#i remembered it gives like suggested tag things I’m so stupid

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: cute little way to end the night .. OR SO U THINK

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authors note: 😋😋 dont be mad guys im writing the next part asap. if you arent already part of the tag list, let me know in the replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

(pretend he’s wearing the same clothes stop)

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dstarkeynews Drew and Y/N’s first appearance in a year on September 30th in Santa Barbara, California!

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user1 i haven’t heard about them in forever

user2 ALMOST HAD HIM

user3 I thought they broke up 😭😭

↳ user4 i think they’re on and off

user5 I remember them from 2018 they’re so cute!

user6 tbh i’m happy for them !!

↳ user6 i’m crying .

user7 y’all don’t love them like i do

user8 i was really hoping they didn’t break up omg

user9 they thought they could keep it a secret 😒

user10 WERE THOSE FLOWERS FOR Y/N ????!?$:!:! OMGMGF 😭

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you’re carrying a basket of groceries as you walk with leila through the area. there’s not much on your mind besides checking items off of leila’s list. and it feels nice not having to worry about anything because leila makes you feel normal, makes you and drew feel normal.

speaking of, drew’s just trailing behind you both, though he checks out a few things whenever he sees something he wants to try.

eventually he comes up from your left side and places something he’s bought into your basket, then takes it from you so he can hold your hand with his opposite hand. it feels so natural that you don’t even react, and even if you did acknowledge it, you don’t care.

“it’s so nice to just be out here like regular human beings,” you say, though you note that there’s always a few following behind you three but keep their distance to be a little respectful of your space.

you can hear them giggling every now and then or saying ‘hi’ to their videos that they capture you in, but you don’t think much of it. you think it’s adorable.

drew, however, is itching to get to the car and go home already. leila’s complained twice already that they haven’t completed her list but you’ve already bought everything important for tonight, so you just suggest you go home so both parties still benefit.

leila’s a stubborn one but she gives in when drew is pleading with his palms together. you laugh when she says she can’t stand seeing his “stupid fucking puppy dog eyes”.

when you’re done with your little mini-trip, you return to the car. leila is skipping over with two bags of things while you and drew walk together behind her, swinging your hands back and forth.

he opens your door for you and takes the basket from you so he can keep it in the backseat with leila who happily takes it, and you slide into the passenger’s seat without a thought.

“come on,” his voice pulls you out of the tiktok you’re watching, and you switch your phone off, leaving it on the bed as you drag a blanket with you.

drew’s heading downstairs and he dives right into the sofa, awaiting for everyone to come down already. you wrap the blanket around your body as you shuffle over, seating yourself by his legs.

he sits up instinctively and wraps his arms around you, the side of his head resting on your shoulder as you look around. only a few of you are there—you’re just missing gia and libby who, you guess, are getting the snacks and drinks. and you’re right.

“incoming everyone! don’t be alarmed,” libby says as she and gia make way with the food, and you’re in awe at the spread they’re providing.

“you have your homemade sandwiches—”

“that leila bought from the store,” libby is playing gia’s truth echo that makes you and the others laugh.

“assortment of chips!”

“that i got carried away with and ate half of!”

“can’t go wrong with your candies!”

“theo you owe me fifteen dollars!”

“what?”

“and lastly,” gia closes it out as libby runs back to the kitchen to bring over the tray of cups and drinks. you see oscar rub his hands together mischievously as leila practically drools at the sight. “our drinks!”

libby holds up a cup, “with your name on this complimentary glass that you get to take home after the trip.”

you woo as the glass cups get passed down, and you compare yours with drews while giggling about the free gift. you reach for one of the bottles and fill your glass with it, then take a sip.

“this is what you were working all day on while we were away?” leila asks the girls, extremely impressed by how much dedication they had to providing everyone snacks for her movie night. it essentially is just putting the items into cute bowls and calling it a day, but still. it made her heart warm.

you reach forward and grab a few of the candies and hand one to drew, hinting that you want to try it together. these were purchased by you because you were curious about the taste earlier while you were out.

“ready?” you ask him quickly as he already knows the drill, getting prepared to try it as you count it off. “one, two—” you lean your head back to let the multiple candies you have slide into your mouth while drew just pops his one into his mouth.

as you chew, you raise your eyebrows in surprise. they're really good, and he nods, a small ‘oh yeah’ escaping his lips as he sucks some of the chocolate off of his fingers. you reach over to grab the small bowl, then keep it for yourself without saying anything.

you and drew share a blanket so you’re able to hide the bowl on your lap while he reaches to fill his glass with a drink. oscar hits play on the first movie and you lean into drew’s side to watch the movie this way.

you fall asleep during the second movie, long story short. you can’t help it. but at least you last longer than leila, who fell asleep toward the end of the first one. she was the first one to fall asleep during her own movie night.

drew’s arm tightens around you for a moment, and he shifts to look down at you, finally noticing you’ve completely drifted off.

with a sigh, he decides to call it a night and he rises, sliding out from under you. you stir but don’t fully wake, instinctively curling into the empty spot left by his body.

he hesitates, but then scoops you up gently. you don’t wake up even a bit while your head rests against his chest and he carries you upstairs to the guest room.

the room is already dimly lit by the moonlight filtering in through the windows. he carefully lays you down on the bed, your body finding the most comfortable position as he covers you with the blanket. your breathing is steady as you fall deeper into sleep, and he stands there for a moment, watching you in the soft light, before he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against your leg as he retrieves his phone from his back pocket.

for the first time all day, drew unlocks his phone, the screen lighting up with a shit ton of notifications. missed calls, texts, and a few unread emails flash across the screen, and he scrolls through them with a frown, trying to catch up.

as he gets back up to return to his side of the bed, he swipes through several messages, most of them from his close friends—some teasing, some concerned—before he pauses on one that makes his heart sink.

his eyes narrow, his thumb hovering over the text as his mind races. he was expecting a couple of messages, but not this. not this many. his phone buzzes again, a few more messages lighting up the screen, and he rubs a hand across his face, letting out a quiet, frustrated breath.

his gaze flickers to you again, making sure you’re still fast asleep. the last thing he wants is to wake you up with this, but he glances back down at his phone.

he presses the power button on his phone with a little more force than necessary, the screen going black, then he tosses the phone onto the nightstand with a dull thud. he quickly winces when the sound is a little louder than he expected.

his heart skips a beat when you stir, your eyes fluttering open just slightly, still half-asleep.

“star?” you mumble softly, the name slipping out instinctively.

drew freezes, his gaze immediately shifting to you as you shift under the covers. he forces a smile, leaning forward a little, his voice low and soothing. “sorry,” he murmurs. “just dropped my phone. go back to sleep, okay?”

you blink at him, your eyes barely open, but you manage a small nod, already too drowsy to fully process what’s going on. you can’t read that he’s just lied to you.

“mmf, okay…” you mumble, your body curling into the pillow as you drift back into sleep.

he lets out a quiet sigh of relief, watching as your breathing evens out again. for a moment, the tension in his chest eases, but only just. he leans back, letting his head rest against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before turning off the bedside lamp.

as the darkness settles around him, the weight of everything presses down harder, and he turns onto his side, facing you. the soft glow of moonlight still filters through the window, and you look so . . . peaceful.

he stays like that for a while, watching you sleep, his mind swirling with thoughts he can’t quiet.

but eventually, drew pulls the blanket up over his shoulder and closes his eyes, trying to shut out the noise in his head and go to sleep.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey

[cheesiedomino]

Second Chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text �� he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T

now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.

As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.

Life really can be cruel at times.

“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”

One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.

You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.

“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”

God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.

“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”

“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.

It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.

“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.

“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.

“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.

It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.

“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.

You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.

“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”

You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.

It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.

Must be nice..

Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?

What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.

It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.

‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.

Minho 🐈:

Hey is this still ___’s number?

You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.

Yes… who’s this?

After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?

Your phone dings again.

Minho 🐈:

Srsly -_-

Did you really delete my number??

Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.

Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P

Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.

Minho 🐈:

Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)

No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!

Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.

You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.

Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”

Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.

You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?

“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.

It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.

You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.

Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.

He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.

You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.

“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”

Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.

“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.

“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”

They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.

“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.

Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.

He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.

“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.

“Of course dear, anything for you.”

Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(

Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’

Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.

The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.

You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.

His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.

You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.

“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.

Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.

“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.

He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.

After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.

“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.

“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.

You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.

“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”

Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”

“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”

Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.

“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.

“Hm?”

“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.

You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.

Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.

[End <3].

[thedevilspearl]

asking them stupid questions — all brothers

a/n: having a hard time writing smut atm so here’s some silly headcanons with the brothers. i was really tired when i proofread this so there may be some mistakes.

tags: 2k words, no gender specified, reader x lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub + belphegor. (belphie’s is a little suggestive).

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

lucifer has had enough.

it’s been a long day and he wished for a quiet night in his office to relax with some tea while overlooking the bills his brothers have riled up.

but he’s quite distracted tonight.

peace and quiet is not an option. especially with you loitering, floating around his office and touching all the trinkets and décor. you’ve never shown interest in them before, but tonight, all of a sudden lucifer’s office is the most inviting place in the world.

“mc?”

“yes, honey?”

“is something the matter.”

there is a painstakingly long silence before you answer. “….no.”

letting out a little sigh, he asks, “are you quite sure?”

you hum with a subtle nod, barely looking him in the eye and he is now certain something is wrong.

“mc, please. if you aren’t feeling well, you can tell me about it. you don’t need to make this difficu—”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

“what?” lucifer’s voice croaks.

“it’s just that i felt sad thinking about how you might not love me anymore if one day i turned into a worm and couldn’t turn back into me.”

“mc, in what world would you ever turn into a worm?”

“most likely this one. remember that time mammon accidentally turned me into a sheep in spells class? i was cute as a sheep, so it was okay. but as a worm, i’d be small and slimy and gross. i’d be unloveable.”

“that is enough,” he rises from his chair, speaking with command but still gentle enough to not upset you further. “you shouldn’t think of such things. it is so silly of you to think i would ever stop loving you.”

“luci….”

“if i must spell it out for you, then yes. i would still love you if you were a worm and i would carry you everywhere with me to ensure you’re never lost or hurt. i would need something small and protective to carry you in, but yes. i will always love you.”

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

“if there was a zombie apocalypse and i was bitten, what would you do?”

“hah?!” mammon’s face contorts at your random question. “what are ya talking about?”

“i’ve been thinking about that movie we watched….the zombie one. and just wondered what it would be like.”

“gave up on surviving already, did ya?” he chuckles, collapsing onto his bed beside you, his hand resting on your waist.

“no, but i wanna know! what would you do if i turned into a zombie?”

“well….what are the options?” his smirk earns him a playful smack on the chest. “hey! i’m serious. i’ll be so sad that i won’t be able to think straight, so ya need to give me some options.”

“fine,” you pout, scratching your brain for solutions. “i suppose the most humane thing to do would be to kill me. you know, to make sure i’m not forced to live as a mindless zombie eating other humans.”

“okay….”

“or you could tie me up, maybe chain me, and keep me alive by feeding me living people.”

“why would i keep ya around if you’re gonna stink like a rotting corpse?”

while mammon laughs, your brows furrow with annoyance, mostly feigned but there’s a small sense of hurt in there when you think about mammon not wanting to keep you after you turn into a zombie, despite it being completely logical and reasonable.

“hey,” his voice is soft as he leans over and kisses your cheek, “don’t worry. i’d handcuff us together and let you bite me. then we can be zombies together and never be separated.”

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

movie night always means one thing, and that’s you and levi curling up with tangled limbs and a hoard of cushions and blankets. a joint blanket burrito with little space between you but that’s a good thing.

the closeness makes it cosier.

tonight, you opted for a more emotional movie. a romance, but romances are always emotional for both of you. that’s why you try your best to stay away from the romantic movies and stick to action packed fantasies or sci-fi’s that are the furthest thing from romance.

but there was a new and popular movie making the headlines and levi couldn’t wait to watch it. you knew watching it was a lost hope, and now you’re sobbing in levi’s arms watching the struggles the love interests are going through to get to each other.

“i’m so glad it wasn’t that difficult for us to be together,” you sniffle, feeling a wave of gratitude take over. “i love you, levi.”

“i love you, too,” his voice trembles and he quietly wipes his own tears.

“hey, levi?”

“what is it?”

“can i wipe my nose on you?”

“what? no!”

too late. you buried your head into his chest, wiping your face clean and covering his favourite shirt in snot.

“gross!”

“i’m sorry. i wanted to get a tissue but they’re too far away. i didn’t want to leave the burrito.”

“it’s fine,” he grumbles, begrudgingly patting you on the head to tell you it’s okay despite ruining his shirt. “let’s finish the movie.”

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍

“would you still love me if i told you the truth?”

satan tries to hide his piqued interest, like he usually does. he likes to come off as the too–cool–to–show–i–care kind of guy but the truth is, he is more invested in this truth than anything else.

he nonchalantly turns the page of his book and with a swipe of his tongue over his lips, he asks, “what truth?”

“that i’m really a lizard.”

well, he wasn’t expecting that.

he watches you intently over the pages of his book. you stop pacing around the library and make your way to him, showing no expression on your face. usually, he would be quite good at reading your face but in all honesty, he can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

“a lizard?”

you nod. “a lizard.”

“you don’t look like a lizard.”

“that’s because i’m a lizard pretending to be a human.”

“a what now?” he shuts his book, sitting upright from his laid position. he tried his hardest not to give in to your silly but mysterious notion but he is far more interested in your explanation.

“you know about the lizard people, right?”

“i do not.”

“so i just exposed myself for nothing?”

“what in the devildom are you talking about?”

“it doesn’t matter. forget i said anything. if anyone finds out i told you, i could get killed.”

“please tell me that isn’t true.”

silence.

you refuse to even look him in the eye. surely, you are joking. there’s no way you’re really a lizard, let alone it be possible for lizards to be secretly living inside of humans. what kind of conspiracy would that be?

it’s unimaginable, even for demons. but whether the lizard thing is true or he’s falling for a joke, you still need an answer to your question.

“yes,” he pulls you into his side. “i would still love you if you were really a lizard.”

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒

“asmo,” you sing the demon of lust’s name, catching the attention that he would devote to you at any given moment. “can i ask you something?”

“go ahead, my dearest. fire away.”

he winks, hoping it would be something on the more flirtatious side, but instead you fill his mind with a grotesque image.

“what would you do if you could never touch me again?”

he immediately smothers you with a hug. “what are you talking about?! of course, that would never happen!”

“but what if?” you snuggle into him further. “what if you could never touch me?”

he hums, thinking of any solution to be able to touch you again.

“i’d cry,” he says simply. “i’d cry a lot.”

“aww,” you pout. “i don’t want you to cry.”

“and i don’t want to imagine a world where i can’t hold you like this,” he kisses your lips, “where i can’t kiss you like this,” he lifts up your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, “where i can’t hold your hand like this.”

“asmo….”

“i don’t know what would ever cause me to never be able to touch you again, but it would be the end of my world if it came true. i don’t know if i’d be able to live.”

“you’d still be able to see me and speak to me.”

“but not being able to touch you when i see you and hear you is the most painful torture imaginable. but you know what that means, right?”

“what does it mean?” you squeal and his hands tickle your sides.

“it means i need to do all the touching i can now to make up for it!”

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁

“hey, beel?”

“yeah?”

your quiet voices fill the dark path home from rad. beel always walks you home; be it in comfortable silence or deep conversations, you don’t imagine walking home any other way.

and the quiet air of the evening provides the perfect chance to ask him a question you’ve been waiting to ask all day.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“if i had five million cheeseburgers and you could only eat them if you slapped me in the face, what wou—”

“i’d slap you in the face.”

“i didn’t even finish my question.” you yelp, brows furrowing in frustration.

“you don’t need to finish it. i’d do anything to eat that many cheeseburgers.”

your feet plant in the ground and beel doesn’t stop walking until your hand which holds his pulls him back.

“are you serious?”

“uhmm….i think so?”

you’re grateful for the fact that he’s rethinking his answer but it was a shock to hear him say he’d slap you so firmly in the beginning. it was a stupid question to ask in the first place, but you never imagined beel ever wanting to hurt you.

he tugs on your hand and you continue walking with him, picking up the pace to get home.

“mc….” he asks. “did i say something wrong?”

his obliviousness to his own words is a harder slap in the face than the slap he promised those five million burgers.

“you said you’d slap me, beel, and it makes me sad.”

“hm….we can go halfsies on the burgers?”

“huh?”

“i’ll slap you and then we can share the burgers.” he promises. “you’d feel bad because i slapped you. and i’d feel bad because i slapped you. so to make it better for both of us, we can split the cheeseburgers.”

you look at him, astounded because you don’t know if his explanation makes his answer better or worse.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑

a cuddling session in the attic with belphegor is exactly what you needed after a long, draining day. you naturally made your way up to him as soon as you had some free time, desperate for his warmth.

but belphie had a different warmth in mind with all the kisses he litters up and down your neck.

“belphie, i’m tired.” you whine, but still urge him on to kiss you harder.

“then close your eyes. i’ll kiss you until you fall asleep.”

your heart swarms with the thrill of his words, the promise of being here and showering you with affection even on your worst days.

“is something wrong?” he asks.

“no. why?”

“you’re not falling asleep.”

“that’s because you’re kisses are keeping me awake.”

“they’re meant to help you fall asleep.”

“i hate to break it to you belphie, but they’re having the opposite effect.” you tease.

“is that so?” he nibbles you ear. “what about this?”

you arch into his body, sensitive from his kisses and now the more urgent movements of his lips ignite a fire in your belly. his lips graze you, teeth nip you and tongue swipe over your skin. he sucks hard enough to leave bruises, and kisses softly on every mark he leaves.

“belphie….” the soft whisper of his name catches his attention. “how many ghosts do you think are watching us right now?”

he ceases for a moment, then lifts his head from the crook of your neck. “what?”

“what if there’s ghosts watching us right now? and what if they keep watching us while we….you know….?”

“i never thought of that before.”

“it’s weird, right?”

“definitely. let’s never have sex again.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Green| Part 01

A good idea not thought through.

Tags/Warnings: Rabbit hybrid!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, Single Dad!AU, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, angst, suggestive, mentioned smut but sfw

Length: 3.7k Words

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

When Jimin had set this whole date up, Jungkook had expected.. Nothing, really.  

As far as he knows, he’s supposed to meet you at the restaurant right here, and you supposedly know exactly which table he sits at- but what he did not expect, was for you to be so.. Pretty.  

You’re clearly a fox hybrid, distinctive hybrid features standing out, very much well taken care of. The second you sit down, he notices even the shape of your pupils being the same as a common fox’s, though they don’t make him feel intimidated at all. Not as they should, at least.  

Jungkook remembers the teasing jokes back in school, or the struggle to earn his spot even later in life as a prey hybrid. Many people still believe that he’s not a good fit for a leading position in his company as a rabbit, unable to apparently make important decisions with a realistic view on things or not mentally strong enough to withstand the stress of responsibility. But he’s not just a meek little bunny.  

And from the looks of it, you’re not a dangerous predator either.  

“Well, Jimin wasn’t lying when he told me you were.. Cute.” You say, and Jungkook takes in a deep breath- and you take it as a bad sign, instantly going back on your words. “Not as in, not-to-be-taken-seriously-cute, but like- uh.. Your ears just look.. Pretty?” You tell him, and at that, his eyes move to look at you from the rim of his wineglass, one of his mentioned black rabbit ears slowly standing up.  

Silver piercings are decorating it. It’s an uncommon sight- but you decide it fits him.  

“...thanks.” He nods, before he licks his lips, and averts his eyes. “I apologize, It’s been.. A while since I’ve been on a date.” He shamefully admits, but you wave him off.  

“It’s not a problem.” You deny. “I don’t go on dates often either.” 

“How come?” He wonders, seeing an opportunity to spark some smalltalk, so he can find out a little more about you.  

“Just.. Not the time. And no partner to go on one with.” You giggle, thanking the waitress for your glass of wine. “I’m usually pretty busy with work.”  

“Work?” He asks, and you nod, your pretty fox ears suddenly standing tall with pride, tail swinging behind you. It’s pretty cute, in his humble opinion.  

“I’m an author!” You beam happily. “I write children’s books, and fantasy novels.” You explain, and Jungkook’s thoughts instantly go back to his daughter, currently in the care of Jimin at his house. Did you write a book she’s seen before?  

“Children’s books?” He wonders, feeling a bit stupid for just asking you, and never giving you anything in return.  

“Yep.” You chirp. “Mostly.. Very simple one’s. Ages 4 to 7.” You explain. “And you? What do you do for a living if I may ask?” You wonder, resting your chin on your hands.  

“I’m.. The vice president of HLC at the moment. Hopefully I might get a promotion at some point.” He chuckles, and your eyes widen.  

“Wow.. That's. Okay, that’s huge.” You laugh a bit uneasy now.  

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He wonders, a bit confused. Both of his ears are up now, his body becoming more and more comfortable with your presence.  

“A little?” You admit. You’re honest, it seems like. He already decides it’s a very positive point. “I feel a little.. Out of your league, so to say.” You say a bit jokingly, taking a sip from your wine. He shakes his head.  

“Don't worry about it.” He denies, reassuring you. “We both have our places in life.”  

“So it seems.” You nod, while you wait for your dinner to be served.  

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

A place Jungkook had not seen you in his life, was beneath him, in his bed.  

But that’s exactly where you’ve ended up, most of your clothes already having been stripped from your bodies, lying somewhere in the bedroom. He honestly blamed his attraction to you on his hormones at first, and the fact that he’d neglected his natural need for physical intimacy for so long due to his single-father situation, but in this moment, he knows that it’s more than just that.  

And that just screams trouble.  

But right now, Jungkook can’t make himself think of anything other than you beneath his hands, skin warm as you push your bare behind right into him. He’d technically wanted to drive you home, a simple act of chivalry since your date had honestly been very nice, but somehow, you ended up agreeing to at least let the night come to an end in a more relaxed atmosphere at his apartment, since you told him that you’ve always dreamed to live in a apartment high up with a view of the city skyline.  

He really just wanted to show you the view. He really doesn’t know when you both started to make out.  

But he knows that it’s something you both clearly want- your hands holding onto his bedsheets almost impatiently, while he’s busy wrapping the condom over his length. If the situation was just a little different, Jungkook could see you both getting along a lot longer than for just this- but he’s got responsibilities, and he can’t just bring someone into his life without thinking about it long enough.  

And also, with his daughter still at such a vulnerable age, there’s just no way she’d accept you. 

Initially, he’d keep it at this. You’re in perfect breeding position, face in the pillows, behind pushed into him- but he has to see you. It’s not some magical connection type of thing, just simple attraction, and maybe, just maybe, his inner need to at least pretend for a moment that he’s just a young guy being together with his girlfriend- even though that’s never going to be the truth.  

Just for a moment, he wants to pretend.  

Just for one night.  

On your end, this is just an adventure you’ve never been on before. Jimin had told you to come out of your shell a little, be a bit wild for once, and meet his best friend who’s got a ‘just as dry’ intimate life as you did. And you can’t deny that this friend- Jungkook- is anything but charming, and attractive. Despite being a prey hybrid, he’s oozing a certain sense of confidence that’s not overbearing, but simply comfortable to be around.  

But all good things must come to an end- and to spare the poor young man the awkwardness, you get up in the middle of the night- early morning, barely three AM.  

Putting on your clothes, and somewhat fixing your hair, you carefully make sure to write a small note to leave on his kitchen table. Your face is already bare, since you both did shower yesterday before going to bed- so you don’t have to worry about that.  

Maybe he’d like to meet you again? Well, you surely left your number on the note for him to reach out to, if he so decides to do so.  

However, just as you try and walk out, you notice something.. Odd.  

A small, childrens-size pale green wintercoat, hanging on the wall next to the entrance. Tiny shoes, green, frog-themed rain boots, and an equally themed little umbrella hanging on the wall as well, next to what you assume must be Jungkook’s clothes. These things clearly belong to a child- and now that you pay more attention to it, you do smell the uniquely scent profile of a kid in the apartment.  

And the scents are too alike to deny that it must be his.  

Panic starts to bubble up inside you. If he has a child, there must be a mother to it as well, right? Maybe not, but the chance is too high for you to really take any chances. Jimin didn’t mention that at all- if he’d told you that this rabbit wanted to cheat and not just ‘go on a date’, you would’ve never agreed to it!  

Did you just become a homewrecker?  

You’re taking a step to take your note with you again, but you instead hear Jungkook move around in his bedroom, sleepily calling out your name- and that makes your instincts go haywire, as you instead basically rip the door open after somewhat slipping into your heels, and fetching your small handbag from the floor near the way too cute rainboots staring at you oh-so innocently.  

The door snaps shut behind you, and you don’t look back as you rush down and into the elevator, leaving the fancy apartment building and this whole mistake behind. 

Already fuming as you call Jimin, uncaring about the time. 

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

“I’m so sorry!” Jimin apologizes to Jungkook, who just sighs as he washes Minji’s plastic dishes in the sink, while the little girl is occupied on the couch, watching her favorite show before bed. “I didn’t think you both would end up here though-” 

“It doesn’t matter anyways.” The young father denies, putting every piece of cutlery on the side to dry later. “It’s not like it would’ve worked out anyways. I just wish she knew that this was just a huge misunderstanding.” He clarifies, turning off the faucet before he grabs a towel to dry the dishes.  

“I tried explaining it to her, really.” Jimin whines, feeling incredibly guilty for screwing this up so badly for his friend. “But she doesn’t believe me at all.” He sighs, sitting down.  

“Like I said, it’s not like it would’ve worked out.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Minji already got nervous when Taehyung dropped her off this morning already just because her scent lingered.” 

“But.. Isn't there, like, any way of getting her used to it?” Jimin wonders. “Like, I swear I’ve seen predator-prey couples with a prey child, and they looked fine to me.”  

“Rare.” Jungkook just shrugs, putting the plastic cutlery and dishes away in their respective places. “It’s really fine. I just hope she doesn’t feel guilty about things, or believes that she was just some sort of.. Body for me to use.” He says, ears low against his head, simply flopping down. It’s obvious that Jungkook is upset about it all. Because from what Jimin had told him, you’d felt horrible, believing that you were some part in him cheating on the mother of his child- unaware that she’s not even in the picture, and hasn’t been for years.  

“I’m gonna try and convince her one way or another.” Jimin sighs. “Really, this is so fucked up. The main reason I tried setting you both up WAS Minji!” He whines to himself, thanking Jungkook for the glass of water he offers him, before the young father sits down across from him at the kitchen table. 

“What do you mean?” He wonders.  

“She loves kids!” The human reveals. “She really does, but she herself can’t have any. Which I think might be why she feels so strongly in this situation.” He explains, making Jungkook sigh.  

Well, that just makes him feel so much worse.  

“There’s got to be a way to make this right somehow.” Jimin complains to himself, while looking over at Minji, who’s busy watching the TV with her favourite plush toy in her lap keeping her company. “I’m really sorry. I thought.. I don’t know. I forgot that because you’re two different hybrids, you might not get along too well..” He says, but Jungkook shakes his head.  

“I.. We got along very well, actually. I really liked her. Or rather, still like her.” He chuckles a bit bitterly to himself. “But I guess finding a partner is out of the question for me, at least until Minnie is a bit older.”  

“A bit older? Jungkook, you said she probably will stay scared of predator hybrids until she’s what? Twelve?” His human friend reminds him.  

“...generally, yeah.” He shrugs.  

“Jungkook, no. That can’t.. I refuse to accept that.” He shakes his head. “I’ll explain it all to her, I promise, and you’ll try and make this work with Minji when the time comes. Please.” Jimin says. “I don’t want to see you so lonely all the time.” 

“I’m not lonely- I have Minji.” Jungkook refuses.  

“You know what I mean.” Jimin presses.  

“...alright.” Jungkook sighs. “If- IF- you somehow work it out with her, and she wants to.. Talk, give her my number. And not the office phone, please.” He runs a hand over his face, before he gets up with his friend to bring him to the door. “But don’t pressure her. If she doesn’t want to see me again, that’s fine too.”  

“I won’t.” Jimin promises. “Promise.” 

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

You’re sitting in front of Jungkook again, in a public cafe, a hot cup of milky coffee in front of you, while he seems equally as nervous with his own iced americano in his hands, fingers tracing the pearling condensation a little.  

“So.” You start, looking at him, nervously licking your lips.  

“So.” He nods. “I have a child.”  

“So I’ve noticed.” You answer him, legs swinging a bit back and forth, due to the chair being a bit too high for you. 

“Her mother.. Left, pretty much a few weeks after she was born.” He explains in a neutral tone, staring down at his beverage. “No one really has an answer why. But she just.. It was as if she was disgusted with her own child, pretty much right after birth.” Jungkook recites the events. “Didn’t want to hold her, got angry when she cried, refused to take care of her. We thought it might just.. Be postpartum depression?” He leans his head to the side a little. “It happens more than one might think, after all. But it never got any better.” He shakes his head. “So.. We decided to split up, and I took care of Minji by myself.” 

“Did she ever.. Maybe reach out?” You wonder, but Jungkook shakes his head.  

“She re-married again. Lives in Italy now, with her new husband and stepchildren.” He chuckles a bit. “I’m happy she’s happy, you know? Just wish it went a little different.” He honestly reveals.  

“How old is Minji?” You wonder, dreading the answer. Because from both the scent and the size of the clothes and shoes in his home, she must be young. 

“She’s three and a half.” He reveals, and both of you become quiet.  

Oh. 

Well, it was nice while it lasted. With his daughter this young, there’s just no way you could ever move forward with your friendship even- considering you’re still a predator hybrid at the end of the day, something that surely will scare the poor little bunny half to death. Why do you always have to get crushes on the worst possible people? 

“Well, I’m sure.. She’s very lucky to have you as a dad.” You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. “And you’ll soon find a proper partner as well. You’re very likable after all.” You praise, praying that he can’t see the way your eyes begin to water.  

“I’m sorry.” He answers, and his voice sounds just as dissappointed as he feels. “I.. Wish we would’ve met under different circumstances.” 

“Then you wouldn’t have Minji.” You deny, spotting two drops of your tears having fallen onto the table. “Sorry, I’m a crybaby...” You say, fetching a tissue from your handbag.  

“We could still try-” He starts, but you shake your head.  

“No, she’s gonna be terrified of me, I don’t wanna scare her.” You refuse, drying your cheeks with a good amount of embarrassment, large fox ears pinned back in shame of it all.  

“Minji is a lot braver than one might think.” Jungkook chuckles, reaching out to help you wipe off your slightly smudged mascara from beneath your eyes. “She just.. She might just be a bit shy. Or very shy, most likely.” He adds, and you giggle a bit.  

“Jungkook.. I’m sorry I’m me.” You say, but he shakes his head, smiling at you.  

“Don’t ever apologize for something like that.”  

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

You decide to meet up again at Jimin’s birthday party- the human having invited you both, and Minji as well for the dinner he’d organized at his favourite restaurant in town. You’ll have the whole venue for yourselves to make it both easier for the staff, and everyone attending.  

Jungkook is nervous in his seat, Minji next to him in her seat, happily coloring in her little book that he brought with him to keep her occupied, different shades of green crayons all over her spot at the table.  

It’s then that the door to the restaurant opens, and you step in, together with Min Yoongi- a coworker and fellow predator hybrid whom you’ve befriended a few years ago, or so Jimin said. The big cat hybrid is apparently a tiger- though his ears and tail aren’t even slightly orange, instead monochrome white and black, his light eyes proving the fact that he’s not a standard.  

But, Jungkook can’t look at him for too long, because he’s too busy blatantly staring at you instead, with your pretty face, dressed up for the occasion. So much so, that Minji has to pull on his sleeve to get his attention back, looking at him before she tilts her head, small bunny ears in between her hair moving on a constant, since so much is going on.  

This will be it. If she gets too scared, he’ll have to go home early- and basically bury his hope of ever building something with you.  

But even though she does seem nervous, she’s not yet scared- instead clinging to her father by instinct, who’s calm, mostly that is. “Come, let’s say hi to everyone, yeah?” He offers her, and she reluctantly gets up with him, clinging to his hand while they both walk towards Yoongi and you, who’s just hanging up your coat.  

“Long time no see.” Jungkook offers Yoongi, who nods and shakes his hand politely, before he leans down to make himself as small as he can, in hopes of maybe getting at least something out of the little girl- but she instead steps behind Jungkook, the predator hybrid too intimidating. “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh don’t be. She grew quite a lot in a year.” Yoongi dismisses, while you reluctantly walk closer, politely moving to shake Jungkook’s hand as well- but the rabbit hybrid instead moves to give you a hug, despite his daughter being so close. And much to your surprise, this action alone seems to spark Minji’s interest- her head poking around Jungkook’s legs, just to look at you curiously, especially your fluffy tail that’s nervously swaying from side to side behind you.  

“Say hello, Minji.” Jungkook urges her, but as if snapped out from her trance, she shakes her head, instead running back to her seat at the table where she picks up her crayons once more.  

“She’s cute.” You say, earning Jungkook’s attention back. “Looks.. A lot like you.” You mention, and he nods.  

“I know. A lot of people tell me she’s like.. A mini-version of me.” He chuckles, walking towards his own spot next to his daughter. “Do you.. Want to sit next to me?” He wonders, and you nod, accepting happily. Sitting next to him will get Minji used to your scent, while also putting a safety barrier between her and him, so she can figure you out from afar.  

Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.  

Something you’re very much surprised about, is that throughout the entire evening, the little hybrid girl does not seem to complain whatsoever. Not once does she get fidgety, or whiny about sitting in one spot for too long- and once she does, Jungkook is quick and skilled in handling her well, calming her down or occupying her attention for a moment.  

Though, at some point, she does get up and roam around a little, under the watchful eye of her father of course.  

You’re currently talking to Jungkook about your work, when you notice something on your tail, one slight look from you revealing that it’s the little girl, carefully running her small hands over the fur, interest too great to really let her inner fear control her. You know she’s on high alert- ears standing tall and completely turned towards you, motions freezing entirely when she notices that you’ve noticed her.  

Jungkook smiles at his daughter. “It’s pretty, hm?” He asks her, and nods, before she reaches out to have him pick her up and sit her on his lap, where she stares at you, now a lot more bold in the arms of her father. She’s visibly taking your entire appearance in, before she looks at Jungkook again, attempting to pull one of his jet-black rabbit ears, making him laugh and gently prevent her from doing so. “What do you want with dad’s ears, huh?” He jokingly scolds. “You’ve got your own, right there!” He reminds her, gently pulling her own equally dark ears, which makes her laugh.  

You can’t help but smile fondly at the interaction.  

That is until suddenly, the little girl boldly reaches out for your ears now- something that makes you both surprised and excited- your head leaning closer so she can clumsily grab at your ears, laughing most likely at how soft they are. It clearly makes Jungkook hopeful, his own tail wiggling around without his own knowledge as he watches the short but warm interaction with you two.  

It’s obvious that while Jungkook is around, she feels comfortable and safe enough to interact with you- but as soon as his attention is somewhere else, she becomes more withdrawn and suspicious again, which is natural. But the fact that she’s not panicking at least, is already a great sign.  

Maybe there’s a chance.  

Maybe this could really work.  

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

[aliidarling]

excuse my bad grammar and typos, this is my first time posting official smut! i’ve had accounts there and there but this time i’m fr

i didn’t proofread either cuz i’m lazy so bare w me

sorry if danny is ooc he’s weird to write

he hit me and it felt like a kiss ♡

DANNY JOHNSON x fem!reader

nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable

summary: danny chases u down towards the end of the trial and corners you in lampkin house, decides to have a little fun w u :3

tags: nsfw obvi, p in v, forced entry kinda, blood as lube is suggested, rough fingering at end, degrading, humiliation, mean danny, dubcon, referenced somnophillia but doesn’t happen, danny’s thoughts are triggering, danny himself is a warning

dark content below!!

Your breath was heavy as your feet ran as quickly as possible, the thoughts of all other things leaving your mind very quickly. All you could think was the fact a pyschopath was currently right behind you, knife in air, and coming right at your sorry ass.

“Shit, shit,” You sigh shakily under your breath. Your heart was pounding so fast it felt like it could just jump out of your chest. If it did you hoped it’d punch Ghostie in his stupid face, maybe give him a few bruises to remember you by.

“Stop fuckin’ running! You’re only delayin’ the inevitable, sweetheart!” He yells from behind you, his voice deep. You never took time to admire his voice but for some odd reason, while you were probably five seconds away from death, you couldn’t help but acknowledge how smooth it was.

After his harsh words left his mouth, he was immediately slammed with a pallet, chasing him to let out a loud groan and stumble back.

“Fuckin’ bitch— you’re gonna get gutted for that.” He growls, lifting his palm to rub the soreness on his face before he remembered about the stupid mask he wore. He rolled his eyes at this and quickly got back onto his feet.

After another few minutes, he managed to corner you into the little house on Lampkin Lane, the red and blue lights illuminating onto his shrieking expression.

You felt your heart drop slowly as you realized you had nowhere to go. How could you be so stupid, running into the only room in the god damn house without a window to vault into.

“Can’t we talk about this?” You smile sheepishly, backing up into you pressed against the wall, his tall and looming figure intimidating you shitless.

You could feel the sassy roll of his eyes before he roughly grabs you by your shoulders, throwing you down onto the old worn down mattress. A yelp leaves your throat, your body squirming on the mattress, having landed on your belly.

You open your mouth to protest, “Hey!—“ Only to feel the air knocked out of you as he plops down on your lower back, straddling you. His hips were pressing down into your butt, his knees at each side of your waist.

An attempt to lift your head up was quickly denied as you felt his hand grab the back of your head, his fingers tangling within your hair, and shoving it back down into the scratched cushion.

“No squirmin, or else you’ll get a knife shoved in that pretty lil’ head of yours, got it?” His voice was low as he hissed the words out, his legs tightening their hold on you.

You whimper at the pressure on your lower body. You decide to ignore his words— you were gonna die anyways, so why not go out screaming and kicking?

“Fuck you.” You say with a tone full of hatred, fists clenching in anger as you attempt to knock him off you by shoving your butt into him roughly.

This only causes him to get worse, a sharp inhale coming from him as he feels your butt connect with his groin.

He groans back and presses you further down, his hand starting to raise his knife up.

“I’ve had enough of your stupid whining and fighting, stupid little bitch, how about you shut up and take this god damn knife in your throat?” He snaps, his other hand roughly grabbing you by the back of your neck and squeezing it as he presses it down.

Right as he’s about to slam his blade into the back of your skull, already daydreaming about how good his clothes would look covered in your blood and tears, he feels your tiny body under him shift once again and press tight against his cock.

His breath hitches intensely, and it only gets worse from there as he hears a soft noise leave your lips. He reluctantly lowers his knife, just a little, and pulls his head down to see yours.

You had your face resting face down, your cheek pressed against the mattress with your eyes squeezed shut. You had already prepared yourself for the feeling of his knife deep in your skull. It’s not like worse hasn’t happened, Wesker and some of the other weird ass killers had too much fun with their mori’s.

The squeeze of his fingers around your delicate neck caused you to let out a forced moan, his brows furrowing. You could practically feel the air tense as his heavy breathing from behind you sent shivers down your body and right into your core, feeling so embarrassed to have this murderers body so close to yours.

“Just kill me already, you stupid little— Just get this over with!” You whispered with a high pitched tone, squirming once again and bracing yourself for the slash.

He only rolled his eyes at you in response.

Your attention was drawn away from your fear of dying as you heard the loud sound of steel clattering against the floor.

You looked up in surprise, your lips parting and not having a chance to say anything before you felt his smash right against you, a loud gasp leaving you as he pressed you even further down.

After a second into the kiss, you wondered, how the hell he could kiss you with his mask on? You peeked an eye open and saw he had his mask pulled up halfway.

He had one hand grabbing you by the back of your neck, holding you down into the bed, his other squeezing your pink cheeks. The kiss only got more rough as you attempted to part.

All your attempts at parting miserable failed, considering you were quite literally pinned down with no where to go.

“H-Hey— hey, ghostf—“ You choked out between kisses, your hands which you were surprised weren’t pinned down yet, go to shakily reach towards him to push him away.

“Shut the hell up.” He grits his teeth, resisting the urge to beat the shit out of you and then fuck your unconscious body afterwards. Maybe you wouldn’t struggle so much then, ungrateful bitch.

A whine left you before you felt yourself get shoved down again, your head knocking against the mattress roughly. You squirm more, gasping and shaking your head in the kiss you tried your best not to give into.

“Get off me! Get off me— you god damn psycho!” You screeched.

His hand quickly shot up and slapped your face, causing you to curl away and hide your red face into the bed under him. Almost made him feel bad before he remembered the ruckus you caused him during today’s match. Can’t even remember how many god damn pallets you shoved into my face.

“You gonna cry?” He mocks, a grin tugging at his lips as he presses his hips down into your butt, one his knees shoving its way between your thighs and forcefully parting it.

“No I’m not..” You say quietly and so embarrassed.

“Yeah, I think you are.”

He then pulled away rather harshly from your face, one of his hands pressing into the space between your shoulder blades, not letting you look up or get up.

His other hand yanked his mask back down, but then got to quick work with grabbing the hem of your pants and shoving it down.

“What’s wrong? Embarrassed? Shouldn’t be, baby, you’re so pretty.” His voice was so mocking and condescending by itself that it was probably enough to make you cry.

“S-Shut up,” You whispered, limp under him, not even struggling anymore. You knew there was nowhere to go. And you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your tummy as he called you pretty.

“..You think I’m pretty?”

He snickers at your small voice, his hand leaving your back and joining his other in pulling your pants down. Once you’re naked from waist down, he gets to work and grab your hips, pulling them up into a position where they are hovering in the air with your knees supporting them.

“Mhm, baby. Prettiest victim I’ve ever had.” His large hand glides over your round butt, giving you firm taps and playful rubs.

You couldn’t help but let a small moan as his hand glided right over your pussy, pinching your clit rather harshly, making you yelp.

Stupid girl didn’t think I’d be nice with her, did she?

I’m going to ruin her.

I’ll start off with that tight pussy of hers.

“Ever had someone in here, hmm?” He hums, his thick finger teasing your small hole and threatening to slip in. Your breath hitches in fear.

His bloody, dirty gloves fingers inside you sounded so dirty, but a part of you craved for it. The way he stimulated your body fed to your cravings.

“I-I mean, yeah, a long time ago, but now I’ve been here for a bit and none of the survivors are really.. worth it.” You admitted hesitantly, feeling embarrassed to be telling Ghostface the last time you had sex was.

“Poor thing.” He mocked lowly, both his hands going to rest next to your folds. He spreads your pussy lips apart and snickers at the sight of your small inner walls and slickness.

“I’ll treat you so nice, baby, you won’t even have the heart to beg me to stop.”

His words sounded so genuine, but how could you believe him? He was the last person to trust, especially in a situation like this. You were surprised he hadn’t forced himself in your ass already, it felt like something his deranged ass would be into.

The sound of his robe wrinkling and moving around caught your attention. You peeked behind you to get a look before you felt his hand collide with your face again, sending you immediately back down into the mattress, hiding and squeezing your eyes shut as you decide to be good for once and just follow his orders.

You didn’t wanna walk out of here with a knife in your ass.

It wasn’t another minute until you felt something large and round press against your pussy opening. Your eyes widened as his hands forcefully spread your thighs, your back arching as his other hand pressing down into it.

“W-Wait— don’t go right into it!” You gasped, trying to pull away.

He completely ignores you and instead grabs your head with one hand, the other holding your hips firmly as he fully slams himself inside you, full on WWE style.

“Take it, sweetheart, it ain’t that hard, c’mon.” He sniggers, his tone heavy in mirth and amusement, his hold in you tightening.

He was so big, completely stretching out your gummy walls and pressing against your cervix with his painfully big cock.

It had to be a good 8 inches, maybe even hitting 9– nothing about him was average, so it didn’t surprise you his dick was painfully big.

“Ghost,” You cry out, your back arching further as his cock immediately pulls back, making you flinch at the friction.

You were wet, yeah, but not enough to withstand his cock. You would have needed a good stretching and a lot of fingering if you wanted to take him without any pain.

And the fucker just slammed himself inside you, no prep at all. Tears were teasing the corners of your eyes, nose scrunched up at the sting.

He rolls his eyes at your noises, “Stop fuckin’ whining, I’m not against killing ya still, y’know?” He huffs with a sassy tone. Both his hand settle around the curve of your hips and waist and start treating you like a complete fleshlight, slamming himself into you over and over again.

Your body shakes at the intensity of the pounding, your hands limp infront of you and weakly scratching at the mattress. Your skin felt so icky, your thighs covered in something but you didn’t know what.

“Good girl, good girl, takin’ my cock like you were fuckin’ born for it.” He giggled into your ear. He bends over slightly to press his back against your chest, pressing your body flat against the bed.

“Please slow down—“ You whine.

He slaps you in response and you weakly apologize.

A few more extra deep thrusts has him groaning from behind you, his eyes threatening to roll back as well at how tight you fit around him, snug like a song.

“Good for nothin’, cheap whore, what a pathetic piece of crap—“ He grumbles lowly, brows furrowing in concentration as his thrusts get more harsh, your body jolting from each slap of his hips.

Wrapping on arm around you and reaching for your tiny clit, he places rough circles onto it and hummed in approval at how your walls started sucking him in more.

“Gonna cum? Huh?”

“Mhm, mmm, please.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles darkly, brutally slamming his cock into you over and over again until he felt your pussy start milking the shit out of him. He let out an *almost* whine, burying himself as deep as he could inside as you as he twitched.

His hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled you flush against his, his dirty robe rubbing all over your body and staining your pretty skin with your friends blood.

“Good girl, yeah, just like that.” He whispered, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt his cock literally explode in you, sending all of his hot cum straight into your womb for you to go and cry about.

Right as he came, he felt your walls tighten further before relaxing and letting out your white cream as well, coating his cock.

With a soft huff, he slowly pulls out, listening to the squelching sounds in amusement. A smirk tugged at his lips as he watched a mixture of yours and his cum drop out of your sloppy hole, with a slight reddish tint on your thighs.

“Oops, made ya’ bleed.” He hums nonchalantly, his hand going and gliding some of the cum onto his fingers before shoving it back into you.

“Augh! Hey—“ You yelped, tensing at the feeling of his thick fingers back into your over-sensitive pussy, thighs spreading uncomfortably.

“Shut up. You ain’t gonna let one drop out, hear me? You’re gonna be a good girl and suck it up.”

“..Okay.”

After another moment of him shoving the cum deeper into you somehow, he parts and leans back, admiring the view of your ruined body with blood stains from his rough handling earlier and now.

“You’ve never looked prettier.” He snickers before he starts to get back up and pulling his robe on.

“..You’ve.. never looked creepier.” You joke dryly, glancing at his dirty robe. He rolls his eyes and kicks you with his foot as you were still on the floor.

“Ow!”

“Shut the hell up and get out of here, the hatch is waiting for your sorry ass.” He grunts, turning away and picking up the knife be dropped to fuck you.

“You’re so sweet.” You say bitterly under your breath, shakily getting up and rubbing the blood away. The sight of your inner walls blood made you cringe, staring down at your thighs. You sigh and quickly pull your pants back up. You felt disgusting.

“C’mon, I don’t got all day.” He narrows his eyes at you, appearing behind you to rudely shove you towards the exit of the room.

“Jeez! Okay, okay!” You whine, quickly walking out in search of the hatch he kindly offered to you. He watched as you left, his dark eyes from under the mask staring down your silhouette as it slowly disappeared into the distance.

[carboysandbikemen]

Fernando being your dad’s best friend or something and someday he can’t help but give in to your teasing even though there’s a bit of an age gap and it feels wrong… but he finally decides to fuck you, calling you his good girl🫣 Very unhinged I’m so sorry x

Never apologise, this is the unhinged content I crave!!! -🐝

Also TY for all of the recent Fernando asks!! Glad to see people are just as unhinged about that insane little man as us. Will be writing more Nando content in due course!

Good Luck Charm

Warnings and tags: 18+ obvs, age gap, daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex, Fernando was made to eat pussy fight me, disclaimer I don't speak Spanish and had to use google 😬

Word count: 3,142

The security guard checks your pass, looking you up and down slightly but pasting on a smile and waving you through. To be fair to him you do have an unprecedented level of access for someone who is rocking up to the paddock alone.

Going along to GP's isn't exactly new to you, after all you've been coming to them ever since you were little, and more recently with your dad to support his friend Fernando.

Weaving through the paddock to find Fernando feels like second nature, only having to ask two of the Alpine crew you vaguely recognise where he is before finding him.

Honestly? You've been shamelessly flirting with him whenever your dad wasn't in earshot for a couple of years now. Partly because well, it's Fernando, he's ridiculously hot, but also because it's become almost a game of how far can you push him before he snaps. This time though, this time you're determined to cross that line. It's all or nothing.

"Hi." You announce yourself, peaking from behind the door where Fernando is sat with one headphone in his ear, the other dangling at his chest.

When he looks up at you, the frown on his face quickly turns into a smile and he pulls the other earphone out, standing to greet you.

You meet him halfway, pushing yourself into his open arms to hug him, pressing your body against his as you go up onto your tip toes just so you can fall back down again, sliding yourself against his toned chest.

When you pull apart he raises his eyebrow at you questioningly, but you brush it off, smiling with faux innocence.

He looks over your shoulder, as if checking that it's just you before asking, "Your father?"

"Oh he couldn't make it, I thought he told you it was just me this weekend?"

You're pretty sure you told your dad to tell him that you and a few of your friends were planning to go. All part of the plan to tease Fernando a bit more without anyone to interrupt you.

"Ahhh yes, I remember, you are meant to be bringing friends no?"

"Oops, I forgot to ask them." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him cheekily.

He gives you a knowing look and you raise your eyebrows as a challenge. Instead of chastising you, or falling for the bait he shakes his head.

"No matter. I'm sure you will make friends." He smiles at you like he's in on the game and he's here to play. "I could introduce you to Esteban again."

You can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the thought and Fernando laughs at you, deep and open and you want to grab his stupid face and run your hands through his hair but you pull yourself back to the present.

"Are you ready for quali?" You walk around his room, feeling his eyes on you without looking at him, touching his desk, running your fingers over it before picking up his Kimoa cap.

"Always."

He's waiting for you to make the first move, he's almost daring you to, stood there with his arms crossed.

"Hmm. Maybe you need a good luck charm?"

You put the cap on your head.

"And what do you have in mind hmm?"

"I can think of a few things." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him, trying to get across an innocent suggestiveness that you think might just be working, as he steps closer to you.

"Why did you come here alone?"

"I think you know why." You lean in closer to him.

He doesn't move.

"Cariño, you are making this difficult." He's almost gritting his teeth.

"It doesn't have to be."

"Dios me ayude," Fernando sighs under his breath, and you don't know what he's saying but you can guess you're about to finally FINALLY get what you want. "You know we can't."

He doesn't sound sure though. He doesn't sound sure at all, so you close the space between you.

"Fernando." You breathe out. He slips his hand up to your face and you think he's going to touch you but he just grabs his cap back, flinging it across to the desk again.

You huff out a frustrated noise and he smirks down at you.

"Yes?"

"Please." You're so close you can smell his aftershave and you decide that it doesn't matter anymore, this game, all you need is for him to fuck you. Desperately.

"Please what, little one?"

He slips his hand under your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to look into his eyes. With his thumb, he traces your bottom lip.

"Tell me what you want." He prompts again.

"Please fuck me." You whisper, and he smirks down at you, slipping his thumb inside your warm wet mouth.

Obliging, you wrap your lips around it, rolling your tongue over the pad. He lets you do this a few times, before drawing his thumb back, pulling at your lower lip. He looks at you for a second, before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours.

You practically sigh into the kiss, feeling him move one of his hands up to the back of your head and the other down to grip at your waist, pulling you into him.

Gently, he bites at your lip, slipping his tongue over the cusp of your lip before drawing back. You try to follow him but he moves his other hand down to grip the other side of your waist.

"We should stop this."

"No!" You practically shout, pressing yourself against him, watching as his face lights up with a grin and his grip tighten. You should have known that as soon as you got him to give in, then the game would be flipped. He has you right where he wants you. Although, it very much still feels like you're winning.

"This worked up already? Cariño, look at you, just a kiss and my hands on you and you're already desperate. Maybe you cannot take it." He sighs dramatically, thumbing his hand under your shirt and running his fingers along the bare skin of your hips.

"No I can, I can take it." You assure him. Then, to prove your point, you quickly throw off your top and bra, leaving you standing topless in front of him, his hands still toying with the skin above the waistband of your trousers.

He huffs out a small laugh at your antics, which you only find mildly insulting, and runs his hands over your stomach and up your chest, thumbing your nipples briefly making you squirm.

"What did I say hmm? Desperate." He brushes them again and you let out a small gasp. "Look at you."

"Please. Just... fuck me." You say again.

"Patience." He pinches one of your nipples and you have to squeeze your thighs together. "Go lock the door. Take your trousers off, and come sit." He gestures to the sofa and you feel the heat rising on your face as you comply, quickly locking the door and shuffling out of your trousers.

As you go to take off your underwear he stops you.

"Leave them on."

He guides you until you're sitting down on the sofa, legs spread as he kneels in front of you. Slowly, he runs his hands up you thighs, the touch light and teasing until he reaches the seam of your underwear.

"Did you tease me on purpose?"

"What?" You're struggling to think about anything except his hands on you, so so close to where you want.

"Every time you visited, or I came over and you bent over in front of me or touched my arm or said suggestive things. Was it all on purpose?"

"Yeah." You breathe out, and he grips your inner thigh a little harder. "It was."

"Okay." It's said so flippantly but you can’t help but think that something’s coming, some sort of reprimand or punishment for your behaviour but right now all you want is his fingers on you.

"Okay, I want you to come at least twice before I'll think about fucking you. You can be a good girl, no? I think thats fair."

He moves in before you have a chance to reply and nips at the skin of your thigh with his teeth making you gasp. He makes his way up the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching against your sensitive skin and you can't help but squirm, pushing your hips up to try and get more contact. In response, he just presses his hands down on your hips, steadying you.

When he gets between your legs he stops.

"Fernando." You whine at him. "Come onnnn."

He huffs out a laugh at your antics, moving his hand down to brush lightly over the fabric of your underwear, causing your whine to become a gasp.

Pressing a little harder, he watches as the fabric dampens underneath his touch, smiling as you moan for him. Still holding you down with one hand, he starts to play with you, running his fingers over the dampening fabric, dragging it against your clit as he presses down.

"Look at how wet you are for me. Such a good girl." He pushes the fabric into you slightly, the rough feeling making you moan this time, a choked needy little noise.

"Can I..." You start but you get cut off by a circle of your clit.

"Hmm?" He says innocently, as if he isn't playing with your covered pussy like you're a little toy to amuse him.

"Can I take them off?"

"No."

He continues as you huff out a frustrated whine, needing his fingers inside you desperately.

"They're staying on until you come in them. I want to see you ruin them."

With that he doubles down, leaning in to mouth at your pussy over the fabric, the warmth and drag of the fabric nearly making you scream out. You can feel it building up, your legs tensing slightly as he holds you there so he can have his fun.

"Please..." You ask, desperately needing just a bit more pressure.

"Please what?"

"Please daddy." You respond. It slips out of you with ease, seeming almost natural and it takes you a second to notice he's raised his eyebrows at you, clearly not expecting that from you.

You feel your face flush and start to turn red as you mumble out a 'sorry'.

"No, I like it." Is all that Fernando says, gaze darkening. "Be a good girl and come for me then."

With that he sucks at your clit over the fabric and presses them into you a little as you finally feel yourself come, wrapping your legs around his head as he rides it out with you.

"Thats my good girl." He grins at you. "Ruining your pretty underwear for me."

He peels them off and you lift your hips for him so he can pull them down.

He looks at them thoughtfully, then up at your mouth, before shaking his head and throwing them aside, almost as if he was contemplating gagging you with them.

The thought makes you almost ready to go again.

"Look at you spread out and dripping for me."

He spreads your legs with his hands and runs his thumb over your dripping pussy, but avoiding your oversensitive clit.

"I need you to fuck me." You huff out.

"Ahh but you have to come again before that, no? Or did you forget."

You groan at his smirking face, throwing your head back. It doesn't last long though, as Fernando slips two fingers straight inside of you, hooking them upwards as you clench around him and let out a high pitched little noise at the feeling.

Without warning he puts his mouth directly on your clit, rolling his tongue over it as he keeps his fingers still, feeling you tighten around him as you moan and whine.

You can't help but thread your hands through his hair, pulling on him tightly as you press his head into you.

It's almost too much, you're too sensitive.

"The noises you make." He says in wonder, pulling away to look up at you. "I bet boys your age don't know what to do with you, no? You need me to fuck you properly?"

You can feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He's right, no one has ever been like this. Sure, you've had sex before but no one has ever played with you like this, with such focus and skill to make you come so fast. No one has ever made you come multiple times.

His fingers are still in you, slowly fucking in and out of you now, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like when he finally fucks you properly.

"Ye... yes." You manage to choke out, losing your grip on the ability to talk, your mind solely focused on the drag of his fingers in you and the pressure of his thumb against your clit.

"You're dripping onto the sofa Cariño, look at the mess you make." He punctuates it with a particularly fast thrust of his fingers, making you tighten and whine at him.

He speeds up, watching his fingers disappear into your wet little pussy for a moment before nipping at your thigh slightly and then running his tongue over you, up around his fingers and pressing against your clit.

You thrust your hips up and he lets you move against him, his fingers fucking into you fast and hard as you grind yourself against his face. You don't give him any warning this time, the feeling building suddenly. You tighten your thighs around him as well as the grip in his hair as you come again around his fingers.

"Fuck." You sigh as you come down, his fingers still toying with you gently before pulling out and wiping your own wetness on your thigh, the sight making you scrunch up your nose.

"So good for me." Fernando mumbles and you feel yourself blush at his words. "Do you think you can take me now?"

"Yeah, I can daddy."

"Good girl."

Before you can even begin to recover, Fernando has stripped out of his clothes and moves you until you're straddling him, his hard cock resting between you.

You get the idea, raising yourself up so you’re positioned over him and he pulls you in for a kiss as he guides his cock along the wetness of your pussy.

Slowly, you lower yourself down, feeling him stretch you out as you gasp into his mouth. He lets you take your time, biting at your lower lip as he also groans at the feeling of your hot wet cunt.

Grabbing your hips, he experimentally pushes you down a little and you whine, looking him in the eyes as he raises his eyebrow at you in a silent question.

You think you know exactly what he's asking so you nod your permission. He smiles, but more gently this time, grabbing your hips tighter and pushing you down faster than you'd been moving.

It feels so full when you finally take all of him inside of you, letting yourself adjust to the sensation as you sigh into his neck, running your teeth gently over the skin and mouthing gentle bites.

He palms at your ass, moving you in small rocking motions against him until you feel like you can move again, slowly picking up speed until you're practically bouncing on his cock, watching him close his eyes and groan at the feeling.

It gives you a little more confidence as you speed up, placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself.

One of his hands moves to thumb at your clit and you momentarily stutter in your pace, clenching around him as he tightens his grip on your hip in response.

It's almost too much, you're too sensitive from before and the feeling of him filling you up is like nothing you've ever experienced. You can feel your legs starting to shake and will yourself not to stop.

Fernando must notice though, as without any warning he picks you up, cock still buried deep inside of you, and lays you flat on the sofa, moving your legs so that they're resting on his shoulders, practically bending you in half for him.

"You're so tight mi amor."

You can’t even form the words to reply, too focused on the feeling of him fucking into you, controlling the pace as he slips a hand down to brush over your nipples, pinching them slightly before moving down to play with your clit.

It's so overwhelming that you can’t help the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Fernando is saying something, maybe in Spanish, maybe he's calling you his good girl again, you're not quite sure, all you know is that every time he circles your clit and thrusts into you you're dangerously close to losing it again.

You don't want it to end yet, it's Fernando, you've wanted this for ages and now you finally have it and you don't want to give him up.

It's no use though, he thrusts into you a little deeper and thumbs at you a little harder and you're gone, crying out his name as you come around his cock. The way you clench down around him sets him off as well, and before you know it you can feel him coming inside of you, filling up your pussy so much that when he pulls out you can feel it start to drip out of you.

He gently sits back down laying your legs out gently over him as he rests a hand on your inner thigh and runs his fingers over you gently.

"You were so good for me y/n. Look at you laid there, perfect for me." He slips his hand between your legs and gently gathers some of the come dripping out of you and fucks it into you a little bit making you squirm.

"Fernando." You breath out. "I cannot come again. I just can't."

He huffs out a laugh.

"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, fucking his fingers in again, just the tip but enough to make you gasp. "I just cant help it. You look so pretty filled up for me."

"I can't believe we just did that." You say it mostly to yourself, but Fernando laughs again, this time a little more incredulously.

"If I get pole after this, if you're my good luck charm, we might have to do it every weekend."

You know it’s a joke but still, you can't help but fantasise about being his little good luck charm all the way up to a third world championship.

[polkadotpenguin16]

The Five Stages of Grief: Denial

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: more angst; language

Word count: 1,871

Previous parts: Prologue

You went from crying on your bathroom floor to your best friend’s kitchen. Floors seemed to be the best place for a mental breakdown. Your friend wasn’t much of a drinker, but she did have a couple boxes of white wine meant for cooking. She said this was a much better use.

It did the trick.

You couldn’t believe you just walked away from Sonny like that. But you felt like you had no other options. You’ve spent far too long in relationships, both romantic and platonic, being someone’s second choice. Waiting for them to choose you. You couldn’t do it again.

“And he just stood there trying to explain why he just HAD to help AMANDA tonight.” You were retelling the night’s events, a little tipsy from the shitty wine. “How could he think that was okay? Spending all night at some other woman’s house?! How can someone be so smart, and so cute, and so…fucking stupid?”

“Probably all that hair gel,” she suggested nonchalantly. “Too thick to let any commonsense in.”

That made you snort through your nose. She was always good at making heavy situations feel lighter.

“I’m really sorry, girlfriend. You deserve better.” She tenderly rubbed your shoulder, trying to soothe your broken heart. “But you know Sonny. He’s a little…thick…but he’s got a big heart. He just wants to help everyone. That’s why you fell in love with him, remember? Sonny the Superman?”

“Whatever.” You took another swig from the box. “It’s probably better this way.”

“Hey, now, you don’t mean that—”

“I DO mean that! I was never good enough for him!” You were getting animated, spilling wine everywhere. “You’re right—he’s Superman. He needs to be with somebody just as super. Someone he can fight crimes with. Or talk about his lawyer-y stuff with who actually understands him. I mean, who knows what the hell he’s talking about? He should come with a translator. And build a perfect life with them. Y’know, the two-and-a-half kids, a dog, and the white picket fence and shit!”

You started crying again. How did you have any tears left? “He deserves the best. And she’s it! Hell, he’s probably been in love with her since they met. Why he settled for a nobody like me in the first place, I’ll never know. I’m no superhero. My power is organizing spreadsheets and tripping over my own feet. He could have Wonder Woman. Why would he want to be stuck with…whoever the fuck Superman’s lame girlfriend is!”

Your friend was quiet, letting you vent and trying to find the right words. “I know it seems that way right now.” She softens her voice, forcing you to listen more intently to hear her. “That this is all doom and gloom. Just give it time. Have some grace. His love is genuine, and he never considered it settling. You’ll work everything out.”

Resting your head against the refrigerator, you sighed. “I don’t think this can be fixed, girl. Maybe…maybe it shouldn’t be.”

She leaned in for a hug, wrapping you tightly in her embrace. You sob into her shoulder, deeply leaning into her for support. You sat silently for a while, the same thought echoing over and over in your mind.

Maybe it’s better this way…

Sonny was brought out of his trance by his alarm buzzing. He hadn’t slept at all. He just kept replaying what happened last night. It was in crystal clear high-definition in his head. How heartbroken you were. How hurt you were.

Then you just disappeared.

He hoped you’d text him when you got to your friend’s place like he asked. For his peace of mind and a sign that you didn’t completely hate him. Anxiously staring at his phone for much longer than he knew it would take you to get there, it felt like his heart was going to erupt from his chest. The list of horrific things that could’ve happened to you was getting too long. Desperate, Sonny texted your friend. He just had to know where you were. It wasn’t until after 2 in the morning that he got a reply.

Yeah she’s here.

Well, at least he knew you were safe. Still uneasy, he dared to ask if you were okay. Deep down, he already knew the answer, and it was reinforced by her response.

You think she’d be here if she was okay? Give her some time. When she’s ready, you better fix this mess you made.

This disconnect was torturing him. He wanted to fix things now. But your friend was right. He resigned himself to waiting until you came back later.

He tries his best to put himself together and heads to the precinct. Dragging his feet, he stumbled into the bullpen.

“You get hit by a bus on the way?” Rollins immediately noticed his haggard appearance. “You look like crap.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered sitting at his desk, head in his hands, trying to collect himself.

“What, your girlfriend kick you out or something?” Fin joked from his seat.

“Actually, she left last night.”

“Wait, really?” Rollins was surprised to hear this. He made the two of you sound like a fairytale love story. You were his favorite topic and would bring you up in every conversation he could. She wondered what could have changed.

Fin glared at him suspiciously. “Whaddya do?”

Sonny took a deep breath. “I, uh, forgot about our date last night, and I, sorta…stood her up.” He was mentally kicking himself for being such a moron. The guilt made his stomach churn and his head throb.

“Dude...” Fin sat back in his chair and leered.

“I know, I know. I was helping Rollins, and I just—I spaced it. She packed a bag and went to stay with her friend.”

“That’s a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?” Rollins tilted her head back and forth as she weighed out his actions. “But I get why she’d be upset. You should’ve told me you had plans, Carisi.”

Sonny buried his face deeper into his hands, feeling even guiltier.

“Stood her up? She ain’t ever gonna forget that, man,’” Fin remarked, rubbing salt into his wounds.

“But it’s gonna be fine.” Sonny sat up with a newfound determination. “We’ll talk tonight when she gets back. I’ll beg for forgiveness, and it’ll all work out.”

Rollins looked at him skeptically. “You sure about that?”

“Of course, I’m sure!” He huffed, astonished she would even ask. “Couples fight, it’s natural. They kiss, they make up, and things go back to how they were.”

“Most fights don’t include the girl leaving in the middle of the night,” Fin pointed out.

“She just—she needed some time to cool down.” You’ve always been able to resolve your arguments. They’d never been this intense before, but Sonny was confident this was all going to blow over. “She’s gonna come home and we’ll talk. I’m gonna fix this, and this will all have been a horrible dream.”

“If you say so.” Sounding unconvinced, she returned to her laptop.

Luckily, it was a slow day at the station. A rarity as of late. Sonny busted his hump finishing all his paperwork so he could ask Benson if he could head out early.

“Leaving so soon?” Rollins questioned as he put on his coat.

“Gotta run to the store and grab some things for dinner. I want everything to be perfect when she gets back.”

“I’d be picking up some flowers if I were you,” Fin advised as he sipped his coffee.

“That too—the whole nine yards.”

“Well, best of luck to you,” she hollered as he sprinted toward the elevator.

He went to the store and picked up everything to make chicken marsala. It was the first dish he ever cooked for you. He bought extra ingredients so he would have enough leftovers for you to have lunch for work tomorrow.

He swung by the flower stand to pick up a bouquet of sunflowers—your favorites. He planned out his apology in his head on the way back. Thinking of all the ways he messed up and how he would rectify them.

When he got home, he called out to you, but didn’t hear a response. Setting the bags down, he looked around the apartment to see that you weren’t home yet. Concerned, he checked his watch. It was a little early. You were probably still at work. He unpacked the groceries and started preparing dinner.

After washing the produce and still no sign of you, worry started to creep in. He knew you needed some space last night, but surely, you’d come back soon. He was positive you missed him as much as he missed you. So, he decided to send you a text.

Hey doll, what time are you coming home? Getting dinner on the stove and want it to be ready when you get back.

There was no answer. Five minutes turned into ten. He chopped up the mushrooms and garlic and let them sauté in the pan before checking his phone. There was still nothing. He opened a bottle of beer to help settle his nerves. It was half-way gone when he checked again.

Still, nothing.

Not wanting to panic yet, he texted you again.

I’m sorry about last night. I really need to talk to you. I miss you.

Several more minutes passed. He could see the messages labeled as “read” on his phone. You just weren’t responding. Skipping past panic and going into full-blown hysteria, he fumbled with his phone trying to call you. He paced around the kitchen anxiously while listening to the phone ring.

Once. Twice. Three times.

He heard the call pick up after the fourth ring. But he couldn’t hear anyone on the other end. “Doll?” He asked hesitantly, wondering if you had actually answered.

He barely heard a whisper, “…yes…”

“Doll, are you okay?! When are you coming home?” He was frantic, talking a mile a minute. “Please come back! I’m really sorry and have to talk to you—I need to explain. We’ve gotta work this out. Just please—I need you to come home!”

You silently wept while listening to him ramble. You wanted to believe this could all be fixed, but your heart was telling you it would be futile. The cycle would just continue. What would happen the next time someone else needed him? Would you be enough?

“I’m sorry…” You were barely able to get your words out. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?!” It felt like his whole world was slipping through his fingers. Like water through a sieve. He was unable to stop it or even slow it down. “We have to fix this! Please come home!”

“I love you, but I just…” The line went quiet. He called out your name once, twice, but it was useless.

You were gone.

Sonny had never felt so defeated in his life. Slumping against the counter, he slammed his phone down. His eyes started to feel wet. He stood in the kitchen and quietly cried, taken aback by the fallout of one night. One mistake. One forgotten date.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 26

PLEASEEEEEE NOTE: this is a Maturity rating chapter. heed the content warnings below etc etc

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

this one was supposed to be merged with chap 25 but it was getting long and i felt like this motive reveal chapter should be isolated anyways

one day i will write a full thing about fucking nasty style and post that online without the 25 chapters of leadup

ty @digitaldollsworld for the peer review and validating me specifically :)

Content warning tags: blood, physical violence/roughhousing, biting, making out (while bloodied. mild bloodplay?), mildly dubious consent becoming unspoken consent given enthusiastically becoming dubious consent again, coitus interruptus, mild (nonsexual) breathplay, murder plot suggestion, unhealthy relationship dynamics...Please let me know if there's anything I'm missing

< previous - from start - next >

To his surprise, they don’t continue on the same path together.

Instead, they split, with Kirigiri walking towards the stairs, and Makoto in the opposite direction. Without exchanging words, or even a glance.

It gives him pause for a moment, but the choice is ultimately easy. Kirigiri, for all her mysteriousness, does not seem like the kind to be swayed by money, or most other things for that matter, and would certainly not hesitate to point out his current state. He goes after Makoto instead, trailing him some steps behind into the supply room.

The place is the same as ever - stacked with materials, shelves crammed snug with crates of all sizes, and with the air disconcertingly clean and free of dust, as if Monokuma vacuumed every day - and the overhead lights hum and buzz, glowing with an insufficient yellow light. Makoto is crouched near the far wall, over a box on a bottom shelf. Byakuya approaches, making no effort to conceal himself.

For a moment, neither of them say a word. Makoto continues to rummage, and Byakuya simply watches, arms crossed, waiting patiently as the silence stretches to minutes. 

Finally, Makoto turns over his shoulder. “Uh…hi?” He doesn’t sound startled or surprised by Byakuya’s presence, but more bewildered by it than anything. “Do you need something?”

Somehow, it doesn’t sound sarcastic or spiteful. On the other hand, he sounds so genuine that it dissipates any tension that might’ve been in the air. Byakuya sighs, a little exasperated, but less bothered than he thought he should be.

He was going to ask what Makoto’s feelings were about the motive reveal, but suddenly the atmosphere is all wrong for it, and such a conversation feels too exhausting to have now. “What are you doing?” He asks instead.

“I’m…” Makoto trails off, turning back to look into the box. “...Looking for something.”

“Yes, I gathered that much.” He rolls his eyes, and steps nearer. Even standing right behind him, it was impossible to determine the exact contents of the box just by looking, and he didn’t remember the exact locations where all the products were stored either. “I’m blind, not stupid.”

And he blinks, surprised by what he just said; that hadn’t been the snide remark he wanted to make. It feels like it should have been harder to say, and yet the words had left his mouth easily, like he’d been waiting to finally say it for himself. Makoto startles a bit, just as taken aback by the admission as he.

“I…” Makoto starts, then looks back down. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.” 

The response is so meek it’s annoying, and not the kind of answer he was wanting from someone who had been sneakily butting into his life the past few days, and he scowls. Whatever light-heartedness had been previously present was now slipping quickly away into irritation. “I don’t need your pointless scraping. What are you looking for?”

Makoto doesn’t answer. Rather, he continues to dig through the box, acting as if he hadn’t heard Byakuya’s question at all; a complete reversal from the previous sheepish, meaningless apologizing. It’s almost jarring, if it wasn’t also something entirely infuriating - he couldn’t remember the last time someone had the gall to ignore him, other than his father - and Byakuya childishly aims a kick at his shin. “Answer me.”

“Ow,” He says instead, unconvincingly. “Okay, okay, um. Do you promise not to get mad?”

“I’m going to be even angrier if you keep talking in circles.” He snaps, the last threads of his patience thinning. “I know for a fact that you’re not this wimpish, so speak up.”

Even despite the demand, Makoto is silent a little moment longer, rummaging still. Byakuya is about to kick him again, when he stands up, a tiny, blue box clutched in his hand.

“You, uh…you were shaving this morning, right?” He takes a deep breath, then holds the box out. “You’ve got a little blood here-” And he taps a finger against his cheek, somewhere below his ear; Byakuya mirrors the movement, reaching up to feel that thin line of roughness, the scab tugging at the skin. “And…I remembered my dad gave me this brand of razor, it’s really easy to use-”

Byakuya smacks the thing out of his hands before he can even finish speaking, sending it spinning across the floor, beneath some other shelf.

For a moment, the two of them stand there, stock still. Byakuya can feel his pulse thrumming in his ears, throbbing against his eardrums; he’s not sure which of them is more shocked, to be honest. Makoto’s hand is still partially outstretched, now empty.

Then: “What the hell is your problem?!” Makoto demands, instantaneous and loud and cracked with a slight note of hysteria. The sound bounces tinnily between the metal shelving units, before being swallowed into the wooden surfaces of the crates.

“What is your problem?” Byakuya shoots back, just as furious. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want your pity?”

“It’s not pity if I’m trying to keep you alive,” Makoto grabs his arm, shoving it upwards. His hand is nowhere big enough to wrap around it, but the grip is tight anyways, fingers digging into the hollow junction of his wrist. “You barely eat, you don’t talk to anyone-”

“I’m trying to keep myself safe-”

“That’s shit, that’s bullshit. You look,” He breaks to breathe, to laugh, and his grip tightens, grinding the bones. “You look like such shit, and it’s not even hard to tell. It’s so obvious that you’re trying to hide it but you can’t, and everyone can see that you’re falling apart and it’s so pathetic but you won’t let anyone get close enough to tell you that -” He’s shaking, or maybe that’s Byakuya himself. “Just-”

And falls silent - no, not entirely silent. Byakuya can hear his uneven breathing, the quiet squeaks in his throat. Stifling the sound of his crying, still only just audible over the hum and clanks of the building’s internals, and the ring in his own ears.

Why was he crying? The thought is fleeting, and should have just been a blip in everything else. “I am not,” He starts, and the latter half of that sentence never even becomes coherent in his own mind.

Instead, he tries to wrench his hand backwards and away from Makoto’s grip, and Makoto just follows him, pushing him, until his back meets the hard, uneven edges of a shelving unit, digging into his shoulders.

“You are, you so are,” Makoto wheezes. His hand shakes violently, but Byakuya still can’t break out of it; his wrist is being pinned to the metal frame, the cold surface a shock against his skin. “You - fuck, you can’t even take care of yourself. You try to act so cool but you’re so helpless it’s lame. You’re trying so hard to predict where the next threat is coming from but your biggest threat is yourself. You can’t even see what’s happening around you, so you don’t even try to find out - I just -”

And he stops, taking another deep, shaky breath, head dipping down until his forehead rests against Byakuya’s collarbone. His other hand is bracing the edge of a shelf, next to Byakuya’s hip, and Byakuya can feel it by sheer proximity, the warmth bleeding impossibly through the layers of Makoto’s jacket and his own thin shirt.

He-

should say something. Anger and indignation boils in his gut, how dare Makoto say such things? Who gave him the right? Didn’t he know who Byakuya was?

But-

what can he say, when it feels like he’s suddenly been struck stupid. Like he’s a child again facing his first real defeat at the hand of one of his siblings’s lackeys, kneeling with scraped knees weeping blood into his pants as he’s being taunted, the words hysteric and victorious. Like he’s trying to argue with Kirigiri, but she’s already had the last word and is simply walking away.

So he resorts to the same answer he had the first time he was forced to concede to one of his siblings, and kicks Makoto in the shin.

It’s not a very strong blow. Caged in against the shelf as he is, he doesn’t have enough space to pull back very far; but it makes Makoto grunt, surprised, and his hold loosens. Byakuya shoves him backwards, and glances to his side, where the white light spilling from the open door marks the exit.

He could leave. He doubts Makoto could catch him if he ran seriously. But his legs refuse to move; it would feel too much like conceding. He’s been losing too much these past few days to forfeit again, now.

Makoto is standing in front of him, the overhead lights above providing just enough illumination for Byakuya to make out the location of his nose, the curve of his brow, and in the split second before he can do anything Byakuya reaches out. One hand snags fingertips into Makoto’s hood. The other grabs his face, slotting his chin almost tenderly into the space between forefinger and thumb.

The effect is instantaneous, Makoto’s cheeks heating beneath his fingertips. “Hey, wh-”

Byakuya feels his face pull, an undignified baring of teeth that’s barely reminiscent of a smile, before he drags Makoto forward and knees him in the gut.

He prefers more dignified solutions to things, but violence is the most universally understood language, and he can admit to its usefulness when the need calls. Like now, as Makoto wheezes, bent over, his hands clutching unsteadily in Byakuya’s shirt to keep himself upright.

This is how it should be, he thinks, as he looks down at the crown of Makoto’s head with a twisted sense of triumph. It hardly lasts long before Makoto’s moving again with an animalistic growl, fingers twisting so tightly Byakuya can feel some threads snap in his shirt, before he’s shoved backwards with a rattling clang against the shelves.

It’s hardly enough to stun him, but he winces anyway, at the metal frame digging between his shoulder blades. Far more effective, is what comes next - Makoto sways, resting his forehead against Byakuya’s chest - before surging upwards, colliding the top of head against his nose.

The taste of copper is an afterthought to the sharp, explosive burst of pain. Byakuya screams - snarls - with it, blood tracking a hot line down his upper lip, stinging against raw skin. He sinks his hands into Makoto’s hair, and yanks roughly, trying to drag him off.

It’s unsuccessful. He doesn’t have the strength in his arms to move the weight of another teenage male, but it’s not wholly ineffective either. He hears a sharp intake of breath, and he’s managed to drag Makoto’s head backwards enough to see his face.

A face that, even in the dim yellow light of the supply room, is flushed darker than usual. And with eyes that are blown wide, the blotted shape of iris-pupils very, very dark against the whites.

It takes a moment for him to put together what that means through the haze, before Makoto’s hands are resituating themselves in Byakuya’s shirt collar, and yanking him down to - kiss him.

He freezes for a moment, mind once again going utterly blank. It’s nothing more than a hard press of lips, almost far too innocent compared to their previous state. Makoto’s lips are warm and slightly chapped, and sliding slightly against his as he smears the blood over his mouth.

It continues for a long moment, the two of them frozen in place, until Byakuya realizes that Makoto was beginning to pull away, his hold loosening; willingly seceding control over, meek again, and anger works its way up in Byakuya’s skull, spiking sharp and precise through the delirium.

He twists his hands, fingers tightening in the locks of Makoto’s hair, and forces him still, bowing his head down to bite at the seam of Makoto’s mouth with all the composure of a starving dog, smearing blood, tongue and teeth snagging in the cracked skin of his lips.

He pulls away just enough to grin, savagely, at the sight of Makoto with a vividly dark slice staining across his mouth. “That is how you kiss someone,” He whispers, with something dark and self-satisfied curling in his gut.

The only response Makoto gives is a low, almost inhuman sound, before he’s being yanked down again.

There’s nothing chaste about it this time. Rather, it’s more like a continuation of their fight, biting, clacking teeth, hands scrabbling and grasping for purchase. Makoto matches his every move with the same exact vigor, and Byakuya tastes salt and hot metal and the over-sweet sourness of energy drinks and laughs into the kiss, breathless and triumphant at Makoto’s desperation, the feeling of hands dragging down his sides, even as he claws back, trying to drag him nearer, nails raking across the thick fabric of his blazer, down his back, over his arms. In turn, Makoto licks into his mouth, tonguing hotly over his canines, the soft roof of his palate.

Disgusting. Byakuya shudders, and lets his jaw slacken just a little more.

He feels his back beginning to slide, uncomfortably, down the frame. It’s both an annoyance and a relief - the previous angle was killing his neck - but then Makoto leans forward, weight pressing against him, sandwiching him there, and digging his spine painfully against the hard juts of the shelves.

Byakuya half-thinks to scold him for that, but at the same time, Makoto is sliding his leg between his thighs, propping him up, and the reprimand turns into a groan instead, breathy and desperate and far too loud in the solitude of the supply room.

He jerks back, suddenly self-aware again, face flushed to burning. This was - he feels his head swimming, self-appalled, rivaling the temptation to sink down a little lower, lean into the hands that are now feeling clumsily up his ribcage - utterly unbecoming of him. To give into such base temptations-

Ever persistent and apparently undeterred by the absence of his mouth, Makoto leans forward and presses his teeth to the side of Byakuya’s neck instead, and the rest of Byakuya’s coherent thoughts try to fly out with those thin, pinprick-sharp flares of pain.

“Idiot,” He still manages to hiss, even as he gives in and grinds down, against a sweet pressure that makes everything feel so - indescribably - “Bastard, you pathetic little-”

Talking was getting troublesome. He presses his hands against Makoto’s cheeks, feeling a small thrill of victory when he feels his thumbs brush the corner of his lips on the first try, and kisses him again, feeling dizzy with it.

His hands shift, seeking out better purchase in Makoto’s hood, knuckles pressing against the warm, jumping muscles in his neck, the other sinking into his hair again. This time more to keep himself upright as Makoto was apparently trying to bite his tongue off - and that thought really shouldn’t be doing anything for Byakuya, and yet -

Tap, tap. Tap.

“Makoto,” He gasps, whines, managing to pull himself away once more. This time grabbing onto Makoto’s face and pushing him backwards like an undisciplined, overeager dog - the other boy struggles for a moment, pushing back against his hands - “Wait, just - calm down, you - do you hear that?”

It takes a moment for Makoto to respond. “Wh-huh?” He manages, somewhat incoherently, which Byakuya…supposes, is reasonable. They’re still pressed against each other, and Byakuya can still feel something pressing against his thigh, which he tries very hard to ignore, in favor of concentrating hard.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It doesn’t sound like it was coming from the hallways. But it couldn’t be the heating or piping in the walls either; it was too soft, and…too dynamic, too purposeful, for that. He cranes his head over his shoulder, but the only thing behind him was the shelf, some boxes, and the flat, gray expanse of the wall.

Tap. Tap, tap, taptaptap-

The sound rises to a sudden crescendo, speeding behind him. Almost reflexively, he shoves away from the shelf, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Makoto lands on his back with a grunt, and Byakuya lands nearly on top of him, before scrabbling backwards until his back meets the shelf, self-awareness shattering his earlier insanity.

Makoto is staring at him, face still flushed and dazed. “Hey, what was-?”

“Awahwahwah!? Kyahh!!”

They jerk their heads in unison, turning to find a short, round, oblong shape standing in the doorway. Monokuma stands there with face covered by paws, squealing. “C-c-could this be?! The fabled, mythical, super-ultra-sexy-secret-rendezvous I heard about from the headmaster’s handbook?! Wah! My eyes!! My untainted, honest, adorable teddy-button eyes!!!”

“Shut up!” Byakuya snaps, voice far too high-pitched to not be damning, despite his best attempts to calm down. He surreptitiously turns away from the door, and can see Makoto doing something similar out of the corner of his eye, tucking his knees up close to his chest. Monokuma shakes, either from laughter or phony horror.

“Oh, there’s no need to worry, Young Master Byakuya. I’m a very progressive bear, after all!” It nods emphatically, and Byakuya grits his teeth at the derisive use of the title. “After all, I am your headmaster, and I want this place to be all sweet and accepting of all my students! You can talk to your classmates about it at this seminar I’m planning-”

“Get out of here.” Makoto rasps, voice still rough and a little unsteady. He sounds downright furious, more so than Byakuya remembers ever hearing him. “It wasn’t- It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh-ho? T’wasn’t it?” Monokuma tilts its head, and toddles over with squeaky footsteps. “Well then, what did happen? Because it certainly looked to me like I just blue-beared you two!” And it cackles hysterically at its own joke, the sound grating and echoing between the shelves.

“He-” Makoto’s sneakers scrape against the floor as he shifts, hesitating. “He was- trying to…trying to kill me.”

And even through the rising haze of fury, panic, and nauseating shame, Byakuya’s thoughts grind to a sudden halt.

“What?” He says aloud, at the same time as Monokuma squeals with apparent delight, drowning him out entirely.

“Oh, oh! Is that so?” And it rounds on him, all of a sudden far too close for comfort, his vision divided white and black. “Tell me, is this true? What was the weapon? What was the plan? Oh, it’s a shame I interrupted, so now I gotta make up for the lost opportunity! Spill the deets!”

So none of it had meant anything. Their pathetic, awkward fumbling in the dark, his brief delusion of control, had only amounted to this. Back to being humiliated and shamed by a grinning, faceless mastermind, and with no more authority over himself as he did before, as Makoto was trying to save him. Again.

He kicks Monokuma away, sending it spinning with a yelp into one of the shelves, and bolts from the room. Makoto is shouting after him, and soon there are footsteps dogging at his heels, but he makes it all the way back to his bedroom before Makoto catches up to him as he’s trying to unlock the door.

He narrowly makes it inside, tries to swing the door shut but it bounces off of Makoto’s shoe, jammed in just in time - and he’d wince in sympathy, or mull in the dejá vu of it, if he wasn’t currently trying to tamp down his own swell of emotions, nearing to breaking through his thinly held-together composure.

“Why did you say that,” He spits through clenched teeth. Too exhausted to try and force him out, too angry to just ignore him. “Of all the stupid, useless lies to come up with, you had to choose one that made me look even more pathetic?!”

“What were you going to say, then,” Makoto shoots back, just as irritated. “Was there anything more plausible that would’ve been better for you than ‘we were making out in the closet’?!”

He doesn’t bother to reply. Because no, that was the most believable thing Makoto could have said, which was why he was so furious now. There was the logical setting, an established motive - the set-up for a cheap, impassioned crime, with no thought or grace behind it. 

If he had said it himself, he might have barely been able to salvage his own pride. But having to be defended by his own so-called ‘victim’, having to be saved by Makoto again-

He sits down heavily on the bed, rubbing his temples. “Just leave, Makoto.” He sighs, eyes screwed shut. He’s too tired for this, and would rather try and sleep and forget it all. Or break down, which was beginning to feel like a very real possibility, which he’d rather do in the privacy of his own room anyways.

But instead of leaving, Makoto drops down to the floor with a thump, directly in front of him. “I’m not leaving until you go eat something.” He says, stubbornly, apparently recalling his entire original purpose of trying to bully him into codependency.

I was hoping he would’ve forgotten that. Byakuya feels a pulse throb beneath his fingertips, exasperation pushing through the rising fog of panic. “Must we do this now?”

“If I don’t, you’re going to ignore and avoid me and everyone else again, right?” He could almost hear the teasing smile tugging at the corner of Makoto’s mouth. “But, um. I mean. If you don’t want to talk, we could…you know…”

It takes a moment to identify exactly what he’s suggesting, but the disbelieving laugh that escapes Byakuya’s mouth is entirely unintentional, the panic miraculously dissipating in the same breath. “You can’t be serious.”

“I-I mean-! I’m totally okay if you don’t want to, I just thought…” Makoto trails off with a cough. “I…it was kind of a joke. Um- but you were enjoying it too, right?” There’s a thin note of hesitance in his voice.

Byakuya sighs. “...Yes. Unfortunately so.” Enough that if he thinks too much on it, he’ll become aware of the buzzing still lingering in his lips and the feeling of warmth beneath his hands, the low throb in his nose where the bleeding had only just stopped, and there was no good way that particular thought process was going to end. He’d almost prefer the impending anxiety attack to this.

“O-oh, okay. Cool. That’s cool.” Makoto rocks a little bit. “So…”

“I’m not having sex with you right now.” He deadpans, and Makoto has the gall to blush sheepishly, as if he weren’t the one making the suggestion in the first place.

“Right. Yeah, of course.” He scratches his head with a quiet laugh. “We…kinda took it a little fast, huh?”

That was an understatement. And he raises a hand over his face, trying to hide the heat rising beneath his fingers…much of what had happened was mostly due to his own actions. “Well, it’s not like we are in a situation where we could have a normal progression of things.”

“I don’t know, we have a pretty good kitchen. I would’ve liked to make you dinner first, or something.”

“How romantic. Forgive me if the idea of a school cafeteria meal doesn’t sweep me off my feet.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try it. I can make a pretty good omelet on a good day…if you’re okay with that.” The lilting invitation is clear, and Byakuya snorts.

“I should’ve murdered you in front of Monokuma.” He deadpans back.

Now it was Makoto’s turn to chuckle, a soft, surprised ‘ha!’ that makes Byakuya smile wholly inadvertently.

“Yeah, probably,” He agrees. “Did you want to?”

The smile slides off his face instantly. It sounds like Makoto is joking, but - it’s hard to tell. So hard to tell without being able to see if he’s smiling, if the easy tone of his voice matches his face.

“Do you want to?” He asks again, voice softer, serious.

Probably not a joke, then. He laces his fingers tightly, tight enough for his joints to ache, pressing the knuckles to his chin. “It hadn’t…crossed my mind.” Not seriously, at least. And not since the last trial.

But he could. There was no deal to uphold, not anymore. And Makoto - 

“Why are you asking?” He looks up for the first time, at Makoto, sitting cross-legged on his carpet. Staring back at him. “Surely you don’t want to die?”

Makoto doesn’t reply, his face still curiously, infuriatingly blank.

Everything that had been previously cleared comes rushing back, fury and disbelief and - anxiety, of all things, a painful, welling lump of it rising up his gullet - and before he knows it, he’s on the ground, kneeling across from Makoto with his hands around his neck.

The skin is warm. Shockingly soft, slightly tacky with sweat. The pressure isn’t enough to cut off airflow - his hands are only just resting against his throat - but Byakuya flexes his thumbs lightly, feeling the shape of his Adam’s apple beneath his fingers, his pulse beneath his palms.

And the whole time, Makoto makes no move to push him off. He had twitched, maybe, surprised at first, but that was all, now frozen stock-still - no, he was relaxing into the touch, muscles going purposefully slack as his shoulders slump.

“...What are you doing.” He whispers. Tenses his fingers, feels the breath hitch. “I could kill you right now. Why aren’t you stopping me?” Takes a deep, shuddering breath as he feels his voice begin to break. “Don’t tell me you actually want to die here!”

Makoto’s mouth is a dark cavern as he opens it to respond. “I don’t. Of course I don’t.” His voice wheezes slightly. “But if it’s you… I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”

Byakuya feels his hands shake. This was too much, all of it too much - he hadn’t even concluded how he felt about Makoto yet, not coherently - and apparently, in the time he’d spent in self-isolation, something had become twisted. The most mundane person here had become wholly insane. For his sake.

I must be insane too, he thinks, for the tiny, irrational thrill of joy that runs through him at that realization.

He jerks when he feels hands resting over his, fingers tracing delicately over the fine lines of his knuckles, the hollow of his wrist. Keeping his grip steady.

“I don’t think you will, though,” Makoto continues. “You don’t really want to kill anyone. You would’ve done it already if you did.”

“Don’t act like you know me.” He grits, grip spasming, torn between removing himself from Makoto and throttling him to shut him up. “You know perfectly well there’s a difference between intent and capabilities.”

Makoto takes a shaky, raspy breath. A slash of white pulls across his face. “Then are you gonna prove me wrong?”

Byakuya hesitates for too long. In that time, the hands that rest over his pull and then press, and he flinches as his palms fully meet Makoto’s neck, almost icily cool against the clamminess of his own skin. He yanks them backwards like he’d been burned, too shocked to even scold him for - for any of it. Too flustered to wonder if he even could.

His hands shake, still, even when he clenches them into fists with his nails biting into his palms, pressing into his knees.

Makoto coughs once, massaging his neck, before he stands up slowly.

“Let’s go,” He says, still smiling as he offers up a hand. “I’ll make you an omelet.”

< previous - from start - next >

[xxnashiraxx]

With Stars to Fill My Dream (13) - Moving Through the Silence Without Motion

Whew- sorry, this one took longer than anticipated!! I was on vacation last weekend and couldn't make the last-minute changes I wanted to make that would have allowed me to post on Tuesday, but it's all done now! ☺ Back on schedule!

✧˖ Release Schedule: Every 2 Weeks ˖✧

Summary: The camp deals with the aftermath of their encounter with the dream visitor, and a certain fluffy friend joins their odd group of misfits. Ofelia experiences another embarrassing predicament, and their party finally enters the goblin camp to face down the three leaders and clear the way for the tieflings in the Grove. Branded by a priestess, rediscovering the luxury of coffee, and sharing a sweet opportunity with her favorite fanged companion aren't enough to cushion the blow of reality all while Astarion tries to sort through emotions he would rather not address.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 7,603

AO3

Took some fun screenshots!! Please enjoy the opening below the cut ❤

✧˖Tag List: @khywren @allymcfee

“Are you alright?” Shadowheart pokes her face into Ofelia’s tent, pale and clammy. Ofelia scrambles to wipe her tears away, nodding and meeting the half-elf’s eyes.

“Yeah… I think so… did you see it too?” Shadowheart’s lips set in a firm line, nodding softly.

“We all did. Here, it’s dawn… come out. Let’s all sit and talk around the fire.”

Ofelia heeds Shadowheart’s suggestion, pulling her boots on and fixing her hair into a loose bun, resolving to bathe before they start the day. Officially. She hesitates, once again finding her return to her bedroll to be a mystery.

The last thing she remembers is swaying in Astarion’s arms, thinking about how pretty he looked under the light of stars, music from her own world making her feel like they were in their own pocket in time, separated from the tadpole, the cult, all of it. She remembers wishing he’d been from Earth, that way she’d want to go back… And try as she might, she can’t bury these stupid feelings.

Her face flushes in shame at the memory of pressing that kiss to his cheek, that pang of longing when he hadn’t shoved her away but instead gazed at her in surprise… It makes forgetting that it happened ten times worse. Then she returned to her tent, somehow, a faint feeling of unease now clouding her mind. How did she get back? Did she go back alone? She can’t shake the feeling that she’s missing something important, but she can’t put her finger on what it might be…

She walks out into the early dawn, stunned to find another surprise- a welcome one at that.

“Scratch!” Ofelia crumples to her knees as he runs up from beyond the outskirts of their camp, the rest of her groggy companions yelping or jumping out of the way as the dog barrels into her. “Oh, I’m so glad you're safe!” She mumbles into his fur as it pokes her neck and cheek and he nearly knocks her backward. He licks her face and barks and she scratches his ears, giving him little kisses on the snout and top of his head.

“Is that a dog? Oh my goodness!” Karlach cries tearfully, bringing a stick over. She seems to be talking to Scratch, but all Ofelia can hear are soft yips and excited growling. “He says he wants to stay if we’ve got the room?”

“Oh my god of course he can stay!” Ofelia sobs, wiping her eyes as Scratch licks the happy tears off her cheeks. “I love him so much,” She sniffles to Karlach and the two of them giggle and lead Scratch over to the fire as the rest of their companions huddle around.

“In addition to Lae’zel, we’re letting more than one mangy mutt stick around?” Astarion frowns, a sour look on his face. Ofelia scoffs as Gale hands her a steaming cup of tea, watching Lae’zel do no more than grunt and roughly shoulder the vampire out of the way on her path toward the fire. His affronted yelp and subsequent snarl make Ofelia laugh under her breath as she smiles at Gale in thanks and hands Scratch a couple of hunks of sausage from their stock.

“You all were approached in your sleep by the same visitor, weren’t you?” Astarion mutters, lips still twisted in displeasure. Ofelia regards his unkempt head of hair with an amused smile, feeling privileged to see him before he’s had a chance to put himself together for the day.

[trblsvt]

★ my favorite lyrics + seventeen

pairing | ot13 x fem!reader genre | angst, hurt comfort (?), fluff (if you squint?) warnings | references to sex/suggestive, swearing, situationships! ALSDKJ, toxic relationships, actual breakups, heartbreak, and relationship angst, cheating/infidelity (?) in one section (it’s a first date, but someone gets distracted), alcohol consumption min | lowercase intended. and honestly i say fem!reader but i don’t think i used any pronouns that indicate gender identity. (keeping the tag to stay safe). some (most if not all) of these songs came from my top 100 songs of last year. and most of these are kind of sad... sorry

choi seungcheol “you're scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night. i'm scared that i'll miss you, happens every time” - die for you by the weeknd

you just didn’t get it, he thought to himself. you were looking for something that he couldn’t give you, or something he didn’t know how to give you. he couldn’t stop thinking about the way your eyes were welling up after he told you that he wasn’t trying to gain anything else from the relationship. 

“so this is all i mean to you? just a thing to use when you’re bored?” you asked, quietly. it appeared that had taken every ounce of fire out of you. 

of course not, he thought. i’d do anything for you.

“yes,” he confirmed. why did i say that? he thought again.

“get out of my house, choi seungcheol.”

ouch. you knew he hated being called his full name, especially by you. he remembered when you did it jokingly and he held that stupid pout on his lips for almost two hours. (that is until you went over to him and planted kisses all over his face). 

he didn’t understand what was so wrong with what the two of you had going on. he thought you were happy. it worked out great. together, but not actually together. after the first time he spent the night, he realized how strong his feelings for you were. they were so far beyond anything he had ever felt before. now how was he supposed to explain that to you. 

“no,” he said simply. 

“i don’t want to see you anymore, seungcheol, so leave!” you yelled at him. “i’ve wanted more from you ever since i met you, but now i can see that’s something you’ve never wanted.”

“that’s not true.”

“then tell me, seungcheol! what am i missing? because you just told me i’ve been nothing but your plaything while i was putting my heart in your hands.”

“i’m scared that i’ll miss you too much.”

you froze.

“i’m so scared that if i give myself to you, the way you deserve, it’ll just hurt more when you realize that i’m not the one for you. i can barely think when i’m away from you. i don’t think i’ll be able to breathe if i’m actually with you. i miss you so much just when i leave after every night. i don’t know how to give you what you want. i don’t even know where to start. i’m sorry.” he didn’t know when he started crying, but he was. he diverted his gaze to the floor. his heart wouldn’t only hurt more if he looked at you. his heart would hurt and he’d only miss you more when you told him to leave again. so he was surprised when he felt your hands come up and wipe his tears away. “then try,” you mumbled softly. “try.”

yoon jeonghan “and the funny thing is i would've married you if you'd have stuck around” - doomsday by lizzy mcalpine

there you were. as beautiful as the day when he last saw you. you were just sitting there reading at a table in the local cafe the two of you frequented when you were together. “jeonghan?” you asked, standing up from your place.

shit. was he staring?

“hi, ___,” he finally responded. 

“i knew you looked familiar,” you laughed, and he wished he could keep it forever. “i see that you’re growing your hair out again, it looks nice.” 

“thanks.” he would never change his hairstyle ever again. 

“come sit, it’s been a while.”

so he sat.

he sat and he listened as you talked. how you finished your degree. how you finally bought an apartment that you actually liked. how you got that dog you always wanted. how you got promoted at work. and how you had a great new boyfriend, and that said boyfriend was meeting you in the next fifteen to twenty minutes. “so what about you, jeonghan? how’s work? how’s joshua? i bet you have all the ladies after you,” you joked.

he could say it. he could say that he was still so deeply in love with you. he could say “i love you” over and over again to make up for the times when he didn’t. he could say that he wanted you to break up with your boyfriend. he could say that he hasn’t been able to find someone else without comparing them to you in every way possible. he could even say that he wished every night that he was the one in your dreams in the same way you were in his. 

yet, he didn’t, not after what he did. it would be wildly inappropriate to tell you that, especially when you seemed so happy without him. so all he said was, “oh you know me, pretty average. it was really nice to catch up with you.”

you gave him a look, and he somehow knew he was busted. “i don’t hate you for what you did, jeonghan. know that, alright? we were both a bit too immature for one another. i would’ve married you in heartbeat though, even if it meant you left me with all your broken pieces,” you sighed. “i loved you, jeonghan.”

loved.

“and i’m certain you will find someone who loves you as much as i did you.”

but i love you.

“thank you, ___. truly,” was all he said, but wasn’t what he wanted to say. 

hong joshua “and i'd leave you, but the roller coaster is all i've ever had. yeah, it's one step forward and three steps back. do you love me, want me, hate me?” - 1 step forward, 3 steps back by olivia rodrigo

“clearly i’ve wasted my time my time on you,” you finally said. that shut him up. “you can’t possibly mean that,” he stammered, but the blank look on your face told him otherwise.

“i can’t be the only person invested in this relationship, joshua!” you sighed.

“who said you were?” you scoffed at that. joshua had been wildly absent from your relationship, opting to hang out with friends playing basketball, eating out, watching movies. really doing anything except be with you. “well it sure fucking feels like, joshua,” you grumbled.

“what did you say?” he sounded angry, but the look on his face looked more confused than anything. damn his face. damn that perfect smile. damn those kind eyes that kept you crawling back to him even if he stood you up for the third time that week. “i said it feels like i’m the only person putting anything into this relationship. when you told me that you wanted to go beyond just fucking i really believed you, and i was actually excited about getting to put an actual label on whatever we had. but now, i don’t fucking know how to act around you. you stood me up at least three times last week, and i-”

“what do you want from me, ___? i showed up tuesday night and we watched all the movies you wanted, didn’t we?” he interrupted. 

unbelievable.

“yeah, and then when you said we could hang out on friday night you suddenly ditched me. not only that, seungcheol told me you guys went to play basketball on friday and proceeded to go out to dinner afterwards,” you huffed. “it’s like we make some sort of progress in this - this - whatever this is - and then you do something that sets us back!”

“god, do you need to be with me all the fucking time. you’re so clingy,” he grumbled under his breath, but you heard him.

“clingy? i’m only upset because you said you were going to be there. you said you were free and that you wanted to hang out. i’m upset because you don’t even give me the simple courtesy of saying ‘oh hey i’m sorry something came up’ or ‘i actually can’t, i had plans with the guys.’ but no, i don’t hear anything from you. to think i actually love you. fuck you, hong,” you spat, grabbing your things and heading out his door before he could stop you. 

“wait! love? you love me? ___!” he called after you, but you were over it. despite how much it hurt your heart to leave behind his stupid laugh, his stupid music taste, and his stupid eyes that you’re quite sure you probably won’t get over. 

ironically enough, that was the first time you said “i love you,” and probably the last.

wen junhui 请快回来 想听你说说你还在 “please come back quickly, i want to hear from you that you are still there” - unbreakable love by eric chou

he knew you were sick of waiting around for him. work was hard and so was maintaining a relationship. a lot harder than he thought it was going to be. when he began going away for extended periods of time you always called or texted when you were about to go to sleep or when you woke up in the morning. 

then he started going away more. 

he was around less.

couldn’t call you back as often as he once did.

then you started contacting him less. 

the messages that held the run-downs about your days became infrequent and then rare. he reached out too, but calls and messages were brief. he began wondering what he was even trying for anymore. his friend, minghao, began to notice this. he noticed jun frowning at his phone more, or he looked more anxious by the end of the day like he was running late to something.

he knew you were probably busy. he couldn’t expect you to wait around for his calls, but his brain told him otherwise. it told him that maybe you were tired of waiting around for him. 

he was sitting in minghao’s hotel room eating some lame takeout for the nth time this week. minghao could tell that jun was not focused on his meal or in the conversation they were having. “you should probably just call ___,” minghao suggested.

“what if, what if it’s a bad time?” jun countered, a weak defense.

“just call, wimp. worst case scenario: leave a voicemail,” minghao shrugged. 

“fine. see you tomorrow.”

“you owe me for the food.”

“yeah, yeah.”

jun made his way back to his own hotel room and pulled up your contact. “just do it,” he grumbled and pressed call. he sat down on his bed as he listened to the ringing. on the fifth ring you picked up. there was loud music in the back with muffled voices. “jun? hey, babe,” you yelled.

“hi, ___. i was just checking in to see how you’re doing. i’m coming back home next week,” he sighed, feeling a bit more at ease.

“that’s great, junnie! i’m looking forward to it.” you sounded absentminded. “am i interrupting something?” he asked.

“oh, well, it’s my friend’s birthday party and she’s going a bit off the rails. can i call you back later?” you explained as lightly as possible. you knew how he got about this kind of stuff. “oh yeah, totally. you should’ve told me earlier, i don’t want to interrupt your fun. have fun,” he said pulling the phone down from his ear, not hearing how you paused and tried to call out to him.

so you do have better things to be doing. he understood. you were your own person, but it had been so long since he had even spoken to you. maybe you didn’t want to wait around anymore. then he saw all the posts that you shared of you out having fun, without him. you looked happier. he dwelled on it for longer than he should’ve. 

he dwelled on it for another three hours and then his phone rang. he picked it up without looking at the caller id. “hello?” he answered.

“jun, are you okay? you hung up so abruptly back there. i just got back home,” you asked, you sounded concerned. 

“do you still want to be with me?” 

“what - yes. why would you ask?” you sputtered. never once did you have a doubt in your relationship with jun. you understood that it was hard, with him being away and all, but you would always be around to wait for him. “i don’t want to make you feel like you’re waiting for nothing. i leave for weeks, come back for one, and leave for three more,” he sighed. “i don’t want to weigh you down.” 

“do you think a little distance is going to break us, jun?” you chuckled.

“i don’t know! just either be there when i get home or tell me you can’t wait around any longer,” he cried. it was disheartening to hear him like this. you never wanted anything more than him. the type of love you had with jun was beautiful and it would cross seas if necessary. 

“i’ll be here for as long as you want me, jun. now, come home quickly. i miss you.” 

kwon soonyoung “you only call me on the weekend. you only love me when we freakin'” - the weekend by bibi

you were trying to slip out unnoticed. soonyoung had passed out essentially right after the two of you cleaned up. he had insisted that you should stay the night. you tried to refuse, but the way he looked so tired and sweet when he basically begged you to lie down in his arms. 

and you were weak, so you did.

except, when he fell asleep in the crook of your neck you were still wide awake. you heard his phone going off and being nosy you looked to see notification after notification from his other hookups, and you were suddenly reminded why you were in the first place. you needed to leave.

 you tried your best to maneuver your way out of his grasp. you were slipping on your socks when he stirred. “where are you going?” his voice worn.

“i have an early day tomorrow, i need to get back to my place,” you lied.

“liar.”

“excuse me?” how in the world could he possibly call you on something when he was half asleep?

“you’re running. just stay the night. it can’t hurt.” oh, but it could. the question was: would it hurt more to tell him or to just keep the arrangement as is? before you could weigh your options, your mouth had already taken over. “it would hurt,” you said. “it already hurts.”

“what hurts? did i- did i do something wrong?” he asked, sitting up suddenly interested. you knew what he was thinking. “not in the way you’re thinking, soonyoung,” you smiled. “it hurts because throughout this whole agreement i accidentally caught feelings for you and it fucking sucks. because while you’re out hooking up with other people, i can’t even bring myself to hookup with another person because i think you’ve ruined me.”

“___-” he began, he looked apprehensive.

“i know. i know this wasn’t what we agreed on, and i know you’re not looking for anything right now. i just like you so much, and every time i look at you, i just wonder why you can’t just like me back. i’ll just go. i can’t do this anymore, soonyoung. i’m sorry.” you sighed.

“i am too,” he replied quietly, and he genuinely was. 

jeon wonwoo “one day i will stop falling in love with you. some day someone will like me like i like you” -  let you break my heart again by laufey

you often borrowed wonwoo’s things. from hats to jackets to random necklaces you found around his apartment, everything was fair game. sometimes you would forget to return them and wear them out. wonwoo never complained or tried to steal the clothes back from you. he liked them better on you anyway.

one day his friends noticed. it was just a house party where you had been teasing wonwoo all night about his less than average kart rider skills. you had taken his glasses off and placed them on your nose. “look at me i’m wonwoo and i suck at kart rider,” you imitated his voice puffing out your chest and bumping into his shoulder. 

“hey, i need those,” he chuckled, squinting at the tv in front of him. 

“yeah, yeah, i know. they look better on you anyway,” you grumbled, delicately placing the glasses back on his nose. “i’m going to get a drink, you want anything?” he shook his head, and you got up.

“wonwoo, isn’t that your coat?” mingyu casually asked as he sat down next to wonwoo on the couch. wonwoo didn’t even really process what mingyu was asking, but answered, “oh, the one ___’s wearing? yeah.”

“so, does this mean you two are finally together?” mingyu pressed. 

“uh, no. it just means i like sharing.”

“just like how you like sharing your glasses,” mingyu scoffed. “bullshit.”

mingyu got up and walked over to where you were chatting with some of your friends. wonwoo wanted to act like he was paying attention to seungcheol absolutely demolishing him and chan at kart rider, but he was only focused on you. 

he knew he didn’t stand a chance against the other guys you had been going out with for the past few months. he knew that you were probably better off with a guy like mingyu or something, and when he saw you chatting with mingyu he knew he couldn’t even begin to compete. in your eyes, he was just your cute best friend that did you favors all the time.

“you know, i think you should really un-friendzone wonwoo,” your friend giggled.

“i agree,” mingyu piped in.

“please, wonwoo’s just my friend,” you chuckled, glancing over at the dark haired man sitting on the couch. “plus, i already have a date this weekend.”

it was true. you did have a date lined up. it was about the fourth new guy this month. none of the people you’ve been meeting had actually clicked after the first date. which was a bit disheartening since you’ve been trying to date for a while. 

the only constant in your life was wonwoo. he’s been with you since high school, and the two of you quickly rented an apartment together when you two decided to attend the same college. it was a nice set up, and you appreciated his companionship. he was there for every high and low of life, and didn’t complain if you were a mess most of the time. he was just there. a great friend.

as wonwoo and you walked home, he admired the way you looked at everything around you. the stars in the sky or the flowers that lined the windows of some apartments. it was comfortable with you. “you have a date later this weekend?” he asked quietly. you hummed in response. 

you were a little too busy watching your surroundings to see wonwoo’s face fall a bit. he would watch you go off on these dates every so often, and nothing came to fruition for most of them. if they did, they were quite short lived. although it broke his heart every time you overlooked his hinting gestures, he would always be there to help you get ready and pick up any broken pieces. he’d be there at your door with a cup of coffee for you in the morning or he’d give you the space you needed if you asked. whatever you asked of him, he would do because he’d let you break his heart as many times as you wanted and he’d still come back. after all, he was your best friend. 

he just wished that someday he would finally leave the feelings he harbored for you behind, and he could find someone who loved him the same way that he loved you. even if it wasn’t you.

lee jihoon “feels like we had matching wounds, but mine's still black and bruised and yours is perfectly fine now” - the exit by conan gray

jihoon was jihoon. you were you. there wasn’t any way around it. you had met him at a bad time, that’s all you could say about it. it probably wasn’t the best idea to start hanging out as much as you did. you knew that, and so did he. yet, you two did, and it was nice while it lasted.

“i just thought- i just thought we could continue seeing each other,” you grumbled. you weren’t sure what you were expecting out of jihoon. he was always a bit, emotionally reserved. 

“i mean, why would we?” he asked, blinking slowly at you. of course he would ask that. “you didn’t think we were actually like dating, right?” he asked. 

well no. 

you and jihoon had established a mutual distaste towards labels, but now you regretted not putting one on what you had with jihoon. “i mean, i didn’t. i just thought-” you trailed off. what did you think? that maybe by the time he figured out his shit, you would have figured yours out too. or maybe that he would’ve noticed your growing feelings towards him. 

“look, ___. you have been a greater help than i could’ve ever asked for. i was, well you know, just out of a long term relationship that ended well, badly. you were with me through every step of the healing process, and i will forever be grateful for you,” he said, taking a step closer to you.

“yeah, you- you really helped me too,” you mumbled, you couldn’t help the tears that were forming in your eyes.

“___? why are you crying?” he asked.

“no reason, jihoon,” you sniffed. there was a perfectly good reason why you crying, it was just a bit too embarrassing to tell him when he obviously didn’t reciprocate your feelings. maybe you got attached to jihoon to easily, someone who was obviously emotionally unavailable. maybe you had a type. 

things had ended badly with your ex, and you feared that things would end horribly with jihoon before they could even begin. 

maybe he would say you were too clingy, too needy, too this that and the other thing. was wanting to be loved such a bad thing?

all you really wanted was for him to notice you, but it appeared as though he was too focused on healing himself that he had left you behind without as much as a band-aid. 

lee seokmin “and though it's fading with time, i remember the warm nights with love in your eyes. passing the days, watching rains as it dries, staring at your eyes i know it's the time” - less and less by matt maltese 

a ball of sunshine. that’s how you described lee seokmin. you always grabbed his face in your hands and just looked at him, and he’d let you. then he’d giggle or something and you’d smile while you memorized every aspect of his face. 

but now, but now, he couldn’t even look you in the eye, not after he heard that you didn’t really care to see him anymore. it was weird to overhear from one of his friends who still kept in touch with you. apparently he would be too much of a distraction or something to that effect. he knew the chances of reconciliation were already slim, but just knowing you didn’t really want to see him at all hurt. it wasn’t necessarily a bad or messy break up either.

a mutual friend of the two of you had just gotten engaged, and they were having a celebratory dinner. seokmin had the feeling that you were going to be there, but he couldn’t skip out on this just because his ex would be there. that would be - sad.

you were chatting casually with one of the other dinner guests, and you looked as beautiful as ever. “seokmin? are you even listening to me?” soonyoung whined next to him.

“you’re drunk, soonyoung. i probably shouldn’t listen to anything you say,” seokmin chuckled, pushing on his obviously drunk friend. soonyoung whined and threw his head back against the wall that was behind his chair. “___ looks nice tonight,” he commented. seokmin nodded in agreement. 

he stole another glance at you, and that was when he met your eyes. god, those eyes. the same kind ones that he looked into every night before you said your goodnights and i love yous. you offered him a small smile and he reciprocated it as best as he could without it hurting his chest too much. 

he found himself stealing glances at you when you didn’t even bother to look over. he wished he could sit next to you and hold your hand. kiss your cheek like he used to. should he profess his undying love for you even though you had broken his heart over six months ago? would that be appropriate?

by the end of the dinner, seokmin had slung soonyoung over his shoulder and was bringing him out to his car parked nearby the restaurant. “seokmin, why don’t you ask ___ out again?” he grumbled as seokmin dragged him into the passenger seat. the smell of alcohol reeked on his breath as seokmin buckled his pouting friend in. soonyoung continued, “you two were so good together. so cute. you were so down bad for ___.” seokmin sighed. he knew that already. 

he looked at you like you hung the moon, and he genuinely believed that you did. your soft kisses on his cheeks and warm hands around his were nice, but they weren’t enough. as much as he wanted them to be, they just couldn’t be enough. 

“seokmin?” he heard your familiar voice float into his ears and shot up instantly, hitting his head on his car as he tried to escape the clutches of soonyoung. “oh, are you okay?” you giggled. 

“yeah,” he said, standing upright and rubbing the back of his head. and there the two of you stood in silence. oddly enough, it wasn’t as awkward as he thought it was going to be. there was a dull pain in his chest when he looked at you. “look, i just wanted to say it was nice seeing you tonight,” you said. his heart soared, but the pain hurt. “it was nice seeing you too,” was all he seemed to muster before he turned around to check on soonyoung. 

you must’ve thought he was trying to get out of the conversation because the next words you said sounded rushed. “i want you to know that i don’t hate you,” you said.

he froze. 

“i mean, i know you heard about what i said about not wanting to see you. that’s not what i meant,” you sighed. 

he nodded dumbly.

“i just- i know we didn’t end things badly at all. it was actually quite nice. i said that after we broke up and i was still a bit upset, i guess. i thought that if i saw you, i would just hurt all over again. i just wanted to stop hurting. i should’ve considered that you might hear about it and misunderstand, and i’m sorry about that.”

silence.

“i’ll always want you in my life, seokmin.”

“i’ll always want you in mine too,” he finally said, and he felt like he truly meant it. he knew that he wouldn’t be in your life like the two of you had planned, but just hearing that you wanted him - needed him - to just be there was enough. 

he had all those times that you looked at him with such love and affection that he didn’t care how he was in your life. he just needed to be in it. he had the memories how you kissed him. how you hummed songs while lounging around the house. how you would wrap your arms around him while he was cooking. how you held his hand when your car broke down in the rain.

you would remember the way he just admired you at a distance. how he cried when he forgot to water your plant when you left town for a trip. how he brought you flowers when he knew the ones you had were dying. how he sang in the shower. how he laughed at all of your jokes. how he grabbed your hand and kissed it just because. 

now you stood so close to him, but so far. he wanted to hold you close to him, feel your hands on his face, hear your laugh, kiss your lips, anything and everything. all it would take would be a couple of strides and he would be close enough to smell the perfume you put on for the evening.

but something in him kept him from doing that. he looked at you. the look in your eyes wasn’t the same as when the two of you were together. something else was there. admiration, respect, unconditional love. something in your eyes told him it was time to let you go. he would always remember you and all the moments you shared, but he needed to let go of what he had. let it fade until all that remained was the dull ache in his heart. 

“i’ve missed you, ___,” he said meeting your gaze. 

you smiled, “i’ve missed you too. please don’t be a stranger.”

“i won’t.”

the pain in his chest was still there as he watched you leave, but he supposed that it would always be there.

kim mingyu so i can't love you even though i do 밀어내 봐도 난 너를 못이겨 “so i can't love you, even though i do. i try to push you away but i can't beat you” - invu by taeyeon

this was wrong. he knew it. you knew it. he was on a first date with mutual of one of his friends, and he only agreed because he needed to get his mind off of everything, off of you. it should be easy, nice laid back dinner date. it had been a while since he had been on first date, but he couldn’t be that bad at this whole first date thing.

apparently he was pretty bad at it. 

“mingyu,” you gasped, as he grabbed onto your waist. “where are you taking me?” he didn’t say a word. something in his blood boiled when he saw you sitting with your friends at the same restaurant he was at. he quickly excused himself from the table and made his way to your table. your table was conveniently located on the way to the bathroom. he turned his head to make sure his date wasn’t looking, luckily his date’s chair was facing the other way, so he could get away with snatching you away from your friends.

you barely had time to process what had happened. you sensed someone rushing toward you, but you figured it was just a waiter. suddenly you were pulled out of your seat and there was a familiar arm wrapped around your waist. “mingyu, what are you doing?” you demanded as he pulled you into the single-bathroom and locked the door. “i was having dinner with my friends.”

“and i was having dinner with a date, but here we are,” he scoffed.

“you’re on a date, and you dragged me in here!” you yelled. “mingyu, you’re unbelievable. you should be on your date. this is incredibly rude of-” 

“do you miss me?” 

“what?”

“do you miss me?”

“not in the way you want me to.”

that seemed to do it for him. he pressed you against the bathroom wall and kissed you in the way that took your breath away. “mingyu,” you gasped in between his kisses. you felt the way he was holding onto you, it was pure need. “mingyu, we- we can’t. your date,” you breathed as your hands found purchase on his shoulders.

“fuck my date. i’m only on that date to stop thinking about you,” he admitted.

“mingyu-” you began to pull away from him.

“stop calling me that,” he pulled away and looked you dead in the eye.

“what? your name? it’s your name, mingyu. what else am i supposed to call you?”

“please, ___. you know.” it sounded pathetic and you practically melted. “gyu,” you caved. he didn’t realize how much he missed you until this moment. well, he had been missing you since the two of you parted ways several months ago, but now that he had you so close to him, that he had just kissed you, he missed you more than ever. you were so close. he could just go back to kissing you. he really wanted to go back to kissing you. 

you don’t know how you could let this happen. mingyu was always very nice to you. he was sweet, caring, attentive, all the things you could want in a boyfriend, but you just weren’t ready for the type of commitment you knew he craved. 

he wanted to move in, settle down, get married, live life. it was all too real to you, so you ran.

sure it hurt to break up with him. to tell him that you didn’t want to move that fast, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever marry at all. it was all just too confusing. but now, that you were here with him, you knew that you had made a mistake.

but you had missed your chance.

he tried to move back in to kiss you again.

“gyu, stop,” you whispered. he did, but he didn’t back away. “go back to your date, gyu,” you sighed. “it isn’t fair to your date. it isn’t fair to you.”

“what do you mean, ___? i want you. i’ve only ever wanted you,” he complained, he couldn’t let you leave again. “i’ll wait for you, for as long as it takes for you to realize that it’ll always be you. that you’re the only one for me,” he rushed.

“don’t say that stuff, gyu,” you smiled at him resting your palm on his cheek. “i missed my chance with you. you deserve someone who will appreciate you from the start. you don’t deserve someone who makes you wait around.” 

and with that, you pulled away from him, took a quick glance in the mirror and fixed your hair, and left.

and he had no choice but to let you. 

xu minghao “oh, simple thing, where have you gone? i'm getting old, and i need something to rely on. so, tell me when you're gonna let me in. i'm getting tired, and i need somewhere to begin” - somewhere only we know by keane

“what do you want?” you asked, leaning against your door. 

“can i, uh, get some books that i left here?” minghao asked not meeting your gaze. you squinted your eyes at him. this was so not minghao behavior. even though the two of you stopped hooking up a couple months ago there was still some sort of tension that made you want to claw your hair out. “yeah, i have work soon, so, uh, make it quick,” you mumbled, moving out of the way of the door. he nodded and quickly brushed past you. 

your apartment was small and you knew what books he was looking for. they had been sitting on your coffee table for the past months. it wasn’t like you took time to read all five of them in his absence. it wasn’t like you ranked them by how much you thought he would like them. it wasn’t like you knew the book with the green cover would be his least favorite. but you knew you were never going to tell him that. 

you picked up the stack of books and handed them to him. he took them and glanced around your apartment. he noticed that the painting the two of you made together as a joke was still hanging out by the window, and he couldn’t help be smile at that. 

now there the two of you stood. saying nothing. being with minhao was always quiet, but never this type of quiet. this was stale and somewhat raw, you missed the times of soft comfortable silence. 

“well, thank you for holding on to these,” he finally said.

“of course, i mean i’m not a monster who throws away books,” you chuckled. he laughed. you loved it when he laughed, especially since it took you ages to get him to stop stifling it around you. 

“before i go, ___, i just need you to know that i don’t regret the things we had, and i don’t regret how things ended. i just need to know why.”

if you thought the air was stale before, you were not prepared for that. “i- i swear it has nothing to do with you,” you said. all he did was nod. “i don’t know,” you resigned yourself. 

“yes, you do,” he shrugged. you stared at him, dumbfounded. yes you knew, but you were barely ready to admit it to yourself, how were you supposed to admit it to him? 

“i understand that you’re lost, i am too. maybe you can’t tell me right now for whatever reason, maybe you don’t even know yourself, but i can’t stand not being around you,” he said finally.

you just looked at him. he wanted to be around you? after you broke up with him? he still wanted to be around you. 

“look, i know it’s weird, but i’ve spent a lot of my time with you. i’ve genuinely enjoyed all the things we’ve done together, and i’m just at a loss for what to do. you were a huge part of my life and now that we’re not together i-” he rambled

“don’t know where to start again,” you finished for him. his eyes flickered between you and the ground. 

you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same. leaving minghao had left some sort of void in your life that you weren’t prepared for. he had been a huge part of your life and then he was just gone. “i guess we could try to be friends again,” you suggested. “just to start again.”

he nodded.

deep down you knew you couldn’t just be friends with him, and he knew that too. yet, he agreed. he needed somewhere to begin again, and you did too. so like you always did, you would always come running back to each other even if it meant leaving each other for good in the future.

“hey, hao,” you called after him. he turned on his heel and looked at you expectantly. “don’t read the book with the green cover. you won’t like it,” you warned. he glanced down at the books he was carrying and back up at you. “noted,” he smiled. “i guess you’ll have to recommend me a different one next time.”

boo seungkwan “if i were a mountain, i'd stand my ground, and maybe i'd never listen. but if i were a mountain, i'd close my mouth and maybe i'd be forgiving” - i’m not a mountain by sarah kinsley

seungkwan tried. he tried his hardest. he gave his everything in every aspect of his life. he gave his all to you, yet for some reason it wasn’t enough. sure, he knew this wasn’t an official thing, but he still treated it as though it was.

“i just- i don’t understand,” he stammered. the look in your eyes was not one of malice or hatred, just sorrow. “i’m moving, kwan,” you sighed. “i can’t- i can’t make you wait for me. we can hardly make it when you make your trips.” 

that was true. he needed you like oxygen and his job wasn’t necessarily very forgiving towards the health of his... friendships. “don’t you think we can work it out?” he questioned. “is everything we’ve done together mean nothing?”

“that’s the thing! everything we’ve done means everything to me,” you cried. “please just let me go. maybe if we meet again, it’ll be meant to be.”

he paused. 

it meant everything? did that mean...

“i can’t just let you go. we are meant to be. us, here. right now. this is right. why can’t you see that?” 

from his perspective, it was his fault.

did he not show you enough love? did he not text or call enough when he was away? was he not a nice enough friend for you to stay?

 if he was stronger he would’ve stopped you, even though he knew you were right. some people say that couples who are meant to be together can last the test of time and distance, but that was the issue. you and seungkwan were meant to be together, physically, mentally, emotionally.

“seungkwan, please just - i’m sorry. i can’t play this game anymore.”

“then let’s stop playing, i’ll give you everything!”

“but i can’t give you everything.”

that would be fine, as long as you’re with me, he thought.

“i’m sorry, seungkwan. i- do like you, a lot. more than i should. and it isn’t fair to you to wait for someone like me who can’t love you in the way you deserve,” you sighed, making your way to the door.

if seungkwan was stronger, he would kiss you. he would hold you in his arms and tell you that you are the only person he’ll ever need or want. he would tell you that he loves you. he would ignore the things you said about leaving and make you stay. make you see that you were his world. 

if seungkwan was stronger, he would stand there and forgive you for all the times you couldn’t give him your all. he would forgive you for ghosting him occasionally. he would forgive you for breaking his heart. 

but seungkwan, wasn’t strong enough to do that. he was upset that you could walk away. he was upset that you were crying about this. he was upset that he couldn’t do anything about it. his facade was in shambles, and his world was crumbling around him. 

instead of standing up and protesting anymore, he shut his mouth and bowed his head. tears were dotting the floor as he heard you make your way to the door. “i’m sorry, seungkwan. i love you,” you whispered.

he heard.

“i love you too,” he said as the door clicked shut.

choi vernon 어느 날 우연히 마주치면그건 우연이 아닐지 몰라 “if we meet by chance one day, maybe it’s not a coincidence” - one day by chance by ailee

“you have to meet him!” your friend giggled. “he’s so your type!”

“type? and what would that be exactly?” you entertained the notion. 

“im not sure, but he’s for sure your type!” you rolled your eyes. you hadn’t dated anyone since high school, and even then it wasn’t that serious. “and what if he isn’t my so-called type?” you questioned.

“then you get to hang out with me at an awesome party,” she stated.

you didn’t even like going to parties, but you only went to entertain her (and to be her ride home). when you finally arrived at the party she slipped way saying that she was off to find the guy. you sighed and made your way the kitchen to find the bottled water. it was most likely going to be a long night and you were-

“oh hey, sorry,” the guy you just bumped shoulders with apologized instantly.  

“no worries, i wasn’t watching-” you paused. “- where i was going.”

“___.”

“vernon.” 

“there you are! oh! look you found him before i did!” your friend exclaimed a cup already in her hand. 

right. this was the only person in high school that you had a relationship with and thought it was mildly serious. “you were looking for me?” he cocked an eyebrow at you.

“no.”

“yes! i think ___ is just your type!” you friend practically screeched. 

“is that so?”

“i’m afraid not. i’ll be outside,” you grumbled to your now confused friend as you walked out the back door. you heard your friend calling after you, but you couldn’t be bothered. it wasn’t like you held a grudge towards vernon, but he was the first guy to break your heart. you knew it was just a stupid high school relationship, but there was something about him. something that was so charmingly awkward that you couldn’t help but enjoy his lame jokes and not as lame music tastes. you didn’t even announce to your friends that you were dating, you didn’t really announce it to yourselves either. it just started. and it just sort of ended. maybe the reason it hurt so much to see him here was simply because there wasn’t any screaming or crying or fighting when it all ended. just zero effort or care was behind the ending.

then something just happened and the two of you just stopped hanging out as much. you knew you couldn’t completely blame it on him. he started hanging out with a different crowd, as did you. and suddenly, it wasn’t. the breakup was as quiet as the get together. but it didn’t hurt any less to see him with his arm around someone else at lunch. 

after high school you tried your best to move as far away from your hometown. you largely succeeded. new friends, new places, new experiences. you had it all while avoiding any contact from your previous life. but there was always that thought lurking in the back of your mind about what could’ve been. 

it was just a stupid high school thing. then why was your heart beating so much?

you were too lost in thought to notice that vernon had joined you on the porch. “long time no see,” he said, taking a drink from his cup. you scoffed, but not so much in an unfriendly way. just a “that was such a you thing to say” scoff. he laughed taking a sip of his drink. and there you sat in silence. it was comfortable until it wasn’t. 

“why’d we stop talking,” you asked suddenly. he shrugged. “not an answer, vernon,” you groaned. 

“we grew a part, i guess.” the conversation topic obviously irked him. it was weird, because you had dreamt of this moment for as long as you could remember. reuniting with your high school boyfriend. it seemed far fetched, yet here you were. you were never one to believe in that metaphysical stuff, but maybe this meant something. maybe this was the universe saying something. no. it couldn’t. it was too good to be true. 

“did you feel anything for me? i mean, back then at least,” you asked finally. 

“yes,” he said, with a sort of certainty that scared you. 

“okay, good.” you turned and you were about to go back inside as you muttered to yourself, “at least now i can move on.”

“what if i don’t want you to?” he called.

“excuse me?” you turned on your heel to stare at him.

“what if i don’t want you to move on?” he repeated. 

“then you should’ve tried.”

lee chan “got to get it in my head, i'll never be 16 again. i'm waiting to live, and waiting to love” - when by dodie

some things never lasted, and that was a tough pill to swallow. an especially tough one for chan. he moved away, but he had his phone and your number (and address if he needed to resort to letters). there shouldn’t have been a problem. he promised he’d call or text at least once a day, as did you.

and for a while. it worked. things were just the same as they were. almost as if he had never even left. 

yet as time passed, he wasn’t expecting to be so busy with his new neighborhood, school, and friends. so, he forgot to text and call quite often actually. just sporadic texts for holidays, funny things, “hellos” and “goodnights.” nothing like what you two were like before. and soon, that became the new normal - for the next four years. 

that is until one day when he suddenly remembered the deal the two of you had. he felt guilty. every day turned into every two weeks to once every month, and even less frequent than that. he had promised you the bare minimum, after all, you two were best friends. 

however, when he looked at your contact and messages, he realized that you never reached out that much either. just the same “happy winter break!” or “aren’t you so glad summer break is here?” or “we should visit each other soon.” those plans never came to be. 

maybe if he had just told you how he felt before he left, the remnants of your relationship wouldn’t be in such shambles. you would have a reason to text and call him. you would have a reason to come and see him and vice versa. except, he didn’t. you two were better off as friends anyway.

and he thoroughly believed that himself. he really believed it when it was the summer and he wanted to visit his grandparents who happened to live a little outside your childhood town. he still loved you even if he couldn’t call you every day to show it. who knows, maybe he could pass through, see you, and finally get to tell you how he felt after all these years. just because you guys didn’t talk as much didn’t mean things would be awkward or weird, right? and it definitely wouldn’t be weird if he just confessed his feelings he had been harboring for you since the seventh grade, right? the feelings he concealed and tucked away just in case you didn’t feel the same. the feelings he didn’t want to risk a friendship over. the feelings that still made him dream of you. 

so as he drove through his small hometown he parked along the street where the two of you would walk and window shop. he got out and strolled around greeting some of the older store owners who “oohed” and “ahhed” at him. he was finishing up his conversation with the baker when he heard it. 

the undeniable sound of sunshine. the laugh he grew accustomed to throughout your entire elementary and middle school years. he bid farewell, and went searching for it. he walked down the street and looked for it, for you. then he came to the end of the sidewalk and saw you. you were sitting on a bench with some ice cream. you looked beautiful. your eyes bright and smile wide. so bright and wide that he almost missed the guy who was wrapping you up in his arms and kissing your forehead. 

oh. 

so things did change. chan didn’t recognize the guy, but he knew this guy was more than a friend. his heart was sinking to the bottom of his stomach. and it sunk even further when he realize he needed to walk right by you to get to his car. 

shit. 

just tear off the band-aid fast. maybe you wouldn’t recognize him. maybe you would be too immersed in the conversation you were having the guy to notice. he didn’t know what he would say to you. confessing wasn’t exactly appropriate now, not that it ever was. would he be awkward? oh please don’t be awkward, he pleaded with himself. 

so he just went. he just walked. looked around at his surroundings. acted nonchalant. he was the closest to you he’d been in years, and he couldn’t even bring himself to wave at you, let alone look you in the eye. he ducked his head when he got closer to passing the bench where you sat. he kept his eyes to the ground and successfully made it past your table. there was approximately five beats of his heart when it dropped again. “chan? is that you?” you called after him, he heard you get up from the bench. he looked over his shoulder slightly, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully turn around. you stood in the middle of the sidewalk, ice cream melting down your hand, and your presumed boyfriend staying off to the side. he turned back around to keep walking to his car. “god, chan!” you shouted. “get back here! why didn’t you tell me you were going to be in town?”

“sorry, i- i have to get to my grandparents’ place by dinner. it was nice running into you, ___,” he mumbled, blinking his eyes to stop the tears from falling. 

“chan, come on, it’ll be quick.” you were getting closer to him. he couldn’t let that happen.

“no, ___. i can’t. i have to go.” i don’t know what i was thinking. “i’m sorry. just text me or something.” 

he really should’ve told you how he felt when he was sixteen.

min | mmmm sad foolish people in love.... i wanted to do one with ceilings but i already did doomsday so i didn’t want to go overboard with lizzy... it’s been a while since i wrote angst ALKDJ leave so feedback in the comments or in the tags (they’re all greatly appreciated) not proofread 

[tapwater118]

pinned post jumpscare blauughh

pronouns.cc | strawpage

hiya i’m flower!

i'm plural i think. i (the host) also go by golf ball, GB, gaty, maddie, tap water, tap, captain coinpin (<- silly), etc. queer person on the internet with too many names, check

collectively tap/tap water, she/they, 21 y.o. (individual names/pronouns can be found in the pronouns.cc)

fictkin with a bunch of weird blorbos (if you couldn’t tell from the first part)

i like various things and then will proceed to draw them. big fat bfdi/osc special interest mostly (i am a huge multishipper (based) btw so erm yeah)

feel free to use my art and such as pfps/banners/whatever, just give credit pls

let the record show that i am bad at using social media so uh i am probably a terrible mutual sorry in advance

also if i like over explain something to you please do not take it as a slight against you, i am just autistic (as if it wasn’t obvious)

if ya wanna know more, feel free to shoot up the ask box or dms, i love answering questions. i also like taking requests over asks! just note that it may be some time before i get around to your request

(regarding dms, please come in with something more than ‘hi’. i’m not comfortable initiating conversation with someone im not familiar with.)

(also don’t flirt with me. you don’t have a rat’s chance)

dunno where else to put this but all the stuff you send to my strawpage is posted on @taps-strawpage-sillies so look there!

things you’ll probably see me blabber about/draw at some point:

object shows (particularly bfdi, but i also fw inanimate insanity, hfjone, boto, animatic battle, team room 125, orb, burner, object kerfuffle, love of the s*n, ppt2, itft, and others im probably forgetting) (oh and idfb fear garden tee hee)

mario

kirby

pikmin

undertale/deltarune

pizza tower

fnf

homestuck

fnaf

petscop

horror stuff in general

regretevator

to be expanded once i remember more stuff

(art may be suggestively crude in humor but never nsfw)

(also if you ask i can always add tags to stuff if you have something in particular you want to mute, i dont mind)

i am working on some cool projects i think you should check them out because they are cool:

Occasionally Coinpin: hosted over at @occasionallycoinpin. posting coinpin, occasionally (the main reason you don’t see coinpin content here all that often)

Book Askblog: hosted at @twotonedhardcover, where i pretend to be a gay little novel for shits and giggles

Battle for Hopes and Dreams: a bfdi x undertale au that puts the characters of bfdi in the world of undertale. tagged as “#battle for hopes and dreams”

Competition for Fantasy Retreat: a bfdi swap au that swaps characters’ compositions and parts of their personalities. tagged as “#competition for fantasy retreat”

BfDI 1990: an unfiction reimagining of bfdi as an NES game from 1990. tagged as “#BfDI1990” (unreality content warning for this). please note that this is NOT an ARG, there is no game or puzzle to be solved, it is simply unfiction

Tap’s BFDI D-Side: a bfdi d-side take, where characters’ designs and personalities are remixed for something new and refreshing! (based on fnf d-sides obviously) tagged as “#tap’s bfdi d side”

BFDI Redux: a hypothetical bfdi season 6, featuring many of the tpot rejects as well as underutilized veterans. tagged as “#bfdi redux”

OSC horror content: i like turning the silly blorbos into fucked up evil creatures. general tag is “#FLApasta” but each story has its own separate tag (general content warning for these)

other tags i’ll use frequently i think:

“#asks” all the crud that ends up in my inbox and also some very nice things. it is a mystery

“#yap fest” for general inane ramblings. i say some very stupid things

“#ultra yap fest” for long posts, including rants and character analyses

“#slop tier post” art and other things that are generally below a certain threshold of quality i hold for myself. i’m probably too harsh on myself but oh well

“#word salad yummy yummy” fanfic stuff. im on ao3 and wattpad if ya didnt know

“#top tier post” “#all the day every day” “#one for the ages” posts that i really really like. usually from moots

“#literally me” fictkin id posts. you get it. no you don’t. i don't get it either

“#oiny” wife

[talaok]

I’ve dreamed of this (pt. II)

Summary: You are a part of the BAU, and for the longest time you and Dr. Spencer Reid had been best of friends, even when it was clear to everyone else, and at times to you, that you should be more than that, and when something almost happens on a night out with the team, everything is destined to change. This is a double pov story (each chapter will be alternated between y/n's and spencer's pov)

Chapter summary:  Spencer is overthinking what happened last night

warnings: none

a/n: In case you didn't get it, I was sad while writing this. if you want to be added to the tag-list comment or write to me.

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Spencer

The painful light shined on his face, making him groan. He gripped the cover and threw it over his head, turning his back to the window. He had just fallen asleep, how dared the sun ruin that moment? How dared the curtains not protect him? He had gotten home and taken off his cardigan just to crawl into bed with his shirt, pants, and socks still on. he was tired, he remembered having thought about crying, but then again, he had nothing to cry about. Nothing had happened. And that was it. Nothing had happened at all. For the first time in his life, he thought he had a chance, for the first time in his lonely and sad existence he had thought things were finally going his way. But no. Emily opened that stupid door, and she had moved away, like everyone always did. And maybe they were right, maybe it was best if they stayed away. He always seemed to make things worse anyway. He remembered her face when he looked at her. The fear and regret so incredibly clear in her eyes, and he remembered her words.  "we were drunk" she had said, but that wasn't true. He had drank two sips of whiskey just to hate it and give it to Rossi, and he spent the rest of the night drinking coke. And Y/n, she had had to drink, but she wasn't drunk, he had seen her drunk, had seen her stumbling cutely on every surface she could find, and had heard her slurred monologues about the meaning in life, so he knew, with a certainty only someone who knew her that well could have, that she wasn't drunk. She had simply realized the huge mistake she had just made. Leading him on when she knew she didn't feel the same. And she had come up with that excuse. But he knew. He knew what she really meant. And so he had run away, leaving her before she could do the same to him. As spencer sighed into his pillow he wished it had all been a dream, a very lucid nightmare where he and the woman he's been in love with for four years, the same one who could ask him to jump off a building and would have him comply in a second, almost kissed, and that he didn't run away. Saying that Spencer felt like shit was an understatement. he had no idea how to face the day, had no idea how he was gonna have to behave with y/n. Nothing had happened, they were friends, just like they had always been, but he feared, for the first time since he'd met her, that this was the last straw, that after yesterday, he wasn't gonna be able to pretend anymore, to act like she hadn't been the sole reason he woke up in the morning for the past four years. But the alarm rang nonetheless, uncaring of his state, and of his frustrated groan as he pushed it off the nightstand.

_  _  _

"hey there pretty boy" Derek's voice resonated through Spencer's ears as he was pouring himself his third cup of coffee of the morning. "good morning" he answered weakly "Wow, what's that tone?" he smiled "too much partying last night?" Spencer wanted to run away, fly through the doors and down the stairs until he was out of the office. He knew he would have had to have this conversation, he had actually prepared himself for it the whole morning, but still, it hadn't worked, he still wished to disappear. Spencer forced himself to chuckle "nope, I'm just tired" "I bet" Derek said suggestively, filling his own mug "You and y/n had a lot of fun, huh?" he shouldered him jokingly and Spencer felt like he was gonna puke. just the mention of her name made him physically hurt, he didn't want to even think about what was gonna happen when she was gonna walk through that door. "Y-yeah" he said thinly, looking at his mug. "yeah come on" he chuckled, lightly punching his shoulder "then why are you so down?" he asked "I mean, from what I saw you seemed pretty happy about what was going on" he kept going " you didn't look like you minded being so close to her" Spencer sighed deeply, looking quickly around the room. "No, I-i didn't" he said truthfully. Of course, he didn't. Fuck, that was all he wanted. Every time she touched him he felt like he had just been blessed. He had to start hugging people just so that it wouldn't have been weird when he hugged her. He continuously made up excuses to be close to her, and went against every germophobe rule he had made for himself when it was about her. So, of course, he didn't mind it, that's the problem, he lived for it. "Then what's wrong?" Derek asked, more worried now "Did something happen?" Oh, how wrong you are, spencer thought. "No, it's fine" Spencer shook his head "I'm fine" "hey" Derek placed a hand on his shoulder "you can tell me kid " he tilted his head, trying to look him in the eyes "I wanna help" "It's-It's nothing really" he said, turning away to get out. "Spencer" Morgan's voice was low, steeped with that tone he only used with Reid, when he blocked him out, not accepting the help he needed, the help he deserved. "please talk to me" "It's stupid Derek, don't worry" Spencer turned around "I don't care" he said, stepping closer to him "I don't care if it's the stupidest thing that I'll ever hear" he put a hand on his shoulder "just - let me help you" "derek" he finally looked at him "It's nothing" Morgan sighed, sometimes Spencer was difficult, he had learned it a long time ago. He had every reason to be, but Derek felt that no matter how hard it was to get him to trust you, it was worth it, he was worth it. "What happened Spencer?" he asked again, and this time Reid sighed, looking to the ground before finding Derek's eyes. "that's the problem" his lips twitched into a sad smile "nothing happened" "hm?" Morgan frowned "I wanted it to but-" he shook his head "but-" "oh there you are" JJ opened the door "I've been looking for you all over the place" she smiled "we've got a new case" she gestured to the file she was holding "Alright, we'll be right there, thanks" Derek told her "ok" she said, quickly glancing between the two men, noticing just now the weird atmosphere of the room. She furrowed her brows at Morgan, silently asking him if there was something wrong, and when he shook his head she spoke " I'll call the others then" before getting out, closing the door behind her. "what do you mean you wanted t-" "we have to go" Spencer interrupted him, not leaving him enough time to protest before fleeing the room. He knew it was wrong, he hated this part of him, the part that blocked everyone out, creating a barrier where one wasn't needed. he hated this need of his to not trust anyone and to never ask for help, or advice, or anything really. He hated all of it, but as much as he wished to change it, for as many times as he tried, he found he couldn't, he always remained him, his old, barricaded self, that not only hurt himself, but others too. And there was no point in fighting it.

_  _  _

"good morning" Spencer forced a smile as he entered the conference room, everyone was already there, and they all greeted him. He felt like everyone was watching him, he didn't know how, but everyone knew, everyone somehow already knew. He tried to not look anybody in the eyes as he sat down in his usual chair. It creaked under his weight as he rested his back on it. Derek entered just moments after, and even if he felt his eyes on him he didn't look up, too embarrassed to even try. "where's y/n?" Emily spoke, and spencer's heart started beating faster. He had noticed she wasn't there, obviously, and a part of him couldn't help but feel relieved by it. If she didn't show up that meant he didn't have to deal with it, with his feelings, his stupid feelings he was having troubles taming down and with y/n. he wouldn't have had to panic at her sight, but that also meant he wouldn't have gotten to see her, to hear her, and suddenly he didn't feel so relieved anymore. Why wasn't she here? It wasn't because of him, he knew that, he wasn't stupid. "She said she'd be late but she should be arriving briefly" JJ explained. Thank god, at least nothing had happened. "speak of the devil" Rossi smiled, nodding at the door. "Hi, sorry I'm late" Y/n entered the room, her presence immediately filling the space, and Spencer's mind. "no problem we were just about to start" JJ smiled reassuringly "all right" she said, sitting hastily down on her chair, right next to Spencer. "hi" she greeted him briefly, her big smile making his heart skip a beat. "hi" he whispered back. She still smelled like outside, like the wind and the city, the undertone of lemons still prominent, as it always was. He didn't know if it was her shampoo or her perfume, what he knew, was that he shouldn't be thinking about either of them. They were friends. That was it. He needed to get a grip, and stop feeding into his delusions. Everything was normal, she had greeted him normally, and so had he. She wasn't thinking about him, or about last night. He was the only delusional one. It wasn't a big deal, nothing had happened. Everything was fine. Everything was fine, he kept telling himself, even as JJ started speaking, and even as his eyes involuntarily kept drifting to his coworker, his friend, her. Everything was fine.

previous part | next part

taglist   (if you want to be added comment or write to me.)

@jazzerbelle14

[samaraxmorgan]

YAP ANON HERE (〜^∇^)〜'

you gave me my own tag 🥹, I'm so honored thank you (⚈∇⚈ )

Ok so this is a kinda short yap but basically I was thinking about us and Sukuna going to a craft fair and stuff cause I imagine us walking around and looking at each stand and what they have and then we notice a stand with crocheted stuff and we see a crocheted guitar plush (I'm projecting I'm working on a guitar plush right now) and we point it out to Sukuna because it kinda looks like his guitar and Sukuna brushes it off and tells us he's going to the bathroom and while he's in there we go over to the stand and buy the guitar plush and a tiger plush because we can and when we meet back up with Sukuna we gift him the plushes and Sukuna's face flushes for a moment before he accepts the gift and tries to act nonchalant (He fails) and then we do some more shopping before leaving or something and on the train ride home Sukuna whispers to you 'Thanks for the gift, sweets' OR some other pet name and we're just a blushing mess kDJHFKJSHFDERIWKHFNIUER

HAVE AN AWESOME DAY/NIGHT AND REMEMBER YOU ARE GREAT \(⚈∇⚈ )/

HI BABE hehe yesss u have ur own special tag now <3

This is SO CUTE STOP ITTTT!!!! Omg and you know for a fact that he’s gonna prop those up in his room and make it look like the tiger is playing guitar!!!!!

When he leaves to go to the bathroom we’re staring down the little plushies debating if we should buy them or if he would think it’s stupid, and we’re like let’s do it!! Worst case he just laughs at me!! So we buy them and are scrambling hiding them behind our back when we see him walking back, telling him “close your eyes” and he’s like “it’s not another fish right” ASKAAKAK

And when we give him the plushies he is SO smitten. He’s trying SO HARD to keep up this uninterested facade, but we can see a smile cracking on his lips and he covers his mouth up with the palm of his hand, pulling his cheeks down so we can’t see the smile in his eyes but he’s CAUGHT!!! There is NO hiding it!!! He makes some little joke about how “now I’ve gotta walk around carrying these things” but he fucking loves it. We offer to carry one for him and he’s almost offended like NO!! These are MINE back off SKAKAKKA

On the train ride home he props the tiger one up to sit on our head and takes a picture (because it’s SOOO funny, that’s DEFINITELY why. Not because it’s cute and he wants a picture of us that’d be SOOOO RIDICULOUS!!)

Omg and I can’t decide what kind of petname he would call us likeee!! I LOVE the idea of him dropping one sooo casually but I’m so torn between sweets, or doll, like AAAA!!!! I need to write a part of us having some kind of inside joke that leads to a petname!! Like us spilling honey on the counter so he calls us honey or something askakkaksm

Imagining him calling us sweets had me sqEALINGG IM KICKING MY FEET GIGGLING RN!!!! He leans over and whispers into our ear in his deep raspy voice and we’re IMMEDIATELY so flustered and a total blushing MESS and he sees it and is soooo smug so proud of himself!!! He’s absolutely gonna give us a hard time about it later hehehehe

Have a wonderful day!!!!! If u have petname suggestions let me knowwww!!!!!!! <3

[evieismol]

Big Bend Chapter Nineteen - Thoughts

Word count: 1437

Cw: cursing, brief mentions of being anxious over giant character hurting smaller characters (nothing comes of it)

“Is Dan around?”

I looked up to see a skinny, overly tan woman glaring at me. She looked vaguely familiar - I was fairly certain I’d seen her around before. That made sense, if she was asking for the park supervisor by name.

“He’s out to lunch right now,” I replied. “Is there something Annie or I could help you with? Or you could leave a message for him?”

The woman gave me a look that almost made me take a step back - a sneer of pure disdain. She eyed my name tag.

“Dave, huh? I take it you’re new. When I want to talk to Dan, I talk to Dan.”

“Right. Well, he’s at lunch, so…” I said. She huffed.

“Fine. I’ll wait.” The woman took a seat on the bench near the door of the visitor center. I shot a quick glance over to Annie, who just shrugged. I looked back to the woman. She was scrolling through her phone, her back now turned to us.

Not my circus, not my monkeys, I decided after a moment, returning my attention to the countertop I’d been organizing. Hardly the most important job, but it was a slow afternoon. As most afternoons when Easton wasn’t working tended to be. The giant certainly drew the crowd management was hoping for, I’d give him that much. I placed the last highlighter in the cup they sat in, then shook my head. They’d look better organized by color, I decided.

“Any idea when Dan will be back?” The woman by the door asked, still sounding annoyed. I sighed internally. I’d really dared to hope that the end to my interaction with her had already happened. Annie answered before I could.

“Probably within the hour. I think you just missed him.”

“Fantastic,” she said sarcastically. “I have things to do, you know.”

Maybe don’t stop by unannounced, then, I thought. I forced a smile.

“We could take a message for him-“

“My father’s cattle are missing.” She said, cutting me off. I fought to keep the confusion off my face. She continued. “Three of them.”

“And you think they wandered over here?” Annie asked. I didn’t know much about cattle ranching, but I couldn’t help but think this was a weird amount of effort to put into finding three cows.

Don’t ranchers have, like, thousands of cows or something?

“No,” the woman replied. She rolled her eyes. “I think they were taken.”

“Okay, so…what does that have to do with us?” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself. She gave me a look that suggested I’d just said something hopelessly stupid.

“My cattle are missing. You lot employ that freaky giant alien predator. Do the math,” she said.

“You think Easton took your cows?” I said, finally catching up.

“Beauty and brains,” she responded sarcastically. I mulled over her accusation in my head. It didn’t seem especially likely, at first thought, given that Easton had said he was a vegetarian and didn’t seem to so much as blink without asking John.

He could have lied about that, my brain whispered conspiratorially.

“I assure you, I’m sure Ranger Parks isn’t responsible for any missing cattle,” Annie said. “There’s a number of predators in the area, from mountain lions to-

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what they told you to say,” the woman replied. She looked over at me.

“Are you also going to give me some canned PR response?”

“Coyotes are a major source of cattle loss, I’ve heard,” I added half heartedly, still considering what she’d purported. I recalled the nightmare I had about Easton. The one where he’d killed people, and been planning on killing me, without a single care. I also remembered the way he’d been looking up at the stars that seem night, his pale green eyes filled with wonder. The way he’d been so careful in picking us up. How warm and soft his hand had felt to stand on.

God, why can I never have a single straightforward thought about him? I thought in frustration.

“Yeah, so are fucking giants.” The woman’s tone was laced with sarcasm and contempt. “Whatever. You know what, just let Dan know I stopped by.”

“Will do,” Annie replied. The woman shot another sneer in our direction, and then stormed off out the door.

“She’s always fun,” Annie said, as soon as the woman was gone.

“So I was right thinking she looked familar,” I mused. Annie nodded.

“Yep. Her name’s Joy. Kind of ironic. Her dad owns a ranch nearby, and she apparently never grew out of her highschool mean girl era. She stops by semi regularly with some half assed complaint for Dan. Personally, I think she has a little crush on him and is just looking for a reason to stop by. Like, no one can really be that dramatic over “kayakers ruining in the view” or whatever else she drags in here,” Annie said.

“So, you don’t think Easton took the cattle?” I asked, half jokingly.

Of course Easton didn’t. Wouldn’t. He’s way too nice, anyways.

“I don’t think she’d notice if 300 of her dad’s cattle went missing,” Annie replied with a snort. “Unless it got in the way of her next tanning appointment, anyways. I’ll mention it to Dan, I guess.”

By the time I got off work that evening, the incident had all but faded from my mind. It was brought back to the forefront as I saw Easton sitting outside the employee housing building. He was talking to Angie, who was sitting in the frame of her window. I probably shouldn’t have still felt surprised when he turned to glance over at me as I walked up. Aphirial super hearing and all of that. It was maybe more nervousness than surprise, I realized a moment later. I wasn’t exactly sure why.

Probably because he’s like, 200 fucking feet tall, I thought. Or because he’s like, 200 fucking feet tall and actually looks happy to see me, which feels almost…flattering? I’m smaller than one of his fingers and like, that insignificant and he still looks happy to see me. I pushed that thought from my mind. It was just that he was a giant - a fucking aphirial, for crying out loud. That was enough to make most people nervous, no weird confusing thoughts of how he was such a stupidly nice person and flattery or whatever needed. That was all.

“Hi Dave!” Angie called from the window. “How was work?”

I walked over to them, noting that I didn’t feel nearly as uncomfortable standing next to Easton’s leg as I might have a few months prior.

“It was work,” I replied with a shrug. “What’re you guys talking about?”

“This girl who showed up last night,” Angie said. “Apparently she made quite the impression on Easton.”

I wasn’t entirely sure why I felt my stomach turn slightly at that last sentence, and I didn’t particularly want to dwell on it.

“Oh?” I asked.

“Yeah. I guess she ran into him outside his place and like, didn’t even know he was working here? And then was just like, ‘oh, you’re an aphirial, that’s nice. Know any good camping spots?’ Which is not the usual reaction.” She looked over at Easton. “No offense.” He shook his head slightly.

“No, you’re right. It caught me off guard,” he said with a slight laugh. “There’s just usually more…questions.”

Or running and screaming, I added silently. I could only imagine the reaction I’d have had if I randomly ran into Easton in the middle of the night, especially not knowing he worked here. It probably wouldn’t have included asking for camping recommendations.

“Oh, also, he does have snapchat,” Angie said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Huh?” It took me a moment to remember I’d been wondering about that the other night.

God, why did I say that outloud?

“Because of my other friends from Earth. And my sister had some sort of program designed for the software interfaces because of the whole Earth-Aphiria liasion thing she’s a part of, which I don’t really understand techwise and I’m rambling now, so…uh, long story short, yeah, I have snapchat.”

At least Easton seemed to interpret my embarrassment over having asked Angie as confusion about how that was possible, I thought flatly.

“Oh. That’s cool. Yeah, I was just wondering how that would work,” I said.

I didn’t add that I wasn’t really sure if that was true. Or that I wasn’t even sure what the alternative option was for why I’d asked Angie in the first place.

[emberscientificexperiment]

Boundaries + Rules

Hi. This is a post that will regard the BOUNDARIES/GUIDELINES of being a part of TWitW/AK fandom (asking questions, making fanart, etc.) I’ll try to keep this short and still informative so that it’s convenient to read and such. (It actually ended up being a bit longer than I planned but please read.)

If you have any questions, I ask that you DM me.

*THESE WILL UPDATE AS THE STORY IS PUBLISHED*

Things I AM okay with:

Fanart is strongly encouraged. Please, doodle to your heart’s content. But TAG ME if you make your art public, because believe me, I want to see.

My characters meeting your characters. Who knows what chaos will arise when people from different fandoms (or your ocs) encounter each other? I enjoy funny crossovers, so I don’t mind.

Crack ships. I enjoy a good laugh every now and then. But just know that your crack ships are JOKES. And the characters who are being shipped together both have to be 16+ and can be together (orientations.)

Questions/Asks are strongly encouraged, and you don’t have to worry about them being too stupid or dumb. I’m fine with anything, really. But I am not revealing any spoilers.

Spreading my art/work. As long as you CREDIT ME, then I am perfectly fine with you using, reposting, retweeting, etc. my work and characters. (THIS DOES NOT APPLY TO THE UNHOLY THINGS, READ BELOW)

I’m fine with receiving tips/pointers. As long as you are not straight up insulting my work, then you can DM me and give helpful tips/advice.

You’re free to ship the characters you wish to, again, as long as they are 16 and above, and their orientations are compatible. And remember that your ships are only fanon (depending on whom is being shipped together because some may end up being canon) so don’t expect it to be canon unless it’s made canon by me.

NSFW. Only gore is permitted, though, to characters of all ages. I do NOT want to see the genitals of anyone, or hear how you want to do such things to a certain character, especially the small kids. Romantic content (fluff ONLY) is okay, but keep it lowkey. Nothing too extreme. Half body shots are the absolute MAXIMUM when it comes to dirty art, and I do NOT want to be tagged in it. The suggestive + half body rule ONLY applies to characters that are at least 18 (age of consent in this universe is 16 but only the nasty art is allowed to be made of characters 18+) so no nasty things are to be said/drawn of anyone under that age.

Jokes. Again, I like to goof around from time to time, such as answering your silly questions. But please be respectful when it comes to not only me, but my characters, as well. Please use tone tags so that nothing is taken the wrong way, for your benefit, and for mine.

Simping. It’s fine, but don’t go too far. You know the rules and the boundaries. Follow them.

Things I AM NOT okay with:

Claiming my work + characters as your own. TWitW and all of its characters belong to me. If I see you claiming that my work is your work, things will not look good for you.

Harsh criticism. I said this when I first made a post about TWitW on my other blog: I am an amateur writer. I am willing to take tips/advice, but if you straight up insult my work, then please do not interact with me or my content.

Saying negative things about my work online. If you have a problem, kindly DM me and state what your problem is. Do NOT badmouth my work to the public.

Pressuring me to answer questions. I’ll answer them when I can. Usually I answer anything rather quickly, but if something comes up and I’m occupied, then I will get back to it when I can.

Asking me to reveal spoilers. No. I’m not going to. No questions asked.

Sexualizing anyone under the age of 18. Don’t you ever dare say that you want to do the deed with someone under the age of consent in this universe (even though characters are doing it at 16, only think your disgusting thoughts of the characters that are 18+) And don’t you EVER dare draw something so horrendous. That is shameful, and do not interact with me or my content if you are able to do such things.

Sexualizing someone who’s orientation is not compatible to yours. I’ll explain this a bit. If a character is CANONICALLY a lesbian, then I better not see anyone who is male-aligned in gender sexualizing them. This also applies to gay male characters and anyone who is female-aligned in gender, as well as characters who are canonically aroace (such as Eve.)

Shipping minors and adults (16 is considered the shipping age.) No questions asked. Don’t ship a 14 year old and a 17 year old. You know that’s wrong.

Shipping characters who’s orientations are not compatible with each other. Similar to above. For example, do not ship a lesbian character with a male character, and vice versa. This also applies to people who may be aromatic, or aroace. Leave them be.

Disrespecting my boundaries. Come on. Be a decent person and follow the rules.

Telling ME, the CREATOR, that you want to do the nasty with a character. Again, I do NOT want to be told those kinds of things about my (basically) children. I can’t control your thoughts, so whatever you think about the characters is your business, but I do not want to hear those thoughts. That’s disgusting, and I have better things to do than listen to that kind of nonsense.

THINGS TO REMEMBER (if you want to be part of this fandom):

Tag me (I have Twitter + Tumblr) if you make (SFW + gore) fanart of my characters. (Tag this blog on Tumblr and catastrophe6688 on Twitter.)

Do NOT tag me in any NSFW (excluding gore.)

Credit me if you repost/use any of my art. (Tag the appropriate blog/account.)

No hateful comments. Helpful advice is welcome.

No sexualizing any characters under the age of 18.

Know where to draw the line when it comes to genuine ships, as well as simping.

Ships are FANON. Crack ships are JOKES. Nothing more. Neither are not canon to the actual story.

Use tone tags. They’re not required, but they are strongly encouraged so that your messages, asks, etc. are not interpreted the wrong way.

Do not tell me that you want to do anything sexual with my characters. Keep those thoughts to yourself.

Think before you speak.

Respect boundaries and follow the rules.

Thank you for reading

-Ember

[live-laugh-loverpool]

Hi! Could you write something involving just Fabi and Bobby?

I think the two have been friends longer, so maybe something involving Bobby trying to help a nervous Fabi overcome his shyness at a time when he needs to speak in public.

I think this is the quickest I finished a fic 😆😆

Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234, @rubybecker-rb2,@rist-mlts, @moomin279

The Press Conference

Fabinho nervously fiddled with his zipper, his sweaty fingers slipping off the metal. A week ago, a major sports news site had contacted him for an interview. But now he wondered why he’d ever agreed with them.

When he’d written them back, saying that he would conduct the interview, he’d felt relatively confident. It was a Portuguese news site, which took the worry of translating his English correctly away, but Fabinho still felt nervous about it.

“Caramba, Fabinho,” he muttered to himself. He kicked away a juice box that somebody had left in the press room. “Eleven years as a footballer and you still can’t give an interview without panicking?!”

What to do?

The promotional videos were one thing, as the attention usually remained on the product. But Fabinho couldn’t even do those by himself. He had to have another person with him, like Firmino.

É isso! Fabinho snapped his fingers together, taking out his phone. I’ll call Bobby! He’ll know what to do.

He dialed the number and held the phone to his ear. He anxiously checked his watch and wished Firmino would pick up the phone—it would soon be time for the interview.

“Fabi!” Firmino’s voice finally came over the line. Fabinho couldn’t help but sigh with relief. “How’d the interview go?”

How Fabinho wished that Firmino was right and the interview was already over. “Actually…it hasn’t started yet.”

“Ah, stage fright getting the best of you?”

Fabinho nodded, too embarrassed to verbally confirm that yes, he was indeed suffering from glossophobia, or, more commonly put, stage fright. “I know it’s stupid. I’ve been giving press conferences for years and I still struggle with stage fright.”

“Let’s go on camera,” Firmino suggested. “I’m doing some shopping now, but I can chat.”

Fabinho glanced at his watch and saw that he had three minutes. He reluctantly turned his camera on, taking his seat at the press conference desk. His breath quickened when he thought of the dozens of reporters that would swarm him with questions in less than half an hour.

“Forget about the press conference. Look at me, Fabi.” For a moment, Fabinho had forgotten he was on camera now. He focused on Firmino’s hair, crazy and wild yet comforting.

“Remember when the boss wrote back to that kid? The one who was nervous for his exams? El chefe confessed that even he still gets nervous. So what if you still get nervous?” Firmino grinned at Fabinho, showcasing his perfect teeth. “You still manage to press through the press conferences. See what I did there?”

Fabinho couldn’t help but laugh at Firmino’s awful pun. “You know what? You’re right, Bobby—even if your jokes are terrible.”

“They still managed to make you laugh,” Firmino pointed out. “You can do this, Fabi. Remember—if you get nervous, just imagine all the reporters are me.”

Fabinho was about to respond when he heard footsteps outside the door. Quickly apologizing to Firmino and promising to text him later, he stuffed his phone into his pocket just before the journalists and reporters swarmed the room, sitting on every flat, stable surface available.

He steadily gazed at the chairs, mentally shutting out the hustle and bustle of scraping chairs and rubber soles dragging over the carpet. Then instead of three dozen journalists, he imagined three dozen Firminos.

“What’s so funny?” a reporter asked him out of nowhere.

Fabinho then realized he was die laughing in front of thirty-six reporters. He managed to catch his breath, adjusting the microphone.

“Não é nada. Comecemos.”