was small because it means you don’t have that much to try to move. Jimin arrives, faster than you expected. Or maybe you’ve just become that disconnected from the passage of time. 

He drops the boxes and comes up to you, hands fretting over you like there’s some physical injury he can attend to. Unless he knows how to mend a broken heart, his fretting is useless. Instead you move on autopilot, taking the boxes Jimin brought and packing your meager possessions into them. Jimin stands by the kitchen, looking sad and lost, unable to help because you have yet to say a word. He knows what happened though. It’s not hard to figure out. You’re thankful that he doesn’t try to get you to talk. Just lets you move and do what you need. Waits for you to ask should you need help. 

You’re almost finished packing when you pull the shoebox from under the bed and you suddenly feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Flipping the lid open reveals hundreds of photos. Of friends. Of family. Of trips. Of Seokjin. The top pictures pull your attention. Two copies of the same photo. A blurry snapshot of you two grinning on the beach. You both look so young and happy. You wish you could go back to that. Everything was so simple back then. 

He must have put his copy in with yours. Because why would they need to be kept in different places when the two of you would never be apart. You almost want to laugh. You mostly want to cry. You stand with the box, debate for all of two seconds before you set his copy down on the bed. He can decide what to do with his own copy. That’s not for you to decide. Not anymore. 

Tucking the shoebox into the last of the moving boxes, you cast one last look around the apartment. The holes where your things were hurt to see. The physical evidence that this part of your life is over. Carefully extracted from a life that had been so delicately intertwined. You wonder if the gaps will even bother Seokjin. If he’ll even bother staying here, if he’ll move onto something bigger and better. Without you. Swallowing, you turn to Jimin before those thoughts can spiral. Not here. Not yet. Once you’re somewhere else and alone. Then it can all come out.

“Ready?”

You give a small nod and Jimin helps take your things downstairs. He does most of the work while you wait on the sidewalk. He calls a taxi, loads your things into, gives the driver his address. 

As it pulls away from the curb, you can’t help but to watch the apartment shrink into the distance. Feeling like you left your heart behind. You wonder if you’ll ever get it back.

 Your phone dings with a notification, dragging you out of the sad memories. You give yourself a small shake. You hadn’t thought about that day in years, pushing it to the back of your mind. You had learned later on that some girls had told Seokjin lies about you to get the two of you to break up in a bid for his attention. It had backfired spectacularly because you found out through Hoseok after he overheard Seokjin yelling at the girl who asked him out less than a week after the break up. He never came to talk to you after the truth came out though. You never let yourself think too hard about why that might be. You’d already spent too many nights feeling numb and broken. You poured yourself into your work. Your friends. You had been content for your senior year. It didn’t go how you were expecting, but it was still good.

You smile at the device in your hand. It’s far more advanced than your old flip phones had been, even your college phone had been fairly low tech, the downsides of living on a budget. High school you would have killed for a camera this good back then. That blurry picture of you and Seokjin would’ve been much more clear if you’d had something like this back then. You swipe the notification away, just an email from your assistant about your schedule for tomorrow and what had been shifted around from today. But all that can wait until later, probably when you’re back home. The notification draws your attention to a text from Hoseok that you hadn’t seen though. He must have messaged while you were walking so you didn’t feel your phone go off. 

Hobihobi: Are you ok?

You smile at his concern. And honestly the fact that he even noticed you dipped out of the studio early. You had thought that he had been too busy on his own upcoming project to notice. It’s a pretty big deal for your label and he’s been working so hard to get this project. You’re just glad you have the perk of being boss to be able to dip when you need to. Although technically, you and Hoseok own your label, Daydream Designs, together. 

Texting him a quick reassurance, you pocket the device again, content to just enjoy the sunset out here alone. There’s a few people scattered around the beach. A few families beginning to pack up for the evening, a person running with their dog, a couple walking along the shoreline. 

You have such fond memories of this beach. For all the bad memories you have of the relationship, mostly from the end of it, at least the beach remains untainted.

 Nervously clutching the letter in your hand, your leg bounces as you wait for Seokjin to arrive. He’d texted you earlier that he’d gotten a letter from SNU. You’d rushed home to see you had a letter waiting as well. You were thankful that they had come on the same day. You can’t imagine how much more anxiety you’d have if you’d had to wait longer for one of your letters to arrive. 

You glance at the white envelope, the edges are beginning to wrinkle from your grip, but you can’t get your fingers to relax. Checking your phone again, you wonder where Seokjin is. He should be here soon. The beach is crowded today. The weather finally nice enough and the water clear and warm. It was a miracle that you’d managed to get your bench when you’d arrived. But someone had just been leaving when you’d gotten here and you’d quickly jogged over to take it before someone else could snatch it. It seemed like the perfect place to see what your future held.  

Seokjin appears suddenly, panting like he ran the whole way here. Which, given the sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead, is a good possibility. He still looks handsome, more so when he sends you a brilliant grin.

“You got our bench!”

Returning his smile, you send him a wink. “I had to fight an old lady for it.”

He presses a quick kiss to your lips as he sits down, brandishing his letter. “How do you want to do this?”

Chewing your lip, you think it over. “I don’t think I can open it.”

His eyes soften and he takes your hand. He can read you so well. “No matter what happens, we’ll always have each other.” He gives your hand a squeeze. “How about we open each other’s?”

Reluctantly, you nod. Would it really be better to see that he got in while still not knowing if you got in too? Swapping letters, you stare down at his name spelled out in ink. You know he got in. There’s no way he didn’t. Seokjin nudges you and you look up.

“Count of three?” You nod. “Okay… 3…”

“2…”

“1…”

Seokjin is a little faster in tearing open the envelope than you are but you keep your gaze firmly downcast, watching as your fingers tear open the paper with meticulous care. You skim his letter quickly. 

Congratulations.

He got in. Joy swells in you and you look up with a grin, momentarily forgetting your own letter. Your smile quickly falters though when you see the flat look on Seokjin’s face as he stares down at your letter and your heart sinks.

Tugging his hand to get his attention, you give him a sad smile. “Hey, it’s okay. You said-”

“You got in.”

You blink. His words swirling around your head but not fully registering. “What?”

He envelops you in a massive hug, laughing with joy. “You got in! Baby, you did it!”

You still feel a little dumbfounded, but you’re quickly filling with excitement. “You too! Jinnie, you got in too!”

He pulls back and presses a long kiss to your lips. His eyes look suspiciously wet, but you decide not to comment. You’re positive that your’s are probably a little wet too. “The next four years are going to be amazing.”

 He had been so optimistic back then. You could use some of that optimism now. 

You hadn’t originally planned on cutting out of work early, especially not to come here of all places. There were some designs that you needed to work on, a few ideas that you had that you wanted to get sketched up to show to Hoseok. But when you’d been walking through the common area during lunch, you’d overheard a couple of people gathered around a computer gushing about the Kim Seokjin wearing one of Hoseok’s designs. 

It’s definitely not the first time. Hoseok knew Seokjin in university when you knew him too, although you were always closer to him since you shared a lot of classes, and obviously a shared love of fashion. But the two were friendly and remained so afterward, but on a more acquaintanceship basis. The break up clearly divided some friendships, though you hated that it happened. You didn’t want anyone to feel like they had to stop being friends with either of you just because you two were no longer dating. 

You know it’s not the first time Hoseok has designed something for Seokjin. And normally, him wearing one of Hoseok’s designs wouldn’t bother you too much. Both because it’s good for Hoseok because Hoseok is a genius and deserves it, but because it’s also really good for your label in general in terms of good press. Though you know Hoseok sometimes slips your designs into things that get sent to him. You saw one of your jackets ended up at an award show. 

Idle chatter about Seokjin around the office isn’t that new. You suppose that’s one of the downsides to being in an industry that is very closely tied to idols and actors and actresses. It’s not an uncommon occurrence to hear them gossip about him, he’s one of the most popular drama actors currently and everyone loves to gush about how handsome and funny he is. They find it odd that you’ll talk about anyone with them except him. They leave it be much easier now, but in the beginning they still tried to include you. 

You’ve even dealt easily with the dating rumors. All the pretty actresses he’s supposedly dating. And why wouldn’t he? He’s gorgeous and talented and so, so kind. Any woman would be lucky to have him. You’ve been on the receiving end of his love. You know how easy it is to fall.

If your coworkers knew that you’d dated him in the past, they would think you were crazy to let him go. And maybe be a little jealous and probably pepper you with questions about him. You definitely are thankful they don’t know because the way some of them gossip about their own sex lives, they’d beg for details about a celebrity’s from first hand experience. 

 Excitement fills you as you sit in the airport. It’s finally summer. Your first year of college is behind you and you now get to spend two whole weeks with Seokjin in Jeju. Well Seokjin and his family. But they were kind enough to let the two of you have your own little place on the island. Well it was more of just the guest house to the main house they, along with Seokjin’s brother, would be staying at. 

This will likely be the only big summer trip you both take during college. Seokjin had originally planned to not go. More content to work all summer and save up money so the two of you could get an apartment off campus. His parents had offered to pay for a place, but Seokjin was adamant that the two of you wanted to do this for yourselves. 

You’d try to hide your disappointment about not going, but he knows you far too well and caved quickly to saying one trip wouldn’t hurt his independence. So now here you were, ready to fly out to Jeju. You haven’t been since you were little and you were excited that you got to go back and this time with Seokjin. 

The flight is quick and uneventful and Seokjin gets a taxi to take you to the beach house, his parents having arrived a few days prior. 

The main house is beautiful, but you’re more excited to see where you’ll be staying. The outside of the guest house looks like a miniature version of the main one. Inside, it’s spacious, all one room with an attached bathroom. The bed is separated from the living area by an ornate partition painted with a starry nightscape. The moon is painted in such gorgeous detail that you’re tempted to tell Seokjin you want to steal the partition when you leave. 

The living area is simple, a plush sofa and matching chair set facing a wall mounted TV. A small, well-stocked minibar is pressed against one wall. Around the partition and into the sleeping area is a large bed facing a set of french doors that open out onto a small deck that leads right down to the beach in two steps. 

Flopping onto the bed with a giddy giggle, you watch as Seokjin sets his bag down and gives you a fond smile. 

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

You squirm back slightly, coy smile stretching your lips. “I don’t know. The bed seems kind of empty.”

He chuckles, sitting on the bed and tugging you into his lap. “Better?”

Humming, you press a kiss to his lips. “Much.”

When you go to pull away, he follows, capturing your lips in another, deeper kiss. “We don’t… have… a lot of time…” he murmurs between kisses. 

You give a vague affirmative, only half listening to his words in favor of pressing him back into the mattress. His parents can wait, you have some important business first.

 The night air is cool, the french doors left open, gauzy curtains shifting in the gentle breeze. Shifting onto his side, Seokjin presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder, soft and unhurried. It’s only been a couple of days since you’ve been here. But it’s been utter bliss, especially after the exhaustion from finals. 

You nudge the sheet lower down your bodies and press closer to him. Tonight seems like the perfect time for something soft and unhurried. A perfect time to really connect again. No hurrying because of classes, or roommates, or meetings. No papers to worry about. 

Just you and Seokjin. In a plush bed with a cool, ocean breeze enveloping you. If you peek through the curtains, you can just make out the shape of the moon, the illumination making Seokjin glow before you. 

He’s already bared to you. Both of you showering off the ocean water from an evening dip and simply crawling into bed together afterwards. The TV is off, the only sounds filling the room is the rustle of the sheets as you move and the lapping of the waves on the shore. You dare not speak and break the peaceful atmosphere and Seokjin seems to be on the same wavelength. 

Neither of you need to speak to know how to move around each other here. He cups your face, such a gentle caress, like you’re the most fragile and beautiful thing he’s ever held. It makes you feel cherished. He leans closer and time seems to slow down with the press of his plush lips to yours. He takes his time kissing you, so slowly like you have the rest of eternity for just this moment. 

Pushing you onto your back, Seokjin cages you in, enveloping you in the safe blanket of his embrace. His scent is overwhelming like this, you could drown in it. His hips press into yours, cock not fully hard yet, but that doesn’t matter. This is about taking your time with each other. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands sliding from his neck up into his hair.

The strands are a little dried out, a combination of the salty ocean water and the fresh bleaching it got. His parents hated it at first, but he defended it as just college experimentation. It’s supposed to be a time of discovery and why not try different hair colors. He’s unfairly attractive with the bleach blonde, just as handsome as his natural brunette. You know he plans to dye it another color. But he’s yet to tell you what it’ll be. 

You give his hair a light tug, relishing the sigh he releases against your lips. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“Just you.”

“You always have me.”

Seokjin nudges your thighs apart as he kisses across your jaw and down your neck. Trailing across your collarbones, he leaves a line nips down to your sternum. His hands slide up your sides till they meet your breasts, fingers cupping the soft flesh as he peppers kisses across the expanse of your chest. He traces one nipple with his tongue, teasing the bud to stiffness with each swipe. He moves on to the other one, changing it up and using his teeth this time. The air fills with your soft moans, blending with the waves outside. 

Moving lower, Seokjin kisses your belly, taking his time to touch every little mark across your skin. Pleasure simmers in your belly, every nerve burns like a live wire. Over all that, you feel loved. Absolutely worshiped as Seokjin presses a kiss to your mound with such reverence that you think he might convert right here and now. 

Seokjin eats you out just as slowly and thoroughly as he kissed you. He savors you with each swipe of his tongue, every suck, every twist of his fingers. Seokjin plays your pleasure like a fine-tuned instrument, drawing you ever so slowly to the edge. Your fingers thread through his hair once more, not to be demanding, but for the sake of feeling grounded. His tongue laps at you like you’re a ten course meal and he wants to savor every single morsel. When you chance a glance down at him, his eyes are closed, handsome face, what you can see of it at least, smoothed out in utter bliss. 

When you finally cum, it feels like sinking into pure euphoria. Seokjin drags it out for so long and so gently that you cum a second time. Though you’re so lost in sensation that maybe it’s still the first orgasm.

Pushing himself to his knees, his face glistens with your slick and you feel bereft with the distance suddenly between you. You reach out for him and he falls right into you, lips crashing against yours as his cock presses against your pussy. But you need more than that and you squirm, drawing a chuckle from deep in his chest. 

“Impatient…” he murmurs.

But despite his teasing, he shifts until the tip of his cock catches your hole and he slides in with languid push. You sigh his name and he answers with a nod, lips brushing your neck as he pulls back and starts a slow, almost lazy, rhythm. You cling to him, nearly delirious with pleasure. 

Nudging Seokjin, you pull him in for a kiss of your own. “I love you.”

He groans into your mouth. “Fuck… I love you too. So much.”

You lose track of time, your pace unhurried. Seokjin cums at some point and the two of you lay facing each other and exchanging soft kisses until you drift off to sleep. 

 You whine as Seokjin slips his cock into you. He’s been teasing you all day on the beach. At one point while you were in the water with him, his fingers slipped beneath your suit to tease along your pussy. You’d nearly screamed at the sudden sensation, but Seokjin had merely laughed and floated out of your reach, sending you a wink as he licked his finger. The second you returned to your room from dinner he was on you. This is so different from the other night. Somewhere in between the rushed couplings in the dorms and the slow, soft sex from then. It feels just as good, a little rough, fun, light. Perfect.

Seokjin grins cockily above you. “I barely did anything and you’re so wet for me, baby.”

Huffing, you try to kick at him, but he easily pins your leg down. He tuts and delivers a thrust that jostles you up the bed and draws a gasp from you. He looks entirely too pleased with himself. 

Before you can formulate any other sort of retaliation, the sound of voices catches your attention. Glancing to the side shows that neither of you shut the french doors. The voices don’t sound close, but they are near enough for you to hear. It’s not too strange, the beach is there for anyone. But it’s the first night that anyone has been out there, at least close enough for you to be able to hear from your bed. Music soon follows the voices. A party. 

Unbidden, the thought of someone breaking away from the party, coming down the beach this way and passing by the open doors has you clenching around Seokjin. He gasps at the sudden tightness, blinking down at where you’re connected. Licking his lips, he follows your gaze and a moment later, you see realization cross his features. 

His resulting grin is downright dangerous. “What’s got you going, baby? Hm?”

Swallowing, you turn back to him, blocking out the voices. You will not give him the satisfaction. “Nothing.”

Fingers digging into your hips, Seokjin glances towards the doors again. He gives a harsh thrust that pulls a startle moan from you. “Nothing, huh? I don’t think that’s true.” He turns back to you and there’s a dark look in his eyes. “I think that you want someone to walk by and see us. That the idea of being caught is exciting.”

You scoff, deliberately turning your face away from the doors. “I’m actually bored and thinking about what we’re doing tomorrow.”

Seokjin blinks at you for a moment before chuckling darkly. “Is that right?” You nod. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

It sounds like a threat and a challenge. And you’re never one to back down from a challenge. “Well in the morning, we’re meeting your parents for brunch…” 

Seokjin’s tongue presses against his cheek as he slams his cock into you. It would force you up the bed if not for his bruising grip on your hips keeping you firmly pinned in place, forced to take the full brunt of his cock spliting you open. 

But you’re just as stubborn as him. “Then we’re going… to the spa… oh my g-god… you… you made… p-plans for lunch…” 

Every few words you stutter out are punctuated by another harsh thrust. Your legs are pushed towards your chest and his next thrust has his cock rubbing along your g-spot and for a second, your mind blanks on what’s happening, pleasure so sudden and searing that you forget everything but the full feel of Seokjin’s cock inside you. He starts to grin then, victoriously, and that pulls you out of it just enough to continue, gritting your teeth as he continues to fuck you.

“Said you had… a surprise… then we were going to… oh, fuck… gonna go to t-town… buy some… gifts… Seokjin, please…”

He grins. “Gonna admit what you were thinking about?”

One hand leaves your legs, thumb brushing your clit and your resolve crumbles with your rising desire to cum. 

“Fuck… yes! I want someone to walk by. See you fucking me, making me cum, making me feel good… Seokjin, please…” you whine out.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

His rough thrusts pick up again. This time accompanied by the rhythmic movements on his fingers on your clit. Your orgasm builds quickly and leaves you breathless as Seokjin forces you over the edge. You cry out, heedless of the volume of your voice. If anything, the thought of someone hearing how Seokjin makes you feel makes you shudder with pleasure.

Seokjin groans, hands dropping to the bed as he chases his own orgasm, smothering his moan of your name against your shoulder. 

When he’s caught his breath, he raises his head, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “So… exhibitionism, huh?”

 The stories you had are probably worth a lot. Which is why you keep them to yourself. No one but you and Seokjin need to know those details. Especially not some of the more nosy people you work with. Hoseok thankfully played along with only knowing him on a professional level and not that you all went to university together. 

It’s typically pretty easy to just ignore the chatter when it comes up about him. But a couple days ago, you had a dream about him. One that after you woke up, you couldn’t recall almost anything about it. Except his face and the heavy feeling in your heart. His smile was burned into your mind and has left you feeling off since then. The mention of him today combined with the weird feeling brought back a whole slew of memories and things you had thought you’d long since moved past. To the point that you made the decision to leave work to work early because you were so confused. Why you were suddenly feeling like this about someone who you thought you’ve been over for more than 10 years. 

You never thought you’d be here back in university. Together with Seokjin. You both had thought you’d be together forever, whispered together about getting married, about the future. The things you’d do and the places you’d go to. 

 The arm around your bare waist tightens, a firm chest pressing into your back. 

“What’re you thinking about, baby?” Seokjin murmurs into the skin of your shoulder.

You chew your lip nervously before shifting in his grip so that you’re now facing each other. You’ve been thinking about a lot of things as freshman year draws to a close. All of them lead back to Seokjin.

The afternoon sunlight peeks in through the curtains, casting golden light across him and the dormroom. It’s an odd time to be in bed together, but it’s one of the only moments that you both have free and there’s no dormmates around to bother or have to kick out. Though you know Yoongi, Seokjin’s roommate and faux reluctant friend, would give you both the space if you asked. You don’t want to be the person that kicks him out constantly, so for now, you both are content to steal some free moments during the day when Yoongi has classes. Maybe next year you can think about getting a little place off campus together. A place both for you guys and maybe for your friends to visit and hang out at. 

You think Seokjin looks the most beautiful under the afternoon light regardless. Seokjin pecks your nose, drawing your attention back to him and his question that remains unanswered. You feel a little nervous bringing up what you were thinking about. But the two of you have been together for almost 3 years. You should be able to bring it up to him.

Swallowing your slight nerves, you finally speak. “Was just… thinking about the future…”

His answering smile is warm and gentle and you feel like the world could crumble around you and you would be safe here in his arms. “I hope I’m there.” 

Giggling, you press a kiss to his lips. “Of course. I can’t imagine a future without such a handsome man on my arm while I attend extravagant parties and get all the jealous stares to be dating someone so much younger than me.”

Gasping with as much drama as you expect from him, Seokjin falls onto his back, hands clutched over his chest. “I can’t believe this! The truth has finally come out! You’re only with me for my youthful looks!”

Fond smile growing, you settle your hand over his as he continues a dramatic monologue about the ultimate betrayal. You wish he would listen to you about changing his major. You know he’d love being an acting major much more than he currently is in his business major classes. A major he’s in only to appease his family. 

Finally tired of his dramatics, you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, effectively silencing him. “I love you,” you murmur against his lips. 

 You wonder when he changed his degree. Or if he ever did. You know plenty of people who go into acting without the degree and Seokjin certainly had the inherent talent to do it. It would be easy to verify if you just looked him up. Someone who’s so in the spotlight now would certainly have his degree information online. But you don’t want to do that. You wonder how invasive that must be. Although you and Hoseok are beginning to get that popular too, you wonder if those sorts of things will begin to happen to you. You can’t imagine you’d be very interesting to follow around. 

Truthfully, you don’t know what would be worse in regards to the fate of Seokjin’s degree. If he had done what you had told him all along and changed his major after you two broke up, or if he had decided to follow his dreams even if he didn’t have the degree for it. It’s undeniable that it hurts either way. The first time you’d seen him in a trailer had sent you spiraling in a way that you hadn’t since the breakup. 

 There’s a pounding at the door, but you can’t find it in yourself to get off the couch. The TV is still on the channel it had been on last night and you’re still sat in the same place as then. Honestly, you only know that it’s at least morning because there’s light streaming in through the windows and when you had seen the trailer it had definitely been evening. 

You had been watching some show, whatever you landed on first that seemed at least mildly entertaining, while eating dinner. A quick break from the sketches that are scattered across your coffee table. Sketches that could lead to your first big contract.  

But your peaceful and exciting night of work had been interrupted when you’d seen a preview for a new drama. A new drama with Kim Seokjin. It had been crushing to see. You had been telling him to do that for so long. To the point that it became one of the contributing factors in your seemingly inevitable breakup. 

It seems then that the problem was never with whether or not he would follow his dreams after graduation. It was just if you would be there with him. You cried when you saw it, a vice of bitterness around your heart that while you don’t get to celebrate with him, you’re so happy that he’s doing what he loves. You’re fairly certain you stopped sometime around midnight, though the night was a little hazy as your thoughts circled around one thing. How he hadn’t wanted you there with him.

The banging at your door stops at some point, though you don’t know how long they kept it up for. And then your door is suddenly being shoved open, banging against the wall and there’s two sets of footsteps moving quickly into the apartment. You hear a muffled ‘fuck’ and then you’re being enveloped in a hug. 

It takes only a moment for you to realize who it is, the orange-y scent of Jimin’s favorite cologne washing over you. Your breath stutters then, it hurts to breathe so you bury your face in his chest and his arms tighten around you. He murmurs comforting words and someone else sits behind you, hand gently rubbing your back. 

Eventually, you calm down and you pull away to give Jimin a weak smile, one that you direct to Hoseok as well when you see him behind you. Jimin returns with a pained smile of his own. 

“You saw, huh?” You nod and Jimin sighs. “I had hoped that you wouldn’t see it last night. It’s what I was planning to tell you at dinner tonight. So you could be prepared for it. I’m so sorry I waited to tell you.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, you have nothing to apologize for.” You rub your neck. “I… I didn’t think I would react quite like this… It’s been 3 years. You worked so hard to help me out of that dark place-”

Jimin puts a hand over your mouth, cutting you off. “No, you worked hard to get yourself out of that dark place. I was just there to hold your hand. It was a tough breakup. It’s understandable if there’s occasionally things that bring that heartache back up.”

You nod slowly, not fully believing his assertion that he just held your hand post break up. You probably would’ve dropped out of university after the breakup if you hadn’t met Jimin. You look between him and Jimin. “H-how did you know to come?”

Hoseok gives a sheepish grin. “You didn’t show up to work and I got worried. I texted Jimin on my way here and he seemed to know exactly what had happened.”

“Now that we’re here. How about I go get all of us some junk food and you two find something trashy for us to binge?”

 After that, it got much easier to see him on your screen. Or on screens in the train stations. Or plastered on ads and billboards. 

It helped you actually, to finally, truly move on from him. A sort of immersion therapy to numb you to his face. You didn’t need him to be happy. You loved your budding design business with Hoseok, clubbing with Jimin, dating both casually and more seriously. It all got easier with time and you’re grateful for the friends that you have. Your friends have always been there for you, even back then. 

 Your first birthday after the breakup was rough. Seokjin always planned something elaborate and thoughtful. There would be none of that this year. You went to work in the morning, gave your coworkers a fake smile as they wished you a happy birthday with a cupcake in the breakroom before you opened the cafe. It was sweet of them to do, but the breakup was still far too recent for you to truly enjoy anything like this. 

Jimin had night classes so you would have the evening alone. You at least had your own room now instead of sleeping on Jimin’s couch in his old apartment. You had protested his plan to move to a two bedroom apartment for you both to share so you could have your own space. You knew on your meager wages you’d never be able to help with rent at such a large place. You and Seokjin had barely been able to afford your studio together.

But Jimin insisted. He had more than enough to cover rent and you could just save your money. Or buy groceries and cook. He hated cooking, could do it just fine but was too impatient for it. It seemed like incredibly inadequate compensation for him giving you a place to live, but he just smiled and said that’s what friends do for each other. You had cried and he teased you afterward and then made you buy him ice cream. But you agreed to moving and letting him help. 

And it was nice to have your own room. It was great to live with Jimin. He was the sweetest and seemed to always know exactly what you needed. Hoseok visited often too, though you don’t know if he was coming to see you or Jimin more some days, and the three of you worked hard to get through your last year of university. Together. 

But with Jimin in classes tonight, the apartment would be empty. You didn’t really feel like cooking either. So you’d probably just have some ramen. If you could even be bothered to eat to begin with. You freeze when you get to your floor, brows knit in confusion when you see a beautiful bouquet of red and yellow lilies, interspersed with sheep sorrels. The vase is a glossy deep blue, splashes of purples and pinks and speckles of white paint of soft starry night. 

You wonder who they’re for. They must have been left at the wrong door. You carefully look through the petals for a card, finding the glossy little square quickly. Tears gather in your eyes when you see the little cartoon cat head sketched into the blank area of the card. It’s a little cruder than you’re used to seeing, the ear slightly misshapen, the cheeks a little too chunky, the lines a little unsure. 

But it’s unmistakably Yoongi’s cat doodle. Meaning he must have dropped these off for you, even though you and Seokjin have broken up. And you’re not even sure if he knew where your new place was. You’d have to thank him soon for them. It makes the day a little less rough to have something so pretty. To know someone was thinking of you.

 You never did get the chance to thank him properly for the gift. At least directly. You’d taken him a coffee, a few days later, as thanks. He’d looked a little confused but never questioned or made you say anything out loud. Which you’re grateful for. Just because you and Seokjin split up, didn’t mean you and Yoongi couldn’t still be on friendly terms. Though you haven’t properly talked to him in quite a while. Maybe you should ask him to meet up soon. See how he’s been doing. 

But even with all the progress you’ve made and all that your friends have done for you, you still have the occasional bad day. Looking back on it, it had been years since you had one that affected you enough that you had to take off work specifically in regards to Seokjin. You’re really not sure what made it seem like the beach, this beach was the best place to go. But there was just something that called you here. 

For as painful as the breakup was, Seokjin was your first love. He was amazing while you were together. Always loving and supportive. Even when things started to fall apart.

 With a groan, you push the apartment door open, giving a harder shove when it gets jammed. Like it always does and your landlord refuses to do a thing about it. The lights are off when you finally get the door shut and your heart sinks. Seokjin was supposed to be home. You haven’t seen him for more than a few minutes in the last week. This was going to finally be the night you spent together. Throwing your bag down, you flick the lights on, seeing the cramped studio apartment is indeed empty. You pull your phone out, seeing if maybe he just ran out for something or if he was running late, but there’s nothing. 

You try not to let your disappointment consume you and instead grab your sketchbook from the shelf and decide to get some sketches done while you wait, hoping, probably vainly, that Seokjin will be back soon. 

You jerk awake to the sound of the door slamming and when you blink blearily at the clock, it’s nearly midnight. You turn to watch as Seokjin kicks his shoes off, weariness written in his posture. 

“Hey,” you croak and Seokjin gives no indication that he heard you. “Where were you?”

Seokjin straightens and sighs before turning to you. There’s a dead look in his eye that you’ve never seen before, let alone had directed at you. “Out.”

For all that you had been sad or worried, anger and confusion surges through you at his complete disregard. “Out? You could’ve texted. We were supposed to have a night in together.”

His jaw tightens and he drops his bag beside yours before moving towards the bathroom, the only place in this shithole with a door. “I had to study.”

And before you can say anything else, the bathroom door is slammed shut behind him. You stare at it incredulously. He can’t be serious. You’re just as stressed as he is. Finals are creeping in and along with that is planning for senior year. At the rate you’re going, summer is going to be unbearable. 

 You sigh, shaking the memories away. You don’t want to dwell on the bad anymore. Even if the breakup was crushing, the good times were amazing. With the sun finally below the horizon, the moon takes its place, casting cool white light across the beach. And with it, comes the peace of being alone. You let the sound of the waves lull your thoughts to silence.

But the sound of footsteps pulls your attention, confused because the beach is basically deserted at this time, the chill brought in with the moon driving most people inside. Your breath catches in your throat when you see Seokjin standing not far from you. The wind blows his hair from his face and he looks tired. A little older, but still just as handsome as he was in university.

There’s no way that this is happening. You must be dreaming. That’s right. This is just another dream. A weird continuation of the one from a couple of days ago. Seokjin isn’t really here. Not at the same time as you. Not when there’s no one around. Not when your heart feels vulnerable and you can admit that you maybe really, really miss him. Sometimes.

But the chill from the wind feels real. The wood biting into your palms where your grip has tightened on the bench feels real. He looks real and handsome and devastating. Every bit like the man who stole your heart in high school and broke it in college. Who loved to make sure his loved ones were always laughing. Who had such a flair for dramatics that it was never a surprise that he’s such a popular and talented actor. 

The jacket wrapped around his shoulders is unmistakably yours. A silly, casual design that you had done but never put into a collection cause there was never one it fit. You had sewn it on a whim, the idea eating away at you until you made it, settled the itch in your fingers. There’s only one way that Seokjin could’ve gotten that.

Hoseok. 

Have they been talking more than Hoseok let on?

Seokjin hasn’t noticed you yet and you’re wondering if you’d be able to slip away without having him notice you when he turns and freezes. He seems just as surprised and blindsided to see you as you are to see him. You stare at each other and it feels like an eternity and a million conversations pass between you both. He swallows and closes the short distance between you both and tentatively takes a seat beside you. 

He looks nervous when he turns towards you. Clearing his throat after a moment, he sticks his hand out, tentative smile on his face. “Hi, I’m Kim Seokjin.”

You almost laugh. It’s such a him thing to do. As if you would ever forget him. Seokjin left a scar on your heart, you’d carry a little piece of him for the rest of your life.

But the introduction feels like more than a way to break the tension. There’s a question hiding in his innocuous words. Is this okay? Can I be here? Can we be in each other’s lives again? 

Most importantly, it feels like a fresh start. A new chapter. You and Seokjin are different people now. You’re both successful. You’ve grown, matured, learned. You’re no longer the starry-eyed, hopeful kids in college. Full of dreams and hopes, but with so little experience. 

Who knows, maybe there won’t even be romantic feelings between you anymore. Maybe you’ll just end up friends. 

But maybe this new start is what you both need. The sun may have set on your relationship in the past, but maybe it was just what you both needed to let the sun rise now. Something new, and exciting, but still a little bit familiar. 

You take his hand with a smile. “Hi, Kim Seokjin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

[multi-maker]

— lantern rite.

perhaps it was the way your eyes shone so beautifully, the orange light of the lanters making your eyes seemingly glimmer. or perhaps it was the way your lips curled into a breathtaking smile. or perhaps, it was the way your hands fit snugly into his.

what xiao knew, was that he, the guardian yaksha of liyue, one of the adeptus, was hopelessly, utterly, in love.

note. here’s a short fic about xiao as my gift for all of you for your constant support towards anemo and i~! an event is comingg up soon so please wait patiently for it hehe~!

Xiao didn’t dabble in mortal affairs that much.

Humans were troublesome, fragile, and Xiao hated it whenever he was forced to interact with them. He may be protecting them, defeating the demons that threatened to rise, clearing out monster camp after monster camp, but he loathed interacting with them.

Until you came.

Xiao could remember it clear as a day - when you first bursted into his life with whirlwinds of emotions and a tendency to go overboard. You wore a bright smile, eyes teasing yet kind as you proudly offered him almond tofu. He remembers asking you, for the first time, what was it for? What did you need, to go to the Guardian Yaksha?

Your answer left him baffled.

“Because you looked hungry,” You replied to him back then, smile unfaltering. “Adepti’s do not get hungry.” He says slowly, his mind not proccessing your words very carefully. You scoffed back then, rolling your eyes at him. You were lucky he was in a good mood or he would have thrown you off of Wangshu Inn for the blatant disrespect.

“Come on! You need food from time to time as well.” You told him, offering him the dish once again. Xiao takes one look at you - Streaked with ash from your battle and hands calloused and worn from wielding your weapon, and eyes bright from adventure - and Xiao decides, that this human was eccentric.

You kept coming back.

Even when Xiao told you to get lost becauze humans cannot stay in the presence of Adepti’s for too long. You still came back. Whether it be holding another plate of Almond Tofu or just ranting to him about how annoying Dendro Slimes were, Xiao appeared every time you called him.

It was quite wholesome - To see the Guardian Yaksha appear after you just call his name.

When Rex Lapis died, and when the Adepti were forced to meet with the Liyue Qixing, Xiao forgot about you for a while.

Until Osial attacked - and he was reminded of you.

Xiao snapped his head back to Liyue Harbor, desperately wishing that you were alive and well. Perhaps it was a foolish wish, but he hoped you weren’t reckless enough to charge at elite trained Fatui. He knew though, that you were far from cowardly. The moment you’ll see an enemy, you wouldn’t hesitate to strike them down.

Xiao could only hope you will stay alive.

——————————————————————————

Thankfully, you weren’t stupid enough to fight elite Fatui members, just as what Xiao hoped.

You were still stupid enough to stick with him, though.

(Xiao ignores how relieved he was when he saw you climbing Wangshu Inn with your usual bright grin. He ignores how your teasing laughter brought something warm bloom in his ice cold heart.)

“Are you going to the Lantern Rite Festival?” You ask him curiously when all has settled down, your colored orbs staring at him. Xiao crosses his arms. “No. I am an Adeptus and I cannot linger in the crowd of humans far too long.” He responded, amber eyes stealing a glance at you.

Your face was downcast, a frown playing on your lips. “What is the matter?” He asks you with a raised eyebrow. You huff, glancing away from him. “I was...Hoping we could see the lanterns together.” You mumble out, your cheeks puffed out. Xiao stares at you - surprise in his face. You wanted to go with him of all people?

You snap your head towards him when he let out some kind of inhumane sound. His face was turned away from yours, as he lets out a cough. “Apologies. I...choked.” He finished lamely, clearing his throat. You were about to ask him if he would like for you to fetch him water, when you see it.

His ears were red.

A grin slowly formed on your lips, and you turned to look at him. You propped your fist against your cheek, a teasing grin on your lips as your eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh?” You smirked, eyeing him. “Is the mighty Guardian Yaksha flustered~?” You sing song, and Xiao snapped his head towards you.

Indignation painted all over his face, you couldn’t stop the amused laughter bubble out of your mouth. “Ah! Xiao, I wasn’t...I’m sorry!” You choke out a laugh, clutching your sides. You let out another burst of laughter, remembering his face.

Unbeknownst to you, Xiao lets himself stare.

You laughed so beautifully.

Your hair framed your scrunched up face, eyes crinkling and cheeks burning due to your laughter. You once commented to him that you hated your laugh, seeing it too loud or rowdy.

Xiao loved it.

Your laughter died down, resorting into small chuckles and giggles before your fingers came up to wipe away the tears that formed on your eyes. “Ah, I’m...I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help it.” You choke, another fit of giggles escaping you.

“Are you done?” Xiao grumpily asks you, but if he was honestly annoyed then he would have long thrown you off of the balcony. This, you knew. You wave your hand around, giggling. “Anyway...You really aren’t going to the Lantern Rite?” You ask him, tilting your head.

Xiao shakes his head, his amber eyes holding some sort of faraway look in it. “No. I won’t be going to the festival.” He answers you, firmly. “Why?” You press him, a frown on place. “Too many humans.” He responded, glancing at you.

You hum in reply, before turning to look at the scene before the two of you. For a while, silence fell on the two of you. Xiao took this moment to admire you in his peripheral vision, taking in the way your hair danced in the breeze and how the stars reflected on your eyes.

“Will you come, if I prepare something?” You suddenly ask him, making Xiao startle. He looks at you fully this time, and you face him as well. Your face was curious yet determined, eyebrow raised and waiting for his answer.

Xiao opens his mouth to say no, to deny you of your wish because he really shouldn’t be getting close you. He was a Yaksha, and you were human.

“...Perhaps.” Was all he said. That was seemingly enough for you, when your eyes lit up and your smile took over. “I’m holding you to that, Guardian Yaksha!” You tease, before you started running out. “Where are you going?” He calls you, surprised. You whip your head towards him, and you grin.

“To make you experience the best festival, of course!”

Then, you were gone.

Xiao stares at where you stood moments before, amber eyes wide with surprise. “Xiao, you are an idiot.” He says to no one in particular, his gloved hands clenching and unclenching. “...I said perhaps. So they will not be mad if I don’t show up, right?” He mutters, nodding decisively.

He won’t show up. That’s a promise to himself.

He showed up.

Xiao was ready to retreat into the night when the first signs of festivites were about to close and the lanterns lit up. But then.

But then, the wind carried your whisper of his name.

Gritting his teeth and blaming himself and you for his sudden weakness, Xiao went to where you were. He looks around, at the hill where your figure waved at him excitedly. It was a hill overlooking Liyue and it’s waters, isolated enough for him but he could still see the lanterns.

Bedgrudingly, he climed the hill with no difficulty. His eyes meet yours, who waved at him excitedly. “You actually came!” You chirp, grinning. You were sitting on a blanket laid on the grassy field, a basket besides you. With Xiao’s enhanced senses, he could smell the scent of Almond Tofu.

“Hm.” Was all he said in response, before coming to a stop next to you. He was about to tell you that he should go back and that he really didn’t wanna see this, when your hand clasped around his and brought him down.

Xiao yelped in surprise as he was forced to sit sown next to you, personal space be damned. He opened his mouth to retort, to tell you to let him go when you pointed at the sky with childlike excitement twinkling in your eyes. “Xiao, look! It’s so pretty!” You coo, a bright and awe’d smile on your lips. Hesitantly, Xiao let his eyes follow to where you were pointing.

It took Xiao’s breath as well.

The lanterns floated gently across the night sky, illuminating the dark abyss with twinkling lights. The lanterns reflected on the dark waters as well, lighting Liyue up with it’s brightness.

“Look, Xiao.” Your voice was suddenly soft, and he snapped out of his trance to look at you. You were smiling at him gently, eyes twinkling. “Liyue is like this because of you as well. You might not believe it, maybe you’ll never believe it, but if it weren’t for you as well, Liyue would never be what it is right now.” You told him genuinely, breaking your eye contact with him.

“You’ve spent eons watching over Liyue, protecting it’s people and fighting demons and monsters and gods for it. I think, you’ve done enough.”

Xiao’s breath hitched at your genuine words, his amber eyes stuck on your face. The lanterns reflected on your eyes, making it brighter and seemingly magical. You were smiling, in a way that had Xiao gasping for breath because of how beautiful it looked. Xiao falls silent, and his eyes trailed down to where you held his hand.

He startles when you suddenly squeezed his hand, and he looks up as you rip your gaze away from the floating lanterns to look at him.

“You’ve done well, Xiao. You can rest.”

Oh, Xiao thinks to himself as he watches you turn your gaze back st the floating lanterns. He watches as your lips curved, how your eyes twinkled, and how you held his hand firmly but he could pull away if he wished.

Is this what mortals call love? Xiao thinks as he drags his gaze to your interlocked hands.

He may never be truly clean - For he has done enough evil deeds to even be considered kind. He has slaughtered and he has eaten dreams.

But maybe this time, he can let himself happy.

For the first time, Xiao squeezes your hand back. You snapped your head to him in surprise, and what you got was Xiao staring at you, his amber eyes shining with gratefulness and love.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes widens at his soft voice, the sincerity behind his words and at how it seemingly made everything better. You curse yourself when your eyes watered, and you let a smile slip on your lips.

“...No problem, Xiao.”

And then Xiao’s lips curled as he looks up at the lanterns, and he thinks,

That maybe being in love wasn’t a bad thing.