#i mean ive always LIKED them but i never went to deep on them. i dont like them as much as the awakening second gen obviously. look at me.

[sieglinde-freud]

asugis honestly such a cool character locked behind 1) the most horrible plot device in any game ive ever seen in my life and 2) looking too much like a guy from the last game and it SUCKS because he was basically already given a great character concept with all the saizo stuff but then intsys was like “wait but what if was also gaius?!” which killed the appeal for most people. which i get, but hes also just… like he has some similar speech patterns but they were both brought up so differently and in wildly different contexts its like… hes really… not gaius… the most hes got is like the sweets thing but even then they both go about the candy thing pretty differently so? its just the fucking hair. which, by the way, asugi doesn’t even look good with gaius orange. like omg… idk man i think asugis a really fun guy with good supports all around and it just sucks hes brought down by the worst gimmicks of all time

[arolesbianism]

Yet another beautiful day to have the Maxwel tag blocked (can't see half of the posts in the Wendy tags)

[icallhimjoey]

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: thanks for the love on part 1 – the longer messages ive gotten have been so nice! i hope this 2nd part doesnt disappoint!!

Wordcount: 5.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Another little thing. Cute until it wasn’t.

“You can’t be serious, oh my God,” you heard loud complaints coming from the door mat after the door slammed shut. You pushed yourself further into Joe’s sofa in a bad attempt to hide yourself away, because you knew exactly what was coming.

“In my flat?”

The endless bickering over the thermostat was another little thing to be swept under the rug.

Dramatic loud footsteps came closer at rapid speed. When you looked up from your toasty cosy little comfy spot on his sofa, you saw Joe barge in, losing his coat as he was walking, straight over to where the thermostat was.

“In my fucking flat?!” he made eye-contact, facial expression wild as he kept walking, arms moving to take his sweatshirt off next.

There was a small chance that the deep frown would quickly make way for a cheeky grin. Sometimes, it did.

“It’s like a fucking sauna in here– twenty-four degrees?!”

But the cheeky grin never came.

Which was honestly a real shame, because Joe’s hair had gotten all ruffled up from the sweater he just pulled over his head, and when he turned to look at you with a hand already going ham on the minus button, you couldn’t help the laugh that startled out of you.

“Unbelievable. Unacceptable. She can’t be seriou–” Joe turned the heating down to a much more reasonable, in his opinion, eighteen and a half degrees Celsius.

You couldn’t help the cackling at Joe’s outrage. He’d pulled half his T-shirt up when he’d discarded layers, and you were given a lovely view of his bare lower back. Everything about your view was lovely, and had one of your friends been there, you would’ve both laughed at him. Or, at least, given each other secret smirks.

Joe then turned around and looked at you, face set in a deep frown, and said, “You cannot be serious, how is this comfortable to you? It’s absolutely boiling in here, like I just stepped off of a plane in fucking, I don’t know, fucking New Delhi, or whatever.”

He then strode across the room to open a window, to which you finally spoke up.

“No! Not the window, it’s so windy out–” before you could finish your sentence, Joe cut you off with a loud, “It feels like an oven in here!”

The window got opened anyway.

“No, oh my God, it’s subzero out there!” you emerged from your cocoon of blankets where you’d sat nestled into the corner of Joe’s sofa to climb over the back of it in an attempt to fight Joe and close the window.

“Feel my hands!” you got your hands on him, grabbed his T-shirt whilst still half on the sofa, feet digging into the seat.

“No!”

“Joe, feel my– here, feel them, feel my fingers!” you managed to shove a cold hand into his neck that made him yelp.

And sure, the wrestling that followed after where you got shoved back onto the sofa as Joe forced you back onto it was cute.

The loud, “What the fuck, your body is broken!” that came from him as you put both your hands under his T-shirt whilst giggling was cute.

It was cute that Joe then went, “Come here!” and would wrap himself all around to let his body warm you. The endless days under the covers, bodies tightly entangled just because you’d shiver out of your own skin with the heating off was cute. Chattering your teeth together, lips going fucking purple after a shower, the cold air making your wet hair feel even colder against your skin was cute, because then Joe’d be like, “Let’s get you toasty.” before wrapping the both of you up in a throw blanket on the sofa which was cute.

You’d even argue it was cute that Joe’d find you standing in front of the oven after he’d made dinner, catching the warm air as the whole thing cooled down with the door open, and instead of making fun of you, he’d join you there, hugging you from behind so you got warmed up from either side.

But cute had an expiration date.

The cuddling started becoming a task.

The never-ending secret fiddling with the thermostat became really fucking annoying.

It was all cute, until suddenly, it wasn’t anymore.

It was cute until you couldn’t even use your phone in his living room because your fingers hurt.

Sort of cute until your shoulders were sore from pulling them up against your ears for hours straight.

Until Joe started making comments about you paying his gas bill because every time you were over, you’d complain about frozen toes until he would turn the heating up a little.

Until Joe started yelling at you when you would turn and leave the heating on, even if you weren’t in, because you didn’t want to come home to a freezing flat.

Until Joe would yell at you for leaving the heating on in your own flat.

It was one of those things that had eventually added to all the absolute shit that your relationship had become and why, ultimately, you had decided to step out.

The forever, why is it fucking boiling in here coming from him, and the forever, I’m cold, are you cold? coming from you became something that got swept under the rug until you tripped over the hump it left there.

Just another little thing. Cute until you started wondering if it ever even really was…

It’s cold.

Not quite freezing, but definitely cold. It’s thick-coat-warm-scarf kind of cold, but in the sun it’s nice. You need sunglasses to be able to read the words on the pages in front of you, it’s so bright, but this is your favourite type of autumn weather, and the spot you’ve found is just perfect.

Sitting outside, you let your fingers be warmed by a drink and get to enjoy London the way you like best; surrounded by hustle and bustle, but hidden away in your own little world as you let your mind be fully consumed by the book you’re reading.

This is nice.

You almost like it more than going for a coffee with a friend.

Just a little bite of something. A little sip of something else. A couple of pages of plot. Sun on your face.

It’s nice.

You are completely unsure what prompts you to look up, but you do, and you can’t quite believe yourself when you notice Joe walk past.

What the fuck?

You could’ve looked up from your reading at any other time. Could’ve gone for a sip of your drink at any other given moment.

Could’ve missed him.

Should’ve missed him.

But you didn’t. Of course you didn’t. You notice him as he strides past, and he seemingly doesn’t see you. He’s gone before you even get to think about saying hi. Of letting him know that he’s just walked past his ex-girlfriend who, not too long ago, invited him into her bed even though she was seeing someone then.

Was.

It’s fine. He wasn’t right for you, and waking up to Joe still asleep on your side of the bed only confirmed those early doubts.

You suppress a smile at the coincidence of seeing Joe on this random afternoon and hide one hand in between your crossed thighs to warm it as you get back into your book.

However, you barely get the chance to.

About a minute in, you notice him from the corner of your eye, walking past again.  The other way this time, and he’s sort of squinting at something further up ahead of him, like the sun is making it really hard for him to see something.

Is this man lost?

You follow Joe’s line of sight, but nothing really stands out, and before you know it, he’s out of earshot and swallowed up by the other pedestrians.

Feels a little weird. Maybe you should’ve said hi. You saw him walk past twice. It’s fine that you didn’t, you don’t have to say hi, but, it definitely feels a little weird.

You give the paragraph in front of you another go, but this time, you can’t even make it to the end of the first sentence before you recognise the outfit in your peripheral vision.

Joe walks past again, but real fucking slow this time.

You just move your eyes to check what his legs are doing, not moving otherwise, and then, two steps past your table, he stops and you hear him mumble something. You look up a little more to see how he pretends to check a watch that he’s not wearing before he turns around again to walk back the way he came, and finally, you understand what’s happening.

Joe has seen you.

And this is him trying to catch your attention.

You scoff a silent laugh into your book, let it double you over a little because, this is really fucking ridiculous, isn’t it?

A few steps down the pavement, Joe turns one last time, and then, without saying a word, walks over and comes to sit down next to you. Just, takes the other seat at your table without even looking at you.

You’re openly staring at him now, confused at what the fuck he’s doing. Joe leans forward, a little over to you, to fish a paperback that looks like it’s seen better days from a large coat pocket. Then a hand disappears into his other pocket, and he dumps everything from inside onto the table; his phone, an earphone case, his smoking things.

You wonder if Joe had seen you that first time he walked past.

Or if maybe he’d already walked past before you’d noticed him.

Wouldn’t surprise you.

You watch how Joe settles. Sits back in his seat with a loud grumbling exhale, opens his book, and finds the page where he’d left off. He’s not looked at you once.

You tut and shake your head, but that smile is there to stay.

Idiot.

You give that same stupid first line of that same stupid paragraph another read, but your head’s not with it. You’re waiting for Joe to say something. Your eyes are scanning words but you’re reading absolutely nothing.

Then, just like you predicted, you hear a very soft ahem coming from beside you.

You turn your head to look at him, and find him looking at you through narrowed eyes.

Could be from the sun. It’s very bright.

“It’s really unfair for you to be here.”

But no. It’s aimed at you.

“Um…” you start, already beyond offended. “What do you mean unfair?”

“Well,” Joe uses large gestures to place his book on the table with a little too much force. “My afternoon plans were to go and sit out here by myself and read a few pages, but now,” Joe motions around, makes a funny face and finishes, “You’re here.”

You laugh.

“My apologies.”

“Had to walk past six times before she even sees me. Very unfair.” Joe scolds playfully and makes you laugh again.

A waitress shows up and asks if she can get you anything, and for a short moment, the two of you look at each other. Then Joe says, “She’ll have another one, and I’ll take the same. Can we see a menu?” without breaking eye-contact with you, and, Jesus Christ.

Then, to be polite, he quickly looks at the waitress, says “Thanks.” with a show-stopping smile and you can see the effect it has on her.

This guy’s a charmer.

The waitress smiles, says, “Yes, of course!” and leaves, and just like that, stupid smirks are shared over a small table that’s perfectly placed out of the wind and in the direct sunlight. You both have books, and then warm drinks get brought out, and it’s silently decided that you’ll be here for a little while to share each other’s quiet company.

Joe ends up ordering a couple of bites he can share, things he knows you like, so even if you weren’t planning on eating, he knows that if he gives a plate a little push you’ll go for a little something. You feel a weird joy inside of your chest because you’re single right now and so this time around there’s no hidden guilt about spending a little time with Joe in public.

You don’t give a shit if someone sees you.

You were there first.

Joe joined you.

If word got back to Emily, you’d still have to do some explaining, but… you’re not doing anything illegal, you know?

“What are you anxious for?” Joe suddenly speaks up after you’ve been trying to wrestle your way down a page. “Are you meeting someone? Have I just ruined–”

“I’m not anxious.” You cut him off.

Joe’s eyes flick down to where you’re scratching your thumb nail over the ribbed hem of your jumper that you’ve pulled over your hands, fingers half hidden inside the sleeves, the frayed edge giving away how often you do that.

He reaches for it, wraps his fingers around your wrist and you only realise then what he means. You drop your shoulders and force yourself to relax.

You keep forgetting Joe knows things about you.

“I’m not meeting someone.” You then confirm, because there’s no one else to meet, but you’re surprised at how sweet the words come out of your mouth.

You’re giving yourself away.

Letting yourself be read too easily.

Oh God, reel it in already, you’re embarrassing yourself.

Wait.

Does Joe have someone else to meet?

Is he dating someone? Or, and this is actually the question that needs to be asked: does someone out there think they’re dating him? Has he been acting a certain way with someone where that’s the idea he’s left them with?

Presumably not; those fingers wrapped around your wrist far too easily for a hand that belong to someone taken.

Still, you aren’t sure.

You know what he’s like.

Plus, you hadn’t been single the last time this happened, and your hands had been places they shouldn’t have even come remotely close to, so you’re not sure how much hand-placement even really matters.

“Just me, today.” You add to clarify, going for a sip of your drink.

“Good.” Joe smiles, eyes back in his book, and you feel a little warmer inside.

Might be the sun. You’ve been sitting in it for a while.

“Got you all to myself then?” Joe checks, making sure.

Okay so it’s not the sun.

“No weird fake gym date you’ll try to convince me you need to go to?”

You bite your tongue, do your best to hide your smile.

“That wasn’t fake, I really was going to–”

“Yea, all right. Sure.” Joe’s still got his eyes in his book. Turns a page even though you very well know he’s not fucking read a single word since he sat down.

Your jaw drops in a gasp. “I was!” You lower your volume mid-outburst, because just when you hear how loud you are you remember you’re in public.

Joe glances up at you, and he’s just all cheek. Big brazen schoolboy smile and twinkling mischievous eyes, so fucking pleased with himself for working you up just enough for you to be embarrassed about.

And he keeps up the cheek.

Sits silently next to you, supposedly reading his book, but instead he just looks at you for ages, and then when you finally look back to ask him what the fuck he’s staring at, he goes, “What?” like you’re the one that has been staring.

Pushes a plate of bites a little over to you so you reach for some, only to then scoff when you do, muttering, “Rude.” under his breath.

Asks the waitress for the bill and adds, “She’s got it.” before turning to you and telling you he’s just going to go to the toilet real quick. You roll your eyes, sort of smiling as the waitress politely makes a joking comment before she goes after him to fetch the bill. Then, about three minutes later he steps out and goes, “Okay let’s go.” and it turns out he’s already paid for everything inside.

Goes, “No, this way,” with a nod of his head when you stand up to leave and want to head home, and for a moment you’re like, Joe, like he needs reminding that you’re actually no longer together as a couple, but he just goes, “Come on.” and holds a grabby hand out behind his back as he starts walking, waiting for you to come take hold of it, like you’re the one that’s being silly.

And... you are.

Because you then just… follow him.

Easily grab hold of his hand.

Easily let yourself be lead over to his flat.

Easily remember the route he takes, which busy places you avoid and which roads to cross when.

Easily fall into random conversations about, hey remember that one time that we had dinner at this restaurant and they tried to feed us raw chicken? they’ve got a new owner and it’s actually nice now, as you walk together and you almost forget that this dynamic isn’t normal.

It’s not normal to ignore every little thing that was wrong in your relationship. Every little thing that made you decide that you actually wanted out. Needed out.

But you suppose that, with the way Joe’s acting, it sort of is a little normal for you to feel the way you do.

It’s a little normal you no longer want to think about sides of beds, of the lack of communication, of the schedule issues, and the time management problems…

It’s easy to want to forget, and so… you do.

You decide to forget and so you do.

That is, until Joe opens his front door and says, “You’re going to love what I did with the place.” as you’re about to step inside. Before you even get the chance to laugh at his joke, because everything is exactly as you remembered it, you mutter, “Jesus fucking Christ!”. You swear you can see your own breath it’s so cold. “How the fuck is it colder in here than it is outside? You’ve got south facing windows!”

“Oh Jesus.” Joe remembers.

“You live like this!” You say with huge bulging eyes, like it’s the most outrageous thing ever, but Joe just smiles and hangs up his coat before he uses both hands to start undoing the buttons of yours.

“I was out.” He says, fighting your hands that try to keep your coat done up. “The heating’s off right now, so yes, it’s a little cold at the minute–”

“A little cold?”

“But!” he shuts you up. “I’ll turn the heating on now that I’m back and it’ll be warm in no time.”

You allow Joe to undo all the buttons.

Allow him to help you take the coat off completely.

Allow him to find the thermostat before you do.

Allow him to make a joke about how you live in a tropical climate and how you live like that in your tone of voice.

And then he asks if no one else ever complains about that. Because, surely, they must.

“Or did you find someone whose got the same biological inability to keep themselves warm?”

“No,” you huff a laugh as you pull your sleeves over your hands and cross your arms tightly over your frame .

“No? Jasper not giving you a hard time over it?”

You’ve never said his name was Jasper. His name’s not Jasper.

“No one is giving me a hard time about anything, thanks.” You bite back, and for a moment, Joe stops and looks at you.

Really looks.

Reads you.

You do your very best to look back and remain all casual, like you’re not afraid that Joe is able to read every single thought that pops up just as quickly as it vanishes in your brain.

You’re in Joe’s flat and, truly, you have no real reason to be there right now.

“Wow.” Joe then softly says, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. “How long did that last?”

He steps away from the thermostat, walks over to the fridge, and you can see how he’s only set it to 19 degrees. That barely counts as warm.

“Um. Mind your business.” You say, already walking over to change it. Set it to 23 degrees, or whatever.

Joe doesn’t need to know how you embellished how serious you’d been with this other man. This other someone. He’d only been around for a couple of weeks. A few months at best. Hadn’t even come close to meet any of your family – not even any of your friends, really. Emily had only seen him because she’d dropped by unexpectedly on a random afternoon.

“What did he do that you didn’t like?” Joe peeps his head around the fridge door, quickly adds, “Don’t set it higher than 20.”

“I won’t.” you lie, pushing the little plus button until it says 22 and try your best to ignore Joe’s question.

If there’s one thing you don’t want to do, it’s talk to your ex-boyfriend about this other guy that doesn’t even really deserve that label.

But Joe doesn’t let it go so easily.

“What was the thing that made you convince yourself that this guy wasn’t worth it?”

Oh, ouch.

What the fuck.

From the thermostat you give him a hard stare, one that he truly deserves because look at that stupid smug face, and then you dryly say, “I’m gonna set it to 30.” before furiously pressing that same plus button as quickly as you can.

Joe barks a loud laugh and you manage to get the thermostat up to 25.5 before a whole body grabs hold of yours.

A scuffle breaks out in the middle of Joe’s living room and you kind of love how tightly Joe’s wrapped himself around you. Kind of love how you bend back and forth, and how Joe just bends with you. How you shriek for him to let you go, and how he swears at you under his breath. How instead of letting you go he just holds on tighter. How he breathes in your ear as he squeezes the giggles from your frame. How you get pushed onto the sofa, and then, you kind of love how his face being so close to yours suddenly changes the air somehow.

Joe’s lying right on top of you.

Your noses are nearly touching.

Giggles die out, and with twin smiles, Joe lets his eyes scan your face for a moment.

You swallow thickly and try to ignore how quick your heartbeat’s picking up.

“This warming you up?”

You bite your lip and give your head a little shake as an answer.

“No? You need a little more?”

And this is where you should tell Joe to get off of you.

Where you should walk back over to Joe’s front door and put your coat back on.

Be the adult in the room and tell him it was nice chatting to him but, maybe it’s best if you go home, because you know that if you don’t, you’ll end up naked in his bed with body parts inside of other body parts which have no business being even remotely close to each other with clothes on, let alone without any.

Yet instead, you nod.

You smile and you nod, and it’s all Joe needs to lower his face and to make his lips meet yours.

Joe kisses you and it’s stupidly sensual. He gets your top lip between both of his and pulls away just slightly before he gets your bottom one. You can feel his teeth, and then his tongue, and you’re hesitant for just a moment, but then Joe goes to pull away fully because he wants to say something, but he can’t, because you get your hands on either side of his face and just pull him back in for more.

More.

You need more.

You’ve not been giggling at all Joe’s bad flirting for you to not get more.

Before you know it, you’re not just kissing, but you’re making out, and it’s all tongue and all teeth and hands all over, and it feels like the kiss has broken the seal because suddenly, you want all of it. Everything. His hands everywhere. Your hands everywhere. His mouth all over your body and your mouth tasting all of his.

You want his body parts inside of yours.

Need it.

Right this very second.

“Bed?” Joe gasps with his nose pressed to your jaw, and all you manage to do is give a barely-there nod.

Two arms pull you to sit up. Pull you to stand up. And Joe kisses you again like he just can’t help himself before he goes, “Wait.” and then goes to turn the thermostat down and you can’t help but smack his ass as you walk past and rush into his bedroom.

You’re not doing anything illegal.

You’re single, and it seems like Joe is too, so you’re fine.

It’s even colder in Joe’s bedroom if anyone can believe that, and you audibly shiver as you toe off your shoes which makes Joe laugh as he joins you there, says, “Quick!” and he grabs a corner of his duvet and holds it up for you to climb into his bed.

And you do.

Just get in without second thought.

Hide how you’re a little startled by how much you fucking love the scent of Joe’s bed, because what the fuck, that’s a weird reaction to have to the smell of a bed. But you love Joe’s bed, and love his luxurous down comforter, and love the loud crinkles as it moves, and love the way all of it smells.

What follows is you undressing underneath the covers, throwing pieces of your outfit at Joe who is getting out of his own clothes by the foot of the bed as he catches and dodges whatever you throw at him. It’s a weird dance of fabric and laughter until he jumps and launches himself right onto you. Joe kisses you some more, mouths remembering each other, before he works his way into bed with you.

The skin-to-skin contact heats you up quick enough to make you blush.

And remember how Joe said it was unfair that he ran into you that afternoon?

Well it just so turns out that it’s actually unfair that Joe remembers everything about your body.

That he knows you.

Knows what you like.

He gets his hand around the back of your neck, fingers pushed into those very specific spots as he presses his forehead to yours and does everything else just exactly right.

Exactly how you fucking like it.

It’s unfair that Joe knows exactly what to do, knows that if he touches you right for just long enough, you’ll get into the headspace where you’ll actually push to get your mouth on him. He knows how to get you to be so into it, you’ll just voluntarily disappear underneath his covers. Know how you won’t want to come back up until you’re forcefully pulled back into the cold air where you’ll be kissed until you lose your breath.

God, Joe’s so fucking good at kissing, it makes you want to live in his bed forever. You know you can’t – Joe’s phone keeps buzzing in his jeans that are somewhere on his bedroom floor, but, Jesus, you really fucking want to.

For whatever reason, the buzzing of his phone only adds to the excitement.

It shouldn’t.

But it does.

At least, for about fifteen minutes it does.

Then, the buzzing finally seems to stop. Finishes. And it’s not much later that you do too.

You’re wet with sweat and spit from kisses, skin left tingling and mind blissed out. When you turn your head to look at Joe, he’s lying on his back, catching his breath with his eyes closed and you can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes you.

“Go pee,” Joe says, motioning towards the bathroom with his eyes still closed, and you grin because, Joe knows you.

It’s still really cold in his bedroom, but he’s right, you do have to pee, so you quickly do as you’re told and it’s unfair how you can’t help your stupid grin from spreading when Joe calls, “And hurry up!” after you.

It’s unfair how fast reality finds you. How darting into his bathroom on your own sobers you enough to think, what the fuck am I doing?

It’s unfair how you have to look into the bathroom mirror and tell yourself, you’re not doing anything illegal.

It’s unfair how you don’t really believe it.

It’s unfair that this isn’t only unfair to you, but also to Joe, and probably to whoever else was trying to reach him whilst he had you in his bed.

Unfair that you can’t shake the feeling of how what you’ve just done actually feels incredibly illegal, because a phone only buzzes that much if someone is wanted elsewhere.

When you get back to Joe’s bedroom you see that he’s made no attempt to get his phone, and he’s quick to welcome you back into his coccoon of warmth.

“I probably should leave,” you say, but climb back into bed anyway.

It makes sense that Joe is wanted elsewhere. Makes sense that he probably isn’t actually single at the minute. That there’s someone.

Joe isn’t yours, you have to remind yourself. And if you are honest, you don’t even really know if you want him to be.

“Yea probably…” Joe trailed off, reaching arms over to pull you into his side. “But I’m not done with you yet. C’mere.”

But you do know you feel far too comfortable to resist his cuddling.

“Joe, you’ve got someone waiti–”

“Shh.”

He pulls until you are laying right on top of him, both his arms holding you exactly where he wants you. You want to make a joke, a snide comment, remind him of how cuddling used to be too much of a task. But then he says,

“She can wait.”

She.

Definitely not single, then.

Somehow, that feels good and bad at once. Good because that means this was just a quick thing that would remain just that, like it had before. Bad because that still stings.

Joe is seeing someone.

Someone else.

Joe is out there holding hands with someone else, laughing at someone else’s jokes, looking into someone else’s eyes and kissing someone else’s lips.

Joe is kissing someone else on the mouth.

Fuck.

It has been so long, and yet that still stings, even though you don’t want to let it sting you. You have to find a way to stop letting it sting you. Getting with someone else, with Jasper whose name wasn’t fucking Jasper, clearly hadn’t helped enough.

It feels silly how you’re simultaneously judging yourself so hard whilst also trying to justify feeling a certain type of way because, listen, you’re only human after all, aren’t you? It’s obvious that some things are going to affect you. Makes sense that you don’t love the idea of Joe holding someone else to his chest the way he’s holding you to his chest right now.

Those feelings are allowed.

But the flipside of that is that, if you don’t want to feel bad about something, if you don’t want to actively judge yourself, then maybe you shouldn’t have gone home with this guy so easily, you know?

He didn’t even have to try to get you to go with him. 

You just... went.

So this is kind of your own fault, isn’t it?

“Hey,” Joe suddenly whispers. “I can feel you think. Stop milling.”

You quickly pull your fingers from the edge of the duvet cover where you thumbnail was scratchig along the fabric.

Unfair that Joe knows you.

But sort of perfect that he does...

Shit.

“Feel this?” Joe doesn’t move his arms, but slowly curls his fingers where his hands cover your sides and makes his nails trail along your bare skin.

“Mhm.”

“Focus on that. You’re better in your body.”

You scoff a little, huff a breath through your nose that Joe feels just below his collarbone, and softly ask, “Rather than my brain, you mean?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“Shh. Go to sleep.”

In a criminal act, Joe kisses you on the forehead and makes you melt. Stupid how a forehead kiss makes your eyes roll back more than all the other things he’d done to you just now.

It’s real hard work to pull yourself back down to earth. To not let yourself marinate in this fucked up soup that the two of you have willingly gotten yourself into.

You clear your throat a little and hoarsely say, “I can’t stay over.”

“Hmm. I think you’ll find that you have no other choice.”

“Joe.”

“Just stay for a little bit.” Joe holds you a little tighter, “Just a little bit longer.” and slurs his words a little slower. Then he moves a hand and places it right where he knows it’ll render you fucking useless.

Unfair.

“Joe.”

“Shh. Later. Sleep now.”

And, fine. You’ll marinate. Who are you trying to fool?

It was all something for later.

You’re drifting off already, comfortable and warm, Joe’s familiar touch way too gentle and nice not to let sleep take over.

With Joe’s fingers softly tickling the skin of your side, his other rubbing circles into the dip on the back of your neck, and his slow and steady breath in your hair, you decide to forget everything else for now.

The heating was off, but you were warm.

Everything else was something for later.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @cowboymcflurry

@demonsanddemogorgons, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson

@emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby

@gri959, @hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns

@keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @loves0phelia, @mandyjo8719

@mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr, @munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq

@niallersfreckles, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid

@readergf, @royale1803, @skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac

@solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle

@tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[eunandonly]

⟡ ⸻ dandelion

riki x fem. reader | friendship and love blossoms between you and riki in the seemingly dull hospital ward

genre. friends to lovers, fluff, ANGST | warnings: angst, mention of illness, major character death, heavy topics, set in a hospital, incorrect medical terms | wc. 2k EN-

you and riki first met on the hospital rooftop.

it had been one of the rare days the doctors allowed you to go up there, deeming the fresh air as “good for you”. it had been such a nice warm night, the perfect weather for you to stare at the flickering lights of the city and passing cars. you found it interesting, perhaps a little bit sad even, to know that you seemed to be the only one stuck in time and unable to move forward with your life. the world went on and left you behind, the gap between you and the others only growing larger and larger. the dreams you had once had were now out of reach.

because you had just six months left to live, and six months wasn’t at all a long time once you thought about it.

and so you had been standing at the rooftop, lost in your own thoughts when riki joined you. you hadn’t seen him before; he was new to the hospital and freshly admitted. you two hadn’t exchanged much words at first, letting the silence speak for itself. just the presence of riki was comforting to you. someone your age that was also stuck in the endless loop of hospital medications and consultations. someone stuck in time just like you as they watched the world leave them behind.

the first words spoken to each other were casual and light. a simple, “why are you also in this hellhole of a place?” and “what’s your opinion on doctor yun?”. the nurses moved you into the same ward the moment they saw you conversing. they found your unexpected friendship sweet, and some of them even gushed about young love.

***

“do you ever feel scared?”

the question escapes your lips before you know it as you’re strolling around the garden. it’s a question that’s always been lingering deep inside you, simmering just below the surface. you try not to bring these things up when you’re with riki, choosing lighter and easier topics to talk about. laughter can always be heard when you two are together even though the circumstances are dire and seemingly hopeless. you are both slowly and surely dying, succumbing to your illness despite the days and months and years spent telling yourselves that everything would be fine and that a miracle would happen.

but it never works out like that, does it? once the doctor gives you a set time that you have left, that number is the only thing you can see when you close your eyes. the clock is ticking and it has no kindness or mercy to people like you and riki.

“scared?” riki asks, giving you a glance. “i don’t think i’m really all that afraid to be honest.”

“how?” you breathe, tilting your head up look him in the eye. you look for a sliver of fear or doubt in his eyes but find none.

“there’s nothing much to be scared about. it’s true, the time we have left is seemingly cold and mean, but we shouldn’t waste our precious time on such a negative feeling.”

you turn his answer over and over in your head, wondering just when you’ll stop being haunted by the thought of death being just around the corner.

***

it’s been over three months since you and riki met on the rooftop, and there’s no denying that there’s a subtle change in the air between you two. you wonder if he’s noticed as well . you definitely have. you would say something about it if you weren’t so scared- gosh why were you scared of everything? you were afraid of things changing between you and the thought of that alone made you feel a pang of loneliness.

it’s the little stuff: the way your eyes meet across the room when doctor yun goes into one of his lectures about the importance of staying still when you’re connected to an iv drip as you both try to stiffle your laughter. the concern that clouds his eyes on unrestful nights when you’re tossing and turning from the pain of it all. the endless patience he has for you.

it makes your heart skip a beat. a palpitation, that’s what doctor yun would probably say.

***

“riki, i told you i was going to win,” you say triumphantly as you put down your last uno card. “i’m way too good at this.”

you give riki a big smile and pick the card back up again to wave it in front of his face just to rub it in. you would do a little celebratory dance if it weren’t for the multiple tubes connected to you and strict orders from the nurse not to move too much.

“it was just this once.” riki says, rolling his eyes playfully. he looks at you with so much tenderness and endearment that you’re convinced for just a second that he likes you back.

his look alone makes a flush creep up your too-pale cheeks, and you have to turn your head away to hide your flustered face.

he’s so pretty when he smiles.

when you look back at him, it’s just too much. you reach out to sweep the hair out of his face, your fingers running through the soft strands before you drop your arm to your side.

“sorry.” you mumble, your face hot.

riki just grins, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “it’s okay, i don’t mind.”

as you stare at his face, you’re left with a sudden pang in your chest that leaves you breathless.

you love him so much. six months with him isn’t enough.

‘y/n,” riki says, touching your arm gently. “you okay?”

you smile, hoping it looks reassuring when it just hurts your face. “yeah, i’m okay.”

you take a moment to look out the window of the room, dozens of thoughts crossing your mind. there’s something precious about this moment, something so very special. you’re scared to let it slip through your fingers and disappear.

“riki,” you hum, eyes traveling to the heart monitor that’s mounted on the wall next to your bed. “what will i do without you.”

you can’t bear to think about riki leaving you behind just like everyone, and you can’t bear to think about leaving riki behind either. though it’s never been talked about, it feels like you two made a promise to stay by each other’s side no matter what.

“y/n, don’t go there right now, please.” riki says quietly, reaching out to hold your hand in his.

you take your gaze off the monitor and meet his eyes. “sorry. i won’t.”

riki eases back to rest his back, his fingers still intertwined with his. before you can say anything else, he gives you a fleeting peck on the cheek.

“I love you.”

you feel a tug in your heartstrings as you curl into his side and close your eyes.

“i love you too.”

***

you try to savour each and every day with riki as if it’s the last. some days you watch a film together in the ward or listen to music together. other days when the doctors allow you, you go up to the rooftop together and watch the constant motion of the city below. sometimes it’s just you and him curled up together and finding comfort in each other’s presence. though it’s all inside the premises of the hospital, riki still tells you that it’s a date.

strolls in the garden are rare but very much looked forward to, holding hands as you make a slow circle around the hospital building. everything you do with riki is precious and priceless. it’s at these moments you’re truly convinced that perhaps it is possible to stop time, pause the ticking clock during sweet conversations.

riki stops in the middle of the garden, bending down to pick something from the grass.

a dandelion.

“look,” he says, handing it to you by the stem. “this one hasn’t quite matured yet. it’s half yellow and half white.”

“it’s an in-between dandelion.” you comment, observing it carefully.

riki smiles. “yeah, an in-between dandelion.”

he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.

“can i blow on the seeds?” you ask in his embrace, looking at the dandelion you’re clutching in your hand.

“go ahead.”

you give it a gentle blow, and both you and riki watch the seeds fly away in the warm breeze, traveling further and further away to who knows where.

you’re convinced that you can’t be any happier than you are now.

but nothing ever lasts.

***

you’re jolted awake from the commotion around you, and you shoot up from your bed.

there’s an overwhelming amount of doctors and nurses in the room, all shouting as they crowd around riki’s bed.

“COME ON, HIS BP IS DROPPING, GET A MOVE ON IT!”

panic starts to set in. you’ve been in the hospital long enough to know that when there’s screaming of doctors and chaos in the ward as they yell about a dropping bp, nothing good is going on.

you scramble out of bed, not caring about the tubes that cling to you. all that matters now is riki and the doctors. you rush towards riki’s bed, trying to see what’s going on.

“where’s riki? what’s wrong with him?” you ask, your breaths coming out short and quick. an alarm sounds in the room and the beeping of machines intensifies.

“HIS VITALS ARE DROPPING BRING ME THE-”

you can’t hear anymore, you can’t even see anymore. your vision’s turned cloudy as you try your best to see what’s going on. you know not to push through the doctors. they know what they’re doing. they know. they’ll make riki okay again.

they have to make him okay.

you’re acutely aware of yourself trembling as you listen to all the chaos. your hands are clasped together, praying for god to please save your best friend, the boy you love.

you don’t have anyone else.

“please, please, please,” you whisper feverishly, almost like a mantra. your hands are shaking and your head is pounding. and than suddenly there’s a nurse by your side holding your hands as she kneels on the floor in front of you.

you don’t pay attention to what she’s saying, endless pleadings escape your mouth as the room fills with loud beeping that makes you clench your eyes shut.

until it all

just

stops.

the doctors who had been in action just moments ago all still. the only sound being the never stopping beep of the machine that signals a straight line on the monitor.

and than everything is just falling

and falling

and falling.

***

it’s a month since everything happened now.

a month since he left, a month since he let go.

you’re standing in front of his memorial, holding a thick book to your chest as you stare at his name that’s been carved into the plaque.

“gosh riki, i miss you so much,” you whisper as you blink away the tears that are threatening to spill. riki wouldn’t want you to cry. he wouldn’t. “you don’t understand how much i miss you. i was selfish, i couldn’t let doctor yun announce-“

you take a deep breath. “i couldn’t let the doctor yun announce the time of death because i couldn’t let you go. i was determined to keep you by my side.”

you let out a little laugh, trying to smile despite the numbness of it all.

“but riki, i can feel it approaching,” you say as you open the book you’re cradling against your chest. “i think it won’t be long until i join you.”

you pluck out a dry pressed dandelion from the pages of the book. it’s the one riki gave you in the garden, the in-between one that you blew on. you place it on top of his plaque, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips.

“i’ll see you up there soon, and we’ll do everything we want together. just wait a little longer.”

“i love you.”

a/n: this one was a little more heavy compared to other works i’ve written. i hope you guys still enjoyed, please feel free to leave me any feedbacks!! i’m not sure if i’m satisfied about this fic, so i’m really sorry if it was kinda shit

[griffonsgrove]

General Dating Headcanons | Black Hat

Black Hat X Reader fandom: Villainous/Villainos words: 1132 cw: none!! enjoy! a/n: Hi hi!! ive really been wanting to do headcanons for Black Hat for a while, I'm open to asks and requests so dont be afraid to drop a suggestion in!!

(Platonic):

Black hat is by no means an easy boss. He’s ruthless, unmerciful and bitter, and you are no exception in the Eldrich’s case.

At first.

When you were first hired to be an employee at Black Hat Organization, Black Hat treats you as he would any of his other employees.

With zero respect.

He has very little tolerance for inefficiency

But you were absolutely determined to live up to his impossible expectations.

Maybe you spent a little extra time organizing his paperwork, or added a smidge more arsenic to his tea than usual (he had a sweet tooth for poison occasionally) and maybe you even bothered to dust some of his prized artifacts and tomes from his glory days as villain, making them look as new as the day he got them, and so many other things you did that seemed to make his life a little bit more stress-free.

At first, he thought nothing of it, it wasn't uncommon that his henchmen would grovel at his feet and suck up to him, it amused him really. 

But overtime the eldritch realizes that you wanted to do these little tasks. 

But why?? He was the most feared being in existence, and you went out of your way to do the smallest task to appease him. You seemed to worm your way into his thoughts, even as he sat perched at his desk in the wee hours of the night. Why were you just so…sweet! You should be cowering in fear!!

Speaking of fear, he loooooooves to scare the shit out of you, popping up when you least expect, out of the shadows, morphing into some unspeakable abomination of eyes and mouths (possibly) scarring you, always got a kick out of him.

After working for him for some time you were the only one, he seemed to tolerate, you managed to do your job with little to no flaw or mistake, unlike his scientist.

Dr. Flug admittedly was slightly envious.

He’d never admit it but, Black Hat enjoys holding conversation with you from time to time. He allows you to ask questions, most of them being about all the things he had witnessed and accomplished in the eons he’s been alive. He almost admired the way your eyes lit up in wonder as he explained. Almost.

You enjoyed these little private conversations too, occasionally the demon would ask a question or two about yourself, which you would happily answer. He may show no interest on the outside, but on the inside he's curious. Something he rarely feels.

He does have a reputation to uphold however, and still threatens, yells and demeans you just as he would any of his other employees.

Gotta keep you on your toes, ya know? 

But deep down you know. You know that he secretly enjoys your company and is too stubborn to actually admit it.

You even dare to go as far and say that he was a friend. Don't let him hear you say that though.

(Romantic):

hooo boy

When I say this man is conflicted

The mere thought of love made Black Hat’s face morph into an ugly scowl, something he thought was near impossible for him to ever experience. The man had no heart for goodness's sake!

Oh, but then you had to weasel yourself into his life, his home, with your sweetness, didn't you?

Let me be clear when I say that this old man has never experienced these kinds of feelings before in his lifetime, and when he does, he thinks he’s possibly dying.

Did I also mention dramatic??

When realization dawns on him, he is absolutely floored, and the first thing he does is avoid you like the plague, which confuses you and raises a bit of concern. He rarely calls you to his office, and when he does, he avoids eye contact or just faces away from you entirely, barely acknowledging your presence.

Definitely becomes moodier, and more irritable as his feelings fester.

It’s not until you confront him one evening, when the manor is still and quiet, everyone having retreated to their respective rooms hours ago. That he finally confesses.

And being the extremely old fashioned eldritch he is, he formally asks to court you, how could you deny such a tempting proposition from the lord himself??

Of course, you say yes, why wouldn't you?? It’s an honor to be courted by Lord Black Hat!

Surprisingly, nothing changes much at first, he’s still very new to these feelings.

You both come to the agreement to keep your courtship strictly private and away from prying eyes, as I’ve said the man has a reputation to uphold.

God forbid Demencia finds out either. 

With all that being said, you both take things very slowly, which thankfully you were patient and understanding about, he's experiencing all these things for the first time.

It’s a good thing you're there to help guide him, right?

He may not have ever been in a relationship, but he isn't stupid. This demon is a straight up gentleman, and extremely chivalrous. Call it old-fashioned if you must, But the man is a charmer.

Despite his villainous persona, Black Hat shows rare moments of unexpected softness when he's alone with you.

He might not admit it, but he secretly enjoys quiet evenings, perhaps reading or just spending time together in one of his private studies. He personally enjoys reading the Necronomicon to you.

Black hat also has an uncanny ability to find and present unique, often mysterious gifts. They might be rare artifacts, darkly enchanted trinkets, or even personalized items that reflect his understanding of your tastes. You keep every single one of them.

He’s surprisingly a good listener and remembers just about anything you tell him.

Which by the way, this man spoils you.

When it comes to dates, Black Hat goes all out. He arranges extravagant, exclusive events, whether it's a candlelit dinner on a rooftop or a private screening at the manor. 

He once brought you to another dimension to view the downfall of an alien civilization, how romantic!

Black Hat, in his own twisted way, is fiercely protective over you. He might not show it overtly, but anyone who dares to even look at you with disdain will face the Eldrich’s fiery wrath.

Overall, Black Hat is surprisingly a good lover and partner. Your life never seems to be dull with him around, and you're incredulously grateful and honored to be able to see this side of him, even if it's behind closed doors. He has a hard time conveying his feelings and being vulnerable, but you're patient and understanding and eager to help guide him.

He never would have thought love was possible for him until you came along.

[wisheslost]

The white-eye warbles, the camellia blooms.

As a writer of Yae Publishing House, you have to visit the shrine for work purposes quite often— and it is on these shrine visits that you came to be even more acquainted with the yashiro commissioner, of whom you were previously known to only as that writer he had bumped into at the Irodori festival, in his sister's words; the most cliché way possible.

cw : mutual pining, friends/strangers to lovers, fluff, reader gets screamed at but its fine its not by ayato, no use of y/n, reader is technically an oc but is never referred to with a name. pls lmk if I should add more!

a/n : ive been meaning to post this but i kept stalling😭 sorry

wc : 5.4k

Kamisato Ayato is a smart man. The revered head of the Kamisato clan knows all there is to know about what's going on amidst the different commissions in Inazuma, but not a single clue does he have about the feelings you harbour for him, and who knows when he will?

You seldom had the opportunity to go to the shrine, and so, everytime you came down from the shrine, everytime you hurriedly made your way through Chinju forest, you did with the same intention in mind— to see Ayato. It didn't matter if he didn't notice you, just a glimpse of his face made your day better.

One of these very days, Ayato saw you pass, and much to your surprise, invited you in to have tea. In an attempt to be polite, and since you were done with work at the time, you accepted his sweet offer.

And so it continued — each time someone of the estate saw you passing by, they'd invite you in and offer you tea, while you tried your best to decline most of the time, sometimes it was just… not doable. Convincing Thoma was a hard job, but to persuade Miss Furuta to let you go was even more difficult. 

Now, Ayato wasn't always there, sometimes he was out for a meeting or was doing work in his chamber ( the same chamber you found yourself too unimportant to enter, the chamber that felt almost suffocating to you the one time you went in there. ) but even when he was, if he heard of you having came, he'd offer you to tea with the condition that you had to wait till his work was done. You loved his company, so who were you to deny it?

And perhaps that love you had for the time you spent with him turned into the love you had for him. 

You two weren't strangers. No, not at all. You bumped into each other during last year's Irodori festival, and in the most clichesque way ever, all your documents had fallen down, and being the gentleman he was, Ayato helped you pick them up ( obviously !).

Ayato found himself writing you a letter ever so often, and your reply to it that laid there among his official documents was the last to be opened of the day—but not the least, no, it was a way for him to conclude his day positively, or so he had told you. And as you two grew closer, you only found it easier to share your work with him, snippets of something you wrote that you were somewhat proud of , but that didn't make it into the published version of the story, a verse from a poem you gave up on writing, anything you thought he would like— you sent him, and eagerly waited for his reply. 

You'd read him some of your poetry time to time— each time you came by his castle of a house, and each time he simply stared at you until you finished, and would then ask you why you used a certain metaphor to describe a certain thing, to which you'd happily answer, or commend you for having thought of something in such a different way, and at the end, he'd pass a rather funny comment, even if unintentionally, such as one like "I want this framed on my wall." to which you could do nothing but laugh, while he simply gazed at the beauty the sky harboured, seemingly deep in thought. Why he always did that, you did not know, and you could only wonder, what exactly did he think of each time?

Is showing your unpublished work to someone outside the Yae Publishing House breach of contract? No... Well, not exactly. You had agreed to abstaining from showing anyone anything that has to do with your unpublished literary pieces, but you knew the publishing house wasn't ever going to publish the poems you wrote on your own. They would say things like the topic's too vague, the metaphors don't make sense, and that the writing didn't flow, whatever that meant. So, what you wrote for the publishing house was what they demanded from you— quite different than what you actually wrote. Alas, they don’t understand your words when they're not catered to them. But it's fine, Ayato did, and what more could you ask for? 

Actually, if given the chance, you would definitely ask for something more.

Kamisato Ayato understood social cues quite well, or atleast one would think he would, as that was a big part of his duty. So why he couldn't comprehend your feelings for him, was a mystery to you. But I guess understanding if someone likes you or not isn't really something listed in the skillset a Yashiro commissioner requires. 

Now, what he could and couldn't understand was not your problem, and would no longer be, not after you confess your feelings to him. You figured it would be easier to do if you just played it out like one of your usual interactions, and so you wrote a poem. A poem you'd innocently read out to him one of those days you happen to stumble upon his house, and with it, he'd finally understand. Finally understand you liked him. 

Something else popped up. A question much unappreciated. The worst outcome possible. “But what if he didn't like you back?” Well the poem isn't even for him then! It's from the point of view of one of my original characters— yes, that excuse is good enough.

But then the day finally arrived, you were finally there, sitting in Kamisato Estate's courtyard eagerly waiting for Ayato to be done with his meeting that had started just as you came, it was not often Ayato had meetings in his chamber, so it seems you just happened to have bad luck today. Sitting on the cushion, waiting for Ayato to be done, you found yourself making multiple revisions to that poem of yours, and in the middle of that, you were suddenly reminded of the meeting at Yae Publishing House you had this evening, but the thought soon slipped your mind as you thought of another line for the poem.

He had promised it would not take too long, but one hour had gone by just like that, and before you knew it, you were barely keeping awake, you couldn't help it, running on 2 hours of sleep from having worked all night, your mind was starting to shut down. Resting your head on the table was probably the first mistake you made that day— but one could argue there were plenty other mistakes made before that, such as not having slept in the first place. 

You usually came to meet Ayato around the evening, not only because his workload was lighter that time of the day but also because the publishing house's important meetings and discussions of the sort were held most often, if not all the time, early in the day. And that was precisely why you had forgotten about that meeting you had this evening. Was it the two hours of sleep or the anxiety from the whole confession thing? whatever it was, it was just making your day harder and harder.

It had been an hour and a half since you arrived at Kamisato Estate, the hour spent waiting and scribbling, and the half spent peacefully sleeping as no one bothered to wake you up. It wasn't that the staff of the estate couldn't care less about you, in fact, everyone around noticed you having succumbed to slumber. But who dare to awaken you, Clan Head's possible significant other?

It's true that Ayato was unbeknownst to your feelings towards him, but those at Kamisato Estate weren't. It was easy to tell you had a thing for him, much too obvious that every time you saw him in the eye your heart skipped a beat, and practically every one of the estate's staff thought you two were together, and just trying to hide it. To them, the way you looked at Ayato, was the way he looked at you. His, a loving gaze that never lets go of your frame, and a soul that so desperately wants to tell the whole world how much he loves you(— but hell, he couldn't even fathom telling you) and Yours, a stare that quickly tries to focus on something else when noticed by him, a heart too heavy with emotions— emotions that cannot find their way through speech, and are expressed only through words. 

And that serene and loving gaze was the first thing you saw being woken up, because in that whole house, no one except Clan Head himself would have the courage to wake you up. 

It's not until Ayato's voice echoes in your ears accompanied by the faint pitter-patter of the rain that you realise your noses are barely inches away from touching as he knelt down to your level.

“Oh, my writer, it seems you've slept most wonderfully in my absence, and on Thoma's jacket, huh?” his tone had a bit of sneer in it, as if he was jealous of the fact you had used Thoma's jacket as a pillow. And there was that— “my writer”, it stemmed from an inside joke, wherein once when he was transcribing a poem you wrote, you called him ‘my personal calligrapher’ which warranted the “That would make you my writer, hm?” and you knew it was a joke but goodness, he called you that only when people weren't around, and the way he said it everytime, Oh Archons!

But wait— You weren't supposed to be swooning over Ayato right now! You should be at the publishing house, attending that meeting— and so you rose up frantically to leave, apologies leaving your mouth rapidly,

“Lord Commissioner, I'm so sorry but I must go, I had an important work thing and I- I'm sorry! I should hav-'' and that is when you get cut off by Ayato's forefinger upon your lips, if that was an attempt to shush you- it worked. “Just go. I understand.” he said, and the reassurance in his voice and the slight smile on his face brought you right back to your senses.

And so you hurriedly put on your shoes to make a run for it, uttering one final ‘sorry’ to him, much to his dismay. And as you made it out the door of the estate, you heard Ayato's voice calling to you- “Take an umbrella!” to which you could only respond— “I'll be fine! The rain's not that bad!” because right now, saving face at the publishing house was far more important than a few drops on your clothes. 

Except it wasn't a few drops, you had greatly underestimated the power of the Hydro Archon, because by the time you reached the doors of the publishing house, you were completely wet from head to toe— and saving face was no longer present in your dictionary. In fact, you never even wanted to show your face again- and god, how many and who even were the people attending that meeting? because you were going to embarrass yourself in front of all of them right now.

The second you entered that room where the meeting was going on, as if your bad luck wasn't bad enough, you saw a figure too striking, bright pink hair.. fox ears.. and those eyes, those eyes that didn't take even a full two seconds to notice your presence and announce it to the whole room.

“Oh, look who's here! did the Yashiro Commission- er, reject you, my dear? or did you finally realise where your priorities should lie?” and right after she had said that, you could feel that theories about you and the commissioner had already began floating in the air of that room— whispers of a mixture of words like yashiro commissioner, head of the kamisato clan could be heard, and among them was that name a bit too familiar- Kamisato Ayato. How she knew about your yashiro commission shenanigans, you had no idea, but you weren't about to question her— Guuji Yae was no god, but people were convinced she definitely was omniscient, the way she never lacked information about the people she worked with. 

You could swear on your life that the stutter after the words ‘yashiro commission’ was done on purpose, and you'd live. What she was trying to imply wasn't too obvious, in fact, the way she said it, it could easily be interpreted as something entirely different— but what was also true, only it wasn't something you were comfortable with everyone in that room knowing. You couldn't manage to respond to that, ‘tleast not in a way that would allow you to keep your job. And so Guuji Yae's lips spoke again, this time out of pity for you. 

“But hey, better late than never.” she said, gesturing for you to come sit next to her. 

And so the meeting went on like normal. You were trembling terribly from the cold, dripping wet still but there wasn't anything you could do about it, and as the guy sitting next to you took notice of that and offered you his jacket, you could feel watchful eyes throughout the room landing upon you two, waiting for your response. With the amount of writers present in this room, you knew this interaction was making its way into a light novel soon. Thinking of a response was hard, accepting it would give birth to more conspiracies, but not accepting it would blatantly prove Guuji Yae's previous comment about the yashiro commissioner right. And before you could think of a response to that awfully nice gesture, you were snapped out of your thoughts by your editor, who was currently explaining something on a whiteboard, something you failed to understand because of the preoccupations your mind currently had. “(Name), are you even paying attention !?” were his words, and as if enough people weren't already staring at you, now the whole room was. A nervously spoken ‘sorry’ was all you could let out, and it wasn't even a proper answer to his question. 

The meeting dragged on for another 15 minutes— 15 dreadful, cold minutes. And when it was finally over and people were getting out of their seats and as if your luck wasn't already the worst, it only got worse-r as your editor called out to you right as you got up, “Not you. I still have to talk to you.”  Did he not see you shivering? Looking like a sopping wet cat? Did he not have an ounce of sympathy? 

As everyone else exited the room, you were forced to sit until who knows when. Guuji Yae was the last to leave, and before she stepped out the room, she called the editor over to speak to him, uttering something along the lines of what you thought was “Go easy on the poor thing, ok?” and was that poor thing in question you? most likely, yes. And good for that— he shouldn't think to disobey the owner of this whole establishment right? 

But he did. Or atleast, the words that followed after she left did not seem like him ‘going easy on you’ at all. 

The way he had his arms on the desk, the way his figure loomed over yours, that expression on his face… oh, you were about to be scolded big time.

“You, tell me. What exactly is your problem?” 

“I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again, I apologise.” You couldn't even make eye contact with him as you spoke, and while your attempt at an apology was well delivered, it was terribly timed. 

“If you were so fucking sorry as you claim to be, tell me, what the hell has been bothering you so damn much to arrive late to an important meeting when i had reminded you so many times the previous day!?” 

Oh. That was a first— never before had you heard him swear like this, and you're pretty sure it probably falls under top 10 things you shouldn't do if you don't want to lose your job, but who were you to say? your job was being held together by a single thread made of miracles. 

“I'm really sorry sir, it was just something personal- I can guarantee you, it won't ever happen again.” Ah yes, the infamous personal issue: the inability to manage a schedule.

“Did someone pass away?”

“..No.”

“Someone fall gravely ill?”

“..No”

“Family issues?”

“No-”

“Then WHAT the hell’s been bothering so much you show up late to a meeting with GUUJI YAE? Do you seriously not understand how fucking embarrassing it is? For the writer I had to practically beg for the higher-ups to not fire even though you kept being late and crossing deadlines, to show up late again?” He had yanked you out of your seat with his right hand midway through his speech out of the anger he possessed as of current, becoming physical when angry wasn't uncommon, but for someone who you always saw as calm and cool, for someone who always put up with you no matter what, the breaking point had arrived, and it was wholly your fault. 

But you understood. Understood the reasons behind his furious reaction, for he was right, it was truly embarrassing, because that thread made out of miracles that was holding your job in place wasn't made out of miracles at all— it was made out of your editor's continued efforts to keep you in this organisation. 

When you didn't, well, more like couldn't respond to him, and he realised the outburst he had just made, he let go of your upper arm, and his hand went back to the desk with his other arm, and as he regained his senses, looking down at the desk realising what he just did, he tried to apologise-

“I didn't mean to-”

“I-it's fine. You don't have to say anything.” Cutting him off was usually not something you would do, but at this moment, it felt right.

“I'm sorry, Please leave. And please, please don't tell anyone about this.” You could see the regret in his face as he sat down on his chair, head in hands refusing to make eye contact with you and instead choosing to stare at the hardwood floor instead, and you knew if anyone found out about this you both would be kicked out the publishing house together.

“I won't. Good night, sir.” and as you exited that room, you could hear a faint “good night” from your editor, who was too ashamed to even speak any louder. 

And as you left, you failed to notice the bright pink figure of the Guuji beside the entrance of the conference room, who had eavesdropped on that entire conversation.

________

It had been 11 days since then. 11 days of Ayato wondering whatever it was that you wanted to tell him that day, hoping you would at least write him a letter. But no letter came, and neither did you. 

While the Kamisato's days went by quite peacefully and ordinarily, yours were much, much different. 

Back at Yae Publishing House that day, the Guuji held your editor back to tell him to get you to write some sort of romance novel around this plot– A careless writer who has amazing skill in writing, but barely manages to keep her job due to the troubles caused by her family, and her editor who has to beg the higher-ups to let her keep her job, who's also hopelessly in love with her.

While the plot is good, you weren't too happy having it recommended to you in that way. Does the Guuji think you have romantic feelings for your editor? or is it vice versa ? 

Whatever it is that the Guuji thought, it didn't matter right now, because she demanded the first volume of the comic book that was about to be serialised be done in 15 days. With 11 days already gone by, and everything done on your part, you finally had some leisure time to enjoy, leisure time you were spending laying on the floor in front of the fan sipping cold lavender melon juice peacefully, almost on your way to dreamland.

That is, until you heard a knock on your door. When you went to open it, no one was there, or so you had thought, not having noticed the little kid dressed like a mujina at your doorstep at first, looking sleepy as ever.

“Oh, hello! What is it that brings you here to my doorstep, little one ?” as you bent down to greet the sleepy child, you felt a muscle in your back ache. Ah, the consequences of having the worst sleeping posture known to man.

“I'm not ‘little one’. My name is Sayu. I'm from the shuumatsuban, and Mr. Yashiro Commissioner sent me to relay an important message to you.” as she finishes her sentence, she hands you a little paper from her back pocket that says “I have something important to speak to you about. Come meet me.  -your personal calligrapher” 

 Oh. You're done.

What could it possibly be about !? What could Kamisato Ayato, Clan head of the Kamisato Clan and the Yashiro Commissioner have to talk about that would be important to you !? Whatever it was, it was scaring you. 

“Do I have to go right now?” as nervous as you were, you were also curious, what the hell was this man upto? and actually, was he even upto something, or was this just something to get you to come to the estate as quickly as possible?

“Yes, that's what he said anyway.” as she said this, Sayu sounded so, so done with you and Ayato that you couldn't really do anything. It seemed like if you didn't go right now, as soon as possible, Sayu would fall asleep right on your doorstep. 

“Alright, then, let us leave. But wait- just one thing-” and so, you went to your bedside table to pick up that diary you always took to Kamisato Estate, the one you wrote that damnee confession in- but, it wasn't there? surely you placed it somewhere else when under the influence of fatigue and forgot.. Well, with Sayu's patience running thinner- you should probably just leave finding that diary to your future self.

Sayu was not at all interested in whatever it was that went on between you and Ayato, she kept quiet the whole way from your house to the Kamisato Estate, except for a yawn or two in the middle.  

Your attempt at distracting yourself from whatever it was that Ayato wanted to talk to you about by looking at the flowers and the trees as you made your way to the estate was not quite successful.. for as the dew drops fell off from the roses, you could feel yourself perspire as well.

When you finally stepped foot in Kamisato Estate, you saw him, Kamisato Ayato, simply leaning on his balcony ledge gazing at the horizon, unaware of your resence and all he made you feel. You were quite sure this amount of sweating could submerge Jinren Island. 

Jinren Island being submerged aside, no one was there at the estate except Ayato. Miss Furuta wasn't standing at her usual place, Koharu wasn't busy cleaning something that doesn't even look like it needs cleaning, and even Mr. Madarame was nowhere to be seen.

As you were busy analyzing the current state of the ground you were standing on, Sayu's voice spoke—

“Mr. Yashiro Commissioner, I brought them.” 

Ayato turned around, his eyes finally meeting yours after what seemed to be an eternity to him. 

“Oh, thank you Sayu. You may go now.”

As the man came to sit down, he signaled you to sit near him as well, contrary to how you would usually sit, on the opposite side of the table. “Sit here, you sure look like you need to.” his voice beamed, and you could feel your heart burst into eight thousand pieces upon hearing him talk to you again. 

While you were most delighted to finally talk to him again, you couldn't help but wonder where the staff went, therefore naturally, you asked him as he poured his tea from the kettle into his little cup,

“So… where's all the staff gone?” 

“Disappointed no one's here to give you free snacks, huh? Don't worry, I'm quite generous when it comes to my food, Here, want a sip?” and as his sentence came to an end, he offered you a cup of tea by raising it to your lips, which you pushed away as politely as you could. “You know I don’t drink tea, right? You asking me multiple times isn't going to change that..”

“Well, it was worth a try.”

“But seriously, where are all the staff? in all my days spent procrastinating here, I've never seen it so empty..” 

“I told them to take a break as I was going to have an important person over to discuss some very important, urgent matters, and for that discussion, I need some privacy.”

“But then why not have the meeting in your chamber? Enough privacy there, no?”

“Of course, of course, but you see, this client of mine, they think my chamber is really stuffy and feels suffocating. So naturally, I decided to have said meeting here.”

“Oh, so uhm, when is this meeting of yours? considering the staff are already gone..It must be soon, yes?”

“Oh yes, yes.. Infact, for the staff, the meeting has already started.”

“Wait.. Am I..?”

“Go on, you're almost there.”

“Jackass, I'm the ‘super important’ person you were meeting, huh?”

“See, this is exactly why this meeting is being held. The way you address me, the way you talk to me.. it's not exactly the usual way I'm addressed.. Not even my friends behave this way with me.”

“You have friends?”

“Of course I- See ! that's my point, you talk so nonchalantly to me, what do you think people would think of you as when they see you acting like this in public ?”

“Disrespectful? Discourteous? Rude? Impolite? Ill-mannered?”

“My beautiful Oxford dictionary, that's not what I meant. Don't you think people would look at us joking around and think of us as lovers ?” 

As soon as you heard that “beautiful”, oh goodness, you were done for. you had fallen so deep in love with this man it was beyond any find and rescue team to help you. you couldn't make an answer to that statement, no, you were busy in dreamland wondering if all these people at the estate saw you and Ayato talk to each other and thought, “oh, these two definitely have something going on.” 

Snap. one snap of his fingers in front of your face, and you were thrown right back into reality. 

“So?”

“Uhm, we don't go out much, actually, we've never gone out together, so that's not a problem as far as I'm concerned.”

“The way you say it.. it's almost like you're mad we never go out.”

“Well, we don't. I've never even stepped foot on the east side of the estate.. let alone go anywhere with you.”

“Hm? Let's go there then.” near the end of his sentence, he placed his teacup down and got up, walking to the same place he was standing before you came here, and so you followed. 

As he leaned on the ledge of the balcony, his body facing the horizon, he looked at you, hands crossed, yours facing him. 

“So? What do you think, are we qualified to go out now?” he spoke, turning towards you, and as he turned, he looked up at something and then smirked, his eyes returning to you. Goodness, he looked so hot— but wait, what was he staring at? before you could fully turn your head to face behind you, his left arm quickly got hold of the side of your neck that you were about to turn, “Why are you-”

“Answer my question first.” throughout this exchange, his hand was still there on your neck holding it from turning around.

“Yes, we can go out together, but what the hell is behind me that you don't want me to see?”

Leaning in towards your ear, he spoke. And to say his lips were one breath away from touching your temple is an understatement. “You remember the thing i told you about the staff, right? Well, they've all gathered near the first window of the second floor, and are currently looking at us, waiting for something to happen.” while he said all this, he was staring daggers into Thoma's soul, who, being the one who accidentally spread the rumour that Ayato was going to confess his feelings for you today, was awkwardly smiling at the slightly pissed off clan head, whose confession of love was about to turn into a source of entertainment for his staff, and of course, something to tease him about later for his sister, also present with the staff. Finishing his sentence, he finally pulled away from you. 

“But.. waiting for what to happen..?” trying to get the butterflies in your stomach to calm down from what just happened, you focused back on the conversation. 

“Waiting for me to confess.”

 Stop the clock. He didn't mean confess his love, did he? Surely there's no way.

“C-confess what!?” 

“That- ah, I can't believe I'm saying this in such an ordinary way, but listen, I'm not a man of poetry, or atleast, writing it. I tried to, believe me, but it just looked so awkward to me, nothing compared to what you wrote for me in your diary-”

“YOU READ THAT POEM?”

Ayato put his hands on your shoulders, and in an attempt to calm you down, spoke forth. 

“Hey now! Let's calm down, alright? I didn't read anything beyond the 9th line because Ayaka snatched it away from me, so please, don’t be mad. I should have realised I was in no place to open someone else's very personal diary, and I don't even know if that poem was meant for me, but I just-”

“No.. Ayato, you're.. You're too sweet. I'm sure you had no ill intentions, I only freaked out because it was so surprising, and since it was indeed meant for you. And you can read the whole poem afterwards, but for now, please, please go on about what you were telling me.”

“I can't just go on like this, not after you've told me you wrote about me- Me, of all people! Me, after you've written about the sun, the seas, the sky, the surreal- after all that, you wrote about me. And so beautifully, too, I can't go on, not with my life, not with whatever it was I originally wanted to say.” his expression was one you had never seen before, so full of innocence, he looked like a wet puppy in the rain, like he'd die of a cold if you didn't shelter him right away, and you could swear you saw tears welling up in his eyes, and all this because you wrote about him, all this because his feelings were returned, all this because he finally felt loved. 

You couldn't even respond, hell, you couldn't even choke back tears, and so as you were processing his words, you wrapped your arms around his torso and went in to hug him, sobbing into his chest. He returned the hug, one arm around your shoulders, and one running over your head, a tear dropping on your head as he did.

When you both pulled away from the hug, it was just laughter and wiping away each others’ tears, until you both were staring at each other fondly. And then Ayaka's voice could be heard from the back— “I told you they wouldn't kiss!” followed by a subdued Thoma, “my mora..”

“You know we can hear, right? And betting on my love life? Seriously?” As Ayato turned to reply to his sister, the staff scurried away, not wanting to be noticed by him, and as amused as you were, you didn't join in on the conversation, instead choosing to pull Ayato's collar towards yourself and pulling his lips onto yours. Before Ayaka could respond, Ayato leaned in to the kiss, cupping your face with his hands, and you could feel him smirk a bit.

He chuckled while pulling away from you, turning to a very surprised Ayaka and Thoma, mouths open in bewilderment,

“So... I guess Thoma wins?”

[abyssal-werewolf]

Fluid kintypes - identity doesn't need to be static

I used to be a wolf, once. Not in a past-life sense, but in a therian sense - I was a wolf therian and then I wasn't. Sounds weird to you? I'm not surprised!

Something that I have repeatedly been told by other therians and otherkin is "you are what you are and if you find out you are something else - well, then you never were the first thing at all." Especially when I joined the community several years ago, I saw this statement everywhere. But let me tell you: it's not true. I had several different kintypes over the years (side note: we are plural and for the sake of this post I am simplifying some internal structure things. if you want the complicated details, feel free to ask! /gen), started as a wolf therian, then I was a cryptid, a dinosaur, a dragon and some kind of monster. Now I am Khhanivore (from Love, Death and Robots) and Mewtu (from Pokemon, Mewtu is the German spelling) - and a raptor kintype is coming back. (I am also a werewolf, but that's not a kintype, that's just Purely Me And My Whole Essence)

"Okay Istasha, but isn't that just questioning or maybe flickertypes?", you might ask. Fair point, but no.

I honestly never really questioned my kintypes - if I truly question something, it turns out to either be a hearttype or Nothing at All. As for kintypes, I just know - all of us just know what we are, it's like chilling and one day, suddenly, one of us is like "oh, I am a horse. alright, carry on" and that's it. Our kintypes stay with us for several months at least, theoretically they could stay forever but tend to change along the way - which brings me to the next point. They aren't flickertypes either. We only really get fictionflickers and sometimes animalflickers and those are extremely short and always tied to media we are currently consuming - they feel, technically, like kintypes to me. For example, if I watch a lot of Supernatural, I sometimes get an intense feeling of belonging there, of being a non-canon character, of being part of the story, etc. I am this non-canon character in that moment, I might even get pseudo-memories or shifts, but as soon as I don't engage with that show too much again, it instantly fades.

Our kintypes don't work like that. Take my re-emerging dinosaur kintype as an example. I was walking somewhere a few days ago and suddenly had a pahntom sensation in my legs and feet and in the same moment I knew "ah shit, new kintype". I gave it a day because maaayyybe it's nothing? But deep down I already knew what was going on, so I have an Utahraptor kintype now. I am this. I identify as this through and through and it feels like I've always been this way. But it wasn't - a week ago I wasn't a dinosaur and now I am. I did not choose it, I did not engage with any dinosaur media at all, it just happened.

My kintypes have always been changing and trust me when I say I had a complete identity crisis when my wolf kintype first went away. But over the years Ive learned to accepot it - my identy is not static, it never was and it never will be and that's okay!

It doesn't make my kintypes less important or less real and it also doesn't mean I never was a wolf. I was. And then I wasn't.

I honestly think it is so, so damaging to still have this "kintypes are static"-sentient floating around in the community, because that's simply not true for all of us. For me, it honestly even makes more sense this way. Our brain has always been unstable, I lacked a true identity for so long. We grew up with untreated BPD andf although the symptoms are 95% under my control now (read: it's in remission), our brain still has a ton of habits from that time, like clinging onto different things to try and form an identity, to try and fill the void where a person should be. And the fact that the void is filled now, that I finally am enough of a person to fill it, this habit never changed. Our brain still randomly grabs things and makes them one of us, leading to fluid kintypes.

Let me end this with saying: being wrong about a kintype is fine. Figuring out you are X instaed of Y and never were Y is fine. But it is also fine to be X today and Y tomorrow.

I think I've said this before but I'll say it again: we, as a community, need to take our identities less and more serious at the same time. Let's stop the gatekeeping and policing others, let's stop overanalyzing ourselves so much. Let's stop looking for rules and asking "is it possible to be this?" over and over again - because the answer is yes. There are literally no rules as to how, why and what you can be. In order to be otherkin you need to do exactly one thing: identify as The Thing in question. Nothing else. On the other hand, we need to kindly educate those who confuse identify as and identify with, we need to kindly educate young therians who "choose their theriotypes", we need to make sure we are not watered down to being "a fun thing you can do".

I sometimes feel like the focus and effort of this community is in good faith but in the wrong place - static kintypes is one of them.

There are no limits. Be who you are today and if you are something else tomorrow, be that then. <3

[lunajay33]

A Part of Me

•🦇🪽🖤•

Summary: Reader is Rhysands sister, when Feyre comes to live within the night court Tamlin takes reader and shreds her wings, thankfully Cassian finds her in time but will she be able to come back from that? Will Cassian drag her out of that darkness?

Pairing: Cassian x f!reader

Warning: Depression, Anxiety, Bad self image

•Masterlist•

My life was fun, I had an amazing big brother who ruled over the Night court, my home, and I had my best friends, Cassian and Azriel, plus Mor, everything was nice in our little family we always went out together, spent nights in for suppers but when Rhys got trapped under the mountain it became difficult for us all knowing there was nothing we could do to save him, but then my sister in law came and saved him in more ways than one, at first she didn’t get the charm Rhys has but she came around and realized they were mates and tonight we were celebrating that

As I walked along the streets of Velaris looking for a mating present for them I felt a hand grip my wrist and drag me into an alley, quickly I’m knocked out and the world is black

Opening my eyes the lights are so bright and my head is pounding, looking around groggily I notice I’m strapped down to a table face down

“What’s going on” I groaned

“I couldn’t get Rhys but you’re the next best thing” I knew that voice….Tamlin

“Please I didn’t do anything to you” I knew of his temper and with what happened with tamlin Rhys and Feyre he was definitely gonna take it all out on me

“None of you from the night court are innocent, now you’re going to have the same fate as you’re mother and sister” my chest felt heavy scared I’ll never see Rhys again, scared they’ll never find me, scared…..I’ll never get to tell Cassian just how much he really means to me

Tamlin takes his time shredding my wings slowly so I feel ever bit of pain, and the pain is so much more because it’s my precious wings, they gave me so much freedom and now they’ll never be the same again….if I live to escape

After hours of torture I hear the door being busted down behind me faintly as I was fading in and out of consciousness, a fight broke out and then silence, all I could hear is the blood pumping in my ears and the constant ache that riddled me

But then he touched me, that gentle touch I could recognize anywhere, Cassian

His hand grazed my shoulder as he turned my face towards him, he was blurry and my eyelids felt so heavy

“Oh my Angel what has he done to you” I opened my mouth to try and speak but nothing came out, he gently picked me up and in an instant I felt the comforting chill of the night Court

I sigh out in relief knowing I’m safe now and back home

“RHYS IVE GOT HER CALL MADJA” he yelled jolting me back from fainting

I heard multiple voices around me but they were becoming faint again, like they were far away

“Cas……” I finally managed to groan as he laid me face down on the bed

“What can I do?” He asked squeezing my hand

“I……..I can’t feel my wings” he gave me the saddest look I’ve ever seen before and I knew in that instant I’d never fly again

•

I woke up to the moonlight shining through my window, the window cracked open like I liked so I could feel the cool breeze, I tried to sit up and even though it was agonizing I didn’t wanna be lying down like before I wanted to feel like I had control

I walked to my mirror sucking in a deep breath as I turned seeing my wings completely bandaged but I could tell where pieces were missing

What’ll people think of me now? I’m the Night Court leaders sister, what will they think of me knowing I’m two week to protect myself and get myself in this situation, will they stare at my useless and ripped wings, will they think I’m hideous, will my own family and friends think all that

My heart felt like led in my chest, my stomach turning with anxiety, but atleast I’m alive right…..right?

I dragged my feet through the hall till I made it to the kitchen needing something….anything to just distract me maybe even make me feel something

“Hey what’re you doing up you should be resting in bed” I heard Cassian say getting up from the couch as he approached me

“I’m fine” I sigh as I open the freezer and painfully pull out the ice cream, not realizing how my back muscles I use until now that they’re damaged, the ache still remained but Madi’s must’ve really worked hard or else I would’ve been immobile

“No you’re not angel, and that’s okay, here let me get it for you” I nod as he helps me sit down on the couch and lighting up the fire place

Coming back again with a huge bowl of ice cream, sitting across from me

“How’re you feeling?” He asked as he reassuringly rubbed my thigh

“It hurts……inside too” he squeezed my leg comfortingly

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, the minute I felt you weren’t in this court I knew something was wrong……then I heard you”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing im just glad i found you in time, that bastard will get it from Rhys”

“Found me in time? Cassian I’m hideous” I cried as I scooped a mouthful of ice cream sounding like a blubbering mess

“What’re you talking about, you’re still as beautiful as the day I met you” he was never this affectionate with me, sure he liked to flirt but this was meaningful

“But my wings…..”

“Are still beautiful angel, even if they are ripped and scared they’re still a part of you and I’ll show you everyday how beautiful every part of you are” he says brushing my hair back and wiping off some ice cream around my mouth

“Whyre you being so sweet to me” I cried harder at his words

“Because……because I love you and seeing you like that on the table showed me I can’t wait anymore, you’re mine and I’ve known since we were young”

That’s when I felt my chest pull towards his, my mate

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to want me because of the bond, I wanted you for me and all my glory” he says making us both laugh

“I’ve loved you for a long time Cass, how about you take me back to bed because I’m in a world of pain and we can tell the others tomorrow”

“I’d love nothing more my beautiful angel”

He’s my warrior, my saviour, my mate

[getasbf]

OMGGG IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS the lack of geta x male reader (and gn reader let’s be honest…) is killing me aouuu

would you possibly write for a geta x childhood friend reader? Like they could be chilling then one of them is like “wait…I have feelings for him??” And then shenanigans ensue. Idk you could add plot and stuff I’m just spitballing lol. Feel free to change stuff around cuz honestly I’ll take anything!! 🩷

Whispers of Eternity | Emperor Geta x male!reader

Pairing: Emperor Geta x male!reader [childhood friends]

Summary: You discover that the meaning of love was always in front of you and you were just too confused about how to categorize it.

Notes: I’VE BEEN WAITING THIS MOMENTO TOO. My first OS in, actually, YEARS, i wish it’s not that bad. English is not my firts language. Fluff, fluff, fluff. Reader can be Acacius lil brother if you want, that information is not that deep or important. No content warning.

Word count: 1.3k

Love. One word, four syllables. The meaning can vary greatly, it all depends on the person, the type of relationship, the past and present with the person.

You always felt all the word, except in one specific area: romantic. It wasn't something that bothered you, nor did it matter much to you. You had your best friend and that was the only thing that mattered to you. But you grew up and understood that what you had felt for your best friend all your life was not friendship.

You felt true friendship whenever you saw his brother: Caracalla. When you played together you always had a good time with him, without any kind of upset in your stomach. Something that always happened to you when you were with Geta.

You could say that he stole your heart instantly since you met when you both were kids.

Right now you were watching him, you were sitting on some stairs out of sight of anyone, with the little privacy that being in a palace could give you.

He had his elbows resting on his knees, talking about something while looking ahead, feeling somewhat animated. You, on the other hand, had your elbows resting on the staircase and had your gaze fixed on him.

You carefully observed the way his lips moved, the small gestures he made with his hands to give a little emphasis to his explanation.

He realized that you were not answering his questions and he turned slightly annoyed for not getting your answer, he thought you were ignoring him. Your eyes met and stayed there for seconds, but it seemed like hours, even days.

"Why don't you answer me?" He spoke, staring at you.

God, how could you never notice the way his eyes looked at you was so unique? It made your heart skip a beat, creating a tickling sensation around your entire stomach and rising up to your chest.

“I like you.” The words slid off your tongue sweetly and reached his ears in the form of a melody. One he wanted to hear for the rest of his days.

They stayed silent, neither of them saying anything and their gazes never leaving each other’s. It felt like being in hell and heaven at the same time. It felt like being alive.

“I like you too.” The corner of his lips curved into a small smile, just as your expression lightened, causing the tension that neither of you knew had been there to go away.

Everything felt lighter now, and being alone felt more intimate than ever before.

☆

The two of you walked through the palace at a fast pace, giggling here and there. Holding hands and hiding, so that no one would see you. You came to a small intersection where there were three possible hallways. You both shared a look and Geta quickly yanked your hand away to start running again, this time to his chambers.

When you reached his chambers, you two abruptly lay down on Geta's bed and began to laugh uncontrollably. The laughter echoed off the walls, but it didn't matter. At that moment, the outside world seemed as distant as the stars.

Lying next to each other, you tried to calm your breathing as your eyes went to the ceiling, although you couldn't help but look away from it and look at Geta. He had his eyes closed, with a peaceful expression that he rarely showed in public. In the palace, he always carried the burden of being watched, analyzed, and judged, but here, in the privacy of his room, he seemed different. More human. More... yours.

He turned to you suddenly, catching you staring again. He smiled mischievously, that smile that seemed made to disarm you.

"What?" he asked softly, though his eyes shone with more than just curiosity.

"It's just..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. You didn't know how to express what you felt without making it seem insignificant or exaggerated.

He waited, his hand reaching for yours, intertwining your fingers naturally. That action gave you the courage to continue.

"It's just... being here with you feels good. More than good, actually. It's like everything else fades away, like nothing else matters."

"I'm afraid of growing up and having to be apart. I don't want to follow Father's wishes. I hate that he forces me to be a general like my brother…"

Geta didn't say anything at first, he just stared at you, with a mix of tenderness and something that seemed like pride. "You're really bad at keeping things to yourself, you know? But that's something I like about you. You've always been honest with me."

His thumb began to trace slow circles over the back of your hand, and although his gesture was gentle, you felt it light a fire inside you.

"I'll always be honest with you, Geta," you promised quietly.

He nodded, as if that statement was enough to sustain everything you were secretly building. Then, unexpectedly, he moved closer, his lips brushing yours so gently that you almost wondered if it had been real.

But there was no doubt. It had been real. His kiss, brief and full of promise, was enough to make you forget the entire world.

"Promise me something," he whispered, barely pulling away enough to speak.

"Anything."

"No matter what happens out there..." Geta nodded, indicating the doors that separated his world from the others, "we'll always be together in here."

You stared at him, your heart beating so hard it almost hurt. "I promise."

That moment was etched in your memory like a silent pact, an alliance that no palace intrigue could break.

From then on, laughter, furtive touches, and stolen kisses became your refuge, a spark of love that burned brighter in the shadows of power.

☆

The years passed, and although life in the palace was not easy, your bond remained. There were moments of tension, danger, doubt, but you always returned to each other, as if gravity itself united you.

Geta and his brother ascended to the throne, carrying the responsibilities of an empire on their shoulders, and you were at their side. Though, to be honest, you were always more at Geta's side, not as an official advisor, but as the invisible pillar that held him up in the moments of greatest uncertainty. In public, you were close allies; in private, you were two souls intertwined, sharing a love that neither power nor time could erode.

One night, in one of those strange moments when you could be alone, you found each other in the palace gardens. The stars shone brightly above you, and the air carried with it the scent of night flowers. The night was perfect, one where the wind blew just to make the landscape more beautiful. Geta took your hand, just like he did when you were teenagers, and looked at you with the same intensity as the first time you confessed your feelings.

"If I were born again," he said quietly, "I would look for you in any life, anywhere. It will always be you."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling your chest fill with warmth. "And I will find you, no matter how many times it takes."

The two of you drew closer, sealing your promise with a kiss beneath the endless sky. It was a love that had begun with furtive giggles and shy glances in your teens, and had now grown into an eternal bond, something that no emperor, enemy, or fate could break.

Geta was so much more than an emperor, and you were so much more than his lover. You were proof that even in a world ruled by power and politics, true love could flourish and endure.

Together, you faced life's challenges, knowing that as long as you had each other, there was no battle you couldn't win.

[intheemptymirror]

small !

minjae x fem!reader

summary: unfortunately (or maybe not), teasing minjae for his short height (and other such things) has consequences

genre: smut (mdni)

warnings: mean-dom!minjae (honestly he was gonna be meaner but that didn’t end up happening somehow), porn with practically no plot, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, big dick minjae, rough sex, unprotected sex (do not do this), he grabs the readers face and taps it lightly but it’s not a full on hit or anything, overstimulation, minjae is a bit sensitive about being called small aka: has a man’s ego (but it’s ok because he’s hot), mentions of other people being able to hear y’all goin at it, degradation, praise, minjae calls you good girl + slut + baby + baby girl, maybe slight dub-con?? (mentions of him “making it fit” pretty much + reader begs minjae to stop but he keeps going), dacryphilia, creampie, reader is suggested to be around the same height as minjae maybe like an inch smaller at most

a/n: guys i’m so sorry for dropping off the face of the earth for like a month 😭 idk what happened also i swear im almost done with that jay fic it’ll come out right after this one i just haven’t been super satisfied with it so ive been putting it off 😖 but it’ll be out soon! also for the people who’ve sent in requests, don’t worry ive gotten them im just taking a while doing them im so sorry 😭 anyways this fic idea has been in my head for like a month and tonight i went a bit crazy and wrote it all lol but i feel like i lowkey rushed it so it’s not as good as it could be either way i hope you guys enjoy it

it was all just meant to be a joke. a meaningless little comment. something you all would laugh about and then move on from.

minjae didn’t seem to share the same sentiment.

it started out as a normal hangout between you and your friends. everybody was having fun, the conversation was entertaining, and it was a good time all around. somehow along the way, the conversation had turned to your guys’ sexual experiences (or lack-there-of for some).when the topic inevitably made it’s way over to minjae, you thought it would be funny to make a comment about his… size.

“i mean, i know those extra inches didn’t go anywhere else.” was all you had said. and it’s not like you actually knew whether he was small or not— you’ve never seen it first hand after all— but the other boys seemed to find it funny nonetheless if the way yechan and seeun nearly fell off the couch was anything to go off of. even minjae laughed! you mean, sure his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek the way it always does when he’s annoyed, but you really thought he wasn’t all that bothered by it!

you thought you’d all be able to move on and that’d be that, but when you announced to the group you had to go to the bathroom a few minutes later you hadn’t expected minjae to be following right behind you.

you padded down the hall to the bathroom and turned to shut the door behind you, but minjae had barged through the open space before you could. you stumbled back in surprise at the sudden intrusion as minjae slammed the door shut and locked it behind him. you were still in shock from his sudden forced entry that all you could do was stand there with wide eyes, an open mouth, and your hands hovering in the air as you watched.

minjae stared intently at the door as if trying to burn through it with his eyes while his shoulders rose and fell with deep breaths he took through his nose as his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his blunt nails digging into his palms. the air was suddenly tense and heavy, anger radiating off of minjae’s body. your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find the words to ask him what in the world he thought he was doing before he slowly turned around to face you. his darkened eyes and tense smirk shut you up real fast.

“what was that?” he spit out.

“w—what was what?” you stuttered out with a nervous laugh; a small attempt at soothing the suddenly thick air. he straightened up at your words, stalking towards you with narrowed eyes and you suddenly felt small and exposed under his intense gaze. you stumble backwards as you try to keep some space between you two until your back hits the bathroom wall. you pat around the wall and glance behind you as if doing so would open up some secret passage way you could use to get away from minjae’s wrath. “you mean the size comment?”

minjae comes to a stop right in front of you, leaning his face towards yours until you can feel his warm breath against your face. “so you do know what i was talking about.”

“i—it was just a joke! you seriously can’t be mad about that can you? maybe you’re just mad because i told the truth!” those last words were out like word vomit, escaping your lips before your brain could keep up and tell you to stop. your eyes widened at your own sentence as you inhaled sharply and shakily, your lips wobbling slightly out of fear before you purse your lips to stop from digging a bigger hole for yourself.

his face fell and minjae didn’t say anything for a moment, his silence being almost scarier than if he did say something. it was silent… and then his lips curled into a smirk as his hand reached out to take your wrist in his hold.

“oh yeah? since i’m so small you shouldn’t have any problems helping me out, hmm?” he tugged on your wrist, stumbling you forward into his body. he pressed your hand onto the very apparent, growing bulge in his jeans, your eyes snapping down to look at it before looking back up at minjae only to find his intense gaze completely locked onto your flustered face. you swallowed harshly as you tried to speak, the only noises coming from your lips being small squeaks and shaky exhales. “hm?” minjae taunted, pressing your hand into his bulge a tad harder, the pressure sending a shudder up his spine as his eyes flutter and a soft moan leaves his lips at the sensation.

your fingers twitch against his length when his moan hits your ears, the noise sending a wave of heat through your lower stomach and has your cunt clenching around nothing. it snaps you right out of your daze as you finally muster up the strength to tug your hand from minjae’s grip and away from his dick. “we shouldn’t— you— the others are still outside, i don’t think—“ as you stutter through half-assed excuses, he steps forward to press you against the wall, trapping you between the wall and his sturdy chest.

“i’m not hearing you say you don’t want it,” he says lowly, his breath fanning against your face as the deep timbre of his voice rumbles through your whole body. “you’re saying the others are outside, you’re saying i shouldn’t, but i’m not hearing you say you don’t want it.” he brings his hand up to brush the back of his fingers against your cheek gently. “tell me you don’t want it and i’ll walk away from you right now.”

your words get caught in your throat, and before you even realize it your eyes are drifting down to minjae’s lips before darting back up to his eyes. minjae takes this as his cue, harshly pressing his lips against yours as he slams you back against the wall, one hand coming to your waist to pin you there while the other comes up to your face to tilt your head up for him. your hands fly up to grip his shoulders and tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck in an attempt to ground yourself from the sudden and intense attention minjae was giving you.

a soft moan escapes your lips when minjae prods at your tongue with his, the soft noise unlocking something primal from within him as he takes the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue while pressing his lips against yours with more fervor. his hand on your waist slides down to slip his hand under the hem of your shirt. his warm fingers sends a chill up your spine, your back arching into his body for more.

“wait, minjae— mph!— the others—“ you try to speak up between kisses but minjae seems hellbent on keeping your mouth shut, practically devouring you as he keeps kissing your lips without a care in the world.

“don’t care.” is all he mumbles when he finally pulls his lips off yours, his eyes half-lidded and lips swollen while his hair is messy and tangled from your hand running through it repeatedly. he looks hot. he doesn’t give you much longer to admire him though before he’s leaning back in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips and trailing down your jaw to the soft skin of your neck. “they can watch for all i care. maybe then they won’t find it so funny…” his voice trails off, seemingly still peeved from your comment from earlier.

minjae’s lips start their assault on the previously clean skin of your neck, his teeth joining shortly after. you tense up at the sharp feeling before you relax into it, pleasure seeping into the pain. you grip onto his shoulders and you tilt your head back to give him more access as soft whines leave your lips with every suck and bite to your skin. “that’s it, baby. just let me have you.” he mumbles, his voice vibrating through your skin and sending a shiver up your spine.

“more,” you whine out as he trails his lips across your neck, collarbone, and chest. you start to squirm in his hold as your hips chase after his in an attempt to get some sort of friction to soothe the growing heat in your lower half.

“you want more?” he asks, making you nod eagerly before he’s suddenly pulling off of you completely and taking a step back. “get on your knees.”

you blink at him with blank eyes as your brain tries to catch up with his command along with the sudden absence of his warmth. “…huh?”

minjae rolls his eyes and takes your face between his fingers, squeezing your cheeks to make your lips pout out as he shakes your head around lightly. “are you fucking dumb? i said get on your knees”

you blink at him a few more times in surprise, completely not expecting this type of behavior from minjae. you didn’t think he’d be so… mean. his little curse sent another wave of heat straight through your core and make your thighs clench together. you hold eye contact with him as you slowly slide down to the floor until your knees hit the cold tile. minjae smiles at the sight of your pretty eyes looking up at him through your lashes, his hand loosening from your face before he goes to lightly pat your cheek. “good girl. now go on, help me out.”

you move immediately this time, sitting up and shuffling forward on your knees as you reach out to unbuckle his belt. minjae’s hand reaches up and strokes your head as he watches you as if trying to give you some sort of silent praise. the metal sound of the belt buckle reverberating through the otherwise quiet bathroom makes your face heat up, completely aware of what it is you’re about to do to minjae. or really, what minjae is about to do to you. you swallow harshly and unbutton his pants with shaky hands, glancing up at him one last time for confirmation before he gives you a quick nod.

you pull his jeans down his thighs slowly, now completely face to face with the not so little problem that started this whole ordeal. your tongue comes out to wet your lips at the sight of his cock straining through his gray boxers. why did it suddenly seem bigger now? minjae huffs out a short laugh, the sight of your eyes widening and mouth practically drooling over him amusing him.

minjae opens his mouth to say some snarky comment but you act before he even has the chance to. you don’t know what came over you. you let your eyes flutter shut as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to minjae’s imprint. you press one, two, three soft kisses before you let your tongue loll out and go back in for more, the fabric covering his cock darkening with a mix of your spit and pre-cum that was leaking from his tip. minjae lets out a sharp hiss through his teeth, the hand in your hair clenching and tangling your locks between his fingers harshly.

you continue your ministrations for a few moments more, humming at the subtle taste you could get of him before it suddenly isn’t enough anymore. your fingers hook into the waistband and tug them down gently, minjae’s length springing out and hitting his stomach. you could do nothing but stare at it for a few moments. you already could tell it was big (you felt it with your hand and mouth after all), but feeling it through fabric and seeing it completely out in the open were two completely different things.

minjae seemed to sense your panic, cupping your cheek in his palm to make you look up at him. he offered you a gentle smile; the first genuine one of the night. “a bit intimidating, isn’t it?” you nod. “it’s okay, baby. just take it slow.”

his reassurance makes you nod before looking back at his cock. you wanted to do a good job for him. you tentatively take his length into your hand, wetting your lips before giving his tip a small lick, catching the pre-cum that was previously dripping from him with your tongue. he lets out a small hiss through his teeth as you repeat this action a few times, trying to get a feel of having him near your mouth. finally, you wrap your lips around his pink tip, minjae’s head lolling back as he lets out a throaty groan.

you look up at him as you start to suckle around him, the sight of his exposed neck, furrowed brows, and heaving chest making you drip all over the floor. minjae seems to be having a hard time holding himself back from fucking into your mouth as he pleases, but still lets you take it at your own pace. at first anyways. slowly but surely, you slide your mouth down his length further and further until you finally manage to get his tip to the point it hit the back of your throat. you use your hand to work the rest of him while you get used to the weight of him on your tongue. you try to push forward more, but you gag slightly and pull back instinctively before you’re stopped by minjae’s hands grabbing the sides of your head.

you look up at him in surprise, your brows furrowing as you blink up at him, but all you’re met with is a pitying look from minjae. “i’m sorry, baby girl, but i can’t hold back any longer.” he really does look sorry. well, he does until he pulls his hips back until just the tip of his cock is between your lips, only to push himself back into your mouth again. your eyes widen as you gag around him when his tip hits the back of your mouth once more, the feeling of your throat constricting around him pulling a loud groan from deep in his chest. “fuuuck, baby, just like that.”

tears spring into your eyes and drip down your cheeks with each harsh thrust he delivers to your mouth. your hands come up to grip onto his thighs, the sharp pain of your nails digging into his skin making him hiss through his teeth. you can do nothing but sit there and take it, so you try your best to focus on breathing through your nose. with each push of his hips, he manages to slide his cock deeper and deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth, until eventually your nose is pressed right into the little happy trail on his abdomen leading down to his length.

he holds you there for a moment as he hunches over and seemingly crumbles completely under your touch as his voice grows louder and more high pitched. he looks and sounds so beautiful. you try your best to watch him but the feeling of his thick cock stuffing your mouth full makes your eyes squeeze shut as you choke and sputter around him, tears streaming down your face as you whine. your noises only send shockwaves of pleasure through minjae’s body.

minjae pulls back and gives you a moment to breathe before fucking right back into your mouth again like he’s lost all control. you’re not sure if he can feel the way you’re trying to lick at the vein on the underside of his cock in an attempt to bring him more pleasure, but the way his voice cracks slightly when you do makes you think he can feel it just fine. you both keep up your movements before his hips stutter as he finally spills into your mouth with a loud groan, shallowly thrusting to ride himself through his orgasm.

he throbs against your tongue as the last few spurts of his cum drip into your mouth. his breaths are deep and heavy as he tries to come down from his high, his eyes shut as he stays nestled inside the warmth of your mouth. it’s not until you sputter around him, his cum spilling out around his cock and dripping onto the corners of your mouth that he finally pulls out, a string of his release dripping from his slit and connecting to your lips. he brings his thumb down to wipe at the sticky, white substance before pressing the digit against your lips, your lips automatically parting and taking the appendage into your mouth. he uses his other hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks as you clean off his thumb before he pulls it from your mouth with a lewd ‘pop!’.

minjae’s gaze is tender and soft as he looks at you from above before it darkens once more. he pulls his boxers and pants up quickly before grabbing you by the arm and dragging you up onto your legs. you wobble a bit as your legs tingle with pins and needles from being on your knees for so long, but minjae is there to stabilize and drag you out of the bathroom. you yelp as you stumble down the hall before he hisses at you to be quiet and practically tosses you into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

you spin around to ask him what you were doing in his bedroom (you had a good idea of what) before he takes your face between his hands and kisses you. you melt into his mouth as he guides you backwards with a strong hand on the small of your back to keep you steady until your knees hit the edge of his mattress, the both of you falling back onto the bed. minjae slowly slides his hands up the front of your hips and under your shirt, letting his palms feel over the smooth expanse of your torso before gripping the hem of your shirt and pulling it straight over your head aggressively with a sudden sense of urgency. he then tugs his still loosened pants down along with his boxers and tosses them behind him to join your shirt on the floor.

his lips are immediately on you again, his fingers digging into the plush skin of your waist as your fingers come up to cling into his hair. your kisses are desperate and sloppy, your lips a mess of tongue and a little bit of spit as you whine into each others mouths. you can feel him grind down onto your panty-clad core, the friction making you buck your hips up into his for more.

minjae seems to have absolutely no patience in his body left, his hands coming down to hook into the waistband of your underwear and slowly slides it down your legs as he keeps kissing you. he pulls back to push you further up the bed by your waist, a teasing smirk appearing on his face at the soft whine that escapes your throat at the loss of his lips on yours.

he slides his hand down your body before he runs two of his fingers through the folds of your cunt, gathering the wetness on his fingers before bringing them up to his mouth and tasting you on his tongue. you can feel the skin of your cheeks heat up at the action. he licks his lips afterwards and brings his hand back down to your hole, leaning over you as his bangs fall over his eyes. “you taste so good, but that can be saved for next time.”

next time. the thought that he wanted to do this with you again made you swallow harshly and your eyes widen. you don’t have much time to dwell on the thought before he pushes one finger in, the slide made easy from how wet you had gotten. he stays with the one finger anyways, gently fucking it into you until he pushes a second one in next to it.

his fingers were longer and slightly thicker than yours making him able to stretch you out more than you ever were able to. you let out soft pants and quiet moans as your back arched up at his repeated movement. the gentle drag of his fingers against your walls only made you anticipate what the weight of his cock in you would feel like.

minjae pushes a third finger in when he thinks you’ve adjusted to the first two, picking up his pace as he grinds the palm of his hand against your clit. he doesn’t let up until your hips start bucking up into his as your peak starts rising and rising and rising— only for it to suddenly stop.

he pulls his fingers out of you abruptly, making you collapse back into the sheets as you shake from your ruined orgasm.

“minjae—“ you start, but you’re cut off by him shushing you and running his shaft through your soaked folds.

“shhh, baby.” minjae pulls his hips back and forth, his tip catching on your clit everytime he pushes forward. “god, you’re so wet..” he repeats this motion a few times until he’s thoroughly coated himself in your slick before letting his cock rest on your tummy, just to let you both see just how deep he could get.

the lewd sight makes you sigh out and toss your head back into the mattress. you got a bit embarrassed at the fact you could feel yourself getting wetter at the sight but the visual worked minjae up just as much as it had you, a low groan rumbling from deep in his chest.

minjae slid his cock off of your stomach, a few drops of pre-cum dripping onto your skin as he moved to align himself with your entrance. you tensed up at the feeling of him starting to push past your tight rim. your hands immediately fly to press flat against his abdomen, the stretch already making you panic slightly. “w—wait! ‘s not gonna fit!”

minjae pries your hands off his stomach and interlaces his fingers with yours as he pins them on either side of your head. “it’s okay, baby. i’ll make it fit..” his voice trails off at the end when he turns his attention back to his tip breaching your entrance. you try and take deep breaths to get yourself to relax, only to have your breath hitch in your chest and a loud moan gets ripped from your throat as minjae pushes in.

your hands squeeze minjae’s to which he squeezes back to silently reassure you. “s—shit, baby, you gotta relax. can barely move, youre so tight.” you manage to get your limbs to relax, shutting your eyes since you think looking would just make the slight pain worse. you almost wish you hadn’t because when you do the rest of your senses of your senses all go towards feeling minjae slowly push the rest of him in, inch by agonizing inch.

he lets out a soft groan when he finally bottoms out, your jaw dropping as your head lilts back as you relish in the sensation of feeling so full. minjae lets go of your hands to soothingly run his hands up and down your sides, gritting his teeth as he stays still to let you adjust.

the moment your eyes flutter back open and your chest stops heaving as much is when minjae drags his hips back until just his tip is in only to slowly push himself all the way back in again. the action makes you gasp out and clench around him, your walls tightening around him making minjae hiss out through his teeth. minjae screws his eyes shut and keeps his head down as he lets out heavy pants, his bangs covering his face as he tries to keep himself in check so as not to entirely hurt you.

this doesn’t last very long though before minjae adjusts his grip on your waist, his fingers digging into the plush skin hard enough that you’re sure marks will be left in the morning. he drags his hips back until only his tip in just like before, but this time he snaps his hips against yours so harshly it knocks the air right out of your lungs and sends you sliding up the mattress.

his thrusts are so aggressive and hit so deep you’re sure he’s molding your insides into his shape. tears start to spill over your cheeks as you struggle and fail to keep your loud moans at bay. “minjae— haa— please, s—slow down— hng!” you cry out, the feeling of his tip repeatedly hitting that one gummy spot inside you getting to be too much.

“say you’re sorry.” he growls out.

“h—huh?” you blink up at him in surprise, your fuzzy brain taking a minute to keep up with his request.

“i said say you’re fucking sorry.” minjae emphasizes his words with a harsh thrust between each one before he grabs your face between his fingers, puckering your lips out as you wet his hand with your tears. only then is when you understand what it is he wants.

“‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry! i didn’t— hic!— mean what i said, please! please, ‘m sorry!” you babble out, wobbly apologies coming out like word vomit. it doesn’t seem like it’s enough to satisfy minjae though.

“yeah? yeah, you’re sorry? then let them hear how good i’m making you feel then, huh? let them know how good i’m giving it you.” only then is when you remember your other friends currently still waiting in the living room for your return.

‘ah,’ you think. ‘how embarrassing.’ but the thought still makes you clench around him, something minjae catches immediately.

“oh, that shit gets you off? fucking slut..” his degrading words only makes you moan louder just like he previously asked. you can do nothing but scream out his name and apologies repeatedly, practically cock-drunk and empty-headed by now.

you can feel your orgasm start to build and build fast. you could tell minjae was nearing his end too if the way his hips started to stutter against yours was anything to go off of. a few more harsh thrusts delivered to your cunt and you’re tensing up around him, your walls clenching as you throw your head back and arch up into minjae’s body. you shake and sob as minjae keeps fucking you through it, clawing at his skin in an attempt to get him to stop.

minjae only groans at the feeling of your nails scratching and leaving little red marks on his chest. he chases his own high with fervor until his hips stutter as he comes to a complete stop inside of you, whines leaving his lips as he spills into you. he collapses on top of you, his weight feeling strangely soothing on your shaking form.

his hips move shallowly to help him ride through his orgasm, your thighs twitching with each small drag of his cock in you. you can feel his warm breath against your neck, his hair softly tickling the side of your face. you both lay there panting as you come down from your intense highs, your nails gently dragging along minjae’s back as his hands run up and down your sides. it’s silent for a moment until minjae finally speaks up.

“do you think they heard us?” his words are muffled from his face being practically shoved into the skin of your neck. they pull a loud laugh from you, the bright sound making minjae smile as he pulls his face from your neck to look down at you.

“i think it would’ve been a little hard not to.” you respond, making minjae nod as he pouts his lips in thought.

“well at least now they know.” he says. you furrow your brows and pout your bottom lip out in confusion.

“know what?” you ask.

“that it’s not small.” he says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. you roll your eyes and huff out as you flop back into the mattress.

of course he’s still on that.

[day-drawn-blog]

Part V: I feel your heart beat in my soul, our futures bound, our bodies known. - I want to live

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I

This is part 5. The rest are linked below.

Tags: angst, fluff, eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace

Part IV: There is more to do and I still want to live

Part VI: These ain't my sins, I broke my chains

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours?

Part VIII: Your blood like wine, I wanted in.

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

_____

The day after, you all wandered through the mountain road. You were feeling better. Halsin had ensured you were healing. So did Shadowheart. Laezel looked at you with pride in her eyes. You walked slower than the others. Supported by karlach sometimes. Sometimes Shadowheart. Sometimes carried by karlach. 

Astarion would turn to look at you every now and then. You would look away if he did. It made you blush. 

Did he really tell you those things?

You wanted to talk to him about last night. But there had been no opportunity yet. Everyone was wary. Everyone was tired. everyone was covered in dust and blood. Yesterday had taken a lot out of all of you. You all prayed for a safe journey and looked forward to setting camp. It felt like you had been walking for an eternity. 

So when you found a place at sunset next to a pool of water, everyone was collectively overjoyed. Not only could you all rest, you could all finally feel clean. Karlach and Wyll volunteered to clean everyone's clothes, you were all very grateful. Karlach said she he can dry them real fast. You were curious.

You were looking forward to getting into water.

At nightfall. Laezel dragged you to the pool. Halsin was already there. Everyone had stripped down to minimum inner wear. So you did too. Embarrassing at first but quickly you went in and all was okay. Laezel was very close to you. Lately she has been. It was both flattering and intimidating. But you didn't mind. You liked being liked. Maybe everyone was warming up to you. You enjoyed the feeling. 

Shadowheart appeared with Astarion. 

She was always beautiful. She looked like a goddess right now. Her long dark hair emphasized by her pale bare skin even more. Her body was immaculate. So was yours, you knew. You were all warriors after all. But something about being wanted, made her more attractive you thought. She was confident. She did not yearn. She had it.

Astarion got into the water as well. 

He went to the other side - a little away from you. To join Halsin. Gale joined them too. Shadowheart came next to you and La'ezhel and smiled. "I'm slightly afraid of water. Did you know". Her voice was so melodious. You thought. No wonder she is loved so much.

"Then shouldn't you not be here. I mean, what if you drowned?" Laezel joked or maybe not. You could never tell. "Oh come now. Waist deep water doesn't scare me". Everyone chuckled at the banter. 

You stole a glance at Astarion. 

He was looking at her, smiling, as if proud that she got in the water. Your mistake. What did you expect. Just like any of the other countless times. The only difference was that shadowheart was on your side of the party. She had her arms around you. Maybe they all, got worried yesterday. You appreciated the loving gesture. You felt included and wanted. 

You decided to be kind to her too. 

You would not take away, that which belonged to her. That would be cruel. She was your friend. And ally. And like the others on this journey to salvation, needed your help too. And so you would not turn your back to her. No matter how much it hurt. And it did. It hurt just thinking about it. Familiar pangs. Sharp. Cutting. 

You didn't realize how sad you looked right then. But Astarion did. And he frowned. 

Soon after, among the chatter, you decided it was time to leave. You needed rest. Your aching body was catching up. You expressed that, and got up to leave. Halsin called you out. "let me put the medicine on your wounds before you sleep. Let's get Karlach." You turned to look at him and noticed Astarion looking at you. What was that stare? It was not nonchalant. Searching... fixating.

Odd. 

You suddenly felt acutely aware of how little you were wearing. You felt really vulnerable, and you hurried away. To get Karlach. 

Back in your tent, after Halsin and Karlach had gone, you were finally able to take off your wet clothes. You decided it was a warm enough night to sleep with no clothes under the covers. So you did. 

No one in camp went in anyone's tents without knocking first so you were certain you could get away with such wanton abandon for one night. You could still feel the tingling from the cool waters. You were almost asleep. 

"I got your dry clothes karlach sent" 

Astarion came traipsing in carrying warm dry clothes that karlach had tasked him to take to you. You jolted up. You grabbed the covers and clutched them hard around you. How could you forget?! This guy comes and goes to your tent as he pleases. And that's your own doing! 

"Could - could you give me a moment!!"

He stopped, stared, shocked, blushed and turned around. "Oh yes! Terribly sorry! My apologies. That was very impolite of me" he stood with his back to you "where do you want these?" You gestured to next to him, he placed them down still looking away. You pulled the covers all around. 

"My apologies, again. I will see you later".

"Wait" 

"Hmm?"

"Last night... You said .... " 

He turned to look you in your eyes. Very solemn. You couldn't understand his piercing unwavering gaze. 

"I will.... I promise" 

"Are you really... That grateful to me ...?" 

"More than grateful." His voice was low. 

"You don't need to be. I... don't expect anything in return. I do it because I want to help, you. Everyone". 

"And I want is to repay your kindness." 

You looked down. And smiled a little. It was just that. You helped him. He returned the favor. It was sweet. You should be happy with this. Very happy. This is what you wanted after all. To be needed. To save someone. To help. 

There was silence. 

He approached. "How do you feel, today?" And he took your hand in both of his and kissed it. The way he usually does. A reminder. Of your unspoken contract. You thought. 

"Almost as good as new". 

He was waiting. You knew. You sat down. To get comfortable. He sat in front at the foot of your bed. He kissed your hand again as if he was impatient. Then he kissed the palm of your hand and looked at you. Straight in your eyes, with his lips on your palm. He will not wait anymore you thought. His stare was somewhat threatening. Or maybe you were timid. When he was concerned. 

You decided to tease him. 

You said nothing. He kissed a fingertip of yours and you bit your lip. Enough. You could feel yourself tense up. Down there. Throbbing and pulsating. Curse him. He is truly the devil. But you persevered. You wanted to test yourself. 

When it failed to get the permission he wanted, he decided to make a move. 

He leaned forward and moved closer to you. You were so startled you fell backwards. Down on your bed, propped up by your elbows. He put one arm next to your head and pinned you down while looking down at you. You stared at his beautiful face, blankly.

What is happening?

"You know", he smiled, seductively, "if you keep teasing me like this, I might want.... more ...". He said the last word very softly. But it rang through your body. You felt a pulsation. Another throb. You stared at him in your shock and surprise. Unsure what to do. This was not your plan. Who is this man.

Is this what he does to Shadowheart at night? 

"More?!" Your desire to play the game had heightened. 

He smiled again - a beautiful smile, charming and happy. 

"Why yes, darling. I'm talking about that lovely neck of yours, of course". 

What?! 

All this time, all he wanted...was to bite your neck?! Your neck.... His lips would be ....to your neck...you would feel...his face, next to yours.... It was very... frighteningly.....tempting....

What happened to your aversion of being bit in the neck? Why do you crave it now? What has this man done to you? Robbed you of yourself and your reason it seems. 

You stared at him in disbelief. 

"May I"? 

"I promise to be gentle. I promise....it will feel good." 

For you!!! You thought. What?!

But you were losing yourself in the honey from his words. He is too close. Breathing on you. You could smell him. Feel him. He was slowly getting closer and and closer. You may be getting used, but perhaps you may get something out of this after all! You bargained.

The opportunity to touch him. 

You could touch his hair, his face, maybe even his back.... You felt lust overtake every part of your body as you closed your eyes and looked away, exposing your lovely neck to him. Praying he wouldn't hurt you. 

He lowered himself. One leg between yours. His face fit closer to yours. And you felt his warm breath on your skin. The anticipation was painful. He touched your skin with his lips. You sucked in air and gasped. He kissed your neck lightly like he would your hand. Shivers ran down you. Was this really happening? Your pulse quickened. You were throbbing.

He kissed it a few more times. Soft, gentle, as if savoring it. You bit your lips to stop yourselves from moaning. Why is he doing this? You clutched the bed and the covers tight. You had stopped breathing.

Then he gently pierced his fangs in you. Very slowly. And settled in. You moaned. You knew it no longer matted - he would not notice anymore. Bliss. Because you could now let go of the covers. You grabbed him with both hands. Clutching the shirt on his back.

Fair exchange. You thought.

As he drained you, you let you several breathy quiet moans. And you arched your back. You so wished to be touched. But you knew, he was not making love to you. 

You lifted your leg at one point. And realized, as it grazed him. He was, very hard. He was a man after all, and this was very intimate. Or maybe, feeding made him so happy. You didn't care... your brain was fuzzy. It was pleasurable. You couldn't believe that it was him you were sharing such a pleasure with. You wished this would last a bit though not much because you did love your body. 

Eventually you tugged his hair sharply. And he finally stopped. He let out a sharp gasp of air. Then proceeded to lick the wound. Like he always did. It was not helping. Several times, your throbbing self, your leg brushed past he hard self. It only made you want him more. You tugged at his shirt with both your hands now. He kept kissing. 

His kisses got wetter, louder, till he was obviously just a man savoring his lover and no longer a vampire savoring his prey. He kissed and licked under your ears. Then kissed your ears. Too much. Too close. His face was too close. He kissed your cheek. And licked it once.

Stop. What are you doing. 

But he didn't. He held your face and licked the other side. Kissed your other cheek. It was as if he was so euphoric he had lost control. You moaned louder and louder. Stop. You begged him mentally.

But also, not to.

He continued to kiss your other neck, and ear, down to your collarbone now. And came back up to your chin. Your head was tilted all the way back. You dared not open your eyes lest you lose control too. You were in his complete embrace at this point.

But then, he finally did stop. 

He paused and looked at you. Searching for something in your eyes. You looked at him then his lips. Then his eyes again. He was so close. His nose was almost touching yours. You must be going crazy. You didn't want him to leave yet. And he was right there. You had to. You just did. 

You reached up and kissed him. 

Surprised at first, he kissed you back. Hard. Your head was back in the pillow. He took charge. Moved your hands away and dragged your cover away. Your nipples were probably very hard and visible you thought.

He paused. As if something had just brought him back to reality. He then looked at you. your uncovered half, your nipples. He looked at your naked half body for a second. Then sat back up. Covered his face in his hands for a few moments. Then he got up and ran out. 

Part VI: These ain't my sins, I broke my chains

[sungnxxn]

Echoes of Devotion

[uni student!park sunghoon x yandere uni student!female reader]

Genre: horror: psychological; yandere; angst !!WARNINGS!!: MURDER (read at your own discretion); (quite) explicit gore description; nail/teeth pulling; poisoning; strangling; hands/throat slashing; stalking; threathening; putting dead rats at one's door (??); manipulation; vomiting; kidnapping; mention of attempted suicide; profanities Notes: ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY!!!!; written in 3rd person; mention of Heeseung, Jay, IVE's Wonyoung, New Jeans' Minji; they are all uni students; the fem!character went mad MAD yet she tries to play it cool (?!); fem!character goes through a mental breakdown;; feedback is very much appreciated!! Word Count: 7,159

!!! DO NOT REPOST NOR TRANSLATE WITHOUT PERMISSION !!!

Playlist: Jazmin Bean - Yandere | Elita - Sour Switchblade | Madds Buckey - The Red Means I Love You | Melanie Martinez - Pacify Her | Carolesdaughter - Violent | Allie X - Bitch | Royal & the Serpent - Warn You

The university campus buzzed with the lively chatter of students, a symphony of voices blending into the backdrop of rustling leaves and distant traffic. The summer break had been anything but enjoyable for her. Having to move out once again was tiring, yet she knew it was for the good. For her own good.

She navigated the crowd with practiced ease, her gaze flitting from face to face, searching for something—or rather, someone.

It happened in an instant. Amid the sea of faces, she saw him. He stood by the fountain, laughing with a group of friends. His smile was bright, his eyes crinkling at the corners, radiating a warmth that seemed to draw everyone in. Hearing his name from one of his friends' lips nearly made her catch her breath in her throat. "Park Sunghoon!" She knew her old habits would resurface sooner rather than later, but she didn't expect them to be this soon.

There was something magnetic about him, something that set her pulse racing. She had seen many attractive people before, but he was different. His very presence seemed to light up the space around him, making everyone else fade into the background.

She felt a jolt of excitement, a spark of something dark and powerful. This was the feeling she had hoped to bury when moving out. But deep down, she had been waiting for it. The certainty that he was the one. He's next.

A smile curled at the corners of her lips, subtle yet sinister. She watched him intently, her mind already weaving plans and strategies. His every movement, every laugh, every interaction was like a thread she could pull, unraveling the life he knew and reweaving it around her.

He seemed perfect—friendly, trusting, and utterly oblivious to the danger that had just marked him. She could already see how easy it would be to insert herself into his world, to become indispensable to him, to isolate him from anyone who might come between them.

As the bell rang, signaling the start of class, she didn’t move. She continued to watch him, her smile growing more pronounced, her eyes narrowing with determination. This was no ordinary attraction; this was an obsession being born, a single-minded focus that would drive her every action. And she knew that.

She would have him. Completely. Utterly. And no one, absolutely no one, would stand in her way.

It started innocently, with subtle glances during the breaks and passing encounters in the university hallways. She never made herself present to him, not yet at least. Old habits die hard, however; she still managed to get to know his entire schedule—from morning lessons and subtle meetings with his friends at the nearby café, to those football matches that always began at 5:30 p.m. Some might think she had gone completely mad, but little did they know she had been like this since 9th grade.

After some time, she started to get bolder. Maintaining short eye contact, leaving cheesy love letters with his favorite tiramisu-flavored chocolate in his locker. She wanted to keep it normal. She tried to tell herself that this was who she really was. She wasn't the psycho she was back then. She was different now. Yet, in her heart, she knew she couldn’t be normal, even if she wanted to. Even if she tried.

She saw his reaction every single time. The first time he looked surprised as he saw a love letter in his locker. He kept it. It gave her a little bit of hope that she didn't have to revert to her old, scary habits. She even wrote her number there, hoping he would reach out, purposely avoiding mentioning her name. Unfortunately, by the end of the day, he did not.

She persevered. She kept writing those goddamn love letters and buying that goddamn tiramisu-flavored chocolate. Letter after letter. Every time the same reaction, but the annoyance in his face growing with each of them.

When the number of written letters reached fifty, she decided to confront him. She found him in the library, secluded in a corner with a stack of books. Heart pounding, she approached, her footsteps silent on the carpeted floor. “Sunghoon,” she said softly, yet firmly. He looked up, startled. “Why haven’t you responded to my letters?” Tilting her head slightly, boring her dead eyes into him with a slight glimpse of hurt. She wasn't smiling. She was dead serious. She wanted to know why he hadn't reached out, why he ignored her, why he rejected her.

"Oh, you wrote those letters?" Sunghoon shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly caught off guard. He closed the book he was reading and looked up at her with a gentle, apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry,” he began, choosing his words carefully. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings by not responding.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The truth is, I’m not really interested in having a love life right now. I’ve been trying to focus on my studies and my future. There’s just so much going on, and I don’t think I can give anyone the attention they deserve.”

Seeing the slight tremor in her expression, he quickly added, “But I really appreciate the effort you’ve put into the letters. And the tiramisu chocolates were amazing—they’re my favorite, and it was very thoughtful of you.”

Her heart sank at his words, but she masked her disappointment with a tight, controlled smile. "I see," she said, her voice steady but laced with a barely perceptible edge. "You want to focus on your studies. That's understandable." She took a small step back, smiling forcefully. "I'm glad you liked the tiramisu chocolates, though," she added, her tone softening just a bit. "It’s nice to know at least something I did made you happy." A shadow flickered in her eyes, but she quickly blinked it away, maintaining her composed demeanor. "I suppose I'll stop bothering you with my letters, then," she continued, the words sharp despite her calm delivery. "Good luck with your studies, Sunghoon."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked away, her back straight, leaving Sunghoon with a sense of unease. As she exited the library, that forced smile dropped, and her mind raced with new strategies, the sting of rejection only fueling her determination further.

Walking home from the library in a daze, Sunghoon's words replayed in her mind. "I'm sorry, but I'm just not interested. I need to focus on my studies right now." The rejection cut through her like a knife, every word a fresh wound. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of rage and despair building with each step she took.

As she reached her apartment, the door barely closed behind her before the dam broke. She collapsed onto the floor, her body wracked with sobs. The tears came fast and hard, streaming down her face as she clutched her chest, gasping for breath.

"Why? Why doesn’t he see?" she choked out between sobs. "I'm the only one who truly loves him. I'm the only one who understands him."

Her cries echoed through the empty house, a haunting symphony of pain and madness. She staggered to her feet, stumbling towards the bathroom. In the mirror, her tear-streaked face stared back at her, eyes wide with a wild, unhinged gleam. She laughed, a high-pitched, manic sound that contrasted sharply with her sobs. The laughter grew louder, more hysterical, mingling with her tears until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

She grabbed the edges of the sink, her knuckles white as she leaned forward, her reflection distorting in the mirror. "Focusing on the future, my ass," she muttered to herself, the laughter dying in her throat. "The only future that he has is me. He just doesn’t understand yet."

Her mind raced, a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts and dark plans. The rejection had shattered something inside her, leaving a void that only her obsessive love could fill. She stumbled back into the living room, knocking over a lamp as she went. The crash barely registered as she fell to her knees, clutching her head, the pain of rejection fueling her madness.

Her breathing slowed, and a cold, calculating calm settled over her. "I’ll make him see," she whispered, her voice low and steady. "I’ll make him understand that he belongs with me. And if anyone tries to get in my way…"

Her eyes hardened, the wild gleam replaced by a steely determination. She knew what she had to do. The madness was no longer a burden but a driving force, propelling her towards her goal. She wiped her tears away, a twisted smile curling together with a chuckle on her lips.

"Sunghoon will be mine," she vowed, her voice filled with a chilling certainty. "No matter what it takes."

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the university campus. Her heart racing with anticipation, she clutched her books tightly as she made her way to the student lounge. Today was the day she would get to know Sunghoon’s friends better. She had spent weeks observing them from a distance, learning their names, their habits, and their schedules and, most importantly, their secrets.

Heeseung's mental health was at its lowest due to his parents' divorce and his unrequited love for one of the most popular students. Jay's family financial struggles and his hidden talent were secrets she had uncovered. Wonyoung was under immense pressure from her parents, yet she kept up her best girl facade while hiding her chronic illness. She knew it all. And she certainly knew how to put that knowledge to use. It was all part of her meticulous plan to get closer to Sunghoon.

As she entered the bustling lounge, she scanned the room until her eyes landed on the familiar group gathered around a table near the window. Sunghoon sat at the center, laughing at something one of his friends had said. She took a deep breath, putting on her most charming smile, and approached the group with a casual confidence.

“Hey, do you mind if I join you?” she asked, her voice sweet and friendly. The group looked up, slightly surprised by the unexpected visitor. Sunghoon, being surprised to see her, smiled warmly, yet still had their conversation from the library in mind.

“Sure, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to an empty chair. She slid into the seat, her heart fluttering as she found herself sitting next to Sunghoon. His friends, a mix of curious and welcoming faces, introduced themselves one by one.

“I’ve seen you around,” said Heeseung, a tall guy with a friendly grin. “You’re in our literature class, right?”

She nodded, her smile never faltering. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to get to know everyone better. It’s nice to finally put names to faces.”

As the conversation flowed, she skillfully engaged each of Sunghoon’s friends, asking questions and showing genuine interest in their lives. She laughed at their jokes, shared her own stories, and slowly but surely, integrated herself into the group. Every now and then, she would steal glances at Sunghoon, noting how relaxed and happy he seemed with his friends.

“I love your nails, by the way. The color really suits you,” said Wonyoung, the girl who often partnered with Sunghoon in projects. “I'd love to do them for you one day.”

Her eyes lit up at the suggestion, a flicker of arousal flaring within her. “I’d love that. Maybe we could hang out at my place someday, who knows?”

The girl seemed to warm to her recommendation, discussing potential plans for a weekend nail session. She nodded along, her mind already calculating how she could use these moments to deepen her bond with Sunghoon and subtly influence the group dynamics.

As the evening wore on, she felt a sense of triumph. She had successfully ingratiated herself into Sunghoon’s social circle, her plan unfolding perfectly. By the time they all said their goodbyes, she felt a new sense of belonging and a step closer to her ultimate goal.

Walking back to her house, she couldn’t help but smile. Getting to know Sunghoon’s friends was just the beginning. Soon, Sunghoon would see that she was the perfect addition to his life, the one who truly understood him. And no one, absolutely no one, would stand in her way.

As the weekend arrived, Wonyoung was already at her door, all ready and excited for the planned nail session. Before she could even ring the bell, the door suddenly swung open, revealing the owner of the house.

"Oh, hi. Please, come in." She felt as if the excitement was ready to explode within her, yet she was not letting her facade slip.

As they entered the meticulously decorated living room, her smile never faltered, masking her true intentions. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said warmly, gesturing to a plush armchair. Wonyoung sat down, glancing around at the tasteful décor. “I’ve been working on a new hobby,” she continued, pulling out a sleek, black box. “Let me show you my collection.”

She opened the box, revealing an array of perfectly painted nails, displayed like trophies. The girl admired them at first, her eyes widening in admiration. “Wow, these are amazing! You’re really talented,” she said, completely unaware of the truth. She smiled, a hint of something sinister lurking behind her eyes. “Oh, thank you! Those are some of my favorites.”

Wonyoung continued to admire the collection, completely unaware of the dark truth behind them. “How do you get them to look so real?” “Well,” she began, her voice taking on a playful, almost teasing tone. “That’s because they are real.” Wonyoung laughed, thinking it was a joke. “You’re so funny!”

But her smile only widened. She reached for a small, ornate box on the shelf and opened it, revealing an assortment of perfectly preserved nails. “No, seriously. These are real ” Wonyoung’s laughter faltered as she looked more closely at the nails. “Wait, what?”

Picking up one of the nails, she held it delicately between her fingers. “These nails used to belong to some very… unfortunate girls. Girls who thought they could get too close to someone very dear to me.”

Wonyoung’s eyes widened in horror as the realization sank in. She took a step back, her mind racing. “You’re joking, right? This is some kind of sick joke.”

Shaking her head slowly, her smile never wavering. “Oh, Wonyoung, I’m very serious. You see, I take my collection quite seriously. And I’m always looking to add more… unique pieces.” She placed the nail back in the box and closed it with a snap, the sound echoing ominously in the room. Wonyoung’s hands trembled as she tried to process what she had just heard.

“But don’t you worry,” she continued, her tone now sickeningly sweet. “As long as you stay out of Sunghoon’s business, you’ll have nothing to fear.” Wonyoung nodded frantically, her face pale. “Y-yeah, of course. I-I won’t say anything.”

“Good,” she said, her smile returning to a more innocent facade. “Now, how about we paint your nails? I promise it’ll be fun.” As Wonyoung sat down, trying to steady her shaking hands, she selected a bright, cheerful color from her collection. The juxtaposition of the lighthearted activity and the dark secret hanging over them created a chilling tension in the room.

Her blood ran cold, and she tried to stand up, but her grip was suddenly iron-strong. “You're here because you're Sunghoon's friend,” she said, her voice eerily calm. “And that’s a problem.” Before the girl could react, she produced a pair of nail clippers, her smile never wavering. She held Wonyoung’s hand firmly, isolating her pointing finger. The girl struggled, but the grip was unyielding, the other hand trying to escape from her strong hold.

The sharp snip of the clippers echoed in the room, followed by the girl’s muffled cry. She carefully placed the newly clipped nail into her box, closing it again with a satisfied click. She released the girl, who bolted from the chair, clutching her bleeding finger.

“Remember this next time you think about talking to him, or you'll sniff the daisies from underneath sooner than you would have thought,” she said softly, watching with cold satisfaction as the girl fled in terror.

She could not pinpoint how she happened to be currently in her own kitchen. At 2:18 a.m. Her mind was a whirlwind of dark thoughts as she stood in the dim light, the only sound being the gentle hum of the refrigerator. Meticulously mixing the batter, her thoughts singularly focused on Minji, the girl who dared to call Sunghoon 'Hoonie' with such familiarity. It was a nickname that should only be hers to use, and the thought of Minji’s casual affection made her blood boil. Her movements were precise, almost methodical. As she measured out the ingredients, each step bringing her closer to her goal.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial of poison, its contents undetectable and deadly. With a practiced hand, she added a few drops into the batter, ensuring it blended seamlessly. The poison would be subtle, taking hours to take effect, giving no hint of its presence until it was too late.

The next day, during their study group, she brought a tray of freshly baked cupcakes, their sweet aroma filling the room. With a practiced smile, she approached the girl. “I baked these last night,” she said, her voice dripping with false warmth. “I know how much you love sweets, so I saved the best one just for you.”

Minji’s eyes lit up, grateful and unsuspecting. “Thank you! That’s so sweet of you,” she replied, taking the cupcake eagerly. She bit into it without a second thought, savoring the taste. Watching, her smile never wavering, as Minji enjoyed the treat. The study group continued as usual, with everyone focusing on their assignments and discussing their topics. Hours passed, and as the session came to an end, Minji began to feel the first signs of the poison taking effect. She winced, her hand clutching her stomach, but brushed it off as a mere stomachache.

Later that night, as Minji lay in bed, the pain intensified. The subtle poison worked its way through her system, causing excruciating pain. She gasped for breath, her body wracked with agony. Within hours, the poison claimed its victim, leaving Minji lifeless and cold. The lethal gift did its work.

The next day, news of Minji’s sudden and tragic death spread through the campus like wildfire. She could hear the whispers and saw the shocked faces of her peers. She wore a mask of concern, her eyes wide with faux sympathy. Inside, however, she felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, a smirk threatening to break through her facade.

“That’s terrible,” she said to a classmate, her voice laced with carefully crafted sorrow. “I can’t believe something like this happened.”

As the conversations around her continued, she maintained her act, but deep inside, she reveled in her success. Minji was no longer a threat.

She had been shadowing Sunghoon and his friends for weeks, blending into their group with ease. Today, she sat at their usual table in the bustling cafeteria, watching as Sunghoon chatted with Heeseung, Jay, and Wonyoung. Her heart pounded when a new figure approached the table: Joon, a charismatic student known for throwing the best parties.

“Hey, Sunghoon!” Joon called out, his voice brimming with excitement. “I’m throwing a party after the exams. You should totally come. It’s gonna be epic!”

Sunghoon looked up, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “I don’t know, Joon. I’ve got a lot of studying to do even afterwards.”

Joon waved his hand dismissively while winking in Wonyoung's direction. “Come on, man! You can’t study all the time. It’ll be good to unwind. Plus, everyone’s going to be there.”

Clenching her jaw, her mind racing. This party was a threat, a potential distraction that could pull Sunghoon further away from her. Forcing a smile, she interjected, “A party sounds fun, but don’t you think it’s important to stay focused on your studies, Sunghoon?”

Joon laughed. “Lighten up! It’s just one night.”

Sunghoon finally nodded, though reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll try to make it.”

Her smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. There was no way of letting this new social connection ruin her plans.

She had been watching Joon for days, observing his every move. He who dared to invite Sunghoon to a party was an unequivocal threat to widen his social circle and pull him further away from her. Over several days, she slipped threatening notes and disturbing, gory images into his locker. Each message was more terrifying than the last, escalating his fear and paranoia.

“Stay away from Sunghoon, or you’ll regret it,” one note read, accompanied by a photo of a mutilated teddy bear.

His once confident demeanor crumbled. Dark circles formed under his eyes as he lost sleep. His grades slipped, the terror consuming his thoughts. She watched with satisfaction as he became a shadow of his former self.

One night, as he walked home from another party, his steps were slow and weary. She followed silently, her movements careful and calculated. The streets were empty, the only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves. She stayed in the shadows, her eyes fixed on her prey.

When he turned into a dark alley, she made her move. In one swift motion, she wrapped a garrote wire around his throat, pulling it tight. His eyes bulged in shock, his hands clawing at the wire, trying to scream but only managing a strangled gasp. The struggle was brief and silent, the wire cutting deep and fast, severing his cries and his life.

His lifeless body dropped to the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath him. She stood over him for a moment, watching the life fade from his eyes. The thrill of control and power coursed through her veins, a dark satisfaction settling in her chest. She wiped the wire clean and slipped it back into her pocket, leaving the scene as silently as she had arrived, smiling proudly.

The next day, the campus buzzed with the news of the boy’s tragic and mysterious death. She mingled once again with the concerned and the curious, her face a mask of shock and sadness.

Inside, she felt a twisted sense of triumph. One less distraction for Sunghoon, one step closer to securing him for herself.

She had always been meticulous in her surveillance of Sunghoon. Her obsession with him had led her to follow him discreetly, ensuring she was never far from his side. One evening, she decided to trail him after he left the university, curious about his destination.

As she followed him through the bustling streets, her heart pounded with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Sunghoon turned into a small cinema, a place she hadn’t expected. She bought a ticket and followed him inside, maintaining a safe distance. Her eyes widened in shock and fury when she saw him with a girl from another university, their hands intertwined. They were laughing and seemed entirely engrossed in each other.

Her mind raced with thoughts of betrayal and rage. Who was this girl? How dare she come between her and Sunghoon? She gritted her teeth, her hands clenching into fists. As they left the cinema, she snapped a few photos of them together, her mind already forming a plan to eliminate this new threat.

The basement was cold and dimly lit, every corner meticulously organized to ensure no sound escaped. There she stood in the center, a chilling smile playing on her lips as she looked at the bound and gagged girl in front of her. Sunghoon’s alleged girlfriend, now nothing more than a terrified captive, was tied to a heavy wooden chair, her eyes wide with fear.

“I warned you,” she began, her voice soft and deceptively kind. “I warned you to stay away from Sunghoon.” She picked up a pair of pliers from the metal tray beside her, the dim lightglinting off the sharp metal. "But apparently, threatening letters and dead rats at your door do not bother you."

The girl’s sobs grew louder, her pleas muffled by the gag. The girl struggled futilely against her bonds as she approached, pliers in hand. “Sadly, you didn’t listen,” she continued, a hint of mockery in her tone. “Now, you’re going to pay the price.”

With brutal efficiency, she gripped the girl’s jaw, forcing her mouth open. The girl’s screams were stifled by the gag, her eyes rolling back in agony as the first tooth was ripped out. Blood poured from her mouth, splattering onto the floor. One by one, the teeth were extracted, each accompanied by a fresh wave of pain and muffled screams. She hummed a cheerful tune as she worked, placing each bloodied tooth carefully into a small jar. When she was done, she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. The girl’s mouth was a bloody ruin, her sobs now reduced to weak, incoherent moans.

“Look at you,” she said, holding up the jar of teeth. “Such a pretty collection. I think I’ll make something special out of these. Maybe a ring? Or a necklace? Sunghoon always had a taste in unique jewelry.” She set the jar aside and leaned in close, her face inches from the girl’s. “You should’ve stayed out of Sunghoon’s business,” she hissed. “You should’ve known better than to try and take him from me.”

The girl’s eyes were filled with a mix of terror and confusion, her pleas unintelligible. Only laughing, a cold, mirthless sound. “Help me! Help me! No one can hear you,” she mocked. “No one is coming to save you.”

Growing tired of the girl’s incomprehensible cries, she grabbed a large butcher knife from the tray. With one swift motion, she severed the girl’s hand at the wrist. Blood gushed from the wound, and the girl’s screams reached a new, agonizing pitch. “Gosh, stop whining like a bitch and take it!” she snapped, covering her ears. The girl’s continued screams grated on her nerves, driving her to the edge of her patience. Finally, in a fit of frustration, she slashed the girl’s throat. The screams stopped abruptly, replaced by a gurgling sound as blood poured from the fatal wound.

She stood back, watching the life drain from the girl’s eyes. Once she was certain the girl was dead, she set to work with a grim determination. The body was dragged to a large vat of acid she had prepared earlier. She pushed the body into the vat, watching as the flesh began to dissolve, the room filling with the acrid smell of burning skin.

While the acid did its work, she carefully cleaned and dried the severed hands, removing every trace of blood. She placed them in a transparent box, admiring the grotesque display. As she closed the lid on the box, she couldn’t help but smile. Everything was falling into place. Sunghoon would be hers, and no one would stand in her way.

Ascending the basement stairs, her steps slow and methodical. She had cleaned up everything meticulously, ensuring no trace of her gruesome act remained—except for the vat of acid, its contents now dissolving away any evidence. As she emerged from the basement, a wave of nausea suddenly overwhelmed her.

Staggering towards the bathroom, she could feel the bile rising in her throat. She barely made it to the sink before she began to vomit, her body convulsing with each heave. The acidic taste of bile burned her throat, tears streaming down her face as she purged the contents of her stomach.

When the retching finally subsided, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her breathing ragged. She glanced up at the mirror above the sink, her reflection barely recognizable behind her disheveled bangs. Her eyes, wide and wild, stared back at her. Slowly, a hysterical laugh bubbled up from within her, mingling with her tears.

Her laugh grew louder, more unhinged, as she gazed at her reflection. Tears of anguish and frustration streamed down her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop laughing. The sound echoed off the bathroom walls, a chilling mix of mirth and madness.

Without warning, she drew back her fist and smashed it into the mirror. The glass shattered, shards flying in all directions, some embedding in her knuckles. Blood mingled with the tears on her face as she stood there, panting and trembling.

The remnants of the mirror reflected her fractured image. She stared at the jagged pieces for a moment, her breathing shallow and erratic. Then, her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the bathroom floor, her body racked with sobs.

She lay there, the cold tiles pressing against her skin, her mind a chaotic storm of emotions. The reality of her actions crashed over her, the weight of her obsession and the depths of her madness suffocating her. But even in her despair, a dark satisfaction lingered. Sunghoon was one step closer to being hers, and no one else would ever come between them again.

Lying on the floor, her vision began to blur. She closed her eyes, tears still streaming down her face. Slowly, she began to mouth the lyrics of one of her favorite songs. Her voice was barely a whisper, but the words held a twisted kind of comfort for her.

"This may become a little brutal if I'm honest," she mouthed, her lips forming the words with deliberate care. Her voice was shaky, filled with both desperation and determination. "But it's any- anything for you my dear, I promise."

The words echoed in her mind, a haunting lullaby that mirrored her descent into madness. As the last line left her lips, her strength gave out completely. Her consciousness slipped away, leaving her lying on the cold bathroom floor, surrounded by broken glass and blood.

The house was silent except for the faint hum of distant traffic. In the dim light, her body lay still, a testament to the lengths she would go for her obsession. The darkness enveloped her, a temporary reprieve from the chaos within.

The night was thick with foreboding as Wonyoung finally gathered the courage to approach Sunghoon, her voice trembling with the weight of the secrets she carried. They were alone in a secluded corner of the campus, the moon casting a pale light over the deserted grounds.

“Sunghoon, we need to talk. You have to know the truth,” Wonyoung said, her eyes wide with urgency. Sunghoon looked at her, concern etched across his face. "What's wrong, Wonyoung?" "It's about her. The new strange girl," Wonyoung began, her eyes darting around as if she feared being overheard. "I went to her house. She invited me to paint my nails, but… Sunghoon, she showed me her collection of painted nails. They were real, from girls she saw as a threat. Her house is full of evidence. She's dangerous!"

Sunghoon stared at her, his face a canvas of shock and disbelief. “Wonyoung, what are you saying? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Wonyoung replied, her voice cracking. “She did this. She ripped off my nail." Saying that, the girl shows Sunghoon her bandaged pointer finger. Tears filling her eyes. "I barely got away. I think she's the one behind all the murders. You have to believe me. Please.”

Lurking nearby, she overheard every single word. "I couldn't help but overhear," she continued, her voice dangerously soft. "You seem to have some serious accusations against me, Wony~."

Sunghoon and Wonyoung turned to face her, both startled.

A sinister smile curled on her lips as she stepped into the light, her presence as chilling as the night itself. “It’s funny,” she said, her voice smooth as silk, “hearing you two talk like this. I had no idea you were so concerned about my little secrets.”

Wonyoung's face turned white. "Stay away from us."

Her eyes glinted with malice as she approached them, her steps measured and deliberate. “You’ve got it all wrong,” she continued, her tone mocking. “I have nothing to hide. In fact, why don’t you come with me? Let’s have a little chat at my place. It’s a bit of a mess, but I’m sure you’ll find it quite… revealing.”

Wonyoung hesitated, her suspicion palpable. “Why would we go to your house? You could be lying.”

Sunghoon, desperate to make sense of everything, placed a reassuring hand on Wonyoung’s shoulder. “Wony, those accusations are severe. We need to see it for ourselves. I have to know the truth.”

Wonyoung grabbed his arm. "No, Sunghoon, it's a trap!"

Yet Sunghoon reassured her, his determination unshaken. "I have to do this, Wonyoung."

Reluctantly, Wonyoung nodded, as she cannot leave her friend alone, and together they followed to her house, each step echoing with foreboding silence. Inside, the house was eerily quiet, the atmosphere heavy with tension. She led them to the living room, her smile still unsettlingly calm.

“Would you like some water?” she asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “It’s been a long night.”

Wonyoung eyed the glass of water suspiciously. “No, thank you. I’ll pass.”

Sunghoon, however, nodded. “I’ll have some.”

With a sardonic grin, she handed Sunghoon the glass. “To your health,” she said, her eyes sparkling with malice. “I promise, there’s nothing in it.”

As Sunghoon drank, Wonyoung’s gaze remained fixed on her, mind racing with doubt. “Sunghoon, be careful,” she whispered, but her words were drowned out by the sound of the glass clinking against Sunghoon’s lips.

Minutes later, Sunghoon’s eyes fluttered shut, the dissolved sleeping pill taking effect. Wonyoung watched in horror as he slumped forward, the glass slipping from his fingers and shattering on the floor. Before the girl could react, she felt a sharp sense of pain. Directly after, she crumpled, unconsciously to the floor.

“Come on, Wony. It’s time to play,” she said with a sinister smile, her voice dripping with malice. “Let’s see how much Sunghoon really cares about you.”

The basement door creaked open, revealing a room shrouded in darkness. Leading Wonyoung down the stairs, the air growing colder with each step. At the bottom, the dim light revealed a scene of horror—chains hanging from the wall and a heavy chair on the opposing side.

When they woke up, Wonyoung found herself chained to the wall by her hands and legs, while Sunghoon was tied to a heavy chair in front of her. Panic surged through them as they realized their predicament.

Wonyoung struggled against her bonds, fear and confusion flooding her senses. “Sunghoon! Wake up! We have to get out of here!”

She stood before them, her eyes gleaming with twisted delight. "Welcome to my game room," she said. "Tonight, we'll play a little game."

Her laugh echoed through the room, chilling and triumphant. “Oh, don’t worry, Wonyoung. You’re going to be a part of it as well, of course."

She picked up a set of knives, twirling one in her hand. "Sunghoon, your task is simple. You have three tries to hit Wonyoung in the head with these knives. If you succeed, I will admit to everything and set you free." She paused, a cruel smile curling her lips. "If you fail, you might as well never see the light of day. Same goes to your friends and family. It's quite simple, really."

Sunghoon, bound to the heavy chair, shook his head in disbelief. “Please, don’t do this. I’ll do anything, just don’t make me hurt Wonyoung.”

Her eyes burned with cold resolve. “You don’t have a choice, Sunghoon. You must play. Now, shall we begin.”

She handed Sunghoon a knife, its blade gleaming ominously in the dim light. Sunghoon’s hands trembled as he took it, his mind reeling with fear and desperation. Missing on purpose, the knife embedding itself harmlessly in the wall. Wonyoung's pleas for him to hit her filled the room, her voice desperate and tearful.

“Do it, Sunghoon! For all our sakes, do it!” Wonyoung shouted, her voice breaking.

Sunghoon closed his eyes, the knife in his hand feeling like lead. He threw for the second time, but it missed, clattering harmlessly to the floor. “I can’t do it,” he muttered, his voice breaking. “I can’t hurt you, Wonyoung. I can’t.”

He couldn’t bring himself to do it. With each throw, he missed, refusing to harm his friend. Her smile widening with each miss.

Her smile faded, replaced by a fake expression of disappointment. “Seems like you’re not as perfect as I made you out to be,” she hissed. “Well, you’ve failed. And we do play fair here. Wonyoung, being your friend, makes her my first win.”

Wonyoung’s screams pierced the air as she lunged forward with a knife. The blade sank into her chest, the sound of her agony echoing through the basement. Sunghoon’s heart shattered, his screams mingling with Wonyoung’s, the room turning into a scene of unspeakable horror.

As Wonyoung’s life ebbed away, she sat on Sunghoon’s lap, her knife still in hand.

As she gazed at Sunghoon, her lips slowly curled into a smile that could freeze the blood in your veins. It started innocently enough, a slight upturn at the corners of her mouth. But then, it spread wider, unnaturally so, stretching across her face like a mask. Her eyes, once filled with feigned warmth, now glinted with a dangerous intensity, pupils dilating as if she were a predator honing in on her prey.

The smile revealed perfectly straight teeth, each one gleaming with a chilling, predatory sheen. Her upper lip lifted just enough to expose a hint of gum, adding an unsettling, almost feral quality to her expression. It was a smile that promised not joy or kindness, but a twisted satisfaction, as if she were savoring some private, malevolent joke.

Her head tilted slightly to one side. The contrast between the sweet, almost childish tilt and the dark promise behind her grin was jarring, creating a dissonance that sent shivers down the spine of anyone who saw it. It was a smile that hinted at hidden depths of obsession and a readiness to do anything—absolutely anything—to keep Sunghoon for herself.

This was no ordinary smile; it was a harbinger of the lengths she would go to, the boundaries she would cross. It was the kind of smile that made you realize, too late, that you were already ensnared in her web.

“Mmm, look at you,” she whispered, her voice a dangerous purr. “You’re pathetic, Sunghoon. You let her die because you couldn’t do what was necessary. You’re not the hero you thought you were.”

Sunghoon’s eyes burned with hatred and disgust. “I hate you,” he spat, his voice trembling with rage. “I wish I’d never met you. You’re a monster.”

Her smile faltered, eyes flashing with fury. She jumped up, the knife still clutched in her hand. “You don’t understand, Sunghoon. I did all this for you! I dedicated everything to you! After everything I've done for you? After all the sacrifices, how dare you say something so lethal to me!”

She began to rant, her voice rising hysterically. "You wanna know a fact? Your stupid girlfriend is in that goddamn vat," she pointed to a large container in the corner, "I made fucking jewelry out of her teeth! I did it all for you! Because I fucking love you!"

Sunghoon’s words cut through her madness. “I hate you. I never want to see you again, nor will I ever love you!”

In a fit of rage, she lunged at him, her knife flashing through the air, stabbing him repeatedly while screaming, "How can you say that? How can you not see my love?!" She didn’t stop until the room was filled with the sound of his final, choked gasp. His lifeless body fell to the floor, a silent testament to her unbridled fury.

Sunghoon's blood splattered across the room as he slumped forward, lifeless. She stepped back, panting, realizing the enormity of what she had done.

As the reality sank in, she started sobbing hysterically. "No, no Sunghoon! Wake up!" she pleaded, shaking his lifeless form. Tears streamed down her face as she fell to her knees, her sobs echoing through the cold basement. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon. I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking with every word. She reached out to him, her hands trembling, but it was too late. He was gone.

Her mind raced, the reality of her actions crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She had killed him, the one person she had claimed to love. The despair was overwhelming, the weight of her guilt crushing her spirit. She grabbed the knife, her hands shaking as she considered ending it all. Her fingers brushed against her throat, the blade’s edge cold and unforgiving.

But then, the distant sound of sirens cut through the silence, pulling her back from the edge. The police were coming. She had to flee. With a final, anguished scream, she stumbled to the emergency exit, her footsteps echoing through the dark basement.

She burst through the door, the fresh air biting at her skin like icy needles. The night was alive with the wail of sirens, the flashing lights slicing through the darkness, growing ever closer. She ran, her legs pounding against the grass, her breath ragged and desperate. The relentless police lights grew brighter behind her, a haunting reminder that she could never escape her sins.

As the sirens blared louder, panic clawed at her throat. She made a final, desperate decision. She couldn’t face the world, not after what she had done. The knife glinted in her hand, its blade sharp and cold, a harbinger of release. She raised it to her throat, trembling as she prepared to end it all. But then, the shouts of the approaching officers pierced the night, their voices urgent and commanding. The reality of her situation hit her like a sledgehammer, knocking the breath from her lungs.

With a final, choked sob, she dropped the knife, her strength evaporating as her body collapsed to the ground. The police swarmed around her, their voices a distant echo, their hands rough as they pulled her from the cold ground. Darkness clawed at the edges of her vision, dragging her down into its merciless embrace. The last thing she saw was the flashing lights, the sirens wailing a mournful dirge, a cruel reminder of the hell she had created for herself.

As consciousness slipped away, a final, despairing thought flickered in her mind: Sunghoon. His name was a whispered lament, a ghost of a hope that had long since died. And then, there was nothing but darkness.

[icallhimjoey]

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: part four! are we learning from our previous mistakes? TAKE A WILD GUESS! after this, have one more chapter to go, and i know ive been consistently posting every week, but im afraid that the last part is going to take me a whole extra week to finish (bc ill be out of the country for a sec) so, my apologies! but i hope this long chapter makes up for the extra wait! <3

Wordcount: 6.5K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“I didn’t say he doesn’t… I just said, he has never actually said it.”

Emily’s jaw dropped, and you immediately regretted saying what you just said.

“No, stop. He has said it. Forget I said anything. It’s fine.”

You knew exactly what she was going to say.

She’d alluded to it from the start. Rolled her eyes at him. Made faces of outrageous confusion that told you, how can someone behave like that, without having to say the words aloud. Without making you hear them.

“I’m just saying…” Emily started, and showed you a facial expression that made you feel stupid for even bringing it up.

“It’d be better for you to leave him.”

You laughed, like she made a joke, yet so aware that she absolutely wasn’t.

But listen, if you didn’t laugh, you’d cry, because you knew, you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that it probably was better for you to leave him.

Not a truth you wanted to face though.

There were still too many easy excuses for you to make.

So... you made them.

But Emily’s face remained quite serious.

“Emily. You don’t mean that.” You said on the back-end of a giggle.

“Are you joking? My God, it’d be so much better if you left him. Better for you, better for, well, me. Can’t even tell you he loves you? What is he on?!”

You shushed her, and looked over your shoulder in the general direction of your bathroom and listened for a few seconds. The shower was still going. He couldn’t have heard her.

Good.

Not that Emily’s general opinion was a huge secret. But still. It was nice if the peace could be kept for the night.

“He does tell me that.” you argued, much softer. “Just...”

“Just does it when he’s about to hang up the phone? Just a quick, casual, love ya, when he’s saying goodbye?”

“Well, he–”

“Or does he only say it when he’s about to come?”

“Emily.”

“Oh, God. You’re so beyond help, I don’t even know what to tell you anymore.”

For a moment, you avoided eye-contact. Pressed your lips together and looked around the room whilst your friend tried her best to get it into your head that Joe really just wasn’t it.

“You know you’re in second place.” Emily said, suddenly much more earnestly. “You don’t deserve to be in second place.”

Which was a nice sentiment. A thing a best friend was meant to tell you. A bit like a parent calling their baby a genius because they accidentally made a bit of babbling sound like a real string of words.

“Well,” you said, taking a deep breath in and giving Emily your best smile. “So is he, so I guess we’re even.”

He wasn’t.

These were two different leagues.

But suggesting that Emily was in first place with you was the quickest way to make her feel appreciated even though her advice went untaken.

It always did.

Emily was a good friend and always gave excellent advice. And you were a good friend because you always listened to what she had to say. Or, you thought you did. Would tell yourself you did.

But then you simply wouldn’t follow any of it.

You hadn’t taken her advice when she’d told you to stop fucking around in a fourteen month situationship.

“I like how this just… works, don’t you?” Joe had said one evening when you were wrapped up on his sofa together. You’d made a comment that someone had flirted with you and had asked if you were single. You hadn’t known what to tell them.

Joe had just shrugged then.

“Let’s not push for something if it doesn’t need it. Something not broken doesn’t need a fix, does it?”

And you’d disagreed then. Had hoped that he’d grow a little protective and would’ve gone, um what do you mean of course you’re not single. For a while you also hadn’t wanted to define anything, because fuck commitment, right? But it had been over a year and Emily said that you should ask him to just fucking label it already.

You hadn’t.

You also hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you that she thought this guy wasn’t going to make you happy.

Hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you that she thought this guy was ultimately just there for a bit of fun, but not really much else.

Hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you to just leave him already when you told her he had never sincerely told you that he loves you.

“I know you’re smart enough to know that it’s absolutely wild that he’s not said–”  

“It’s because you just hear all the bad things, I’m sorry. I should also tell you about the good shit.”

“Oh, yea? Like what?” Emily challenged, and in the silence that followed, you heard the shower turn off.

“Like... look! Look what he got me!” you said, picking up a bag from a dining table chair.

Your friend looked at it for a moment, blank faced, and then narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“Got you? Like, he went out and bought that for you? Or, was that sent to him by the brand, and he just passed it on?”

You looked at the bag you were still holding, then gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. He still gave it to me.”

It was a nice bag.

“Not exactly the same is it.”

No, it wasn’t. But... you know. You could pretend it was.

“Still counts.”

“Okay. If you think so.”

You didn’t think so, not after what Emily had just said, but you were willing to accept it for the nice gesture, and that was all you cared about. Or, what you told yourself was all you cared about.

“I think so.” You definitively told Emily, breaking into a smile to really sell it.

Just when she was about to roll her eyes at you and maybe try her hand at talking a little more sense into you, Joe called you from the bathroom.

You left Emily on her own for about a minute before joining her again.

“Okay. Let’s go. He’s not coming.” You grabbed your coat and found your bag. The one Joe had given to you, but hadn’t spent a penny on.

“He’s– what?”

“He thought of something that still needs doing. He’s not coming.”

Emily stared at you from where she was sat, watching you hurriedly wrestle your arms into the sleeves of your coat as she slowly caught up to speed.

“So, I’m sorry, but have we just waited for him for ages for fucking nothing then?”

You ignored her tone, finding your phone, your keys, and then Emily’s coat as well.

“Let’s go. If we hurry, we might beat the rain.”

You chucked Emily her coat, and she almost didn’t move her arms in time to catch it. With the front door already open, you gestured for Emily to make her way through, calling, “Bye! We’re off!” into the flat.

Emily, under her breath, very mockingly sing-songed, “Love you!” in that same tone as she walked past you, making her point once more.

You didn’t repeat her, but instead rolled your eyes at what you decided was a joke, and then loudly said, “Don’t wait up!”

You didn’t wait for Joe to answer before you slammed the door shut.

It’s been weeks.

Months, technically, although it doesn’t feel it.

“Please be home, please be home, please be home,” you mutter to yourself as you rush your way down his street. “Please be in the fucking country, for just this fucking once…”

You’d texted and had gotten no coloured ticks from him. So then you’d called, but it just rang for ages before you were eventually sent to voicemail, and that’s something you don’t do. Especially not now. Not about this. Hell would have to freeze over before you’d leave a voicemail message. You could delete a text thread, or a voice note. But, a voicemail? Once a voicemail sends out, there is no undoing that.

Maybe you’re crazy, but what you’re doing now feels safer.

It’s after midnight, dark, the streets wet from earlier rainfall, but you feel wide awake. You’ve got Emily’s words ringing in your ears still, and you’ve not been able to shake them yet.

Her advice.

Or, well, it was more just her opinion. She had expertly dressed it up as a fact, though, which is probably why that one sentence still held you in a vice grip.  

Telling her about how you’d had a few… moments, with Joe, since you’d broken up with him, turns out, was the wrong thing to do.

You just really wanted to tell her about the wine.

The expensive bottle you’d satisfyingly dunked into his kitchen sink.

It’s been weeks by now, but you still think about that all the time. And every time that you do, you feel pure glee spark inside of you.

You thought she’d be the same.

You thought she’d absolutely love it.

But then, after you had told her all about that night, she’d just looked at you with so much disdain and disappointment, it startled you into rambling excuses, none of which sounded true to your own ears, let alone hers. She then had shook her head, and sort of muttered something to herself that you asked her to repeat.

It’s those words that haven’t left the forefront of your mind since.

You didn’t ask Emily to clarify herself. You hadn’t gotten into an argument, either. You had just… moved onto a different topic. A lighter, easier to digest thing to talk about.

It left those words to rein freely, left those words at liberty to inflate themselves until they were all you could think about, and the feeling had clawed at your chest for the rest of the day. The rest of the night.

You hadn’t been able to answer the question, what’s wrong, that you were repeatedly asked until it made you upset.

“Nothing’s wrong! Stop asking me what’s wrong! God! You asking me what’s wrong a million times a minute is what’s wrong!”

Something is wrong though.

Obviously.

You just left someone in your bed for this.

Ringing Joe’s doorbell is a quick action, fingers pressing that familiar button before you can have any doubt of what you’re doing. It takes longer than a few seconds before you hear a small beep.

“Joe? I texted you, can you reply to my text?”

A silence follows, and for a moment you think maybe the intercom doesn’t work properly, or maybe he just hadn’t heard you.

“I– I sent you a message, check your phone–”

A loud click of the door unlocking and a loud shrill buzzing sound interrupts you.

“No you don’t have to– just text me back, will you?”

No answer follows, but the loud buzzing persists. After a few more seconds of it, you know Joe’s just holding down the button until you go inside.

That wasn’t the plan. 

With a frustrated grumbling sigh, swearing under your breath, you push yourself into Joe’s building and make your way to his front door.

In the lift you decide you won’t let the doors close properly when they’ll open on Joe’s floor. You’ll tell him from half inside the lift that he just needs to check his phone.

You just want an answer.

But then the lift doors open and one foot steps out as you lean into the hallway, expecting to see Joe waiting by his front door, yet he isn’t.

You make an angry face, nose pulling up and showing your clenched teeth with a frown. You’re in a building where people are asleep so you can’t make any noise, but you absolutely would have otherwise. Joe leaves you no other choice but to get out of the lift, and begrudgingly, you make your way over to his doormat.

When you get closer, you can see how the door’s been left open.

“Hey,” you whisper-yell into the flat, “Joe?”

You get no answer, and take a few careful steps inside to find him standing in his kitchen in a T-shirt and a pair of boxer-briefs. He’s got his back turned to you, and is seemingly busy cleaning up mess he’s left out from dinner.

It’s the fucking middle of the night.

It’s dark in Joe’s flat, the only light in the room coming from his under cabinet LEDs, and it’s weirdly warm for the time of night, you think.

“Hey, I–” you start, voice low because it’s late, but you quickly get cut off by Joe.

“Did you close the door?”

You blink a few times and watch Joe very carefully load some things into his dishwasher, making little to no noise at all. No plates softly clashing, no rattling cutlery.

“What? No. I–”

“Will you close the door, please?” Joe asks, but it sounds like a demand. Sort of cold, a little detached.

“All I’m here to say,” you try again. “Is that I want you to check your phone...”

Joe stands up straight and finally looks at you. Whilst maintaining eye-contact he slowly closes the dishwasher until it latches, machine clicking shut, and when he then just... keeps staring at you, you throw your head back like an annoyed teenager, and reluctantly do as you’re told.

You go to close his front door.

In the kitchen you hear the tap go, and when you join Joe there again, you can see how he’s filling up a glass with water.

Joe is about to take a sip when he suddenly decides against it and lowers the glass.

“Water?” he then asks, and holds it out to you with a stretched arm.

You’re slightly confused, but you take it, and then watch Joe reach for another glass from a cabinet and fill that one for himself.

“Thanks, but…” you place the glass on his counter and hold two hands up to Joe. “I’m just here because I need an answer to a text.”

Joe, with his mouth in his own glass, sort of looks at you a moment as he gulps water down.

He looks tired.

Which, yea, that checks out.

You fucking woke him up, didn’t you?

There’s so many reasons to declare yourself clinically insane right now, but you’re holding onto the notion that this is actually all totally normal with all of your might. If you pretend to believe it, you might just be able to trick Joe into it as well.

But Joe just looks at you like he’s waiting for you to give the real reason of why you’re there.

“So, if you could just, check that. Answer it. That’d be great.” You force a polite smile and step back. “That’ll be all.” And you turn to leave again.

“You’ve been crying.” Joe stops you in your tracks.

You turn back to him.

“No. Well, yea I was, but that’s not– I’m fine, that was about something else, not this. You don’t have to– stop, I’m going to go, please... respond to my message. I’ll read it when I get in, and that’ll be that.”

“Wait.”

Joe picks up the glass of water you’ve just put down and gives it back to you. When it’s in your hands, he even gives it a little push upward to ensure that you have a sip.

“I’ll go get my phone.”

And he’s so calm and agreeable that it feels rude to do anything else but take a sip and wait for him. You watch Joe walk out of the room to go get his phone, and it’s a lot of opening and closing doors, everything done as quietly as humanly possible. Then, you suddenly notice how hot you feel in your coat. It’s really fucking warm in here.

That’s new.

That’s... weird.

When Joe comes back, he closes the door behind him again and looks at his phone as he unlocks it.

“Why did you call me?”

“Just–”

“I’ll read the text.”

In silence, you stand and watch Joe open his texts and read your message. Messages. There’s several. Then, he starts typing back, and, this is what you came here for, but now that you’re standing in Joe’s kitchen in the middle of the night, having pulled him out of bed for this, you almost want to tell him he’s being an idiot. He can just as easily answer your question in person.

His message sends, and your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Joe places his down and gives you a tired stare.

“Yea, okay. Th-thanks.”

“Read it.”

It startles you.

“No, that’s…” You’re so stupid. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Read your message.”

You feel like a fucking child that’s being scolded by a parent.

Guilt.

Regret.

Self-inflicted, which makes all of it so much worse.

Every feeling sits dark and sticky and bitterly uncomfortable in your gut, clinging to all the edges, stretching longer until the shadows overtake all of the previous excuses you had for being here.

You shouldn’t have come.

You shouldn’t have gone to wake up Joe over something so insignificant and, well, dumb. It’s embarrassing, and you want to leave.

“You’re here now. I’m up. Read your message.”

You inhale deeply. Hold it there for a moment.

He’s right.

The damage has been done.

You’ve dipped a toe into this strange pond, and now you might as well canon ball yourself right into this uncomfortable mess, no matter how cold the water might be.

The only way out seems through.

You pull your phone from your pocket with a clammy hand, and fucking damn it, you’re sweating underneath all of your layers.

“I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

Joe just lets his eyes drop to your phone before he looks right at you again, his very stance issuing the orders.

Read the fucking text.

You see the notification and open your phone with face ID. Your own messages to Joe catch your attention first, before you see his reply.

“Were we as good as we’re going to get?”

“What we were together”

“Was that really as good as it can get?”

“Ever?”

You didn’t have to send the same question in various different ways, but that’s what had happened.

Emily’s reaction to the stand alone get-togethers you’d participated in with Joe hadn’t been what you’d expected. You’d hoped for a level of girl power encouragement. For a loud get it girl, or a, yea babe get what you want.

Instead, you’d gotten a sigh and shake of her head, followed by a soberly mumbled, “You really do deserve each other…” that you’d asked her to repeat.

Before she’d always said that Joe didn’t deserve you. That was always the point she tried to get across. The idea she tried to sear into your brain. Joe was beneath you, and you were far above. Always.

And then suddenly, now you are no longer too good for him?

Suddenly you’re on equal footing, and you deserve each other.

What the fuck.

You look at your own messages and realise in that very second that you have no idea what kind of answer you are after from Joe. This isn’t a coin toss situation where you know what side you want that coin to land on the moment it get’s thrown into the air. Fear strikes you lightning fast. No matter what Joe is going to tell you, it’s going to be wrong.

What the fuck are you doing at Joe’s flat?

And why is it so fucking hot in here?

The only way out is through.

You read Joe’s text.

“Darling it’s late, let’s not do this over text”

A non-answer.

You look up at Joe, who is now leaning against his kitchen counter, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest. His head tilts to the side a little and neither of you speak.

It’s oddly unexpected that the guy in his underwear exudes more confidence than the girl bundled up in heavy layers of clothing.

You frown and read the message again.

For a second you debate what to do next. What to say. If this is going to be the end of this interaction, or if it’s going to be just the beginning.

It’s late, though.

You inhale deeply. Slowly.

Then, resign.

“Okay.”

Because honestly, what were you really even expecting from him?

Your soft little defeated okay isn’t what Joe expected though, you can see it in the minor change on his face. The eyebrows that quirk up slightly, his jaw that loosens, the eyes that round out...

“I’ll um...” you say softly, letting your phone sink back into a pocket before pulling at your sleeves to let them cover both hands.

Joe steps forward and bends to look at the clock on the oven behind him before he says, “Well. Since you’re here. Might as well.”

He gestures an arm at his dining table. At one of his chairs. It’s hard, but you do your best to ignore the memories of the last time you were there, sat in one of these chairs. Well, technically, you hadn’t sat in one of the chairs... Joe had sat on one of the chairs and you–

“Am I going to get an explanation of what’s going on?” Joe asks as he pulls out a chair for you.

Finally, you remove your coat.

“It’s a long story.” You say, then think for a moment and add, “No it’s not, actually. Emily said–”

“Ah. Emily.” Joe sits down in a chair opposite. “How is Emily doing?”

“Shut up. She’s fine.” You exclaim, voice a little raised in defense, and you’re immediately shushed by Joe. He holds up a hand as he perks up, and you get the message, lowering your tone as you add, “This isn’t about her.”

“It’s not?”

“No. She just said something. I…” you trail off for a second.

Your head’s a scrambled mess of doubt and insecurities and it doesn’t help that all you’ve done in the past few hours is overthink every single thought that’s popped into your brain. It’s a bit of a journey to retrace your steps and go back to the start of all of this.

“We were talking, and suddenly she... she said something and I’m just… I wanted to know if you think that… if you think what I texted you is true.”

“You just… wanted to know… if I think…” Joe narrows his eyes up at the ceiling as he thinks, slowly repeating your words.

It’s condescending.

Patronising.

Joe’s making fun of you.

“All right, be fucking honest or–”

“No, no. I’m sorry. Sorry. It’s nearly two in the fucking morning,” two already big eyes comically enlargen, but don’t make you laugh. Wrong audience. “But, yea, you’re right. Honest. I’ll be honest.”

You take a deep breath in preparation of what he’s about to say.

Were we as good as we’re going to get?

“Imposing question, though.”

Yea, you’re aware. It’s why you hadn’t been able to sleep and had eventually decided to just get up and out of bed, leave the boy you had in there on his own, and make your way over to Joe’s.

“I don’t know.”

Wild how you feel about five inches tall whilst simultaneously feeling like you’re taking up too much space in the room.

“You don’t know.”

Typical.

“Well. No, I… was it as good, wait, what was it?” Joe looks past you and sees that he’s left his phone on the counter. “Was it as good as it could be?”

You exhale through flared nostrils, frustration forcing your eyes shut for a moment.

“Were we as good as it’s ever going to get for us?”

“Were we as good as it’s ever going to get... I mean, I think so? I– But–... you tell me. Were we?”

And Joe’s right. It is late. You have spent hours thinking that question over, and you couldn’t answer it when you weren’t as tired as you are now, so it’s useless to even try at this hour.

You shrug, and for a moment, it’s quiet. You don’t know how to go about leaving now. You came here for something you aren’t going to get and so, fucking now what?

“Why um... why have you been crying?”

“Oh, I...” your fingers find your sleeve to rub. “I was asked why I couldn’t sleep, and I... well, I couldn’t really explain, so...”

Joe frowns in confusion, not understanding.

“I don’t know, you try listening to someone say shit like, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you, fifty times in a row, and try not to fucking snap.”

They’d been tears of angry frustration, mostly with yourself, and they’d actually surprised you. You hadn’t expected to cry, but, you felt hurt by words your best friend said to you, so you guess that does add up, actually.

Something slowly dawns on Joe before he then leans back in his chair and nods, scrunching his nose, and he whispers, “Jasper.”

“Jasper.” you confirm, and it makes you chuckle a little before a yawn breaks it up.

Joe watches you. Lets his eyes take you in. It’s the middle of the night and you’re very clearly going through something, but he hasn’t got the answers to the questions you’re asking him, and he hates it.

Wishes he could help.

Wishes the questions you wanted answers to weren’t so impossible.

Joe watches you yawn. Watches your eyes blink slowly as you stare into space for a moment. It’s so quiet, he can hear his clock tick on the other side of the room. Then suddenly, you smile.

“I told Emily about the wine... about how I was a complete bitch and poured that bottle right down your drain.”

And Joe can’t help but feel more amused at your smile than feel annoyed about his expensive wine being wasted. He won’t let his face show it though.

“Bet she enjoyed that.”

“Yea I thought she would, but... she just... she said that we deserve each other. Whatever that means.”

Joe watches your fingers rub along your sleeves. Knows what that means.

“That’s not true.” he suddenly says, voice low and sincere.

“Oh, right,” you huff a laugh and half-heartedly joke, “I don’t deserve you, of course.”

Joe doesn’t laugh.

“No, I mean... well, yes. Technically.” Before he continues, Joe shakes his head in an attempt get his thoughts in order. It’s late. “But not in the way you just said it. In that... you probably deserve better.”

“Probably?”

“Yea. And so do I. Probably.”

Hmm.

You silently mill that over for a second. Aren’t sure what to make of it. If there’s even anything to agree or disagree with there.

“But, who’s to say. All we know is that we weren’t the best before.”

Joe stresses that last word and then lets the words float in the air for you to draw your own conclusions from. It’s certainly true that you weren’t the best together - hence the break up that eventually happened. But Joe’s expertly sharing the blame, which is not a fun truth to face.

The before saves it, a little.

The before makes it sounds like Joe’s talking about two people who no longer exist. Like, those people are gone. That door is closed. And look at you now. You’re a whole new set of two different people. It’s a different world, and you’ve changed. Grown. Learnt.

Who knows what you’d be like now.

Joe can’t predict the future.

And neither can you.

“Hmm.” you hum, eyes trained on the surface of the table, body flushed with conflicting feelings you don’t know how to put into words. Instead of stumbling through words until you find ones that make sense, you remain silent and pull at your sleeves so there’s more fabric for your fingers to run across.

“Hey,” Joe leans forward a little and catches your attention. “Are you okay? Do I need to be worried about you?”

You smile and let it take over your whole face as you shake your head no before you bring your hand up to cover another yawn.

“No. But I should go. This was never meant to be– she just… I don’t know, Emily got into my head and I didn’t know how to get her out.”

Joe contemplates in silence. Wonders if he’s okay with the idea of you walking out and going home right now, in this state. It’s almost three o���clock.

“I don’t make the best decisions after midnight. Sorry.”

You push your chair back and get up on your feet, the plan being to give Joe a quick polite hug goodbye before you make your way back to his front door.

You’re tired, but you know the second you step outside into the cold air that will make your lungs feel sore, you’ll wake up enough to make your way home without any problems.

But then Joe decides you can’t just go.

You can’t just leave.

He’s stuck.

You’re stuck.

You’re stuck in it, together, in this muddy sludge of whatever the two of you have become now. One of you is going to have to step out of their shoes and escape, and Joe thinks it should be you, because you’ve escaped this quicksand of a relationship before. You know how to get out.

It’s weird that you willingly came back.

Keep coming back.

And it’s awful that Joe just keeps inviting you in. Welcomes you with open arms every single time.

But he wants you to stay. It doesn’t have to be like before. Things can be different. Better.

He decides he’s not just going to let you leave, so when he stands up and you go in for a hug, he takes hold of you by your upper arms and starts moving you towards his sofa.

Says, “Come sit for a second.”

And no resistance comes from you. Joe thinks it must be because you’re tired. You’ve cried and you’ve worried and you’ve let all of it eat away at you until you decided to reach out to him, and now, he wants you to stay. He’s not a fan of how, from a certain angle, it looks like he’s taking advantage of the situation, but... you’re both adults.

He’s not doing anything illegal.

Well.

There’s a girl in his bed.

It’s why the flat is warm and why all the doors are closed. Joe shouldn’t have let you inside. Shouldn’t have made you come in and shouldn’t have made you close the door behind you. Shouldn’t have given you a glass of water and shouldn’t have sat you down.

He doesn’t want you to leave now.

There’s a girl in his bed.

And you’ve got a Jasper in yours.

Joe’s closeness to you will come at a price, he’s aware. But it’s one he’s willing to pay. One he’s got the cash for, no problem. Name the sum and he’ll double it.

He’s got you by the arms and is walking you over to his sofa. You are stopped just before you’re about to step onto the area rug.

“Shoes off,” he says, like he gives a shit. You know he doesn’t, but listen to him anyway, and know that taking your shoes off means you’re not going anywhere. At least not for a while.

You get turned around and get sat down, and immediately, you feel far too comfortable. The seat’s too soft. The cushion’s too fluffy. Memories of the hours spent snuggled up on this sofa shoot into the forefront of your mind and you want to warn Joe that it’s not going to take much for you to fall asleep.

But before you can, he pulls a throw blanket from the other side and hands it to you, and you realise that getting comfy and cosy is actually the goal here.

There’s a guy in your bed, who you’ve just… left. Didn’t tell him anything. Just got out, got dressed and left.

You take the blanket from Joe.

It’s probably a good idea to at least let him know something. Send him a text. Let him know you’re okay. But that little voice of reason in your head gets drowned out when Joe sits down next to you and helps sort out the blanket so it covers you both.

“Sit for a second?” you ask through a soft half-suppressed laugh as Joe settles in beside you, your thighs touch underneath the throw. “Am I staying the night?”

“I don’t know, I don’t control what you do. I just want to sit for a second.”

Joe stretches an arm behind you that you think he’s going to rest on top of the sofa, but it moves your head forward a little as it grabs hold of your bicep to pull you in a bit more.

“Joe...” you warn, but it sounds lighthearted and sleepy.

“What?” Joe acts all innocent, but you can hear his amusement when he adds, “Just for a second.”

Joe is still shuffling in his spot, using his other hand to sort the cushion behind him, then pulling the blanket and tucking it under his leg, followed by him using his chin to fix the bit of flipped cotton of his T-shirt sleeve – it’s a lot of faffing for someone who wants to sit for just a second.

He’s nearly done, a centering sigh half way out of him when, suddenly, you feel how he pipes up a little and see how he looks across the room. His phone’s still on the counter, and for a second, Joe debates getting up to go and get it.

You determine on his behalf that he doesn’t need his phone by draping your arm across his stomach and snuggling up.

It’s warm in Joe’s flat.

And this little nest is perfect.

“Fine.” you mutter softly. “Jus’ for a second.”

Joe pauses for a moment as he looks down at how you let your nose brush his arm, your eyes already closed, and he grins as he sinks back down into his sofa.

You don’t make the best decisions after midnight.

Neither does Joe.

Maybe you do deserve each other. Maybe you don’t.

But you deserve this, you think. And you mean that in the best way possible. You deserve to be comfortable, and cosy, and toasty warm in a dimly lit room with a man who smells really nice.

You deserve to cuddle up next to someone who truly values your presence and genuinely just wants you to be there with them for a little while.

You deserve the soft tickling fingertips that delicately dance across your hairline, lingering there for far longer than ‘just a second’.

You deserve the barely whispered, super soft “Love you.” spoken so tenderly and punctuated with a gentle kiss pressed to the top of your head, it makes you tighten your arms around him.

You fall asleep in the soft glow of the under cabinet LEDs with the knowledge that the next morning is bound to be awkward. But this is still infinitely nicer than trying to fall asleep with Emily’s words on your mind. It’s difficult to think about impossible-to-answer questions when you’re wrapped up in strong warm arms that want you there, so you allow yourself to sink and to drift until dreams fully take you.  

A loud bang of a door slamming shut wakes the both of you with a violent jolt.

Two pairs of tired bleary eyes look around the room, and there’s a fleeting moment of confusion. Your mind scrambles to piece together where you are and what just happened, but all your mind can focus on is how dry and heavy your eyes feel as you blink to adjust to your surroundings.

“Oh, fuck,” Joe croaks, groaning as he goes to sit up. He looks over his shoulder, then rubs a heavy hand across his face before he goes, “Yea…”

You feel disoriented and frazzled, and move to sit up just enough to look over the back of the sofa with squinty eyes to see what Joe is even looking at.

All you see is an open door to the hallway that leads to his bedroom.

“What was that?” you ask, thinking maybe something dropped or knocked over somehow. When Joe gets up and walks over to his bedroom to check, you think that’s it. Something fell because gravity finally got a hold of whatever Joe had been precariously balancing on a bookshelf.

But then you hear Joe audibly sigh and dejectedly go, “Yea, she won’t be coming back.”

That takes minute to land.

It’s too early for your brain to comprehend what just happened, but slowly, puzzle pieces click together.

Oh.

Oh, that’s fucking detestable, isn’t it?

When Joe walks back out, he’s wearing joggers and is holding a ball of socks, and you hope there’s a different explanation than the correct one you just concocted. He looks at you for a moment, and you can tell by the look on his face that he feels awful.

Right.

Emily can fuck off.

You don’t deserve each other.

You deserve better than this.

Okay, so, yea, admittedly, you aren’t really one to talk, seeing the personal choices you have made over the past eight hours. But the choices Joe has made in that same span of time are just as bad, if not worse.

You decide to give into the feeling of wanting to lay back down rather than to face whatever this morning has on offer for you. You disappear from Joe’s sight, and cover all of your face with your hands that press and pull at your skin.

This is such a mess.

“Emily can fuck off.” You mutter into your own palms, hoping Joe can translate that and connect the dots of your disdain for him in this very moment.

You should leave.

Should check your phone for any messages or missed calls, and you should leave.

Never come back.

Learn your fucking lesson already and never set foot into this flat ever again.

But then Joe leans over the back of the sofa, and with knitted eyebrows that show off every single line on his forehead, he softly asks, “Do you want a coffee?”

You drop your hands.

Look up at him. The kind face. His short hair sleep messy. Jaw line. His mouth.

You should leave.

“Um…”

Oh... oh no.

“Yea…”

Fuck.

So close.

“Yea?”

You almost had it.

“Yea. I could use a coffee.”

Almost.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @cowboymcflurry

@demonsanddemogorgons, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson

@emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby

@gri959, @hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns

@keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @loves0phelia, @mandyjo8719

@mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr, @munsonssweets, @nadixq

@niallersfreckles, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid

@readergf, @royale1803, @skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac

@solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle

@tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @witchwolflea, @xxladymjxx, @yunirgo

add yourself

[valeriianz]

For the fic writer asks:

4. Obviously you did research for BitB. I'd love you to ramble about it if you like I'm sure you've got STORIES

5. Did you outline it?

7. How'd you decide it would be Hob's pov?

25-27 I'd love to know a/some favorite lines, details, and any lore you might want to share

omg TJ what wonderful questions! thank you!! this is going to get LONG!

4: Rambling about research!

do you wanna see a screen shot of my bookmarks under my "band au" folder?

man, and that's only what could fit on the screen.

there is... SO MUCH i chose to ignore for this fic. ideas that i had to drop, lines or extra details about the other band members equipment. more logistics, what Lucienne actually does, what Mervyn has to put up with as the new touring stage manager... i realized very early on that i couldn't possibly cram all this (super cool and eye opening) information into the fic and still keep reader's interest and, most importantly, to not stray away from the fact that this is a dreamling fic. whenever i felt myself getting carried away with a side character or job or even social media numbers, gossip, outside POVs, i had to reign myself in and get back on track. there will be time for exploring everything i missed in side stories after BitB is finished. i just hope i still have the energy to write it all.

once, i was so deep into research that after publishing chapter 2, i went into work and when my chef asked what "GA" meant on my prep list, i answered with full confidence, "general admission."

(it means "get ahead.")

the worst part of this entire writing process is im still learning new shit. i havent rewatched or read a lot of what i've saved because, to be very honest, i was feeling a little burnt out. it's why we're kinda full steam dreamling now. it's why ive been glossing over a lot of technical stuff and being vague about conversations amongst the crew/not including it at all. i don't prefer ignoring my research, but at the end of the day i want to still enjoy writing this fic and finish it. even if i can't be as descriptive and detailed and nuanced as i used to be.

5: Did you outline the fic?

(also asked by @hardly-an-escape!)

i wouldn't call what i have a proper "outline," it's more like a 20k word document filled to the brim with notes that i skim at least a dozen times while i'm writing a new chapter (being in my brain is literally hell). i live multichapter life very dangerously. i copy and paste lines or sections (always scattered, never together! augh!) that are meant to go together and plop them in a new document titled "band au ch.#" and then i structure the chapter around what i want to happen.

but to answer this question in the plainest of terms: yeah. i know exactly what's going to happen up until the very end. even if its all in my head and the only concrete shit that's written down are beats/plot points. i'll figure out the rest later!

7: How'd you decide it would be Hob's POV?

i actually never even considered writing it from Dream's POV. this was my first fic in the fandom (which is so nuts to think about lol) and writing in Dream's POV sounded so scary lol. i also just thought Hob's would be easier because i have worked a few backstage shows, back in my college years. i figured eh, i can make this work. and i loved exploring how weird and mysterious musicians can be, from a normie's POV. making Hob a fan first and having him worry about developing a parasocial relationship... it was fun to explore.

25: Share your favorite line

oh god, i have so many haha.

“What are you thinking about?” starting in ch.2 and onward lmao

“It’s–” Dream laughs quietly, bitterly. “I don’t like change.” He says each word with emphasis, eyes trailing down to fixate somewhere past Hob. “And I still hold onto the things I can control, like my instruments–” his eyes swing up to regard Hob apologetically. “Or my clothes or my–” he brings a hand up and wiggles his fingers around his head. “My hair.” ch.4

"His majesty is pleased." ch.5

“You are obsessive,” he states, slow and cool and with a quiet smile cracking through his composure. “Just like me.” ch.7

“You look good.” Hob has to lean in to say so, unwilling to raise his voice amongst the roar of the fans. ch.11

“Del looks like porcelain, but she’s actually made of steel.” Desire swirls the contents of their glass before pushing their shoulders back with a deep breath. “She's tougher than all of us.” ch.11

“Everything. I want…” his fingers tighten in Hob’s hair, pulling him closer, speaking against his lips. “…Everything.” ch.14

26: Share your favorite detail

how intentionally coy Dream behaves. i love keeping him a mystery and deciding when and how much to allow his intentions to peek through has been so fun lol.

Despair is in fact covered in tattoos and piercings! i say this because i feel like sometimes i forget lmao. (but also her and Hob don't interact much so. my bad haha).

Delirium's constant explosion of color in the way she dresses <3

Hob's dedication to his job, Dream, and the people he cares about the most. i don't care if people think i'm making him too soft and good, im gonna project on that man and make him a sweet, sweet simp lmao

and ah, this doesn't matter anymore, and i kinda regret doing it but. i originally had Dream's favorite bass all black but the pickguard was white. so it actually looked like Jessamy. not gonna lie when @designtheendless drew it all black i decided i liked it better that way. and truly i do. that's when i went back to ch.1 and changed it haha. to actually see the guitar with Dream, all done up sparkling black and purple flecks... gosh it's just so him. but then i got up to the reveal that the guitar's name was Jessamy and i was like, "oh, right." lmao. no one seems to care so i'll leave it be.

27: Share a piece of lore you made up for the story

i have a lot lmao. and this post is already so long... im hoping i can get to some if not all of it in side fics in the future. but for now, here's some that's more like headcanons but:

Dream hates flying. he can full on go into panic attacks on the plane if he allows himself to get into his own head.

this was mentioned briefly in ch.4, while Dream was discussing the formation of the band, but Despair was in another band before joining Endless. she is the only character in the fic who gets to keep her English roots (lol sorry) and is the oldest in the band (30).

all of the band members ages: Dream, Desire, and Death are all 28 and Delirium is 22.

Dream can experience subdrop after going too hard during a performance.

Dream paints his own nails, it's very therapeutic.

as an exercise, i explored my own headcanons for Dream in this verse in a word doc, and one thing i will share from it that you might find interesting: If I were to ever give Dream a theological values, I would describe him as a satanist. He is a physical and pragmatic person, nonconforming, and although he is introverted, he enjoys being a part of a community (he loves his band).

also found this in my notes: How Desire and Dream got along was Death making them fight it out. Hob raises an eyebrow “like in a brawl?” He couldn't imagine Desire throwing hands. “No, in a pillow fight that escalated in hair pulling and verbal taunts.”

fic writer asks

[analogwriting]

The Walk-in

Killer x gn!reader (amab edition) word count: 4.2k afab vers. a/n: i got this idea from a revelation i had about how im pretty sure every walk-in in every restaurant ever has been boned in at least once. my source to site is me bc ive been working in the food industry since i was, like, 12. also guapo means 'handsome' in spanish.

“Oh my god, y/n, have you seen the new cook?” Your best friend, Wire, spoke up from behind the bar. He was currently wiping it down, preparing for the rush that would be starting soon. 

You were bussing tables when he spoke up, you paused, walking over to him and tossing the rag over your shoulder. “I haven't. Isn't he a friend of the owner’s son or something?”

“Yeah. Met him in college.”

“Ah. Friend hire.” You made a face, causing Wire to laugh. He knows how much you weren't a fan of people being hired just because they knew someone who worked there - especially when it came to the owner. “They never last.” You shook your head. 

“Oh, c'mon. I heard his cooking is great.”

You raised an eyebrow as you went back to wiping down tables. “Biased opinions, probably. Of course they're gonna say his cooking is great. But good cooking isn’t everything in this line of work. You and I both know that.”

Wire had a thoughtful look on his face as he nodded. “That's true.” There'd been plenty of instances where a good cook was hired, but they couldn't deal with the rush or crazy customers. None of them would last through the night. “He seems like he'll hold well.”

You snorted, standing up and folding your arms across your chest. “That's what you said about the last guy.” You rolled your eyes with a grin. The poor sap didn't last half an hour. 

“I was being optimistic?” You snorted and shook your head. “Oh sure. Optimistic.”

“I'm sure he'll become overwhelmed and leave within the hour.” That was your bet. You didn't usually expect much from newcomers, especially friend hires. 

“Wow, not even giving me a real shot, huh?” A deep voice came up from behind you. A shiver ran down your spine - not from fear, but from the sheer attractiveness his voice had. Oh shit.

You turned around and the air left your lungs as the most beautiful and sexy man stood behind you. You blinked, trying to find words to say but your brain wasn't fully caught up with the situation. Holy shit, this was the finest man you'd ever seen in your life. 

“You must be the head server with the high expectations then.” You opened your mouth to say something - only for nothing to come out. You glared over at Wire who held his hands up in surrender with a shit eating grin on his face. He knew that this man was exactly your type and chose to retain that information. 

A sly grin spread across the cook's face. “Cat got your tongue? Where'd all that barking go?” 

Your eyes widened, one of them twitching. Oh, he had a mouth on him too. It was on. 

Finally, your brain caught up. It'd felt like eternity, but it was only a few seconds. You folded your arms across your chest, an unimpressed look crossing your features. “I believe I am giving you a chance, just don't have high hopes. Can’t in this line of work - takes a special breed.” 

You looked him up and down. Fuck, he was fine as hell. “Anyway. They say you're a good cook. The customers will be the judge of that. That's not all, however. Where most people fumble is service itself. Always ends up being too much for people - too busy.” 

Then your brain circled back to what he had said earlier. “And of course I have high expectations. I only want what's best for this place and I don't need people wasting mine or my coworkers time.” 

The man before you just had an amused look on his face as he watched you. That irritated the shit out of you for reasons you couldn’t specify at the moment. “Don't worry, I won't be wasting anyone's time. I assure you, I won't be going anywhere either. You better get used to me now,” he crooned, leaning in as he spoke.

Your eyes narrowed at him. You wanted to punch him in his smug little face. “I've had plenty like you, too. Big talk. Think they'll last. Usually, they're the quickest to leave. Honestly, I’m being generous with an hour.” 

He chuckled, straightening back out. “We'll see when I'm still here after rush then, huh? If I stick it out, which I will, what do I get for winning the bet?”

The sheer audacity of this man. You stared at him, but didn't hesitate in your answer. “A job, duh.” You rolled your eyes. “I don't have time for this. I have a floor to prep.”

The cook laughed. It was one of the most beautiful sounds you ever heard. Damn, you must just be horny. It had been a while since you've gotten laid, but you also had a rule of never sleeping with your coworkers. You didn't knock others for doing it, you just didn't personally. You felt it made things complicated - though you were also an overthinker. Too many what ifs. What if it didn’t work out? What if you hated working together? What if you spent too much time together? What if, what if, what if?

“I'll see you after dinner rush then.” He winked at you and your heart almost stopped. Jesus fuck, you were down bad for a man you wanted to strangle. He walked off, leaving you standing there with Wire. You watched him leave, admiring his fat ass as he left before you turned back to your best friend.

He burst into laughter and you narrowed your eyes. “You're the worst, you know that?” That caused him to laugh harder. “Oh my god. I was just waiting for the moment for the part where you both just tear off each other's clothes and start going at each other right there, holy shit.”

Your face immediately warmed up. “Shut up, Wire. No one asked you.” You folded your arms across your chest with a frown. “You could've fucking warned me he was hotter ‘n hell.” 

Wire laughed again. “And miss the look on your face? That was priceless. I've never seen you be so taken aback before. The great y/n rendered speechless by the new cook.”

“Don't call him the new cook. He's gotta prove himself first.”

Another chuckle came from your best friend and he shook his head. You sighed, looking in the direction said man had left.

“What are you thinking about now?”

“How it's a shame he's not a baker with all that cake he's got. And how I wouldn't mind him icing mine.” Wire burst into laughter again and you just shook your head, clicking your tongue. “Too bad he won't last.”

Your attention shifted to the customers that walked in and you headed over to greet them. 

--

Rush was busier than usual. It was always insane, but it was even more so tonight. This was something you usually lived for, the chaos of the floor. It kept things interesting and helped time fly by. Slow nights drove you insane, which is why you were always scheduled the busiest nights too. Plus, you were insanely good at your job.

Being head server, your main job was just making sure that things were going out on time, keeping tabs on your servers, and taking care of any customer issues. You were technically a manager, yes, but you liked the title of head server better.

However, you could feel eyes on you all night. Yes, that's typically normal considering you're a server, but this was different. You also knew exactly who the culprit was. The new fucking cook. Every time you headed to the back or to the window, his eyes were on you. You'd glance at him, catching him red handed. 

Only, he didn't look away like most people. He kept his stare, only offering up a grin and the occasional wink as he cooked. Your body heated up every time, flustered that he was so casual.  Your mind was running wild with what you wanted him to do to you. You tried to keep yourself busy, but the growing heat across your whole body was making it hard. 

You tried to lie to yourself, saying it was because rush was busier than usual and you were running around even more. Every time you finally started calming down, he seemed to appear out of nowhere with his stupid smile, sending you into a spiral again. 

You could honestly punch him, that might just solve your problems. He was aggravating in every sense of the word. His cocky attitude was getting to you, making you even crabbier than you already had been. You were trying your best not to take it out on your fellow servers or the customers. It was fine for the most part. 

After rush, you asked another server to cover the one table you had left so you could take a minute. You immediately beelined it to the walk in. You flung the door open, unbuttoning your shirt a few times as you entered. You closed your eyes, listening to the hum of the fans keeping it cool, and taking a deep breath as you fanned yourself with your hand.

Then the door opened, revealing the new guy. Someone mentioned his name was Killer. Funny. You wonder how he ended up with a stupid nickname like that. 

You glared at him as the smug smile spread across his face. Unfortunately, you knew he didn't end up leaving. His eyes being glued to you all night constantly reminded you that he had proven you wrong. He actually had done pretty well and the customers seemed to enjoy his cooking. He'd be sticking around as long as he wanted now - the job was his. Which also meant you had to deal with the fact that you were going to have to see him almost every day. 

“Guess you're stuck with me now, huh?”

“What are you even here for? Just to bother me?” You were in a foul mood and it was all his fault. You weren’t in the mood for his cocky attitude or ‘I told you so’ right now.

“Well, I originally came back here to grab something but now I don't even remember what it was supposed to be now that you're in front of me looking like that.”

You looked down at yourself, confused. “What? Gonna make fun of me?” You were disheveled and hot, your skin flushed in some places. 

“No. You actually look really good like that.” A lazy smile appeared on his face as he folded his arms and leaned against the shelves. What the hell was he doing?

You could feel your body growing warmer despite the cooler air being blown at you. “The hell is your fucking angle? You've been staring all night and now you’re saying weird shit.” 

He blinked, raising his eyebrows. “And here I thought I was being obvious.” 

You stared at him for a moment as your head spun. What did- oh. Your eyes widened slightly and his grin grew. “Now you got it.”

Though, he didn't have much time to say anything else before you essentially pounced on him. You couldn't take it anymore, he'd been riling you up all night and you were at your wits end. And he was here, basically telling you to screw him. Actually, literally. 

You had walked over, grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and kissed him hard. He grinned into you, wrapping his arms around you. “Finally,” he mumbled. 

You shook your head. “Don't let your big mouth ruin it.” He just laughed before kissing you again, patting your ass. You took the hint, hopping up and wrapping your legs around him. He held you with ease, hands firmly on your ass as he pinned you to the shelves. He squeezed you hard, making a small whine escape your lips. 

Your own hands pressed against his chest before pausing. You felt something through his shirt. “Oh my god - are your nipples pierced?” You had never moved faster than you were right now as you undid his shirt. 

He blinked in confusion at your sudden shift of attention, disoriented and a little pouty that you pulled away like you did.

You opened his shirt and, lo and behold, piercings. Your eyebrow raised and a grin spread across your face. “Now, that's hot as hell,” you mused as you ran your hands across his broad chest and piercings, tugging at them a bit.  You heard his breathing sharply hitch and you looked at him with a grin.

You squirmed out of his arms, making him look at you with a confused expression. You placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him backwards and guiding him essentially. He tripped, falling back into a few sacks of onions. He looked up at you as you slowly straddled him. “You’re gonna learn why I run the place tonight, guapo.” 

Before he could ask you what that meant, you kissed him. Your hands found their way to his chest again, groping and squeezing him. He let out a few grunts in response, clearly enjoying himself. His hands found their way to your ass, squeezing roughly. You groaned against him, your head spinning.

You felt his hands move from your ass to your thighs, squeezing there too before they found their way to your waistband. It wasn’t long before he had your pants undone and your cock out. Part of you was glad you wore your comfy pants, easier to move around. 

When the cold hair touched your cock, your breathing hitched as it twitched in his hand. “Fuck,” you mumbled. 

Your head dropped down to his shoulder as he began to stroke your cock. A shiver ran down your spine from finally being touched by him. You’d been imagining it all night and you honestly couldn’t wait to get to the actual railing part. You planned on riding him like no tomorrow.

He removed his hand from your cock, causing you to whine in protest. “Patience,” he crooned, earning a glare from you. He just smiled at you, kissing you so soft and in a way that caught you off guard. It gave him leeway to spin you around and bend you over, pressing you into the floor. You yelped at the sudden movement and him pulling your pants down just enough to expose your ass to him.

“You fuckin- fuck.” Whatever insult you were going to say completely derailed as you felt one of his thick fingers slide into you with ease. He must’ve used your own precum to slick up his own fingers. You didn’t even realize that’s what he had been doing.

You sank to your knees, ass in the air as he worked you. Fuck, you didn’t like not being the one in control. It was a whole different feeling. You’d need to regain control but-

Your thoughts were interrupted as he inserted another one. Damn, his fingers were thick and drove you inside as they moved about inside of you. He worked you as if he’d done it a million times before - as if stretching you was something he did every day. You hadn’t pegged him for a whore but maybe he was, you didn’t know. Nor did you care that much.

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes rolling back as you felt the third one make its way inside of you. He pumped his fingers in and out of you before you suddenly felt his other hand wrap around your cock. Your eyes widened at the sudden double sided attack you were facing. A loud moan erupted from you as pleasure began to make your body really buzz. You wouldn’t last long at this point.

And you didn’t. It wasn’t long after he started his assault that you came hard, making a mess on the floor below - gonna have to clean that up later. He removed his hands from you, making you shiver as you were suddenly left empty. Fuck, what the hell was that about?

You weren’t about to let him have the upperhand again. You pushed yourself off the ground despite still being a bit disoriented from your high. You looked behind you, another shiver running down your spine. He looked down at you like you were his last meal on death row. Or like an apex predator that hasn’t eaten in weeks and you were a juicy antelope or something. The wild look in his eye made your heart race with excitement.

“Pull your dick out,” you instructed. He blinked at your sudden demand, but he didn’t hesitate. Your eyes widened as you saw the sheer size of him, but you also knew you could take it. You had plenty of toys that size - you just weren't expecting someone to actually have that size of cock. 

“Too big for you? Wouldn’t be the first time.” That smug smile spread across his face and you had half the mind to just walk off, leaving him to his own devices. You were too horny for that though. You needed his dick in you right now.

“What did I say about your mouth,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.

You moved, pressing yourself against the thick head. You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. As he made his way inside of you, you began panting as he stretched your insides to the max. He was throbbing inside of you and you were throbbing around him. You could already feel your legs numbing with pleasure. Fuck, you were going to feel this tomorrow - and it was your double day. Awesome. You really were great at thinking ahead.

You were thinking about a head alright. 

All your stupid thoughts went out the window as you felt Killer bottom out. He was completely inside of you now and you felt utterly full. You were panting heavily, as was he. Even being in the cooler, both of you were also sweating a considerable deal.

After a few moments of catching your breath, you began to move - slow at first, trying to find a good rhythm. You heard him grumbling about wanting to go faster. “If you wanted it your way, you shouldn’t have acted like a smartass,” you said. You were in control now and you were going to remind him of that.

Oh, how very wrong you were.

“Punish a smartass? I can do that.” 

Before you could even process what he said, you felt him place his hands on the bottoms of your thighs before pulling your legs up and locking his hands behind your head. Was he really going to full nelson you right here in the fucking walk-in? 

If someone opened the door right now, you’d be on display for everyone to see. Oh dear sweet Jesus, that somehow made everything hotter.

“I-” You weren’t even able to form a single word before he was absolutely using you. He pistoned his hips, slamming in and out of you - your own dick bouncing around. His cock dragged along your insides, hitting all the right spots in the process. Your head was spinning and your moans were loud despite your best attempts to quiet them. You just hoped the cooler was loud enough to muffle the noise enough. Walk-ins canceled out a lot of noise but they weren't completely soundproof. 

Then you heard it. The click that signaled someone was opening the door. You scrambled quickly, but felt yourself being hoisted up inside as Killer stood up. He moved, heading to the part where the shelving stopped and the wall dipped in a little. It was the perfect little nook for hooking up. Why you didn’t start there, you weren’t sure.

He moved quickly, pressing you against the wall before pressing as close to you as he could to hide himself from view as well. Only when he did that, he shoved himself so deep inside of you so suddenly, you felt him slam into that sweet spot that made your vision go white for a moment and ecstasy flooded your body as you climaxed, making a mess of the wall before you. You inhaled but before you could make too much noise, his hand covered your mouth, muffling your noises right as the person walked in. 

Your head was spinning and you were struggling to keep it together. “Find them?” you heard someone call. The door must’ve still been open. 

“No! I could’ve sworn I saw Killer come back here.”

“Same. I thought I saw y/n.” A sigh could be heard.

“I wonder where they went.”

“Wherever it is, they’re probably shagging.”

“Probably not. Y/n is very against sleeping with their coworkers. We all know this.”

“Wire thinks otherwise and no one knows them better. Not to mention the insane sexual tension from dinner. It was painful to watch.” 

If you weren’t about to explode at the moment, you would’ve been offended - maybe even said something. The only thing you wanted right now was them to leave so that Killer could fucking finish fucking you. You could deal with everything later. You didn’t care about what was being said.

Finally, the two of them left. Killer let out a sigh of relief. “I didn’t think they’d ever leave,” he said before slowly removing his hand from your mouth. You fell into a small coughing fit.

“Are you-”

“I swear to fuck, if you don’t finish what you started, I’m going to lose my marbles.”

Killer looked surprised for a moment before that stupid, smug smile was back. “Yes, boss.” You rolled your eyes but the attitude didn’t last very long as his hands gripped your hips and he started going to town once again.

Your nails dug into the metal walls of the cooler, your body both hot and cold. You were moaning and whining, not even caring if you were heard at this point. Your entire body was buzzing with pleasure. The fact that you’d already came twice and was more than likely going to a third time? You might just pass out from the euphoria of it all. 

The line cook’s movements grew more desperate and erratic. You knew he wasn’t going to be lasting much longer and neither were you. Both of you were making enough noise and with the skin slapping on top of it, there was no way the cooler was masking all of it.

He slammed inside of you one final time, sending both of you over the edge. You came all over the wall again, knowing you were probably going to have to scrub the damn place at this point. You shivered as he filled you up to the brim and then some, feeling it trickle down your leg.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, panting heavily as you recovered. After some time, Killer straightened up, slowly pulling out of you. With how oversensitive you were right now, it almost riled you up again. When he pulled out, another shiver racked your body as you were suddenly left empty. 

You heard him shuffle himself around before moving to help you. You turned around, looking at him.  “Are you alright?”

At this point, you weren’t sure - still on cloud nine. “I think I’ll be fine.” You stretched a bit, wincing slightly. “Tomorrow’s gonna suck though.” 

“I can cover for you.”

You looked at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “No offense, but I think you’d be a shit server. Completely different vibe from cooking.” 

He frowned. “And here I thought shagging you would take the attitude out of you.” 

You raised a brow, putting your hands on your hips. “Is that what you thought? Sorry, this isn’t something that comes from needing to be laid. I’m just always a bitch - personality trait.” You shrugged, retying your apron. You fixed yourself up before looking over at Killer. You snorted, buttoning his shirt back up.

“Looks like I’ll just have to try again.” A smug smile appeared on his face and you looked at him, a smile tugging on the corners of your own. “You can try as many times as you want, loverboy. It ain’t happening.” 

“I’ll ice that cake anytime.” Your eyes widened at his words and he laughed. “Yeah, I heard your little baker comment earlier. So you like my ass?” He winked, making your face turn red. “Fix your hair,” you mumbled. “Make it look less obvious we just boned.”

“Yes, boss.”

You rolled your eyes, flinging the walk-in door open to reveal several of your coworkers standing there. Wire grinned widely, a smug look on his face. “Everyone owes me twenty bucks.” There were collective groans. “No one knows our head server better than me, you should’ve known better than to bet against me.” He shook his head, holding his hand out as everyone forked over money. 

“But they literally never sleep with anyone that works here ever,” someone protested, pouting.

“Wait - does that mean they were in there boning when we…?”

You knew right then and there - you were never going to hear the end of this.

[doumadono]

Emergency request!

I was wondering if you could write a qpr fic with Bakugou. It's rare for me to see any qpr related fics so Ive been going around asking for them. I find huge comfort in unlabled love.

A/N: I appreciate your request, and I understand the importance of portraying a QPR accurately. However, I must admit that I'm not entirely familiar with QPRs, and this is my first attempt at writing about it. I'm willing to give it a try, but I can't guarantee that it will meet your expectations

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

One cool evening, as the sun dipped below the city skyline, you and Bakugou decided to escape from the chaos of the city for a quiet night in the outskirts, at a cozy cabin nestled in a dense forest. This retreat was your secret sanctuary, away from the prying eyes and the constant struggles of the hero world.

The two of you had been friends for years, and your connection had grown stronger and deeper with each passing day. You'd both learned to rely on each other in ways that words couldn't define.

The cabin was warm and inviting, the fire crackling in the fireplace casting dancing shadows on the walls. You sat on a plush couch, wrapped in a soft, knitted blanket. Bakugo was in the kitchen, preparing a homemade meal for both of you.

He emerged from the kitchen with two steaming bowls of hearty stew, a crooked grin on his face. "Eat up, doll," he said, setting the bowls on the coffee table. "It's supposed to be comforting."

You thanked him, and as you savored the delicious, soul-warming meal, you couldn't help but feel the warmth of your relationship with Bakugo enveloping you. He sat down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. "Ya know," he began, his voice softer than usual, "I've always felt something different with you. It's not the usual fucking crap, that's for sure. But whatever it is, it's just important. It's us."

You smiled at his words. "I feel the same way, Katsuki. We don't need labels to define what we have. It's genuine and deep, and that's all that matters."

Bakugo nodded, his crimson eyes meeting yours, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Exactly," he stated, his voice filled with genuine love. "We've got something special, and I'm not letting any-fucking-one mess with it."

The evening continued with the two of you talking, and simply enjoying each other's company. It wasn't just about the words you exchanged - it was the depth of those conversations. The two of you shared stories, dreams, and fears in a way that went beyond the ordinary. You were each other's confidants, and you felt safe sharing your innermost thoughts, knowing they would be met with understanding and empathy.

"You know, I never thought I'd find someone who understands me like you do. It's like we're two sides of the same coin." He reached over to take your hand, his grip reassuring as he brought your palm to his lips, placing a tiny kiss to its top.

"What we share is so magical. Special and one-of-a-kind," you gently touched his cheek, caressing it with your thumb.

"I've got your back, always."

"And I've got yours, Katsuki."

Bakugo was always fiercely protective of you, but in this moment, he was also incredibly gentle. He held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you, offering you the comfort and warmth you had longed for. From time to time he was planting a soft kiss to your cheek or temple, sometimes he rubbed his nose against yours.

Some time later, Bakugo leaned in, his lips barely brushing yours. "You mean so much to me," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. With those words, he closed the gap, and your lips met in a gentle, slow kiss. It was a kiss filled with affection, a silent declaration of the love that flowed between you. Bakugo's lips were rough against yours, yet his touch was tender.

The kiss deepened, but not in a passionate or hurried way. It was a slow exploration of each other's emotions, a gentle dance of affection that conveyed the depth of your unique connection. His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb caressing it softly while his tongue danced in the unison with yours.

Pulling away slightly, Bakugo rested his forehead against yours. "I'm glad we found each other," he murmured, his eyes filled with warmth.

As the evening turned into night, and the cabin grew quiet, you both settled into a comfortable silence, content in the presence of each other. The fire in the fireplace had dwindled to embers, casting a soft glow on your faces.

With a heartfelt sigh, Bakugo whispered, "This, right here, is all I need. You."

You turned to him, your eyes meeting his. "You're all I need too, Katsuki."

In that moment, you both knew that words couldn't fully capture the depth of your unlabelled love. Labels didn't matter when you had each other, a connection that was unique and boundless. It was a love filled with comfort, understanding, friendship, and an unspoken promise to always be there for each other, no matter what challenges the hero world or life itself threw your way.

As you closed your eyes, wrapped in Bakugo's embrace, you knew that this relationship was a rare and beautiful treasure that you wouldn't trade for anything in the world.