#i ended up having so much more to say than i ever thought i would. and i'm not even sure how much sense it makes HFHFHHFH

[gangstalkerbarbie]

You're not a god, technically. A god is one of them big ones, the extraterrestrials, see?

You, like everything else in the world, were born here; your beginning is not before time and outside the world. Not a god. You're a daimon. It's a common misconception.

Still, in the space of that misconception there's honest work.

You're not sure the council upstairs (if it's even a council anymore) pays much attention to most of mortalkind, really, otherwise there wouldn't have to be witches to do work scholars are jealous of, but doesn't someone have to?

Sometimes the ones that do enough of it become angels. Sometimes the ones that do something better than anyone else become... well, just what is Silence, actually? Is that still what he goes by? When he was Death All-Devouring he had a few more teeth, you think.

Anyway: when official channels fatfinger a prayer, you have to know, and it's just sort of the case, ethically speaking, that you're to do something about it. Even if only to keep up the illusion that the world-machine works. That's kind of a duty incumbent on all of you immortals, these days. Just until the big boss ... well, the big boss cannot be said to ever be doing or thinking or going to do or think anything, so you're not sure where that was going.

And that's why you're here at this wedding — because a hundred, two hundred years ago they realised the big kahuna might not be listening, deep down, somewhere, and so now you are the wight of the marriage bed. Some say the angel. They're not sure. You're not sure either; you have perhaps a dot more free will than angels tend to, but you find yourself doing a lot of angelic kinda work.

Is the Immanence here, like She's supposed to be? Doctrinally (you are a daimon, you don't really care about doctrine outside the mechanics of your own existence) She doesn't fuck with mixed marriages, but She also conveniently is present every time two men talk about lofty matters, yes, even if they're talking objectively heinous anti-sense about women and children and beasts. So, you know. It's kind of touch and go here. Is mixed marriage more bad than womanhatred? Very important scholars debate the issue even now. Six thousand years of debate have yielded the answer 'yeah idk probably'. You cannot perceive the Immanence. You wouldn't know.

You do, however, know the future, and in the next thousand years, thankfully, they will perfect the shaping arts and learn to make men into women, and maybe they'll all be women then, what the hell. It's an optimistic thought. The other immortals kind of snicker at you and tell you to go look forward at what they do with chymics, self-made new forms of life, in that future, and what they themselves go mad with pain and grief and loneliness and do, for which reason you kind of don't want to.

You might go and listen in on some of those last debates instead, except, again: wedding.

To your profound disappointment, this wedding expects to make you co-in-laws, sort of, with a small unfriendly god, one of the daimons that really believes in it, waves their essence around. This is... about to get really annoying.

You actually don't even dislike Sowulo. Everything you know about them boils down to the fact that they've been experimenting with themself after their mortal followers degendered them — that's the trouble with the overreliant ones, the essence moulds to the understanding of the souls they shepherd and then you end up in no end of annoying circumstances. This would be why personally you've never investigated what gender you're supposed to be. Less for your people to contradict that way. Maybe you predate gender, how's that for a thought exercise? (You don't; you were born in the middle of the Age of Chitin; they don't have to know you're something smaller and duller wearing an old god's pelt.)

And, well, it's just... they're a little weird? OK. They're a lottle weird. You are pretty sure they are, like, super mega ultra weird. The situation is like this: their people, their little guys, they used to be these peaceful cattle nomads. Then the Aeon of Sails and the Great Industrialisation, and the dire circumstances that led them into the ghettos, and so on — and somewhere in that transition, the travelling spirit of the warmth of the sun that was their constant companion came into conflict with the new State doctrine that the stars are unfeeling miasmas of incandescent plasma. (Is that doctrine? That's how you understand most things. You're not sure of the semantics.)

So now: degendered, deprived of influence, a cold light, not a warm one. Invoked, at best, at afterbirth burials, confirmations, weddings, cremations, premarital haircuttings, housewarmings, slaughters, and for the end of winter when it dies under their hand. They're annoying and dangerous and haggard and raw-voiced as a hungry buzzard because they are starving, because they have lost themself, because they don't remember what they used to be and they don't know what they want to be now.

Sometimes a ship launches from the harbour of this city, and you are there because you have one of your people to look after, and they look out at you from shore, forlorn, jealous, abandoned, so hungry. So hungry. Mourning something they half remember, something they are convinced you have. That's why they incite their sophonts to kill yours, maybe. You wouldn't know. You've never asked. You're busy doing your job, keeping those sophonts safe.

They envy you your vitality. They wish they knew what they were. They think you know what you are, and they want you to get off your inconceivably tall high horse.

You're not on a high horse. You just are, and you try to make sure your sophonts can just be, too. But Sowulo doesn't know that.

Sowulo knows that their people are small and broken and scattered, and that each wedding with any other people weakens them — weakens the people and weakens their god.

Sowulo hates you.

And, like, you don't really play favourites, all mortals are the same to you deep down, but you understand that there is a Teensy Weensy little problem, perhaps, with the favourite son of their most warlike clan's Great Chanter running away from home to elope with a witch-midwife from beyond the Pale. Not because she's yours, but that doesn't make it better. Her own huntedness and fear and old pain doesn't do anything for the situation either. Sowulo doesn't understand yet that suffering is a universal condition of settled life.

Your marriage priest, a jolly little roundish woman in veils against the interference of spirits with her work, pounds her cowhide drum and begins her chant. Sowulo's shakes his solar rattle, completely unaware that his god is seething in the rafters of the fane. Are you going to have to save his life, then, before the sun is up? This is going to be a very long, unnecessarily laborious, and probably also very interesting night.

You are a god whose most devout follower is marrying your rival God’s follower. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem except you both are asked to bless the union, and for that both of you must attend.

[nativegirltapes]

when wag!reader tells basketballplayer!drew that she's going out, he wants to see her outfit, which quickly turns into more than just a quick showing . . . . .

warnings/notes: mutual masturbation kinda, phone sex, lots of teasing, drew being controlling ?, this is moreso the build up of it all, rather than the actual mutual masturbation (the build up is so much hotter imo ...) and kind of cut off at the end srryyy buuuuut hope you enjoy <3 ALSO i’m trying out something new, where i add tumblr links to show !readers’ outfit, pls lmk if you like <3

you told drew you were going out tonight, the first thing he said to that was ‘facetime me.’ via imessage. you thought maybe he outgrew his possessive phase of the relationship, but you were slowly learning that it was just a part of him. even though he told you to facetime him, he beat you to it. “jesus christ.” you mumbled to yourself before hitting ‘join call’.

“you’re still doing this?” you set your phone down on your vanity, taking a few steps back so drew could see your whole outfit, despite complaining you still complied. part of you grew hot and heavy over drew getting so possessive.

drew noticed the small things about your outfit. not the details a normal guy would; the intentional picking of your earrings or necklace, or how some nights you’d wear sluttier outfits if you and him argued a few days before. “what’s with the big jacket?” he questioned. “what? you don’t like it? you bought it for me.” you looked at yourself through the facetime call, possibly second guessing your fashion choices.

“no it’s cute. just wonderin’. spin.” drew demanded. the way he was staring so intently at the screen made you a little scared, like you might be getting in trouble for what he’s about to see. “what the fuck y/n. why is your whole ass out? jesus christ.” he snatched his phone from wherever it was stood up, you assumed he must have had his teammates around him. you rolled your eyes. “when is it not out?”

“yeah but it’s like really out today.” you watched drew get up from wherever he was sat. and wherever he went he closed the door behind him. “i’m in the bathroom.” he whispered. “okay?” you said confused, but also knowing exactly what direction this facetime was headed. “do a lil spin for me again.” drew smirked at the screen.

“are you fucking serious?” you held back a giggle. “cmonnn, don’t tease me.” drew pleaded with you. you gave in because he looked so fucking good. his basketball hat and mustache just calling your name through the screen.

you did as drew said, giving a him a lil spin, and even forcing your jean skirt up ever higher, which honestly didn’t seem possible given how high it already was. “fuck baby. you’re so fucking fine.” drew’s head fell back. you really didn’t know what you did to him, you had no idea actually, and he didn’t think that lightly. “what panties you wearin’?” drew touched over the growing bulge in his pants.

“the ones you bought me.” you said, referring to the black and pink thong he bought you just a week before. “lemme see baby.” god he was going fucking crazy. facetiming his girl in his teammates house about to jerk his shit to the mere look of you in your outfit? this might have been a new low for him.

you bent over for drew, giving your ass a little shake for him. you giggled to yourself before grabbing your phone off your vanity and running over to your bed and saying “okay my turn! bicep time!”

“really?” drew chuckled, he never understood why you liked his biceps so much, but nonetheless he flexed his arms for you in the bathroom mirror. you were lucky because today he was even willing to take off his shirt, you got to see it all; his big arms, his beefy shoulders, and his toned stomach. god, you wish you could just ride his stomach. but unfortunately you remembered you were literally on the phone. “you’re so fucking hot. wanna ride your stomach and grab your big arms.” you moaned out, not even realizing that your hand was on your clit, rubbing circles.

“yeah? what else baby?” drew groaned. you both got too lost in moment to realize you were talking each other through it … on the phone.

after you both came (in every sense of the word) to your senses, you both got kind of quiet. “okay well. bye.” you started reading for the red button. “change your out-” you cut drew off before he could finish.

[munsster]

hey girl!! so i was rewatching season 3 and saw the part where max and eleven are playing the spin the bottle and spying on people and had an idea! what if the reader is babysitting them and the girls drag her in to play and they spin in on steve, so she’s like “alright that’s enough” bc she doesn’t want to invade on her friends privacy but she sits through it anyway, and she hears him talking to robin about how much he likes her and wants to ask her out. IDK i thought that was cute :))

don’t hate the game

A/N: UR SO RIGHT THIS IS SO CUTE. I’m so glad i FINALLYYY found motivation to tackle it <3 (gif creds: @buckysbarnes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: The girls convince you to play an embarrassing party game from your past. It’s nothing like you remember. 2.4k words

Warnings: pet names (sweetheart, honey), ‘like’, overthinking, implied bullying, stupid pining, insecurity

It's a Friday night in the middle of summer, and you're wondering how you got here. Well, actually you're in your living room, so it's not that great of a mystery, but more confusing than that, you're letting two adolescent girls teach you how to play spin the bottle. If someone had told you at graduation that this is where you'd end up, you'd laugh right in their face.

Who's laughing now.

"But!" Max says, "if you hadn't noticed, none of these people are in the room, so how would we kiss them?"

You fight the urge to sink into your seat, blithely nodding and avoiding anything that might alienate you from your younger counterparts. You're almost sorry you surrendered your night to babysit two capable teens, but you promised El's dad who promised to pay you handsomely. Plus, they seem to like you enough to find you cool. Enough to tell you teenage secrets and complain about their boyfriends.

As they're explaining the rules, a memory creeps in of the first time you ever played this godforsaken party game. On Steve Harrington's floor in eighth grade. The cheers dying off as the mouth of the bottle slowed to a stop in your direction. No one expected him to actually lean over and kiss you. Or that you'd stay good friends despite his high school career soaring into stardom while yours sort of... didn't.

"We don't kiss them!" El chirps with an excited glint in her eye. The girls lean in like it's the first time they're hearing the rules but you're almost certain they made them up.

"Right. Instead, El here becomes our spy. I'm not exactly sure how it works, but she can see into their conversations or something. It's wicked." Max looks to El with something like admiration.

Intrigued, you glance down at the post-it notes arranged in a circle, scribbled with assorted names from yearbooks and yellow pages. A few you recognize: Mike and Lucas, one of the Hawkins Middle math teachers, even Will’s mom wasn’t safe from their antics.

But among the many names, you're most drawn to Steve. The way the letters loop and curl into his name, you go a little dizzy imagining that you really were playing the game. That he was seated across from you now. That he might lean over like he did the first time while your mind raced with a thousand possibilities. It's a prank or a dare or his wholehearted commitment to the game, anything other than his own free will.

You blink out of your silly, nostalgia-fueled trance when Max presses the cold glass bottle to your palm.

"You first."

They giggle and fall into each other when you half-twist the bottle. You're still in disbelief that you agreed to this as you watch the bottle spin, ticking off names as it loses momentum.

"Who is that?" you ask, leaning closer as if you'd read the yellow post-it wrong.

"Oh," El says. She cringes away from the board and crosses her arms over her chest in defiance.

"That bitch from P.E.," Max grumbles, and you have half a mind to scold her if you hand’t found universal bitch-aversion endlessly amusing. "You can spin again, she's not worth the trouble anyway."

You imagine your dream game once again. The bottle flies in the other direction at your fingertips, haywire and picking up a new gravity. It draws a wild, fiery line beneath your stare as you consider the possibility of Steve. It slows and slows until it's spinning almost at the same pace as Earth from a distance. Listening to the roaring sound of the universe as the bottle turns. Turns and turns and turns. Your eyes light up.

The girls giggle.

"No," you say sternly, regretting all your daydreams and fantasies in the face of cold, hard reality. "No, not Steve."

"Please!" they whine.

"Ladies, that's enough. He's a good friend, we're not spying on him."

They act like kicked puppies, though you know they're tricking you as they pout and bat their eyes. You know they know more than they should. About you. You and your feelings towards Steve Harrington. Something they discovered through a quiz in some teeny bopper magazine or other. Those magazines that somehow hold the secrets of the universe and the answers to every haircare question.

“Come on, I’ll make us popcorn and we can start a movie. A horror, if you really want.”

They seem satisfied enough, springing to the couch and settling into the cushions there.

The stove heats slowly. You fish through your cabinet for the last pan of Jiffy Pop, peeling back the thin cardboard cover when you hear snickering from the other room.

“What’s he saying?” Max whispers. You strain to hear her with your back pressed to the wall, just out of sight.

You shouldn’t be eavesdropping. You know better. You’re not a prepubescent girl anymore, you’re the babysitter with responsibilities. Like a job. Yet, you can’t seem to pull yourself away from the doorway. Every time you hear his name, your heart soars with what-ifs. You feel your eyes slip closed as El speaks.

“Steve is speaking to someone. I see her”—Your heart sinks—“Robin!”

You selfishly let out a breath. You’re mostly thankful he’s not spending his evening alone, but you also knew his friendship with Robin was strictly platonic. Robin had sworn by it without you even having to raise the question. You didn’t have to, she said, she could see it in your face. You wondered if Steve found you that transparent.

“He’s talking about… A girl. Her eyes. A smile. And he’s smiling, too. Oh, wait, now he’s frowning because Robin flicked him,” she says with a playful lilt.

She gasps.

“What?” Max yelps, shifting closer on the squeaky couch.

“Steve wants to confess his feelings. Big feelings, he says. Like-like.”

You not sure if that’s El’s paraphrase of Steve’s so-called big feelings or if the term like-like came from his own mouth. Neither option would surprise you. What does surprise you is that you’d never heard any of this from Steve before. You liked to think you were friends, even one of his best friends. He was surely one of yours. You told each other almost everything because you can’t exactly discuss complex relationships and sex with middle schoolers.

But you’d never heard of Steve’s seemingly new, mystery like-liker lover.

“He’s thinking of asking her out. Robin told him he might as well, it’s obvious that the girl he’s talking about likes him back. He doesn’t agree,” El says, her brows furrowed beneath the thick black blindfold, “Robin’s shouting. Steve looks sad.”

“What’s she saying?” Max whispers.

“Shh! ‘You like her so much, you might as well tell her and let her react. But I’ll say this, she’s going to say yes. That girl has been in love with you since the eighth grade’. He’s thinking.”

“Think faster, hair-brain!”

El giggles, her face suddenly falling serious. “‘Really?’” You stifle a laugh at the deeper voice she affects.

“‘She’s never said anything to me about it’. Robin looks angry. ‘Obviously, dingus! Do you go around telling people you’re in love with them?’”

“She has a point,” Max says. “Who’s he talking about?”

“I don’t know—Oh! Here we go,” El huffs, fists clenched eagerly, “He’s making a plan to ask her out, he’s going to call her. He’s getting up—”

Just then, the popcorn bursts from its aluminum confines with a bang. You let out a strangled noise between a yelp and a grumble, annoyed at the rude and very loud interruption. As you set the burner knob in place, you consider the fact that Steve has very real feelings for someone else. Someone who’s just not you. And as you shake the popcorn into a ceramic bowl, the landline rings.

“Will someone get that?” you call, grabbing a few small packages of sweets stashed in the cabinet. You hear the girls spring from the couch, and you shuffle into the living room to a giddy scene huddled around the receiver.

“Yes, she’s here!” El squeals. There’s a muffled response from the other line, and they share a conspiratorial glance.

“It’s for you,” Max says, handing you the phone with a smirk.

“Thank you. Go pick a movie while the popcorn’s hot.” You clear your throat, preparing yourself for the worst. Maybe your boss firing you or a repo man taking your TV. “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to interrupt girl’s night, I can call back later,” Steve’s gentle voice filters clear through the speaker. In the silence, static hums, and you press the phone closer to your ear.

Trying to listen for what he might be thinking. He sounds like rain. Like Sunday and a lack of pressure. He sounds inviting and warm like that big green sweater he’s always wearing. If only you knew he wears it because you adore it. You tell him every time; why would he ever stop.

“No!” you chirp, “no, perfect timing actually, we were just about to start a movie.”

“Oh! That sounds fun,” he says. You fidget with the springy cord, facing away from the living room and from the attention of the two flittering girls.

“Yeah,” you say, hoping he doesn’t recognize the disappointment coloring your tone. “So, how’d it go?”

He chokes a little. “How’d… what? Go?” There’s a soft snicker from the other line at his incidental voice crack.

“Your… I mean, did you have something you wanted to tell me?”

The line dips, but you hadn’t heard the telltale plastic clatter of a hang up. Just soft shuffling and a curse from under his breath. You curdle at the near silence.

“What did Robin tell you?” he grumbles.

“What? Nothing. Was she supposed to?”

“Well, no! I just called to tell you—”

He goes silent, and this time you’re actually convinced he hung up. There’s no sound at all, and you double check your receiver to make sure the problem’s not on your end.

“Stevie?”

“Yep, sorry. Just… feel silly.”

“Okay, you’re starting to scare me a little,” you hum, clutching onto the handheld.

“No! Sorry, not trying to scare you, honey, I just need to get something off my chest. But it’s not scary. Or, well, I guess it could be taken that way, and that would be okay. A little sad, but yeah, no hard feelings—”

At this point, you’re sure he’s talking about his prospective date. He knows you have a stupid, obvious crush on him, and he’s trying to soften the blow of new romantic conquest. Of course, introducing his new girlfriend to you would be terrifying, but you’d always put on a brave face for Steve. He knows that. He’d do the same for you.

“Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“Just get it over with,” you sigh, leaning your head against the wall and bracing for heartache.

“Right. Not trying to waste your time. Here goes.”

I’ve got a new, smoking hot girlfriend who just agreed to go on a date with me. And she’s got beautiful eyes and a gorgeous smile, and I’ve been in love with her since I can remember, and we’re gonna run away together forever and get married and have perfect babies.

“I like you,” he huffs.

“Well, duh, I like you, too, you’re only my closest friend,” you say. You’re tense, waiting for the other shoe to come hurling through the skylight. “Now, tell me.”

“No, sweetheart, I like-like you. Have since I was nine. Miss Boyd’s class, if I’m not mistaken.” There’s a soft thud like his forehead colliding with the wall beside his phone.

You inhale a shaky breath. He’s kidding, and it’s a prank. Your heart races, and you want to curse him out for picking on you. He should know better. Right?

“Steve,” you warble, “please tell me you’re joking.”

There’s more shuffling, muffled voices, and you think you’ve just exposed one long drawn out joke. You’re about to hang up with what’s left of your dignity when he says:

“Are you rejecting me?”

He sounds almost mad. Hair ruffled, skin on edge. How you imagine his father might sound just before one of his awful fits. But there’s something much softer to Steve, more understanding. Hurt like a child.

Still, you can’t help you suspicion.

“Quit it. I know it’s a joke, don’t drag it out.”

“Hey, wait a second,” he urges, “It’s not a joke. I like you. A lot.” He says it so softly, your heart just might believe him. As if all the stars have aligned, and he’s actually confessing his feelings for you. You didn’t think the stars did that. Not really, anyway.

There’s a new tune to his voice you’d almost name teasing, “c’mon, don’t leave me hangin’.”

And just like that, he’s back in school again, fawning over you from a distance, finding an excuse to tag you during recess only to avoid you in class so you wouldn’t see him blush. He’s back to whispered secrets through the phone at midnight so he’s parents wouldn’t catch him. He only ever told you what wouldn’t give him away. He’s back to not letting you pay for your ice cream and shrugging it off with a smile. He’s back, and he might just be yours.

“I—Sorry, you like me? Like like-like, like enough to ask me on a real date?” you huff. He chuckles.

“Well, that last part kinda depends on whether or not you like me back. But yes, I like-like like like-like you.”

You spin to face the living room only to be confronted by an empty popcorn bowl and two fidgety, blushing, wide-eyed teens. They urge you for answers, gesturing wildly and wiggling towards you across the floor.

“Of course, I like you. I thought you knew.”

“Everyone keeps saying that. I guess I was too distracted,” he admits.

“I guess we both were,” you say, unable to keep a grin from your face, succumbing to joy as your fingers dance along the telephone cord.

“So, how about that date?” It escapes him barely above a whisper. He can’t believe he’s actually saying it after all this time. The only thing that convinces him it even came out is your soft laughter.

“Sounds wonderful!”

“Good!” he coos.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Great, yeah. That’s… I can’t wait.” He’s earnest until his cheeks hurt, and Robin teases him for it.

“Tomorrow, it is,” you purr, nearly in tune with the low hum of the receiver, “I’ll call you later.”

“Bye, sweetheart. Don’t forget: I like-like you.”

You smile, slotting the phone back into its place. A chorus of giggles erupts at your feet. Spin the bottle had been a good idea, after all.

stranger things masterlist

[sentientcave]

Swallow My Pride

Simon spots you across the bar. You're a long way from the little girl that used to torment him in primary, but that's alright. These days he's got a soft spot for beautiful men.

Contains: FtM!Reader, Reader bullied Simon in primary school, alcohol/bar mention, smoking, oral sex (Simon receiving), Reader has hair long enough to pull a little, Implied fibre arts, abrupt ending because I wasn't gonna get into all that. Maybe later.

1.1k ~ MDNI ~ 18+

It figured that you'd be gorgeous now.

He almost didn't recognize you. Probably would have missed you entirely if not for the long, searching glance you'd given him, like he was familiar too. Back then you were a skinny, mouthy little bitch that made his life miserable until you moved away, and now you were a handsome, self-assured man, filled out strong and a little soft. Standing with your friends, laughing. They obviously didn't know that you were a venomous little viper under that easy smile and oversized, hand-knit sweater with wonky cables on the front.

The lads noticed his silence and singular focus. Johnny started acting up some, like he always did when Simon paid too much attention to another man.

"Y'gonna talk to the pretty boy?" he asked, exasperated. "Or jest leer at'm all night?"

"If you don't, I might," Gaz said. "It's cold out these days and he looks like he's comfortable to have a lie in with."

"Fine. I'll talk to 'im." Simon stood and shouldered his way over to you, cutting a swathe through the crowd of people lingering by the bar, and put a big hand on your shoulder. "Wanna talk t'you," he rumbled. "Follow me."

"Hey, what the fuck," one of your friends said hotly. "Don't be rude."

Simon glared at her, ready to snap, but you quickly put yourself between. "It's okay. I know him."

Simon steered you outside and shoved you up against the wall. "Recognize me, do you?"

"Of course. Thought you were dead, though. Saw you here a couple months back. Kept coming back, thinking I had to be nuts." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm surprised you recognize me."

"Maybe I wouldn't've, if I'd ever seen you as a woman. But we were kids. You've changed, but I know you."

You had been the worst thing in his life, outside of his home. Quick to point out his hand-me-downs and his shaggy hair, to knock things out of his hands. If you’d been a boy back then, he would have just punched your lights out, but even then he knew better than to hit a girl. You were fair game for a fight now, as far as he was concerned, but he wasn’t really that interested in fighting. Especially when you were giving him that kicked puppy stare, regret written all over your face.

Regret was a powerful motivator, and he liked the idea of you trying to make it right. He liked the idea of seeing what he could get out of it too.

"I never got to apologize. When I heard-- Fuck, you've been through it. Apologies don't seem like enough." You look at him, big eyes and soft mouth. So fucking pretty.

"It's not enough. Don't want to 'ear it anyway. Want to make it up to me?" He waits for your nod, then reaches for his belt. "Suck me off. Right 'ere."

You look stunned for a moment. He expected to to stalk off back inside-- He didn't really want an apology, didn't think there was any making up for it, not really. Just wanted to push your buttons a bit, more than anything else.

But you dropped to your knees on the dirty ground, and waited, patient as a well trained dog. "Good boy," Simon grunted, pulling out his cock. He liked the way your big eyes got bigger, a gleam of want in them. You'd grown up to be a proper slag. He slapped his cock against your cheek, and you turned to catch it, sliding your lips and tongue along the side.

"This why you 'ad t'be such a cunt back then?" he asked, grabbing your hair to keep you from sinking your mouth down onto his cock. "Wanted me so bad an' couldn't say so?"

You glare at him from the ground. "Do you want the apology or the head, Riley?"

"Makin' me choose, are you?" He let go of your hair, however, his laugh turning to a groan as you sucked the head of his cock into your hot mouth, tongue lapping at his slit to taste the bead of bitter precum.

He was going to be more of a dick about it, but he couldn't get a word in. You worked his cock like you were made for it, working your hand over the shaft when you lapped at the tip, swallowing around him when you sank all the way down, taking him into your throat, bobbing your head back and forth, spit dribbling down your chin and his balls, messy, like you knew that was just how he liked it.

He managed to communicate that he was going to cum, enough that you let him pop free and pump his come onto your waiting tongue, purposely missing a little, his come glistening on your cheek and caught just slightly in your hair. You swallow, grimacing slightly at the taste.

"You ever eat anythin' that has a lick of nutritional value?" you gripe, using your fingers to scrape his come off your cheek and into your mouth anyway.

"Get your trousers off an' I'll eat your cunt," he offered, groaning again when you sucked him into your mouth again, cleaning off the mess. "If y’still ‘ave one. Christ. I'm takin' you 'ome either way." He lit a cigarette, glancing at the door when it pushed open, ready to bark, relaxing when he realized it was just Soap and Gaz. "Hey, lads."

You side eyed them, but you finished your job first, sitting back on your heels and wiping your mouth with your sleeve as Simon tucked himself away again. Gaz and Soap stood there, gaping like fish until you stood up.

"That's gotta be a record," Gaz said. "You haven't been gone ten minutes."

"Well, pretty boy knows what 'e likes." Simon dropped a hand on top of your head and pulled you close to his side before you could duck out of the conversation. "Don't go, pup. Figure you owe the lads an apology too. You're the reason I'm so mean, and they've 'ad t'deal with it all this time." He slid his hand down the side of your face and hooked his fingers into your mouth roughly. "What d'you think?"

You look at the other two. Gaz was trying to look nonplussed as he lit his cigarette, but there was no hiding the hungry gleam in his eyes. Soap wasn't even bothering to be subtle. He looked you up and down, palming himself through his jeans.

You shove Simon's hand out of your mouth, grinning. "Oh, he's been real mean, has he?"

Soap stepped in closer, his fingers hooking into your pocket to reel himself in next to you. "He's been a nightmare. Yeh gonna make up for it?"

"Can try. Riley's always been pretty determined t'be a cunt though. It's not all my fault."

“Need to say goodbye to your friends?” Gaz asked.

“Nah. It was a date. Didn’t really like them anyway. Felt like they were just looking for a compromise between addin’ a man or a woman to their failing marriage. Not really keen to get into all that. This sounds more fun.”

Simon chuckled. “Good choice, pup. Let’s get goin’.”

I've been rotating this thought in my mind since I read this fic by @/soapcloth about Soap being Reader's childhood bully. Read that, and then all the other stuff they've posted because there's some very fun stuff and I highly recommend their work.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[kwondotcom]

hana— in our first ever conversation, i divulged to you that i've thought of elevatory at least once a week since i first read it. the reason why it took me a bit of time to do a proper rb is because i had annotated it on my second read, needed to take a min to breathe, and ended up only revisiting it now while clearing drafts/my tbr. so, here it is now on read #3!!! THIS WILL NOT BE THE LAST READ (THREAT)

tl;dr one of my favorite pieces of soonyoung writing. the premise in itself is probably the most unique i've seen in a long time, and it just drives me so insane to see such a well-done exes plot. spoilers under the cut. <3

WHAT A KILLER FIRST LINE. an actual art form, really, to have u hook line and sinker in the first sentence!

knew as early as this part that i'd be in for a wild ride. it's very telling of a post-break up sentiment, and it's a stellar set up for the MC's mindset.

there's a lot to love here. the touch of "nine now, but who's counting", the call back of "God hates you" and just. soonyoung's trying to make the most of it. oomf. because of course kwon soony would jump at this opportunity, would try to make small talk w/someone he's been no contact with. it's just his style, and it leads in well to the rest of the story. the next paragraph is actual pure gold: "- sad puppy, you've nicknamed it," following the description of soony as an open book. vicious and accurate read. goes really well with the descriptiveness of this:

(aha. i'm on to you, MC. you can say what you want, but at the end of the day, you can still read him. you still know him.)

i'm more than a little obsessed at a tactless soony + jeonghan, of course, inadvertently being the one at the crime scene.

the first part is already a punch in the gut in itself— the acknowledgement of their differences, serving as a bit of a gravity that explains how the two have acted so far. think the wrong side of magnets clinking against e/o lol. but what amazes me is how hana manages to manifest is a couple of sentences later. soony who winces, who is still obviously pained by his ala-taylor swift the moment i knew moment (i don't even want to think too much of the forgotten birthday scene or i will cry) vs. mc who's 'not sure why [you're] trying to reassure him'.

i said i don't want of the birthday flashback, but it must be said. this fucking line? shot to the chest and i'm in love with the shooter (hana). sighs.

[CAR CRASH] [GLASS SHATTERING] [EXPLOSION] “OH MY GOD” [BABY CRYING] “WAAAHH WAHH” [YELLING] “HELP MEE” [POLICE SIRENS] WEE WOO WEE WOEOO [YELLING] [HELICOPTERS] ‘WE’RE REPORTING LIVE-‘ [EXPLOSION] ‘MY LEG… MY LEG!!’ [BABY CRYING] “AHFUCKK SOMEONE HELP US” [REPORTER REPORTING] oh, this got got me. something about the intimacy of a name, so deceptively simple, and soony feeling the weight of the moment :") man.

this is my favorite flashback scene (and the eventual conclusion 'tried so hard/neither of you tried hard enough) for a lot of reasons. on one hand, there's something my friends and i call the burden of knowledge, which is something i feel jeonghan is vouchsafed in this scene. he's the one who hears out why MC wants to break up with soony, who talks her through it. "little things add up." my god, what a simple truth. part of why i adore elevatory so much— aside from being a study of form, an entire story told in a one-act that no one else besides hana could pull off— is because of the way it aches. it doesn't cut, like some stories might. it doesn't scar. it's just... a dull, familiar sort of throb. like a phantom pain. i think that's the best way to put it. cuts scab over. scars heal. but aches are forever, and this is exactly what that fic does. some old forgotten breakup, some bitterness at the circumstances, some truths packaged in a kwon soonyoung fanfic that remind you right, my pain of that-time-we-don't-talk-about is somewhat universal. it's comforting, in the same way that it's damning, to realize that there are people who know y/our pain that same way. to read it back, though— to have it glaring up at you— is just. a one-of-a-kind experience.

the lead-in to the breakup is devastating, because it really is that, sometimes. you realize love in the tender mundane, which means you can also loss love on a random weekday. "... after realising you had no idea where he kept his cereal bowls" is just an absolute gut-punch. like, ah. this is a life we're supposed to be sharing, a small fact i would know if it weren't for all the distance and time apart (what kind of girlfriend doesn't know where their boyfriend keeps their cereal bowls?!) and it just. little things, as jeonghan had said. also: something so cruel in the breakup starting, and consisting, of MC just saying soonyoung. this, after present-day soony is jolted when MC says his name? yeah. abso-fucking-lutely brutal, man.

won't even try to act like i can be coherent about this when i started crying actual tears the first time i read this passage. even now, my eyes are skipping over the words in an attempt to guard my heart against that impending pain. like, hey, hana. what the fuck! reminds me of a poem, which i'm attaching here. "but i remember our kindness that day, / when it longer mattered."

i can tell you exactly when i first read this (second week of january -ish) and when i read it a second time (earlier this month; the aborted annotation attempt), and i just wish you could've seen the look on my fucking face/the gasp i gusped when it ended with this. i rate about it a lot already in this little post, but it bears repeating: pulling off a one-act/one-setting piece is no easy feat, and you do it with such finesse. the un-chronological order of the flashbacks, the glimpses of their present selves and how they've changed/how they're still like their past versions, and this ending. absolutely bowls me over. hana, you have talent that bursts at the seams. elevatory is living, breathing proof.

You were once deeply and irrevocably in love with Kwon Soonyoung, and it’s incredibly hard to avoid that fact when he works literally two offices down from you. It’s even harder to avoid when you’re stuck in a broken elevator with him for hours, and he seems determined to dissect everything that went wrong three years ago.

⇢ pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, exes!au, lawyer!au

⇢ wc: 5.6k

⇢ warnings: minor alcohol consumption, lots of flashbacks

⇢ a/n: early happy new year!! this is my gift to u all <3 thank u to @haologram for hosting this collab and for just being alive. and thank you SOO much to ally @lovetaroandtaemin and em @gyuswhore for beta'ing i appreciate u both endlessly 💗

as part of the don’t hate, litigate! collab hosted by the wonderful @haologram

SOMETIMES IT TRULY feels like God, or the stars in your skies, or whatever the hell is controlling your fate down on this measly earth, hates you.

Sometimes it truly feels like this indefinite being is determined to deal you the worst set of cards, and this – this trumps all. Being stuck in an elevator with your ex-boyfriend sounds like the beginning of a shitty romcom, except it’s not. It’s your life, and it’s been your life for the past eight minutes, since the metal box you stepped in ground to a creaky, noisy halt halfway between the sixth and seventh floor. 

And it takes eight minutes before Soonyoung sighs resignedly. “Are you just going to ignore me forever?” 

Forever, you think, is your least favourite word. There were a lot of things you thought you’d have forever, and one of them is standing right next to you.

You swallow thickly. Your reply comes measured and clipped. “For as long as possible.”

When he speaks next, you can hear the attempt at a forced smile in his tone. “Well, you kinda just failed.”

You stay silent. If anyone had told you five years ago that Kwon Soonyoung would be begging to talk to you and you’d be ignoring him, you would have called them crazy; and yet, here you are. Ignoring him like your sanity depends on it, because actually, it does. So for the past eight minutes – nine now, but who’s counting? – you’ve barely spoken a word. You’re both stuck; the recovery team can’t make it for two hours at least; and God hates you, basically.

Soonyoung’s trying to make the most of it, and you’re not letting him.

He says your name, ever so softly. “Really, though. How – how have you been?”

It’s weird, going from years of no contact to working together. It’s been a year since Soonyoung joined your company, but it hasn’t become any easier. Not when he’s such an open book, so fucking easy for you to read. Every time you cross paths, he gets this look in his eyes – sad puppy, you’ve nicknamed it. Now is no different.

“I’ve been okay,” you say finally, stiltedly. You’ve never been able to resist that face, and you’re pretty sure he knows it too. “What about you?”

The silence is painful, but the way he says fine stings a little bit more. You know when he’s lying, and he never used to do that to you.

“So…” He shifts his weight awkwardly, huffing out an uncomfortable laugh as he gazes intently at his shoes. “This is weird, right?”

You match him with an equally uncomfortable smile. “The weirdest.”

“Our longest conversation after forever,” he says. “But I wasn’t expecting it to go like this.”

You cock your head to the side, fixing him with a questioning gaze. All hopes of ignoring him are sailing out the hypothetical window. “How were you expecting it to go?”

Soonyoung looks up at you with one of those embarrassed, endearing smiles. “Better.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and then – “You know, Jeonghan calls you the one that got away.” 

He’s always had a habit of dropping things like that on you; things that leave you a little winded.

“That makes it sound like I escaped,” you say, with an ease you don’t feel.

Clearly, Soonyoung doesn’t feel it either — he exhales heavily. “Maybe you did. Escape, I mean.”

You snap your head towards him, eyes almost owlish in your surprise; “You’re not serious.” When he doesn’t say anything, you continue haphazardly, “Soonyoung, that’s not — there wasn’t anything to escape from.” 

Your ex-boyfriend looks miserable. Avoids eye contact, staring fixedly at his shoes with a dejected expression he can’t properly disguise; even throughout the three years of your relationship, you rarely saw him like this. He looks…

Heartbroken, your mind suggests.

“I’m serious,” you insist again, pushing the thought out of your mind. “You weren’t a bad boyfriend, Soonyoung.”

He snorts then. “Okay, we both know that isn’t true.”

“It is!” 

“If we had, like, a counter of who fucked up however many times, I would leave you in the dust.”

You don’t know how to tell him this might even be half of it. This weird pedestal he puts you on – it’s not even guilt-tripping. You’ve seen that, but never from him; Soonyoung just truly, sincerely feels bad. Whenever you look back on your relationship, which is more often than you’d care to admit, it’s plain as day. He truly, sincerely feels that he has never deserved you. Like you’re something out of this world, out of his world. 

“Wow.” Soonyoung huffs out the one word, and it’s half a laugh, half admiration. “You are so out of my league.”

“Stop,” you whine, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Don’t say stupid things like that.”

“Well, not everyone gets to date the prettiest girl in law school,” he retorts quickly, lifting his brows. “Not sure why I of all people get to, but thank you.”

“Stop it,” you repeat, rolling your eyes and fixing the tie he’s wearing. “You’re gorgeous and you know it. You should know it, at least.”

“Not just that!” he protests quickly. “I just mean… you’re so smart. And good. And kind, and funny, and — ”

“Ah, yes! Of course, Kwon Soonyoung, known famously for being mean and horrible and extremely unfunny,” you say sarcastically, before tugging his tie and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I choose my league, and you’re the only one in it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he murmurs, slightly breathless.

“Oh, shut up and kiss me.”

There were a lot of things that went wrong with you and Soonyoung. You’d started off wonderful: both of you bright, flaming, drawn to each other like magnets. You managed the stresses of law school, graduated together, and lined up jobs – jobs that were miles and miles from each other.`

There were lots of things that went wrong with you and Soonyoung, but if you had to pick one, it would be long distance.

“When did we stop trying?”

The question makes you snort. “What, you want a date and a time?”

Soonyoung smiles ruefully, but there’s nothing happy about it. It’s more of a painful grimace. That’s always been the way with you both: you deflect, he feels. He doesn’t hide the way you do, not from anyone. And for a few years, he was the only one who you didn’t hide from. 

Maybe that’s what has you opening your mouth again. “I could probably give you one. A date, I mean.”

Soonyoung hugs his knees to his chest, eyes searching your face. You can read him so well it physically makes you ache. The hint of uncertainty in his eyes, the twitching of his fingers – he’s nervous. He’s torn between wanting to know what you have to say and the strong sneaking premonition that it might hurt. “Go on,” he says finally, just as you knew he would. 

Honestly, you don’t have an exact date. Things fell apart slowly, and then all at once. A toppling tower – leaning, leaning, leaning, until it crashed. 

“There were probably a few things,” you say, softly. “My birthday, for a start.”

He winces reflexively. “That…” he begins, and then breathes out, shutting his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for that.”

“I mean, in the end, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” You’re not sure why you’re trying to reassure him, even if it's true. You forgave him almost immediately.

“Shit.” 

Soonyoung’s first eloquent word when he walks into the apartment only means you become sure of what you already suspected. He takes in the half-eaten cake on the table, candles blown out and tossed to the side, the scraps of wrapping paper littering the floor, the cards; you take in his face. And you know, as quick and as simple as that – he forgot. 

Some small part of you had been holding a sneaking hope that maybe this was just an elaborate attempt at a surprise. You’d told him once, months and months ago, that you didn’t think ignoring people on their birthday to surprise them later was a very nice thing to do. But you’d rather he forgot that than your entire birthday.

His eyes meet yours, both of you frozen to your places. Him at the doorway, you at the table. The distance between you isn’t more than a few metres, but suddenly it feels like an engulfing abyss. Still, even from the other side, you can feel the guilt pouring out of him. 

“Shit,” he says again, before rushing his words out. “Shit, baby, I’m so sorry.”

You haven’t cried all day. You haven’t let yourself, but this has your eyes brimming over before you can control it.

“I’m going to bed,” you say finally, hugging yourself tightly, making yourself smaller. The apartment is warm, but you suddenly feel freezing. And despite your best efforts, there’s a waver in your voice, verging on a crack. “I’m tired.” 

You glance over the remains of your birthday party, one that you plastered a fake, painful smile on the whole way through, and then you turn to leave. 

“Baby, wait,” he implores quickly, and takes a step towards you — you mirror it immediately with a step back, and it makes him pause, his expression falling even further. “Baby.”

“You’re not allowed to call me that.” Your voice is obviously shaking now. “Not today. Maybe — maybe tomorrow.”

Maybe tomorrow you’ll be able to hear his excuses, his promises, but today, you’re allowed to be upset. You’ll let yourself have today, at the very least.

He’d driven hours to see you that day, but he’d still forgotten why he was there. You hadn’t really celebrated your birthday before you met him. Soonyoung was the one who made it a big deal, back when you first started dating, and even now, there’s a sharp pang in your chest when you remember how hurt you were that day.

“You made up for it tenfold,” you remind him now, because it’s true. He made the rest of the week practically a utopia, once you banned him from apologising. And he’d been so busy at work, so incredibly tired the whole month before, and you could understand. Both that he upset you, and that it was an innocent mistake. And you’ve never seen more sincere apologies than those that came from Soonyoung.

He looks grim, shakes his head, but doesn’t say any more. Probably because you’ve had this conversation a few times already, both of you too stubborn to give in. 

“Keep going,” he says, then, looking at you head on. “What else?”

All of a sudden, you don’t want to talk about what else. All of a sudden, you’re annoyed with him, his stupid face, this stupid elevator. “Do we have to do this?” Your voice has switched from somewhat reassuring to harsh – for want of a better word, angry. It makes his brown eyes a little round with surprise, his mouth parting a little.

“What?”

“What else and what if have been on my mind for three years, Soonyoung,” you say acidly. “Forgive me if I don’t really want to talk about it to your face.”

Again, his mouth opens a little bit, stays open as he tries to form words. Until he gives up, seals his lips and nods. “Alright. Okay. That’s fine.”

“I know it’s fine!” you cry out, only more angry that he won’t argue back. You’re lawyers, it’s what you do. And just to be petty, you add — “Besides, I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about this anyway.”

Finally, his passive poker face drops, and he looks a little confused. “My what?”

Immediately, you regret opening your mouth, but it’s too late to back down. “Your girlfriend. You know, that girl from accounting.”

“The girl fr— You mean Rachel?” Soonyoung gapes at you, and something in you bridles, until he continues. “Mrs Choi, who's married to her wife and adopting a kid next year?”

Well, now you feel stupid as fuck.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he continues, and if you weren’t afraid to look at him right now, you’d swear he was hiding a smirk.

“Whatever. I don’t care. Why are we even talking about this?” you snap, irritated and embarrassed.

He still sounds smug. “You brought it up.”

“You sit with her every lunch hour,” you mutter, heat creeping up your neck. “I just assumed.”

“Well, there’s nothing there. So don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried! I don’t care who you date, Soonyoung!”

He looks a little taken aback, blinking once or twice, cockiness gone without a trace. “Wow,” he says, finally. If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you wouldn’t notice the slight tremble in his voice. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name since — ”

He cuts himself off, but you complete the sentence in your head — three years ago. Three years since you packed up and walked out of his life. It feels like a decade ago; it feels like last week. You’d been so sure that you wouldn’t see his face again after that, that it was a decided end of a full four years of your life. Until last year, when he’d waltzed straight back into your life, this time at your workplace.

“This is the new hire.” Your boss is speaking, but you’re still finishing up the last sentence on the document you’re working on, and you listen absently as he fires a couple instructions — “Jeon, you’ll show him around. Filing system, get him logged on, the works.”

You look up then, to cast Wonwoo a knowing smile, because he always gets lumped with showing around the newbies, but halfway to making eye contact with your friend, you catch the familiar tilt of a jaw, the soft lines of a nose you know so well.

You’ve seen Soonyoung in a hundred people since you left him. You’re always looking over your shoulder at the bus stop, at the grocery store, at the library, finding a tiny piece of him in everyone and everything, a tiny piece that lodges itself tight and sharp into your throat until you take a second look, until you see unfamiliar eyes or too dark hair or shorter legs. Until you find something to make you swallow, exhale, and keep walking.

Now, your second look doesn’t yield anything unfamiliar. Except maybe his hair, gone from blonde to black, but everything else — everything else. It’s him, and he looks just as shocked to see you as you are to see him. There’s a heavy moment that seems only heavy to the two of you, everyone else still talking, the boss still giving instructions, but you and Soonyoung are looking at each other, dumbfounded, and all you can think about is the distinct taste of bile in your throat and the tie he’s wearing is the one you got him for his birthday.

Your initial plan is to avoid him. He foils that plan within two hours, cornering you in the break room, whispering urgently, “I had no idea you worked here, I swear I’m not, like, following you or – ”

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, and you just pin him with a blank stare. 

“I could quit.”

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the sentence. “I’m not so butthurt that I can’t be a professional.”

“Right,” Soonyoung nods, breathing out a little. His lips are chapped. He never used to wear lip balm, just used to borrow yours. You hate yourself a little for remembering that.

The memory almost makes your lips twist with an sardonic smile. “I was so pissed when you showed up here.”

You can see his half smile, rueful and charming, through your peripheral vision. “I felt so bad about it, you know. But you just seemed annoyed when I saw you in the break room, so I figured you weren’t… mad or upset or anything.”

“I went straight from the break room to cry in the bathroom for fifteen minutes,” you admit truthfully. “I had to tell Wonwoo I had curry for breakfast.”

“You cried?”

You scowl. “I’m not saying it to be pitied, Soonyoung. I’m just saying, I’m not, like, some heartless jerk with no feelings. Of course I was upset.”

“I know that,” he says quickly, vehemently. “Of course I know that.” He hesitates, and then continues, words practically inching out of him. “It’s not really my place to ask, but… you and Wonwoo… are you guys…?”

“You’re right,” you say, and press your cheek onto your knees to fix him with your eyes. “It’s not your business. But that’d be hypocritical of me, so… no. No, we’re just friends. I’m friends with his girlfriend too, Cam, she works at the plant shop down the road.”

Soonyoung tilts his head back, lets out one of those breathy laughs that aren’t really laughs. “It’s so weird that you have new friends now.”

“Thanks,” you say, dripping with sarcasm.

“Not like that! I just mean I’m so used to – like, it used to be our friends, you know what I mean?”

“Not since three years ago,” you say with false lightness, because when you lost Soonyoung, you lost the friends he brought you too. You catch the glint of pity in his eyes again, and scoff. “It’s not a big deal. They were your friends first.”

Frowning, he speaks again. “First doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter to them either. Seungkwan said you were the one who stopped answering their calls.”

It’s true, and the feeling still burns a little, because Seungkwan and Jeonghan had called so many times. Even Vernon called a couple times, and you weren’t even that close to him, but Soonyoung has always attracted good people. Like calls to like. Maybe that’s why you ended up leaving.

“I was trying to make it easier,” you say bluntly., “for them to choose you.”

Your ex-boyfriend clicks his tongue, rakes a hand through his dark hair. “It’s not about sides, ___, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, it felt like it at the time, alright?” Your words come out louder than you mean them to, and you pause, trying to quell your defensiveness. 

Soonyoung raises his hands in half-hearted surrender. “Alright. Alright.”

Something in your stomach feels acidic. Leaning your head back against the cool wall of the elevator, you manage to meet his eyes apologetically. “How – how are they, though? Seungkwan and everyone?”

Graciously, he ignores your quick show of temper. “They’re good. Seungkwan’s working freelance photography now. Jeonghan still hates his job, but keeps getting promoted anyway.”

Jeonghan. You told him you thought you were going to break up before you even told Soonyoung. You wonder if he remembers it, because that night is seared into your memory – New Year’s Eve, three years ago.

You’re much drunker than you ever intended to be when you finally find a place to sit in the cramped apartment, waved over by a sympathetic looking Jeonghan. He pats your head affectionately as you groan. 

“Feeling alright?”

“No,” you say elaborately.

Jeonghan never pries, which is probably what makes people tell him everything. He only raises his eyebrows at you, a hint of scepticism toying with his smile.

You look away, eyes drawn immediately to your boyfriend, laughing in the middle of the kitchen. Throwing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut, looking so fucking happy; when you see him like this, your heart always feels so incredibly warm and so incredibly full. 

Except today, there’s something else intertwining it, something similar to dread, and it causes the faint smile on your face to fade a little.

Jeonghan sees it, of course, and when you look back at him, his eyebrows only raise higher. 

You sink further into that horrible, looming feeling. “Jeonghan.”

“___.”

“I think I’m going to break up with him this year.”

If you didn’t know Jeonghan as well as you do, you’d think the information hadn’t affected him at all; his features remain completely impassive, but you catch the flash of surprise in his eyes. He stays quiet for a long time, the silence between you filled with thumping bass and indistinct conversation, until finally, he asks the only question there is to ask. “Why?”

It’s ridiculous, how one word can bring you to the verge of tears. But that one word holds so much weight – why would you break up with him? Why would you, when you’ve pictured a future with him a thousand times over? 

Why would you leave the best thing that ever happened to you?

You blink back the tears, and Jeonghan waits.

His voice is soft, but you still hear him under the din of the party. “Is this about your birthday?”

You shake your head quickly. “No.” You stop. “Maybe. It’s – there’s just – little stupid things.”

“Little things add up,” Jeonghan says gently. You hate how he’s already understanding.

“Sometimes – ” You swallow thickly. “Sometimes I just feel so far away from him.”

You don’t have to explain that you don’t mean physically. Because that’s part of it, but it’s not all of it, but without you saying that, Jeonghan knows. You barely notice when he takes your plastic red cup from your hands, setting it on the table next to him. “And I know he loves me, and he’d never hurt me on purpose, and – he’s been so good to me, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan only hums, waits for you to continue. And you do, the alcohol only pushing more words out of your mouth. “The distance,” you say, “is killing us.” You rub furiously at your eyes. “No matter how hard we try, Jeonghan, it’s not working, and I feel like – I’m the only one who can see that. He’s ignoring it, but we can’t keep going like this.”

Jeonghan hesitates for a second, looking torn, more torn than you’ve ever seen him look. “Do you still love him?”

Tears blur your vision again, but don’t quite escape this time. “I don’t know how to stop.”

When you kiss Soonyoung after the countdown, your cheeks are wet.

“Long distance.”

“What?”

“You asked what else,” you say, picking at your nails. “I think it was the distance. I think that’s what – you know. Broke us up.”

Soonyoung has that look in his eyes, the one where he wants to argue but knows he’s going to lose, knows that you’re right. He breathes out, licks his lips and tries to speak. “We tried so hard.”

It’s not even a counter-argument. You agree with him, even. The two of you were brilliant at long distance, until you weren’t. Hours-long video calls, surprise weekend visits, staying over for the holidays, until it all started collapsing. Weekly movie nights kept getting postponed. Visits had to decrease in number. You were missing each other’s calls – if one of you wasn’t working late, the other always was. It was like the entire universe was working against you both, and suddenly, you felt like a burden rather than a lover, and Soonyoung would probably say the same. It’s hard not to feel that way, when you’re celebrating your anniversary over FaceTime and both of you keep dozing off while the other talks.

In a way, Soonyoung is right: you both tried so hard. In a way, he’s so wrong: neither of you tried hard enough.

Towards the end of it all, you were too tired to fight. Both of you were. The breakup was a quiet affair, mostly. You brought it up first, standing in the kitchen of Soonyoung’s apartment after realising you had no idea where he kept his cereal bowls.

“Soonyoung?”

“Babe, I told you, it’s the third cupboard from the left,” he calls, but he’s rounding the corner to his kitchen anyway. He stops in his tracks when he sees your face, smile fading, and for a second, time freezes.

“Soonyoung,” you say again, quieter.

And he knows. “Don’t,” he says, faintly, but there’s no weight behind it, because he knows.

Tears are already brimming your eyes, and you’re wrapping your arms around yourself, shaking your head. “I can’t,” you say, and you’re not sure what you mean. I can’t end it. I can’t keep going.

The picture before him is enough for Soonyoung, and any defence, any fight he still had in him (because he’s always been the more tenacious) drains. He gives in, same as you. 

“Okay,” he says, in a voice that’ll haunt you for years to come, a clashing harmony of gentle and damning. “Okay.”

You try to formulate words. You fail. All that you can say is “Soonyoung.” before you trail off. 

You don’t finish. He gives you a tired, forced smile, says something about, “We had a good run, didn’t we?”, but you’re too busy trying to wrench the tears back into your eyes to focus properly. Your efforts are in vain, of course, tears slipping down your cheeks hot and heavy, no matter how much you try to stop.

“I’m sorry,” you say tearfully, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t be sorry.”

After that, he only helps you load your bags into your car and says thank you when you give him the house keys. He does everything so quietly, so methodically, so defeatedly. It’s like he’s just lost a war he’s been fighting for far too long.

It turns out that in the end, four years can be reduced down to this: two cardboard boxes, three bin bags, and two broken hearts.

It’s your fault, in technical terms. You finished this. You’re the one who said the words, or almost said them, the one who spelled out what was so obviously ignored. More than once, because you’d tried this before, six months ago. Soonyoung was the one who fought back. He’d said no, of course, that first time. He’d said no with tears in his eyes, like it was a surprise to him, like he couldn’t see it the way you saw it — that you were on two very different paths. 

Soonyoung didn’t believe in following diverging paths, he believed in forcing yourself straight ahead hand-in-hand, come hell or high water. He believed in it, until he didn’t, and then he let you go.

When it’s time for you to leave, he accepts the hug you can’t help but fling on him just before you step in the car. Both of your arms around each other, fitting into place like you have a hundred times before, but so much tighter and so much briefer this time. Soonyoung clings to you like he’s never going to see you again, because he isn’t. You cling to him like this is the last time you’ll ever hug him, because it is.

And then both of you are pulling away, laughing awkwardly at the wet patch you’ve left on his shirt, and then you’re getting in your car and he’s waving you off and it’s over, just like that.

“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” There’s an acerbic quality to Soonyoung’s laugh as he continues. “We broke up because of distance, and here we fucking are.”

There’s a metre and a half between you two.

“Maybe it was a dumb reason,” you say. Voicing the thought that’s tormented you since the day you drove away. Because maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was a temporary rough patch, and if you’d stayed, if you’d fought a little more and a little longer, you’d still have Soonyoung.

But you didn’t, and you don’t.

There’s a heavy expression on Soonyoung’s face, a strange mix of anger and confusion and guilt. “Maybe,” he says, at last. There’s the vaguest trace of bitterness, the little tiny sting that reminds you again that you’re the one who called it quits. 

“It felt like the weight of the world at the time,” you say ashamedly, squeezing your eyes shut for a second.

Soonyoung takes the chance and scoots closer to you, sitting against the wall with you, shoulder-to-shoulder. (How easy it would be to just rest your head there, as you’ve done a thousand times before.) “It can’t have been easy,” he says, patting your hand with his own. Warm and familiar in its unfamiliarity, which is when you realise you’ve misread him, for once – he’s not bitter. He’s empathetic.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Soonyoung continues softly, rubbing his eyes, “but God, I wish you’d just talked to me. Actually — I wish we’d talked to each other.”

“Yes, well,” you say dryly, wondering if he’s going to catch your reference, “I’ve always had a problem with communication.”

He catches it; it makes him pause, lift up his head, give you a tiny smile.

It takes you a minute to register that the seat across from you has been occupied. When you do look up, you realise Soonyoung’s mouth has been moving since he sat down, and you haven’t heard a word of it. Also, somewhere between the class you guys shared two days ago and his presence in the library this morning, his hair’s gone from a discreet dark brown to a particularly indiscreet blond.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, taking out your earphones and setting down your pen. “What?”

“I said – do you have a problem with communication or something?” Despite the nature of his words, he’s practically beaming at you.

You blink at him, bewildered. “I mean… maybe? But — what?”

He holds up his phone. “Project,” he explains elaborately. “I’ve been texting, and I didn’t get a reply, and then I saw you over here, so I thought I’d ask.”

You frown, grabbing your phone. “I didn’t get any texts.”

Soonyoung mirrors your expression, tapping at his screen, and you’re struck by how much the blond suits him. As did the brown. As did the black he had a semester ago. Not that you’ve been keeping track, but it’s hard to not notice someone like Soonyoung. Even if the first time you talked to him was two days ago to organise the project you’ve been paired up for — you know him. Of him, at least.

He swivels his screen round to face you, showing you a contact with your name and what you quickly realise is almost your number. You smile a little awkwardly, tapping the last digit. “That’s meant to be a seven. You’ve got an eight.”

“Fuck,” he exhales, “that explains it. Who the hell have I been texting about litigation then?”

Something about his expression and his tone is so comical it makes you laugh, which surprises him a little – he glances up at you with a blatantly admiring smile, and he taps the edge of the desk. “Your eyes light up when you laugh, did you know?” And as quickly as he says it, he moves on, gesturing to your phone. “I’ll text you about the project, okay?”

He’s like a hurricane, and you’re trying your best to keep up. “Okay,” you agree confusedly, still hot-faced from the sudden compliment. “Yes. That’s — yes.”

As he gets up to leave again, he shoots you another one of those blinding, dazzling smiles, and sticks his hand out. “We’re friends now, right?”

His question sounds childishly sweet, and you can’t find it in yourself to do anything other than agree. 

Your one little reference sets you both off. You spend the next two hours talking and talking and talking, every other sentence beginning with “Remember when…”, as the two of you dredge up the long-buried memories of four long years spent together.

Soonyoung talks about the massive crush he had on you before you even got paired up for the project. You talk about how you never believed him, even when he did ask you out – it took three tries before you understood how serious he was. And then you remember the time Soonyoung sprinted from campus to his accommodation and back just to get you the calculator you forgot for your exam – and the time you both went to a frat party and ended up playing the most intense game of UNO in the bathroom with Vernon, which ended in a drunk Soonyoung trying to flush the cards down the toilet. 

He talks about the surprise party you threw for his birthday, and you talk about the time he tried to make you pancakes for National Girlfriend Day and failed horribly. You ate them anyway.

You don’t, however, talk about other things, even if you remember them. You remember Soonyoung kissing your forehead every morning he woke up next to you. You remember him buying your favourite flowers for your favourite vase every week. You remember coming home after a long day to food already delivered and paid for when he was working hours and hours away. You remember being so incredibly in love that it made you giddy and so in love it made you calm. And you don’t talk about it, just store it away somewhere as a reminder of what love is meant to feel like. If four years with Soonyoung brought you anything, it’s that: it taught you how to love and be loved.

When the recovery team finally arrives, you leave the elevator feeling like a new person. It doesn’t hurt when you look at Soonyoung anymore, there’s only a vague, warm fondness. And he can look you in the eye now, which he does. He smiles at you, sticks out his hand the same way he did all those years ago.

“We’re friends now, right?”

an / AHHH!!!!!! i know this fic is only like 5k but it took a lot out of me so i’d love to hear your thoughts. literally any thoughts. i wanted this fic to be longer but it happened this way and. what can i do. i may be the author but im NOT in control. it’s not a fic i’m 100% proud of but i think it’ll still hold a special place in my heart!!!! i love an angsty exes au.

anyway — this will be my last fic this year!!! see you all in 2025 and thank you so much for all the notes and all the reblogs and all the wonderful conversations this year i love you

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon

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[sluttysnowangel666]

Pentagon - thanos/ choi su bong x reader

request/summary: at your friend nam gyu’s request, you accept an invitation to “black out night” at his club, where he also invited his friend thanos. you both cross paths, leading to an interesting… discussion.

pairings: su bong/thanos x reader

warnings: smut, club hook up, fingering, p in v, unprotected, fwb mentioned with nam gyu, drug use.

use discretion when reading past the line. not responsible for the content you consume. 18+, mdni

———

“You’re such a fake friend!”

“Oh, Jesus, Nam Gyu. Will you grow up? It’s a Wednesday night-“

“But it’s black out Wednesday!” He whines, throwing his head into your pillow.

He’d been begging you to come to his stupid club for weeks, but each time you only responded with a “Maybe. I’ll decide for sure later,” which you never ended up doing. Now, the night before had finally came and you were set in your decision that no, you would not be attending.

“Yeah, which means Thanksgiving is Thursday-“

“What makes you think I give a fuck about some stupid American holiday?” He yells.

“What makes you think I give a fuck about getting black out drunk at your stupid club?!” You yelled back, the words coming out before they could stop. Your hand flew over your mouth, and Nam Gyu’s playful demeanor changed. “Nam Gyu, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“Whatever. See you after the holiday, I guess.” He says, grabbing his coat to leave.

“Wait, Nam Gyu, don’t go. We still have to smoke, Nam Gyu!” You called after him, as he quietly closed the door behind him. You sighed.

“Fuck.” you had really done it this time.

You hurt his feelings when all he had wanted to do was spend some time with his friend at his club since you never go out. And now that you had dug yourself into this hole, the only way you could dig yourself out was by going.

You texted and called his phone, but he didn’t answer. And at this point, the only way to get his forgiveness was to just show up.

So, you took an everything shower, laid out one of your few dresses best fit for a club(a cute little short and black strapless dress that wasn’t leaving much up to imagination), and then went to bed.

Of course, you didn’t sleep well. Your mind was racing with thoughts of what tomorrow night would hold, because you weren’t one to make the best decisions when drunk. In fact, you and Nam Gyu had hooked up once or twice after attending his club and getting too hammered. It would probably happen again this time, but you felt like you owed it to him after your outburst.

The night eventually came, and your outfit was was jaw dropping. The second you stepped out of the cab outside Club Pentagon, all eyes were on you.

You stepped inside, the music and bass thumping your whole body. Men were throwing themselves at your feet, but you had a mission. A mission to find Nam Gyu, get wasted on free drinks, and head back to his place to hook up.

You weaved through the crowded dance floor to the VIP area, assuming he’d be in his usual booth.

“You can’t come back here.” The bouncer outside the section says, placing an unnecessary hand on your chest. You stared up at the tall guard, his height towering yours.

“I’m here to see Nam Gyu, I’m his friend.”

“Are you on the list?”

“I don’t think so, he didn’t know I was coming. Just go tell him it’s Y/N.”

The bouncer turns, eyeing Nam Gyu’s usual booth that was covered by a curtain.

“He’s busy.”

“Bullshit, you didn’t even check.” You say, but he ignores you. “Please just let me in, he’s literally my best friend.”

“Then why haven’t I ever seen you before?”

“I don’t come out often. Just come on please?”

He eyes you, saying nothing.

“Pretty please?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

He was just about to fold, when a man walks up beside you.

“How’s it goin’, brother?” The bouncer greets him much more politely than he did you.

“Not too bad. Should be under Thanos.” The man says. The bouncer checks the list before nodding and lifting the red rope. Just before the man crosses, he glances at you. His gaze lingers, squinting as he attempts to put a name to your face.

“Hold up, I know you.” He says, pointing. “Uhh… fuck… I think it’s… Y/N, right? Nam Gyu’s little side piece.”

“We’re just friends, actually.” You respond, a slight hint of venom on your tongue.

He smirks. “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, ready to give up and turn to go to the dance floor, before he stops you.

“Wait, aren’t you coming back here?” He asks.

“Nam Gyu didn’t put me on the list.” You say. He laughs, assuming a deeper meaning than what there actually was. It felt pathetic, appearing as if you were just a little forgotten floozy chasing after Nam Gyu.

“Come on, señorita.” He says, holding his hand out to you. You don’t wanna accept, given his cocky nature, but you also don’t wanna be on the cramped dance floor alone.

You take his hand, and he gives the bouncer a slight nod before pulling you towards Nam Gyu’s booth. He pulls open the curtain, revealing Nam Gyu with his jeans slightly lowered, legs spread, getting what appeared to be one hell of a blowjob.

“Whoa! Get the fuck-Oh, shit! Y/N, my girl, what the hell are you doing here?” He asks, way too happy to see you, given you interrupting him. The girl pulls off him, covering her face in shame. He pulls up his jeans and fixes his belt as the girl runs off.

He leans over the table to hug you. “Ew. Don’t touch me.” You say, holding up your hands and leaning away in disgust.

Thanos laughs, reaching his hand out to dap up Nam Gyu. “How you been, brother?”

“Can’t complain.” Nam Gyu says, giving him a ‘bro hug’ and leaning back into the leather couch. The table in front of him is a wreck, filled with empty glasses and lines of coke just waiting to be snorted.

“Help yourselves.” He says, noticing you staring at the table.

“I think I’m okay.” You say, disdain in your voice.

“Such a priss.” Thanos mumbles, loud enough for you to hear, his voice laced with a challenge.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” You spit at him.

“No.” He says, shaking his head with a grin.

“I didn’t think so.”

He smiles even wider. You roll your eyes, taking the rolled up dollar bill from his hand.

“Whoa, Y/N. Don’t think you need to prove anything to this guy.” Nam Gyu teases.

“Trust me,” You snort a line, then look at Thanos and say, “I know.”

His smile falters, just slightly, knowing you’d won the battle.

But, would you win the war?

As the night begins Nam Gyu orders rounds and rounds of shots for you all, back to back, non stop. You grew more drunk with each shot, and your body fought you to force them out everytime you forced one down.

Thanos inched closer to you as the night progressed, until eventually his thigh was touching yours.

His rough jeans scratched your bare leg, but you were so far gone you hadn’t paid it any mind.

“So, Y/N,” Thanos drags your name on his tongue. “What does someone like you do for a living?”

“Someone like me?” You ask, sipping on your drink.

“Yeah, someone so… uptight.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and setting your drink down. “You’re so insufferable. How does anyone stand to be around you?”

“Usually they’re sitting.” He jokes, nudging your knee with his.

“Hm. Well maybe I should stand then.”

“You never answered the question.”

“Huh?” You ask, already having forgotten it in your drunken state.

“What do you do for a living?” He asks, irritated this time.

“I’m an assistant attorney.” You say.

“Well, maybe you can help me with a crypto problem of mine then.”

“You’re on your own there.” You say. “What do you do for work? That is, if you even work.”

“So mean.” He teases. “I’m a rapper.”

You laugh, so hard that your stomach hurts. You’re leaning over, gripping his arm for support as you try to pull yourself together as best you can. “Oh, my god. It makes so much sense.”

He’s not smiling. In fact, he’s irritated at how unserious you’re taking him.

“Sing to me.” You slur.

“I said rap, not sing. Learn the difference. Since you’re so smart, with your fancy lawyer degree.”

“Aw, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist.” You laugh at him.

“Don’t make me take yours off.” He attempts to tests the waters, but he’s so drunk he just dove straight in. His breath catches as he waits for your response, he knows for sure he scared you off now.

“I’m not wearing any.” You respond, smirking. He smirks back at you, amused by your warm and flushed cheeks. He glances past you at Nam Gyu, dead asleep on the other couch.

“Rap to me.” You pull his attention back to you.

He pulls something out of the air, free styling to the beat of the music that radiates through the club. The words go in one ear and out the other, but you’re still pretending to listen.

You nod and laugh, so drunk. He laughs back, reeling you in with that sweet smile and those pearly white teeth.

He rests his hand on your knee, drawing little circles. He’s waiting, testing, challenging you.

Your hand grabs his, moving it slowly up your thigh, all the while staring into each other’s souls.

Thanos fingers graze your inner thighs, feeling the heat of your cunt through your panties.

“Liar.” He says, his face inching closer to yours.

“Where’d I lie?” You smirk, your fingers grazing up his chest and to his neck.

“You said you weren’t wearing any panties.”

You’re both so close, yet so far.

“Guess I’m just full of surprises, huh?”

“Yes, you are.”

You break, closing the distance between you both as you grab his collar to yank his lips into yours. Your teeth clash together, the kiss rough and drunk and desperate. So desperate, so full of need.

His tongue sneaks pasts your lips, desperate to taste every part of your mouth. You taste so good; your lips the flavor of fruit and vodka.

One hand wraps around your throat, holding you for balance, the other moves your panties to the side to rub your wetness with his fingers.

You break the kiss, moaning.

“Shh. You don’t wanna wake him up now, do you?” He says, looking over at Nam Gyu, who was out like a light.

“Fuck, I-I don’t care. I want you.” You moan. The music was so loud anyway. You should be fine, right?

He slips a finger in you, drawing gasps and moans from your lips. You roll your hips into his fingers, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into you. You moan right in his ear, fueling him to fuck you with his fingers even harder.

He kisses you again, rough and sloppy. You’re too coked out to notice the way your lips are starting to bruise. Your nails dig into his arm, and your moans are trapped in his mouth as you inch closer to your release.

He pulls away, growing even more hard as he hears your whiny moans.

“Beg for me.” He tells you.

“You annoying fuck.” You moan, and he curls his fingers in you. “Fuck, fuck, okay. Please, please, Thanos. I need you to fuck me.”

He urges your finish and you’re a whimpering mess onto his shoulder, a string of curses and his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

He pushes down his jeans, taking off your pink panties and stuffing them in his pocket to keep as a reminder of you. If you had been sober you would’ve fought for them because they were your favorite pair, but unfortunately you were too desperate to be fucked to pay it any mind.

He thrust himself into you, not even wrapping himself first. Your nails dig into his back, moaning in ecstasy. His whispers in your ear are breathless and dirty, an attempt to make you a mess beneath him,

which was succeeding.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and you begged for that man in the most heartbreaking way. He was grinning ear to ear above you.

You, such an uptight little priss, falling apart beneath him.

“Who’s your daddy?” He teases.

“Ew, shut the fuck up.” You say in disgust, but the whine in your voice betrays you. He sucks on your neck, leaving bruised and purple hickeys on every inch. You were gonna be so screwed at work.

“You know you like it.” He groans in your neck. “Little prissy princess.”

You scoffed in response, still moaning. You hated to admit it, but you did kinda like it.

“Say you like it.” He slows his thrusts.

“No.” You moan. He slams into you, hitting your cervix. “Oh, god, I l-love it.”

He smirks, “You love ittt…?”

“Ugh,” you groan. “I love it, daddy.”

“There’s a good gjrl.” He picks his pace back up, fucking you relentlessly. You fingers trail under his shirt, clawing his chest.

“I’m so close.” You whine.

“Come on, then. Give it to me.” He growls. You come undone, screaming in ecstasy, barely even audible over the music.

But he hears it, and it pushes him over the edge. He spills into you, whining just like how you were.

He pulls out, sitting upright and fixing his jeans. The clarity hit him like a train, and he knew he was cooked. He needed to see you again, and you hadn’t even left yet.

He looked over at you, hand on your forehead as you caught your breath, legs spread and pussy on full display to him still.

He glanced over at Nam Gyu, who was laying down staring right back at Thanos. Thanos’ breath hitched slightly, but Nam Gyu just held a finger to his lips and closed his eyes, pretending he hadn’t even stirred in his sleep.

By the time Thanos looked back at you, you had fallen asleep too. He pushed your legs down so your body was straight, then he fixed your dress by tugging it down so far no one could even get an idea. He took off his jacket(his favorite one!) and draped it over your legs.

He got up and left, knowing you were safe with Nam Gyu there…

knowing he had to see you again.

[theemporium]

in exchange for you not paying for my therapy bills after your last luke and cherry chapter i would like to request a luke blurb

the morning after your first time spending the night at luke and jacks apartment. you’re not quite sure what to do so anything you do for luke you do for jack so he’s not left out. jack is like “i like this one can you keep her” while luke is like “babe your my gf jacks a big boy he can do it himself”

thank you for requesting and sorry (not sorry) for the therapy bills!🫶🏽

.

Despite dating for almost nine months, this had been the first time you had ever stayed overnight at Luke’s apartment.

You had been in his apartment many times throughout the duration of your relationship, but you always left for your own place at the end of the night. Or Luke would leave with you, letting his brother have some privacy since you didn’t have a roommate. It always made sense, and seemed easier too.

But the boys had just come back from a long roadie and it had been almost two weeks since you saw Luke in person because of your own busy schedule. And as excited as Luke was to see you, he didn’t have the energy in him to handle another travel journey, as short as it was.

“Just stay the night,” Luke had all but mumbled as he laid on top of you on his bed, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “We can go to your place tomorrow.” 

And you didn’t have any reason to disagree with that agreement.

You just didn’t realise how out of your own element you were until you woke up the next morning. Luke was still fast asleep in his room and, considering how quiet the apartment was, you assumed Jack was too. It was stupid to feel so imposing but you couldn’t shake how weird it felt to be wandering around their place in the early hours of the day with neither awake yet.

You had decided to just follow the routine you usually followed at your place when Luke stayed over, scavenging whatever you could from their fridge and cupboards to make a decent breakfast with. Which, for two NHL players who should be eating more than the average person, was surprisingly not much, unless you wanted chicken and rice for breakfast (which no one in their right mind would want). 

You were lost in your own world, focused on the sizzling pan in front of you and the music playing from your phone on the counter beside you that you didn’t hear footsteps coming down the corridor.

“We own a spatula?” 

You turned, snorting when you found Jack glaring at the utensil in your hand like it had spawned out of nowhere. “I made Luke buy it when he tried to flip an egg with a fork.”

“Huh,” was all Jack managed to say. “He still asleep?” 

“Out like a light,” you nodded. 

“He’s gonna miss his breakfast,” Jack teased, rounding the counter so he could peek over your shoulder. 

“More French toast for us then,” you shrugged.

Jack paused, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “You made me breakfast too?” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Yeah?” 

“Oh.” 

“I mean, if you have plans for breakfast, it’s fine,” you assured him, waving him off. 

“No, I—” Jack paused before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, you’re Luke’s girlfriend.” 

Your confusion grew. “Yeah, and? You’re Luke’s brother. What’s that got to do with anything?” 

“You didn’t need to make me breakfast,” Jack said in a tone of voice that made it seem like his reply made any more sense than the previous ones. “But you did.” 

“What, you thought I would just make me and Luke breakfast and leave you to starve?” You questioned, the confusion slowly being replaced with amusement. “That would have been a dick move.”

Jack shrugged. “I would have understood.”

“Luke’s my boyfriend and you’re his brother but you’re also my friend, Jack,” you said to the boy with a soft smile. “Making extra breakfast is not the hardship you think it is.”

Jack laughed, nodding. “You’re my friend too.” 

Your smile widened.

“God, that smells so good,” Luke groaned as he shuffled into the room, messy curls tucked underneath the hood of his hoodie. He paused, glancing between the two of you with narrowed eyes. “Why do you both have that creepy smile? What are you planning?” 

“Confidential things,” Jack retorted, throwing his arm around your shoulder as he beamed at his younger brother. “Maybe when you’re old enough, we will tell you.” 

You snorted.

Luke frowned. “Ugh, can’t you go annoy Nico to feed you.” 

“Nuh uh, I was given an invite to join you both for breakfast here,” Jack said, still grinning widely. “You’re right, bro, it does smell so good.”

Luke let out a huff. “She is my girlfriend, go away and make your own breakfast.” 

“And she is my future sister-in-law,” Jack retorted, cackling at the way both you and Luke flushed at his words. “We are family now! Get used to it, Rusty!”

.

[runninriot]

Another Love

written for the @corrodedcoffinfest pop-up event It's Complicated

wc: 1.966 | rated: M | tags: past friends with benefits Eddie/Jeff, newly established Steddie, unrequited love, complicated feelings, mild hurt/comfort, friendship | also on ao3

   “Guys, this is Steve. Steve, these are the guys. My best friends, who will not embarrass me today. Right?”

Eddie laughs, tries not to let his nerves show by making a silly grimace in the direction of Gareth, who lovingly scoffs and rolls his eyes, says ‘You don’t need us for that, you’re pretty good at embarrassing yourself‘, just to be a little shit. And maybe that’s good, because it means they’re not pretending to be something they’re not. There’s no need to mask who they are in front of Steve, Eddie knows that.

He knows that, once they’ve warmed up to each other, they’ll get along just fine. But still, he can’t shake the funny feeling in his gut.

This is a big deal for him, finally introducing his boyfriend to the people who, apart from Wayne, mean most to him in this world. He wants, no, needs them to accept this new person in his life, because there is one thing he’s absolutely certain of – Steve is here to stay.

Gareth and Doug, being the lifesavers they are, immediately start wrapping Steve up in a conversation and it helps ease Eddie’s nerves a bit. But out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the tension in Jeff’s shoulders. Can sense his resentment of the situation even if Jeff is obviously trying his best not to show it.

He stands off to the side, pretending to tune his guitar which he’s definitely not. Eddie knows he’s already done that before even coming to the venue. Out of all of them, Jeff’s always been the closest to a professional.

It’s something Eddie admires, one of those things he loves about him.

Jeff and Eddie go way back, met long before Gareth and Doug entered the picture. They’ve been friends forever, through thick and thin, always together against the rest of the world.

He’d never admit it out loud but Jeff’s opinion matters most. And that’s not only because he’s his best best friend. It’s also because he doesn’t know what he’d do if Jeff didn’t give him his blessing. There’s so much at stake here, so much to possibly end in ruins. This is so much more complicated than just wanting his friend's approval - there's more to consider. More to fight for. So that's what Eddie is willing to do.

   “Hey, man,” Eddie claps Jeff on the back trying to act casual, ignoring the twisted knots in his stomach. “Can we talk?”

   “If it’s about your boyfriend, then no.”

Jeff takes a big swig from his beer, the look in his eyes unusually cold and distant.

   “Come on, man. I thought we agreed that-”

   “Well, I’ve changed my mind. Look, Eddie. I’m happy for you, I really am. But you cannot expect me to put on a brave face and pretend that this doesn’t fuck me up.”

His words slice through Eddie like a knife, sharp and quick, no mercy on his heart.

Eddie probably deserves it for thinking he could ignore the giant ass elephant in the room and simply wait it out. Wait for the problem to solve itself, for everything to go back to normal, back to easy. Because truth is, there is nothing easy about this.

Eddie knew from the start that this would be complicated, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t. He knew and yet, stupid as he is, he still hoped they could just... move on. Not forget but maybe lock up the memories of a different time and go back to how things were before. When they were just friends, no feelings involved. At least not those kind of feelings.

   “I’m sorry, Jeff,” he says, head tilted down to avoid his friend’s piercing gaze, “I know it’s-“

It’s what? Hard? Unfair? Well, yeah, obviously. At least from Jeff’s point of view. But what is Eddie supposed to do? He didn’t choose to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have feelings for Jeff, only they’re different now. Not that he ever-

It’s a cruel thought, even though it’s true. They both know it because Eddie never pretended to be in love when he wasn’t. Was he attracted to Jeff? Oh, absolutely. Otherwise they wouldn’t have ended up in bed together. More than once. And it wasn't just the prospect of easy sex that had Eddie coming back for more - it was the thought of falling asleep in Jeff's arms. To be held by someone who makes you feel safe and cared for. He loved the kisses and giggles and how okay it was to be vulnerable and open because there's nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide because Jeff already knows everything about him.

The problem is, while it had all started out as casual fun between mates, something changed over time. Something Eddie noticed too late or he would’ve ended it sooner. Jeff never told him about his feelings, so that’s on him, but it is just as much Eddie’s fault because- he should’ve known anyway. Should’ve noticed the shift. But he hadn’t. Or maybe he simply refused to acknowledge it. Selfishly ignored it until he couldn’t anymore.

When he met Steve, he instantly knew he needed to put his cards on the table and come clean about what this would mean for him and Jeff. Told him about this guy he likes – ‘Don’t know if it’s mutual but I’d like to give it a shot, see where it’s going. Maybe it’s nothing but maybe- I think he could be the one.’

And at first, Jeff seemed to be fine with that. Said he understood that they couldn’t hook up anymore. Said he’d miss the fucking but ‘Eh, whatever.’

Only it wasn’t whatever.

But Eddie was so lost in his own head, so caught up on Steve, Steve, Steve that he didn’t see what it was doing to Jeff. Didn’t notice him pulling away more and more until Gareth mentioned it. Asked if something had happened between the two because they were acting weird.

So, when he finally confronted Jeff, things seemed... okay. Better. At least that’s what he thought when Jeff told him he’d get over it, that he just needed some time to adjust. Promised Eddie that nothing had changed when it came to their friendship but right now, Eddie isn’t so sure about that anymore.

And it kills him.

Makes him lie awake at night because he can’t stop thinking about all the worst possible outcomes. What if this breaks up the band? What if Eddie loses his best friend?

   “I don’t want to lose you, Jeff.”

    You’re up in five, someone calls from the side of the stage and Eddie knows this is the worst possible timing for a heart-to-heart. They should be getting ready, he should be talking to his boyfriend who he abandoned and left with people he doesn’t really know, in a place he’s never been to before. But he can’t step away, can’t leave it like that, not when Jeff still hasn’t said anything.

   “I need you. You’re my best friend and I- I love you.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, to use this word, this feeling that is the cause for this mess and the reason for Jeff’s pain. But it’s the right word nonetheless, because it’s the truth. Eddie loves him. Maybe not like he loves Steve but different from the way he loves Gareth and Doug. This love goes deeper than friendship, soul-deep.

   “I love you. You’re important to me and I know- I know you're hurt and I am sorry but I can’t change that my heart belongs to Steve.”

Eddie can’t stop, knows he should because right now, he’s only talking himself deeper into the hole he dug for himself. But he refuses to lie, refuses to try to appease Jeff with false hope – he needs to know where they stand. And if that means Jeff will tell him to fuck off, if that will be the end of their friendship, then-

   “I hate you.”

Eddie’s heart stops at Jeff's words, eyes filling with tears as he braces himself for the biggest regret he'll ever have in his life.

   “I hate you so much for even thinking you could ever lose me!”

They’ve got eyes on them now, Eddie can feel it, but he doesn’t care. Can’t, not when Jeff moves closer, taking one of Eddie’s hands to place it on his chest, right above his heart.

   “It hurts. It fucking hurts. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friends anymore.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say, just sniffs and blinks away the tears blurring his vision.

   “It’ll take some time for me to... get over this. But you and me, we’re bound for life, man. So don’t you ever think you’re getting rid of me. You hear me, asshole?”

Jeff smiles at him and even though there’s still sadness in his eyes, Eddie can feel that he means it.

   “Uh... sorry to interrupt but, um, they said you’re up next so I-“

When Eddie turns to the voice coming from behind, he finds Steve standing there, hands in his pocket, nervously looking to the side.

   “I’ll be down there somewhere. Have- have fun.”

Steve’s about to turn around, ready to step away but Eddie can't let him go like that, so he stops him.

   “Baby, wait!”

He looks back at Jeff, hoping, praying to find what he’s searching for in the other man’s eyes.

   “Go on, your boyfriend looks like he’s waiting for a kiss. Would be rude to leave him hanging.”

   “Are you gonna be mad at me if I do?” Eddie’s not asking for permission to kiss his boyfriend, not really. But he’s willing to tone it down around Jeff if that’s what it takes.

Jeff scoffs, lets go of Eddie’s hand and takes a step back.

   “So mad. But I’ll get to have you all to myself for the next 40 minutes so I guess it’s fine,” he jokes and it feels like a peace offering. Like maybe it’s the first step to better, before hopefully they can go back to how things were when everything was good, not complicated.

   “I love you,” Eddie says again just because.

   “Love you too, man. Now go take care of your man and then let’s get this fucking show started.”

Eddie nods, taking another moment to look at his best friend before walking over to Steve.

   “Everything good with you and Jeff?” Steve asks quietly as Eddie wraps his arms around his middle to pull him close.

   “I think it will be, yeah.”

Eddie's glad he never made a secret out of his past with Jeff, couldn’t bear withholding something so crucial from Steve. He needed him to know that no matter what, Jeff will always play an important role in his life. That if Steve wanted to be with him, he’d have to accept that there will always be a place in his heart that’s occupied by someone else.

Steve throws a look over Eddie’s shoulder and smiles to himself before leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

   “Is that all?” Eddie asks when his boyfriend pulls away, leaving him longing for more.

   “For now,” Steve confirms with a wink, “Your friends are waiting.”

With that, he wanders off into the crowd and Eddie, for the first time in weeks, feels a weight lift off his shoulders and heart.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be complicated.

Maybe it just needs time and trust and mutual understanding.

He’s willing to try, willing to do everything to make this work

Because what he’s definitely not willing to do, is to give up one love for another.

[joonjuul]

Hi errmm so I wanna ask if you can make some nerd or shy jimin x yan!reader/bully!reader, I really hope you can consider my request, I would appreciate it if you can make one, cuz some author have been ignoring my request, and thank you so much

test me. pjm

pairing: nerd!jimin x bully!reader

wc: 4.8k

warnings: nerdy!jimin, loser!jimin, subby!jimin, jimin might be a switch, virgin!jimin, experienced!reader, bully!reader, academic rivals, oc is a bitchhh, crazy sexual tension, pwp, public sex, voyeurism, unprotected sex (wrap it up), oral (male receiving), light fingering (f receiving), orgasm denial (jimin receiving hehehehe), some crack

a/n: this took me a while but tysm for the req !!! im weak for subby jimin tbh

╋━

you were curious. you always had been growing up. you saw something that interested you and you immediately had to know more, and he was no different.

he was quiet and timid, could’ve easily been described as your polar opposite. but what was worse was how he constantly had to one-up you in everything he did. i mean sure, you were smart, gunning for valedictorian at what was considered to be a top university in your state, but he was somehow always one step ahead of you.

“whoops!” you say sarcastically as you bump into him in the hallway, knocking his books out of his hands as you watch him struggle to gain his composure, quickly falling to his knees to pick up his belongings.

but what bugged you even more, was that he never gave into your rude comments, the way you pushed him around, laughed at him, teased him in any way you could. he never gave you a reaction, and it drove you absolutely mad.

“didn’t see you there squirt. better pick those books up and get to studying, wouldn’t want me to get a better grade than you on professor jeon’s exam tomorrow.” but he doesn’t even glance in your direction. just shyly retreats down the hall, his hair bouncing in the wind of his quick strides.

you’ve known jimin since high school. you thought you’d escaped him after graduation, but you somehow ended up at the same university as well. it was almost as if he enjoyed your persistent teasing, you had been on him about it for years. since the day he got a 98 on your freshman math midterm and you only got a 92. ever since then, you just continued to get meaner, and meaner, hoping that eventually he’d snap and give up, allow you to take first place, or even better, transfer schools, but he never did.

you walk to the library calmly, carefully picking a quiet corner where you can peacefully get some studying in. this was going to be the one, you thought to yourself as you situated yourself, sprawling your papers and textbooks out on the table. this was going to be the one where i finally win.

and like that, you were off.

your eyes scanned every word in front of you, your hand vigorously jotting down notes and annotations as you soaked up every piece of information like a sponge. everything was falling into place, and even better, professor jeon taught history, and that was your best subject, and just so happened to be jimin’s worst. victory was clear as day.

almost an hour had passed before you realized your mortal enemy was sat only a few tables down from you, the library filled with your intense breathing as you came to the realization that not only had he came into the space undetected by you, but that he was studying for the same reason you were.

your focus is now completely lost, he was in enemy territory, he knew better than to use the library on the north end of campus. it was right next to your dorm and he knew that.

you slam your text book shut, collecting all your belongings in your hands as you stride confidently to his table, loudly dropping everything in front of him before taking a seat.

he looks up quickly, his eyes wide as he watches you sit down before him.

“what’s up study buddy.”

he quickly looks back down, doing his best to keep his composure but you quickly notice his knee bouncing beneath the table.

“nervous for the test tomorrow?” you put on a fake voice, doing your best to sound as nice as possible, which was something you weren’t used to doing. but the bait worked, and you watch as he carefully picks his head back up, his eyes landing on yours, his brows furrowed as if he’s confused why you’re being friendly.

he shrugs, “a little. i’ve never been the best at history.” his voice is quiet, but his body language speaks volumes, he was completely and totally intimidated by you.

“i’m pretty good at history, maybe i could tutor you.” your inflection comes off more teasing than you intended it to, but even so, jimin doesn’t seem to notice, as he carefully processes your proposal.

“what do you want?” he speaks more clearly this time.

“what do you mean?”

“well… you’re being nice to me. and you’re not nice.”

you roll your eyes at his question, “what i can’t be nice to you?”

jimin’s stare increases, not replying as if his lack of response says enough already.

“fine you’re right. i can’t be nice to you. you drive me insane and im gonna need you to stop studying to i can outperform you for once.” you snap, watching as his eyes widen at your words and foul tone.

“if you want out perform me, you’re just gonna have to be better than me.”

your scowl deepens, hatred blossoming within your stomach as you watch him flip a page in his textbook teasingly.

“i am better than you.” you grit through your teeth.

“the grades say otherwise.” his gaze falls to his book again as he continues to flip another page, but you’ve just about had it with his brattiness. you quickly stand up from your seat and lean across the table, closing his book harshly, nearly missing his finger as you watch his eyes snap up to yours in surprise. sure you were a bitch to him, but you’ve never been so close to actually physically hurting him.

“listen you little shit, i’m tired of you thinking you’re better than me. you’re nothing. you might have a slight edge on me academically, but who’s more popular ? who gets invited to the parties ? who balances their social life with being second in the class ? i’d rather be second and have something to live for besides extra credit.” you lean closer to him as you speak, watching as he cowers back in his chair, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips, noting how his hand trembles nervously with every inch closer you get to him.

you chuckle noticing how easily he reacts to you. “i bet this is the closest you’ve ever been to a woman.” your breath is hot against his face as you smile, knowing you’ve finally let out every horrible thing you’ve been keeping in all these years.

you watch as his eyes widen even further, a slight sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead as he begins to stutter.

“t-that’s n-not true.”

“sure. then why are you so nervous?” you reach up and brush a hair from his face, watching as he leans back into his chair further, almost afraid of your touch. but he’s unable to garner a response, only open his mouth slightly but no words are able to escape.

you smile with victory, finally feeling like your beating him at something as you return to your original position and begin packing up your things, only glancing up at him occasionally to see his shocked state.

with one arm full, you begin to walk past him with powerful struts, until you feel a hand grip your free wrist tightly.

with a quick turn of your head, your eyes land on him, his head down as he holds your wrist tightly, obviously avoiding your eye contact at all costs.

“i need you to teach me.” you hear him barely whisper.

“what? what could i possibly teach you since you’re so much smarter than me?” you respond sarcastically.

he continues to look down as you hear him breathe heavily for a moment, fighting the urge to say the things he wants to say.

“teach me how to be good with women.”

you stand frozen in place, your body overwhelmed with shock and disbelief as you try to process what he’s saying.

“what exactly are you asking me to do?” you already knew the answer, but you still couldn’t believe a boy like him would have the confidence to ask a girl like you this.

he lets out a deep sigh, but eventually lifts his head so his eyes meet yours, and they’re filled with so much desperation you feel your stomach turn, but not in a bad way, in a strange way you’ve never felt before. he almost looked, pretty like this.

“please.” his words comes out in a beg, his eyes filled with innocence and you think you might explode at the sight. but what in god’s name were you thinking ? he was a nobody, you wouldn’t be caught dead hooking up with someone so low on the social totem pole they have less cred than someone in chess club.

but you’re unable to stop yourself as you use the wrist he’s holding to pull him out of his chair, wrapping your hand around his tightly before you’re pulling him to a secluded bookshelf in the library.

“are you out of your mind?” you speak a bit louder now that you feel a sense of privacy in such a quiet and public area of your big campus. “what makes you think i would ever do anything with you?” you say with disgust.

he tips his head down, looking at the floor again, which is strange now that you’re standing because he’s always been quite a bit taller than you.

“im sorry, it was a bad idea i should’ve never mentioned it.”

“yeah you really shouldn’t have.” your voice is growing angrier now. “god i can’t believe you actually think you’d have a chance with me.”

he looks back up at you, his eyes less submissive and more annoyed at your growing insults.

“am i really that repulsive to you?”

“uhh yeah, pretty much.”

“then why keep talking to me? all the teasing? sitting at my table while im studying? after all these years why not just leave me alone?”

your face freezes for a moment as you recall every mean thing you’ve done to him since high school. he always took it, this was the first time he’d ever talked back. as much as you always wanted a reaction from him, and you thought you were curious about him, what if that was stemming from a place other than academic jealousy?

you shake the thoughts from your brain as you return to your argument.

“you’re easy to tease, i guess i got used to it over the years.”

“so you’re telling me you don’t feel a single hint of attraction towards me? that this all comes from a place of hatred?”

you freeze at his words. were you sure that you didn’t have any attraction towards him? since high school you dated the captain of the football team, the captain of the debate team, and the student body president, why would you ever be interested in a guy like jimin? maybe curiosity got the best of you over the years. every time you watched him pass you in the hallway and felt the urge to push him into a locker, was it because you hated him? or because you wanted an excuse to touch him?

“god shut up!” you yell loudly, with a certain amount of volume you really shouldn’t use in a library. jimin’s eyes widen at your outburst, and before you’re able to react, he lunges forward and places a hand over your mouth. your eyes meet, darting between one another as you feel the tension bloom in your stomach once again. the feeling of his skin over your face, over your lips, almost sending you into a frenzy. he had never been this close to you before.

jimin watches your reaction, gauging how your eyes get bigger, but you don’t push him away, you don’t spit in his hand or bite his fingers, you stand there, still. moments pass before jimin realizes the outburst is long over, finally pulling away and backing up against the bookcase, wanting to create more space between the two of you.

“i’m sorry.” he ducks his head down again, avoiding how the look on your face changes, how you’re no longer mad, how you’re not talking, maybe not even breathing.

you clench your fists together, taking a deep breath to calm yourself as you question whether or not this is a good idea, whether or not this will change everything for you.

fuck it.

you take a step forward, bringing your hands to his face as you pull him in. your lips meeting each other’s with ease as you feel him melt into you quickly, your mouths moving with synchronicity, but a hunger that you’ve never felt before.

you ignore his gentle whines as you push him further into the bookcase, the bindings scratching his back lightly as he fights the urge to moan out in pain. but you couldn’t care less. if this was going to happen, it was going to happen on your terms, which meant before you’re able to really think about your decision and change your mind.

your kiss turns feverish as you bring your hands down to his pants, fumbling with the button as you begin to undo them.

jimin pulls away quickly, looking at you nervously before glancing down the bookshelf aisles, waiting for an unsuspecting student to turn the corner and see you both.

“do you want to learn or not, brat? this is your only chance.” his eyes dance between yours, head spinning as he feels a wave of nervousness overwhelm him.

“what if someone sees?” his voice now a hushed whisper.

“you better be quiet then.” you push his pants down just enough to release his hard on, his underwear the only thing keeping it contained. you look down and see the imprint of his cock, your mouth watering at the sight as you realize his size. maybe you should start sleeping with nerds more often.

you place a hand on his cock, stroking it gently through his underwear as you look up just in time to see him throw his head back against the bookshelf, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he stifles a moan.

“you respond so easily. you’ve definitely never been touched before, huh?”

he bites his lip, shaking his head aggressively as his hips subconsciously rut into your hand, already overwhelmed at the sensation of your touch, and you were loving every second of it.

you never thought you’d be interested in a submissive man until now. the sight of him already losing control and you’d barely even started was like nothing you’d ever seen before, and you were sure your panties were already soaked.

you continue stroking him slowly, but bring your hand down to his as you lead it up your skirt and to the hem of your undies, helping him move them to the side carefully before guiding his fingers to your drenched cunt.

his eyes go huge as he feels how wet you are, his fingers exploring your folds and clit before working their way down to your throbbing entrance.

you lean closer to him, the heat of his body radiating onto yours as you lean into his ear, speaking at barely a whisper.

“you still want me to teach you?”

he nods slowly, his fingers moving gently as if he’s afraid to hurt you.

“you’re doing good so far. just pretend you’re rubbing someone’s temple. use two fingers, and find the little nub, that’s the sweet spot.” he listens intently, following your directions as you speak, his fingers finally landing on your clit as he begins to rub torturously slow.

your knees buckle slightly but you keep your composure. you were normally a whiny mess with men, but something inside you gave you the strength to continue guiding him.

“that’s it, good boy. now just a little faster, and a little harder.” you feel his dick twitch at your praise and he listens soon after, his touch now starting a coil in your stomach as you feel it flutter with excitement. he was a very quick learner.

you stifle back a moan as you feel him speed up slightly, your body now leaning against his fully as you continue to stroke him through his underwear, the confinement now driving you insane. you just wanted to feel him.

you pull away slightly and watch as his hand retreats nervously.

“it’s okay, you did good. now lesson two.” you turn around, pulling the hem of your skirt up as you grab the bookcase in front of you, bending over slightly, your panties still pulled to the side giving him a full view of your dripping cunt.

“fuck me.”

“what?” his voice is shaky as he speaks, his palms sweaty and fingers still wet with your slick as his eyes dart between your pussy and your slightly turned head.

“it’s not hard, just line it up, make sure it’s the right hole, and go crazy. you’re a smart boy, you can figure it out.” jimin gulps as he takes a step forward, his hands wrapping around the waistband of his boxers as he pulls them down, his cock springing free as he brings the head of it to your cunt. he can tell it’s the right one because of how disgustingly wet you were. he wondered if all girls got this soaked, but quickly shook the thoughts from his head as he glanced around the aisle one more time.

the library was almost empty when you had arrived anyway, and now that it was at least an hour later, he was almost sure most of them would be gone, but he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched at the thought of someone seeing the two of you.

“are you gonna do it or should i?” you say impatiently, bringing a hand behind you to reach for his cock, but he quickly pulls it away.

“i got it, i got it.”

he lines up with your cunt one more time before taking a deep breath in, trying to ignore the nervousness he felt, but it’s not strong enough to keep him away from you.

he slowly pushes the tip of his cock into your wet hole, the feeling of your walls tightening around him making him almost moan loudly, but he’s able to suppress it just in time.

you quickly notice his struggle and push your hips back against his cock, only allowing him to enter you more as he grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your sides almost painfully.

“that’s it, good job, keep going.” you praise as he begins to fill you up. his head beginning to spin as he feels how warm and wet you are, how you constrict around him tighter than he’d ever imagined it to be. it felt like heaven, it was enough for him to fall in love right then and there. quit school and study you instead.

and just like that he bottoms out. his cock filling you up to the brim as his balls land on your clit, his hips stalling as he bites his lip firmly, anything to keep the moans inside of him and not within the air of the library.

but you’re in exactly the same boat. a hand covering your mouth as you realize just how big he really is. you’d never felt so full nor stretched before. the head of his cock so deep inside you that it was practically touching your womb, you wouldn’t be surprised if you pushed on your stomach and his cock went flying out of you, it was almost torture feeling him hold still.

“okay, good.” you say in between breaths, your chest heaving as you try to regain your composure. “you can move now.”

jimin’s silent for a minute, he wants to plow into you, make you start screaming, fuck you until you see stars, but he didn’t know where to start or what to do.

“how do i… how do i move?” his voice trembles and you almost want to just push him on the floor and ride him right then and there.

“just do whatever feels right, jimin.”

he notices the annoyance in your voice and realizes this is probably just as hard for you as it is for him. he needed to man up and start fucking you before you changed your mind.

he pulls his hips back slowly, feeling your walls loosen as they allow him to escape, the sight of his slick stained cock sliding out of you makes him almost dizzy, but he swallows a gulp, before slamming his hips back into yours.

you let out a light squeal, your hand going up to cover your mouth again as he begins to fuck you desperately. his hips moving quickly as you hear him pant and whine behind you.

of course he had to be noisy during sex.

“f-fuck, okay that’s good, just be quiet.” you uncover your mouth quickly to provide feedback before covering it again, the feeling of him inside of you almost too much to bare.

his whines quiet but his breath is loud, the gentle slapping of his pelvis against yours filling the small aisle of bookshelves and you pray that everyone either has headphones on or went home by now. he was never gonna let up by the looks of it.

“what is this feeling? why does it feel like that?” his voice is filled with desperation as his hands grip your hips tighter, his pace never ceasing as he fucks you relentlessly. the sight of his cock drilling into you only fueling him on more.

“feels good, doesn’t it?”

he groans gently in response, the innocent boy now shedding away into something much, much different.

“can’t believe i went my whole life without this, fuck. you feel fantastic.” you moan out at his words, quickly covering your mouth again as you allow him to fuck you deeper, the bookshelf in front of you shaking slightly as you grab it, searching for some sort of stability.

“i thought i was supposed to be the one teaching you?” you choke out, stumbling over your words slightly as his thrusts speed up.

“fuck you’re right. well i did this right didn’t i?” jimin brings an arm forward around your waist and begins circling your clit again, making your legs weaken beneath you. you start shaking harder, moans slipping out from your hand over your mouth as you desperately try to keep your cool.

you nod, unable to muster a response and he smiles, loving how you react. his thrusts are sloppy, his balls slapping his hand against your clit as he tries to focus on you, but he starts to stumble as he feels his stomach tightening.

“shit. i don’t know how much longer i can last.” he stutters, his fingers on your cunt still moving harshly.

you swallow your pride and push his hand away from you, leaning forward as his cock slips out, making him groan loudly. you turn around to face him, shooting him a glare as you grab his shirt, pulling him in towards you.

“i thought you were gonna be quiet.”

jimin grins, his cockiness getting the better of him.

“and i thought you were gonna teach me.”

you quirk a brow at his words, before turning the corner of your mouth up in a smirk as an idea crosses through your mind.

“why don’t you teach me instead. you’re supposed to be the student prodigy, remember?” you say as you fall to your knees in front of him, grabbing his cock as you begin to stroke it gently, causing him to groan at your actions.

“teach me, jimin. teach me how to be as smart as you.” your pout turns mocking as you lick a stripe up his cock, tasting the bitterness of both your slick and his precum. his eyes never leave yours as he watches you intently, his mouth slightly agape as he relishes in the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive skin.

“never noticed how easily your bitchiness turns me on.” he brings his hand to the back of your head and aligns your mouth with his cock, watching the way your mouth opens instinctively to let him in, your tongue sticking out just enough for him to admire the mixture of your juices mingling together in your mouth. the sight is nearly enough to make him cum right then and there.

you grin and don’t waste another second, dipping your head down to take him into your mouth as much as you can, your throat hollowing out at his size, lips suctioning his length as you begin to bob your head steadily.

“fuck.” he groans, tossing his head back as he gathers your hair into a make shift ponytail with one hand, the other gripping the bookshelf beside him tightly, turning his knuckles a pale shade of white.

as much as you wanted to cum, and feel him inside of you, you had to be careful in such a public place, and getting him off quickly was the only way to accomplish that.

his grip on your hair tightens as you hollow your cheeks more, saliva dripping down your lips as your eyes begin to water ferociously, his hips now falling on a gentle pace, matching your speed as he fucks your face.

“f-fuck, you don’t need a teacher. seems like you already know what you’re d-doing.” his praise shoots straight to your core as you try not to smile at his unintentional compliment. it was like you were finally winning, even if it wasn’t academically. he was under your control completely, and the thought of him being weak for you only made you want to toy with him more.

“please, keep going.”

you tighten your grip on his shaft, fighting against his hold as you pull back, his cock springing free as you look up to him innocently, slapping his tip against your tongue.

“aww, are you close ?” your voice is sweet, but jimin knows very quickly that you’re only taunting him further. his toes curling as he feels his release being pulled away from him for a second time.

“f-fuck, yes. why did you stop?”

you lick another stripe up his length, stopping at the tip to circle your tongue over it teasingly, the head now red and pulsing with need.

“i just want to hear you say it.”

“are you kidding? say what?”

you quirk a brow up at him, a grin plastered smugly across your face. “that i’m better.”

“no way, i’m not saying that.” his words fuel the fire in you even more as you place your finger on his slit, dragging painfully slow. his face contorts painfully, the edge clearly in sight and your teasing is almost unbearable.

“admit it, jimin.”

he lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair before tightening his grip on the back of your head.

“fine, fine, you’re better. you’re smarter, you’re sexier, god you’re everything, i’ll worship you i swear just please let me cum.”

you smile at his words, bringing his cock back up to your mouth before stopping one last time, looking up at him cheekily.

“and you’ll let me get a better grade than you on the history exam?”

he rolls his eyes in annoyance, hand gripping your hair even tighter before pulling you over his cock, your mouth engulfing him fully, not even caring at the fact that he didn’t respond.

“just suck my cock, please.” his words are breathless as he feels you begin to use your mouth faster now, drool leaking down his shaft as he pumps inside of you, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead as he tosses his head back with pleasure. the feeling of his release finally coming back almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

you bring a hand to his thigh, leaving marks as you grip it tightly for some sort of stability, your nails in his skin only spurring him on further as he makes one final pump, releasing into your mouth completely.

it feels like it would never end, spurts of his hot cum dripping down your throat as you swallow every last drop, loving the sounds of his sweet moans above you.

he’s a crazy mess, his hair flopping over his face and eyes as he looks down at you, your mouth pulling away as you open slightly, showing him that there was none left.

“yeah you definitely don’t need me to teach you how to do that.” he brings a hand down to your cheek and pinches it cutely. the fight of standing back up from your weak knees was brutal as he uses his arms to steady you, your eyes meeting carefully before you clear your throat, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him away playfully.

“you’re letting me beat you with that exam, park jimin.” you turn and walk away, returning to your shared desk as you pick your books back up and prepare to leave for the evening, feeling more exhausted than ever.

“in your dreams, sweetheart.”

[butlervibesonly]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 |PART ONE| Wil Ohmsford

• Summary: While chasing freedom you get hurt and precious elf boy finds you. It turns out to be Wil Ohmsford and he is more than pleased to care about you.

• Pairing: Wil Ohmsford x human! reader

• Warnings: mentions of getting hurt, fluff, typos?

• I AM UNCONDITIONALLY OBSESSED WITH WIL OHMSFORD HAHAHAHAH 😽also this is just his song ngl

The sun shines high above, its warmth barely reaching you through the leaves of trees. Your legs ache with each step, exhaustion making its appearance more than visible. You don’t even know how many days you’ve been walking. Only thing you know is that you left to chase freedom, to escape the walls that felt more like a cage… But this kind of freedom is not what you expected. It’s hunger killing your stomach, sleepless nights on the hard earth, and the repeated ache in your bones.

You hear waterfall nearby, and as much as you’re trying to search for it you loose control over your legs. Your foot catches on a root, or maybe a sharp rock, and suddenly the world flips. The sky flashes above you before pain explodes through your leg as you crash to the ground helplessly. For a moment, you can’t even breathe. The sharp, sending agony drowns out every other thought. As much as you struggle to move, the pain gets worse. You ran away to be free. But now, you can’t run at all. “Damnit!” you hiss in pain, as you sit hopelessly on the ground. If you really didn't want something to happen, it's this.

“Are you okay?” you hear from the road. Looking up you see blonde and… indeed very cute boy. He is sitting on his horse but could be around 6 feet tall, his hair is blonde with dark shadows. Eyes blue, bluish than you ever seen. And his smile is more than charming. “I, uh… No…” is all that you can choke out after staring at him.

“I see.” he smiles softly as he jumps from his horse. “What happened to you?” the stranger says and approaches you. You hesitate to speak as you look at him. There is something so indescribable about him… “I… I was walking down this hill and tripped. Now I can barely move…”

“Ouch… Can I?” he crouches down beside you, gesturing at your leg. You nod shyly and let him do whatever he wants to do. He leans closer to your leg, and that’s when you notice it. His pointy ears. “You’re… an elf?” you ask. The elf boy chuckles and carefully lifts up the fabric of your leggings.

“Half elf,” he replies and carefully touches your leg. You respond with a hiss as the pain travels through your whole body. “Hm, it looks like it’s broken…” the elf replies, looking at you. Only thing you can do its that you look at him back. Stare maybe. “Oh, my name is Wil. Wil Ohmsford.” he gently hands out his hand. You take his hand and nod. “I am Y/n.”

Wil smiles and lets go of your hand. “Y/n, I live not so far away. And… you look like you need some place to stay-“ he glances at your broken leg. “and place to heal at.” You nod. What else can you do? You haven’t slept in days, eaten in days and not even spoken with anyone. “That would be nice…”

Wil nods and wants to scoop you up from the ground, but he asks for permission first. “May I?” he asks, his voice low but soft. You smile and nod. He scoops you gently from the ground easily like you weigh nothing. There must be strong arms under that jacket of his. He helps you sit on his horse and he walks beside you.

You keep looking down at him as he holds the leash and lead his horse towards his place. You then see a sign Shady Vale. “So, Y/n, where do you come from ?” Wil interrupts your thoughts. Should you tell him that you ran away? That you chased for freedom but ended up with broken leg?

“Uh… Thinking of how far I’ve come already - far away.” Wil glances at you with that playful smile again. “Far away? I don’t know a place like that.” he teases. You just chuckle and shake your head. “I tried to… escape. Wanted to have some freedom, you know…” you say honestly. Wil nods in understanding and stops the horse.

You look up and see a hut, a garden around it and trees surrounding it. “That’s my house,” Wil says. “More likely my kingdom.” Wil gently carries you in his arms. The world seems to fade as he carries you, his strong arms cradling your weary body. At some point, the scent of wood and earth shifts. Less wild, more controlled. The air is rich with herbs, dried flowers, and something faintly sweet. Just like Wil.

Familiar warmth surrounds you and you feel softness underneath you. A bed. Not the cold, hard ground you’ve grown used to, but something so comforting, something safe. As hard as you try not to fall asleep right away, you fail.

When you begin to stir, the light is dimmer, golden rays of the sunset slipping through wooden beams above. A blanket is pulled over you, and the steady crackle of a fire fills the space. And you smell herbs coming from the night stand.

“You’re awake.” The voice is calm, smooth — Will. He kneels beside the bed, setting something down on the small wooden table where steaming tea lays. “You were asleep for a while. Looks like you needed it.” he smiles warmly. You inhale sharply, fingers gripping the blanket as your broken leg reminds you its being. He notices.

“Here, drink this.” Wil lifts a small cup, steam curling from its surface. “It will help ease the pain.” You hesitate at first but take it. The scent of herbs and honey makes your heart flutter. When you take a sip, warmth spreads through your chest. The bitterness of the medicine lingers, but the honey dulls it.

Wil waits, watching as you drink. Only when the cup is empty does he move closer, carefully peeling back the blanket to check the splint on your leg. His touch is light, almost practiced. “You seem to be good at this.” you say, watching him work.

“Thanks. I am healer so… that’s maybe the reason.” he smiles warmly at you, before turning back to check on your fracture. “You’ll heal,” he says, adjusting the bindings with gentle precision. “But it will take time.”

You barely manage a nod, your limbs already growing heavy again. The exhaustion is too much, pulling you down despite your best efforts to fight it. As your eyes flutter closed, you feel the blanket being tucked more securely around you again “Rest,” Will murmurs. “You are safe here.” The last thing you see before sleep takes you is the him, watching over you, his expression soft and warm.

When you open your eyes the time passed. It looks like it’s night now. The fire has burned low, its embers casting a soft, flickering glow across the wooden walls. The scent of herbs still lingers in the air, comforting and familiar now.

And then you notice Wil. He sits by the window, his silhouette outlined in silver by the moonlight streaming through window. He is awake. His posture is still, almost too still, as if he got lost in thoughts. His gaze is distant, fixed somewhere beyond the trees outside.

For a moment, you simply watch him. You can’t tear your gaze from him, he looks so magical and precious. Almost as like he belongs to this place in a way you never have anywhere. You shifting in bed catches his attention and you take advantage of that. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” you murmur.

Surprise flickers across his sharp features before smiling at you. “I don’t sleep well outside my own bed,” he says simply, rubbing his tights. It takes a moment for the meaning to settle. You glance down at the soft blankets wrapped around you. His bed.

“You could lay me somewhere else-” you say, guilt stirring in your chest. “You need it more.” he cuts your words. You smile, but the guilt is still there.

His voice is actually so calm. But there’s something in the way he says it that makes your throat tighten. He has helped you so much already—carried you, tended to your wounds, given you warmth and bed to sleep in. And now he’s giving up his own comfort for your sake.

There is painful silence between both of you. Then, before you can talk yourself out of it, you shift slightly to the side, ignoring the dull throb in your leg. You lift the blanket just enough. “ There is enough of space,” you say softly. “You should sleep too.”

Wil doesn’t move at first. In the low light, his expression is unreadable, but you can feel his hesitation. Then, finally, with a quiet sigh, he stands up and smiles. “You are so stubborn,” Wil murmurs, though there is no real frustration in his voice. Just softness and warmth. A smile tugs at your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

Wil removes his shirt, because he sleeps without it and moves carefully, as if uncertain. You can see his toned body and the strong arms that carried you. When he finally lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, a strange sense settles in the air. He keeps a careful distance, lying on his side to face you. But the warmth of his presence is there, steady and real, a quiet reassurance in the dark.

For the first time in more than couple of days, you feel truly safe. Your eyes roam over him and you can’t unsee how beautiful he is even in the darkness. “What is it?” he asks after you have been literally staring at him. Your words catch in your throat as you hesitate to say it. But eventually you do so.

“You are so beautiful, Wil…” The words slip from your lips faster than you could even think about. Wil chuckles and his cheeks flush. “I don’t think the tea I gave you should have hallucinating effects.” he whispers. “And now go to sleep, you deserve rest.”

Wil opens his eyes, blinking few times to adjust to the morning light. The first thing he notices when he wakes is unfamiliar warmth. For a moment, he doesn’t remember; why? Why there is a soft weight of another body against his, why is his arm draped around someone? Why is the steady rise and fall of the breath so close.

Wil glances down and sees you. You’re still asleep, your head resting lightly against his bare chest. At some point in the night you must have shifted closer, and without thinking about it he must have pulled you closer. Now, one of his arms is wrapped around your body, his hand resting at the curve of your waist beneath the blankets.

He should move. Wil knows this. He should shift away before you wake up, before you realize it. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you, listening to the steady rhythm of your soft breathing.

In sleep, you look much different… Softer, peaceful in a way Wil haven’t seen you yet. When he found you, you have been all weary and exhaustion all over your face, barely holding yourself together. Now, here in his hut, in his arms, you simply look… safe and comfortable .

And in this moment something deep in his chest tightens at the thought. It’s unfamiliar feeling, something he never felt before. It’s not just the healer in him recognizing someone needs care. It’s something more. Something so unspoken yet so obvious.

A realization hits him as he watches your sleeping and unconscious state. He wants to protect you. Not just because you are injured and have nowhere to go, not just because you are practically alone. He wants to be the one you can trust in.

His fingers twitch slightly where they rest against your waist. He could move away now, could put space between the both of you before you wake up and eventually see something in his eyes he is not ready to confess.

But then you murmur something in sleep, pressing closer against him. And just like that, any thought of moving from you disappears. Let her sleep, he thinks for himself. Just a little longer. And so, for the first time in longer than he can remember, he stays still. Holds you close to him. He feels the need to be there for you. To care about you.

[cheriladycl01]

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P11

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid

A/N: I feel like i haven't posted in so long because ive been stuck on this one chapter, and where the season isn't on right now i've distanced myself from F1 a little. I know this chapter is short but i fear its what i needed to get myself writing for F1 again.

You sat politely in the media pen, with a bottle of water before being directed next to Lando for a seat.

All of the media came in ready to start asking questions and interviewing you guys for the media panel.

It was the first race back for you where you’d actively talked to the media so it was a little nerve wracking knowing that you’d be asked if you were truly ready to come back or if it would be more beneficial for you to take some more time off and wait.

Having people like Lando was helpful as he was one of the people who checked up on you while you were out of races, he’d never spent prolonged periods of times away from the races when everyone else was racing so he didn’t actually know what it felt like.

But he of course wasn't Charles.

After your last conversation with the Ferrari driver he had become someone you thought about far too often for your own liking. He was constantly in the back of your mind and it was becoming very annoying.

And now that you were here, at a race and going to be back in the first time since your crash you saw him everywhere. And not just as a physical person, he was on the merch in the fan zone, and his face was plastered all over banners and every Ferrari you saw drive through the streets had you holding your breath wondering whether it could be him.

It never was, strangely since arriving on the Tuesday you never saw him. You couldnt really tell what would be better though. A large part of you wanted to see him, yell at him, hug him and be comforted by him. Another part of you just really wanted to ignore him and forget he even existed.

But at the end of the day, yours and Charles relationship in the short time you knew one another had been chaotic to say the least with everything that had gone on in your first season in F1.

Drive to survive could most likely do a whole series just on you this one season and all the scandals that had arose.

"Y/N? It's great to see you here" the interviewer smiles kindly at you, you give a polite nod back raising the mic up to your face.

"And it feels great to finally be back after all this time" you grin, putting on the face people wanted to see.

"Yeah? Do you feel like you've given yourself enough time away to heal. Do you feel confident getting back in the car?" he asks and you nod, head tilted to the side in a thoughtful way.

"I do. I think all drivers will agree that when something sets you back you pretty much everything to get back to where you were at. A lot set me back this year and i feel better than ever and get back to what I know which is the racing" you answer with a small smile.

"It's crazy how quickly the body can recover and mentally how you can come back from something like that" he praises and you nod, not sure if it was a question or not.

"It's obviously different because the stakes are higher, but if you had an accident in your workplace im sure once you've healed you'd go right back to the job in a muscle memory way with a little more caution at the back of your mind" you explain.

He moves on asking questions to the other drivers meaning you were free to zone out and look around calming your mind for the weekend ahead.

After what felt like hours too you, the panel ended and you were dismissed back to the garage. You had a snack before wondering around looking at the car and getting a feel for it. Every weekend you had been here and not driving, just looking at the data had you itching to get back in the car.

Now that you were here you wanted to sit back in the car. You hopped in to the cockpit your hand running round the halo as you slip your feet down. It felt weird being sat in the car in your team gear and not in the racesuit, but just holding the wheel and checking all the buttons were still in the same place as when you'd left, which looking back on after you'd checked you felt silly.

"Feeling ready for the actual test tomorrow?" Alex asks coming over from his side of the garage, having been watching you for the last 5 minutes wondering if too bother you or not.

"Mmmm? Oh yeah i think so, just a lot on my mind" you say looking up at the boy who'd become like an older brother too you.

"You're gonna be just fine. You'll prove them all wrong" Alex grins and you cock your head to the side in confusion.

"I don't even know who i have to prove myself too anymore. I- just wanna drive with no expectation but i cant really do that here can i" you laugh a little bit.

"I mean, you could. Not sure how long you'd have this job for though" he jokes and you nod.

"Mmmm yeah i guess i should try. Maybe we can even gets some points tomorrow. I do feel like i've let you all down"

"You haven't, you've been healing and having a difficult time from ... what Lily's told me" he admits slowly your head shooting out to look at him.

"Sh-she told you?" You ask.

"Yeah, I know that you didn't want her to, don't take this oiut on her but she was worried about you going into this weekend and seeing him after what happened and i just wanted to let you know i am here for you and always will be. Whatever you need, an escape, a hug, a tow. I am more than just your teammate okay?" he explains rubbing your shoulder, tears filling up your waterline as you look up at him, before you head flops againt his arm.

"Thank you Alex" you sniff.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[adrift-in-my-own-thoughts]

Yknow, what hurts me the most about Luka and Hyuna's relationship isn't even the fact that after god knows how many years without seeing her, Luka's first reaction to seeing Hyuna again is to smile. Because he's so in love with her that the literal gun against his head means nothing, just the fact that she's there is enough for him, allows him to feel truly happy, and his first thought is probably something along the lines of I missed you or I'm glad you're here or I want to hold you, to hug you again. Nor is it the fact that again, despite however many years it's surely been since she last saw him, Hyuna's immediate instinct to seeing Luka in potential danger is to throw herself into harm's way instead, sacrificing her own life just to make sure this boy with so many health issues, this puppet of the aliens, can live for a little longer.

No.

What saddens me the most about their relationship is the fact that Hyuna didn't hate him because she disliked Luka, she hated him because it was too dangerous to care about him. The only other person she ever loved that much was her brother Hyun Woo, and she watched him die in front of her eyes when they were all still children. This forced Hyuna to learn and accept that loving someone was too dangerous, risked both parties getting hurt whether with the intentions go hurt both or just as a side effect of one being hurt anyway. And so this other boy she loves, perfect, innocent Luka? What other choice does she have but to push him away to keep them both safe? She says at the end of Wiege that he was her only weakness, and I don't think that Hyuna meant because he was soft or weak himself (although that most likely is also true, judging from all his health conditions and etc), but because she couldn't possible bear the thought of losing someone else, and she couldn't let him get hurt from losing her like she was from losing Hyun Woo, either. She also said she had to keep moving forward, probably meaning she couldn't be held back by the fear or burden of caring about another as well.

So she's basically forced herself into hating Luka in order to protect them both, and I imagine she's managed to push him somewhere in the back of her mind for the last few years somewhat successfully, and yet. Yet she still rushes to save him when she sees that gun pointed at his head. She's injured and probably desperately needs medical care and is who knows how important a member of the rebels considering what we've seen her do for them so far and she still just runs as fast as she possibly can in that moment to move Luka out of the way and take the bullet herself. Luka probably wasn't even aware of what she was doing until the last second, when he was watching the life slowly leave Hyuna's eyes as he finally gets to hold her in his arms like he did when they were kids once more. And he will have to spend the rest of his life knowing that Hyuna's last action was to make sure he could live, knowing that her last breaths were spent telling him to forgive himself and live with love. And what do you do with that? When the one you love probably more than you even love yourself suddenly shows up out of nowhere and you can't even say a single word to them before they're just. Dead in your arms after literally giving more than they had to save you.

That's what hurts me the most about Luka and Hyuna's relationship. Despite everything, despite her best efforts, Hyuna still loved him so much that she sacrificed not only her own life, but potentially others as well if her role within the rebels or her knowledge was important enough. That Luka loves her so much he disregards his own safety to just rejoice in seeing her again. That he would've died happy knowing she was still safe, and yet she died instead so that he would be the one to stay safe, without even a second thought.

[allphatauri]

あの日、流した涙を忘れない - a retranslation

FOREWORD. The purpose of this retranslation is to not only fix mistranslations found in the original text, but also because I want people to know how Yuki writes. How he speaks. The Players’ Tribune launched in Japan in 2021. Yuki Tsunoda, Japan’s new up and coming Formula 1 star, was quickly announced to be one of the first athletes they’d cover. 

Originally published on March 25, 2021 (the Thursday preceding Tsunoda’s F1 debut on the 28th), the piece was later translated into English on May 6th, 2022 (the Friday preceding the 5th round of the 2022 season, Miami, on the 8th.). 

A blogpost by Daria Steigman describing the very essence of The Players’ Tribune included a rhetorical question that was very specific to me: “You know how nuance is often lost in translation?”. It was a question meant to suggest the opposite. The Players’ Tribune is committed to letting athletes tell their own stories, without catering to advertisers or having to be put through the words of reporters, an idea I adore: but eventually, as it globalized, and articles were no longer always default in English, there were articles you had to read through translation, if you didn’t know the original language. And for a long time I was okay with that. Eventually, though, I heard what a friend of mine, a native Chinese speaker, had to say about Zhou Guanyu’s article: that there was a certain desperation in his tone, an immensely evocative feeling, that just wasn’t portrayed in the English, in the title itself. It’s translated into “I Want You to Know This About Me”, but my friend said it’s more like “Things I Wished You Understood”. So I revisited Yuki’s article, this time not reading the English and Japanese separately but instead side by side: and I thought okay, yeah. There were mistranslations and lost nuance galore: I decided I would have a shot at translating it myself.

Here’s the original article in Japanese. // Here’s the official English translation. (I wish I could credit the original translator somehow. I’ve been poking around for a while, but so far I haven’t been able to find any names.) I’d like to thank Nestor for beta-ing this for me. There were a lot of things I wasn’t sure made sense in English, so he helped a lot in clarifying certain analogies and localizing tone.

TRANSLATOR'S NOTES. For the sake of this translation, I prioritized a direct translation over stylistic choice. The official translation has new paragraph breaks and localizes metaphors. The official translation is, in all honesty, much better written than Yuki’s rhetoric: he’d often explain things twice, and he speaks in a tone that pretty much spoils the story to come. I think that’s quite charming, so I tried to replicate his voice as-is, and thus it’s pretty much a sentence-to-sentence translation.  Notes for reference, seen in numbers throughout the text, can be found AT THE END / BOTTOM OF THE POST.

---

I won’t forget the tears I shed that day. 

I think that that would be the last time I’d ever cry from frustration [1]. 

4 years ago, I was still 16, and a student at the Suzuka Circuit Racing School. It was the final selection for Honda’s formula driver development program. If I got in, I’d be able to run in the domestic F4 next year, and if I failed… I planned to quit racing. 

Now, I stand at the gates of the stage that we call F1. Looking back on it, that was where my life split paths. A turning point. 

The final selection that year didn’t just include experienced drivers who had already ran in F4 previously, but also athletes who had come back from fighting overseas, and of course it was extremely uncertain if I would make it through. 

However, I’ve been karting and racing since I was 4 years old, and I had satisfactory results to my name. That same year, I was allowed a one-off seat and debuted in Formula racing to become the youngest to achieve a podium, and a maiden win in Super FJ’s final round, the All-Japan Master’s race. Even at the school, I had good results leading up to the final selection, and my points totaled for a fair fight for first or second overall. So I thought that as long as I didn’t make some huge mistake, I’d be able to claw into the top 2, and I had confidence I’d end up at the top in the end. 

I’m capable. If I can’t put out a good result here, or if I can’t entrance the judges with my driving, then I know how it all ends. So I had gone in telling myself that if I couldn’t get past this, I’d give up racing forever. Even if I failed, I’m sure there were other paths, like other development programs and driving outside of the Formulas, but I don’t like facing directions that weren’t my own. I decided that rather than half-assing something else, I would just lead a different life. 

However, the worst case scenario awaited me. Back then, my mentality was super weak, and out of all places for it to fail me, it decided it’d be at the final selection. I knew my body was stiff from my nerves from before the races. The very fingertips that gripped the steering were tense. This isn’t the usual me. So there I was, starting in that state, and I immediately did a false start… . I was given a penalty in which I ran slowly through the pit road and rejoined the track. At that point I was far behind the pack in the front, and it was like I was running alone. I felt so pathetic, and I felt nothing towards driving at all. As a result, the points from this race were essentially 0. An unmistakable 3rd, failing at the final selection. 

On the train home, I was so disappointed with myself that tears naturally began to flow. Ever since I started taking racing seriously, this kind of thing had never happened before. Though I was the youngest of the participants, I was confident I wouldn’t lose so it shook me when I did, and even if I try to envision the future I can’t see a thing. I remember clearly even now, how I was in such low spirits [2] that on that train home I didn’t even want to come home and see my parents. 

Despite it all, I had one glimmer of hope. Those were the words that the then-Honda F4 team principal had given to me. 

“You can’t race next year as a development driver for Honda. However, Honda has 4 cars in Formula 4. The remaining two seats, the ones that race for the Suzuka Racing School, might be able to go to you.”

That was because former F1 driver Nakajima Satoru (-san) had recommended [3] me. He was the principal of the school at the time, and had been watching us drive during the final selection at the chicane of the last corner. 

It was a version of myself that was given that penalty at the start and not even feeling up to race anymore, but I put my all into it as if to avoid any regret. I saw Nakajima Satoru (-san), standing at the final corner, past my visor. I didn’t want to show him careless driving. “It’s a despair-inducing position but I won’t give up, and I’ll continue running towards the pack in the front.” That’s what I thought. Then the path ahead seemed to clear.

In 2017, I entered F4, not as a development driver but from Suzuka Racing. Then, my overall yearly total ranking was an immediate third, and the next year of 2018 I was chosen as a development driver where I was crowned champion. 

It’s all because I had tasted failure at that final selection. [4]

I think the biggest change has been my mentality. Until I had a taste of that failure [4], I had good results, and I was kind of like, “oh, it’ll all go well in the end even if I don’t do anything”. Even that start I failed at the final selections– I had already known I wasn’t that good at starts, and I had lots of time to practice, but I didn’t. Somewhere in me I wanted to take the easy route, and believed in myself a little too much. On top of that, at the time, I was terrified of mistakes, and drove in a way that avoided them at all costs, so I was losing sight of ways I could improve. 

Having failed at the selection, a realization bloomed in me that I’m far from perfect, and that I had to get much, much faster. I figured it was important to stop fearing mistakes and just go forth and fail a ton, so that I find new things and learn from them. Because of this, when I came overseas, in the earlier parts of my F3 season two years ago and F2 season last year, even if I couldn’t get points the way I wanted to, I wasn’t pressed about it at all. If anything, I was certain in my process of making a ton of mistakes at the start to learn as much as possible from them. 

It’s famous that current IndyCar driver and former F1 driver Sato Takuma (-san) said “No attack, no chance” but I really think that that’s the truth. No matter what sport it is, you need to push yourself past your limits to discover what lies beyond that, and if you don’t even try, you’ll just stay where you are. So right now, even if I make mistakes or if my results are poor, as odd as it is, I don't feel like I’m struggling at all. Even if I make an error, how I take it is up to me. If I make a mistake, I want to confront its reason. When I remember that getting over that will help me get even faster, I’m less frustrated [1] and the feelings of wanting to get faster prevail: it helps me to always look myself in the eyes and stay positive.

With this opportunity to drive in F1, I realize once again how grateful I am to my parents. I loved to move around as a kid, so I was doing anything if it was considered a sport– swimming, soccer, mountain biking–and this is not a sport, but I was also playing piano. Now that I think about it, I think my father and mother were just letting me do everything I had an interest in. And, the reason I started karting was because of my father. He loved motorsports, and he was even doing gymkhana himself. One day, at a circuit he took me to, he let me drive a kart. That was the first. Actually, apparently I also tried out a pocket bike, but having done both I said “the kart is more fun”... I don’t really remember this myself, though. LOL [10]

But were there ever times when I didn’t like karting? A ton. [5]

For example, I was about seven years old. When I was playing video games at the karting track in some downtime, my father said something like “focus more on the race” and confiscated my game, and I was like “I don’t really want to do this anymore”. From there, my dad got stricter and stricter so that I would improve, and I got yelled at for a lot of things. Honestly, up until when I was about 15, I wasn’t thankful for my father at all, and there were even times I hated him. Talk about “THE rebellious phase”. I think I was right in the middle of it. 

In my studies, it wasn’t just my father that was strict but also my mother. She constantly told me to consider a future in which I wasn’t successful in motorsport and “go study”. My middle school didn’t have excused absences [6] so when the race was over I’d go home within that day and get ready for school, always go to school, be present in my classes, study and do [7] my exams, rinse and repeat. Honestly it was really tough, and I never liked it, but I continued to study pretty decently. 

Back then, I wasn’t able to really feel any gratitude towards my parents, but now I feel the total opposite. It’s only because they were strict on me, yelled at me, and taught me many things then, that the current me that exists now, I think. I’m really, truly thankful. 

I myself didn’t really think I could drive in F1 this quickly. Of all the drivers here right now, not even as a Japanese driver, but even including foreign ones, I’ve gotten here on the shortest route there is. 

When I was 7 years old, and I went to see F1 in reality at Fuji Speedway, drivers like Lewis Hamilton and Fernando Alonso were driving. At that time, it wasn’t adoration but instead a feeling like “one day, I want to race with drivers like these”, and those feelings don’t change even now. Hamilton is already a legendary person, and being able to drive alongside him is such an honor and something I still can’t believe, but once we're in the circuit, Hamilton and Alonso are all the same, just one driver. I think of them as an enemy. 

Those feelings don’t change, regardless of if they’re towards F1’s current fastest, my strongest rival [13] of Max Verstappen, or my teammate in my current team, Alphatauri, of Pierre Gasly. I want to hurry up and know how much I can keep up with Verstappen, and how much of a fight I can put up against him. Gasly was an athlete that was shining in Japan’s top series, Super Formula, when I was in F4 in Japan, so although a part of me wants to learn as much as I can from him, another part of me knows that given we’re in the same machinery, I’ll have to beat him one day, and I think he’s my number one rival. 

In the world of F1, what they want from you is “speed”. Even if you argue as much as you want that it’s not just “speed”, you’ll have impact as long as you have “speed”, and if you have “speed”, even if people pass you or you fall behind in the earlier parts of the race, you’re able to pick it up in the later half. However, it’s actually most difficult to show your “speed” when it matters most. My biggest strength is that “speed”, so I want to continue to absorb where I lack to build on top of that. 

Speaking of which, during this past break I said during an online interview that my goal is “to equal the record of 7 world championships” and came out a little grand, but I didn’t mean to imply that kind of attitude. [9] 

I haven’t even ran one race in F1, there’s no way I can say something like that. LOL. [11]

What I’m thinking right now, for my debut, is to first and foremost put out the maximum performance I have.And to get every extra point I can throughout the season. Like in F2, even if I’m promoted to F1 I’ll probably still make a lot of mistakes from the start to the middle of the season, but I want to make new discoveries and learn lots. At the press conference, I said that kind of general statement, but I got a question that was like “What is Tsunoda’s aspirations?” so I was like, “Maybe get 7 world championships like Lewis Hamilton?” and they used that as a big headline. To clarify, it’s more like my real intention is to focus on every small thing ahead of me, and if, as a result of all that piling up, my “aspirations” came true, I’d be pretty happy. 

Moving ahead, I wonder what lies ahead of me [14]. I want to improve my abilities, and grow to become a racer that represents the world of F1, and in doing that I’d feel a new kind of pressure and motivation, and what the fans expect from me might grow even bigger. 

That’s why I never want to forget the feeling of this year, in 2021, when I ride in F1 for the first time. I want to keep the feelings I have now, as a rookie, close to my chest, and from here on out fail as much as I want, learn a ton, and have fun. 

I don’t think I’ll ever shed tears like the ones I did four years ago, when I failed the final selection. I won’t forget the tears I shed that day. I wonder, though, if I’m to shed tears from now on, what kind of tears they’d be….

Realistically, maybe my first win? Getting to F1 is already really hard, but the road from here is only harsher. Winning is truly difficult, so what I shed from now on must not be “tears of frustration”, but “tears of happiness”.

[12]

----

TRANSLATOR'S NOTES. [1] Literally the first word was already giving me trouble: 悔しい is a really, really difficult word to translate into English. “Frustrated” is generally the go-to translation, but if ‘frustration’ is more of the anger that comes with the word ‘upset’, then 悔しさ is the sadness. That feeling of biting your lip and looking at the floor so you don’t cry. That feeling of misfortune, regret of failure. It’s a word that always felt a little sad to me. Frustrated feels a little angry to me. To me there is a bit of a cultural connotation to it as well: that balled fist of “frustration” feels like an English reaction, and the can’t-even-look-you-in-the-eye-ness of 悔しさ has a bottling up reflective of the culture the language is spoken in. I hope that made any sense LOL and I understand why the translator went with “disappointed with myself” instead. I used this translation the second time you see this word. [2] This word is often translated into “depressed”. In my opinion it’s worse than “becoming sad” but less severe than “depressed”. 

[3] Debated between endorsed and recommended, decided on recommended

[4] The word used for “failure” describes a temporary but deafening sort of defeat. The one that assumes it’s really difficult emotionally to get back up, but also assumes you will, anyway.

[5] okay so the structure of this sentence in japanese is actually really fun: it’s like “Times when I didn’t like karting… yeah there was a ton” so it’s structured as to raise the question, ‘oh, did Yuki ever not like karting?’ BUT he does this thing that he does a LOT where he accidentally spoils the result of that dramatic sentence in the first word. Like by starting with “But” or “however” he often ruins the dramatic effect that the rest of the sentence is supposed to imply. I initially didn’t translate it as a rhetorical question, but like this: But there were times when I didn’t like karting…. A lot of times. This is a more direct translation in the way he says it: but the translation I decided on, suggested by my beta reader and friend, Nestor, keeps the original feeling of Yuki’s speech. For the best possible non-rhetorical question translation I could think of, well, that was it. 

[6] 公欠扱い is when you’re absent for some special event like sporting and your absence isn’t counted, like you showed up. I think in most English speaking cultures this is often called an excused absence or a school exemption or . something of that sort

[7] the word he uses as the verb for ‘doing’ his tests/exams in school are actually the same ones he used going into the final race. It’s more like facing a big foe, to challenge something greater than you. Like he was squabbling up against the exam. Sword in hand. Gloves strapped on. Squared up. That kind of thing. 

[8] I think the official translation entirely mistranslates this sentence. The official translation interprets the first half of the sentence, “[That also applies to] the fastest in F1 yet, the greatest / strongest enemy, max verstappen, and also…” and applies the starting adjectives used to describe Max to describe Pierre also. Pierre actually has a whole ‘nother set of descriptors, roughly translating to “my current teammate for the team i’m in, Alphatauri”. The official translation says Yuki is calling Max and Pierre the fastest in F1, but that’s not really what he said imo. 

[9] It’s actually super vague what he’s saying in the original text: “I didn’t say that with that kind of intention (nuance).” But I think it’s an overconfidence / arrogance thing, since he knows where he is as a rookie, and he’s kind of making fun of himself for the bold claim here, retracting the statement. 

[10] a true LOL. an LMAO, if you will. An LMFAO, if you must. 

[11] the LOL you use when you’re trying to imply that you’re not being hostile . the LOL for when you’re trying to fill an awkwardly silent conversation.

[12]  The official translation is weird. YES, it is more nicely formatted. NO, it does not at all convey the actual emotion in his voice. There is a degree of certainty, in his confidence, in the emotion of his tears, not “I hope they will be”. Also my god he used the same “Here on” like 4 times in two sentences I was like PLEASE. PLEASE USE A DIFFERENT WORD but I think this is also very charming! 

[13] “Rival” is originally “enemy” here. Like deadass he calls Max Verstappen his biggest enemy. But don’t get me wrong: “enemy” has a negative, bad-blood sort of connotation, but Yuki says this like he’s a boss or a mob to defeat in a video game. Like he’s playing Dragon Quest, and Max is, well, the Dragonlord. His original use of “Enemy” over “Rival” only connotes a fighting spirit, and not something so opposing. 

[14] The real words Yuki uses here are “I wonder what kind of scenery I’ll start to see?” but since ‘scenery’ as a word in English can be interpreted literally, like traveling all around the world, I opted for ‘what lies ahead’, since that’s generally a more internal statement that retains the same meaning. 

＊I translated 母 and 父 to “mother” and “father” since those were technically formal. In my opinion “haha” and "chichi” are more formal than “okaasan” and  “otousan” even though there’s a -san. I think you can still replace them with “mom” and “dad” and it wouldn’t really lose much of anything. 

I’ve noticed some habits in his word choice, like how he often uses metaphors for walking / running, paths and doors. Physical places you’d walk on / through, you know. 

thank you so so much for reading up until this point, if you have! and even if you haven't, thanks for scrolling all the way down. <3

[witchygagirlwrites]

Fix You-Part 3

Kelly Severide x Reader x Matt Casey/ Sevasey x Reader

So maybe you're feeling more than you thought for Matt and Kelly?

You groaned when your phone started blaring and your hand shot out to slap across your nightstand in an attempt to find the damn thing. When you finally wrapped your hand around it, you brought it to your face, flinching against the bright light when you saw your sister Rein’s name. Technically she was your sister in law but her and Andrew, your oldest brother had married right out of high school so you pretty much just considered her your sister. She called you at least twice a week just to check in. She probably knew more about your life at this point than your brothers.

“Hey Rein” you answered and she laughed “Good morning honey. Did I wake you up?” you pushed yourself up the bed “No big deal. My alarm would’ve gone off in like twenty anyways” “How are things going?” she asked and you shrugged then remembered oh yeah this was a phone call not a video call. 

“They’re fine. Uncle Jeff is looking at some assisted living places this week and I’m helping him meet with a realtor for their place” she let out a breath “Have you decided what you’re doing yet?” you ran a hand down your face because honestly up until this point you’d been dead set on as soon as your Aunt Erika passed and your Uncle Jeff was squared away you would hightail it home to New York. Now? The thought of leaving Fifty one in the rearview was not sitting quite right with you. 

At your silence she laughed lightly “Is it that Captain and Lieutenant?” your eyes widened “Please tell me Andrew is on shift!” she laughed loudly at the panic in your voice “Of course! I’d never bust you out like that but come on, just between us” you sighed before saying “It’s not just them, it’s the entire house. They’re feeling like home Rein. They’re feeling like family, like I could belong here” 

“Maybe you do?” she suggested and you shook your head. Whatever you were feeling for Kelly and Matt was a crush at most. They were sweet, yeah and amazing and gorgeous and brave and had quickly become your friends and you talked to them both regularly but they were in love. They had been together for years. You had no place there. “I gotta get ready for work” “Oh and Spitfire sidesteps the question!” she laughed before saying “Call me later, ok” “Ok. Love ya and tell everyone I said hey and I love them. Tell Grams I’ll call her tomorrow”  “Will do”

You hung up and stared at the phone for a second. Your contract end date was closing in fast, alot faster than you would have liked honestly. Sylvie was the best partner you’d ever had, Fireball was your best friend and Firecracker was quickly working her way into being your other best friend. Chief Boden was the absolute best boss you’d ever worked under, the guys at fifty one well they were chaos embodied but they were yours. 

You shook your head and tossed the blanket off your legs. You needed to get a shower and grab everything you needed for your shift. You had to get your head clear. This was a little too much to focus on. “One thing at a time” you muttered as you headed for your dresser to find clothes.

Matt and Kelly were sitting in Matt’s quarters when you walked through the common area. They were all too aware of your contract end date. The calendar that hung in the kitchen of their loft had the date marked in red. “What do we do if she leaves?” Matt asked and Kelly shrugged “I don’t know. Do you think we have a damn chance? This is..well this is new even to me”

Matt shot him a grin because it wasn’t any secret that before they got together Kelly had been a bit of a playboy to put it lightly “I’d say so, Kelly Severide wanting to commit to not only one person but two?” Kelly glared playfully at him “Come on babe, don’t be mean to me too. She gives me enough hell” 

Matt rolled his eyes “And you fucking love it” “I really do” Kelly admitted with a grin. You cut your eyes up about that time and spotted them looking at you and winked at them. Matt laughed “You do know that was at me right? If she would’ve stuck her tongue out, that would’ve been at you” 

“I swear Casey” Kelly started but Matt shut him up with a kiss.

You were starting a pot of coffee when a call rang out for an all vehicle response to a warehouse fire. You shrugged and put the pot down “Guess caffeine will wait” then fell in line with the rest of the crew as everyone burst out into the bays, headed for their rides. 

You jumped into the driver’s side of the ambulance as Sylvie hopped into the passenger side. “Let’s roll” you pulled out between the truck and rescue squad, hitting the lights and sirens. “Wonder how bad it is?” she questioned and you shrugged “Guess we’ll see”

_______________________

Bad, really fucking bad. That was the answer. The warehouse was one of the biggest ones on the east side and it was a damn near rolling blaze. Since you and Sylvie were first on scene you were the paras in charge so you and she were running the show on triage even as another station house rolled onto scene.

You moved through the tent with Sylvie, trying to see which victims were ambulatory and who was in dire need to go first. For the first little while it felt like every time you got a couple cleared either the guys from your house or the guys from the other house came out with more. When the flow finally slowed you took a breath, eyes turning towards the crowd. Where was Matt and Kelly?

You looked at Sylvie “You got this?” she nodded, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion “What’s wrong?” you shook your head “Bad feeling? I’m going to Chief Boden” she nodded “Ok, go”

You made your way across the scene to where you spotted Boden talking to Herrman and the Captain from the other house. “Do not tear that wall down! It will make the fire turn and force it back towards my guys” you heard Boden’s deep voice as you got to his side and the damn other Captain called out to his house “Do it” 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” you yelled as you heard a loud cracking followed by calls of “SHIT. CLEAR OUT. CLEAR OUT”

“CLEAR OUT” Boden called across the radio and you dove for the other Captain “YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH” but felt Cruz and Capp grab you around the waist as the last minute even as you fought against them “IF ANY OF MY BOYS DON’T MAKE IT OUT I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU”

“Woah, why is my medic trying to kill you?” you froze your fighting when you heard Matt’s voice and turned to see him, Kelly and Tony walking towards all of you. They were the last three of your house that was inside. “This asshole decided to tear a wall down when Boden told him not to and forced the flames back towards you and Severide. That’s why the clear out had to be called”

Matt spun towards the other Captain “Why didn’t you listen to my chief?” and the son of a bitch had the nerve to shrug and saud “Gotta take risks every now and then Casey” then cut his eyes at Kelly before adding “Ask your boyfriend, we all know his record”

“THAT’S IT” you yelled and jumped over Cruz’s shoulder but this time Matt’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, quickly followed by Kelly’s too. Boden ordered the other Captain off the scene as the two of them carried you back to the triage tent before finally putting you down on your feet.

Your breaths were still coming in ragged gasps from how damn angry you were and you were glaring at the members of the other house, practically begging one of them to say something “Asshole wants to endanger my Captain and My Lieutenant then act like it wasn’t a big deal” 

“Your Captain?” Matt asked, a small smile slipping onto his face. “And your Lieutenant?” Kelly added, a smirk on his face. You realized what you said in the heat of the moment and tried to cover it by saying “Well until my contract is up” they shared a look then Matt shook his head “I don’t know you’re sounding like you belong here”

You shrugged “Maybe I just have realized you two idiots refuse to take care of yourselves so I might as well do it while I’m here”

Before either of you could say anything else Cruz came running into the triage tent and scooped you up laughing “Damn spitfire! Trying to fight an entire house”  Capp was on his heels “Like we would’ve let her. A single one of those assholes swing on her and they would’ve had to face us all” Ritter popped up from the back “Their Chief is still laughing and commending Boden on and I quote finding a para that suits his house so well”

You couldn’t help the grin that slipped onto your face, especially when Boden stepped into the tent. He had a serious expression on his face and at first you thought “Ok, I’m about to be seriously reprimanded” but then a grin split his face “And that ladies and gentlemen is how you protect your house” and patted your shoulder.

“Are you still seriously considering leaving?” Fireball asked, she had bought you a beer once she heard about what you did at the warehouse fire or well after she got through laughing when Kelly told her. You shrugged, eyes flickering across the bar to where Kelly and Matt sat with Jay, Mouse and Kevin. “I don’t know. I always planned to go home after my aunt passed”

“But?” she asked and when you looked back at her she nodded slowly and took a sip of her drink “Oh yeah been there. Had that look on my face too” You laughed “Christ, how did you manage it in the middle of a war?” she took another swig of her drink and stared into space for a moment before shrugging “Not well, at all. Maybe we both need to talk to Firecracker for advice?” and you both cracked up laughing.

Ethan walked by the table and froze when he heard you two laughing “Oh no, my trauma nurse and my favorite para are drinking and laughing. Should I call Med and tell them to be ready for incoming?” Fireball cut her eyes at you then shrugged “Naw. Firecracker isn’t even out with us tonight” he laughed “Thank god for small miracles” and kissed the side of Fireball’s head before walking off.

You looked back at her “I’m fucked here, aren’t I?” she raised an eyebrow “Well I mean..not yet” and your mouth fell open before she started laughing.

You checked your temperature again and groaned. It was still fairly high. You pulled your blanket back over your head and rolled over. You hated having to call out even for one shift, the irony in Boden having to call in a floater for a temp wasn’t wasted on you.

There was a knock on your door and you groaned. Fireball had already stopped by to check on you after her shift when you rolled through med and got diagnosed with the flu. She’d given you a shot of Tamiflu and called Mouse to drive you home because you were swaying on your feet. “Go away” you muttered but the knock was persistent so you wrapped the blanket around yourself and shuffled to the door.

When you opened it Matt and Kelly were standing there. Matt had bags from the grocery store while Kelly had bags from the pharmacy. “What are you two doing here?” you asked and Matt smiled “You’re sick so I doubt you went grocery shopping or feel like cooking” “Plus we got cough drops, tissues and a bunch of other stuff Fireball and Connor recommended” Kelly added looking through the bag he had.

“You two don’t need to get this crap” you argued but they both shrugged “It’s a three day thing. We have three off anyways” Matt said and Kelly grinned “Come on darlin. We aren’t leaving. You look like crap”

“Gee Severide, I see how you got Matt now. You’re such a sweet talker” he laughed “I just mean you need someone to take care of you for once. Take some meds, go lay down and Matt will make you some soup. This man can make chicken noodle that would make campbell's want to go out of business” 

“And if you two get sick and the house is out of our Captain and Lieutenant?” you asked and Matt grinned “We’ll be ok” you sighed and stepped back to let them in. They both stopped to tuck the blanket up further around you before Matt said “And you called us your Captain and Lieutenant again” 

You rolled your eyes as Matt headed for the kitchen and Kelly scooped you up bridal style “Come on you little burrito back to bed” you didn’t have to energy to fight, especially when you looked towards Matt and he was grinning so broadly at the sight before reminding Kelly “She needs to take the meds before she lays down!” Kelly nodded “I’ll plop her in bed then grab em”

“Just fix the soup and go” you argued once Kelly laid you in the bed but he shook his head “Naw, your couch looks plenty big enough for the two of us. Think we’ll stay a while” and walked out the room, asking Matt where the bag from the pharmacy was.

How the hell were you supposed to walk away from Chicago, from these two now?

@desimarie12

@waywardhunter95

[truelotus]

If Looks Could Kill— 06

Yandere! Sosuke Aizen x f! reader

warnings: stabbing, and pregnancy.

It has been well over 6 years since Shinji Hirako and the others have “disappeared”. Sosuke had became the squad 5’s captain after Kisuke Urahara’s incident..

It was snowing in the soul society, the whole soul society seemed to be at peace. It was the kind of snow that would make everything just go silent, serene and almost unreal..

The snow crunching at your feet as you stepped onto it, your nose was red and slightly runny. You tried to heat up your hands by using your breath, but it was really no use.

Why were you out here again?

Oh right, You just wanted to take a walk.. to.. think about certain things.

“I really should have layered more..” You hugged your own body, shivering and shaking from the cold air. The wind was just making it worse, this is probably the coldest the soul society has ever been.

“So cold!”

It has been a while since you’ve been alone, your current life has changed after joining up with Sosuke, you’ve been helping him in any way possible. But now.. you were alone.. with your own thoughts.

It was comforting, everything was quiet, nobody was around, it was only you who was out there in the snow today, everyone thought it was too cold to be out, and they were right.. it is too cold. But you just wanted to take a break from the world.

But quickly enough, your thoughts were interrupted by hearing another person’s footsteps—walking on the snow— you turned your head, expecting to see a random stranger.

Instead, you saw him.

Sosuke Aizen.

Sosuke walked closer to you in a graceful and elegant manner—as always— you stopped your tracks just so he could catch up to you.

“Y/N, I knew I’d find you out here.” He had a calm smile on his face, it seemed like he wasn’t bothered by the cold, not even the slightest bit.

“You did?” You couldn’t say that you were surprised, you knew that Sosuke kept a eye on you.. At first it disturbed you and disturbed your peace being. But eventually, you got used to it and just thought he was being overprotective over you.

He lightly chucked by your expression, as he caught up to you, he unwrapped his scarf that was originally wrapped around his neck.

He waved his hand, wanting you to come closer to him. With elegance, he wrapped his scarf around you.. the scent of his cologne was lingering on his scarf and you could smell it. Your cheeks and and nose were already slightly red from the cold but this only made them redder, it also brought some warmth to your face so you felt better than ever.

“Thank you Sosuke.” You mumbled out while fidgeting with the end of the scarf, he hummed in satisfaction, “It fits you quite well, why don’t you keep it?” He put his hand on your back to get you moving again.

“Can I really? thank you so much dear!”

“You’ve been doing so well for me recently, this is.. the least I can do for right now.” He said as he removed his hand from your back.

“It really is beautiful.”You said as you admired the little snowflakes falling from the sky, it really was beautiful.

“I could say the same thing about you.”Sosuke replies, his voice was soothing and calm. In his eyes, there is nothing as beautiful as you.. there was nothing as pure and loyal like you, you were the only perfect thing in this world.. but he’ll fix that—of course you will still be seen as perfect in his eyes—

The tension between you two seemed to lingering around still, it was hard to ignore. His presence continued to make your heart race, even after spending over a decade together, you still acted like a awkward teenage girl with her little crush.

This man has seen every single part of you, mentally and physically.. so why are you still so anxious around him? Is it because you acknowledge the obsession he has towards you? the unstable love he his towards you? or is it just because he is your lover.. and it’s just a innocent little thing you were so anxious about.

None of it really made sense to you, your own thoughts were just driving you insane.

“You have been quiet recently, have I done something to upset you? Or is it something else.” He stopped his tracks without you noticing, so when you continued to walk he grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you back to him, your face landing on his chest.

“W-What?” You said in confusion since your thoughts blocked his voice out, not hearing what he just asked.

His eyes slightly narrowed, he could feel himself getting rather frustrated towards you. He quickly calmed down, he doesn’t want his sweet lover to see him mad..

“Have I done something to you that upset you?” he repeated with a much sterner tone, he looked deep into your eyes.. no.. your soul.

He looked deeper into your soul, just like last time.. to find something deep within it. Last time he was trying to find anything disloyal to him.. this time he is looking for regret.

And that is what your soul is filled with.

Your throat tightened, you knew exactly what he was doing. You knew that he’d find what he wanted to find deep into your soul, you felt frightened, dizzy and tired..?

“I’m fine.” You lied bluntly, you turned your gaze away from him just so he couldn’t look at your eyes any longer, but you knew that it was too late. He found your true feelings already, was it over?

His smile dropped, you have never lied to him. You’ve always been truthful to him, you never even did those “innocent lies” to him.

“Really? I don’t believe you.” He grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks slightly with his one hand.

His arm snuck up on your waist, pulling you close to him. His touch was usually warm.. but this time it was rather cold. Was it the weather? or was it really him? He wrapped onto your waist as if you were on the edge of a high place, preventing you from falling down.

The whole world seemed to have stopped, even the snow that was falling down, just stopped. His soft and welcoming demeanor seemed to have fallen.

He forced you to lock eyes with him, you could see in his eyes that he was not the same man you met when first meeting him. His eyes.. the way he looked at you with his eyes seemed to make a difference as well.. it made it clear that he no longer saw you as a person completely, he saw you as something that he owns.

Before, he saw you as a mix of both.. but now? You weren’t a person anymore to him.

“Tell me, Darling.” He dangerously whispered, you could see his breath in the cold air as he spoke out. His voice sent shivers down your spine, all you could do is look at him, with a slight hint of fear in your eyes.

“Why do you pull away from me?”

“I’m not pulling away from you.”

His soft laugh only made tense, “Of course you are, You have been pulling away from me these past couple of years, haven’t you noticed? Even now.. you hide away from me.” He pushed his face further to yours.

You tried to step back, you pushed your hands on his chest. Only for him to have a tighter grip on you, preventing you from pulling away.

“I’ve given you so much..” He pecked your lips lightly, with a fake pleading look on his face. “So much and still.. seem to be unsure.”

You understood fully on what he meant, maybe.. if you just say your true feelings to him he’d understand? You wouldn’t have to do such things if you just speak about your own feelings.. maybe he won’t dispose of you.

“I never asked to be apart of your plan.” you whispered, your voice was shaky. You never asked to betray Shinji and the others, you never asked to betray your captain, you never asked for his attention or obsession, you never even thought of Sosuke ever returning his feelings towards you, you just thought you’d always admire Sosuke from afar..

But somehow.. you were lucky enough to have gained his love. And this is his love, take it or leave it.. this is a part of him loving you, so why can’t you just accept it? love comes in various of ways, just fucking accept it already.

“I know, But it doesn’t matter.” His grip on your face loosened up, the air seemed to have gotten more cooler, you could see the snow beginning to fall again, it was swirling around you both. It seemed like.. the air was starting to turn against you.

You felt suffocated.

“I know you understand, that you belong to me, you were born to be loved by me, and nobody else.” His voice was low.

“No..” You tried to protest against it, but it wasn’t enough.

“No? Are you saying that you cannot become the queen of my world then?”

“This just.. isn’t right! I can’t do it!” Tears began streaming down your cheeks, you tried to break free again but his arm was wrapped around your waist just too tight..

“Sosuke.. Y-You’re.. You’re going on a path that I can’t follow! I don’t want to-”

You stopped your words when feeling his zanpakuto going through your chest.

The warmth of your own blood began to spread through your clothes, somehow.. there was no pain behind it. “Sosuke..” You whispered out as you raised your hand, touching the blade.

“I respect your wishes Y/N.. I must say though.. I am very disappointed.” He pushed his blade deeper into your chest, causing you to cough out blood, “I cannot see another woman becoming my queen.. And if you truly do not want to become it. I have to kill you.. no matter how much I want to enforce it upon you.”

“I-I see..” You wanted to scream for help, but you knew that even if anybody came.. it’d be useless because they too would have gotten themselves killed by Sosuke.

“I had a wonderful experience with you.. Y/N.” He lightly smashed his lips against yours once more.. Smiling softly at your face.

He carefully took his blade out of you, making sure not to cause such a mess on the almost pure white snow..

There were droplets of your blood on the snow.

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He whispered before lightly placing you down to the soft snow, leaving your body there. The snow continued to be more and more stained with your blood.

You watched as he walked away, did he regret what he did to you? Were you really going to die right here? You had dreams..

Not only that..

You were carrying his child.

You were going to tell him soon.. but you were afraid on how’d he react because this was certainly not apart of his plan.

When his presence was truly gone, you used the little strength you had within you, unsheathing your zanpakuto.

“Ban..kai.”

You blinked your eyes open, you recognized the place surrounding you. This was..

The domain of your banaki.

The area was mostly covered in water, lotus flowers scattered throughout the domain. The petals of the lotus flowers were all different. In battle they were used for either healing, bombs or smoke.

In your domain, you could walk on the water, you haven’t been in your own domain for a while.. so it shocked you a bit when you were standing on the water.

“I see that you’re finally awake, Lady Y/N.”

That voice..

“Sir Seiren!” You turned around quickly to face the spirit of your zanpakuto.

Seiren was a tall, toned, beautiful man. He had beautiful long black hair, light pink eyes, his voice was soft but deep. He wore a lotus pin in his hair, the lotus pin in his hair matched the lotus hilt on your sword.

“Bout time! You’ve been in my domain for like 9 months! I was worried how you would be giving birth!” Even though Seiren had a sweet and calm demeanor, his personality was quite the opposite..

“9 months?! I’ve been in here for 9 months! wait what do you mean by giving birth?” You realized what he had just said, were you hearing things?

“Yes, giving birth! look at your damn stomach woman!” You looked down quickly, your belly was extremely round.

“How- what-”

You were at a loss for words, how was your child this big? you for sure didn’t get the nutrients for them because you’ve been out for so long. Were they going to be okay?

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve actually been taking care of you ever since you came here. Your child should have the right amount of nutrients, I’m pretty sure they do from the size of your stomach..”

“Okay that last part was unnecessary Sir Seiren!”

After a while, Seiren explained to you everything..

You used your bankai to get yourself into your domain, you for sure knew that Seiren was going to help you.

But as soon as you came into the domain, you went unconscious. Seiren went to his physical form to help you as quickly as possible , he used one of the healing lotuses to help you but.. you never woke up.

He’s your zanpakuto.. so he knew that you were pregnant. So.. he tried to give you as much nutrients as possible. This domain was kind of his own home so, he did what he could and helped you and your child.

He continued to take care of you for the next 9 months, he wasn’t a specialist or anything but he did everything he could do. He didn’t want his master to die just like that, especially when his master is carrying a child.

“What are you going to do now? Lady Y/N.”

You were at a loss for words, you would be giving birth soon. And thanks to Seiren, you were going to have a healthy baby boy or girl. You really don’t know how he did it but he did it.

“Can I stay here until my baby is born?”

“Do what you want, Lady Y/N. You can stay here for as long as you want. I really have no problem but make sure to keep that baby quiet once it starts crying! This place is peaceful.. I don’t need a baby to disturb that!”

“Thank you.. Sir Seiren.”

[3lliesan]

"Move."

Time.

Yuu didn't have much time.

They realized this after the Dwaf's Mines, the running, the fight, and the trip back from Crowley's office. Ever since that black ink sunk beneath their skin, there was no way to stop it from slowly killing them even faster unless they somehow found a way to release it.

Even before all of that, Yuu knew that their 'heart' was weak. Not having as much strength as when 'she' lived.

Yuu was almost fine with just being invisible. A passing wind, that a few would notice, and forget just as quickly when they're gone. That would leave less pain and bitter tastes...

...

But...

That feeling.

The running with a purpose to achieve something.

The trust in each of their hearts to continue living.

Going against the odds even if things seemed hopeless.

The victory.

A glimpse of any color will do. Just as it did back then.

drip. drip. drip

ba-dump. ba-dump.

There were drums in Yuu's ears right now. No. Heartbeats. Everyone was doing their best to keep themselves alive and find ways to do damage to the Blot creature behind the bloody red queen, and a close friend of one of the people involved.

[Doodle Suit] can only hold out for so long, about half the people fighting were only first-year students, and that incompetent excuse of a headmage was probably too busy to hurry up and get reinforcements to arrive.

Though, most importantly..

"...fuck--!"

Yuu was currently having a problem of their own right now.

Riddle's spear pierced their arm, pinning it to the ground.

And it took a lot of effort for them not to scream.

It stung more than any ordinary arrow. Like a parasite, it was eating away at their limb. Flesh dying black the more time passes. The ones that noticed wanted to help, shouting out in concern, but unable to do much since they needed to focus on fighting for their lives, with Yuu, the one leading the whole thing down.

Is this really it? This was how I'm going to die? What can I even do if Trey uses his unique magic? I doubt it'd lessen enough damage for anything to be done. Am I going to see the fight til' the end at least..?

Sounds went back and forth like a broken record. Yuu tried to block out the entire world with the sound of their heartbeat.

bam. bam. bam. bam.

bam. bam. bam. bam..

Is there really nothing that can be done? Come on, think! Anything!

---

"There's ghosts in the mines?!"

"You've got to be kidding-"

---

"What, you a chicken or something?"

"Who are you calling a chicken, huh?!"

"idiots- do you want to live through this or not?!"

---

"Here's the plan..."

---

"I don't know how we're still alive! Hah- haha!"

"... Bahaha-"

---

--

-

"Oi, Yuu- or should I call you prefect now~?"

"Say that again and I'll show you a demonstration with the word, defenestration." Yuu retorted without hesitation. It was still too early in the morning, they hadn't had coffee in two days, and being addressed formally never failed to weird them out.

"...You look like a pretty guy, but you're freaking scary, you know that?" Now what is that supposed to mean?

Ace sighed, making himself right at home on the previously dusty sofa. "Anyway, as I was saying. I've been wanting to ask this for a while."

"What's up with that sword? You've been keeping that thing with you since the entrance ceremony, and it's not even in good condition."

Ah, right. You've been bringing that broken blade around in its sheath. Now that both Ace and Deuce know that it's only half a sword, that makes it seem even stranger.

"What, is it a family relic? Ya trying to look cool or something?"

"That's.. uh..."

... Well, it's not like Yuu could say anything about it being the one thing tied to their past or something. The atmosphere would turn weird.

---

.

.

.

Yuu's eyes locked right at the unsheathed red blade, in its usual purplish glow during battle. Ever since Yuu figured out how to convert blot to magic power in small amounts, they thought that they'd never need to use the same weapon again from the previous world.

tick. tock.

They pushed their body up with their left arm the best they could, ignoring the pain from the other side.

tick. tock.

Their vision getting blurry, crawled with any remaining strength they had.

drip. drip.

There was no time to have any fantasies of an miracle to appear, nor was there any time to drown in the despair of the current reality.

. . .

. . .

The muscles were begging to stop. The fight was still ongoing. Sounds of running, dodging, clashing, and casting was heard.

There were also an air of anxiety, tense, unnerving feeling in the air.

Along with fatigue.

...

Oh, right.

I'm tired.

Taking a small nap should be fine, right?-

No, I would definitely pass out, or worse..

Give up.. then what would all that be for..?

Why am I... even trying...

----+----

"W-We did it?"

There was a moment of silence as the three tried to process what had just happened.. If the dead monster on the ground was an indication of anything.

"We won..."

"Hooray!"

"We did it!!!"

...

what is it?

Was it because we won? We survived it together? Was it the thrill?

As Yuu started having strange thoughts, they stared at their friends for a while, broken weapons loosely held, still dazed... but not from the same thing as the two boys, too happy to notice how uncharacteristic it was.

Yuu couldn't pinpoint it in a few simple words to brush it off as something cliche. No matter how many literary works they could find to somehow find a way to describe it, it wouldn't feel right...

And for the first time. Yuu wasn't sure if they wanted to figure it out whether it was a good or bad thing.

...

'I want more of it.'

----+----

"...Damnit!"

Reaching out to the purplish hue, so close yet so far, nameless continued ignoring the pitch black crawling up their skin.

drip. drip.

"Just a little... more..!"

Crawling up the neck, pulse dimming bit by bit, soon syncing with the booming of the chest.

drip. drip.

"Move."

A glimpse was all that was needed. Even if You became one with the abyss. A single strand of color in a monochrome plane was enough.

So.

Drip. Tap.

"Move, damnit!"

As soon as Yuu clenched the weapon...

-BOOM!

"...Eh? The attacks..."

"They're all dissolving and gathering towards one place...?!"

So I may or may have not decided to dump any ideas here as practice until I get back on ao3 since something is better than nothing... haha- Yea, this is brain vomit. Please do the same whenever you read what I make THANK YOU! :DDDD

(P.S: Could you tell that this is one of the few times I'm describing atmosphere and feelings? It's so complicated. And I'm going cry :'D)

@twisted-drawritings @karmicpunishment @mellosdrawings