#i need to ho through and actually look at all the music i like and make a list of what all falls into the ‘overarching story’ category

[majorshatterandhare]

It is very obvious to me that I like music that tells stories. (ALL music tells stories. Every song tells a story.) I like concept albums, I like musicals.

Therefore I find it very funny both that my favorite Mech’s album is one of the two that don’t have an overarching story *and* that my favorite My Chem album is the one that doesn’t have an overarching story.

[lemmesayimyourbiggestfan]

hi !! how about jun ho x reader where on halloween in s2 when he was supposed to be helping gi-hun and the others track down the front man, he finds reader is actually at the bar partying with friends and is super drunk getting hit on and touched by someone else so he has to decide between helping gi-hun or reader??

Lucky

Hwang Jun-ho x reader

oh, I loved writing this! I feel like it’s so refreshing to read a sg fanfic not taking place in the games, hope you like it as much as I do!

Word count: 0,7k

Warnings: none

requests are open!

Nothing was going as planned. Not only was he not supposed to enter the bar at all but Jun-ho also didn’t expect you to be there. Just when he was frantically trying to wake up his knocked out colleague at the bar, he saw you, neon lights reflecting in your hair, eyes dreamily squinted, hips swinging to the beat.

It’s been a while since you two saw each other. About three years. But Jun-ho felt the wound of your breakup more than ever as he was staring at you longingly, seeing you so free and happy. That’s what he wanted you to be. But a part of him, a stupid and selfish part, was still yearning for your company.

When Jun-ho began the search for his brother In-ho, he didn’t want to bother you with it at all. All he needed was your warm embrace when he got back home from another useless day of searching. But as things got more serious, he knew there were only two ways how to handle your relationship - either endanger you but have you by his side through it all or ensure your safety by letting you go.

And although he sometimes still woke up at night, scared and alone, reaching for the ghost of your hand, he knew he did the right thing. As much as it was killing him.

His phone vibrated - Gi-hun’s location changed to the alleyway next to the bar. With a sigh, Jun-ho was about to spare you a last look before turning away but he froze in place, blood turning cold. That was a stranger’s arm around your waist. And although you looked drunk enough, the tension in your body seemed to scream that the man definitely wasn’t your boyfriend.

Before he knew what he was doing, Jun-ho turned off his intercom and rolled up his sleeves as he pushed his way through the crowd. Without a thought, he gripped the guy’s collar, tearing him off of you.

���Hey!!” he screamed angrily, hands forming into fists. Before he got the opportunity to fight him, Jun-ho punched him in the throat, feeling satisfied as the man fell on the ground, wheezing for air while grasping his neck.

You just stared at Jun-ho, shock visible in your features.

“Jun-ho?” you whispered, the sound lost to the music. He could only stare at how your lips mouthed his name, something he never thought he would behold again.

“Y/N,” he mouthed back, a sad smile forming on his lips. He felt tears welling behind his eyes but fought hard to not let you see them. He caused you a lot of pain many years ago, the least he could do was feign that he got over you.

In your drunken state, he shouldn’t have been surprised that you immediately grabbed his hands. “Jun-ho…” you said again and for a second he thought it might have been a prayer coming off of your lips. He was yours, right then, right there. He would crawl for you, weep for you, do anything for you. And then he felt your warm hands squeeze his and he just couldn’t function anymore. His heart was beating furiously, beating for you only.

And then you started weeping. You came closer, throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him tightly into the embrace as your body shook with heartbreaking sobs.

“Don’t cry sweetheart.” Jun-ho said into your hair, holding the back of your head in one hand, the small of your back in the other. He felt his own tears rolling down his cheeks, determined to keep them hidden from you. The smell of you was driving him insane as it was all those years ago - apparently, you still used the expensive perfume he used to buy you whenever you ran out of it.

“Just so you know,” you sobbed into his shoulder. “I come here every week only because I hope you’ll somehow be here.” With that you pulled away, searching for something in his expression. “Pathetic, right?” you added self consciously, laughing nervously at yourself.

“I thought I was too late,” Jun-ho said, leaning his forehead against yours. To hell with everything else. He had you right at that moment all for himself and you were all that mattered. “I’ve loved you for so long, Y/N, all those years we spent apart but I thought-“

“You are late,” you clarified, a smile spreading across your features, tears still running down that perfect face. “But lucky for you, Jun-ho, I’ve been waiting.”

Oh, he was lucky indeed.

[hottiesforhockey]

ho, ho, hoe ⎜m.barzal

🎄pairings: mat barzal x afab!reader 🎄genre: romance ⎜christmas special ⎜smut ⎜friends to lovers⎜ 🎄warnings: mat is in love and not great at hiding it ⎜alcohol consumption ⎜ drunk sex ⎜missionary ⎜p in v⎜pretty vanilla overall ⎜ marking/hickeys⎜ just a dude in love ⎜awkward love confessions ⎜very minimal smut tbh ⎜ 🎄synopsis: an accidental christmas hook up, becomes so much more when your hoe of a best friend catches feelings. 🎄word count: 5.2k 🎄authors note:  this is my first of several christmas fics - there will not be a part 2 but I hope you all enjoy!! christmas fic list

(unedited)

“Come on, you promised,” Mat said, his voice teasing as he nudged you out of the car. “It’s one party. You’ll survive.”

You glared at him, tightening your coat against the icy December air. “You ambushed me. I never said yes.”

“Details.” His smirk deepened, and you hated how easily it chipped away at your resolve. “Besides, you’ve been sulking at home for two weeks. Consider this an intervention. No one should be this much of a Grinch in December.”

It was impossible to argue with Mat Barzal. You’d learned that years ago. He had a way of wrapping his words in charm and layering them with just enough humour to get his way. It didn’t help that his ridiculous good looks made you forget you were supposed to be mad at him.

Mat was your best friend—the kind of friend who’d been there through every bad breakup, every celebration, every boring Tuesday night when all you needed was a movie marathon and pizza. He was also, as you liked to call him, a professional-grade hoe. Always flirting, always texting someone new, always shamelessly charming his way into trouble.

So, of course, it was Mat who had dragged you to this Christmas party. And of course, he’d conveniently forgotten to mention that the guest list included a suspicious number of his teammates, their dates, and not many people you actually knew.

You tugged your itchy sweater down and shot him a glare. “If this is your idea of a fun Friday night, I’m starting to question our friendship.”

“You’ll thank me later.” He slung an arm over your shoulder, steering you toward the door. “Trust me, you’re gonna have a great time.”

What Mat didn’t say—and wouldn’t dare admit—was that he’d spent weeks working up the nerve to do this. To spend more time with you outside the cozy bubble of friendship. To finally figure out if the feelings he’d been burying for years were one-sided or if maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way.

But Mat was a coward when it came to you. A hoe, sure. But only because it was easier to flirt with strangers than risk what you had.

Inside, the party was in full swing. Twinkling lights strung across the room, the faint scent of pine and cider in the air, and a playlist that was just loud enough to drown out awkward small talk.

Mat stayed close, his hand brushing yours as you made your way through the crowd. He didn’t miss the way you wrinkled your nose at the chaos, and his grin softened. “Alright, Scrooge. Let’s get you a drink.”

You let him pull you toward the kitchen, rolling your eyes. “I don’t know why you’re so insistent on dragging me out like this. Don’t you have ten other girls you could be charming right now?”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, so brief you almost missed it. “Maybe I like spending time with you.”

The words hung between you, light but heavy, before he quickly added, “Besides, no one else would put up with your terrible attitude about Christmas.” You laughed, and Mat felt the tension ease, though the knot in his chest didn’t loosen. 

One day, he thought. 

One day he’d tell you the truth.

The kitchen was quieter than the rest of the party, the hum of conversation and Christmas music muffled by the thick walls. Mat handed you a cup of something that smelled strongly of peppermint schnapps and took a long sip of his own.

“This is terrible,” you said after a cautious taste, wrinkling your nose.

Mat grinned. “It’s festive.”

“It tastes like someone melted a candy cane into rubbing alcohol.”

“Exactly.” He raised his cup in a mock toast. “Happy holidays.”

You clinked cups with him, rolling your eyes. Typical Mat—always the life of the party, always ready with a sarcastic comment or a sly grin to keep you on your toes. You couldn’t help but smile as he leaned back against the counter, his dark hair slightly messy and his cheeks already flushed from the heat of the room.

“So,” he said, tilting his head toward you. “Having fun yet?”

“I’ll let you know when it starts.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar, and you couldn’t help but join in. It was easy to relax around Mat, even in a setting where you felt like a complete outsider.

As the night wore on, the two of you lingered in the kitchen, your drinks steadily disappearing. Mat’s stories became a little louder, his laugh a little freer, and you felt yourself loosening up too.

“Remember that time we tried to make cookies in my apartment?” he asked, his voice slightly slurred.

“How could I forget?” You grinned, leaning against the counter beside him. “You set the oven on fire.”

“It wasn’t a fire,” he protested, gesturing with his cup. “It was a… controlled open flame.”

“Your neighbours didn’t think so.”

“Yeah, well, they hated me anyway.” Mat chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But you stayed. Even when I ruined the cookies.”

“You had alcohol,” you said simply, and he laughed again, shaking his head.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice softening. “You’re always there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, but before you could respond, he downed the rest of his drink and changed the subject.

“Okay, real talk,” he said, setting his empty cup on the counter. “What’s your deal with Christmas? Why do you hate it so much?”

“I don’t hate it,” you said defensively. “I just think it’s… overrated.”

“Overrated?” He looked at you like you’d just insulted his entire family. “You’re breaking my heart over here.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s fine. It’s just not my thing.”

“Maybe you’ve been doing it wrong,” he said, his grin lopsided. “You should let me show you how it’s done.”

“And how’s that?”

“For starters…” He reached over, tugging gently at the sleeve of your overused christmas sweater. “This thing has got to go. You look like a rejected elf.”

“Excuse me?” You stared at him, mock-offended, and he burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding! Mostly.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping slightly. “You’re the only person I know who can make something that ugly look good.”

The comment sent a flutter through your chest, but you brushed it off as just another one of Mat’s usual flirtatious remarks. He was always saying things like that—half-joking, half-serious—and you’d learned not to read too much into them.

Still, as the drinks kept flowing and the night wore on, Mat’s comments started to feel… different. Softer. More pointed.

“You know,” he said at one point, “sometimes I think you don’t see yourself the way everyone else does.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, his gaze fixed on his cup. “Just that you’re… you know. Amazing. Like, actually amazing. And you don’t even realise it.”

You laughed nervously, unsure how to respond. “Okay, you’re definitely drunk.”

“Tipsy, maybe,” he admitted, a crooked grin on his face. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” Before you could press him further, someone burst into the kitchen, dragging Mat into a conversation about hockey and leaving you standing there, your mind buzzing as much from his words as from the alcohol.

As the night wound down, you found yourself back where you started—leaning against the counter, your cup nearly empty, with Mat by your side. The party had thinned out, voices from the living room fading into a low hum. 

He was quieter now, his usual spark mellowed by the weight of the night and whatever thoughts had been lingering behind his lopsided smile.

“You’re staring,” you teased, breaking the silence.

“Am I?” His lips quirked up, but he didn’t look away. “Maybe I’ve just got a lot to think about.”

“You need a brain for that” You hoped your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

He hesitated, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the countertop. “Like how you’re still here,” he said finally. “When you could’ve bailed hours ago. But you didn’t.”

“Maybe I’m a sucker for bad holiday parties,” you joked, but the warmth in his gaze made your chest tighten.

“Or maybe,” he said, stepping just a little closer, “you like spending time with me as much as I like spending time with you.”

It was the kind of thing he’d say all the time, casual and easy, except now there was something behind it. Something that made the air between you feel heavier. Charged.

Maybe it was the alcohol? 

Or maybe it was something you had been feeling all night - a shift. 

“Mat,” you began, but the words caught in your throat when his hand brushed against yours, tentative and testing.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and serious now. “And I will.”

You didn’t. 

You couldn’t.

 Instead, you closed the space between you, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt to pull him down into a kiss. It wasn’t careful or calculated—just instinct, like you’d been waiting for this moment longer than you cared to admit.

His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and for once, the rest of the world didn’t matter. Not the bad music, not the overplayed holiday cheer, not even the fact that anyone could walk in at any second.

“Guess the party’s starting now,” he said breathlessly when you finally broke apart, his forehead resting against yours.

“Shut up,” you muttered, laughing as you pulled him back in.

Mat’s laugh rumbled softly against your lips before his hands shifted at your waist, pulling you even closer. The kiss slowed, turning into something softer, sweeter, but no less intense. His fingers traced light patterns along the curve of your back, and you found yourself melting into his touch, the rest of the room falling away entirely.

When the sound of voices drifted closer—someone coming down the hallway, loud and unsteady—you both broke apart, the spell momentarily shattered. Mat took a step back, his eyes lingering on yours, a sheepish grin playing on his lips.

“Guess we’ve got an audience incoming,” he said, nodding toward the approaching voices.

“Probably shouldn’t give them a show,” you replied, your cheeks burning. Your hands dropping to straighten out your sweater, your cheeks burning a bright red as you turn away from your friend - taking a few sobering breaths. You turn back to Mat slowly, your eyebrows lifting as you find him already staring at your, his cheeks burning as much as yours. 

“I don’t think I’m finished with tonight.” He says slowly - adding, “but I’m definitely done with this party.” His Adams apple bobbing as he watches your mind turn a hundred miles an hour. 

“Oh, well there’s a bar down the street thats usually open late.” You note, Mat’s brows furrowing as he shakes his head. 

“That’s not—,” Mat lets out a soft sigh, his smile soft on his face as he spits out, “I’m trying to ask you to come home with me.” 

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and electric, like a string pulled taut. You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly, or if the adrenaline coursing through your veins was playing tricks on you.

“Home,” you repeated slowly, testing the word on your tongue. Your voice came out softer than you intended, barely audible over the distant thrum of the party.

Mat nodded, his gaze steady but vulnerable, like he was bracing himself for the answer. “Yeah. With me.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, each beat reverberating in your ears. The room around you blurred—the noise, the decorations, the faint smell of spiked cider—and all you could focus on was the way his thumb brushed against his palm, the slight twitch of his jaw as he waited.

This wasn’t like him. Mat, the always-casual, too-cool-to-be-flustered Mat, was standing in front of you looking like his world might tilt depending on your response.

You took a breath, your pulse skipping as you leaned in just enough that your words were for him alone. “Okay,” you whispered, the weight of the decision melting into something exhilarating as you saw his grin break through.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice quieter now, carrying an edge of disbelief, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah.”

His hand found yours again, this time with more certainty, fingers lacing through yours as he gave a gentle tug. “Let’s get out of here before someone stops us.”

You followed without hesitation, weaving through the scattered crowd, ignoring the knowing glances and side comments. The cool night air hit your face the moment you stepped outside, sharp and refreshing compared to the stuffy warmth of the party. Mat didn’t let go of your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

And as he led you down the street, your hand still in his, you felt something settle in you, a kind of rightness you hadn’t expected and couldn’t deny.

The walk to Mat's place was quiet but charged, every step a wordless conversation. The city hummed around you—car engines purring in the distance, the occasional laughter spilling from a bar’s open door—but it all felt like background noise. The real energy was in the small, subtle touches: the way his fingers tightened around yours when your hands brushed, or the way he glanced at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

When you reached his building, Mat paused at the door, his free hand fishing out his keys. He hesitated, looking at you with a crooked smile, his breath visible in the cool air. “Last chance to back out,” he teased, but there was an edge of seriousness in his tone.

You rolled your eyes playfully, though your heart skipped. “Mat, if you don’t open that door in the next five seconds…”

His laugh was soft, barely louder than the jingle of the keys as he unlocked the door. “Alright, alright,” he said, pushing it open and holding it for you. “Come on in.”

The warmth of the lobby hit you immediately, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The building smelled faintly of pine—probably some festive candle someone had left at the front desk—and you followed him to the elevator, the silence between you comfortable now.

Inside the elevator, the closeness felt different. More intimate. The quiet hum of the machinery filled the space, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat. You caught Mat glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, his lips twitching like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, his thumb resumed its soft pattern against your hand, grounding you.

When the doors slid open, Mat led you down the hallway to his apartment. The tension built with each step, your stomach doing little flips as you reached his door. He unlocked it smoothly, gesturing for you to step inside first.

His place was exactly what you’d imagined—warm, lived-in, and distinctly him. The couch had a throw blanket draped messily over one arm, and a few mismatched mugs were scattered on the coffee table. String lights twinkled softly along the windows, their golden glow casting cozy shadows across the room.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said, scratching the back of his neck as he shut the door behind you.

“It’s not messy,” you replied, taking it all in. It was charming, actually, and it felt... safe. “It’s nice.”

Mat exhaled a laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he stepped closer, the space between you narrowing again. He reached out tentatively, his hand brushing your arm before sliding down to your hand.

“Still sure?” he asked, his voice quieter now, laced with something vulnerable.

You nodded, your fingers curling around his. “Still sure.”

That was all he needed. Mat pulled you in gently, his other hand finding your waist as his lips met yours. This time, there was no hesitation—no second-guessing. It was slower than before, but somehow even more consuming, like he was trying to memorise the feel of you, the way you fit against him.

One of mats hands reach up, tugging slowly on your hair scrunchie pulling it from the bun, letting your hair fall loose, his fingers playing with the strands as he leads you to his bedroom, his mouth never leaving yours as your arms loop around his neck. Mat’s lips make his way down your neck - pressing soft kisses as he tugs on the hem of your sweater, his lips only leaving your skin as he pulls the thick fabric over your head, his eyes immediately dropping down to your bra. 

“I’m about to fucking combust.” Mat groans, the two of you falling onto his mattress, your head buried among the pillows as Mat sits up on his knees, taking in the sight of you as he rips his own soft hoodie over his head, his hands reaching out for the button on your jeans. 

“God, you’re stunning.” Mat coos, as he slides your jeans down your legs, throwing them off to the side as he smoothes his hands down your body, his hands stopping at your knees as he pushes them apart, his body slotting slowly between them as he leans down to reattach his lips to your jaw - sucking harshly against the soft skin, a soft whine escaping you the blood rushing to the surface as an obvious bruise starts to form. 

“Perfect.” He whispers, against your neck as he picks a new spot and sucks again. 

“Mat.” You hiss, as his hand slowly dips in the waistband of your underwear, gently teasing your clit, his teeth skimming the skin on your neck as he pulls away. “If you don’t put your dick in me right now I swear to god.” You continue, your nails digging into his shoulders as he dips an experimental finger inside of you. 

Mat doesn’t need to be told twice as he makes quick work of his own pants, his cock painfully hard as it leaks with premium - his body leaning over your as he rifles through his bed side table. “Wrap it before you tap it.” He jokes, your hands pulling your own underwear down your legs, throwing them off to the side as you take in Mat. 

“Don’t ruin the moment.” You sigh, but your smile betrays your serious tone. You always knew the hockey player had a good body - his fitness levels beyond the average person, but seeing his stone cut figure was about to make you drool - your hands reaching out for him as he rolls the condom on his dick. 

“Tell me if you need me to stop.” He whispers as he crawls back on top of you, his body slipping perfectly between your legs, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your cheek as he lines himself up. His head dropping into the crook of your neck as he pushes in, his movements slow and purposeful as he lets you adjust with each inch. “Is this okay?” He whispers into your hair, his hips moving excruciatingly slow as he pumps himself in and out. 

He smiles as you nod, your lip trapped between your teeth as you let out a soft whimper, his hands placed on either side of your head as his movements speed up a little. “My pretty little pillow princess.” Mat coos, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair as the sound of skin on skin fills the room. 

“Fuck Mat.” You hiss as his pelvis brushes against yours, your cunt clenching around him - his hips stuttering as he lets out a low groan. 

“I’m close.” He hisses, your head nodding in agreement as your nails drag up his back tangling in soft hair, tugging lightly. 

“I need more.” You breath out, Mat eye brows furrowing as he lifts himself up slightly,  lifting a hand off the mattress, his fingers dipping between your body as he teases your clit softly. 

“Shit.” He grunt as you squeeze around him again, his orgasm being pulled from him as he bottoms out inside of you, his fingers still working on your clit until he feels you clench tighter around him, a long whine escaping you as you cum. Mat’s body falls against yours, the two of your breathing heavily as your fingers continue to scrape against his scalp, a please sigh leaving him as his body melts on top of yours. 

“Mat, I need to go to the bathroom.” You mumble, your eyes almost forcing themself closed as the heat radiating from your best friend tries to lull you to sleep. Mat lets out a grunt, lifting himself up just enough to capture your lips with his, his mouth spreading into a wide grin as he rolls off of you, discarding the condom as he lies on his back. 

“There should be your favourite stuff under the counter if you need it.” He says softly, his eyes already closing, “Come back to me quickly.” He adds, his arm thrown over his eye as his breathing evens out. 

You watch him for a few moments before dashing into his bathroom, facing the mirror as you take in your nest of hair and your flushed cheeks. “What the fuck did I do?” You sneer at your reflection, the bright red bruises on your neck sticking out like a sore thumb. You turn on the tap, using the cold water against your face before cleaning yourself up as quickly as possible, your frown deepening as you step out of the bathroom, Mat fast asleep in the bed, his body turned towards the empty space besides him. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you make your way over to the bed, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against his temple before pulling your clothes back on as escaping your best friends house. 

+

+

Three days passed quickly - your phone constantly dinging with a barrage of messages from Mat. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Your phone sat face down on the counter, Mat's unread messages and missed calls an ever-growing weight on your chest. You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t know how to face him after what had happened.

Every time you closed your eyes, you could feel his hands on you, his lips against yours. The memory of his soft laugh, the way he had asked you to come back to him—it all made your heart ache. 

You fucked your best friend. 

And then you ditched. 

What if this ruined everything? 

What if he regretted it? 

You finally pick up your phone, glaring down at the messages waiting for you;

Matty ♥️: Hey, just wanted to check in, is everything okay? 

Matty ♥️:  I know this might’ve made things awkward but maybe we should meet up and talk? 

Matty ♥️:  I know you’re reading these, please answer me. 

Matty ♥️:  I miss you. 

Fuck. 

+

+

Mat was - rightfully - going out of his mind.

 He hadn’t heard a word from you—no texts, no calls. You were ignoring him, and it was eating him alive. Every time his phone buzzed, he scrambled for it, only to find some pointless notification or a message from someone who wasn’t you.

He couldn't get the memory of your touch, your laugh, or the way you had whispered that quiet "I'm sorry" as you left his place. That had stuck with him, playing over and over in his head. 

What were you sorry for? 

Leaving? 

Crossing the line between friends? 

Or something more?

Matty ♥️: I miss you. 

His most recent text. He’d sent it hours ago. 

No response. 

Again.

“God, what did I do?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. You had been his best friend for years. He knew you inside out—or at least, he thought he did. But now, it was like there was this wall between you, and he hated it.

Mat stared at his phone, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. His apartment felt suffocating, every quiet moment filled with the phantom echoes of your laughter or the soft murmur of your voice. He could still see you everywhere—in the hoodie you had borrowed and never returned, in the stupid inside jokes you’d scribbled on his fridge, in the way his couch smelled faintly like your perfume.

The silence was driving him insane.

He stood up abruptly, pacing the length of the room. “Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair. He didn’t even hesitate as he shoved his keys into his pocket and stepped out the door.

The drive to your place was short but felt agonisingly long. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his mind racing with every possibility. 

What if you didn’t want to see him? 

What if this was it? 

What if you hated him for what happened?

But he couldn’t sit around wondering anymore. 

He needed to see you, to talk to you, to fix this—whatever this was now.

When he finally pulled up outside your building, the glow of your apartment light felt like both a taunt and a lifeline. He killed the engine and sat there for a moment, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.

What was he even going to say? Hey, sorry I ruined everything, but also, I think I might love you? That sounded pathetic, even in his head.

But before he could second-guess himself, he was out of the car and heading toward your door. His knuckles rapped against the wood before he even realised what he was doing.

Inside, you froze. The sound of his knock sent a jolt of electricity through you. You hadn’t expected him to come here—not after how you had ghosted him. Your stomach twisted with guilt and something you couldn’t quite name.

“Hey, it’s me,” his voice came through the door, quieter than you’d ever heard him sound. “I—I know I should’ve waited for you to reach out, but... I can’t. I need to talk to you.” Your heart clenched. Part of you wanted to pretend you weren’t home, to let the silence stretch on. But the other part—the part that missed him so much it hurt—had already pulled you to the door.

You hesitated, your hand hovering over the doorknob. “Mat...” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll leave if you want me to,” he said quickly, his words spilling out like a flood. “But please—just tell me what’s going on. I’m going crazy over here.”

You bit your lip, a lump rising in your throat. The wall you’d been trying so hard to build was crumbling, and you didn’t know how to stop it. Slowly, you unlocked the door and opened it, just enough to see him standing there, his expression a mix of hope and heartbreak.

The sight of him made your chest tighten. “Mat...” you said again, your voice trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, taking a small step closer. “For whatever I did, for whatever I said that made you leave. But you—you can’t just disappear on me like this. I need to know if we’re okay.”

And there it was. The question you had been avoiding. The answer you weren’t sure you even had.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, everything else fell away.

“Are we?” you asked softly, your voice breaking on the words.

His brow furrowed, his gaze searching yours. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “But I want us to be.”

And just like that, the ache in your chest spilled over, and the tears you’d been holding back finally came.

Mat’s expression softened immediately at the sight of your tears. His hand twitched like he wanted to reach for you, but he held back, unsure if you’d let him. Instead, he just stood there, the weight of your silence filling the small space between you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the emotion. “I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to...” You trailed off, shaking your head as more tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer, his hesitation melting away. “You don’t have to apologise. I just—I’ve been losing my mind not knowing what you’re thinking. If I pushed you too far, if I—”

“It’s not that,” you interrupted, your voice firm despite the tears. “It’s not you, Mat. It’s me. I... what if we made the wrong choice?”

That stopped him. His brows knit together as he studied you, his confusion clear. 

You sucked in a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “What if we ruined everything? What if things will never go back to how they were before? You’re my best friend, Mat, and I don’t—” Your voice broke again, and you bit your lip hard, willing yourself to keep it together.

His eyes widened slightly, something soft and vulnerable flickering across his face. “You think I don’t feel the same way?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “I don’t know,” you admitted, the words barely audible. “I don’t know what to think. I just know I can’t lose you.”

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as his gaze dropped to the floor. “You’re not gonna lose me,” he said finally, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “But, God, you’ve got to stop running away from me. From this.”

“I don’t know how,” you confessed, your voice trembling.

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with something that made your chest tighten. “Then talk to me.”

Before you could say anything, he closed the distance between you, his hands finding yours with a gentleness that made your breath hitch. He held them tightly, grounding you in the moment.

“I don’t regret what happened,” he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “Not for a second. And if you think for one minute that I’d let that ruin what we have, then you don’t know me as well as you think.”

His words hit you like a wave, crashing over the fear and uncertainty that had been suffocating you. You searched his face, looking for any trace of doubt, but all you found was sincerity.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he admitted, his voice soft but unwavering. “But I’m not scared of ruining what we had because what if I want something more?” He pauses taking in a deep breath, “What if I want you?” 

The tears came faster now, but they felt different—lighter, freer. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. Instead, you did the only thing that felt right.

You stepped closer, your hands slipping from his to cup his face, and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed or frantic like the first time. It was slow and tender, filled with everything you hadn’t been able to put into words.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard. “Don’t run away again,” he whispered, his voice shaky, “Please.” 

“I won’t,” you promised, your voice steady this time. “I won’t.”

[leia-writes]

hi! i had a dream about this recently and was wondering if it would be anything you'd be interested in writing :)

it starts off with the reader and in-ho going through a really rough break up but they still have feelings for each other. right before the s2 games started, in-ho went to a bar and saw reader there and her job is to perform live music, so she sings about in-ho and their breakup, not realizing that he was actually there

Maybe You'll Be There

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: maybe you'll be there by etta jones

note: thank you so much for your request!!

warnings: angst

word count: 2,678

posted on: 1/22/2025

“Get out.”

You glared through teary eyes at In-ho, who was standing in the middle of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. He sighed and dropped his arms in frustration, a few petals and leaves falling to the floor.

“I said I was sorry. I really am.”

“How many times have I heard that? You’re a broken record at this point.” You turned away from him and began cleaning up your kitchen. It took everything in your power not to break down crying right then, but you were just so tired of doing this with him. 

“I know. I messed up again. I’m sorry. Please.”

You sighed, dropping a glass into the sink. It clattered noisily as you turned towards In-ho. “Please what? Please forgive you for the thousandth time? Please forget how you ignore me whenever something important happens for me? Please let you play with my emotions?”

He stood there silently, trying to mask the shame spreading across his face.

“Which one, In-ho?”

He clenched his jaw, looking away from you. He still wouldn’t say anything. With every passing second he was silent you could feel your heart breaking even more.

You scoffed. “That’s what I thought. Get out.”

He gave you one last look, tears starting to form in his eyes. You’d never seen him cry, never even close to it. You wanted so badly to run to him, but you had to be strong this time.

You watched him as he set your flowers down on the table and walked to your door. He looked at you once again. For a brief moment you hoped he would say something, anything to make it right again.

Instead, he left, closing the door behind him.

~~~

You cried in bed that entire night. It was supposed to be a good day - you had just performed a full-blown concert all by yourself for the first time ever. Even though you worked for a very dark and secretive organization, you always made it a priority to pursue your passion for music. As time went on, you started gaining a reputation for being an outstanding jazz singer, and you found yourself wanting to move on from your high-stress job and live a more normal life.

After winning the squid games you participated in a couple years earlier, you soon found yourself working for the same organization alongside In-ho. Despite his cold exterior, you got along well. You had been dating almost a year before you started running into problems.

In-ho worked as the Front Man for a while before you joined him. You had only been working with him for a couple years, and you didn’t really have the same connection to that place like In-ho had. You both went through something extremely traumatic by playing and winning the games, but it seemed to bond In-ho to that place when you couldn’t care less. In-ho seemed constantly tormented by his decisions, as if he didn’t want to be there but couldn’t help himself.

As you started becoming more popular, you didn’t feel the need to work for them anymore. You wanted to leave many times, but In-ho always convinced you to stay. He promised over and over that you two could make it work, splitting time between the island and your apartment. And he promised he’d be at every one of your performances.

A promise he was never able to keep.

There were so many nights like that night, where In-ho would show up late in the evening, well after your performance, begging for forgiveness and promising to be better. You’d cry in front of him, break his heart a little, fall for his sweet words, and then make up as if nothing happened. Then you’d have another upcoming performance that always happened to conflict with work, and fight endlessly about how you navigate your relationship. Repeating the same vicious cycle over and over.

You couldn’t stand to keep breaking your heart like this. The love you felt for him was undeniable, something you felt you’d never get over, but the pain was just too much. Tonight was your final straw.

The next day, you finally quit your job and started your new life.

~~~

In-ho waited outside the lounge, the cold, night air whipping across his face. His hands were awkwardly stuck in his pockets as he scanned the people around him, looking for her. He was reluctantly waiting to meet someone on a blind date, set up for him by an acquaintance.

He didn’t want to be there at all, but figured he needed to start putting himself out there. Or at least that’s what everyone else was trying to convince him to do. After looking around for another brief moment, he spotted her approaching him.

She was beautiful. But she wasn’t you.

Ever since your painful breakup, he was tormented by thoughts of you. He couldn’t help but remember you in the little things around him, even now a year later. It was a constant reminder of his failings, how he ruined one of the only things that was good for him and made him truly happy.

He knew he was pushing you away the more you wanted to quit. He knew he was hurting you every time he missed a performance, ignored a call, prioritized anything else over you. He knew you’d be better off without him and his baggage.

In fact, it seemed true. Ever since you had finally broken up, he saw you rise to a whole new level of fame. You were constantly putting on performances and releasing new music. He tried his best to ignore any news he heard about you, but in moments of weakness couldn’t help but look you up and try to get a glimpse into your new life.

She approached him with a smile and they entered the lounge together, sitting at a small, intimate table for two. The atmosphere couldn’t have been any more romantic - warm, low lights, candles and a rose on the table, drinks and conversation flowing with ease around them. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt, as if he was doing something wrong.

A waiter approached the table and took their drink order. Upon returning, he excitedly pointed to the currently empty stage.

“Are you here to see the show?”

They looked blankly at the waiter, and she asked who was performing. In-ho felt his blood run cold when he heard the waiter say your name.

You.

You were performing at the lounge tonight. 

He gave a polite smile as he internally screamed. “Oh, we’re just staying for a drink, so we’ll probably miss it, won't we?” He glanced at his date.

She scoffed. “What? Of course not, we can’t miss this! I didn’t even know she was playing tonight.”

The waiter smiled. “It’s a special one-night performance, just for us. This is where she had one of her first solo performances!”

The waiter and In-ho’s date chatted briefly as In-ho tuned out all the noise around him. The one night he tried to get you off his mind, he found his way into the one place in the entire city you’d be. He felt his heart rate quicken and his head start to spin.

Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts. “Are you a fan too? You seem the type,” his date asked.

He snapped out of it. “Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Yes, I am.”

She smiled. “Great! We can’t wait.”

The waiter smiled and left. In-ho and his date casually sipped their drinks while making small talk. His eyes would dart wildly near the stage, anticipating when you’d appear on stage, wondering if you’d be visible nearby. 

“Are you alright?”

In-ho brought his attention back to his date, who had a concerned look on her face. He smiled. “Oh. Yeah, sorry. Uh… just a bit nervous, I guess.”

She smiled and sighed, relieved. “Oh god, me too. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He laughed softly, but couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable feeling he had inside. He looked around, noticing how busy the place was getting as your performance was about to start. 

“Want another drink before the show starts?” he asked. The waiters were incredibly busy, and he needed an excuse to step away.

“Sure. Just the same. Thanks.”

He quickly got up and walked to the bar. It was filled with people getting their last minute orders in, but he took his time getting the attention of the bartender. Anything to delay having to go back to the table and put on a facade. How was he supposed to act once you began performing?

As he was waiting for the drinks, you arrived on stage. The entire place erupted with applause. In-ho wanted it all to not be real, just a dream he could wake up from at any moment. He wanted to look away from you, to keep his focus on the drinks he was supposed to be getting, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning to you.

It was as if all the air in his chest escaped at once. You were standing at the microphone looking like an angel. The lights had dimmed in the room, with a single spotlight illuminating your face. You scanned the room with a soft smile on your face.

“Wow. Thank you all for coming. I’ve never seen this place so packed!”

A quiet laughter sounded from the audience as you continued. “As some of you may know, this is the spot where I had my very first solo performance ever, almost a year ago now. I have so many memories in this place. Some good, some bad, but… that’s life, isn’t it?” 

You paused to take a deep breath. “Tonight I’ll be singing some of your favorites, some I even performed here that first night. And I even have a new special song I’ll be performing at the end for you. I hope you enjoy.” You smiled as the band started, the crowd applauding again.

In-ho stood still, frozen at the bar as you began singing. He immediately recognized your first song, remembering so vividly even now how you practiced it and played it for him over and over. He didn’t even notice when the bartender gave him his drinks.

Instead, he stayed there almost your entire concert, completely mesmerized by you. With the songs he recognized, it was like watching his memories in a movie in front of him, as if he was experiencing those feelings again just like before. And with your new songs, it was like getting to know someone he’d never met. He saw the parts of your life he had completely missed. It created a deep sense of loneliness and longing in his heart.

Before your last song, he finally became aware of himself and brought the drinks to his table. His date looked surprised.

“Oh. I thought you ditched me.” She scowled.

In-ho gave her an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. The drinks…”

“The drinks didn’t take that long.”

In-ho sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

She sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. “You know, it’s fine. I was warned you might be like this, anyways.”

He was taken aback for a second. “What?”

“Your friends, they all told me they basically forced you into this.”

He scoffed. He wanted to defend himself for a moment… but they were right. He stayed silent.

“I just thought you’d have better manners than this,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He wasn’t sure what to say. Before he could think of something, you spoke before your last song.

“I want to thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to have your support. Thanks to you, I’ve been able to make my dreams a reality. I’d like to thank you by playing a brand new song, just for you all. I wrote this recently, but it’s about what some of my life has been like this past year. 

“Like I said before, some good memories, and some bad. I wrote this to reflect on some of those bad memories, and hopefully let go of the pain with them. I’m sure some of you can relate, right?”

Many in the crowd nodded. “This one is called Maybe You’ll Be There. Thank you.”

As you began your song, In-ho’s blood slowly ran cold. He knew after the first verse you were talking about him. He studied your face as you sang, watching how your eyes would subtly flutter at particularly emotional moments. It was something most people wouldn’t pick up on, but he knew you. He still knew you so well.

Your voice filled the space with ease as you reached more intense moments, gracing the ears of the audience with your rich tone. Once you reached the last verse, a tear fell down your cheek in perfect timing. In-ho’s heart strained in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to run to you on that stage and wipe the tear from your face, and do anything to make you happy again, anything to make the two of you whole again, anything to heal the wound that festered over the last year.

He almost cried listening to the final words of your song, hearing how you wished he would come back. After everything you had gone through together, and all the time you spent apart, you still missed him. His heart broke - he didn’t deserve you, and you deserved so much better than him. And you said it yourself, that you hoped you could finally move on after releasing this song.

Although it pained him greatly, and forced him to defy the longing he felt in every fiber of his being, he knew you’d be better off without him. And so, after your performance ended, he politely excused himself from the date and went home. 

~~~

You entered your apartment later that night, pleasantly exhausted. It was late, but you were still buzzing with emotion. You hadn’t expected to become so emotional while performing your new song. It had been a long time since you cried on stage, but singing that song brought back so many painful memories that you couldn’t help yourself. Despite that, you were proud of having such a vulnerable moment become something beautiful.

You collapsed on your couch with a glass of wine, too tired to get changed just yet. The silence enveloped you. You remembered a year ago, the last time you saw In-ho in your apartment. The somber look he gave you as he left. The ensuing rush of tears and pain that you couldn’t keep in that night. 

And the painful ache of longing you’ve had ever since then.

You sighed deeply, finishing your glass of wine and willing yourself to stand up. Life goes on, you told yourself. You were well-acquainted with the act of ignoring your feelings and pressing forward. No matter how much you wanted In-ho to appear in front of you, it wasn’t going to happen. He never once tried to get you back in the entire past year. Maybe now you could finally let go.

As you walked to your bedroom, you heard a light knocking at your door. 

You stopped. Were you hearing things? The following silence was filled with tension.

You were about to dismiss the noise and continue walking when you heard it again, this time louder. Your heart was beating through your chest. 

Slowly, you walked to the door. Your heart leapt, as if you knew who was behind the door. You weren’t sure whether to cry, or get excited, or get angry. A flurry of emotions filled your mind as you grasped the door handle, turned it, and pulled the door open.

You froze at the man standing in front of you. His grief stricken face. Flowers in his hands. The way he breathed a sigh of relief. 

The way your heart breathed a sigh of relief.

In-ho.

[thelargefrye]

February Filth Fest : DAY TWO : CHEATING / CREAMPIE … mature one - shot

pairing : gangster!seongjoong x f!reader

genre : smut, high & low au, strangers to maybe lovers, pinch of angst if you squint

word count : 2.6k

warnings : language, cheating (your bf cheats on you so you cheat on him🤷‍♀️), so douche boyfriend, smoking, a little drinking, kind of fighting, little crying (but in a good way, promise)

smut warnings : unprotected sex, implied threesome, creampie, pet names (doll, princess)

honorary suffer tag : for my bestie braincell @sanjoongie

your boyfriend cheats on you, so you seek out the two most feared men in your district for revenge.

DAY ONE ↤ HiGH&LOW: MATZ ↦ DAY THREE

"you want us to do what?" seonghwa's eyes feel like they are piercing through your body as he stares down at you, eyebrow raised. you obviously surprised him, but he's too calculated to actually show that surprise. he's a feared leader within the sword distract, he can't afford to act surprised.

"i want you guys to help me get revenge on my boyfriend," you repeat yourself, showing him and his partner, hongjoong, that you are dead serious.

"revenge?" hongjoong says as he stands up to move towards you. he bends down to where you're eye level, an evil smirk overtaking his face. it makes you consider whether you should have even come here, but you can't back out now. that bastard of a boyfriend needs to pay. "what kind of revenge are you looking for doll?"

"he's cheating on me," you say looking at hongjoong and its his turn to raise an eyebrow at you this time. hongjoong turns his head to look at seonghwa, the eldest of the two clenching jaw as he rolls his neck. his 'matz' tattoo proudly on display as he does so and you can't help but to lick your lips.

seonghwa exudes a display of power that you have never truly experienced before, and that's probably what makes him so feared among all the different gangs. which was exactly why you wanted him and hongjoong to help you with this revenge.

"cheating, huh?" seonghwa says, reaching into the inside of his jacket pocket and pulling a pack of cigarettes. he takes one out before slotting it between his lips and effortlessly lighting it with his lighter. you note the metal and detailed design on his lighter, custom made.

"and how would you want to get this revenge, doll?" hongjoong asks, grabbing your chin and making you turn your attention to him.

seonghwa blows out a puff of smoke from his lips the smile time you look at hongjoong with a grin of your own. "i'm glad you asked."

the music was loud as you walked through the club. so loud that you could feel the bass vibrating through your entire body. the lights of the club were flashing a mix of vibrant colors and you almost started to strain your eyes.

and not to mention how packed it was in here, you rarely went clubbing for this very reason of not being a huge fan of packed crowds of sweaty, drunk people. usually you would have had someone's elbow in your ribs, but tonight was different. people parted the way like you were royalty.

well... it wasn't because of you, but the one who had their arm draped over you. you were pulled closely in seonghwa's side, your body leaning into his. hongjoong was leading the two of you, a lot of people moving out of there way and you noticed a few odd looks some club-goers gave you.

which you honestly wouldn't blame them. you were wrapped around one of the most dangerous and feared men in the city and walking through a club with two of them. you would give yourself a weird look too. but you really, you didn't have time to think about these people. there was only one person who needed to see you.

your douche soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

you soon found yourself in the vip section, looking down at the dance floor, your eyes scanning everywhere for your boyfriend. hongjoong came to stand next to you, arm around your shoulders as if he was also looking.

"do you see him?" he asks, and you're surprised you can hear him from how loud the music was.

"i don–

right as you're about to say no, that's when you spot him, wrapped around a girl as they grind against each other and it makes you cringe a little.

"right there! in the black button up," you say pointing at him and hongjoong lets out a chuckle as he pulls you against him.

"you could definitely do better than him, doll," he says. "the girl is pretty," he begins to add and you can't a wave of uneasiness crash over you, but before it could drag you under hongjoong adds, "but you're prettier. especially in this dress seonghwa picked out."

you turn to see him grinning at you and he cages you between the railing and himself. you run a hand down his chest, his bright orange fur coat standing out even against the flashing club lights. and you had to admit he was right, the sequin red dress that seonghwa picked out did not only make you look hot, but you felt like it too.

funny how these two men could make you feel something your boyfriend never could. your eyes flicker behind hongjoong to see seonghwa sitting on the leather seating, cigarette between his lips as he takes a long drag, his eyes locked on you and hongjoong. you felt a chill run down your spine and goosebumps cover your whole bond thanks to his stare alone.

"shall we go have fun now that we found him?" you ask hongjoong with a tilt of your head and hongjoong can't help but let out a small laugh.

"i knew there was a reason why i liked you, doll, that feistiness gets me going," he says, grin on his lips before he's leading you down the stairs.

like seonghwa, hongjoong was quick to drape his arm around you, showing you off as people parted for the two of you, mainly him. he lead the two of you over to the bar, the bartender immediately seeing hongjoong and coming over to get your orders. while you two waited, you looked around and spotted your boyfriend at the other end of the bar with some of his friends.

you felt an odd rage course through you knowing that he was having the time of his life partying, drinking, and cheating on you. while he thinks you're at home and waiting for him to return. you feel hongjoong's arm move from your shoulders to your waist. you turn away from looking at your boyfriend to hongjoong who's already grinning at you. he slides your drink over to before taking a sip of his own.

you quickly down your drink, "i have to use the bathroom," you say before slipping away from hongjoong; however, hongjoong stops you before you get too far away from him.

"go to seonghwa if i'm not here, okay?"

"okay," you say and he gives you a smile before letting you go and turning back to his drink while also ordering another from. and so you make your way to the bathroom.

when you exit the bathroom, you begin to make your way back to the bar, back to hongjoong, but before you could get too far you are stopped. a hand grabbing your wrist and a little too aggressively pulling you back. you let out a surprise yelp as you're turning around and coming face to face with your boyfriend.

"holy shit the guys were right," he says looking at you with surprise all over his face. "i didn't believe them and then i saw you at the bar with... with kim hongjoong. what are you even doing here?"

"what do you mean? am i not allowed to party like you?" you ask, pulling your wrist away from him, an eyebrow raised.

"that's not what i mean," he says, letting out an annoyed sound, "what are you doing here with some gangsters? everyone saw you came in draped around park seonghwa like you were his girl."

"because she is my girl, bastard," you see your boyfriend go pale at the voice behind him and you both look behind him to see seonghwa standing there with a bored expression.

"what are you talking about? i'm her boyfriend! not some thug like you!" your boyfriend says, trying his best to sound intimidating. however, it takes a lot more than a puffed chest to intimidate seonghwa.

"really?" seonghwa says with an annoyed laugh as he rolls his neck, his tattoo standing out boldly in the moment. "you claim to be her boyfriend, yet you're here with another woman instead of her. she's not yours anymore fucker, she's mine. princess," he says, now addressing you, "go get hongjoong. we're leaving."

you nod your head, but before you could get away your ex grabs you by the wrist, stopping. "you're not leaving with these punks until we ta–

he's cut off when seonghwa grabs himself by the collar and shoves him away from you. you notice a burning fire in his eyes as he stalks towards your ex who begins to back away scared by seonghwa. but then seonghwa stopped and turned towards you once more, "princess, go get hongjoong," he told you again and this time you went without anything stopping you.

"hongjoong, seonghwa wants to leave," you say, tugging on his orange fur coat. hongjoong sets his drink down before getting up and following you towards where you left seonghwa and your ex. you tell hongjoong what happened and you notice the grin the takes over his face.

seonghwa meets the two of you outside the club and you notice his knuckles are a little red and busted. however, you choose not to comment on them. instead you watch as he lights another cigarette, taking a drag before blowing the smoke out. his eyes look up to meet yours and can't help but feel something run through and straight to your core.

"your boyfriend is gonna get his shit out of your apartment tonight," seonghwa says as he guides you to get into the car – you honestly didn't notice the car too busy drooling over seonghwa.

"ex-boyfriend," you say, turning to him as you climb into the car and slide over for him to join you. hongjoong rounds the car and gets in on the other side of you. hongjoong says something to their driver before he leans back.

hongjoong wraps his arms around your waist, "i've never been more happy to hear that a word more in my life." seonghwa lets out a laugh at his partner's words. "now we can have you all to ourselves, right doll?"

"right."

you let out a moan, feeling your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as seonghwa pounded into you. you felt your thighs burn from how he has you folded in half and hands gripping the flesh of your thighs tightly. you're pretty sure he'll marks later, but you don't really care now nor will you later.

seonghwa also lets out a series of moans and a few stuttered curses as he continues to thrust into your pussy. his cock stretching your walls out and filling you up as his tip continuously hits your sweet spot. you sling your arm around his shoulder and neck as you let it run down his back, raking your nails down him as you do so.

you feel seonghwa's lip press against your neck leaving open mouth kisses before pulls away to lick up your neck before he's sucking on the skin.

"h-hwa," you moan out as seonghwa moves to sit up slightly in order to thrust harder into you. "fu-f-fuck! so good~"

"you really doing a number on our doll aren't you, hwa?" hongjoong from behind the two of you. hongjoong had fucked you first, cumming in, and kissing you until your lips bruised before he slipped out of you and off your bed to rest in the chair by your desk.

he had a cigarette between his lips when he came to stand behind seonghwa, promptly smacking his ass and making the elder of two turn and send a glare. hongjoong only laughed at his partner before grabbing seonghwa by the back of the neck and crashing their lips together.

even through the kiss, seonghwa's hips didn't falter as he kept a steady pace. when the two separated, seonghwa seemed to have gained some extra energy as he continued to drill into you. his thumb coming down to vigorously rub at your clit and you couldn't help the moans and whines that escaped you.

"f-fuck, you feel so good," he grunts out as he wraps his arms around your body and rolls the two of you over so you're now on top. you feel seonghwa's hand run through your hair before gripping it harshly and crashing your lips together. his tongue enters your mouth and you note it tastes like smoke and whatever drink he had at the club.

when he pulls away as you feel his hands roam over your body, groping different parts of you as he begins to harshly thrust into you from below at an almost unthinkable pace. to be honest you had never felt this pleasured before, your ex never making you feel the things both hongjoong and seonghwa have made you feel.

you can't but bury your face in his neck, tears welling up in your eyes at the overwhelming feelings that this man is making you feel.

"hm, do-does it feel g-good, princess?" seonghwa asks, feeling your walls clench around him. he voice becomes rather breathy, his thrust getting longer as he grabs your ass.

"s-so good," you say, voice shaking and you silently cry from how it all feels. and then like a wave pleasure washing over your body, you cum. you let out a loud moan-sob mixed with seonghwa's name and you also pumps his cum inside you.

your mind is fuzzy as you lay on top of seonghwa, both of you sweaty and out of breath. your body stuck to his thanks to the sweat and also how you don't have the energy to move.

you feel your bed dip next to you and seonghwa before a hand comes to rest on your back, running up and down before gently pulling you off and away from seonghwa. his cock falls out of you and you whine at the emptiness; however, hongjoong's hand comes down to spread your pussy lips apart and showing off your cum-filled cunt.

"god, look at pretty our doll's pussy is," hongjoong says pressing a kiss to your temple. you look to see seonghwa looking at the both of you with grin on face before he's sitting up and moving to sandwich you between himself and hongjoong.

"why are you crying princess?" seonghwa asks, hand coming up to brush the tears away. you won't lie, his softness surprises you. his eyes that are usually cold and hard are now soft and his voice is gentle in a way. soothing. you didn't even know you were fully crying.

"hmm?" hongjoong cranes his head to look at you, a pout now on his lips as he looks at you. "what's the matter doll?"

"i guess all the emotions from today and from my ex cheating on me has just finally hit me," you confess with a small laugh. "i had never felt so much pleasure before, so i guess it just overwhelmed me... in a good way."

"your ex never made you cum?" seonghwa asks, reaching over to grab a cigarette before lighting it. he rests next to you and hongjoong, against your headboard and smoking. you crawl a little bit away from hongjoong in order to sit at the end of your bed.

"figures," hongjoong says when seonghwa passes him the cigarette. "spineless fucker, imagine the poor girl who's stuck with him now."

you can't help but let out a laugh as you watch the two of the most feared men in your city share a cigarette and gossip between each other about you ex. it sure was a funny sight to see honestly.

you watch seonghwa talk a long drag before putting the cigarette out, "come here, princess. you don't have to worry about that bastard and his no pleasurable dick anymore."

you smile, nodding before crawling between the two men and immediately laying your head on seonghwa's chest as hongjoong hugs you from behind. "thank you, joongie, hwa."

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[fandomobbsessedb]

Your Favorite Players Favorite Player.

Young-Il/ Frontman / In-Ho/ Player 001 x Gi-Hun's Sister Reader)

Chapter 4 : It’s Play or Be Played

Warnings: blood, gore, murder, changes to canon events, obvi, uhhh strong language but I can’t think of where off the top of my head. Guns and long descriptions, a little kissy kissy here n there.

Hehe- canon events

The haunting classical music echoed in the stairs, sending shivers down your back and through your feet. Using the energy you pushed further and further up the stairs. You walked in between Gi-hun and Young-il. Everytime you looked up your brother would be looking down at you, and everytime you looked behind you Young-il’s eyes burned into your skin. When you had woken up for the game that day Young-il seemed to have covered you with his blanket, the gesture sweet but not really needed. You didn’t even know when he had woken up.

Gi-hun did though.

He watched Young-il wake up for his turn. He watched him take the blankets on both of you and straighten them out. He watched as Young-il brushed some hair away from your face before running his hand down to your shoulder and beyond to your arm. Of course always two steps ahead, Young-il had learned what woke your brother up where the others stayed asleep. Intentionally waking him so he could watch, as the thing he was trying so hard to protect was slowly but surely being pulled away from him.

The doors in front of the group flushed open like curtains, revealing a huge open room with a carousel in the middle. Only there were no animals to ride on, they were walking onto the ride.

Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle.

“Mingle?” You whispered under your breath confused. You observed the room a bit more unsure of how this was mingle. Young-il placed a hand on your shoulder. His other hand pointing to the rooms around you.

“We’ll all have to seperate and divide in those rooms when a number is called.” He told you, nearly cheek to cheek with you, ensuring you could see what he was talking about. The name of the game was certainly older than you, so he probably knew more about the actual specifics of the game.

As the players stepped onto the platform, you found it a little entertaining. As you listened to the instructions your mind couldn’t help but wander. When you were little, there was a merry-go-round at the park by your school. Whenever Gi-hun use to pick you up after he was done with work, he would always have acoin to let you ride. It made you so happy you forgot about all the bad things about your day as you rode the elephants and giraffes and penguin statues. Sometimes Gi-hun would even join you lifting you higher up then the pole would let it go.

Internally you felt the most at peace you’ve been since you entered the game. You went to grab the nearest arm and found it to be Young-ils. He simply smiled at you as you attached to his arm.

Let the game begin

The sudden jolt of the platform shook you from where you stood. Using his free arm, Young-il grabbed you before you fell. The eerie kids music having a little ring to it momentarily distracted you before the wheel stopped.

Ten

Gi-hun turned to you and quickly counted your group.

“We have six, we need four more!” He shouted over the chaos. You saw Young-mi’s group standing right behind you with five people. The mother son duo, Young-mi and Hyun-ju and… the shaman. They turned to talk to Gi-hun.

“ We have five!!” They shouted looking around. Almost on beat you all turned your head to face the crazy lady who looked back at you with a defiant look. Without a heart beat in between- your group sprinted for the nearest room leaving that crazy bitch behind. Young-il ran behind you, you felt his hand push you into the room you had claimed by your lower back, ensuring you got in. As soon as Gi-hun entered behind everyone you took a breath as you heard the buzzer of the clock, and the doors lock ca-chunked. You took a breath thinking you could relax, until the gunshots started.

You and a few others in the room jumped in surprise, waiting for it to be over.

The following players have been eliminated.

Players 013, 043, 049, 054, 060

Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you stood to take a full deep breath.

“What’s the plan when we get split up Gi-hun?” Dae-Ho asked, worry etched across his face now that you all had a minute to breathe.

“For groups of five or four we split up evenly, any above that and we grab whoever we need.” He sighed.

“And what if it’s smaller?” Young-mi asked, grasping onto Hyun-ju’s hand in fear.

“We decide as we go I guess.” He thought. “We can divide out pretty evenly since there’s ten of us in here.” He nodded. You copied his motion looking around the room at who would likely get paired up.

Exiting the room you witnessed the puddles of blood, just collecting on the floor. One mistep, and you had accidently slipped in one of those puddles. It jostled you a bit but you found your balance, looking down you saw the stickiness connecting your shoe to the floor.

Oh my god, oh my god oh my god oh my god, I’m gonna throw up.

You bit your lips to try and keep your mouth closed so as to not throw up all over, and now have blood and vomit to walk on. You took a deep breath again as Gi-hun stood next to you and helped you walk away from the pile.

Ring-a, ring-a, ring-a

Ring-a, ring-a-ring

Ring-a, ring-a, ring-a

Ring-a, ring-a-ring

Four

Trying your hardest to keep your balance you slid in place as your group looked around at eachother.

Hyun-ju’s group gave a silent nod to each other and your group, then ran like the wind towards a room.

As your group looked together to decide who would go, Gi-hun planned to usher you all towards a room. Young-il seeing his sacrifice grabbed at your hand about to pull you away to find a separate group, when a painted hand grabbed onto your ponytail and yanked you backwards.

You slipped in a slick blood puddle and fell into the body behind you, you felt two arms link with yours as they started running.

“LETS GO; WOOOOOOOO” Thanos exclaimed pulling you backwards with Nam-gyu. Se-mi ran next to them shouting an apology at your group. Your slimy shoes did nothing but aid your captors as they pulled you from your group.

“STOP, GUYS HELP ME, STOP IT, STOP” I screamed, I didn’t want to go with these morons, I wanted to stay with my brother. I saw the group trying to make a grab for me but getting pulled back by the crowd. “LET ME GO” I struggled, I saw my friends getting smaller and smaller as I was taken farther away. A door blocked my vision from them as Se-mi slammed it shut, and fiddled with the lock.

“LET ME GO, LET ME OUT OF HERE!” I jumped trying to reach for the door.

“Ah ah ah, no way we’re loosing a game as easy as mingle” Nam-gyu tsked at me, catching me mid jump and barricading the door. I heard the screams start as the timers buzzer sounded. I tried to push him out of the way when Thanos yelled, silenced my cries.

“Wait!” He pointed to Nam-gyu with a confused look on his face. “Where did you leave my boy Gyeong-su?” He asked. Se-mi and Nam-gyu shrugged at eachother before Thanos sighed and ran a hand down his face. Shoving the both of us away from the door, he scared me when he started screaming.

“GEONG-SU”

The gun-shot sounds shook me to my core as Thanos watched his buddy get shot and added to the piggy bank. Peeking through the crack of the door and the wall, I looked around to see if I couldn’t spot any of my group. It was hard to see but so far I hadn’t caught even so much as a glimpse.

You watched in horror as a gaurd walked past your room and to the yellow one adjacent. You screamed at the sudden gunshots from the room next to you. Se-mi rested a shaking hand on your shoulder as the door unlocked.

I stood, frozen in fear. They needed all the players on the platform for the next round, if I just didn’t go, they couldn’t start it. I didn’t want to face the awful truth that… there was a possibility my brother would be- dead. I watched as a puddle of blood started to seep through the floor from the room over and started hyperventilating.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Thanos shouted from the entrence. “Come on señorita, we got a game to play.” He bounced. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders he escorted you from the room, whopping and hollering with Nam-gyu.

Gazing around the room you saw your group exit their door, as apprehensive as you were to leave yours.

“(Y/N)? Young-il??” You heard them shout from their side. With a sad smile you walked over to where they were, Jun-hee being the first to see you.

“(Y/N)!” She yelled, catching the attention of your group. As quickly as her enlarged belly let her she made her way to you in the middle. As soon as you where close enough your wrapped eachother in your embrace. You, careful of her stomach, and her leaning it away. As you relaxed seeing they were okay, she let you go and Dae-ho picked you up with fervor.

“Oh thank god you’re okay!” He cried. I smiled a tight smile at his worry and finally got to Gi-hun. He grabbed at my shoulders and pulled me into him tight. His beanstalk frame towering me, but wrapping me in its comforting cape.

I laid my head against his chest, listening to his sprinting heart beat slow to a mild jog. I felt him take a breath as he started patting me down. His tight arms released me for a moment, holding my face and looking me over. He ran his hands down my arms as he lifted them for inspection as well.

“Gi-hun I’m okay, are you?” I replied, pushing his arms off of me and holding his arms in turn, he nodded. You looked at the rest of the group in confusion.

“Wait, where’s Young-il?” My heart rate picked up once again, I searched the area around us again not seeing his dark mystery eyes.

Now that I think of it, they’re kinda like a basement-dweller’s… eyes never dilating or is that a stoners… he looks like he would kinda do drugs if given the chance…

“Gi-hun!” Someone yelled from behind you. You all turned to see Young-il slightly jogging to your group. Jung-bae didn’t waste any time and jumped into a hug. Young-il didn’t necessarily reciprocate but instead met your eyes, after Jung-bae released him and Dae-ho patted his back, he turned his attention to you.

With a smile I went in for a hug, he went to reciprocate when we noticed how close our faces sat. When we hugged it felt different from the others hugs. It felt like before, warm and enticing, leaving much to be desired.

When you both pulled away, slowly, your faces rest barely an inch apart. You could feel his warm exhale tickle the cold skin of your face. Taking a deep breath I turned back to my brother and stood near him again holding his hand.

“I'm glad you're back.” Jun-hee admit resting her hand on her stomach. Young-il smiled back and looked around.

“Wait a minute. If the next number is seven, we won't need anyone else, will we?” He chuckled. Coming to stand beside you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you away from Gi-hun.

“Why not?” Dae ho responded. “Oh, in her tummy? Right, that makes seven!”

“What if it's twins?” Jung-bae laughed “Does that make seven?”

All players, please step onto the center platform.

As you stepped up Young-il pushed you into the center of their group with Jun-hee creating a secure circle around you.

Three

As the music and lights started flashing around you, you felt Young-il stealthily grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers. Jung-bae and Dae-ho nodded grabbing Jun-hee and rushed to their own room. You saw Young-il and Gi-hun nod grabbing your arms as they rushed off towards a room.

The door locked behind you, trapping the tension inside without a release. You were sat on the floor as Gi-hun and Young-il stared between each other. Your hand went down to help you straighten your seated position when a cold, slick substance caused you to shiver.

A gunshot rang across the room when the firing start. Young-il noticed your shakiness and pulled you into his chest, matching the earlier feeling Gi-hun gave you. You felt like a caterpillar, wrapped in the safety of your cocoon. His hands sat tight on your ears, blocking out all but the sound of your heartbeat. His white t-shirt creating a calm ambiance in contrast to the dark room you found yourself in.

As soon as the shots stopped he pulled back from your face, with his hands still covering your ears. Gi-hun was oblivious to the interaction behind him as he watched the massacre.

My eyes locked into his. A whirlpool of dark emotions swirling around in his trapping gaze. The rest of the world fading around you as you felt yourself fall deeper and deeper into his embrace. Physically you leaned closer to his face, the tips of your noses almost touching. He blinked down at you, scanning you over making you feel like a book of secrets he had been searching for.

His hands slowly trailed down from your ears, the edges of his fingers tickling your jawline. His finger nails lightly scratching at your skin, like a match on scratch paper, feeding the flame inside your stomach. He gently cradled your face in his wide, warm hands. He leaned in, almost in slow motion it felt so long. Your eyes hooded further blocking your view of the room. Your lips came so close you could feel the chapping skin of his- the tension between you melting away the closer you got. Your hands rested on his wrists keeping him close.

Finally, like a bullet meeting a body, his lips met yours. Crashing through the walls of your emotions with such force, such determination, you wondered if he was actually a superhero, the force was so magnetic.

But alas, it wasn’t meant to last…

The lock opened like a cock-blocking lock would. Really fucking annoyingly.

Gi-hun turned helping his sister up who was still flushed from….. well he didn’t know what, probably her nerves from the gunshots. But on the inside, she never felt more at peace.

He popped his head out of the door starting to look for their friends. Young-il helping his shaking sister out of the room, he noticed they were one of the first groups out and waited anxiously.

————

Young-ils hand around my waist felt like a favorite belt, locking into place. I was so shaken up from the murders, then to being taken to heaven for a few solitary moments, the brought back to the living hell we where in was, really fucking with my brain. Looking to the side I saw Geum-ja embracing Hyun-ju and Young-mi, reveling in her relief at their wellbeing before her eyes met me and she yelped once again.

“YOU’RE ALIVE TO!” She exclaimed quickly shuffling her way to me. I met her in the middle and embraced her like a grandma.

“You’re not hurt are you.” She held my face in the same spot Young-il’s hands previously rested. She started turning and twisting me to look me over before meeting my gaze once more. I nodded in response. I looked up behind her to see Young-sik standing there looking like he was about to cry.

“Mrs.Jang?” I tapped her shoulder and pointed behind her. She saw her son and rushed to him embracing him like she had me and the other girls.

Watching their emotional embrace suddenly made a wave of regret flush over me. What was I thinking? My brother was working so hard to protect me and keep me safe from everything in here, and I disrespected his presence back in the room with Young-il. I turned back seeing Young-il look to me, but I didn’t match his gaze, instead embracing Gi-hun who copied his earlier motion of holding me close like a mama bear who’s baby just fell in the river.

————

As Young-il watched Gi-hun help you climb up the stairs and stand next to him, an overwhelming feeling of greed came over him. As he watched the siblings stay closer than ever… he knew what he now had to do…

————

Six

Your group once again scanned who was part of their bregade and who would go in what groups.

Gi-hun did the quick math. “Four women and two men!”

“I stay with my mom!” Young-sik demanded, Dae-ho volunteered and off the group ran. You stood there with Young-il, grasping his arm tightly as your brother searched for one more person. They spotted a woman who had been abandoned by her group and swept her up running into a red room, the countdown just ending.

Again as you heard the screams and cries of players being shot your heart couldn’t take it anymore. You looked between Gi-hun and Young-il who in turn were looking around the room ensuring everyone’s safety. Young-il being the one who had comforted you before got your attention.

You buried yourself into his chest as his hands came up to cover your ears. Gi-hun looked at the two of you with an angry confused look, of course you didn’t get to witness it as Young-il quietly nodded his head at the door to distract his prey.

When they had let you out you looked for your group again, finding Jun-hee and Myun-gi speaking angrily, and Hyun-ju with a distanced glaze.

“Hey uh, where Young-mi?” Jung-bae asked looking around at the others doors in hopes of finding her. Dae-ho looked at you with a desolate look before looking at the rest..

Feeling faint at the sudden revelation you leaned on Jung-bae behind you who was more than happy to help, until Young-il came in.

no, no she can’t be, no.. no no no

You could barely get enough oxygen, your feet felt like led weights… turning around you started yelling.

“Young-mi….. YOUNG-MI!” She can’t be gone, I can’t- she’s… she’s…

“(Y/N), she fell and didn’t make it in the door fast enough.” Geum-ja left her son’s side and came to comfort me.

“No, no she, she went to a different room.” I trailed off looking around for her short little bob cut. Turning to the door they came from, I saw the puddle of blood dripping off from the door. A scratching sob wretched my body as I fell to my knees. Someone I knew, someone who we were close with, was taken oh so easily, as I feared would happen to me and the rest of the group in due time.

I could hardly breath I was letting so much out, the built up stress and pressure of this place, along with a close loss.

“I don’t know how much more I can do this.” I cried into my hands. Geum-ja got down and held me as I wept, turning the dried out blood into liquid once again.

Now, the final round will begin

“One more round (Y/N)” Young-il said in an attempt to comfort the weeping girl. Slowly her cries subdued as she ran out of steam. She turned from the door, not seeing the guards behind quickly wiping up the floor where Young-mi had been shot.

Her slowly made her way up the bloody steps. It was like some kind of sick confetti, sticking to her shoes and painting them red. Like a celebration that she wasn’t dead.

The wheel spun, its tantalizingly slow speed teasing what was to come.

The lights dulled as the music started, and the last players stood like statues holding their place on the platform.

“What do you think it'll be this time?” Dae-ho broke the silence asking.

“Two” Young-il responded sturdily.

Slowly, Jung-bae turned his head. “Why?”

“There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough for everyone, only for 100 people. The rest will be killed.” He said, holding his head up, determination boiling over in his mind.

Two

“Oh god” I cried to myself, I quickly looked at our group trying to see who had a game plan. With 0 hesitation, Gi-hun made a grab for me when Young-il pointed at a room and yelled.

“RUN!” He shouted.

Like the flash of a lightning bolt our group divided and grabbed people to run with. Time seemed to slow down as I bolted to the door, unquestioning his order. I saw the number “001” run past me in as two other guys had their hands on the door handle. I slowed down seeing the room being taken to look for other open doors. When I turned back it all came onto me at once as I watched Young-il grab the man’s shoulders with an iron fist, yanking him away.

“GET IN!” Again without question, I yanked open the door and clambered in. I looked up and stopped dead in my tracks.

Someone was already inside.

Young-il shoved his way inside and slammed the door shut. He looked at me before following my line of sight.

“Out” he huffed. The man tried to protest but was quickly shut down as the timer counted down from ten, and Young-il tackled his ass.

“Lock the door!” He yelled from the corner. I did my best to hold my ground as I tried to get the jostling door to shut. Once I locked it I heard the overhead count down and turned my attention back to Young-il.

Five

I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth in shock as I saw him strangling the man on the floor.

Four

His head turned purple as Young-il’s hold got tighter.

Three

Snap

Two

He….. he killed him.

One

Young-il released a sigh letting the man’s body hit the ground. The gunshots started at the leftover players. He stood from the ground with his arms out for an embrace. He pulled me into his arms blocking the sound’s out again. I was shaking, I could hardly stand and my jaw hurt from how much I was shivering.

As I stared into the darkness of his clothes I felt his breathing pumping like a non-stop machine. Following his breathing I managed to calm down once more.

I remembered the camera sitting in the corner of the room. Slowly turning my head to look at that little black bug, I watched a light inside go from red, to green. I turned my face back into his chest as I cried. My hands gradually clutched onto his jacket tighter and tighter. If that guy was still alive when the timer ended… we would’ve been killed.

He just held me close as I sobbed, rubbing my back as I came down from the anxiety rush.

“It’s over now, the games done.” He reminded me. One of his hands came off my ears to wipe at my face. His hand tilted my chin up as he wiped my face. I stared at the eyes that entranced me so, realizing there was a darkness I hadn’t noticed before. My breathing quickened as I went to pull away.

Young-il recognized that however and quickly finished what he started in the round second to previous. Holding my chin in place his chapped lips came into contact with mine, holding me in place.

Most people don’t realize when a tsunami is coming, the water pulling back farther and farther till the wave crashes in and destroys everything. You were one of those people, and Young-il is that Tsunami.

The overwhelming feeling of desire flushing away all your worries as the wave crashed onto shore. His lips feeling like the only life raft you had. His hands holding your face above the water saving you from surely drowning. It boiled over in your stomach and the heat filled into your face. For a brief moment, only a moment, you were on a deserted island, the water rushing away from you as your little island stood strong. The only two things there where you and Young-il, oblivious to all the pain and destruction befalling your peers.

He pulled away for a brief moment wrapping you in his arms, suctioning himself to you. In a moment of vulnerability on his end, his hold tightened.

“No force in this world will ever break my hold on you.” He whispered deeply into your mouth. Trembling in his hold, he disregards your uncertainly and re attaches your lips.

“You’re the only force I need.”

AN: I just really wanted to write all the kissy kissy scenes and I’ve spent so long on this chapter too. I hope you guys like it! I’ll keep ya’ll updated on chapters five and six on the master list.

Until then!!!!

Yours truly

~FandomObbsessedB

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[daisyvisions]

✦ Day 21 - Food Play

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: neighbor!Eric x afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.7K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), food play (using syrup), fingering, lots of nipple play here, mutual pining, strength kink (if you squint), pet name (sweetheart), kinda fluff but like smutty fluff lol, sexual innuendo mentioned

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: My brain was in rest mode it was so hard to think of how this would go until the idea finally struck when I was supposed to go to sleep 🙃 Hope you enjoy this one! Actually proofread.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

✦ Kinktober Masterlist ✦

It had almost been a week since Eric had moved into the apartment across from yours.

After you came back from your morning walk to the nearest coffee shop, you bumped into your landlord, stopping for a moment to have a small chat with them.

"Oh! By the way, there's a new guy moving in across from you."

"Is he a cranky middle-aged man again?" You joke.

"No, not at all. I think he's around your age actually! You might actually get along with this one." She winks, but you don't understand what she was implying.

"Cool, I'll be sure to give him the usual first-day greeting!"

As soon as you reached your floor, you spotted a number of moving boxes outside. You quickly reminisced about the first time you moved into your apartment. How stressful it was bringing in all the boxes and unpacking each one. So you decided to bake something for your new neighbor as a form of sustenance and get your chance to say hello.

You rang the doorbell, balancing on the heels of your feet as you held a box of lemon bars in one hand.

While waiting for him to respond, you wondered what he might be like. Did he keep to himself? Was he a nosy neighbor? Was he the type to blast music and keep you up at night? Did he bring any people ho-

The door suddenly swings open, and you're greeted with an image you weren't expecting at all. Beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, hair slightly damp, a towel hanging from his shoulder, and... Oh no. He's shirtless.

"Uh, can I help you?" He looks at you with curiosity. You almost don't hear him the first time as your eyes quickly scan his toned chest.

"Oh, sorry to interrupt!" You try to play it cool. "I live right across from you, wanted to drop by to say hello." You smile at him. He looks up and down at you for a moment, licking his lips before smiling back at you. She's cute.

"I'm Eric." He extends his hand to you. You try to compose yourself, feeling the rough and firm grip of his handshake. You say your name in return.

"I, baked you something. Thought you needed some energy from all the moving in."

"Oh, right, um, thank you." He shyly replies, trying not to make a fool out of himself.

There's an awkward pause between you, the music coming from the other side of his door faintly playing in the background.

"Well... if you need anything, you know where to find me. Nice meeting you again, Eric!"

"Oh, I definitely will. See you around, neighbor." He winks at you before taking the box of baked goods from your hand.

Before you start blushing in front of him, you turn around and walk straight into your apartment. You lean your back against the door as soon as you close it. Your heart racing just from that tiny interaction with your new hot neighbor. You suddenly shake off the incoming butterflies in your stomach.

Before you even set foot in the living room, you hear a knock at your door. When you walk back to open it, you catch Eric mid-way through knocking on your door again.

"Sorry, I know you just got in, but I just have to say your lemon bars were really good." He exaggerates, spotting a few crumbs at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm glad you liked them! I could make more for you if you want?" You ask.

"Actually... I was thinking maybe you could teach me how. Kinda suck at cooking, to be honest. Between you and me..." Eric motions his finger for you to come closer.

"Might've been the reason why I got kicked out of my old apartment." He chuckles.

"Well, lucky for you, I love to cook. So I'll make sure you won't burn our floor to the ground." You joke back.

"Perfect, are you free this weekend?" He asks.

"Yeah, I've got nothing else to do." You smile.

"Great, I'll see you then."

"And where do I pour this again?"

"Just in the mixer, Eric." You chuckle at the man next to you.

"You got it!" He points at you with finger guns as he grabs the vanilla extract. You both smile at each other, enjoying each other's company while music plays in the background.

At first, you felt very nervous about having Eric over. Worried that you might become too obvious with your attraction towards him and scare him off. But to your surprise, spending time and getting to know him was very calming.

"Okay, now after pouring, just turn on the mixer for a few seconds." He nods his head at your instruction. After turning off the mixer, Eric slightly dips his clean finger into the batter to taste the mixture.

"Oh my god, this is so good!" He groans.

"Eric... It hasn't even been baked yet."

"No, try it! I swear." He dips another clean finger into the batter and holds his finger out in front of you.

"No, no, it's okay. I can get it myself." You nervously say, trying not to blush at what he wants you to do.

"C'mon now, before it spills over." His batter-dipped finger still hanging in front of you.

"O-okay..." You grab his hand in yours and raise it a little higher, leaning forward to take his finger in your mouth.

Eric's breath hitches as you slowly swirl your tongue around his digit, your eyes never leaving his.

"T-taste good?" He stutters.

"Mhm." You hum in response, hollowing your cheeks to suck the batter completely clean off his finger. Releasing it with a pop.

"H-holy shit..." He mumbles, caught in a daze watching you suck his finger clean.

To be completely honest, he did it as a joke. He was not expecting you to actually lick the batter from his finger at all. The whole act makes his cock twitch in his pants.

You don't even know where your boldness came from. But you liked the confidence it brought you, seeing Eric get all flustered from what you just did. Mentally patting yourself on the back for adding that popping sound at the end.

You turn around before making things more awkward than they are, grabbing the baking pan on the counter to prepare pouring the batter.

"Okay, now that the batter is good, we can finally start to bake-" You suddenly feel Eric's hands grab your waist, spinning you around to face him as he instantly smashes his lips against yours.

Both your lips move oddly at first until they find the perfect groove. Your arms slowly wrap themselves around his neck as he leans his hands on the edge of the counter, caging your body under his.

You kiss one another passionately until you pull away for a moment to catch your breath.

"I knew from the moment you rang my doorbell I was a goner." He smiles at you. “Thought about you every night since we met.”

Before you can even respond back, he grabs your waist and hoists you up, making you sit at the edge of the counter before diving back in to kiss you some more.

Your hands find their way through his hair, tugging them as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans, squeezing your waist before pulling down the straps of your sundress to kiss your exposed chest.

"So pretty..." he mumbles against your skin, littering as many kisses as he can while massaging your breasts with his strong hands.

As you close your eyes and play with his hair, Eric spots a bottle of syrup in the corner of his eye. He grabs the bottle with his free hand and releases your nipple from his mouth, pulling himself away from you for a moment to open the bottle.

"Hold still..." he inverts the bottle and squeezes the syrup onto your chest, making sure the syrup covers your nipples in the process.

You gasp at the feeling of the liquid slowly rolling down your skin but instantly moan as you feel the tip of Eric's tongue following the trail of the syrup as he cleans it off your body.

His tongue flicking and sucking each nipple in the process, making your back arch at his touch.

You feel your core throbbing slowly, secretly wanting to relieve yourself of the ache. But it's like Eric read your mind as he brings his hand to your inner thigh, massaging it before moving it closer to your core. His finger hooks your panty to the side before plunging two fingers inside your cunt.

The squelching sound of your dripping hole becomes audible as soon as he pumps his fingers in you at a fast pace.

You utter what Eric thinks is the most angelic moan he's ever heard in his life, motivating him to keep pumping his fingers inside you as he continues to lick the syrup off your chest.

"Oh, Eric..." you moan out his name as you arch your back more, your arms resting behind you to keep yourself balanced. The slurping sounds he makes as he continues to lick your chest have you nearing your edge.

"Fuck, you're getting tighter around my fingers. Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?" He lifts his head to look at you.

"Yes! Yes! I wanna cum-"

"Then cum for me, cum all over my fingers." He increases the pace of his fingers, rubbing his thumb on your clit to help you reach your high faster.

Your high hits you like a tidal wave, making you cum so hard you're practically seeing stars. You hear Eric catching his breath as you come down from your high.

"That was fucking hot..." Eric looks at you with hazy eyes. Chest heaving as if he-

"Did you just?" Your eyes widen at the discovery.

"Yeah, I did..." his cheeks glow red in embarrassment. "Best dessert I've ever had." You giggle at his remark.

"Actually, I'm pretty good at making this one recipe. I can show you if you want." He adds.

You tilt your head to the side. "Oh? For what dessert?" He smirks at you as he squeezes your waist once more,

"Creampies..."

[nikkisheep]

Kill Me Slowly

Dean Winchester x pregnant!wife!reader

Warnings: ANGST, cursing, happy beginning, pregnant reader, death

Summary: You find out that Dean died and you don’t know how to react.

Words: 2,075

To be honest, I cried writing this and I will say, this is probably my saddest piece.

You danced around the bunker as Dean’s music blasted from the speakers. You were cleaning the library when you got bored and put on music so time would go by quicker. You sing loudly with the music as you dust the shelves, the books, the tables, the corners, everything you could think of. Getting finished with the library, you move on to the kitchen. You decide to make a pie and some burgers for the boys when they get back. You were nervous about them being gone without Castiel since his death but you trusted that they would be okay.

Mixing the pie crusts, you realized that I didn't have apples for the pie so you decided to run down to the supermarket to get some. I borrow the truck from the garage and drive to the store. There an older woman needed help with selecting apples.

“Ma’am, could you grab that apple for me?” She asked kindly.

“Of course, I actually need some myself.”

You help gather the apples for her and she turns to you to thank you.

“You know, my husband really likes apples and today would have been his 90th birthday,” she says sadly.

“I am so sorry for your loss. I actually am making a pie for my husband when he gets home from work,” You smile softly at her and she looks down to my belly.

“Oh, congrats. Is it a boy or a girl?” She gushes.

“We aren’t sure just yet but Dean, my husband, hopes it’s a girl. He says that he always wanted a daughter but I hope it’s a boy so he could be just like his father,” You smile as you look down at the growing baby bump that you had been trying to cover.

- - - - 

You come home to the bunker and go to the kitchen. Dean and Sam weren’t home just yet so you had a little bit more time before they were to walk through the door. You cut the apples and your belly growls so you get the peanut butter from the cabinet and dipped a few apple slices in to eat. You put on some music and danced along as you baked the pie and cooked the burgers. 

Your hands rubbed the seasoning deep into the meat as you heated the grill. You threw in some fries to be made fresh and you pulled the apple pie from the oven and smiled as the smell washed over you and the bunker. Once everything was ready, you jumped in the shower.

Thoughts of seeing Dean after so long flooded your mind and you smiled as you imagined the feeling of his skin against yours once more. You open his body wash and shampoo to use them. Dean always liked it when you smelt like him. It let him know that you were his. You run your hands up and down your body as you wash yourself and you relax into the hot water as your daydream of Dean continues. 

Getting dressed into a cute sundress, Dean picked it up when he was on a hunt about a month ago and thought it would be beautiful on you, and you headed to the kitchen and started making plates because you heard the Impala pull up into the garage. 

- - - -

Placing Dean’s pie on the table, you hear the door to the bunker open and footsteps begin to fall down the stairs. You gather up Dean’s plate to bring it to the table and you have a big smile on your face as you start walking to the table once again.

“Dean, I made your favorite. I figured that you would want a nice, hot apple pie for when you get ho-” You get interrupted when you round the corner when you only see Sam and his face is all red, with dark circles around his eyes, and his eyes were bloodshot. You stand there and then look around him for your dear husband.

“Oh Sam, you look horrible,” You sigh. “Where is Dean? Surely, he wouldn’t still be in the garage pulling out all the bags instead of greeting his wife?” 

You laughed softly, nervous.

“Dean isn’t here.” Is all he said.

He stumbled down the step to the dining room and sat at the table with his head in his hands. You were confused. If Dean wasn’t here, where was he?’’

“Where is Dean?”

Silence.

“Sam, where is Dean?” You demand an answer and this time when Sam looked up at you, you could just read his expression. Tears in his eyes, sobs being held back with all of his might. 

“No,” You say quietly. “No, no, no!”

The glass plate in your hand fell to the ground and shattered. Dean’s bacon cheeseburger that you made landed on the ground and fell apart. Your body started to quake as tears filled your eyesight. Your knees got weak and you let out an earth-shattering sob fall from your mouth. You felt a pain in your chest that felt like it was squeezing your lungs until they could barely constrict any further. Breathing began to become painful as your tears fell more frequently. You start to hyperventilate as your knees give out and Sam has to race to catch you before you land onto the broken glass that laid on the floor. Your hand got cut on the glass and you could barely even feel it. Your sobs turned violent as you begged for Dean to be there with you. 

“Dean! No, no, this isn’t true. Dean!” You start to shout, hoping, praying that he would walk right through the bunker door with a smile on his face with his green eyes shining.

“Shhh,” Sam said as he smoothed your hair, his arms cradling you as you grew to be weaker from crying.

Your body shook as you let out the painful wails that were buried deep inside your soul. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t hear. You couldn’t see. You couldn’t do anything but feel the pain that was tearing your heart and soul into pieces that would never be repaired. 

- - - -

The walk to your shared room with Dean felt like it was ten miles long. Your face hurts from crying, sobbing over the loss of your husband. You laid in bed, your hand was bandaged by Sam after he basically had to pin you to the ground to fix it for you, thinking about everything that had happened. 

Four Days Ago

You held out your hand for Dean to take it as you climbed in bed. You kissed his pink lips softly as his hand rubbed over your growing belly. He was being careful about everything around you since you told him the news.

“What do you hope it to be?” You asked as you played with his freshly washed hair as he laid his head on your stomach, hoping to feel the baby.

“I already know that it’s going to be a girl because she is just like her mama,” He said with a smile.

“You know it’s a girl?”

“Don’t call her an “it”.” You laughed lightly.

“Okay, why do you hope she’s a girl?’’

“Because, I have always pictured our first baby to be a girl and then when we have a second one, it would be a boy so she can be a big sister and beat up the boys who try to mess with our little boy,” He said with a very bright smile. You smiled at him and pulled him in for a kiss.

- - - -

Day One: Removing

You start to bring in boxes from the truck and head straight to your room. You walk in and start to gather Dean’s belongings up. You grab all of his shirts and throw them into the box. You grab his blanket and fold it up to put it in the box as well. You gather up his PJ’s, his pillows, his jeans, his Jelly Beans that you told him that they belonged in the kitchen instead of the room. You open the top drawer and find his underwear and you throw them in the box as well. You tear the room apart, removing anything Dean from the room. You didn’t want to be reminded of the fact that Dean wasn’t here anymore.

- - - - 

Day Six: Remembering

You stare at the boxes that sit on the other side of the room and you walk over. The first thing inside the box was your wedding ring. You had taken it off because you couldn’t stop crying every time you moved your left hand which gave you a glimpse of the ring.

You turned it over and tears welled up but you quickly put the ring away and then you found the tape that you had made him when he was away for a case on Christmas. You put it in the player.

“Dean, I miss you but I know you are doing what you need to do. I just wish that you had let me go with you.” The frame moves to the kitchen. 

“I made all of your favorites and I really hope that I don’t stress eat them all because that would not be a good idea,” You laughed as the camera shook.

You turned it off and then you looked at more tapes. One was when you moved all of your stuff into his room. You watched as you and Dean were smiling sweetly at each other. You were looking at the camera and he was looking at you. His green eyes bored into the side of your face with a loving gaze. He kissed your cheek and you let out a loud laugh at his gesture. You were happy then. That was before you had gotten married. You were so excited that Dean wanted you to move to his room and you were acting like a giddy teenager who just got asked to Prom. 

- - - -

One day later: Acceptance; The Funeral

Sam and you were the only people at the funeral. Dean’s body rested on the wooden stand and Sam had to hold you so you didn’t collapse. You were crying and sobbing but you were overcome by grief that you briefly forgot about Sam’s grief. You lost your husband but he lost his brother.

“Sam, can I do it?” You asked, you knew that he had done this for so many people, you didn’t want him to do it for his brother.

Sam gave you Dean’s lighter and you lit the flame bottle and you threw it on his body. Fire burst into the sky as soon as the flame touched the stand. You looked down at the lighter in your hands and you didn’t want to get rid of it but you knew that you had to. You wanted Dean to be at peace. 

As the lighter soars through the air, flashes of your wedding day, you telling Dean about your pregnancy, your meeting, you working cases with him, the nights of passion, the nights of tears, the hunts, the singing, the dancing, the reading, the kisses, everything that you ever did together flashed through your mind all at once and you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders. 

You grab Sam’s hand and the two of you walk back to the bunker to eat a burger and a slice of apple pie in honor of Dean Winchester’s life.

Bonus scene:

Three months later:

You lay in the hospital bed with Sam sitting beside you, holding a pink baby blanket and a blue baby blanket.

“It’s twins. A boy and a girl” the doctor said.

She left and Sam gently placed your babies in your loving arms. One look and you saw that they both had Dean’s green eyes and his freckles. You start to cry as you cradle your children and Sam wraps his arms around you and kisses your hair.

“What are their names?” He asks.

“The girl is going to be named Charlie.” 

“And what about the boy?”

“His name is Dean.” You looked down at the little boy in your arms.

“His name is Dean.”

[sellotaped-cookie-crumble]

"Did anyone ask?" me tf?? anyways pls more little In-ho hcs my liege he's my heart and soul rn and I need to protect him with my life k thx

OMG OMG people actually read and like my things?!?!!?

Well, as you asked, more little In-Ho headcanons!!! X]

Sometimes regresses when he doesn't want to. For instance in a really important situation when the VIPs are over and he tries to explain the game, but he just gets super stressed so he just presses the intercom that plays it for them to listen to [there's probably a translated once just in case, specifically for this situation.]

Sometimes when he's small and excited over something, he lets out an involuntary squeak. It surprises him every time, because he's always non verbal when in this state.

Oh he loves noises so so much. If he likes the noise of something, he will repeatedly do it. If he taps two wooden blocks together and likes it, all the guards can hear from outside of the lair is just the continuous noise.

Can't fall asleep without a lullaby when little. He needs a soft melody to put him to sleep, otherwise he'll lay dead awake for the whole day. He got used to falling asleep with lullabies so much, that if someone turns on one of his music boxes he starts to sway from tiredness taking over.

Doesn't like brushing his teeth when little. He's very picky with what is allowed to be put in his mouth, and toothpaste is a big no no. He hates how chalky it is, and makes his mouth burn. So instead he tries to brush his teeth if he knows his mind is feeling a bit fuzzy, so he doesn't have to go through the hassle.

Baths are a must for this baby! He likes a few bubbles, and is fascinated by their rainbow reflection. Always tries to hold one in his hand, or even blow some with his hands.

Really likes stars when regressed. Might have one of those space projectors that you can buy that shine on the ceiling of a room. He sometimes turns that on when he feels in his younger age range. Can stare at those projections for a good hour straight.

I hope these satiate you enough! Thank you once again for like, actually paying attention to my blog!

LOOK AT HOW SILLY HE IS AWWW he's such a small baby I need to rock him back and forth in my arms!!! [I'm running out of happy pictures help!]

[weebsinstash]

Babe! A new Helluva Boss episode just dropped! And Ozzie and Fizz are just so goddamn cute! 😍😭 and Ozzie is such a sweetheart! (I hope he’s genuinely such a softie and not playing an act, we need more softie demons).

Can we please talk about Yandere! Ozzie again? Pretty please with a shit ton of sprinkles on top? 🥺

Bestie thank youuuu I watched that shit immediately and I have so many thoughts

This episode actually shows a big reason why I haven't really published a lot for like, Ozzie or Valentino in terms of actual fics because, my take on Ozzie's personality based purely off his debut appearance would've been a lot more different and now we see that, bro he's, suave yeah, but also, a huge green flag lovable cinnamon roll dork??? Valentino, we only have seen so much of. To be honest the way he's been presented seems to sway from "scary as fuck during gangster business stuff" to "he's kind of a ratchet ho, actually" and I'm not, entirely super confident writing stuff for him because like, I'm more of, assuming? I can't, analyze his character like I can for other characters with more material out for them.

For real though, my current stance on this matter is: Asmodeus, you could go to him and ask for his knowledge and advice on like genuine issues or things you're curious or concerned about like, legit you could sit down and have STD talks with this man ("h-hey Ozzie is it normal to have xyz on my you know what" "oh honey yes that's just like a blood blister from friction you're fine" "oh my god ok good because I was worried it was cancer" "HONEY NO 😩") meanwhile fucking Valentino over here would be like "bitch why you got cellulite" and like make backhanded comments like, oh maybe he could reward you with a boob job instead of your next paycheck (as in like, cosmetic surgery 💀 you know I've thought about that? Yan Valentino who's crazy for ya but, not crazy enough to not make certain, tweaks to your actual body. Maybe he dyes your hair or has it styled a specific way and basically refuses to let you do whatever you want with it. Gets your boobs or ass done. Makes you get fillers/botox for any wrinkles/static lines. Controlling your wardrobe is a must. You're like his little.... pursedog)

(That being said though. I'd still let him hit 😩 reader who gets drunk and fucks around and finds out--)

Anyways though, over here in our corner we believe in unapologetic self indulgence and I still believe a Reader who has magical abilities or powers and whatnot and can travel the rings through whatever convoluted means is a fun time. So. We're gonna do that! I mean. Asmodeus honestly seems chill enough that even if you like, somehow crashed into his club, as long as you were polite and respectful, he'd be chill with letting your hang around, maybe even getting a kick out of teasing you (but never pushing anything too far unless you show interest, and if you show any discomfort or trauma he backs off to re-strategize). I imagine his club would actually be pretty fun? Drinks, live music, although, kind of makes me wonder, how openly horny is this place? Probably not like "coochie in your face" like working for Valentino, so, Reader could even be all "honestly this is such a much more safe welcoming environment to engage in like sexuality" and Ozzie hears this and its like, dude. You might as well have just struck him through the heart with cupids own arrow, but, also, he's curious, what other places have you been?

I'm kind of convinced that if a little imp cunt like Crimson thinks he has the balls to stand up against Ozzie, hostage or not, I kinda feel like. Valentino would probably openly treat Asmodeus like shit. He'd probably be a catty fucking bitch to him. He probably looks at Ozzie as like, a diet coke version of himself, a version who has so much power but doesn't go far enough, and probably scoffs at Asmodeus' romantic attachment (even though Val has some weird on-off thing with Vox himself). Valentino doesn't give two fucks about consent and would probably openly mock Ozzie'e values

Or. They could be big business partners because, maybe there's some sort of inter-Ring porn trafficking pipeline or something, smuggling the good shit up from Lust and trading it with stuff from Sinners, who have more visual variety besides other perks etc

But just picture, Asmodeus and Fizz are, minding their own biz, at the club, chilling, listening to music, eating food vaguely shaped like clocks, and Ozzie's cell rings, and they're both like "aw I bet Reader's calling to say they're having fun at that party or whatever" but they answer it and you're like, hiding in the bathroom or a closet or something, crying, whispering under your breath "d-do you still have a place for me to stay like you said before 🥺 Valentino is really, REALLY drunk tonight and he's really scaring me, he grabbed me and--"

They're both at your exact location in like less than 5 minutes and maybe have to play it off, Ozzie distracting Val while Fizz steals you away, or, juicier, like. Imagine Val snatching your phone from your hand, going through your messages, "who the fuck have you been talking to?" And he pulls like the classic abusive boyfriend move and when he sees you're in frequent contact with someone named "Ozzie" he calls him from your phone and as soon as a male voice picks up, they're both going at it "bitch who the fuck are you?" "Bitch who the fuck are YOU?" "Why you got my baby's number?" "Why do YOU have MY baby's PHONE???" "I'm about to HAVE my foot up your ass, you--" like, you know what I mean? Asmodeus is rolling up and these two are all but butting heads with each other as you have to awkwardly explain how you know both of them and of course, suddenly there's a not quite comfortable conversation about which one of them you... "belong to", neither of them wanting to leave you with the other (although I imagine in a physical fight Asmodeus would win but Valentino would have homefield advantage involving his security dudes)

Either way like.... oh my god watching them lounge in that nice big bed together. Fizz being on Ozzie's chest, like. Give me that 😩😩😩 "oh Reader, baby, so glad you took up our offer for a place to crash, but, since it was so short notice it'll have to be with us tonight" type shit and like you're fine with that but then bedtime comes and. There's Literally Only One Bed. And you're like ok you know what I'm not really in a position to be ungrateful, Valentino could have actually fucking hurt me or trafficked me or whatever, but, you're still small enough that Asmodeus could hypotheticallyyyy just, reach an arm over and scoop up you into his chest for a cuddle, or just have you in the crook of his arm like a cat or a teddy bear. Ozzie definitely sees an immediate perk on Fizz not being so much of a troll as to give you the airhorn treatment your first morning there, so, obviously, they have, multiple motivations to, keep urging you to stay 👀 after all, Val is going to be looking for you in the Pride Ring, and you don't have any other friends, so, you're kind of stuck with their whims aren't you? Unless you try to run off on your own, and I mean. Really. They can just hire someone to bring you back lmao. Or get you themselves. Could you imagine feeling way you uncomfortable around them and slipping away and suddenly you find a little white demon dog on wheels happily rolling up to you out of nowhere and it's. Fucking tracking you for Fizzarolli and Asmodeus, like. Damn, can't even trust the dogs in Hell. Demon dogs in Ohio be like

Anyways idk I just like the idea of like. Combining several ideas, you do the whole "accidentally did the whole Death Fall From The Sky and crash into Vals sunroof, he keeps you in servitude because you have to repay him, eventually you Fall into Lust and you start basically doing double jobs at both clubs and prefer Ozzie and he eventually has to rescue you". Also like Valentino "canonically" humiliates his partners on social media so I can imagine he's just publicly belittling and negging you all the time. One second you're happy at Ozzie's listening to music and eating unholy amounts of onion rings with your quirky well intentioned clown friend, the next week Asmodeus sees a Sinstagram post where Valentino is just like "cutie was whining she couldn't get any tips so I helped her out 😜🤭🍈🍈" and its just. A photo of you in your work uniform where he clearly just reached forward and tore open the front of your blouse and he is just. Full on deadass without any hint of irony making you basically work in your bra and he's just without any remorse posting photos of your running mascara and you're clearly crying but what can you do?

Val posting a photo of him literally shoving a tip INTO your bra, his FINGERS in there, and other like little clips and snippets of him demeaning you while you're like actually fucking blubbering "and make sure to get me extra ice!" "*sobbing noises*" "I didn't hear a REPLY! Do I need to take some of those nice tips I'm helping you make?" "N n noOo I'm sorry" "sorry WHAT?" "M sorry mister Valentino, I'm sorry, I'll get your drink right away mister Valentino" and Val is just slapping your ass HARD as you turn to leave like and just laughing like this is the most fun he's ever had

like I feel like Asmodeus realistically would only be able to do so much IN Pride itself (because would You show up in your boss' turf doing your own shit? Big risk) BUT, I mean. You go down to Lust and you're basically fair game. You show up to your next shift after The Boob Incident and Ozzie's like "giiiiiiiirl imma keep it real with you, I know you wanna try and be independent but I got some concerns--" and he's barely even halfway through it before you're just, TEAR EXPLOSION, "i hate working for him, I HATE IT, I wanna work HERE full time, but I don't have a place to staAaaAaay" and just. Some UGLY crying because you're at wits end

Zero hesitation here's Asmodeus "Sweetie what kind of apartment do you want??? You want a penthouse? I can get you a penthouse?? You want some shopping money?? Tell Big O whatever you need." and the next thing you know Valentino is scrolling through Sinastagram and has to do a double take as your account starts posting all kinds of photos of you looking cute and having fun and, poolside in a bathing suit and you're becoming more comfortable with your body and your sexuality and, he's thirsty absolutely, goes to try and tease you or make fun of you and you're just like "you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid" and just ignore him as Val is forced to watch you pal around with Asmodeus (either as just friends or total fuck buddies like, deadass catch me out here "hey so, there's this position I've always wanted to try--")

[satureja13]

The Boys are slowly trying to get back to normal on Great A'Tuin II after they found the creature. Vlad and Ji Ho are on their way back to their quarters to be fit for their next shift and Jack and Jeb will follow them soon. They are just doing some repairs for a few hours so their sleeping times don't overlap and they can return to a healthier schedule again. They thought about locking the creature up so he can't cause further damage, but since he's able to crack metal containers and seems quite peaceful after Jack repaired his friend, and he learned that the Boys are of no danger to him, they dumped this idea.

Ji Ho and Vlad just passed the 'meadow', when Skully played 'Push It' by Salt 'n' Pepa...

'Can't you hear the music pumping hard? Like I wish you would Now push it

Boy, you really got me going You got me so I don't know what I'm doing

Ah, push it Push-push-push-push it, push it'

Vlad gritted through is teeth: "I'm going to push Skully in the trash compactor one day..."

They are both so nervous to share a bed. This barely ever happened in all those years. (I only remember that night at Tartosa and one night in Tomarang after Ji Ho had been so drained from teleporting and he needed to be near Vlad. And after Vlad crashed Ji Ho and Caleb's wedding ^^' Oh, and after Ji Ho caught Vlad trying to bond with Morgan, omg!)

Vlad looked at the bed: "You can shower first." Does that - does that mean they are going to do it? Just like that?

Ji Ho hurried to the bathroom. Finally! They will sleep together in one bed and do all the things that lovers do!

The panels between the bathroom and their hobby room, where Vlad sat and tried to distract himself with writing, have openings - and Vlad could see Ji Ho in the reflection of his monitor... It was very hard for him to maintain his composure.

Ji Ho put on their Han and Leia shirt and looked at Vlad in anticipation. It will feel so good now that he has all his feelings back! Ji Ho remembered their incredible kiss in the ocean of Tartosa a few weeks ago - and blissfully shivered by the thought of how amazing it had felt. That kiss had shaken him to his very core. How would it feel to go all the way with Vlad? And even though they'd woohooed a few times before, this would be so different. But Ji Ho nervousness was still stronger than his desire. It's still so awkward between them.

Ji Ho sat on their bed - agitated - and waited for Vlad to take a shower and come to bed to him. Vlad looked very nervous too...

The Bond does not show them their exact thoughts, just how they feel. And so the Bond showed Vlad Ji Ho's inner turmoil. Eventually Vlad stood up and looked at him. Ji Ho caught his breath.

And then Vlad cursed under his breath and left... Ji Ho was stunned. What's that supposed to mean now? Does Vlad not want him? Was it too invasive to remove Vlad's bed without his consent?

Vlad went back to the engine room, to Jack. Jack: "What are you doing here?"

Vlad is too tired and exhausted to explain in a somewhat coherent way: "Ji Ho, he just looked at me. Into my soul. And I knew that I was wrong. I'm so sorry, Jack. I was just so upset you lied to me. But Ji Ho - I had to come to apologize. Thank you for what you did for him - for us." Jack: "Are you sleep walking? What are you even talking about?" Vlad: "About the shirts. Ji Ho made me realize that I was wrong." Jack was dazzled: "You are supposed to sleep to be ready for the next shift. Or at least hold him in your arms and do all the stuff you always wanted to - and Ji Ho said you were wrong and sends you back to apologize?"

Vlad: "Eh... he didn't actually say anything." Jack huffed a laugh: "You're wax in his hands, aren't you? Fine, apology accepted. Go back to him. Now. You're sleep deprived and takling nonsense. Or are you a bit afraid, hm?" Vlad: " What? No!"

On his way back, Vlad mulled over how much power Ji Ho has over him. Just one look and his anger is gone. He would go to hell and back for Ji Ho - all over again. Back at their quarters, Vlad held his breath at the beautiful sight. He would endure everything all over again if that would bring him here. To him.

Ji Ho is finally his. Vlad took a quick shower, put on his shirt and slid next to Ji Ho. Ji Ho wore his shirt all those years - for Vlad. He must have always believed in them. And even with all his feelings buried away, he must have loved Vlad. They will get there - at their own pace. And nothing's going to stop them now.

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

Outtakes

So excited - and nervous :3

[zerobaselove]

acting homework | kim jiwoong

pairing: actor!jiwoong x costar!reader

genre: suggestive MINORS DNI

word count: 1096

warnings: no smut but it does get suggestive, lowercase intended, not proofread

prompts: 16. "let's kiss and see where this takes us."

notes: this unsurprisingly made my jiwoong problems so much worse LMAO but apologies as this is a little rushed and not my strong suit

"and, cut." the directors sharp voice cut through the air, ripping you and jiwoong out of the immersion of the kiss scene, not that there was much immersion to begin with. with his busy idol schedule on top of acting, you two hadn't actually gotten to meet until today, having done script readings over zoom and speaking in hypotheticals for weeks; so to say it was a little awkward was an understatement.

the director let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head at the two of you, "let's wrap up for the day," he put down his clipboard before walking over to you and jiwoong. "i need you guys to work on your chemistry, we are going for romance not whatever you think this is. you're both better than that and you know it." his words were harsh, but you couldn't help but agree with his statement; you two weren't exactly giving romance, and something had to change.

the director turned on his heel, walking back to his trailer, leaving the you and the taller man standing there, an awkward silence surrounding you. "so," you spoke up, not really knowing where to take your words. thankfully he took the lead, speaking up himself.

"do you maybe want to hang out? off this set, maybe somewhere with less people breathing down our necks." he let out a laugh, you following suit; the tension already lessening, thank god.

"yeah that sounds good, but where is even private around here?" you wondered out loud, you were in one of the biggest and busiest cities in the country. "well i know it's not very romantic but," he sighed, realizing how lame his suggestion was, "we could always go to my group's company building, there's always empty rooms there. and they're soundproof." he winked at you before his serious composure broke, suddenly covering his face in embarrassment of the implications it might've had. it was cute, you weren't used to seeing this side of him, but it made you feel a bit more at ease.

giving a small nod, you gestured for him to lead the way, the two of you making small talk on the way to the parking lot. surprisingly the conversation flowed better than you had imagined and you found yourself enjoying his conversation at the least. "this is me," he gestured to an all black car in front of you, rushing ahead to open the passenger door for you.

"thank you jiwoong." you smiled, hopping in the front seat as your eyes grazed over the details of the car.

a coffee cup for this morning you presume was sat in the cupholder, the other one filled with loose change. instead of the stereotypical fuzzy dice on the rearview mirror, he had a little charm of a butterfly which you thought was quite cute.

"here," he handed you his phone, spotify open already, "you can be in charge of the music." his smile was contagious, you thought to yourself, unable to contain a small smile from spreading to your lips as he looked at you with joy. you had only nodded as you scrolled through his playlists, heading out of the parking lot.

"oh i love this song," he exclaimed as you played something from his liked songs, causing you to laugh. "i hope so, it's from your likes." a sheepish grin took over his face, chuckling lightly before shaking his head, "you make a fair point."

the rest of the drive had been peaceful, light conversation in between faint melodies playing over the speakers. it was nice, he was nice; you had no doubt about that before, but getting to start to see his personality, you totally saw what everyone else saw in him, beyond his good looks.

arriving at what you assumed was the company building, jiwoong rushed out of the car, opening your door for you yet again. "i know how to use door handles, you know" you chuckled, nodding your head as a thank you before following him to the entrance. "what kind of gentleman would i be then?" tilting his head as the sliding doors to the building opened themselves for you this time.

eventually you ended up at what you assumed was a vocal practice room; there was a keyboard sitting in the corner with a desk and chair, as well as a small two seater couch that looked rather inviting after you'd spent your whole day standing. jiwoong sat down first, ushering you over to get comfortable.

"so, what do you want to do, do you want to practice, or?" you rambled on, not noticing the way jiwoong smiled at your string of words.

"well how about," he thought for a moment; he hadn't expected to like you this much, this quickly, but he couldn't stop thinking about kissing you, for real this time. not for the script or the directors approval, just to feel your lips on his. "let's kiss and see where this takes us, yeah?"

you didn't mean to nod so eagerly, but it was too late, jiwoong's smile widening at the idea of you wanting this as bad as he did. his hand came up to the back of your neck pulling you in slightly, your eyes fluttering shut as your heads tilted, connecting in a kiss that you were convinced had caused fireworks to go off around you. this was no match for earlier today, you thought to yourself. you weren't sure what changed but you were sure that you didn't want to stop.

you let one hand rest on his torso as you leaned in closer, parting your lips slightly, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. sure, it was moving a little fast, but you didn't care; he was addicting.

he tugged on your hair slightly, causing you to moan into his mouth which made his head spin more than he had been prepared for. his free hand had found it's way under your shirt, grabbing you at the waist, sending butterflies to your stomach. "do you want me to stop?" he mumbled against your lips, wanting to make sure you were okay with everything. you let out an opposing hum, but that wasn't enough for him.

"i need words love," the pet name made you dizzy, pulling apart for a moment to nod feverishly, "please, continue." your words were whinier than you meant them to be, but at this point you couldn't be bothered to care.

"then let's keep it up."

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 12!!!

This post features the way I think renting cars works. I'm very sure it doesn't actually work this way, and I could have researched it, but the image is in my head and I thought it was funny having cars on shelves with little description tags like some kind of Automobile Costco Warehouse.

Also, I'm gonna link my playlist because I feel like you all might be interested to see the list of songs I'm working from lol.

Fun fact, the playlist used to be called List of Holding and was meant to be a small collection of songs that I wanted to hear REALLY often. But, um...well, I've since had to change the name :P

This is All Good Omens Now Who Am I Kidding

And yes, I'm very VERY picky about my Queen songs.

OKAY here we go.

Beginning || Previous || Next

********************

In the end, it was surprisingly easy to find a rental company willing to loan you all a car (considering that three out of the four of you have no identification, documents, credit score, valid driver’s licenses, etc.). Deciding on a car, on the other hand, was a bit more complicated.

“I don’t understand why I can’t just miracle the Bentley over,” Crowley whines as the four of you wander the aisles of cars.

“Well for starters, the steering wheel is on the wrong side,” Anathema reasons.

“The wheel’s not on the wrong side! All of these have steering wheels on the wrong side! They drive on the wrong side of the road here too! Americans!” He shoves his hands in his pockets, practically spitting the last word like it’s some kind of curse. Anathema raises an eyebrow at him, but otherwise says nothing.

“Ooh!” Aziraphale calls from further ahead, “Look at this one! The description says that it’s very good for the environment. I mean, aesthetically speaking it isn’t anything extraordinary, but I do like all of these things written on the tag.”

“What kind of car is it?” Anathema asks.

“I believe it says it’s a...Tesla?”

You snort a laugh. “I am NOT getting into one of those things,” You say between giggles.

“Why not?” Aziraphale’s confusion is genuine – you can see it in his face.

“Well,” You begin counting on your fingers, “It farts, it can see ghosts, and it may or may not explode while we’re in it, SO!” You see Crowley’s face light up.

“Sounds like my kind of car!” He says, making his way towards the car that Aziraphale is inspecting.

“No,” Anathema sounds like she’s talking to a child. Or maybe a dog. “No, we are not riding in a Tesla. I’m with you on this one,” she says in your direction.

“I have a suggestion,” You pipe up, raising your hand.

“Oh-ho!” Crowley calls. He leaned slightly to the left, and took off between the aisles. All three of you have to jog to keep up with him. He’s stopped in front of an enormous Hummer. “Now THIS is a CAR!”

Anathema is shaking her head.

“No, wait, listen, I have it,” You say, and everyone turns to look at you expectantly. “It’s the only logical option here. It fits the vintage vibe that you two like, and it’s the most reliable car I know of aside from Bentley.”

“Well go on,” encourages Anathema, “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

“What we need is a 1967 Chevy Impala!”

And THAT, dear Reader, is how you find out that none of them have seen Supernatural. Or heard of it, even. Criminal, really. You resolve to make them watch it next chance you get. In the end, Anathema suggests a very practical SUV and well, you’ve all learned not to argue with her by now.

Honestly the woman needs a cake for putting up with the three of you.

Also, as it turns out, one of the perks of having a current car model is that you can sync up your playlist to the bluetooth. So guess who ends up in charge of the music.

“And THIS one,” You say, flicking through your playlist, “Is a song that was suggested for the Season 3 playlist by Neil Gaiman himself!” And you press play on The Book of Love. And you watch their faces. You want to see their reaction when it gets to the part about wedding rings.

“Are all of your songs for us love songs?” Aziraphale asks. He stopped complaining about your taste in music an hour ago. Crowley is driving, and Anathema has been zoned out for a while now.

“Uuuummm, the ones that aren’t breakup songs you mean? Pretty much yeah.”

Crowley groans.

“Except for like, Queen and Hozier.”

Crowley groans again.

“I thought you liked Queen,” You are shocked and alarmed. Crowley rolls his whole head (probably because you wouldn’t see him roll his eyes behind his sunglasses).

“Go on then,” he says, “Which Queen songs do you have on that playlist of yours?” He glares at you through the rearview mirror. Suddenly, you hesitate.

“Um...Somebody to Love, and Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy,” You finish meekly. Crowley nearly crashes the car. Whether it was on purpose or not doesn’t matter. Anathema takes the wheel and he gets demoted to the back seat. Next to you. As a peace offering, you hand him your phone with your spotify open, and let him take charge of the music. You feel that you might not survive the ride otherwise.

Google Maps pegs the estimated driving time from NYC to New Orleans at 19 hours. Splitting the driving between a demon and a responsible human woman, the four of you manage a respectable 12 hours including a number of breaks to: use the washroom, get coffee, get food, look at the view, poke around a used bookshop, pick some apples, eat the apples, and buy some fudge. Crowley refuses to admit that he may or may not have stopped time once or twice, and Aziraphale refuses to account for your sudden bursts of energy from time to time (conveniently and suspiciously whenever there was a stop he was interested in).

So, having made excellent time, all four of you arrive in New Orleans. Crowley is back at the wheel now, and he pulls the car into the parking lot of The Ritz. Because of course it’s The Ritz again. Anathema doesn’t even comment this time. You figure she was probably expecting it. Learning fast, that one. You check in, and aren’t all that surprised to find that you’ve been booked into the fanciest suite in the place once again. According to the pamphlet at the front desk, this suite is supposed to only be two rooms, but when you arrive, you find that it actually contains 3. Why? Supernatural beings who influence their surroundings.

“You really do have some expensive taste,” You say casually to Aziraphale as you place your bag on the floor.

“It was Crowley who booked this one,” the angel replies, inspecting the knick-knacks on a shelf to his left.

“Crowley? Trying to impress you, no doubt.”

“Pft!” Comes Crowley’s response from behind you, “Right, and not at all because to get up here you need a special passkey, which keeps unexpected guests few, far between, and easy to notice.” He gives you a pointed look over his sunglasses. “We’ve been lucky so far that we’ve been left alone since Heathrow. But don’t think for a minute that he won’t be back.”

“That’s...fair.” You pause and think for a minute. “Then we should probably limit going out too. Unless we really need to.”

“That would be best, yes,” Anathema agrees, “But please, leave the hotel staff alone.”

Well, honestly she could only expect that request to go so far once Aziraphale found the room service menu.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

[ofgrenvde]

Interrogation - Self Para

mentioned: sterling phillips @poisonvdhonvy, @ofemeralds, @c0exiist, @rhysx (tagging you all bc this is onyx circuit related and all the founding members should know)

tw: torture, tw: blood

The metal door slammed shut behind Zelie as she entered the small, windowless room. The space smelled of copper and fear. The piece of shit who started all this sat strapped to a metal chair bolted to the floor, his face already showing signs of the preliminary questioning he'd received before she arrived. This nobody—this expendable grunt who'd been with them less than six months—had nearly destroyed everything she'd built.

"I'm told you have a fascinating story to tell me about the Grand Royale," Zelie said, as she removed her designer jacket and carefully folded it over the back of the opposite chair. Her temple throbbed, even after all this time from the injuries she'd sustained during the blast. Injuries that she should have never sustained because the operation should never have occurred. "About how you decided to use my organization's name to blow up Min-ho Kang."

Douglas's eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at her. "It wasn't like that. I was trying to help the Circuit. Make a statement. Show them we're not to be..."

The crack of her hand across his face resounded against the concrete walls. She hadn't come here for excuses.

"The Onyx Circuit doesn't need your help making statements," she said, pulling a small leather case from her purse. She unrolled it, revealing a collection of gleaming surgical tools. Her head tilted as she made a show of running her fingers over them, "We have protocols. Years of careful planning that you jeopardized because you wanted to impress us."

His eyes widened at the instruments. "I thought... I just wanted to prove my worth. You always talk about evolution, about forcing change."

"And you thought bombing a meeting of all six family heads on Valentine's Day was subtle?" She selected a thin, curved blade from her collection. "Do you understand the chaos you've created? I was in the building, Douglas. I got injured because of your stupidity. Does this pretty face look like it would welcome a marring?"

Sweat beaded on his forehead. "The timing was meant to follow up on the first incident. I thought-"

Zelie felt rage burning behind her eyes. This fool had been studying her, mimicking her methods without understanding the strategy behind them.

"My pattern." She traced the blade along his collarbone, not yet breaking skin. "Did my pattern include leaving evidence? Did it include using our actual calling cards? Did it include creating a direct link between the Onyx Circuit and a murder? Did it include injuring our own people?"

The first cut was shallow, yet his scream sounded like music to her ears.

"Please! I can fix this. I can tell the police it was just me, acting alone. The Circuit doesn't have to."

His words dissolved into a gurgling cry as she carved a deliberate line across his chest.

"The moment you planted those cards, you made this about all of us." Blood pooled against his shirt as she worked. "Now I need to know exactly what you did. What evidence you left. Who you talked to."

For forty minutes, she extracted every detail, every connection, every loose end that needed tying. His screams eventually gave way to whimpers, then to broken confessions. He'd stolen the cards from their supply room. He'd studied the security system at the Grand Royale during his shifts as a waiter there. He'd crafted the bomb using techniques from an online forum.

"I didn't tell anyone," he gasped, his face pale from blood loss. "I swear on my life."

Zelie wiped her blade clean on a handkerchief. "Your life isn't worth much at the moment, Douglas."

She stood back, surveying her work with critical eyes. The final question remained. "Why Kang? Out of all the family heads, why target him specifically?"

His answer came through bloodied lips. "Heard you talking... about the underground fighting... how the Kangs were the biggest obstacle to expansion. Thought you'd be pleased."

Zelie felt cold fury replacing her rage. This man had been listening, watching, planning—all while misunderstanding everything about her vision.

"The Kangs were an obstacle to be manipulated, not eliminated." She picked up a larger blade. "Their operations provided leverage against the others. The vacuum you've created will cause chaos for months."

His eyes widened in genuine terror. "I'm sorry. Please. I can still be useful. I'll do anything."

Zelie leaned in close. "You've done enough."

Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the room, carefully wiping blood spatter from her face with a pristine white cloth. She nodded to Sterling, who waited in the hallway.

"Clean that up," she said, wincing as the movement pulled at her injured arm. Stupid man made her pull something during her interrogation. "And find out if he had any close friends in our organization. Anyone who might have known what he was planning. Tell your wife it wasn't us. That maggot went above our heads."

She checked her reflection in a compact mirror, ensuring no trace of the interrogation remained on her features. The blood had gotten everywhere. She sighed, dropping the bloodied cloth into Sterling's waiting hands.

[notasapleasure]

Opening sentence meme

Tagged by @colleybri thank you, lovely! :) I think I got tagged in this last year, and my number of fics/their variety hasn’t exactly changed much since then, but hey ho! A reminder to me - and some background for newer friends here - that I do sometimes write things that aren’t just the same Brassian smut again and again…

Nevertheless, the first 6 are all Brassian, all the time. Look, I know what I – and about three other people – like, and I’m just going to keep finding ways to bake that cake again and again until Tony Gilroy ruins my fun (lol good luck Tony, canon is whatever I feel like).

1. don’t need any help to be breakable

The trip to Morlana One had been uneventful.

Not strictly doing anything different from ‘Counting on You’, etc. (#3 below, see also #6), but specifically exploring the facet of Brassian that might exist in a world where the alibi was true, ish, only ‘helping Cassian back to his chair’ was a euphemism for punching him. Finishing this was a challenge to myself, and I did it, so I’ll carry on being smug about that I guess.

2. The world turning at his pace

It should have been a simple job.

One-shot van sex AU. No I don’t need to explain myself and I won’t.

3. Counting on You

The rain on Ferrix is heavy when it arrives.

Needed to keep scratching the itch of ‘Only ever just one night’ (below, #6), so this is the outlet I use mostly when I just need to write some Brassian filth. Theoretically working towards a ‘five times they X, one time they Y’ format. Eventually.

4. The Saga of the Coal-biter and the Skraeling

I was born the year Erik the outlaw discovered Greenland.

My beloved cuckoo-child that’s an excuse to process all those years of research while being self-indulgent about the blorbos. As if it wasn’t going to be niche enough, Brasso insisted he wanted to tell it in the first person.

5. Escape velocity

Cassian is working his way through the crowds at Cavo's.

Ok, this isn’t really the same Brassian fic as always, it’s the most wholesome thing I’ve written for the pair, which is tragically ironic given I’d just ‘met’ @r0b0tb0y and decided to inflict a birthday gift on them. I owe you tentacles, buddy.

6. Only ever just one night

There isn't really a knock at the make-shift door.

My first Andor fic! That I swore I wouldn’t write. Then swore would be a one-shot. Then spent ages imagining a sequel to that seemed like too much effort to write. So instead I wrote variations on it again and again.

7. Whumptober 2022: ‘You better start talking’

Francis Crawford was sitting outside Kings Cafe in the bright grey light of a crisp autumn day in Glasgow.

I did a whole set of Whumptober fics for my 1980’s rock band AU for The Lymond Chronicles (a series of historical novels set in the 16th century), and didn’t actually finish uploading them to ao3 (they're all over at @theartistknownaslymond), but this is the most recent one I uploaded. Game of Kings setting, Will Scott trying to get his confession.

8. Whumptober 2022: Blood-covered hands

When Francis came round, he was on his back in the middle of the floor.

Lymond band AU, prequel-era – got to account for those galley scars somehow!

9. Whumptober 2022: Forced to Kneel/’Hold them Down’

Francis' usual pre-gig routine was always disturbed when he was at a music festival.

Lymond band AU, Disorderly Knights – Francis having a bad day in a tent, no whipping posts needed!

10. Whumptober 2022: Toxic/Withdrawal

"Eurgh, Pippa I feel like shit..."

Lymond band AU where Joleta survives (an overdose rather than a stabbing in) Disorderly Knights.

Patterns

So I evidently love a short, sharp introduction. One of the only bits of writing advice I ever remember receiving was about writing a pithy first sentence so I guess that tracks - though this isn't done consciously at all.

I think I'm always trying to convey some relatively straightforward piece of setting detail and if possible smuggle in a question at the same time (why's the door makeshift, why was that guy an outlaw, how's there a story if things were uneventful). I want the reader to experience something sensory if possible - the sound of rain/crowds/a knock/a music festival, or the afternoon light in Glasgow, or the disorientation/unease of arriving in the middle of something - while also having a fairly clear picture of where we are temporally or geographically, or which characters are there and whose perspective we've got. You can't always get all that in a single sentence but I like my opener to fill as much as possible in using as few words as possible - or that's what I'd say if I was bullshitting an essay on it for a class in the morning :)

Tagging - though no pressure as I don't know how recently you might have done this or if you have time: @boatcats, @elwenyere , @faceofpoe , @r0b0tb0y , @stripedroseandsketchpads , @batri-jopa and anyone else who likes, feel free to say I tagged you!

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist

Ch. 25: Approval

Yoongi’s first week home came and went and before he knew it, Hyeri was heading off at 6 in the morning for her first day of work on her new drama. He woke up to see her off feeling full from her excited smile as she bounced out the door in glee. A few hours later he grabbed his things and took off for his studio.

There’s a chill that shoots through Yoongi’s body when he takes his first steps into the company building. He’s trying to remain optimistic as he steps on the elevator and gets hit with a storm of anxiety. The fear starting to cloud his mind before he even makes it to his floor has him feeling suffocated. Once he realized how truly afraid he was of being back in his old tempting environments, he couldn’t seem to shake the dark cloud creeping in telling him that he’d end up falling back into the same shit he was in before.

When he steps into his studio he’s immediately hit with the memory of the last time he was there. It’s actually a bit of a fuzzy memory, he was pretty fucked up at that time. He shudders then takes a look around. Everything in his studio has remained largely untouched. He can tell a few things were moved a little, likely from someone searching for any hidden bottles. Other than that the place is spotless.

He takes a seat in his chair and lets out a deep breath. It shouldn’t be this difficult, but just getting started takes him about 10 minutes of idly sitting there spinning slowly in his chair before he finally powers his computer on and gets to work. It’s rocky at first, keeping his focus for more than a few minutes at a time is proving difficult. But just like the glass of water in the desert that she is, he gets a text from Hyeri that gives him the boost he needs.

[Hyeri]: My first day is going great so far! I don’t have much time, I just wanted to tell you I love you and I’m proud of you 😘

Yoongi takes a deep breath and smiles. Somehow she’s always there at the right time.

[Yoongi]: You give me so much strength, my love. I’m proud of you too and I’ll never stop loving you ❤️

That’s all it took. One of seven people he has the deepest love for is cheering him on. He can do this. He cracks open his bottle of iced coffee and dives head first into his music.

Minho suggested he start easy when he returns to work. If things start to feel overwhelming then he should call it a day and allow himself time to relax and recharge. Hours fly by and Yoongi is nowhere near stopping. The anxiety he felt coming into the building has been washed away in a decaffeinated wave of confidence and determination. He’s got 2 months worth of music to go through and polish and he’s fired up getting through song after song. He’s only pulled out of his tunnel vision by a knock at his door.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Namjoon says when Yoongi opens the door for him.

“Yeah, I’ve been here since this morning,” Yoongi says inviting Namjoon to take a seat on the couch while he returns to his work chair.

“This morning?” Namjoon asks confused. “Like a few hours ago?”

“What? I mean early this morning. I got here around 9 I think.”

“Hyung,” Namjoon chuckles. “It’s 3 am, you’ve been here all day?”

“I have?” Yoongi questions looking at his phone that confirms it’s currently 3:15 am. “Shit,” he chuckles. “Yeah I guess I’ve been here all day.”

“Rainbow didn’t call you to come home yet?” Namjoon jokes.

“She usually doesn’t bother when I’m here,” Yoongi laughs. “I guess I should probably go, huh?”

“You’ve been here all day, hyung. Get some rest.”

“What about you? Why are you still here?”

“The usual. I was about to head out now though. You should come.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi swivels in his chair to start saving his work and shutting his computer down. “Need a ride?”

“You know I do,” Namjoon laughs.

Yoongi finishes gathering his things and the pair head down the quiet hall to the elevator. The building is mostly deserted at this hour aside from the two or three night owls quietly working away in their own spaces. They make it out to Yoongi’s car and take off.

“It’s good to see you back, hyung,” Namjoon says during the ride. Ever since they all got together for dinner upon Yoongi’s return Namjoon has been quite amazed at the difference. For two months the last image of Yoongi that was left in his mind was of him wreaking of alcohol while they hit him with an intervention that all of them had hoped wouldn’t have to happen. Now he looks like he’s back to his old self and smells like sweet lemon and ginger tea instead of booze.

“It’s good to be back,” Yoongi smiles. “And thank you.”

“I told you the other day you don’t have to thank me. You’re my bro.”

“I know, but I mean Hyeri. Thanks for looking out for her.”

“I always look out for her,” Namjoon chuckles. “She’s my sis.”

“I know that too,” Yoongi chuckles trying to find his way to the point he’s trying to make. “It’s just that you know I worry about her a lot and when I felt like I was so messed up that I couldn’t be there for her, I always felt better knowing you were there.”

“Of course,” Namjoon reiterates. “You’re both my family, if I can ever do anything to make sure my family doesn’t hurt, then I will.”

“That’s why you’re our leader,” Yoongi smiles. “I just know I can trust you with my life, and that includes Hyeri. She doesn’t have any siblings so you fill that space for her.”

“Hyung,” Namjoon says sensing some bit of nervousness from Yoongi. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“What do you think about…marriage?”

“Marriage?” Of all things Namjoon could have guessed, marriage isn’t one of them.

“We talked about it and I can’t get the thought out of my mind. I might just be thinking crazy, but I’m not sure. What would happen if we got married? I’m crazy right? But if we did…would you be ok with it? Would everyone else be ok with it?” Yoongi is rambling as he tends to do when he’s nervous. Beads of sweat are starting to form on his forehead and he’s trying his best to hold his breath steady.

“Slow down.” Namjoon shakes his head. He’s a little endeared by how flustered Yoongi is when trying to discuss the topic, but he also feels he may be getting ahead of himself. “You’ve only been back home a week.”

“I know, it’s crazy.”

“Hyung chill. There’s a lot you need to think about first, like how no one even knows that you two are even dating. If you two show up married out of the blue what do you think people will think? Or maybe you could stay a secret, but you’ve already expressed how upsetting it is for you having to hide now, how long can you keep hiding when you’re married?”

“You’re right,” Yoongi sighs pulling up to Namjoon’s building.

“I’m not saying you should never do it, if that’s what you really want to do. I just want you to think about it. You can’t rush into this because there are some things you won’t be able to undo, you know?” Namjoon gives Yoongi a look that tells everything. A look telling Yoongi that regardless of how he feels, he has to think about the fans who could feel betrayed if he doesn’t approach things carefully.

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods. “I understand.”

“Get some sleep.” Namjoon opens the door to exit the car. “I’ll see you later.”

Yoongi nods and watches Namjoon shut the door and enter his apartment building. He appreciates Namjoon’s input, and as the only person that knows both he and Hyeri the most, he’s happy he could get those feelings out to a knowing third party. Still, as he drives home he feels a little disappointed. He wanted Namjoon to be more on board with the idea, although his advice was absolutely correct, he just hoped to get a more solid vote of approval. Yoongi parks his car when he gets home wondering why he suddenly felt the need to get Namjoon’s approval, not as a fellow group member who would no doubt be effected by this, but as a close friend of Hyeri’s. As her family.

Yoongi isn’t surprised to see Hyeri still awake in bed when he gets home. He could hear her mumbling lines to herself as soon as he walked through the door then entered the bedroom to see her sitting up going over her script.

“You’re home?” She asks somewhat surprised.

“You didn’t think I would be?” Yoongi chuckles. He drops his things near the door where he’ll pick them back up in a few hours after he gets some sleep and heads right back to the studio.

“Usually you stay the night in your studio when you stay this late,” she says putting her script aside and rolling towards him while he removes his clothes.

“Did you want me to?” He lays next to her and wraps his arms around her.

“No,” she chuckles. “I like it better when you’re here.”

“You can thank Namjoon for that. He talked me into coming home for some rest. I didn’t even know it was this late.”

“Of course Namjoon was there too,” she jokes. “What’s he been working on?”

“I’m not sure, we didn’t even talk about music.”

“The two of you not talking about music? That’s crazy!” She jokes. “What did you guys talk about then?”

“Well…” Yoongi hesitates unsure if he should tell her he brought up getting married. Maybe now isn’t the time. Namjoon was right, he should slow down. “Just a little bit of everything.”

“Right,” she nods unconvinced.

“Why are you still up anyway?” He asks trying to change the subject. “Don’t you have an early call tomorrow…or today I guess?”

“I just wanted to run through my lines one more time.”

“At nearly 4 in the morning?”

“I didn’t get home until two,” she giggles. “Now that you’re here I can get some sleep.”She snuggles closer to him and he kisses her forehead.

Through the course of the week the routine stays the same. Hyeri leaves extra early, Yoongi leaves hours later. They both get home at incredibly late hours, usually within a couple of hours of each other. Then they wake up hours later and repeat the process. Yoongi likes the routine, it gives him a new alcohol free normal.

The following week Yoongi has his session with Minho. He’s in brighter spirits this time talking about the songs he’s been working on, the plan he and the guys are working on for their next comeback, and his excitement for the future. Of course Minho brought up marriage and going public and Yoongi told him about the talk he had with Namjoon. While Yoongi spoke about how he felt Namjoon was completely right and he should slow down and really think before doing anything drastic, Minho noticed a slight shift in his tone. Even though Yoongi doesn’t realize it, he began speaking softer and almost as if he were a child talking about how he wanted something for Christmas but his parents said he wasn’t old enough for such a thing. Yoongi quietly commented that he was a little let down that Namjoon wasn’t 100% on board, and that’s when Minho made the realization.

“Have you brought this up to the other members?” Minho asks.

“No,” Yoongi admits. “After talking to Namjoon I figured it’s not really necessary for me to bring it up to everyone.”

“Why did you decide to tell Namjoon about it?”

“He’s the one who knows me and Hyeri the most,” Yoongi shrugs. “If he thinks it’s a good or bad idea when it comes to her, then I trust him.”

“Right,” Minho nods. “Why did you feel let down though?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi mumbles looking down at his lap.

“What would have been a less disappointing reaction from him?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “I just thought he’d be a little more…excited? Supportive? No, he is supportive. Everything he told me was right, but something still felt like he wasn’t sure about it.”

“Sure about what?”

“Sure about…” Yoongi pauses to think. He knows he keeps talking in circles because he’s struggling to articulate what he’s really feeling, but Minho finally helps him out.

“Would you marry Hyeri if Namjoon was not ok with it?”

Yoongi remains silent.

“Would you continue dating Hyeri if Namjoon didn’t approve of it?”

Yoongi closes his eyes with his lips pressed shut.

“It’s not about the group, because you haven’t even brought it up to the others, so why do you feel you need Namjoon’s approval over anyone else’s?”

Yoongi sighs and opens his eyes. “He’s her brother. If I were to propose to her I would want her family’s approval first. He’s her family.”

“Do you feel like he disapproves?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi groans. “He wasn’t really clear whether he approves or not, he just told me I should slow down, which is fine I understand his point, but I was hoping he would be more…enthused.”

Minho cracks a small smile. He only wanted Yoongi to say it so that he could face it. Yoongi knows that too and as much as he grits his teeth, he knows he won’t stop feeling a bit down about it if he doesn’t acknowledge and work through it. He knows he’s done a lot of things to betray everyone’s trust, so he feels Namjoon is just cautious not wanting Hyeri to get hurt. This thought only turns into a self depreciating cycle in his mind where he has visions of every drink, every stranger, every lie he told that chipped away at everyone’s trust in him until he became nothing but a heavy burden and a liability. He did this to himself.

He thought he had worked through a lot of these feelings, but as one wound was treated, there was another that had been ignored.

Sometimes you have to hurt to heal.

All of the nights Yoongi did everything in his power to ignore those feelings only caused those wounds to go untreated and get infected. Now he’s having to feel the pain he tried to avoid as the scabs are ripped off and the wounds are treated the way they should have been in the first place.

Yoongi goes above and beyond with everything he does these days. Healing doesn’t happen overnight, so in the meantime he’s just trying to get by. Trying to get by, by overcompensating for every fault that exists in his mind. He assists in any project he can when discussing the group’s comeback plans. He gets home in the wee hours of the night and finds the energy to make Hyeri a small breakfast that she can have on her way to work in the morning. He then wakes up with her after only a few hours of sleep to see her off and give her a loving start to her day. When he’s at the studio he entertains anything the members bring him and offers whatever time he can to doing whatever they ask. He feels it’s the least he can do for times that can’t be undone.

Yoongi has been home a month now. He’s been back on his regular work schedule for three weeks, and he’s been slowly dissolving into a self deprecating yes-man. The good thing is that no one is looking to take advantage of him so he’s not being used or abused, however he’s not getting much sleep and it’s starting to show on his face. No one seems to notice though, except Minho.

Deadlines are approaching, track lists are being finalized, behind the scenes cameras are everywhere, and dance practices are starting up again. The new routine Yoongi molded into has been blown away and now he finds himself in the chaotic whirlwind of the comeback schedule. There’s no set date for the album yet, but as always there’s still a lot to be done before the public even knows a thing. Recordings, promo videos, photoshoots, endless meetings to discuss concepts, album designs, merchandise, and tour dates. The dreaded tour that Yoongi finds himself stressed out about. Thankfully there’s still quite a bit of time before he has to face that head on. For now, another of his past demons is returning to haunt him.

“Stay home? Why?” Yoongi asks his manager through the phone. He received the call at 7 am, just before he was about to leave for the studio. Suddenly being asked to stay home has his heart racing.

“The media is at the entrance,” his manager solemnly says. “It’s seems someone has caught wind of the lady who stole your Black card in LA. She was convicted and somehow a reporter here learned that you were one of her many victims. There’s….a lot of buzz right now and we just want to look out for your safety.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi groans. “It’s that bad?”

“We’ll be putting out a statement soon asking for privacy at this time, but until things calm down staying home would be best for you right now. If you need anything at all we can make sure you get it, but you should lay low.”

As if being secluded in a cabin for two months wasn’t enough laying low. How bad could the media be right now? And why? He’s a victim in this case, what do they want him to say? He sighs heavily and lays across the couch clutching his head. He had an entire day planned, what about that? With deadlines getting closer he can’t afford to lose time like this. Is it so bad that it’s worth this? He decides to check socials because he knows the trending tags will tell him.

The trending tags told him a lot.

[Yoongi]: Call me as soon as you can

[Yoongi]: Or come over

[Yoongi]: You should definitely come over