#i was talking and then it was like tell me the truth and then i was like okay and i said something and then it was like tell me the truth

[dilfhubs]

when fratboy!satoru takes your virginity you kind of expect him to be an ass about it. he's cocky as it is, and has a habit of gassing himself up too much when it comes to his... skills in the bedroom. if you're not listening to him talk about how he's the strongest, you're listening to him talk about how he's the biggest.

being the only virgin of your friend group was starting to grate on you and... a small part of you might've wanted to find out if there's any bite to satoru's bark. it's not like the two of you were dating or anything, but you felt comfortable enough to walk up to him one day during lunch and ask, in front of his best friend:

"will you take my virginity?"

maybe you expected him to blush. or freeze up. or at least trip over his words. but instead, the stupid white-haired prick looked up at you with the most relaxed expression possible and shrugged.

"okay."

and that's how you ended up here, sitting criss-cross applesauce on his messy dorm-room bed with his tongue halfway down your throat. a few empty cans of beer and abandoned cheat sheets lay strewn over his floor, and you hate yourself for letting this be the backdrop of your entry into the sex-having life.

but you can’t hate yourself for long because as he runs a hand up your thigh and under your skirt, you start to feel more excited than you thought you’d feel. he pushes you back, slots his knee between your thighs and bites at your bottom lip before trailing down to your throat.

still, it’s satoru, so when he pushes your panties to the side and feels just how wet you are for him, he laughs. “you get this wet when you touch yourself or is all of this just for me?”

“shut up,” you groan as he nips at the skin of your throat and gently runs his finger through your folds and up to your clit. you’re surprised he knows where your clit is, even.

and he’s not wrong—you’ve never been wet like this before. you can feel just how damp the fabric of your panties are you as satoru pulls them down your thighs and hikes your skirt up to get a clearer look at your soaked cunt.

“pretty,” he licks his lips. “wannna taste her, that okay baby?”

his eyes search yours for consent and you’re stunned for a moment as he waits for ‘enthusiastic consent’. you didn’t expect this sort of check-in from a frat boy. your nod seems enthusiastic enough to him, but just for clarity—“use your words.”

“yes. please, gojo.”

“satoru,” he corrects you. “want to hear that name when you cum on my tongue. cant believe no ones tasted her before.”

the use of referring to your pussy as ‘her’ is odd but quickly overlooked when he delves into your pussy like he’s dehydrated. tongue flat against your heat just to flex and circle around your clit. he sucks and bites a little and pulls you to your first orgasm in nasty speeds.

you cum on his tongue whilst his eyes bore into yours from between your thighs. white hair pulled out of his face by your hand as you tug the strands in hopes that he’ll stop licking at your overstimulated clit. it takes until you’re shaking for him to finally pull back and free his angry cock from his pants.

you think you gasp when you see it. he said he was big but you didn’t think he was a truthful man in the slightest. his cock is so heavy it doesn’t even stand at full mast—it fights gravity. satoru sees the look on your face and instead of sporting a shit-eating grin like you expect, he climbs over you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“let’s stop here?” he asks. “we could watch a movie. oooh what about die hard?”

you giggle, your nerves melting a little at his words. “i��m okay, i want this. i am not graduating as a virgin.”

satoru snorts and, after rolling a condom on, gently pries your legs apart enough for him to slot his wait in between them. he guides your ankles to link behind his back and slowly runs the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he says. “just relax. i’ve got you, baby.”

you actually manage to relax a little, focus on the feeling of being stretched as satoru slowly pushes into you until his tip is completely hidden in your cunt. it’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. “keep going.”

one of his long fingers dips down to rub soft circles over your clit to relax you a little more as he pushes deeper. you’ve never felt so full, so sore yet desperate for more… you wonder if it’s always going to feel like this, or if it’s just because satoru is the one breaking you open to find pleasure in your insides.

he lets out a pretty moan as he bottoms out inside of you, the weight of his heavy balls resting against your ass as he stills and catches your lips in a wet kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes against your tongue as he slowly draws out of you and then, with a grunt that you taste, snaps his hips forwards into you.

that hurts, but there’s an odd stitch of pleasure in the way he’s broken you open. “sorry,” he speaks against your lips. “it’s better that i just got it out of the way, it can start feeling real good soon. gonna make you cum on my cock, baby. you want that?”

you nod, eyes staring into his as your foreheads meet. satoru nods back, licking his lips and smiling. “yeah? you wanna be stuffed full, huh? always knew you were filthy. but i’m the only one that gets to see it.”

his arrogance pulls at your lips. “until i fuck the next guy.”

snap. his cock splits you open at that, and though you wince and screw your face us, you’re letting out moans made for porn too. his finger on your clit starts working a little faster as he draws back again just to drive into you even harder.

“no,” he dips his head down to bite at your neck. “not until you fuck the next guy. i mean you can try, baby, but it’s not happening.”

“ngh, what do you mean?”

another thrust into you sends you further up the bed. you’re sure you look a mess but satoru looks down at you with such wide blown eyes that you could be convinced you’re from the heavens. “not giving you up that easy,” he groans. “you know, i fucked someone last week just because they had your name. got to moan it without being slapped. again.”

your hand flies up to his chest, almost in an attempt to slow his now mean pace. “wait you—ngh god—you like me?”

“i’m far fucking past like,” he moans, hips starting to stutter. any discomfort has faded into glorious pleasure. your stomach starts to tighten again and you know you’re close enough that he’s going to try and time your orgasms. “you’re so perfect. so much better than i imagined.”

your eyes roll back a little at the thought of satoru fucking his fist late at night to the thought of you. how nonchalant he was when you asked him to take your virginity, you wonder if he went home last night and stroked himself to the sheer anticipation of being inside of you.

“satoru i’m gonna—”

he cuts you off with a deep kiss. it’s sex and want and lust, but it’s also soft in a way you can’t describe—maybe even a little anxious after his confession. it might just be his pending orgasm, but you swear his lips tremble between yours.

his cock throbs as he drills it into you, hits your most sensitive spot with every single thrust. it’s like he already has you mapped out, because you’re both cumming in tandem with each other before long.

a part of you aches to feel his cum spill into you instead of the condom he wears, to be claimed and filled by his seed over and over. would he fuck it back into you? clean you off with his talented tongue? would he plug you with his cock until he’s ready to overfill you with a second load?

he moans into your mouth and pulls back a little to revel in your fucked out expression. your legs still wrap around his waist, boxing him in and keeping him close. you worry that in typical frat boy fashion he’ll make an excuse and run off to recount the fuck with his friends. but satoru pecks at your lips, then your chin, then down your neck again.

“what are you doing?” you ask, vision slightly blurred from the intensity of your orgasm.

“gonna make you cum again,” he smiles against your skin. “didn’t you hear?”

“hear what?”

he pulls back to look at you, a soft smile pulling at his pretty lips. “that if you cum at least five times when you lose your virginity, you’ll fall in loooove.”

[enhaeil]

BLOOM! ☆ 엔하이픈

"everything you do, how you call my name sunday afternoon, come and make it rain. let the flowers bloom, ease my pain. always tell the truth, can you answer me?"

bloom - aqyila

lovesick boyfriend! enhypen ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

c/w: suggestive parts in everyone's but niki's. otherwise fluff

heeseung

boyfriend heeseung, who loves that he can be boring and nerdy with you. you guys can just sit there in silence or cuddle while he plays video games and not say anything. he doesn't always have to try to tell a joke or be interesting. he can be his full, authentic self. + you let him talk about his buzz lightyear toys, so he wins.

boyfriend heeseung who is actually obsessed with you, and everything about you. your smile, your laugh, your scent, your body, you name it. he never misses a day of telling you how in love he is with you.

boyfriend heeseung, who is shameless when you turn him on. his hands will be everywhere but where they're supposed to be. he has no problem pressing up against you or whispering filth in your ear. you know what hell yea

jay

boyfriend jay, who is the biggest gentleman. he always walks closest to the sidewalk. he always holds the door and pulls out your chair. he buckles your heels for you every time y'all go out. and even after so long together, he still asks for permission to kiss you.

boyfriend jay, who loves taking you to his hometown, seattle. y'all know that video of him taking a late night walk there 💔 im sick he takes walks with you at night all the time he just loves you so much and wants to show you where he grew up.

boyfriend jay, who's gentle even in bed. he won't ever hurt or degrade you unless you REALLY enjoy it. he might be slightly rougher on more stressed or pent-up days, but other than that, he literally makes love.

jake

boyfriend jake, who feels like he doesn't always have to think around you. he's so comfortable with you that he knows it's okay to say something that doesn't make sense or something that might not be correct because you won't judge him and you probably get exactly what he means.

boyfriend jake, who is literally your shadow. he gives you your space, of course, but he loves you and loves being around you. he's literally like a lost puppy just following you around the house.

boyfriend jake, who's obsessed with your butt. don't get me wrong, he loves your boobs too, constantly face planting into them— but that ass though. his pillow. his bongos. his dinner, i fear.

sunghoon

boyfriend sunghoon, who's literally your best friend. like you got a boyfriend and bestie in one. you guys will just sit there and talk to each other for hours about nonsense. sometimes when you get bored, you'll help him with his english too.

boyfriend sunghoon, who thinks you're the funniest person on earth. if they asked who makes him the laugh the most he'd say you. sometimes you're not even telling a joke, and he's in the corner giggling like a school girl.

boyfriend sunghoon, who's the best kisser. i mean he a DEEP kisser, like sometimes you'll withold from even a quick smooch cuz you know freakhoon gon jump out, and you'll end up naked.

sunoo

boyfriend sunoo who's your best friend, pt2. but not only that; he's your best friend, boyfriend, therapist, makeup artist, pillow, chef. he will be whatever you need him to be that day. he'd genuinely would do anything for you, he ADORES you.

boyfriend sunoo, who will always take your side even if you might be wrong. coworker getting on your nerves ? she should leave you alone. you cussed out some man at the club? he had it coming! a mosquito bit you? wtf is it's problem? NOT ON SUNOO'S WATCH.

boyfriend sunoo who is versatile when it comes to the bedroom. whatever you're feeling that day he will do. if you want him on top that night, he'll joyfully do it. you in a rough mood? give him 2 minutes, and he'll get into mode. as long as you feel good, he feels great.

jungwon

boyfriend jungwon, who is literally your other half. y'all are the goofiest duo on the planet, i swear. the type of couple to make up their own language while everybody else looks at you like you're insane. you guys have so many inside jokes, too.

boyfriend jungwon, who's always given you the first bite or last bite of his food. even when you say 'no' or tell him you're not hungry, he will stilk feed you. he loves you so much and wants to make sure you're never hungry and always content.

boyfriend jungwon, who touches your boobs and butt a lot but somehow makes it in the most innocent way possible... like he's not even being a freak he's just holding your boobs as if this is normal. hands reaching out to give your ass a jiggle or make a beat on it like it's a drumset.

niki

boyfriend niki, who tries so hard to be nonchalant around you, but somebody tell him he is NOT that guy 🙏🏽. you're too funny and too pretty for him to be nonchalant, he be smiling like a big ol' goofy around you. he still tries to act like he doesn't care in front of his members, though. can't let them know !

boyfriend niki, who won't let anybody else touch his stuff except for you. whatever's his is yours once you guys are together. he even lets you play on his game console if you're bored while he's away. he especially loves when you steal his clothes, but he won't let you know that.

boyfriend niki who always tries to impress you. performing extra hard on stage, being really good at a game, walking around in a tanktop and sweats to show off his muscles; anything to get you to compliment him. Please compliment him, or he'll sulk and say you hate him and think he's ugly.

a/n: hi ill answer the asks in my box soon

[ao3cassandraic]

I think... we also... get to respond to our parents as people, not just parents?

My mother (RIP) had a snobbish streak a mile wide, that amounted to homophobia and racism way too often. She wasn't very good at listening to people, but she was very exercised about telling them how to live their lives. When I became an adult we simply couldn't connect over much.

My dad has basically two modes: mad-scientist mode (in which he runs down every colleague he's ever had and talks wild conspiracy theories about journals rejecting his work and They Will Pay... when the truth is he really doesn't know what he's doing and is way out of his epistemic lane) and politics mode (similar, just more strident). Both modes suck all the air out of the room and cast his interlocutor willy-nilly as silent adoring audience.

I just. I can't. He's not in any way enjoyable to be around.

And one of the hardest things about social interaction for me is consciously remembering not to behave like my dad. (I get enthusiastic about stuff!)

Parents don’t get to decide if they were “really good” parents. I know that’s harsh and there’s a lot of mommy positivity circles online that just give each other a positive feedback loop but you don’t decide if you were a “really great parent” to your child. Your children tell you if you were a good parent or not. I see this a lot of no contact parent circles where the person who is no contact with their children is like “well I was a GREAT parent so it isn’t my fault and I didn’t do anything wrong”. Normal parents wonder if they’re doing a good job, ask themselves how they can improve, are open to feedback from children and other parents. If you are 100% sure you were a faultless fantastic selfless awesome fantastic parent totally beyond reproach and your shitty ungrateful willful delinquent children just don’t appreciate you enough, you are a terrible parent.

[lokidjarin-7567]

I Hate It Here

Kang Dae-ho x Reader After joining a mysterious game of life and death, you find solace in the company of another player, one so vibrant and optimistic it draws your mind from the horrors that await you. fem!reader, fluff, usual content warnings for Squid Game, guns, language, death etc, obvious spoilers for Squid Game season 2, mostly edited, not perfectly accurate to the episodes but close enough 5k words Hi all! If anyone else is like me, I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Squid Game since watching season two, and wrote this piece on my fav this season! I still have a poll up on my page for what other characters I should write about (accidentally set it to a week rather than a day oops), so if you have any other requests, drop a vote there, and specific suggestions in my comments or asks if you have any. This also happens to be the longest fluff piece I've ever written, so I hope its ok! Will add another chapter if people like. Enjoy <3 TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You hadn’t even considered that the weird guy who started shouting before the first game started would be telling the truth. That you could actually die here for money, or for entertainment, or for whatever the twisted fuckers who brought you here wanted. You figured he was just vying for attention, or trying to scare you all into backing out. Then you heard a gunshot.

After that moment, you followed every piece of advice he shouted out, satisfied he knew something you didn’t. You made it over the finish line, shocked and traumatised, thanks only to hiding behind someone a lot taller than you. You immediately collapsed on the dirt panting with exhaustion, a few tears falling from your eyes. What had you gotten yourself into?

You were relieved when Player 456 called for a vote to end the games, and even more relieved at the realisation that his number was only a little after your own. He was called to vote first, red X marking his jersey, and you followed suit just after him, lucky as Player 452 that you could get your voting over and done with quickly. He smiled at you, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment, and you returned the favour, moving to stand beside him. You quietly celebrated with him when a player chose your side, and you watched as he tried to talk to the remaining people, explaining how he’d played before. Then you consoled him when it didn’t work. It came down to the last vote, the stress almost too much to bear, but as Player 001 was adorned in blue light from his selection, you realised you were stuck here, and you were close to crying again.

Player 456 automatically took you under his wing. There seemed to be another player that he knew, so you sat with them as you ate the provided food, dejected at the outcome, but grateful to at least have found some allies. You were trying to ask a few subtle questions about the game, but other players kept approaching your group. You shrunk back a little, avoiding the attention that came with being around the previous winner of the games, listening as people spoke of their admiration for him, and grilled him for information as to what was happening next.

You hadn’t noticed at first - a voice speaking from behind you - and honestly, you didn’t want to turn around, still feeling shy and awkward. Eventually, though, the crowd dissipated, and the source of the voice jumped down from one of the bunks. He was tall and lean, shoulder length hair pulled into a half-up half-down style, strays falling around his temples and framing his face. His smile was infectious, carrying from his lips to his eyes, which were rich brown in colour and full of joy and enthusiasm. You were transfixed by him as he introduced himself as Kang Dae-ho, quickly bonding with the man Player 456 knew thanks to their shared military history. He was the antithesis of you - so outgoing, so enthusiastic, so full of optimism. Even down to the blue circle that adorned his uniform; on most, it was a bad look, voting to continue at the risk of others, but on him, it seemed courageous.

His chattiness was as contagious as his smile, and as he joined your group to eat, you found yourself immersed in conversation with him: about the game, about the other players, about the members of your little makeshift crew. Even watching on and cheering together as Player 001 took down a few bullies in front of everyone. He was comfortable to be around. A welcome distraction that helped you forget where you were, or what you might have to do as the days passed.

And it was working. Until, after a while, the conversation lulled momentarily, and you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to darker places. What the game might be. What it would involve. If it would ever really get as brutal as Gi-hun said it might…

You felt a gentle nudge on your arm, snapping you out of your spell at the sound of your name falling from Dae-ho’s lips.

“You good?” He muttered quietly, a hint of concern on his face. You had been talking for a few hours now, and you had done everything in your power to keep up your positive front, to pretend you were happy to be here but it was fading fast.

“Yeah, I’m just…”

“Scared?” A sigh of relief fell from your lips.

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, glancing around to see where the others were, before leaning in closer.

“Me too, honestly. Just trying not to show it…” There was a sincerity in his voice, a vulnerability that you could tell wasn’t fake. He wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.

“Dae-ho…” you muttered, gesturing to the blue badge that signified his vote, “why did you choose to stay?” He shrugged, glancing back at the crowd of people who were starting to prepare for lights out.

“I need the money, and honestly, when I voted, I didn’t know anyone here. I figured it’s not like I’m personally killing anyone. No harm no foul, right? It’s just the way a soldier thinks, I guess. You don’t know who you’re shooting, just that they’re in the way of your victory. But now…” he paused a beat, his eyes darting over to where Jung-bae and Gi-hun were sitting, deep in conversation, before landing on you, eyes scanning your face with a curious intensity. “I’ll do everything to keep my team alive.” You couldn’t help but laugh coldly. The sentiment was sweet, sure, but there were no guarantees.

“From what Gi-hun told us, it might not be a team game. It could be something completely out of our control…”

“I’m hopeful!” He exclaimed, the optimistic, puppy-like demeanour back as he grinned at you.

“I’m glad someone is.” The intercom informed you that it was 10 minutes until lights out, and you couldn’t help but let out a shuddering breath. You weren’t looking forward to that - trying to sleep in a dark room filled with hundreds of people you didn’t know. Desperate people.

“Let’s find our beds for the night?” Dae-ho prompted, standing and offering his hand to help you up. You took it, smiling at him thankfully and glancing around for the other members of your team, palm feeling cold when his touch left it. “Look, there are two next to each other just above where Gi-hun has set his things down. We can bunk close together so you know you’re safe. I’m a light sleeper!’ His constant proactivity in making you feel safe and comfortable was warming your heart, but simultaneously causing a bout of nausea and anxiety that rose from your gut. One of you might die tomorrow in these twisted games. He would betray you in a heartbeat to keep himself alive, regardless of his sentiments. And despite that, you're already starting to trust him.

He was right though; he was a light sleeper. A few hours in and you hadn’t slept at all yet, fear clouding every corner of your mind, and the only thing soothing you was the soft purr of his snores. Eventually, you couldn’t help but sit upright, a quiet but frustrated sigh escaping your lips as your hands ran across your face and through your hair. His voice muttered your name, and you glanced over in shock to see him slowly sitting up in his bed, his tired eyes raking over you with concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You pulled your legs to your chest, nodding at him before resting your head onto your knees.

“Can’t sleep.” You muttered as a sorry excuse of an explanation, but it seemed to convey what you really meant, his head cocked in worry.

“Can I help at all?” You opened your mouth to reply, to tell him that you'd be ok, but he continued before you had a chance. “Maybe you should try falling asleep before me. I’m going to be awake for a while now anyway, I can keep watch.” You were going to protest, to tell him to rest up and keep his energy for tomorrow, but honestly… it might help you. Just knowing he was keeping an eye out could get you a few hours of rest at least.

“…would that be ok?” You asked timidly, but he nodded with his now signature enthusiasm.

“Of course! I told you I’d protect you, I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Please, just get comfortable.” Your body instinctively laid down as close to him as possible, only the bars between the bunks separating you, curling up on the small bed and settling in. You closed your eyes, exhausted beyond belief, but the moment you did, panic overtook you. It was irrational, sure, but before, when you couldn’t see him, you could hear him snoring so you knew he was still there. Now, it was dead silent. Your arm reached forwards instinctively, avoiding the metal posts to meet the soft fabric of his uniform, fingers latching on securely. You blushed at your own response to fear, grateful to the dark surrounding you, but as you felt him shuffle closer, allowing you a firmer grip, all of your nerves dissipated, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.

You woke to loud classical music and the intercom announcing that the next game will be starting shortly. You blinked your eyes open, groaning already at the aches forming in your body and the speed of your heartbeat at the thought of the horrors today might bring. But then, you felt a hand softly close around your forearm, giving a gentle squeeze of encouragement. You glanced down to see where your hand was still clasped around the edge of his T-shirt, the back of your fingers grazing the warm skin of his stomach, his own arm draped atop yours from where he lay on your side. You blushed furiously, untangling your arm from his and sitting up as casually as you could manage, rubbing the back of your neck in an attempt to hide your red cheeks.

“Hey…” he muttered sleepily, shifting to sit up too, and your body automatically turned to him, as though after just a few hours of knowing him, you were programmed to seek his voice out and follow it. “Remember what I said, ok? Stick by me today. If it’s Dalgona like Gi-hun said, pick triangle, and if not, we’ll work it out.” You couldn’t do much but nod, nerves and fear clouding your senses. You just focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, climbing out of bed and lining up with the rest of the players in the centre of the room. When the guards starting walking, you followed wordlessly until you reached the game room, the only thing keeping you from breaking down was the knowledge that Dae-ho was right behind you.

Gi-hun’s confused expression when you entered the room confirmed everything you needed to know - you wouldn’t be playing Dalgona today. However, Dae-ho’s optimism from the day before was well-placed, as the speakers announced that players should arrange themselves into teams of five. It was an easy pick. At some point during the night or morning, Gi-hun had reconciled with Player 001, and he honestly seemed like a solid addition to the team. He had physical skill - you’d seen that during the fight - and he had a seriousness about him that made you feel confident.

They announced the games, and your heart dropped. As the only girl on the team, you knew they’d ask you to play gonggi, and it just wasn’t something you’d played. As the inevitable question came, you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry, I never had anyone to teach it to me.” Your heart broke at the disappointment on your teammates faces.

“I can play gonggi.” Dae-ho piped up from beside you, and you breathed out in relief.

“An ex-marine playing gonggi?” You heard Jung-bae pipe up, and you couldn’t help but frown at his comment. You could immediately hear the pride drain from Dae-ho’s voice as he replied, and you glared at the older man, hoping to quietly convey your disappointment in him.

“I have four older sisters, so I played with them sometimes.” Jung-bae started to backtrack and encourage him, but you couldn’t help but think about why Dae-ho felt like he had to defend himself. It was such an endearing trait - a softer side that you valued and trusted in an ally - and yet he was explaining why it was ok to be good at a kid’s game. It made you feel sad for him. You interrupted Jung-bae’s forced sentiment slightly harshly.

“I’m good at flying stone. I used to bet the boys in my class that I could beat them and won every time.” Jung-bae looked as though he was going to say something, but Dae-ho spoke up first with a wide smile that calmed your nerves.

“Perfect! We’re lucky to have an expert with us. What about the rest of you?”

The rest of the team decided their roles quickly, Jung-bae sarcastically stating if he couldn’t play flying stone like he wanted, ddakji was his next best choice. You just shrugged. Gi-hun settled on jegi, and Player 001 seemed happy with what was left to him, so now, all you had to do was wait.

The first race was awful. It felt like a car crash you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from as the second player in their team missed in flying stone over and over and over again. Your team were discussing strategies based on how they were doing, how missing the stone eats up time as you have to fetch it, but you just felt a lump form in the back of your throat. If you failed this, all of you would die. The timer hit zero as he finally struck the stone, and you ripped your eyes away just in time, covering your ears and staring at the floor as the sound of gunshots ricocheted throughout the room. You eventually opened your eyes as the pink guards carried large gift boxes into the room that you could only assume were coffins for the dead, and turned to glance at Dae-ho in horror. He wasn't looking at his surroundings, practicing his part of the game with some small stones, but there was a noticeable shake in his hands that hadn’t been there before.

It was hours before it was your turn, and you were already exhausted before even playing. Watching everyone else, being so invested in each and every person’s survival, constantly thinking about how you could improve on their methods for their own attempt - it had taken its toll. And now, it was finally time for you to do it. You looped your arms around Jung-bae’s and Dae-ho’s, ankles already bound together, and he gave you one last smile of encouragement before you set off. You moved in accordance to Gi-hun’s shouts, reaching the ddakji station before you knew it. It only took two attempts and it flipped, the excitement of your group palpable as you continued to the next game. Your turn.

Your hands were shaking as you took the stone from the guard, almost so much that you dropped the damn thing. You tried to breathe deeply, to calm yourself down, but your mind wouldn’t stop returning to that first race, to the player who missed over and over…

Warm hands surrounded your own, snapping you out of your thoughts and grounding you. Dae-ho spoke, and you looked up at him, fear etched into your features.

“Breathe. Remember how you used to do it. You’re just on the playground winning a bet. Steady your hands, breathe, and throw.” You nodded along as he spoke, breaths returning to normal just long enough to compose yourself, crouching slightly. Like a skipping stone. As it left your hand, you cursed quietly. You were worried that it was too high, not quite the right angle, but by some miracle, it caught the top of the stone, toppling it just with the lightest touch. You could’ve cried as the Circle guard raised his hands above his head to mimic the shape on his mask, relieved that you wouldn’t be at fault if your team didn’t make it.

Dae-ho’s arm was like a vice as you made your way to the next game, his own nerves now evident. He gathered the gonggi in his hand, feeling the weight of them, and you and Player 001 leant slightly away from him to give him the space he needed. Jung-bae started to speak, throwing some generic words of encouragement his way, but you shushed him quickly. He’d told you earlier that he concentrated better when it was silent, so you intended to make sure that he had the conditions he needed. You watched as he let out a breath in preparation, then began, moving with speed and accuracy that left you in awe. As he held out his fist to the guard, and they approved, you couldn’t help but quickly wrap your arm around him, a short celebration before moving to the next section.

It took Player 001 a long time to complete the Spinning Top. You couldn’t help but flinch every time he failed, glancing up at the time in worry as he cursed himself out over and over. Gi-hun set him straight, calming him down quickly and reminding him of everything at risk, and he finally succeeded. The last portion of the race passed in a blur of seconds, Gi-hun quickly completing Jegi with the help of Player 001 before stumbling over the finish line, unexpected tears falling from your eyes in relief. You had actually made it, all of you had…

Gunshots rung out in the room, and you screamed, instinctively ducking down, your hands flying to your ears. It wasn’t until your heartbeat returned to normal and the guards started to unlock your ankle restraints that you realised Dae-ho had wrapped himself around you, one arm pulling your face into his chest, your head nestled tightly in his hand and folding the rest of himself around you. You tried to move, legs now free, but he wasn’t budging. You could feel his heart hammering against his chest, breaths shaky as they fanned against your neck. You pulled your hands from your ears, pressing them to his chest and gently easing him back to standing. That seemed to snap him back to reality a little, but he looked confused, still shaking.

“Hey, Dae-ho…” you muttered, and his eyes finally settled on you, looking like a deer caught in headlights, “it’s ok, they didn’t shoot us. We’re alive, we’re ok…” You could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as you said that, the confusion and fear slowly giving way to relief, breaths steadying as his eyes frantically scanned your body for signs of injury.

“We’re ok?” He whispered, and you nodded.

“We’re all good. Nobody got hurt. We did it.” He nodded, the gravity of what you said finally hitting him. He smiled, but his eyes still looked far away, like he wasn’t quite grounded yet. “Let’s go back to the dorms, yeah? Then vote to get the fuck out of here.” He just nodded again, and you led him from the room, following the rest of your team, who kept glancing back at him with a concerned expression.

By the time you got back to the main room, though, he was back to his usual enthusiastic self, excitedly discussing voting plans with the rest of your team, and encouraging everyone on their prowess in their individual games. Despite your victory, it seemed that you all wanted to leave, happy with the money as it was and wanting a fresh start outside of this hell. But as the voting commenced, it didn’t take long for the O side of the tally to tick up, and by the time you and Gi-hun got to vote - the last out of everybody - it didn’t matter. The circles had already won.

Dinner was a silent affair: Gi-hun, Player 001 and yourself eating quietly while Dae-ho kept guiltily glancing to where Jung-bae had extradited himself, his traitorous blue badge burning your eyes as though it was a bright neon sign. Eventually, he stood, pulling the older man almost by the scruff of his neck over to where the rest of you were and having a quiet, frustrated conversation with him. You sighed as Dae-ho dragged him to stand in front of you all, looking at you expectantly as Jung-bae just looked sheepish. You sighed. No point losing an ally over something you couldn’t change now.

“It’s not like you voting to leave would have changed a whole lot, we were outvoted by more than one person…” The subsequent onslaught of thanks almost made you want to take it back, but the joy and pride in Dae-ho’s face made it worth it.

While you pretty much knew each other’s names already, he decided this would be a good time for everyone to introduce themselves properly, starting with himself. He explainied that his name meant ‘big tiger’, and it made you giggle. It was fitting - a hard and brutal exterior when needed, but ultimately a softy beneath it all. You heard everyone else’s, finally learning that Player 001 was called Young-il, just like his number, but when it got to you, you had to explain that you weren’t sure what your name meant.

“We could always give it a meaning,” Gi-hun piped up, and you laughed.

“Like what?”

“Maybe… good at throwing.” You laughed again as his face crumpled in shame at his own attempt, the others chiming in to better him.

“Loud snorer!” Jung-bae exclaimed, earning an offended ‘hey’ thrown in his direction.

“Good teammate?” Young-il said, and Gi-hun scoffed.

“That one’s just lazy! What about pretty hair?”

“You don’t name someone after their hair!”

“Kind angel.” Dae-ho said proudly, and you honestly felt close to tears as everyone else stopped bickering to agree with him. You smiled thankfully as his eyes met your’s, laced with warmth and care. Maybe it would all be ok if you stayed a little longer.

"Ok, big tiger, kind angel it is."

“When we survive the next game and finally get to leave this place…” You had been talking for well over an hour now, and you had given up correcting his ‘when’ statements to ‘if’. His optimism was so sweet it hurt your teeth, but if it helped him cope with being in here, then they could rot for all you cared. “What do you want to do?”

“Well, I want to pay off my debt first…”

“Obviously.” He said with a laugh. “I mean fun stuff.” You smiled sadly, staring at your shoes.

“Honestly? I’ve been in survival mode for so long now I haven’t thought about fun stuff since I was young.” You paused a beat, glancing back up at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bum you out.” He just shrugged.

“That’s ok, I know what you mean. But you should. Think of something fun, I mean. Might help you get through this.” You couldn’t fault his logic, but it took you a minute before you could remember anything.

“When I was a kid, I read about the Bahamas being a magical place where there were black and pink sand beaches, and that you could swim with pigs in the sea there… it sounded so peaceful and picturesque. I think I’d like to visit one day.”

“That sounds amazing…” he replied, wistfully looking at the ceiling. You were keeping watch together, your team peacefully sleeping under the beds behind you, and the silence their absence left seemed to be goading you to keep talking.

“We could go together. A few weeks, no stress, just sunbathing and swimming and…” It had slipped out before you could stop it, and you could feel the sentiment bouncing around the room, loud and weighty. There was a charged moment of silence, his eyes drifting from the ceiling to you, scanning your face for signs of insincerity. He wouldn’t find any.

“That would be perfect.” You smiled in relief, but it was short lived, both of you whipping your heads to the door frantically as you heard a knocking echo in the dark space. You found the source of the noise quickly though - Players 120 and 149 requesting to use the bathroom. You watched the scene play out quietly, smiling at the older woman’s dramatic display as they were finally let through by the guards, and the space fell into a stifling silence once again.

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?”

“We.” He corrected you quickly, and you blushed.

“Fine, when we get out of here.” He paused, fiddling with the collar of his jacket and pulling it up to cover the lower half of his face, fingers twirling the zip as he pulled his knees to his chest.

“I want to take you to see my hometown. My family still live there, and I know my sisters would love you. They could even teach you gonggi too, if you wanted.” A tear fell to your cheek, the tenderness of it all hitting you quickly. “Maybe buy a little place there and one in Seoul, so I can visit them as much as I want. Spend weekends by the water there. Not as exciting as the Bahamas, granted…” You rested your head on his shoulder, blinking back the tears and swallowing hard to clear the emotion from your voice. It didn’t work.

“That would be perfect.”

It scared you how much you trusted him so quickly. It hadn’t even been two days and you found yourself daydreaming of a future with him. A future where you didn’t have to do shit like this for money. A future where you both found good jobs, earning enough to keep you comfortable. A future where you could start over with the help of the money you earned here. A future worth living for. You’d always been sceptical, but maybe trauma bonding was a real thing after all.

“Dae-ho?” A sleepy voice behind you muttered, and you both turned to see Gi-hun shuffling out from beneath the one of the beds. You had all decided to make doubles when you were setting up earlier with the bunks that were already next to each other, sliding two mattresses together and having a buddy to make it safer, Jung-bae opting to sleep alone in shame. Young-il followed him out, yawning dramatically and rubbing his eyes. “You guys have been up for a long time, let us swap out for a while.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, but Young-il yawning had set you off, following suit even though you tried to suppress it. They just gave you that look dads use instead of saying ‘I told you so’. “Yeah, yeah, ok fair enough.”

Dae-ho shuffled in first, and you followed. It was cramped, sure, but there was just enough room for you to sleep on your side or turn over, so you didn’t feel claustrophobic. As you made your way in, you realised how dark it was, evidenced by the fact you only found where Dae-ho was when you bumped into him, your arm pressing into his. A few moments passed and you stayed like that, finding comfort in the warmth he provided you with, and the soft sound of his breathing. Then you felt it. One of his fingers delicately tracing a line up the back of your hand. Your breath hitched, then evened out as the patterns he drew soothed you, and you couldn’t stop your head from lulling towards him to rest on his shoulder once more. Wordlessly, he withdrew his arm from beside yours and slid it underneath your neck, his hand falling to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer without being forceful. You allowed him to move you however he wanted, following his guidance and twisting until you were on your side, letting your leg drape over his and your hand fall to his chest. Your head ended up nestled into his neck as his arm kept tightening around you, hand eventually resting on your waist. You settled further into him with a contented sigh, his other hand meeting yours and enveloping it, the warmth and comfort alongside the rise and fall of his chest almost sending you straight to sleep.

It was a few minutes before you heard him speak, and even then you couldn’t be sure it was real. You were so close to drifting off, and his voice was barely audible, lips ghosting across your scalp.

“Promise me…” he whispered, quiet and vulnerable, “that we’ll make it out of here?” He sounded so broken. You lifted your entwined hands to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles that you hoped conveyed reassurance before tucking your joined hands close to your body.

“I promise.” His own lips found themselves on your forehead, the lightness of the touch leaving your skin tingling and a content blush fanning across your cheeks. His hands squeezed yours tighter as exhaustion began to pull you under, and all you could think was how badly you’d fucked yourself over. That even if you somehow made it out of this place, if it was without him, it would feel worthless.

"Goodnight, kind angel."

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle from Hell (2)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: After the events of PART ONE, Robin goes shoe shopping; Steve's mental health is in shambles; Nancy is trying to save her relationship; you're feeling lost; and Eddie is trying to be the bigger person.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots

A/N: Thank you all so so much for all the love you have been showing to part one. You all had me so motivated to write this next part for you. I never manage to get things written this quickly, it's insane. So much appreciation to you all who took the time to read and let me know how you liked it- the comments and reblogs mean so much to me! Thank you!

Please let know who you think our girl should end up with ;)

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

You didn’t ever think about a future in which you didn’t feel the way you felt about Steve. It was something that you always viewed as this absolute truth. It was unavoidable. The sun would rise and fall and you would love Steve Harrington. But now, the world feels like it’s crashed, burned and raised from the ashes. A new reality- a new future to be written. Maybe, just maybe, you would see a future for yourself without Steve. It was such a simple thought- but you couldn’t have seen it before.

While you’re coming to terms with your new reality that Eddie tore open with both hands, Steve feels the weight of the crash all around him. It’s everywhere, more specifically, you’re everywhere. He felt like he’s lost everything. In her reconciliation with Jonathan, Nancy pulled Steve aside that night and said she thought it best if they don’t hang out for awhile. He nodded, jaw tightened, but he understood. 

Eddie isn’t not talking to him, but there’s awkward tension in the apartment. They both pretend that it isn’t there but the air is thick with it. The proverbial beans have been spillt. Eddie’s in love with you, and Steve shouldn’t care about it as much as he does. Eddie goes about his days padding around the house. He’ll strum guitar and clean the kitchen and go on like nothing happened. Steve’s been avoiding him, not knowing at all what to say. There isn’t anything to say- not really. But still, the walls between them are undeniably there. 

Robin is all Steve has to confide in right now, telling her all about how he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past few weeks since the night of what they’ve been calling “the incident.” He tells her everything- his confusion in his feelings towards you, the way he misses his friendship with Nancy, his irrational harbouring resentment toward Eddie. He tells her all of it. She listens and doesn’t judge- well, maybe she does judge. But, it’s coming from a place of love! 

“What do you think?” she asks, stomping around in circles. She looks down at the new Adidas on her feet, thinking about how dirty the white sneakers are going to get almost immediately. Steve is sitting on the little bench in the shoe store with his head in his hands. “I hate them,” she complains, “I hate new shoes. I hate buying jeans. It all sucks.”

Like a parent would, Steve leans down and presses his fingertips down on the toe of the shoe. “These are too small,” he points out. He turns to the box at his side, handing her the next size up. “These will probably feel better.” She snatches the show from his hand, kicking off the pair she’s wearing. 

“Fucking Munson,” she scoffs. “New fucking shoes,” she mutters, bending over to slide the next pair on. Steve smirks to himself when he sees the relief wash over Robin’s face. It’s the undeniable look of pure comfort. “Oh,” she says shyly, “these feel really nice.” 

“What am I gonna do?” he asks, disheartened looking up at Robin. She sighs, pushing the empty box next to him on the floor so she can take its place. 

“What do you want?” she asks, “Do you actually like her?”

“I might,” he admits, “I don’t know! I haven’t thought about her that way before. I could see it, maybe.”

“I don’t think you should do anything,” Robin advises, “Just sort out all the shit in your head. You are only just beginning to let yourself get over Nancy- jumping into a mess between your best friends is not the thing to do right now. Sort yourself out- get some Vitamin D, eat a vegetable- do something besides sit in your room and sulk.” 

“I’m here now,” he tries to argue and Robin scoffs. 

“You’re here cause you ran out of excuses when you kept cancelling on me,” Robin points out. She looks at her feet one more time. She then looks to Steve with a look of absolute utter defeat. “I think I’m gonna get these.” She gets up and kicks them off. Steve watches as she puts them back in the box. “I’m not gonna wear them around Eddie though,” she says with a scoff, heading towards the register like she got the one up on him. 

Eddie remembers the first time he saw you. He’d been reflecting back on it a lot the past few weeks after everything that has happened. He’s having trouble wrapping his head around how he got from there to here. What was a innocent high school crush has blossomed into such an intense love that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The feeling is almost too big for him to carry- which is probably the reason for his outburst that night. 

It has been Eddie’s junior year, making it your sophomore year. You’d been in the drama club and occasionally rehearsal would run late- meaning Hellfire would start late since they used the Theater room as well. Usually, Drama Club rehearsed Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday- making the room available for Hellfire on Friday. However, as productions got closer to the opening night, theater kids and band geeks would end up flocking to the room for Hell Week- extra rehearsals, last minute set adjustments, all running out the clock to the big night. It would run into Fridays, pushing Hellfire back despite Eddie reserving the room. The one thing he actually did to follow the rules. 

You felt ridiculous in your costume. Your Juliet dress had you sticking out when you weren’t in the midst of the sets and reciting your lines. The long fabrics of the Renaissance inspired costume followed behind you as you darted from one side of the school to the other. You needed last minute fixes to the hem of your dress and the veil of your head crown. You only a few minutes before you were expected at rehearsal, left with no choice to run from the home ec classroom to the theater. 

Eddie and the rest of Hellfire stood begrudgingly behind the stage, too stubborn to find another location for their meeting. He swears that you ran by him in slow motion to make your cue. Like a runaway bride from his fantasy novels, it was like you were plucked from one of his fantasies and graced his world with your presence. He was enamored. You looked exactly like a princess. He didn’t realize he’d been staring until Gareth had elbowed him to snap him out of it. He knew from that moment when he looks back, he was in love with you. He rubbed his ribs where he was struck and stayed hidden backstage to watch the whole performance. 

Steve can’t even remember the first time you met. You were something that was always there, and something he’s realized now that he’s taken for granted. You remember, you remember it all. It was still so vivid to you. It was a start to your everything. 

Kindergarten was an overwhelming experience for Steve. Specifically drop-off, but he doesn’t remember now. You remember waiting with your mom and you held her hand tightly, while you waited for your teacher to escort you and your new classmates into school. You noticed Steve, across the play yard, but your head tilted in confusion that he was without a grown-up to send him off. 

You immediately shook yourself free from your moms embrace and skipped confidently over to the little boy. 

“Do you wanna be best friends?” You asked abruptly, it was all you needed. The simplicity of making friends when your six is a beautiful thing. He nodded, and you took his hand in yours so he didn’t walk in alone. The two of you were inseparable ever since. Until high school rolled around and changed everything. 

The Steve you knew was different than the Steve that ruled the halls of Hawkins High back in the day. When it was the two of you, it was like how it always was. But at school, it was like he was an entirely new person. Reinvented and repackaged, King Steve’s reign was legend. Had it not killed you a little inside, you’d have been impressed. 

Nancy offered to get lunch together with you shortly after the incident. She valued your friendship and wanted to clear the air. You felt the same. Your feelings towards Steve never hindered how highly you thought of Nancy. The two of you became friends amidst the era of King Steve, shortly before they began dating. 

“I wanted you to know that had I known,” Nancy says, stirring the milk in her coffee, “I would have never went out with Steve.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty, Nance,” you reassure her. “You liked him and he liked you back, of course you guys should have dated. I don’t resent that- I just… I don’t know.” 

“I don’t want this to affect us,” she reiterates.

“It won’t, it hasn’t- honestly,” you reply sincerely. “I never hated you. I can’t lie and say I wasn’t very jealous- because I was, still am a little maybe. It wasn’t because of you- it was just because it wasn’t me.” 

“I understand,” she comforts you. You both share a smile and you appreciate her for coordinating this sit down. It felt good to confide in her. It was something you shouldn’t have bottled up and dealt with alone. Talking with Nancy felt like taking breaths of fresh air. 

You’d walked home after lunch, declining Nancy’s offer for a ride. The cafe was close enough to your and Robin’s apartment that you could manage without getting too cold. Trudging up the front steps, you had your hood up to keep yourself warmer. It also hindered your vision so you didn’t see the figure on the front porch swing until you were right at your front door. 

“Steve?” You ask, taken aback. You didn’t expect to see him- though you supposed he’d be wanting to talk about it all eventually. You sigh, bracing yourself for the one conversation you absolutely did not want to have. 

“Hey,” he shivers, keeping his hands bunched into his jacket plackets. 

“Come on up,” you offer, unlocking your front door. He graciously accepts, darting in out of the cold as fast as possible. He had to have been waiting awhile. “Robin is at work right now, but you can wait for her,” you say, as you both make it to the top of the stairs to your third floor apartment. 

“I came to see you, actually,” he admits. 

“I was afraid of that,” you joke, and it makes you a little happy when he chuckles. You both know how hard this conversation is going to be. 

You both shrug off your warm layers and leave them in the entry way. You kick off your boots and shove your hat and gloves into the sleeve of your jacket. You try your best to tame your hair. You walk with your arms crossed and take a seat on your couch. Steve tentatively follows and sits on the opposite end. You both sit in uncomfortable silence for what felt like ages. 

“How long?” He finally asks, and you can’t help but cringe. It felt so impersonal, and like a subtle attack. Like you were in the wrong for keeping something from him. He sounds hurt. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh, your face in your hands. “Probably at least since we were in like second grade, maybe.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he questions, and you feel dejected. 

“I don’t know- maybe cause you dated someone new constantly,” you accuse, flipping it back to him. You weren’t going to take the blame for this. “When we got to high school, you pursued so many girls- you were on a date every weekend! When did you expect me to say when you showed interest in literally everyone but me? Do you expect me to say I should’ve said something when you were with Nancy?” 

“No… shit, I don’t know,” he mumbles. He had no right to be upset, you resolved. “I just, I feel bad that you didn’t think you could tell me.” 

“I couldn’t risk losing you,” you admitted. “I’d much rather be heartbroken with you in my life than heartbroken without you.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and he’s not sure why he’s suddenly so quiet. “I just- fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” 

You both sit there, quietly, looking anywhere except each other. You bite the inside of your mouth nervously, you don’t know what to say. You notice he’s not saying I was so stupid. I love you, I always have. You’ve learned the hard way by now to not expect that from him. You can’t let your expectations of him dictate the future of your friendship. 

“It’s okay, you know,” you finally say across the silence. “I don’t want you to think this changes anything.” 

This changes everything! He wants to exclaim. You’re right there, closer than you’ve been in weeks. Yet you still feel so far away, so unattainable. He feels as though you’re treating him like a stranger, and he hates feeling like this. 

“I’m not in love with Nancy,” he confesses. “I thought it was what I wanted, but now I don’t know what I want.” 

“Don’t give me false hope to make me feel better, Steve,” you sigh. “That’s not fair.” 

Robin bursts through the door in a whirlwind of chaos. She’s shedding her layers as she recounts a terrible interaction she had with a customer at work. She kicks off her Adidas, not bothering to put them in the shoe rack and she lets her jacket lay on the floor for now. 

“Anyways, this guy starts yelling at me because he didn’t like Risky Business like I wrote and starred in the damn thing so I’m like ‘Sir, I didn’t make the movie’  and then he gets he gets even more pissed that won’t give him a free rental. I can’t do that! What makes him think I can just wave a magic wand a pull a perk like that out of my- oh fuck. H-hey Steve…. I didn’t know you were here.” 

He stands up abruptly, “I was just leaving.” Before either you or Robin have a chance to say anything else. He’s stumbling over putting on his shoes and falling into his jacket on the his way quickly out the door. 

“What the hell was that?” Robin asks, turning to you. 

“I have no idea.” You say earnestly. 

“He’s so fucking stupid I swear to god,” she rolls her eyes and heads past you into the kitchen. She decided to keep her commentary at that. You escape to your room so you can process what the hell just happened. 

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Steve hits his palms against his steering wheel in frustration. “SHIT!” 

He completely fucked that up. 

When you had a problem of this measure that bothered you, you’d call Steve. Or, you’d call Eddie. Neither option is one you felt was viable right now. You didn’t want to annoy Robin with it anymore than you’d had already- you’re sure she’s sick of everyone going to her. You have a bad habit of assuming you’re a burden when your anxiety spikes like this. 

“Hey, Nance. I, uh, was just calling to-“

“Steve, please- we talked about this.” 

He knew this was going to happen. But he couldn’t stop himself as he dialed her number. He knew he was supposed to stay away and give her and Jonathan space. How is he supposed to move on when he lost the one person he could call to talk about this? Steve felt Nancy understood him better than anyone- or at least at one point she did. 

She hangs up before Steve gets a chance to say anything. He drops the receiver back onto the base. He lays back on the couch and takes some slow breaths. He can’t imagine that you all ended up here. After everything you all survived, this is what’s pulling you all apart. 

Why the fuck did he call Nancy? Deep down he knows he wants to just talk to you but he just can’t right now. His brain is too congested with everything that’s come to light and it’s all such a scary, unfamiliar plane. Nancy is his familiar- it’s what he knows. He’s realizing maybe he didn’t actually pine for Nancy but instead he was yearning for that stability he once felt. He’s mourning the time for when it felt like he had absolutely everything. 

It hits him all at once- like a huge wave that knocks you out when you’re bracing yourself to jump. He wanted it all back- fucking King Steve. Not the parties and the fucking assholes. He wanted to feel that way again. He wanted how he felt when he had a girlfriend who loved him and close friends he could walk the halls with. He missed when his life felt easy and he missed how easy it feels now compared to this. He wanted his life back- it wasn’t Nancy that he wanted- not really. He wanted to feel that way again and he was mourning his youth despite the imperfections. 

He thought of you again, as he turned his body to stare at the phone. He knows he should call, and do his best to make you feel better. He needed you to understand that he understands so much more now than he did. The bigger picture is revealing itself more to him and he actually fucking gets it. Out of everything that has changed, you never did. It all feels so painfully obvious now. How could he have not seen it? 

“Sup, man,” Eddie says casually, coming home from work. Taking off his jacket reveals that his coveralls are covered in a huge grease stain. Kicking off his work boots, he doesn’t wait for Steve to reply as he heads to the bathroom to shower. “You wanna get Chinese tonight?” he calls from the other room. Steve gulps and sits up, trying to shake himself out of it. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.”  

A few minutes later, Eddie emerges from the bathroom and steam from his shower wafts out into the hallway. 

“We’re good, right?” Eddie asks. He wants to say yes. Eddie did nothing wrong and Steve deep down knows it. He knows his resentment he’s harbouring is completely unfair- but it is running down to his core. 

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Steve says, trying his best to fake it. They aren’t good. Steve doesn’t know if they’d ever be good. Eddie knows it too. He knows Steve too well to know that he isn’t actually good. Eddie doesn’t fight it.

“I’ll get over it,” Eddie said. “Well, that’s a fucking lie. But, I can tell myself I can get over it.” Steve looks at him, confused. “If you and her want to be together, if you like her back- I’ll step down.”

“Why are you even saying that?”

“Because I want her to be happy more than anything else, and if I’m not that guy- I’m just getting in the way of that,” he confesses, and Steve can hear the hurt in his friend’s voice. “If you actually want to go for it- I’m not what’s stopping you, man.” 

The phone breaks through the solemn moment the two of them share. Eddie looks to Steve and Steve shrugs before picking up the receiver. 

“Hello?” He says, and he smiles to himself as he recognizes the voice on the other end. Then, Eddie watches as his friend’s face falls again- all in a brief few seconds. “It’s for you,” he says, dropping the receiver on the table for Eddie to get. Steve disappears down the hall and seeks refuge in his room.

“Hey,” Eddie says, bringing the phone to his ear. 

“Hey, it’s me,” he hears you say. Suddenly, Steve’s reaction makes a lot of sense. 

TAGLIST: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt

[souljahwwitch]

hiii are u willing to write thanos head canons sfw or nsfw whichever you’d like i love your fics btw your writing is chef kisses ^_^

I LUV IT!

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ some random thanos sfw and nsfw hc’s <3

(no squid game in this)

SFW!<3

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ i think thanos is actually (at least before the squid game) a pretty chill guy, but he defo thinks getting with you was his best decision, he loves having you on his arm looking like a dream while people chase him for autographs

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ thanos loves purposely making you try on his clothes, the baggy low rise pants that practically fall off you, and some random shirts that say some stupid shit like “I ❤️ CHIEF KEEF!” he cant help himself, he just thinks you look so adorable and so damn funny

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ whenever he’s with his friends he talks about you, constantly “yeah bro, she’s a sweetheart—and don’t get me started on how beautiful she is.”

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ thanos’s friends know you as ‘thanos’s pretty girl’ when they mention you they always say it like that, because it’s the truth—you are his pretty girl

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ what thanos loves the most is smoking some weed with you, he never wants you to actually get addicted, you’re his angel after all, but he loves it when you two sit alone—his hand stroking your hair as you look up at him with those red rimmed doe eyes

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ everytime you two smoke thanos has to take a picture, you’re just too beautiful to him!!!!!!???!!! the picture is either you looking up at the phone with your pretty eyes, his tattoed hand on your cheek—sometimes you on his lap, with nothing but his shirt and underwear, smiling prettily

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ i think thanos would love shy girls, a great balance for him—so when he found you all pretty and shy like that, he was over the moon



ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ he loves to tease you for it, he does something to purposely get you flustered and of course he has to act cocky after

“what’s the matter, dollface? don’t tell me you’re embarrassed, aww look at you” with every one of his words his smirk gets bigger

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ he crumbles completely when he sees that you’re crying, he hates seeing you cry—sure he thinks you look positively angelic while doing so, but he can’t stand the thought of you hurting

“c’mon sweetheart talk to me, what’s got you this upset? need me to beat someone up? y’know i’d do anything”

NSFW!<3

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ yeah, he likes it rough, likes it when you’re helpless—compared to him, you’re innocent, and he loves showing you the ropes but teasing you for it

“thanos d-dunno—dunno how to, can you help me, pleasepleaseplease?” you say between whimpers, he had you on his lap, making you ride him but you didn’t have the strength that he does:(

“c’mon, angel you know how to, unless you need me to take over, hm? just say the word and quit being a stubborn brat.” cocky mf, he says all that, a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ loves watching you squirm, you’re just to sensitive, so loud—he doesn’t hold back from making you whimper and whine, especially when his friends are just a room beside, same friends that want a piece of you—but he’ll never let them have you :)

(sorry for not writing much for nsfw 😭😭 i’m new to this so i’m not used to writing smut, but still thank you for your support!!)

[becertainlust]

doctor!law who always maintains his stoic professionalism with every patient—except when it comes to you. He insists it’s “just routine” that he visits you so frequently, ensuring your health is progressing as it should.

Morning rounds start with him pulling up a chair beside your bed, his amber eyes scanning your chart with precision. But even as his hands work with practiced ease, the way his thumb lingers on the edge of the clipboard suggests something more. His voice is low but gentle, asking how you slept, what you ate, and how you’re feeling, as though he’s committing every detail to memory.

At night, long after visiting hours have ended, his familiar silhouette appears in the doorway of your hospital room. He claims he’s just finishing his notes or double-checking the evening staff’s updates. Yet, somehow, he always ends up seated beside you, shoulders relaxing as you talk about your day. You notice the faint smirk tugging at his lips when you tease him about working too hard.

The truth is, Law tells himself he’s just being thorough. That it’s his job to ensure his patients feel cared for. But deep down, he knows no one else has ever drawn him in quite like you—no other voice has ever made him want to stay so desperately beyond his hours.

doctor!law who doesn’t do sentiment. At least, that’s what he claims, his sharp gaze and sharper tongue scaring off most patients from ever trying to get too familiar. But when it comes to you, it’s different—not that he’d ever admit it.

“You’ve been sitting around too much,” he says one afternoon, his voice cutting through the soft hum of your hospital room. “Come on.”

Before you can protest, he’s helping you to your feet with that infuriating air of calm authority. You don’t miss the way his hand lingers a moment longer than necessary, steadying you like he’s worried you might topple over.

“I didn’t ask for a walk,” you mutter as he leads you down the hall.

He doesn’t even look at you, his pace deliberate but not rushed. “And I didn’t ask for a stubborn patient, but here we are.”

The courtyard is quiet, bathed in golden afternoon light. Law doesn’t bother making small talk as you stroll—he’s never been one for unnecessary chatter. But his sharp eyes track every step you take, scanning you for even the slightest sign of discomfort.

“Stop pushing yourself,” he orders when you quicken your pace, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“You’re such a control freak,” you tease, trying to coax a reaction out of him.

His lips twitch, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through his usual scowl. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

Despite his gruff demeanor, there’s a strange comfort in his presence. He doesn’t fill the silence with platitudes or false cheer—he just is, his calm steadiness grounding you in a way nothing else can.

When the walk ends, and he’s escorting you back to your room, he slows, his voice softer now. “If you feel worse later, tell me. Don’t wait until morning rounds.”

“Do you always go this far for your patients?” you ask, half-joking.

He gives you a sidelong glance, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “No,” he says simply. “I don’t.”

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you wondering if you imagined the faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he walked away.

doctor!law who doesn’t entertain nonsense. That’s the image he maintains in the hospital’s halls and the workers’ lounge. The moment someone brings up the whispers about him and his favorite patient, he scoffs, eyes narrowing as if the very idea irritates him.

“Ridiculous,” he mutters, flipping a page in the medical journal he’s not really reading.

But when no one’s looking, his ears strain to catch the next part of the conversation.

“Did you see how he was walking with them in the courtyard yesterday? They looked so comfortable together,” one nurse says, voice filled with barely contained glee.

Another one chimes in, “Right? And the way he always stays late in their room? If that’s not a crush, I don’t know what is.”

Law’s fingers tighten around the edges of his book, his lips pressing into a thin line. Anyone watching would think he’s annoyed—but the faint flush creeping up his neck tells a different story.

“I’m sure they’re just being professional,” someone offers cautiously, only for another nurse to laugh. “Oh, please. That man has never gone out of his way for anyone like he does for them. He practically lives in their room.”

Law clears his throat loudly, snapping the room’s attention back to him. “If you have time to gossip, you have time to work,” he says, his tone sharp enough to cut through the air.

The nurses scatter, muttering apologies, and he goes back to pretending to read. But later, when he’s alone, he catches himself smirking faintly, replaying the words in his head.

He tells himself it’s absurd, that people are just reading too much into things. Yet, when he sees you later that evening and you joke about the “rumors,” he doesn’t deny them outright.

Instead, he leans against the doorframe of your room, arms crossed, a teasing glint in his amber eyes. “Apparently, I’m the topic of the day in the lounge. Care to explain why everyone thinks I’m obsessed with you?”

You raise a brow, smirking. “Maybe because you kind of are?”

He scoffs, though the tips of his ears turn red. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. If I’m here, it’s because you’re clearly a magnet for trouble. Someone has to keep you in check.”

But when he catches a glimpse of your smile and hears your laughter, he thinks, Maybe they’re not entirely wrong.

[spidercat2099]

Nanami single dad au

Fluff-ish, Nanami’s sweet as hell in this

The blond man in the office always kept to himself. He was a hard worker and hardly talked to any of the other coworkers unless it was necessary. That's why, when you asked him out, he was in utter shock. Why would you want to go out with him out of all people? He asked himself.

He didn't say no though. His eyebrows raised and he asked you to clarify that you were actually asking him out.

"It's alright if you don't want to-" You began, but he cut you off quickly.

"No, no." His hands waved you down. "I'm..." He thought for a bit before speaking again. "I'm free Friday night. How does 7:30 sound?" He asked.

"I would like that." You responded, a slight smile tugging on your lips as you were excited he accepted. You were already picking out your clothes and looking for a new makeup look to impress him.

...

You'd been out with Kento for a couple of months already. It seemed like things were going well until he put on a serious face and cleared his throat.

"Miss y/n, I have to be honest with you on something." he began to say.

Your heart began to beat quickly from anticipation. You were worried it would be something bad. "Go ahead." You nod.

"I've enjoyed spending time with you, but it has been selfish of me to keep this going without telling you the truth." It seemed like he felt really guilty as he looked down at his clasped hands on the table. But if he enjoyed time with you, what could be wrong?

"I... I have a kid." He said as he looked up at you through his glasses.

Your eyes widened. You hadn't really expected him to be a father. "A... a kid?" You blink.

"I assume you wouldn't have known that before you even asked me out. I understand it's not a situation any woman would be willing to jump into. So, I wouldn't fault you for deciding to not go out with me again."

You begin to think, was there a sign you missed? Was it obvious? Wait... does he have a wife? You snap out of your thoughts. "And your wife?" you asked, not realizing how blunt you sounded.

His face shot up at the blunt question. "She... she passed away..." He looked away, now having a solemn look on his face. "Like I said, I understand if you don't want to continue-"

"Do you have pictures?" you asked leaning forward a bit. His eyebrows raised in the middle.

"Pictures?" He asked.

"O-Of the kid... how old are they?" His hand hesitantly pulled out his phone. He wasn't sure what this meant.

"His name's Yuji. He's 3 years old. He's a troublemaker but he's a good kid." He looked through his photo app for that album he had of Yuji. You could tell he was proud to have him as he showed you the pictures, telling you the backstory of each.

If you didn't already have a fat crush on this man, you definitely did now. The way he smiled at his kid was too cute.

When he finished showing you the pictures, he set his phone down and sighed. "I... appreciate you being this kind to me. But as I said, I don't expect you to want to jump into this situation. You're a young beautiful girl who I'm sure will find a man who doesn't have someone else's kid. It's a big burden-"

"Kento..." You cut him off. You didn't want to hear him be so somber on his "situation". Especially when you think about how proud he is of his kid and how hard he must work for him.

"I... I like you a lot. You having a kid isn't some kind of burden. We're both adults."

"I know that, I just don't want you to force yourself into a role you're not ready for just because you want to be with me."

"You're not forcing me to do anything." you grab his hand. "I'm deciding I still want to go out with you."

"You... you are?" He seemed touched but also in disbelief. You nod. You always knew how to surprise him. He wanted to believe it. That you were different, maybe that you were even the one that he was meant to be with. You were perfect. That's why he hadn't told you sooner, he wanted to hold on to that fantasy a bit longer. But he knew he still had to be realistic. After all, you could change your mind at any point.

Later that night, he drove you home. He opened the car door for you as you stepped out. He leaned onto the car slightly as he looked at you. "You're a very lovely lady, y/n..."

You smiled, getting closer to him as you adjusted his already neat tie. "And you're a very lovely gentleman, Kento." Your hand then flattened against his chest as your eyes made their way up to his. His head was tilted looking down at you.

Slowly, you came closer and his hand came up to rest on your waist. Your lips slowly join together with his. For a second, you pull back, just to join them again but with a bit more passion. Your hand made its way to the base of his neck as he pulled you closer. It was getting harder to leave it as just a kiss goodbye.

You wanted him. And you wanted him bad. Your breaths mingled together as your heads tilted every so often to deepen the kiss. Hid hand couldn't help but make it's way down your waist, close enough to grab your-

Beep, beep.

His phone rang and he pulled it out. He breathed heavily as he read the message. "That's... the babysitter." He explained before putting it away. "I'm sorry. I have to go." His eyebrows tilted up in the middle, feeling guilty once again for cutting things so short.

You breathe out. "It's... it's alright. Don't worry about it." You step back a bit to allow him to leave. He wasn't sure but he knew it could very well be the last time you both go out, regardless of what you said. You could've just been trying to be nice and just let him down easy later or decided to ghost him. And he didn't like that this was how the night had to end.

...

Things had gone normally for the next few weeks. You'd talk to him whenever you could at work, spend breaks together, and go out on the weekends. It seemed like things were going well.

Then, one day. He saw you at your desk while some guy leaned over it and spoke to you. He looked like he was closer to your age. And he had you laughing.

Kento wasn't a jealous person, but for some reason, he felt a pang in his heart. Like you could be taken from him at any moment and his fantasy would go down the drain. Especially when he though that's what you deserved. A guy your age who you could decide to have a family with.

Instead of walking over to say hi to you like usual, he just passed by to go to his own desk. You hadn't even noticed, since you'd been busy talking to the other guy.

Later in the day, Kento heard your voice call to him. He looked up from his computer to see you standing next to him. "Hey..." He said with a soft smile.

"Hey... I know we usually go out on Friday's but I'll have to cancel today." His heart had that same feeling again. Could it be that you realized you'd be better off without him? That the other guy was better? Maybe you'd decided to go out with him instead.

"Oh..." He said, his eyes looking away from you now. That's the one thing he always looked forward to after work.

"It's not anything serious, I just-" Then your watch began to ring. You had a meeting to go to, just sparing a minute to talk to Kento. "Sorry, I'll talk to you after the shift, okay?" You said as you left.

Kento wanted to tell you he was leaving early. The daycare only had a half day today. Of course, you wouldn't have known that. You don't have a kid, you wouldn't keep track of when schools are open. So he decided to text it to you, seeing as he won't see you that day at all. He'd have to wait until you texted him back, or until Monday to see you again.

But you never did. Not that day. Not the rest of the weekend. Was he right? You were ghosting him? Were you that type of girl?

...

On Sunday, he went to the grocery store with Yuji. It was raining, but they were in desperate need of food. So he just zipped up Yuji in a cute yellow jacket, carrying him in one arm as his other hand carried an umbrella over both of them.

It wasn't anything special as he walked around the store with Youji's hand holding his. Except, he couldn't stop thinking of you and what you were doing. Why you hadn't responded to any of his texts. He'd read a can and slowly get distracted by those thoughts until Yuji pulled on his hand because he got bored of that aisle.

After long enough, he picked up Yuji again, the other hand full of groceries and the umbrella. As he turned he saw... you.

He froze for a second, unsure if it was his imagination. You didn't live on this side of town, why would you be at the grocery store here?

"Papa, are you gonna move?" Yuji asked, poking Kento's face. "Y-Yeah, we'll go home."

When you heard that familiar voice, you looked up. His eyes widened as he realized it was truly you. You were wet, with nothing but a sweater on to protect you from the rain. No umbrella, no jacket. Just the awning of the store you stood under.

"Kento?" You called out. Yuji looked at you too, unsure of what was going on. Why was it so quiet? He just wanted to go home.

"Who's that?" He asked, pointing in your direction. "She's... a friend from work." You weren't fond of that response, but you knew how careful Kento had to be when the relationship hadn't even been established yet.

You were endeared by Yuji. He was even cuter in person. "Oh my God is that Yuji?" you got closer pinching his chubby cheeks gently. "Aren't you the most adorable thing ever?" Yuji definitely enjoyed the attention. He was giggling a lot.

"He likes you..." Kento said as he looked at his son's expression. "What are you doing on this side of town? You don't live near here." He couldn't help but feel curious.

"I left my phone at the office and the boss said I'd only be able to pick it up today. Halfway through walking here, it started to pour, can you believe that?" Your eyebrows furrowed as you frowned.

"Bad luck, huh?" he said, trying to keep it light although he was slightly upset with you.

"Don't get me started." You looked at him with a frustrated expression, but it also felt aimed at him for some reason? But he couldn't tell why you'd be upset with him.

You held your own arms to keep yourself warm again as you turned your body away from him. "My house isn't too far from here, we should get you out of this rain." He moved his umbrella so you'd be under it too.

"Fine." Although you were upset, you couldn't deny you were freezing, and the office was still a long walk from here.

The walk home was quiet and Yuji had fallen asleep in Kento's arm. As he grabbed his key and began to unlock the door, he began to say "I would've invited you here on better circumstances, but-"

"It's fine." You said, not bothering to sweeten up your tone.

He took that as a sign that you were upset and didn't push any further. He led you in. "I'll be back in a second, I'll just go put Yuji down."

You stood by the door, sopping wet. You didn't sit down, as to not wet his couch.

He came back with some clothes in his hand, presumably for you to change into. He chuckled lightly as he looked at your usually perfectly styled hair frizzing up into curls. "Curly hair?" he asked as his hand picked up a strand an grazed it. It was funny to him that you two had been seeing each other for a while and he didn't know until now.

You turn away, your hair falling from his grasp.

"Miss y/n, I can't help but feel you're upset with me."

"Why wouldn't I be upset?" You said as you looked up at him.

"I don't know. You haven't told me. If anything I'm the one who should be upset with you." His own eyebrows furrowed at your hostility.

"Upset with me? You blew me off on Friday." You defend.

"Blew you off? You said you were busy."

"I meant when I was going to explain why I was busy. I waited for you but you didn't show. Next thing I know, the boss tells me you left early and you didn't even bother telling me?"

"I did. I texted you. Several times actually, and you didn't respond to any of them. I understand I told you that you're not obligated to continue going out with me but I had at least expected you to tell me." His eyebrows tilted upward again. You could tell he was just upset but hurt too.

"That's not it at all! I was not ghosting you if that's what you think." You defend quickly.

"You... weren't? Then why didn't you send a text back?" He asked, his shoulders relaxing just a bit.

"My phone had broken at the office and I wanted to go get it fixed on Friday, that's why I said I couldn't go on the date with you." You explained.

"That's why... you didn't get my message..." He realized. His hand runs through his hair in relief. You hadn't changed your mind.

"Why would you think I'd ghost you?" You asked, crossing your arms. Just a bit shaky from the cold.

"You're freezing, miss y/n. You should go take a shower and change." He lightly guided you to the bathroom.

"Kento, wait. You have to say why you thought that." You turned around to face him when you got into the bathroom. You didn't want him to get away with that. Did he really think you'd do that to him? He thinks you're the type of person to do that after a while of dating?

He sighed putting the clothes on the counter and leaning on the doorframe. "We can discuss it after you shower, okay? I don't want you soaking wet and freezing, you'll catch a cold." His thumb came up to your cheek to lightly caress it. "Please?"

Your cheeks tinged pink and your heart raced. You were still a bit upset but you couldn't help but be touched by him caring for you like that. "Fine," you mumbled, slowly closing the door and starting the shower.

...

You come out of the bathroom, practically swimming in his big clothes. He waited for you on the couch, reading a book in his comfy clothes as well. He looked up at you. "Too big?" He asked, holding back a smile. It was a bit attractive seeing you in his clothes like that.

You scoff, also holding back a smile. "Only cause you're too big." You walked over to sit next to him, not too close. You bit your cheek as you continued to hold your grudge. "So?" You asked, glancing at him. Hinting for him to explain now.

He sighed. "It's not anything against you, y/n. I just... haven't had the best experience with these things. Usually, women run at the first hint of me having a kid. That's why I gave up dating for a while. And when I saw you with that guy, I thought you might've changed your mind..."

You raise an eyebrow. "That guy?" You had to recollect your memories to figure out what he was talking about.

"On Friday. He was by your desk and making you laugh and everything. I thought you realized you'd be better off with someone like him."

"You thought I ditched you for him?" You asked, a bit in disbelief. Sure, maybe a different girl would've but... you were head over heels in love with Kento. Some random guy wasn't gonna change that. "That guy... has nothing on you, Kento." You admit. Your hand reached for his. "I told you, I like you a whole lot..." your eyes move from your hand to his face. "Do I not say it enough?"

"Well..." his ears began to heat up. You said it more than enough. "I just thought since we haven't established anything yet, you'd still look for other options. After all that would be fair."

"Are you looking for other options?" you ask.

He shakes his head slowly.

"The only reason there isn't anything established is because you haven't asked for me to establish it." You explain.

"Would... you want that?" he asked, his hand tightening its grip on yours a bit. You nod in a way that says 'duh'. He was usually a smart man, hell, he was the best employee in the company, but for some reason, he always second-guessed himself with this relationship.

He got up, not saying a word as he left. You were left a bit confused, you weren't sure where he went or if he was coming back.

But he came back quickly. He had a bouquet of roses in his hand and a box. Your eyes were wide. "This was meant for last Friday. Unless you'd like me to wait until next Friday. We're not out or well dressed so maybe it's not the best-"

You cut him off again. "What's that for?" You asked, looking at the things in his hand. He sat down next to you. "I was going to ask if you wanted to... be my girlfriend?" He asked. He placed the flowers on the table and handed you the box. "It's a necklace."

You were in shock. You really missed out on a great proposal just cause your phone broke? "Kento, you're so sweet. Of course, I would."

You placed the necklace next to the flowers, kissing him immediately. "I'll... do it again on Friday..." He said between your kisses. You didn't care. All you cared about was him. "New flowers... dinner... I'll ask again... make it special..."

...

You were nestled into Kento's arm as you both watched a movie. Kento fell asleep first. So he didn't notice when Yuji came out of his room searching for him. He dragged his blanket on the floor as he rubbed his eye.

Without a word, he crawled into the space between you both, nuzzling into Kento as he placed his own blanket on himself. You couldn't help but feel this sweet moment was exactly how your life was meant to be.

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Rain Kisses

warning: none, just kissing.

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

READERS’S POV:

“So… you’ve been going out with Hangman”, Penny teased me while we were getting ready for the bar to open on a few hours.

“In my defense, he’s proven he’s not like the others,” I said, laughing like a fool as memories of our last dates came flooding back.

“And what does your dad think about all this?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Come on, Pen,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I’m an adult now. I don’t need my dad’s permission to date whoever I want.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she said, laughing. “Your dad can’t really complain, considering he used to sneak into my room through the window back in the day.”

We both burst out laughing.

“Oh, God, Penny, I don’t want to imagine my dad like that,” I groaned, covering my eyes. “I just hope Hangman doesn’t open his big mouth and say something stupid that’ll get him grounded—or worse, punched by Rooster.”

—————————————-

JAKE’S POV

It had been two days since I last saw Y/N because of work, and I realized something: damn, I missed her. This girl was special.

“Excited to see your girl tonight, Romeo?” Coyote teased as we changed in the locker room.

“More than you know,” I admitted, sounding like some high school kid with his first crush.

“So it’s true, Hangman?” Phoenix chimed in, joining the conversation. “You’ve got the guts to date the boss’s daughter, even with Rooster as her big brother?”

“For God’s sake, it’s not like I’m scared of Chicken,” I said, laughing as I stuffed my dirty clothes into my duffel bag.

“And what does the boss think about all this?” Bob added, sitting on the bench.

“Come on, Bob, we’re not in high school anymore,” Coyote interjected. “I’ll just say it: Hangman hit the jackpot.”

Coyote and Fanboy started clapping like the idiots they were.

“So, how is she, you know, in…?” Fanboy began, smirking like a teenager.

“Watch your mouth, Seresin,” Rooster shouted from across the locker room.

“Relax, Tiger,” Phoenix said quickly. “If she’s Maverick’s daughter, there’s no way she’d let some guy like Bagman get in her pants.”

“I haven’t even kissed her yet,” I admitted with a sigh, slamming my locker shut.

“No way,” Rooster laughed, crossing his arms. “That’s my girl.”

“Not your girl, Chicken,” I corrected. “She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

——————————————

READER’S POV

Friday night, the Hard Deck was packed. I was a little disappointed that the Dagger Squad hadn’t shown up yet. I kept busy serving drinks and passing out bottles of beer when someone called out to me from behind.

“Hey, Y/N,” it was Rooster with his ridiculous mustache.

“Hey, Roo,” I said, stepping out from behind the bar to hug him. “I missed you. Haven’t seen you around lately.”

“That’s because you’ve been busy with Bagman,” he teased, playfully nudging my shoulder. “I don’t know what you did, but you’ve got that idiot wrapped around your finger.”

“I hope you’re talking about me,” said a voice behind Rooster. “Because I hope I’m the only one you’re dating”

“Oh my God, Bagman, that’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard,” Rooster groaned, wrinkling his nose. “Let me know if he gets out of line, Y/N.”

“I will, Roo, don’t worry.” Bradley kissed my forehead before heading off to join the rest of the pilots.

“I hope you and Bradley are telling the truth and there’s nothing more between you two,” Jake said, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles—a gesture he was starting to make a habit.

“Ew, never,” I quickly said, ducking back behind the bar and handing him a beer. “Bradley’s not my type. Besides, I’m more into blondes.”

I leaned on the bar and winked at him.

“God, you’re amazing,” he said, grinning as he took a sip of his beer. “What time does your shift end?”

“Too bad for you, handsome, I’m staying late tonight.”

“No problem. I’ll wait,” he said charmingly, walking over to the pool table.

The rest of the night, I could feel his eyes on me, and every time I caught him staring, he’d smile like an idiot. But eventually, I lost sight of him. Past midnight, Penny let me off since the bar had started to clear out. I grabbed my things and, not seeing Jake or the rest of the Daggers, assumed they’d left. The night was cool, and it looked like it might rain. Great—no jacket or umbrella.

“Hey, you,” Jake’s voice came from where he was leaning against his truck. I jumped, startled, and he chuckled softly.

“God, you scared me,” I said, relieved. “I thought you’d left.”

“I told you I’d wait,” he said, draping his jacket over my shoulders. It smelled like his cologne. “Need a ride?”

“Are you my knight in shining armor?” I teased, looping my arm through his.

“Your carriage awaits, my princess,” he said with an exaggerated bow, opening the door for me—just in time, as the rain started to drizzle.

By the time we reached my house, it was pouring. I was definitely going to get soaked just stepping out of the truck.

“Thanks for the ride, Lieutenant,” I said, leaning in to kiss his cheek as I opened the door.

“Wait!” he said, quickly getting out and running around to my side.

“You’re going to get wet!” I laughed as he grabbed his jacket and held it over us. He took my hand, and we walked to the door, getting drenched anyway.

I slipped on a puddle near the steps, but Jake’s arm shot out, catching me around the waist. We both laughed, soaked to the bone. His hands stayed on my waist, and I wrapped mine around his neck. His eyes locked on mine, and then they dropped to my lips.

“Still want that goodnight kiss?” I asked, biting my lip.

“Hell, yeah,” he breathed.

Without hesitation, I pulled him down to me. His lips were soft, tasting faintly of beer, and fit perfectly against mine. One of his hands moved from my waist to cradle my neck, deepening the kiss.

We pulled apart for air, but he dove back in, kissing me more passionately this time. God, I really liked this man.

“Goodnight, Lieutenant,” came a voice from behind us. My dad stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Goodnight, sir,” Jake said quickly, stepping back and grabbing his jacket to drape it over me again.

“Hi, Dad. We were just…” I stammered, feeling like a teenager caught sneaking in.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see anything, but we’re having a serious conversation tomorrow, Seresin,” my dad said before going back inside.

“Should I be worried?” Jake asked nervously.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it,” I said, smiling like a fool.

I pulled him down for another kiss, his hands gently resting on my hips.

“Goodnight, handsome.”

“Sleep well, beautiful.”

He gave me a quick peck before heading back to his truck. I stayed at the door until he drove off, leaning against it with a ridiculous smile on my face.

“He’d better treat you right, kid,” my dad called from the kitchen.

“Here we go…” I sighed. I knew I was in for a lecture, but Jake—handsome, charming Hangman—was definitely worth it.

[igotanidea]

World's worst wingman: Jason Todd x reader (ft. Dick Grayson)

story borrowed from @gay-dorito-dust, thank you :)

Summary: Dick being Jason's wingman.

***

„Come on, just go do it!”

„No.”

„Why not?”

„Because.”

„Why are you being stubborn? I saw you eyeing her whole night! Seriously, if you keep bringing that face expression on, you will turn into an anime character and-“

Jason groaned and run fingers through his already messed up hair.

For the record – he had no idea that the object of his interest in the form of Y/N would be at this particular club tonight.

Well – maybe a faint idea. Just a vague concept of her whereabouts.

It wasn’t like he stalked her a little, getting to know her favorite places to hang out, her work and her home and the way she was using to commute to ensure its safety.

Definitely not.

But even if he did – there was no regrets in his actions with regards to that.

What he did regret though – was bringing Dick with him to act like some sort of wingman. Stupid. Idiotic. Completely reckless behavior. HE should have known better than that.

Instead of having a chance to talk to her, he was stuck by the table, trying to melt into the plush backrest of the couch behind his back, that happened to be the same color his face was turning into.

Forced to listen to his brother constant babbling how he can’t be such a coward and shy and antisocial and that she seemed to be a nice girl and why won’t Jason just get his ass up and –

“Shut up.” Jason muttered, edging the thin line between behaving and getting a temper tantrum.

“Ohhhh! Is my little Jaybrid getting flustered?” Dick teased, grinning like a madman, deriving almost sadistic pleasure from tormenting his brother.

“I’m getting so many regrets about telling you shit about her.”

“Oh, come on, don’t say it! That’s so not fair! I’m only here to help you, cause with the way you’re acting now I don’t see much chance to succeed in-”

“I’m going to get a drink!” Jason stood up from the table so abruptly that only by miracle it didn’t trip over.

“Oh yeah! That’s the spirit! And while you’re at it, can you bring me one more pina colada?”

It was all just a big fat joke to Dick.

***

“Hey, can I have a beer and a pina colada?” damn the second part of his sentence barely left his throat.

“that;s an unusual mix, istn;t it?” she chuckled grabbing a glass and starting to prepare the drink with learned precision.

“Yeah, it’s not for me – “ Jason stuttered, despite himself “It’s for-“

“Your date?”

“huh?”

“That guy over there?” Y/N pointed towards the Dick, waving at her crazily across the club

“WHAT? He’s not my date! He- he’s my –“ it took a lot of effort from Jason to not address Dick as his prey, but somehow, gulping heavily and clenching fists he managed to calm down. Ish. “-brother. He’s my effing brother.”

“Oh, such a  relief!”

“Relief? Why?”

“Cause it means he’s not gay, huh?”

“Oh…”

Of course she was asking about Dick. How could a girl like her ever pay attention to a guy like Jason?

“Relax, I’m kidding. It’s only because of the drink. I mean – what kind of a man orders pina colada unless he’s playing on the other side of the field or has a particularly nasty sense of humor, right?”

“Are you always this observant?”

“You know, some people think I’m just  a bartender, but the truth? I’m also a watcher and a listener. You wouldn’t believe the amount of drunk girls crying their broken heart out on this particular counter.”

“Hah!” he chuckled. For some crazy reason her attitude was making him feel at ease. Like he could actually maybe stand a chance with her?

“So, here’s your pina colada and your beer. Enjoy.”

The second she handed him the beverages he knew the moment was over. He was a customer at the bar and she was working here. They were not friends and definitely not more.

“Yeah, um – thanks …” he muttered, retrieving back into himself, grabbing the mugg and a tall glass, heading back to Dick with sense of defeat inside him.

***

“Are you crazy?!”

“Stop yelling!”

“But are you crazy?!” with the way Dick was tugging at Jason’s shirt it was truly a miracle that the younger brother did not end up drenched in and reeking of beer. “You had a chance! It was the perfect opportunity and you’re back here?! Please tell me you at least asked her out!”

“I –“

“Holy shit, Jason, you totally blew it.” Dick rubbed his forehead “Tell me you told her, you liked her!”

“Well-“

“Ok, fine, fine. Let’s lower the bar and the expectations there then. Tell me you told her she’s pretty.”

“I’m not telling the cliché that any drunk man would!”

“You’re hopeless. You are totally hopeless. My god, did I teach you nothing during all those years?!”

“Shut up, Dick!”

Too bad it was too late and Dick was already on a highway to making a scene and the biggest commotion this little suburban club has ever seen.

“Dick!” Jason hissed, feeling all eyes on them. All eyes except Y/N’s who was apparently ending her shift, cleaning some of the stuff from the counter and filling in her colleague.

“Quick! Fast!” Dick started pushing Jason towards her direction.

Mistake.

A little tip: if you ever try to push a 6 ft and 200 pounds man in any direction at all, make sure to make sure he expects it.

Otherwise, the mass of muscles may just subdue to the undeniable power of physics. Especially the gravity and the rules of dynamics. You know, the whole a body set in motion moves in a uniform motion and all shebang.

In Jason’s case it resulted in him losing the balance, falling backwards and stumbling upon unexpecting Y/N, crashing into her as they both ended on the floor with a very disturbing crack coming from somewhere.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Y/N? Are you okay? I am so sorry, I am so terribly sorry, how many fingers do you see-“

 “Ouch….” She groaned, reaching for the hand he was reaching towards her, letting him help her up. “Five?”

“Three. Close enough.”

“So you’re a sloth now?”

“huh?”

“Well, I said five fingers, you said three. Sloths have three fingers and – mh. Dry joke, sorry.”

“You must have hit your head pretty bad, huh?” he could swear to god, he had no idea where that joke came from, just slipped his mouth, but to his relief – she laughed. Not in a mean way, not at all. It was a genuine, happy laugh. He made her laugh.

“Yeah, maybe. I swear I am usually in a better shape.”

“I’d love to see that.” He muttered, and in his head it was just a thought never spoken aloud, but when she tilted her head and gave him a funny look, Jason realized he actually did just that. Spoke up. Bared himself to rejection, teasing, hurt, pain, depression –

“Ok.”

“Ok?” his eyes grew wider.

“Yes. Ok. I can give you a sample. And also you owe me.”

“Um, yeah, yeah, ok, so – “ he scratched his head awkwardly.

“I like coffee. And I have a day off tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay then so – “ say something you idiot! Say something! “there’s this little café at the 23rd and-“

“See you at 8.” She smiled, grabbed her coat and with a wave of her hand disappeared leaving him stunned.

He had a date. Ish. A meeting. A meeting with a girl he liked.

He could jump up from the sheer joy of this unexpected turn out of events, if it wasn;t for the one little fact ….

“RICHARD GRAYSON!!!”

The yelling could wake up the dead and sensing the incoming sequence of events, Dick quickly started moving through the crowd towards the exit.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

It seemed that after Red Hood was done with his job, Nightwing would be excluded from patrolling that night.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Eight

Summary: Jungkook's feelings for you have grown immensely and he can't hold himself back from being honest anymore. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 2.6K~ (I know it's short but it was at a good stopping point and I couldn't figure out how to continue it without a big time skip/harsh break so yeah enjoy this mini chapter 😅) Warnings: No warnings just fluff a/n: Another almost four months and I only have a little bit for you 😔 I'm still trying to figure out how I want to go about finishing this story (yes it's close to the end) so please bear with me 😪 but either way I hope you enjoy!

Ever since I told him last month that I didn't want to be friends anymore and by default telling him that I wanted to be with him things have been different.

We've settled into a new routine with the tension between us no longer burning to the point I shy away but something that feel natural, domestic even. 

I guess you could say that's pretty obvious from the fact that we're living together but his subtle touches are welcomed and expected.

Things as simple as his hand on my lower back as he passes by or his arms wrapped around me from behind with his chin propped up on my shoulder or even a kiss on the forehead are all things that we've settled into and it makes me feel loved. 

Love is still a scary word for me to think about or even say aloud but it's something I feel towards him, deeply, hopelessly, painfully.

At times I remember that things could suddenly change without warning. That he could toss me out as soon as he gets fed up with waiting like Jared did. That he cou-. 

"Ow!" I cry out when he pinches my side, "What was that for?" I whine, the spot he abused  already sore. "I've been calling your name for five minutes and you didn't respond so..." he chuckles and I hum, not having the energy to scold him further. 

He wraps his arms around my waist and props his chin on my shoulder just like I had been thinking about while spacing out, leaving me relaxing into him, the feeling of being in his arms taking away some of the anxiety that had started to build. 

"You okay?" he asks, placing a kiss on my cheek to which I hum again, nodding along with it. "You sure, because you've been stirring your coffee for the past seven minutes" he says, my hand stilling once he points it out. 

I take a drink of the completely cold beverage and sigh in defeat, realizing that his words are true. 

"I wanted it cold anyways" I mumble and turn to walk over to the freezer to add some ice, Jungkook letting go but still staying close. 

"Something's wrong" he says after observing me for another second or two, very used to reading my body language. "Nothing's wrong I'm just...tired" I reply and the truth is I am. 

"My internship has been kicking my ass and I don't know, I guess it's all starting to catch up to me" I relent and he takes a turn humming, knowing I'm not telling him the whole truth. 

"You know you can tell me anything right?" he says, coming closer and cradling my face in his hands, granting him a sad smile in return. 

"I know, but I promise I'm fine. It's just been a long week that's all" he studies my features for a while and decides to take my word for it, seeing that I'm not ready to talk about it. He nods his head a tiny bit before leaning in and giving me a soft kiss on my lips, one that lasts but a moment before pulling away.

"You wanna watch something tonight?" he asks and I smile as my answer, making him chuckle. "I'll make the snacks if you wanna go choose" he offers and I nod, my face still cradled in his hands so he gives me one last kiss before letting go and leaving our source of entertainment up to me.

~~~~

As the movie we've already watched and fallen in love with plays Jungkook notices my absence even though I'm cuddled up next to him, my reactions being minimal to nonexistent.

The parts we always laugh at are met with the sounds of his enjoyment and not mine so he pauses it and waits for me to notice which I don't for a while leaving him even more worried. 

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours Bunny? Did I do something wrong?" he asks and I sit up, needing him to know that he hasn't. "No, no you've been wonderful, better than I deserve honestly" I say, mumbling the last part but of course he hears it loud and clear.

"I'm good to you because I love you and you do deserve it, that's all" he admits so freely that I almost don't catch it. "You...what?" I ask, almost too scared to breathe. "I love you" he says with a crooked smile, clearly enjoying my practically speechless state.

I sit there for a minute, stunned into silence, not having expected that at all but he just laughs. "What? You didn't think I loved you?" he asks, brushing a stray strand of hair off of my face, letting his fingers trail down my neck before withdrawing his hand.

"No...I mean maybe? Isn't it a little too early for I love you's?" I ask, tentative to say it after I had been burned by...

"I don't think so. I mean it might be forward but I've loved you for a long time and I've cared about you even longer. You're someone that has been a constant in my life for many many years and the fact that you've given me permission to hold you, kiss you...well it's something that I don't think I can hold back anymore" he confesses, making me feel as though my heart might explode. 

"I-" "You don't have to say anything. Take your time and only say it if you truly mean it Darling. I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for" he says, chancing caressing my face again and rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip. 

"Come here" he says and pulls me in, having me straddle him not for anything sexual but just for the need to hold me close. 

I burry my face in his neck and he rubs my back, knowing that I feel vulnerable since although he's not rushing me, I know he'll be waiting for an answer. 

"I'm scared" I mumble against his skin and he hums, understanding the situation honestly more than I wish he did. He witnessed the ups and downs of the relationship between Jared and I and sat on the sidelines, knowing he could treat me better but caring about me too much to take away my right to make my own decisions and choose who I love even if it wasn't him. 

"Take your time Bun. You know I'll always be here for you, no matter how long it takes" he reassures me of what I knew, making me nod and wrap around him even tighter, taking his words as genuine but still terrified that this could all slip away at any moment. 

~~~~

A week goes by and I still haven't said it and it's killing me.

When he says goodbye he says it, whenever we've been intimate he says it, he even says it randomly just to try to make me smile but my mind won't truly let it sink in until I say it back.

"Baby?" he asks, knocking on my partially ajar door, seeing that I've been taking a little while longer to get out of bed this morning. 

I hum and let him come in, trying to assess the state I'm in before saying anything else as he comes and sits down on my side of the bed, looking down at me and placing his hand on my waist. I'm still laying down, not having made an effort to get up just yet which I know worries him as well but he doesn't push me too hard. 

"You not feeling well?" he asks, now going to check my temperature with the back of his hand but not noticing a fever of any sort making his theory very short lived. "No, just tired" I say quietly, not having spoken a word since I woke up, my voice still raspy which I can tell he enjoys but doesn't comment on this time.

"You want me to make you something? It's already lunch time and you haven't eaten all day huh?" he asks, knowing the answer but still allowing me the chance to reply. "Yeah maybe something simple like a sandwich?" I request and he nods.

"Want me to get it from that sandwich place we love?" he suggests, rubbing small circles on my waist but I shake my head. "No I'm craving one of your sandwiches" I say making him smile, knowing one of his favorite forms of praise is compliments on his cooking. 

"Okay Bun, the usual?" he asks, knowing exactly what I want but asking just in case I'm feeling like something a little different today but I nod my head in approval making him lean down and place a kiss on my forehead before asking if I want him to bring it up here to which I decline. 

"I need to get out of bed at some point" I say and he shrugs, "You're allowed to have a lazy day every once in a while if you'd like. I could even come join you later on?" he proposes making me smile, in favor of his suggestion. 

"Can we take a nap after lunch?" I ask and he smirks a bit, testing the waters to see what I'm actually asking for. "Just a regular nap this time" I roll my eyes leaving him sighing dramatically before leaving, telling me he'll call me down when it's ready.

Once he's gone the doubt that has been plaguing my mind comes circling back.

'What if he's just saying that to take pity on me? What if he's saying it to rush me into something I'm not ready for? What if-' I groan, cutting off the spiral that I send myself down every time I'm alone and throw the blankets off before going into my bathroom and throwing cold water on my face, glaring at myself in the mirror, daring me to keep acting like this.

He loves me. He loves...me. Why am I so torn up about this? People say it all the time so it's not like it's the end of the world. It's just that...well next time I say it I want to mean it. The next time I say it I want it to be real. 

I want to say it to the man that I'll promise to say it to forevermore. 

Call me a hopeless romantic all you want but if I'm going to trust someone with my heart again I don't want to regret it...

~~~~

"Here you go Bunny" he says and places my sandwich in front of me. "I love you" I mumble, softer than I've ever said anything before but it makes his movements stutter. 

"What was that Darling?" he asks, sitting down in the seat next to me at the table. "I um...I said 'Thank you'" I chicken out and although he wants to call me out on it he doesn't.

"You're welcome baby" he says, his smile a little brighter when he realizes that I'm trying, that I want to say it too but I just don't have the confidence yet. 

"Anything for you" he finishes and caresses my cheek before getting up and grabbing his plate along with our drinks. 

"You sure you're feeling alright?" he asks, my silence through lunch palpable since whenever he tries to start up a conversation I give him small short answers that make his efforts die in his throat. 

"I've just been feeling a little funky that's all" I say and he hums, contemplating his next words which surprise me. "I'm sorry" he says, defeated and honestly quite vulnerable. "Why are you apologizing?" I ask, not thinking that he would have done anything that would require something like that. 

"I knew you weren't ready and I rushed things but I wanted to be able to say what I felt for you because it was eating me alive. Having to cut off my sentences and not being able to speak my mind fully, holding you as close to my heart as possible but not being able to tell you that you had it in the palm of your hand already I just...I couldn't do it anymore" he says, his whole demeanor shifted into an almost sorrowful state that I can't hold it back anymore.

I can't keep hurting him like this when all I want to do is scream it for all to hear, even if the thought terrifies me.

"I love you" I say making his head pop up from it's dropped state, then feeling guilty and looking at his lap again as a result. "You don't have to say it just because I did. I just wanted to apologize because I know that that's was why you've been feeling so off lately" he says but I shake my head. 

"The thought of giving my heart to someone again scares the shit out of me. After...well after going through all of that the thought of opening myself up again was not something I wanted to do. I will admit I sought you out out of lust at first but as our friendship and eventual relationship began to grow I realized that I cared about you a whole lot more that I should" I say, me now with my head turned down, not being able to keep the intense eye contact he's giving me, hanging on every word. 

"I didn't know if you were doing these things for me because you felt sorry or because you truly cared. I know now that doubting your motives was honestly my own self doubt getting the best of me. You've done nothing but love and care for me since the beginning and I haven't let myself fully process the fact that I'm..." I cut myself off and take a deep breath.

"The fact that I'm falling in love with you" and although he said those words first the admission alone has me feeling as though he hadn't, as if he would change his mind now that I reciprocated his confession but he does anything but that, further confirming his true intentions for me as he pulls me closer. 

He doesn't pull me in with a carnal passion in mind, he doesn't even pull me in for a kiss, he pulls me in and holds me close, telling me wordlessly that he's proud of me. That he's proud of me for taking that step, for trusting him with my heart, my mind, soul, fully consumed by him without abandon.

"Thank you" he whispers, his face being buried in my hair making me laugh at the ticklish feeling. "Don't make it weird" I say and poke his side making him flinch and hold me tighter. "How can I not? The woman I love loves me back" he chuckles and when I try to pull back he squeezes me tighter. 

"Just let me have my moment" he huffs making me sigh and return his crushing embrace. "I love you" he says making me burry my face into his neck, mumbling it against his skin in return. 

"Nah nah nah, say it like you mean it" he says, pushing me back just enough so he can look at me. "But I do mean it!" I roll my eyes, playing into his pouty act. "Come on, say it!" he says, pushing me back and forth, making me sway. 

"I already said it, why do you need to hear it again?" I chuckle when his pout gets deeper. "Okay fine" I give in making his brows raise at my quick defeat. "I love you" I whisper in his ear and then run away, his hold on me having loosened from pure shock of my honesty, knowing now that I truly truly mean it. 

"Get back here!" he scolds once he's come back down to earth, the surprise replaced with determination, his intentions being to not let me go til sunrise.  

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[pomefioredove]

omg i LOVE the concept of cookies as asks so can i have a sugar cookie, #8, with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows thank yeww 🙏

t-t-total idia victory!

order #8, sugar with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ internet connection

tropes: ex (mutuals) to lovers, roommate au characters: idia additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu

It was the closest experience to dating Idia had ever gotten, and likely the only experience he'd ever get again.

Three months.

Three perfect, blissful months.

That's 13.0357 weeks, 91.2501 days, 2,190 hours of chats, voice calls, and texts with someone he had almost considered his.

He was raising his confidence stats to ask them out when they sent him a message, which would be their last:

"router busted. sry. will get it fixed soon"

That was weeks ago.

Idia couldn't blame them. They were going to get tired of him eventually, and ghosting him, sucky as it was, was still the easiest way to let him down.

Then, at least, he could pretend that they were telling the truth.

"Come on, Idy! This is your chance! You'll never get over them if you never meet anyone else!"

Ortho's cheery, hopeful words twist Idia's stomach with guilt. He knows that. Of course he knows that.

He buries himself deeper into his blankets. "I don't want anyone else,"

"It's only for a few weeks. Maybe you'll make friends!"

Unlikely. Idia doesn't have the social XP for that. Who would want to be friends with him, anyway?

He can't even keep Magicord mutuals.

Then again, he has no other choice.

The Prefect had asked to stay somewhere with a high-speed internet connection while post-S.T.Y.X. Ramshackle was being repaired, and Ortho had volunteered Idia.

And his room.

Ugh. Why can't anything go right for once?

Idia hides under his covers like a small child, drowning the sound of the door and voices in PreMo.

He honestly doesn't know a lot about you. He doesn't get out much, and even if he did, you've always got those OP normie friends around you.

He knows you don't talk much. He's actually never heard you talk at all.

Whatever.

Idia only emerges from his blankets when his ears are ringing from the music and his body is sore from stillness.

He takes off his headphones and reads the room.

There's Ortho, projecting a beam of light on the wall, and there's Grim, chasing it, and there's you.

You seem a little out of place, awkwardly sitting on the floor when there are chairs and tables, your bags still at your sides, unpacked.

Something about you makes him feel at ease. Weird.

"Oh- Idy!" Ortho chimes. Idia jumps, and then everyone is looking at him. Crap.

"We were wondering when you'd come out! The Prefect has a question for you!"

You give Ortho a panicked look, as if to say you most certainly did not have a question for him. Idia has his own suspicions.

"About the Wi-Fi," Ortho chimes. "They really need to get online."

Idia narrows his eyes. His brother can handle something as simple as that.

"...O-okay," he mumbles. "I guess."

He reluctantly gets out of bed and sits beside you. At least with an objective, he isn't so nervous. You hand him your phone, some sad secondhand thing, and he puts in the password for you.

"Lemme know if it's slow. I've been working on upgrading the router, and it's been a little laggy," he hands your phone to you.

"Shouldn't be a problem, though."

You take it. "I can't complain, I don't have a router at all right now,"

Idia's face turns red.

His eyes go wide.

He can't place it, at first. What's that weird feeling? What is it about you-

You notice his expression. "Uh... did I say something?"

And when you speak again, just like that, Idia jumps to his feet.

"IT-IT'S YOU!"

"You?" Grim asks.

"You?" Ortho echoes.

"Me?"

Idia feels like he's losing his mind, his anxiety cracking and breaking away, shock taking its place.

"Y-yes, you! I know that voice! Don't you- you recognize mine too, don't you?!"

Your eyes widen.

"Oh... no... no way,"

"I-I can't believe this!" he says, suddenly grinning. "You weren't lying about the router, it must've got totally busted when S.T.Y.X- oh, crap. IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"

"Idy..." Ortho warns. "Your heart rate is-"

"I know! I know, I just- I can't believe it- you, of all people,"

He sits again, shaking. It takes you a moment to catch up.

"I... I wasn't lying," you mumble. "I've been trying to get a decent internet connection since we got back, but..."

"This is the guy?" Grim mumbles to you. He is ignored.

Idia feels lightheaded. This isn't real. This isn't happening. This is some weird dream.

He can't seem to stop grinning, anyway.

"Will you go out with me?!" he asks, without thinking at all. But not even the sinking feeling in his stomach is enough to ground him.

You stare back, your own eyes wide.

And then, in your familiar voice, in your familiar easing presence: "I'd like that,"

[koshiaoi]

I went to children therapy once because I am a rape and abuse victim, but the therapist was more concerned about thinking that she was right and children couldn't be raped or abused, but I was forced to go there because I was on suicide watch.

So here are my helpful tips that somehow helped me to not have to deal with those kinds of people (problematic therapist)

- stop talking to them, at all. when I did this, it signaled to my SPA that I was very uncomfortable being around them at all.

- talk to the person who is making you go to therapy and ask to see a different therapist, and if they don't agree, bide your time as now you have to do something drastic!

- for me, that was locking myself in my room for three days straight, at which point was really unhealthy for me, DO NOT DO THIS. Please call like cps or the fucking police, don't almost kill yourself, I was a idiotic child sometimes.

- get help from someone you trust, stop going to the place that's forcing you to go to that therapist, work or school, then talk with that person you trust to either help you negotiate for a different therapist or to switch schools or anything other than being there.

Ima be honest, after the first three times my therapist interrupted me saying something like, "Now what really happened," When I was telling the truth fucking hurt me. Anyway, thanks for listening to me ramble for a bit.

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 4

Masterlist

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 2088

Explaining to them what Talia had said did not make the situation any better. While her information had been helpful it wasn’t nearly enough to calm the storm that raged in them. If anything caused the winds to roar even stronger. They had to know what happened in that room, and the only one that knew was currently 6 years old. Which meant everyone would just have to wait; something this family was never good at especially when it came to personal matters. 

“Talia doesn’t know what really happened to Danyal. Ra’s could have just lied to her, and made Damian swear to never tell her the truth. We all know how much he idolized that man. It would have been easy for Ra’s to convince him it was for the best.” Tim suggests as he types hurriedly at the computer. 

“If Talia thought for a second that he had done something like that it would have come to light by now.” Bruce counters, “Ra’s would still have needed help getting Danyal out of Nanda Parbat, and one of them would have most definitely let it slip to Talia if he had done that.” 

“Which is why Ra’s would have everyone involved killed before they could have done so.” 

“Tim-”

“Crazier things have happened Bruce; multiple people in this family have come back. Why not Danyal?” Tim looks away from the screen for but a second as he interrupts Bruce before focusing back on the screen. A clear sign that he doesn’t want to continue talking about this. 

Bruce leaves Tim to continue his investigation; a part of him hoping that Tim is right. He could never admit that though. It would just be that much more crushing if proven wrong. So he turns attention to Dick, who is still near the med bay ready to rush in if need be.  

“Chum, why don’t you take a rest? Damian is perfectly fine right now, and you look like you need a break.” 

He knew that the reveal of Danyal’s death would hit Dick partially hard as someone who was very protective of his younger siblings. It wouldn’t matter to him that Danyal died before he even knew of his existence. Bruce expected Dick to be consumed with sadness right now. He wasn’t though he was overcome with fury. 

“A rest Bruce? We all just found out that Damian’s twin is dead; that Ra’s did something to make sure Damian wouldn’t tell anyone. And you want me to take a rest?” Dick eyes burned into him as he spoke. “I’ll take a rest once I know what that psychotic old man did.” 

Bruce knows Dick well enough to read between the lines of what his son is saying. He’s angry at Ra’s, yes, but Dick’s angry at himself too. He’s probably wondering why Damian never felt comfortable enough to mention such a big part of himself to them. 

“And we’ll make sure Damian knows that whatever Ra’s said or did was wrong, but you look exhausted right now. At least let me bring a chair over here for you to sit in.” Bruce calmly states to his eldest son. 

It looks like his words haven’t calmed Dick in the slightest, but before he can speak up again a chair is being pulled up next to Dick by Jason. “Jesus Christ Dick, just sit down already. And that’s me agreeing with B on something so you should know that it's not just the old man saying some b.s.” 

It doesn’t take much for Jason to force Dick to take a seat; one hard shoulder shove and he was collapsing into the chair. After which Jason pulls his own chair up next to him. “I’m gonna need you to put an end to this little pity party in the corner, Dickiebird.” 

“I’m allowed to be upset, Jason. We just found out that our brother is dead, and I should have been able to do something. 

“You think I don’t get that? The only difference between us right now though is that I was there; I could have done something to save the kid if I had known.” 

“Jaylad-” 

“No Bruce, if Dick here wants to blame himself for not doing something then he can blame me too.” Jason gives Dick an annoyed look then turns his head towards Bruce, “You’re free to get out of here old man. Can’t believe I’m the one that’s gotta talk some sense into Dick here.” 

He really doesn’t want to leave this conversation where it’s currently at, but when Dick gives him a nod he knows that he should withdraw. Bruce does make a mental note to ask about how the discussion went later; for now though he’ll do as they want.

So for now he moves on to check on his final son, Duke, before doing so though Bruce stops by his office once more for a moment to just sit and think. Once there it doesn’t take long before he is reaching into the bottom drawer where he keeps a bottle of whiskey hidden away. When he doesn’t feel it though Bruce knows that Alfred must have taken it. 

Of course Alfred knew he had it; that man knows everything that goes on here. 

It’s for the best that it’s gone anyhow he doesn’t need to be repeating past habits from when he lost Jason. That’s the last thing this family needs right now; not when there are still so many questions that need answers. 

In the end it’s Duke who seeks him out first. A mere 10 minutes goes by where Bruce is sitting in silence before a few light knocks echo against the walls around him. After announcing that the person knocking entrance Duke almost hesitantly approaches him. His habit of always tapping his fingers on whatever he was holding a dead give away for how nervous his son must be feeling right now. 

“Hey B,” Duke started, “everyone seems to be going through it right now huh?”

“It would appear so. What about you chum? How are you doing with all this?”

“I’m … not fine, but I know that that’s ok; I don’t think anyone wouldn’t be somewhat affected by the recent news. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else though if that’s ok.” 

Bruce takes a quick steady breath preparing himself for whatever this conversation may bring. “Of course, what did you want to talk about?”

“About what’s going to happen afterwards; when we find out the truth from Damian. Because- If Danyal is … dead then I think asking Damian about who Danyal was as a person, and setting up a memorial of sorts might help everyone with their grief.” 

“That,” his throat feels tight, “that sounds like a wonderful idea, Duke. I’m sure Damian- everyone would appreciate having a setup for Danyal in the manor.” 

Duke seems satisfied with his answer, and with a small smile makes his way out of the office. Before he leaves though he says one last thing, “I’d also make time to call Cass and Steph to give them an update on this before they get home.” 

After that the silence once more takes control of the room while Bruce thinks about the what if’s and the could have been. 

He’s not sure what the future holds for them now, but Bruce does know that whatever comes they’ll deal with it; together. That means he can’t keep sitting here in sorrow; he can’t fall apart again. 

“It’s time to get to work,” is his last thought as he leaves to make his way back to the cave. 

-

The rest of the day seems to go by in a blur, and not in a good way. Damian spits fire anytime anyone steps into his room. He has only willingly allowed Alfred inside to deliver food to him, and even that was met with cautious anger. 

At the very least Damian isn’t trying to escape; some piece of evidence they showed him must have convinced him that what they were saying was the truth. That conclusion is a double edge sword though as now Damian for sure knows that Danyal is gone. Why else would his brother not be here?

Red Hood and Red Robin are the only ones that go on patrol when the time comes. Dick refuses to leave his station at the med bay door knowing that Damian could be transferring back to himself any time now, and Bruce doesn’t want to leave him by himself if that does happen tonight. The two don’t talk much while alone in the cave, but Dick does allow Bruce to momentarily take his place at the door while he takes a moment to refresh himself. 

While it doesn’t actually happen that night the family is definitely in for a surprise when they check in on Damian the next morning, and find the now normal 14 year old boy asleep on the bed. 

Everyone had to hold Dick back so that he wouldn’t wake him up, and in the end it was Alfred who finally managed to convince him to let Damian rest without interruptions. Unfortunately for the sleeping child though this only gives the rest of the family more time to think about what they’re going to ask, and heaven knows he already has a lot to answer for.

-

Damian feels himself slowly waking; his body feels stiff and slow when he attempts to sit up, but otherwise fine. He knows he must be in the med bay since the last thing he remembers was being on patrol with Nightwing and encountering a blinding light. 

When enough of his strength finally returns to him he cracks his eyes open to see his father and brothers all looking at him with varying degrees of concern. Whatever happened must have been a lot bigger than he had originally thought if they are all here with him.  

Slowly he rubs a hand across his face and groans out to everyone in the room, “What happened?” 

No one says anything for a few beats. In fact they all seem to avoid meeting his eyes entirely. Eventually though his father clears his throat before speaking in a voice far too soft and gentle, “Well chum, you got hit with a spell while on patrol. It- It reverted you back to your 6 year old self.”

Oh. 

Oh no. 

That was probably the worst thing he could have been told right now as Damian thinks back to what he was like at that age; to who had been by his side since birth. There is absolutely no way that his long gone other half wasn’t mentioned, or brought up in however long he was in his younger state. 

“I’m frankly surprised to see you all still standing. I was very dedicated to the league at that age.” He’s not going to admit to anything just in case he is wrong though. Danyal is not someone who Damian is ready to speak about. His twin, his brother, and his biggest regret; he’ll never forgive himself for being so brainwashed by Ra’s that he allowed Danyal’s death that day. That he was prepared to do it himself because the older man said it was for the best. 

“You did manage to break Jason's nose!” Duke lightly chuckles as the mentioned man throws a glare, but otherwise remains silent. Followed by more deafening silence from everyone else. 

Dick is the one that finally brings up the elephant in the room, “Dami … who’s Danyal?”

Why did he have to be right about them knowing? Ready or not it seems the truth about Danyal was coming to light it seems. “Danyal was my twin; the other half- the better half of me. I understand that now.”

His eldest brother gently grabs his hand, and holds it in a firm embrace of comfort. He’ll allow it for now. “And what happened to him?” 

Damian can’t keep his past hidden anymore, and Danyal deserves to have his story told. “When we were 10 Gran- Ra’s took Danyal and I away from our studies early one afternoon. He said that he had a couple lessons of his own that he wanted to teach us personally.” 

For one it was a life lesson, and for the other a death sentence. 

… 4 years ago …

“Damian, Danyal, come. You two are about to learn what it truly means to be an Al Ghul.”

[genderkoolaid]

Just saw a post on my dash claiming you're a terf psyop because some terf on Twitter has the same username as you. I just wanted to warn you in case you haven't seen it yourself. You two having the same name is the only evidence given in the post. Nothing else. And I frankly don't believe it for a second. But other people are spreading this and seem to be accepting it as the truth. And I think it's messed up, and I'm worried about you. You don't have to respond to this at all btw; I just wouldn't have felt right about seeing this and not telling you.

Well this is wild lmao. I'm presuming both of these are talking about the same person.

—

—

Obviously that is not me. Mostly because I am not in fact a TERF (or from the UK). I chose "genderkoolaid" to be ironic because transphobes use that phrase.

But also because, if I was a TERF psyop, why in the world would I use the same URL for both my secret evil psyop account and my blatant TERF account?

She seems to have developed an entire conspiracy theory around transandrophobia in which she starts with the idea that everyone who talks about it is a secret TERF, and works backwards to twist anything anyone ever says into being proof of her conspiracy:

—

^ Her pinned post is... something!

Anyone can find the worst posts in the transandrophobia tag and use it as proof the whole thing is transmisognistic, because obviously transmisogyny remains a widespread problem and no space or group is exempt. But she doesn't even use those, really. Any post that talks about how transmascs suffer from misogyny, or just suffer in general, is apparently saying trans men are women and should detransition.

It's wild that she seems to understand that radical feminism relies on this man bad/woman good binary, AND that TERFs target trans men for conversion therapy, but does not seem to understand that... this is not that?

It's only somewhat included in the first screenshot, but the third image in that trio is an image with Joan of Arc which many of you have probably seen:

... which does nothing but contrast claims about masculinity with a person whose murder was justified because of their invalid masculinity. But of course, by masculinity we must REALLY mean... cis womanhood! That makes sense!

She also apparently believes that me describing myself as FTMTX is code for me being a detransitioner:

—

Like, this is genuinely just conspiracism & exorsexism. She seems one step away from claiming TMRAs are all Satanists kidnapping children.

To give her credit for one thing, though: She tags these as "broeddels" which, while useless as a term, is a very good pun.

Don't harass this person, primarily because harassment is bad but also because it seems like she is not in the best space and is obsessing over this as a result.

& if you want to actually support trans women, consider raising awareness of Rue, a Black teenage trans girl who recently survived a stabbing in Houston.

[gerlionrise]

A Game Within the Game P3

Hwang In-ho (player 001) x reader Synopsis: In-ho heals your wound, tells the truth, and tries to make you completely his own. This is part 3. Part 2 is here.

You woke up in a bed. It was soft, far too soft, and for a moment, you thought you were still dreaming. The room was dimly lit, a warm glow from a single bedside lamp casting long shadows across the luxurious furniture. The sheets were crisp and expensive, the kind you’d only ever seen in catalogues or movies. Your body ached—sharp pain lancing through your side as you tried to sit up. You froze, memories flooding back. The games. The chaos. The sound of the gunshot.

Your breath quickened as panic clawed at your throat. This wasn’t the dorm, wasn’t the arena, and certainly wasn’t anywhere you recognized. Where were you? Were you dead? 

The door creaked open. 

You turned sharply, your muscles protesting the sudden movement. There he was—001. But he looked different. This man stood tall, composed, and sharp, dressed in simple black sweatpants and a fitted T-shirt that highlighted a lean strength you hadn’t noticed before. His face was calm, but his eyes… they were heavier now, like they carried the weight of a thousand secrets. 

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice gentle but unsettlingly firm. He stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him.

“What is this? Where am I?” Your voice came out shaky, trembling with a mixture of fear and confusion. 

“You won,” he replied, walking closer.

His words landed like a punch to the gut. You blinked, your mind scrambling to piece everything together. “What do you mean I won? What happened? Where—where is everyone else?”

“They’re gone,” he said simply, standing at the foot of the bed now. “It’s over. The games are finished.”

Your stomach twisted. “The last thing I remember—there was a mistake. I made a mistake. I should be dead.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “No,” he said quietly. “You shouldn’t.”

“What does that mean?” You sat up fully now, ignoring the sharp protest of your body. “You’re not making any sense.”

He sighed, his calm demeanor slipping for just a moment. He looked almost… tired. “I need you to know something,” he said, more to himself than to you. 

“I need to know what?” Your voice rose, cracking with desperation. 

He hesitated, just for a moment, before meeting your gaze head-on. “My name is Hwang In-ho,” he said, his tone steady. “I’m not just Player 001. I’m the Frontman, the Host of these games, of all of this,” he said pointing his finger around, hinting that we were still in the territory where the games take place.

The words didn’t register at first. They hung in the air, heavy and incomprehensible. “What?” you whispered, shaking your head. “What are you talking about? Are you joking with me?”

“I’m not,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve been the host of these games for years. I was there before you ever signed up.” 

Your blood ran cold. “This is mad,” you said, your voice trembling. “No, that’s not possible. You were with us. You were in the games. You—”

“I joined the games for you after the first game,” he interrupted, his tone sharp now, cutting through your denial. “You were the reason I entered.”

The room spun around you. “You’re lying,” you said again, but the conviction in your voice was gone. 

“I’m not,” he repeated. “I made sure you survived. Every step of the way, I was there. Guiding you. Protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” you repeated, your voice rising in disbelief. “You killed people! You let them die!”

“It’s my job.” His voice was cold now, his eyes narrowing. “Just like yours was to play the games.” The anger burned through your veins, hot and undeniable. You forced yourself to your feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in your side. Before he could react, you raised your hand and slapped him, hard. The sharp sound echoed through the room, and for a brief moment, his head tilted slightly to the side, his cheek reddening. 

Hwang In-ho didn’t retaliate. He didn’t flinch. He only sighed, meeting your gaze with calm, unshaken patience. 

“You’re a murderer, a fucking psychopath” you spat, your voice trembling with rage. “You lied to me. You used me.”

“I didn’t use you,” he replied evenly, his tone quiet but firm. “You chose this.”

“Chose this?” You laughed bitterly, gesturing wildly at the room, at him. “I didn’t choose to trust a monster! I trusted you. I cried into your shoulder, told you how scared I was, and you—” Your voice cracked as the tears you’d been holding back threatened to spill. “You were the reason for it all.”

“I won’t apologize,” he said, his voice unwavering. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you hissed, stepping back as though the distance could somehow dull the betrayal you felt. 

“I understand why you’re angry,” he said, his posture as calm as always, “And I expected this. I knew you wouldn’t take the truth easily, but I didn’t want to hurt you. That was never my intention.”

“Then what was your intention, In-ho?” you demanded. “Why let me go through all of this? I saw good people, people I liked, get killed!”

“To keep you alive,” he said simply. “To make sure you won.”

You shook your head, disbelief twisting in your chest. “And what now? What happens now? I'm sure I'm here for a reason right now, am I?”

He took a step closer, his voice softening. “I want you to do more than just take your winnings. I want you to stay here.”

You blinked, stunned into silence for a moment. “What?” 

“I want you to become a co-host of these games” he said, his tone steady. “To work with me. To help run the games.”

Your stomach churned. “You want me to help you kill people?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped even closer, his expression unreadable. “You’ve seen it for yourself,” he said cupping your cheek with his hand. “How people turn on each other. How they’re willing to destroy one another for money. You’ve seen how disgusting humanity can be. You’ve felt it.”

You opened your mouth to argue but faltered. His words hit a nerve. The memories of what you’d witnessed—of the desperation, the betrayal, the violence—flashed in your mind, unbidden. 

“I’m not like you,” you said quietly, moving away from him.

 “No,” his gaze steady. “No, you’re not,” he left something unsaid.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whispered. 

“But you stayed. You fought. And now, you’ve won.”

You stared at him, your anger faltering as his words sank in. 

“You don’t have to decide now,” he said after a moment, his tone softening again. “You’re hurt. You need time to recover. And while you’re here, you’ll have plenty of time to think. You’ll see for yourself that there’s nothing for you out there.”

“There’s no point in going back?” you said bitterly, repeating his words.

“You know it’s true,” he replied. “You told me that yourself one night — you had nothing. No one. That’s why you joined the games in the first place. Out of boredom, out of hopelessness.” 

You flinched, the truth of his words hitting harder than you wanted to admit. 

“Stay,” he said softly, stepping closer yet again. “Stay, and I’ll show you that you don’t need to go back. You have everything you need here.”

Tears stung your eyes as the weight of his words crushed down on you. “Why?” you choked out. “Why would you do this? Why would you let me go through all of that? Why did you let me live?”

His expression softening. “You remind me of someone,” he said quietly.

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. "You’re delusional if you think I’m that person." 

He didn’t say anything to this. 

Finally, you mustered the strength to ask the question that had been burning in your mind. “Why did the guard shоot me? You said you were protecting me. Then why did it happen?”

His expression hardened for a brief moment, but then he sighed. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “It’s been handled. Now rest,” he turned around to leave the room

You stared at him leaving, a storm of emotions swirling inside you. The room was silent, heavy with everything left unsaid.

—

For the next two days, you didn’t see Hwang In-ho at all. The only people you encountered were the silent guards in their oppressive pink uniforms, coming in at scheduled intervals to check on your recovery or patch you up when necessary. Each time they entered the room, you felt a wave of panic, memories of the last game rushing back—how one of them had pointed a gun at you and shot. 

You tried asking them questions, trying to understand what their purpose was, why they were here, and how they could participate in something so monstrous. But their silence was infuriating. They didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge your words. It was as though you were speaking to statues. 

In the meantime, you explored the space where you were being kept. It looked like an apartment, sprawling yet suffocating, with no windows. The walls were sleek and minimalist, the furnishings modern and expensive. It felt more like a gilded cage than a refuge.

Every day, fresh clothes were brought to you. You could tell they were expensive, tailored to your size and style, but you didn’t care for most of them. You stuck to a simple outfit: black shorts that hugged your legs comfortably and a matching black V-neck top. It was practical and unassuming, the only semblance of normalcy in this surreal situation.

You asked the guards repeatedly where In-ho was. “Where is your host? Where is he hiding?” you’d say. The only response you got was the vague assurance that he had “things to do.”  

“Things to do? For days?” you muttered angrily, frustrated by their cryptic responses and his absence. You couldn’t understand why he would leave you alone here.

---

On the third day after you had been shot, you found yourself in the kitchen. It was like the rest of the apartment—sleek black counters, matte surfaces, and every kind of appliance imaginable. You busied yourself by rummaging through the cabinets, not because you were hungry, but because it gave you something to do. 

Then, the door opened, and In-ho walked in. 

He was dressed casually, in black slacks and a fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His presence filled the room instantly, his calm yet commanding energy unsettling you. He glanced at you briefly before walking to the counter. 

“Where have you been?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended. 

“I was finishing up the games,” he replied without emotion, opening the refrigerator to pull out a bottle.

“Getting rid of the bodies?” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he busied himself preparing a drink, the soft clink of ice breaking the tension in the air. You could feel his quiet disapproval of your tone, but it only fueled your frustration. 

You hopped onto the countertop, as you watched him. If he wanted to act nonchalant, you would make it harder for him. 

“How did you become the host?” you asked, tilting your head. “Do you enjoy this? Watching people die for your amusement?” 

His answers were dry, measured. “I have my reasons,” he said simply. “It’s necessary.”

“So, what do you do when you're not running murder games? Read? Knit? Take long walks around your crime scenes?" 

"I manage... everything. It’s not all death and drama, you know."

"Oh, sure. Just a side hustle of ruining lives." 

He smiled a little and glanced at you, “You’re quite good at sarcasm." 

You didn't answer him and continued your interrogation. "Why black? Is it just your vibe, or are you secretly colorblind?"

"Black is practical. It hides blood,” he replied by taking the ice out of the mold.

"Romantic. You ever think of wearing pink? Really lean into the theme here."

Now he chuckled, “I think I’ll leave pink to the guards."

Finally you asked, “When can I go home?” 

He glanced up at you briefly before returning to his drink. “When you’re ready.”

"What do you even want from me? Besides… whatever this ‘partner’ thing is."

His gaze flickered to you again, lingering this time. You noticed the way his eyes traveled down, taking in your posture, the curve of your body in the simple outfit you had chosen. There was something unreadable in his expression—calculated, yet almost… appreciative. 

"I want you to see what I see. To understand why I did this."

Then, he moved toward you, closing the space between you both in a few deliberate steps. 

You blinked in confusion as he stopped directly in front of you, standing between your legs. Even like this, with you perched on the counter, he was taller. His presence was overwhelming, his proximity setting your nerves on edge. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice faltering slightly.

He reached past you, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he opened the cupboard behind you. “I need a glass,” he said smoothly, his voice low.

You leaned forward instinctively so he could open the cabinet behind you. For a brief moment, you were pressed closer to him, your breath catching as you realized how little distance was left between you. 

He stepped back after retrieving the glass, returning to his drink as if nothing had happened. You watched him carefully, your heart still racing. There was something about the way he moved, so deliberate and composed, that both irritated and intrigued you. 

When he finally finished, he turned back to you. “Have you decided?” he asked.

“Decided what?”

“Whether you’ll stay with me. Whether you’ll join me.”

Your laugh was bitter, humorless. “You already know my answer. I’ll not join you. And as soon as I can, I’m going home.”

Something flickered across his face—disappointment, perhaps, but it was gone too quickly to read. He nodded once, setting his drink down on the counter. 

Then, before you could react, he came up to you again and placed his hands on your waist, lifting you off the counter with surprising ease. You tensed, ready to protest, but his grip was steady, grounding. 

“I want to show you something,” he said softly, his voice almost gentle and his dark eyes catching yours. You tried not to stare, tried not to acknowledge how ridiculously good he looked in his perfectly tailored black shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms.  

You hesitated. There was no reason to trust him, no reason to believe this wasn’t another one of his manipulations. But there was something in his tone, something that made you curious despite yourself. 

“Fine,” you said finally, your voice laced with defiance. “But this better not be another one of your twisted games.”

He smirked faintly, a shadow of amusement crossing his face. “I think you’ll want to see this.” But before leaving he asked, “How’s your wound?” voice low, steady, but there was an edge of genuine curiosity.  

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, a little too quickly. “Why do you care?”  

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he replied simply, his words cutting through the air. 

You shrugged, trying to seem unaffected, but your body betrayed you. The memory of that gunshot, the panic, the pain—it all came rushing back in flashes. “I said it’s fine.”  

He didn’t believe you. His gaze dropped to your side, where the faint outline of the bandage peeked out from beneath your fitted black top. Without asking, he reached out, his fingers brushing just above the wound, careful but deliberate.  

You flinched, not from pain but from the sheer heat of his touch. It wasn’t fair—how could someone so infuriating have hands that felt this warm, this careful?  

“You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured, his lips quirking into the faintest hint of a smirk.  

“Yeah, well, you’re a terrible human being,” you shot back.

With that, he guided you toward the door, his hand resting lightly on your back as you walked. For better or worse, you were about to find out what he had planned. tag list: @carrotjuicepdf @wwastro @lucinda-reads @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @kripr2 @raideyo @kushnovice @ft-winnow @grliealibi @r3va-dwme @fantasylovestoryme Want to get tagged in the next part? Drop a comment.