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emotionalstressball · 2 years ago

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I posted 53 times in 2022

That's 39 more posts than 2021!

34 posts created (64%)

19 posts reblogged (36%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@but-imagine-if-they-did-say-that

@thememedaddy

@toots-senpai

@smutty-ki113r

@mens-rights-activia

I tagged 52 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#meme - 20 posts

#creepypasta - 18 posts

#meirl - 13 posts

#eyeless jack - 13 posts

#fanfiction - 8 posts

#jeff the killer - 8 posts

#lol - 7 posts

#eyeless jack x reader - 7 posts

#creepypasta fanfics - 7 posts

#proxies - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 60 characters

#somebody with art skills better than me wanna draw please??

My Top Posts in 2022:

Daisy [E.J. x Reader

-got some horror coming up in this bitch-

[IIII] -Author Note: ooooh~-

Feelings.

Something I don’t really like expressing, ever. Whenever I had a cut as a kid I didn’t want to bother my parents so I’d suck it up try to get a band-aid. So now when I’m in this circle with a people I don’t know, I’m scared.

I’m in a feel circle. For the next five minutes or so we have to sit and talk about our feelings. Taking turns in a circle. “Y/N” my name is called. “Hm” I hum looking up. “Y/N. . .this is the third time, are you ok?” she asks. “yeah” I mutter. “How do you feel?” she asks. “fine” I mutter. “Y/N could you elaborate please?” she asks. I shake my head and go sit in one of the couches moved to the side. The lady sighs and moves on to the next person.

”You can’t run forever” A voice whispers. Well actually two, The Burrly Twins. I almost jump from my seat. “I can see things others don’t, I can see you running” they say leaning into my face. “We won’t tell anyone, as long as you promise to do what we say”. They’re practically breathing down my neck at this point. “U-um” I glance at McCathe who’s laughing with some kids. “Y/N~” they say in a sing-songy tone. “Rose, Elena! Leave the poor girl alone” the instructor says. My literal saving grace.

Rose and Elena sneer at the poor woman and walk away. I lay there for a moment in shock. Running? Running from what?

The circles break and McCathe saunters over to me. “Sooooo. . .what were you and the Twins talkin’ ‘bout?” she asks. Propping up her elbow on the arm of the couch. “I don’t know, if it was a talk. . .” I mutter. “Don’ worry she does that to all the newcomers. Ya know, threats and stuff”. “Yeah but. . .never mind, it’s fine” I say sitting up. Rubbing my temples with my middle and forefinger. “Well anyway, the rest of the day is free, wanna hang?” McCathe asks. “You mean like suicide or-“, “oh fuck no! I mean like hang out!” McCathe basically screeches. “haha yeah, right”.

Me and McCathe Geeror were more or less friends. I was surprised to find out she was very athletic, I guess I never paid attention to her. She was pretty basic, like her name could be Bethany and some common last name. She had a six pack, and her muscles rippled when she ran around the small track. Her hair was cut short, shoulder length. And she had round brown eyes that look like pure milk chocolate when the light hit them. We sat down in the grass. The sun was setting as we sipped on our water bottles.

“So basically,” I said. “Everybody has caught Roxanne and Michelle kissing?” I ask. “Yessss, there we go, my little gossip student!” McCathe exclaims. “‘Cathe you’re crazy” I mutter. A soft smile gracing my face as she stares down at me in awe. “Well, kinda the reason I’m here sweet pea” she laughs. Laying her head next to mine.

“N/N?”.

“hm?”.

”How ‘bout. . .we check out that forest?”.

9 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

Daisy [E.J x Reader]

-chapter one because it doesn’t sit well with me leaving ya’ll with just a prologue-

[I] -author note: The chapters are numbered by Roman Numerals.-

We arrive at the destination.

A tall grey building with a flat roof. Surrounded by trees and trees. Pine and Oak being the prominent tall plants. There’s a woman out front. Her hair neatly tied up in bun, a dead look in her eyes as she stands and waits. How long has she been standing there? It’s in the middle of the night. The lights are on in some rooms up on the top floor. The building is looming and dark and. . . and scary.

I suppose you’d be confused as to why I’m being sent to Rosswells House for the Mentally Ill. (Pronounced: rose-wells. Stupid) Well I beat up this girl, bully. I think she’s still in the hospital. Anyway. It was turning cold, the leaves were already dying. This girl that is- that was in most of my classes (even though it didn’t matter if she wasn’t) made my life living hell. Her name was Annabelle Doobly. (Pronounced: Doo-ble. Stupid)

Tall with wavy blonde hair and and bubblegum pink strands of hair in the front. And she always wore these really tight crop tops with skirts, or shorts on the bottom. I won’t lie, she was hot. Like urban high school Regina George hot. And as much as she was pretty she was evil though. Because one day, on that cursed day, Annabelle The Asshole burned my schoolbooks, along with my homework (that was due that day), backpack, and toiletries. And if you’re wondering: How did she burn that shit without the sprinklers going off? She left her class, broke into my locker and burned it outside (Which is also bad for the environment so double fuck her). I met her in the hall when it was lunchtime. Well didn’t really meet her because I sort of, stomped up like a raging bull. I grabbed her by the hair and threw her down. Holding her down while everyone in school watched because I had nothing left to lose anyway I was gonna fail almost every class in one sitting.

It took one punch and then I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t just fed up with her BS, my parents just went through with divorce, my Aunt (who turned out to be my cousin) died two days ago. It was a lot, and now I hate myself more than I hate Annabelle The Astronomical Dumb Bitch (name created by my classmates) because I was no better than her. I took my feelings, my insecurities out on her. I blacked out. I only came back when three teachers and seven students who didn’t have their phones out pulled me off her. My knuckles were bloody and cut a little and I was still punching where her face would be. That’s when I saw my Mom, angry as fuck.

Anyway. That’s why I’m at Rosswells House for the Mentally Ill. Because I guess in some cases I am.

My mom grabbed my suitcase from the trunk as I reluctantly left the passenger side. It was like she was rushing me to leave, like she didn’t want me here. But I guess I should take in account her cousin dying and Dad filing for divorce. You know because he found another woman who was twenty-five and single like my mom. And you know, maybe she’s like this because I’m leaving. Maybe.

But I guess I’ll never know because by the time I feel like asking she’s driven off and this lady. This pencil thin lady with her dead stare and tight bun, leads me inside the building.

11 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

Daisy [E.J x Reader]

-i’m gonna put a link to chapters and a link to the one on Quotev-

[III] -Author Note: . . .enjoy.-

We go to sit down at table after getting our food. Mashed potatoes, peas or green beans, and what’s supposed to be steak. “. . .and that’s Josh and Amanda” she points discretely. “Hm” I hum. “Are you even listening?” McCathe asks. “Josh. . . Amanda” I mutter poking at my food. “AND Roxanne n’ Michelle who are totally into each other but don’ wanna say nothin’ because their parents are really stric’ Catholics” McCathe blurts out like it’s important. “And like, how the forest her is haunted, but nobody gives a fuck” she whispers. I lean in. “Haunted?” I asks. “Well, less haunted, and more. . . inhabited” she says. Her voice getting lower. “Anybody who’s ever gon’ into the forest has never not came out scared half to death, or, found dead”. McCathe says. Grinning creepily.

“wow” I mutter. “Yeah, it’s crazy” she says. Shoveling a spoon full of mashed potatoes in her mouth. “How come they don’t have breakfast food?” I ask eating some (peas/green beans). “I don’t know, it was like this when I got here” she says messing with her so-called-steak pieces with her spoon.

“I’m not eating this” she says dropping her spoon on her plate. “yeah” I mutter and do the same. The pencil thin lady from before, walks around the cafeteria picking up plates. “who’s she?” I whisper. Nodding my head over in the lady’s direction. “That’s Ms. Posherbumble” McCathe says. “We call her Miss Bumblebee for fun because she’s always hovering” she snickers. Ms. Posherbumble walks over to our table. “It seems you ladies have gotten along well, are you done eating” she says. A sort of, fake looking smile is on her face. She does not pass the vibe check.

“Yeah, we’re done” I say glancing at McCathe to confirm. “Mhm” she hums and nods her head. “Ok then, thank you and head towards the sitting area.” Ms. Posherbumble says gathering our cups and plates and walking off into the kitchen. “She is like a bumblebee” I say laughing lightly. “yeah. . .but anyway we nee’ to go to the sittin’ area”. McCathe says getting up out of her seat. I follow suit and we walk-well I follow her to the sitting room.

McCathe is strange. But she knows things, that might come in handy. And you know, she isn’t so bad.

12 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

Daisy [E.J x Reader]

-lil story from Quotev, I post chapters there first-

[Prologue] -Author note: start of a new series, deleteing some Tumblr posts. . .-

I sat in my garden. Butterflies, mainly Monarch, fluttering from flower to flower. The sun beaming onto my (skin color) skin. I lay there for god knows how long. This would be my calmest moment if it weren’t for my circumstances. The grueling and dark circumstances.

I sit up. Willing myself to hop on my feet. The grass tickling my toes as I walk to the sliding screen door. I open the door and walk inside the house. The aroma of flowers. Lily of the Valley, Hyacinth, and Lavender. My bare feet walk across the polished floorboards. Across the living room to the front door.

Maybe I shouldn’t be this calm?

My mom is sitting on the bench next to the front door. Her face dark and twisted with worry. “I’m ready.” I say. My voice quiet, barely audible. “Y/N you know I love you”. Mom says getting up to try and give me a hug. I take a step back. “Right.”, I respond. My tone cold and slightly harsh. I look away from her. Breaking her heart even more. “You need help, I’m getting you help”. she says her voice cracking, trying not to cry. I ignore her. “I’m getting in the car”. I grab my suitcase and walk out the door. My black suitcase with (favorite animal) stickers all over it bumps up and down over the gravel drive way. The tiny rocks dig into my skin as I walk.

I pop the trunk and press down the handle on my suitcase. Lifting it up and sliding it into the trunk before closing it. I walk around to the side and open the car door. Getting into the passenger side. The stars twinkle, and the moon shines brighter than usual. Illuminating the walk between the front door and the car. My gaze travels up to the porch steps. Expecting my mom to walk out any second.

But she doesn’t. Instead I wait fifteen long minutes. Either she’s punishing me before my “punishment” or she’s crying. I assume number two automatically when she walks out. Eyes puffy and red, nose twitching when she sniffles. Tears still falling out of her eyes every now and again.

Maybe in a different life, a different universe, a different timeline even, I wouldn’t have been sent away. I wouldn’t be holding back tears. Tears of regret, tears from knowing the only person that took care of me all eighteen years of my life is crying, because I won’t see her again until they deem me stable.

Mom opens the driver door and slides inside. Closing the door with a pull. There’s silence. Suffocating silence, but I don’t want to be the one to break it. “I’m sorry. . .” she whispers. I turn in my seat so I don’t face her. Tears falling down my face. The salty waterfall staining my cheeks. My bottom lip quivering, I sniffle. Loud enough for her to hear and she tries to reach for me but takes her hand away. I shake and shiver as I silently cry.

As my mom, drives me straight to my impending doom.

16 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Growing

TW: Cannabalism

Y/N sat on the couch. Watching TV as usual because Slenderman was busy. Jeff was on the couch also, unusually cheery. Sophia the First started playing. The intro going as usual until Y/N noticed something, Jeff was singing along. “I was girl in the village doing alright, then I became a princess overnight. Now I gotta figure out how to do it right, so much to learn and see”. Y/N hopped off the couch to go sit next to Jeff and sing. And that evening was spent watching Sophia the First, with Jeff.

In a house full of killers. You don’t necessarily have any good role models. Today was a great example.

It was noon, the warm sun a barely shone through the bare weaving tree branches. And drawn sheer curtains. Y/N was hungry. A common predicament when no one wants to take care of a child. Y/n sat there, hangry. Until Eyeless Jack walked in.

Jack, was calm and probably one of the most sensible out of the few she’s met so far. “Jackie!” Y/N exclaimed. Hopping off of the barstool and hugging the tall creature. “I’m hungy“ she whined into his hoodie. “Well, what I’m about to eat you probably shouldn’t“ Jack said. Prying the tiny human off of him. “Pleeaaassseeee” she pleaded with all her might. Puppy dog eye level ten.

”Fine” he sighed in defeat. Jack opened one of the many fridges and pull out a jar. A jar coated in red with organs inside. Y/N had always been fascinated as to why they had all those things in the fridge, she always wanted to try one. Jack, the laughing one, said it tasted almost like candy.

Jack, (no eyes man), opened the jar and the irony scent filled her nose. “It smells. . .” she paused. “Int-Int-teresting, yeah”. She nodded, content with her try at the word and sat back down on the bar stool.

”How do I eat it?” she asked suddenly. Rolling up her sweater sleeves and grabbing a few napkins. “You just grab it, and bite” Jack stated. “ok” Y/N muttered dipping her hands into the cold jar. “oh! It’s cold!” Y/N exclaimed pulling out a kidney hastily. Jack chuckled and pulled one of his own. “And just bite“ Y/N repeated to herself.

She opened her tiny mouth as much as she could and bit down. Blood dripping down the sides of her mouth as she pulled back and chewed. Jack watched her reaction first, surprised she actually went through with it. “mmmmm” Y/N hummed thinking. “7/10, needs salt“. She said hopping off the stool and climbing a counter. ”Dad- Slenderpman said salt is a seasoning, and seasoning makes things taste better so if it‘s gonna be nine or whatever comes after that, salt.”.

Y/N didn’t finish the kidney because mid-way she felt vomit traveling up her throat. Jack with his super speed, got her to a sink in time before her tiny cheeks exploded. Jack groaned, his heightened senses weren’t helping.

Y/N didn’t like the feeling of throwing up but she was gonna eat some more later. No matter what Jack told her.

(shit i did alot)

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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romanoffscottage · 3 years ago

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Hey may i request an imagine where reader is convinced nat and readers house is haunted and they have a kid and the kid and reader are really scared but nat tries to show them its not haunted but she gets a little scared to but in the end it wasnt haunted I’m sorry if u don’t understand

words: 582 | natasha blurbs masterlist | navigation post

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated and welcomed <3

"Did you hear that?" you asked your wife while you were cooking dinner. "Hear what?" The scratching noise sounded once again, making you jump away from the pot of pasta on the stove. "THAT!"

"Oh relax baby," Natasha said as she went to hug you from behind, "It's probably just the wind." You took a deep breath knowing you were safe in Natashas arms but jumped once again when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

You released the breathe you didn't realize you were holding when your six-year-old daughter, Maddie, appeared holding her stuffed bear tightly. "Aww malyshka, what's the matter?" Natasha asked when she noticed she was upset. "Scary noise," your daughter said sounding like she was going to cry. “See even she heard it Natty!”

“Shhhh!” Natasha said as she tried to console your daughter, “It's okay love, it’s just the wind.”

“What if it's a ghost?” asked Maddie as Natasha pick her up. “There is no such thing as ghosts malyshka,” your wife assured. You however were still not convinced.

Once Natasha calmed your daughter down, you went to whisper in her ear, “I mean we didn’t think aliens were real until they fell through the sky in 2012, so who are we to say that ghosts aren’t real.”

“Oh stop it,” Natasha went to playfully hit your arm. You went back to finishing dinner, still thinking there was a ghost in your house while Nat played with your daughter in the living room. “Dinners ready!” You called out as you scooped your wife and daughter bowls of pasta. “Thank you, my love,” your wife asked as she kissed your cheek before sitting down.

While you ate dinner Maddie told you all about her day at school which always brought a smile to your face. You didn’t hear the scratching sound anymore so you assumed Nat was right and it was just the wind. But then you heard it again and almost threw your pasta across the room. Maddie ran up and crawled into your lap in fear of the ‘ghost’ in your home.

As much as Nat hated to admit it, she was starting to believe this ghost story. The noise just had a haunting manner to it and it kept happening. “Okay okay, I’m going to take care of this,” Nat said as she pulled a gun out of the locked cabinet in your kitchen. “What the hell is shooting a ghost gonna do!”

“I don’t know!” Nat said, clearly scared now. The noises sounded again and it shoulder like it was coming from near the window. Nat crept to the window and noticed the sound didn’t sound as echoey as she got closer. The redhead opened the window to see a tree branch scratching against the side of your home. She reacher out and broke the branch off and pulled it into the house, “See it was just a tree branch, nothing to worry about.”

“Yay mommy saved the day!” Maddie said running into Nat’s arms. “Yeah, mommy did,” you said as you went to kiss Nat, “Mommy protects us so well.” While your daughter was busy cheering about how your house wasn’t haunted, you whispered in Nat’s ear, “You were scared there for a second,” you said laughing. “You were scared first,” Nat teased back. “Yeah yeah yeah,” you said with a groan.

“Hey, I’m just happy we didn’t discover ghosts existed today.”

“Yeah, I think we’ve had enough surprises to last a lifetime.”

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saiyanprincessswanie · 3 years ago

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U need 2 tag ur storys correctly…Ur reader need 2 B identified as female.. I assume u white as u use white females in ur pix so tag it right as u aint inclusive… when u reblog use proper tag 4 reader stop making it hard 2 figure out what ur reader is… also u need 2 support other authors an not ur cliques u inn…. so many repeat authors an u aint including other good talent.. an wen u gone 2 update ur series ??? Lik u lazy or sumthin … get ya act strait

I got this “lovely” anon yesterday while I was getting my neck shots done. I delete a lot of nonsense that comes in but felt like I’m going to speak my mind this morning as I haven’t slept thanks to pain from my shots yesterday.

First, nonnie your spelling and abbreviations are terrible. It was hard to read and made my eye twitch. If you want to come at me use proper English because all I’m going to do is laugh at this.

Second, how I tag my work is up to me. It’s clearly a reader insert and I don’t ever mention the color of someone’s skin. So I don’t see how it’s just a white reader in my Fics. The photos I use for my moodboards are tagged as “setting a mood or scene up.” I clearly write on all my work they do NOT represent my reader. I also use the proper tags in the warnings of each fic. If you don’t like how I tag my work don’t read it. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I see other writers who either put “female reader or just reader” in their pairings. I feel like if you are going to nitpick my tagging then you need to do the same to other writers on here. I don’t understand the not being inclusive part as I legit did a disabled reader fic last month.

As for my reading lists again it’s not my job or responsibility to tag someones fic. When you read another persons work it is YOUR responsibility to read the tags and warnings. I do a basic tagging when I reblog to help get more views to whatever I read. While we are on the topic of my reading lists I will say this.

If you think there is someone that deserves to be boosted cause they are talented or maybe they don’t get enough views or reblogs all you have to do is tag me in their work. Just make sure that author you want me to read wants to be on my reading lists. Anyone who knows me knows I’m open to reading things. I have a list of what I will or won’t read. Maybe brush up on that before you attack me on that. As for the “cliques” you think I’m in I have to post this

I’m the LEAST popular person on here and don’t belong to any “cliques.” Do I have friends I support, yes. Do I also support people I don’t talk with, yes. But throwing out “cliques” makes me feel like you are a minor or very young. It’s okay to support friends, mutuals and other people on here. I have never sat at the cool table with the popular kids as I’m a nerd. I’ve never fit in and I actually love that about myself. Maybe you are mad cause you’re not highlighted? I suggest if this is the case to engage with others on here. Reblog other people’s works because this is not a one sided support system on tumblr.

Finally, enough with calling me a lazy writer. I have a life outside of social media that consists of being married and dealing with my health issues. My life doesn’t revolve around this site. My writing is FREE! That means whenever I have free time I will write when the inspiration hits me. I’m not going to bust my ass for ungrateful, pushy people who want free content. Demanding me to do so is going to make me not want to update. I could wait a freaking year if I want and guess what you will just have to be patient.

Maybe next time when you decide to be a keyboard warrior you will think before you type. I don’t like bullies like yourself who think they can throw their weight around on here and be a total asshat to writers. Enough is enough. Grow up.

Mic drop

#missy speaks #fed up with anons

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soobmint · 4 years ago

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paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.”

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest.

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together.

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood.

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck.

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure.

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face.

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into.

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back.

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

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ghostlygunk · 3 years ago

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pinned post title

https://ghostlygunk.tumblr.com/SCRYBE READ THIS

DO NOT REPOST MY ART PLEASE

ABOUT IS ALSO COPIED UNDER READMORE FOR MOBILE USERS (LAST UPDATED: 10/19/2024)

mostly reblogs with the occasional original post. you will look at my unorganized-ass blog and you will LIKE IT. like/rb spams are fine i don't really care go nuts. preferably 16+ followers only out of personal comfort but like whatever im not your dad just be cautious on the internets alright

i occasionally reblog nsfw/suggestive/etc, i tag it though so be sure to have nsfw/nsft blacklisted if you don't wanna see that stuff :]

let me know if i'm rbing from a shitty person i am very clueless 👍

feel free to block me also if u ain't vibing w me i get it no hard feelings this isn't twitter. if it sucks hit da bricks!!!! 👍👍👍

if you used to know me (or you think you did) feel free to reach out regardless of the relationship we had, i don't rly mind lol

also check THIS shit out (pronouns nd stuff)

COMMS OPEN. PLEAS

hi helo. 20. he/they/it. my girlfriend is the coolest person on planet earth. i should really make a carrd but i seriously cannot be assed to fuck w that site

used to be p-o-3 and trans-hong-lu if you don’t recognize me

sorry if you follow me for something specific i’m not consistent at all

#1 boobs enjoyer

don’t ask me to tag slurs tht i reclaim i’m not going to but im not gonna bite your arms off if you reblog nd tag them u get me. we're skipping around together

dni:

basic normal person shit, don't be racist don't be antisemitic use common fucking sense or die. zionists die by my blade

terf/radfem/gender crit/people like that go fuck yourself. im a tranny go the fuck away

aphobic and panphobic people die by my blade

'are u pro-ship or anti-ship' im an adult with a job

^ to clarify, my feeligns on All Of That is complicated bc i think it's possible to explore darker theming (incest, underage shit, you get what i mean) that falls into the """proship""" category without being a creep abt it, there's always plenty of room for interesting storytelling that isn't something to jack off to using things like that. and even if someone IS being a creep about it if it's all fictional it's still kinda grossnasty but not inherently harmful as long as they're like keeping to themselves/spaces made for that kind of thing. it is possible for someone (typically younger) exposed to this kind of thing to believe these themes are alright IRL (speaking from experience unfortunately) but thats kind of an unfortunate inevitability. that and nobody can even seem to agree on wtf a 'proshipper' or even an 'anti' is. the definition seems like it changes with every other person i meet and that's not only annoying but can be very harmful (ex. calling some1 a proshipper bc they jack it to dubcon or some shit nd implying 2 others that they like kids or smth)

tl;dr don't bring this stuff near me i don't care this discourse if you can even call it that sucks shit

#pinned post

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oikadori · 4 years ago

Note

CONGRATS ON 500 Val! You seriously deserve every single one of those followers 🥺💕 So...for your event could I request word #17 and dialogue #13 with Oikawa?👉👈

OMG Beth!! Sorry for taking so long :v Thank u so much, lovee. I think you are like the first moot who like truly interacted with me. I’m happy that I’ve met you😍💞💞 Hope you like this!!

Camping Night with Seijoh

―Oikawa Tooru x f!Reader

Word: Cinnamon

Dialogue: “The blankets are supposed to be for both of us, you know”

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, enemies to lovers/suggestive

WC~700

“Did Iwaizumi kick you out of his tent already?”

“So mean Y/N, if I wanted to get bullied, I would’ve stay with Iwa-chan”

Oikawa is holding his pillow, keeping the mesh door open as his head peeks inside your tent.

It had taken you a hundred begs to finally convince your parents to let you go camping with Seijoh. Even though you were the team’s manager they weren’t fond of you being surrounded by boys who probably had their hormone levels to the top. but knowing your cousin was going too gave them some relieve.

“Why don’t you go with Issei and Maki?”

“Do you realize your cousin and Takahiro become my biggest bullies when they are together, right?

“That is not my problem”

You pull your blanket up covering your pijamas, trying to hide that soft spot you had for pandas and animals. However, his eyes catch sight of the little bear smiling, the pink background of your shirt that made you so ridiculously cute, Oikawa couldn’t content his goofy smile.

“Iwa-chan said he had to watch over the first-years–”, he sighs, curving his lips down as your eyebrows quirk at the sudden change of attitude from Seijoh’s captain, “–I don’t want to stay alone, okay?”

A smile forms on the corner of your lips as Oikawa looks away evidently flustered by his declaration.

“Don’t worry, no animal is going to eat you–”, he quickly lifts his gaze up at the sweetness of your voice as your lips twirls into a dangerous side-grin, “–They would intoxicate for the amount of products you apply in that hair of yours”

His eyes go blank as your laugh fills the small area your tent covered, making his jaw slacken, empty of any good comeback. He retracts his head before spinning on his heel to walk away from the pity situation.

“Wait! I’m kidding, I’m kidding–”, he huff at you as he waits for his so deserved apologize, cocking an eyebrow at you, “sorry, you can stay if you need to”

“You have a sharp tongue, Y/N. Do your parents know about his little girl being this devilish?”

“They don’t need to know”

He enters the tent, a grin on his face, as you shrug your answer away, the sight of his thighs and legs that his shorts give you makes heat rush to your ears. He sit crossed-leg next to you, leaving his pillow on the floor before placing his chin on his hand as his elbow rests on top of his leg, his eyes focused on you.

Your eyes can’t seem to drift away from his flexed thighs and you gulp harshly before running a hand through your tight bun, letting a little groan out that caught your visitor’s attention.

You take away your hairband, letting your locks fall in the form of soft waves over your shoulders, Oikawa’s eyes widen as a very known scent slips through his nose.

“I want to sleep so could you–“, suddenly he gets close to you, sniffling loudly before a smile settles on his face, “What the hell, perv??”

“Mmm, Cinamon. It seems I’m not the only one who uses SO many hair products, huh?

“Shut up”, you turn away, covering yourself with a fraction of the blanket as you hear him chuckling

“Goodnight, Y/N”

When your eyelids start closing, the cold air hits your shoulders out of nowhere, the blanket getting snatched by no other then the guy beside you.

“HEY, idiot!! The blankets are supposed to be for both of us, you know?”

“Mmm? In that case you’ll have to come closer, cutie pie”

He looks at you with a smile as you drag your body closer, rolling your eyes.

“You’re amazing!”

“I know”

You both get under the blanket, you throw some swears in the process when his leg touches yours, causing your lips to seal immediately. You close your eyes, slipping into the warmth of the thick material, only opening them once you’ve found a comfy position.

“Don’t think anything of this, Oikawa”

His face is so close from yours that you feel his hot breath against your skin. His chocolate eyes look into yours with the same intensity he looks at a volleyball when serving, your body tenses up as blush spreads across your features, making him grin before facing his back at you.

“Of course, not”

❀ Please reblog if you like it! ❀

Thanks for reading ♡♡♡

All the event’s posts will be tagged under cutiekawa’s Spooky Fall

#oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #oikawa scenarios #oikawa tōru #oikawa imagine #oikawa x y/n #hq scenarios #hq x you #hq x reader #hq oikawa #oikawa tooru #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #cutiekawa: Spooky Fall

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redhairedfeistynerd · 3 years ago

Text

Slush and a Side of Toys

Part 2

A/N: Winter/Holiday Festival Challenge. I chose #38 donating toys to children.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Warnings: 18+ Angst, frustrated reader, swearing, alcohol

Words:3500+

Part 1 here

Please like, comment and reblog. I appreciate it and thanks for reading.

All mistakes are my own

A reminder - my work is not to be re-posted anywhere.

Snow.

Of all the days to make the largest and final delivery, the sky had to open and drop copious amount of fluffy, white snow throughout the morning, which dramatically turned to rain in the afternoon. The streets were bound to be a disaster and you didn’t have time for this mess.

Trying to slide another box into your SUV was like playing a game of Tetris and one that you were about to lose. With a push, the last piece fit in, but as one went in, another slid out. From the top of the pile, a large box (in painful slow motion) popped out of its comfy home and dropped to the ground, a large splash soaking your left side with cold, slushy water. All the carefully wrapped toys, were now submerged in the grey slush water at your feet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you cried out to the sky and pulled your toque over your eyes. Lifting the wool from your eyes, you stared at the colossal mess at your feet, and tried to swallow down the lump that was quickly forming in your throat. Blinking fast, attempting to avoid that tears that were threatening to pour out of your eyes. What a mess.

“Y/N?” A male voice came from behind you, the sound of slushy footsteps quickly approaching.

Oh no. OH NO.

Not that voice.

Squatting down once more to try and quickly pick up some of the packages, you stop when two large feet stand in the water beside you, splashing dirty droplets of water in your face.

“Thanks, asshole,” you muttered.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Chris chuckled from above you and offered his hand.

“Get the fuck away from me, Evans,” you shouted, slipping while trying to stand up. You made another attempt to stand and turned to face him, a look of disgust clearly showing across your face.

“Damn. What exactly did I do to you again?”

“The fact that you are asking, pisses me off even more,” you shot back as you turned around and bent down, wrapping your arms around several sopping packages.

“Gifts for your boyfriend?” He asked, his tone emitting a slice of jealousy.

“These gifts are for the kids, you oaf,” you snapped back.

Chris didn’t have a response but leaned down to pick up a box floating near his feet “Here, don’t forget this one. I’m...I’m sorry for the snarky comment,” he said biting at his lip, embarrassment running through him. “I didn’t mean to talk to you like that,” he added holding out the small, mushy box to you. “Are these going to the women’s centre? I can help you get them there if you like.”

You stared back at him, trying not to bit your lip so hard in frustration. “I don’t need your help. Please, stay away from me, Chris,” you said grabbing the wet box from his hand. “They’re going to the Neighbourhood House.”

“At least let me get the car door for you, the trunk looks a bit full,” Chris said as he opened the back door.

Tossing the wet gifts into the back, not caring about the upholstery, you muttered a “thanks” Chris’s way before slamming the door and walking around to the driver's side, stopping to close the trunk on your way. Hopping in, you made the mistake of looking in your rearview mirror as you started up the car, Chris’s smirking face looking right at you. “Stupid good-looking asshole,” you snarled as you drove away from him, trying to ignore the small wave he gave as you drove down the street. Heading back to your office, hoping that your coworker was still there with the other pile of gifts that were ready to go out today to a few local schools.

The office was quiet, no papers shuffling, no phones ringing. You knew you had missed your chance to switch out some of the gifts before heading over to the Neighbourhood House that evening. This day was not going the way you had planned and if you couldn’t deliver the gifts promised, this day was going to go from bad to worse, very quicky.

You wanted to blame all of this on Chris, mainly because even looking at his handsome face infuriated you more than anything. But your reasonable side knew that the problems with the gifts had nothing to do with him and you were still holding a grudge from years before. You needed to get this out of your system, once and for all.

You poked around the storage room in your office for any extra toys; a few boxes remained and you remembered that several gift cards remained – a few of the older kids may want to buy something instead.

Okay, this will work. This isn’t so bad, right?

Packing up the new gifts in bags and leaving the soggy toys by your desk, you headed back to your car and off to the Neighbourhood House.

“What? Where did these come from?” You gaped at the bags stuffed with tissue paper of every colour, full of gifts. Boxes upon boxes filled the front of the entryway, piled neatly underneath a large tree that almost touched the high ceiling.

“A gentleman came by, maybe 20 minutes ago with all of these, he said that they were part of the delivery you were bringing by this evening.”

“But...I...” Completely confused but relieved that you didn’t need to explain the mess that had happened earlier in the day, you smiled at the shelter employee and made your way back out to your car to bring in the remainder of the gifts.

“Thank you for your kind donation this year, including our staff this year was not expected,” Marjorie the director of the Neighbourhood House gushed.

Was this some alternate universe where gifts started popping up where ever you went. What the hell was going on? Had your team approved an extra donation at the last moment?

It didn’t take more than a few minutes for you to figure out what was going on. There he stood, inside the main entrance of the building, hands in his pockets, bouncing on his heels, whistling a Christmas song and completely avoiding eye contact.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked, walking up to the smirking man.

“Trying to follow in your footsteps and help out the community more? Is that okay with you?” Chris snapped back at you.

Storming out of the building, you rushed to your car, in hopes of escaping Chris. His long strides caught up to you in no time, meeting you at the SUV but before you could put your hand on the door handle, he took hold of your arm and turned your body to face him.

“Why are you so angry at me? All I did after I saw you three years ago, was to send you flowers! Do you hate flowers or something?! I’m trying to figure out what the hell I did to you to make you act this way around me?”

“I have no idea what you’re going on about; you’re absolutely delusional,” you spat at him and went to pull at the handle too fast, ripping back one of your nails. You shouted out in pain, holding your finger tightly with the other hand, face flushing red out of anger and pain.

He reached out, placing his hand on your shoulder, trying to stop you from turning away. “Y/N-

“Don’t touch me!” You shouted, pulling away your arm in disgust, “the last time you did that, you broke my fucking heart!” And with those final words, you pulled on the door handle again, hopping into the car and screaming once more before starting the engine. Your head fell to the steering wheel, hitting your forehead into the it several times while angry words spouted out of your mouth.

Having no idea what was going on, Chris drove away from the shelter, utterly confused by what you had screamed at him. How the hell had he broken your heart? After spending the night at your place all those years ago, a lazy morning and a wonderful breakfast, he had made his way back home with the promise to see you again two days later. Unfortunately, his schedule had a last-minute change and he had to head out several days earlier than expected. He’d spoken with Scott and begged him to pop by your office and drop off a bouquet as an apology and that he would reschedule when he returned to town the following week. What if...

Chris turned the wheel fast, tires screeching as he maneuvered a U-Turn and headed back towards his house. Once parked, he slammed his car door and pushed his way into his house, the aggression taken out on the door as he slammed it. He immediately headed up to the guest room to find his brother. He found him quickly, the younger Evans sitting back and looking engaged in a book that once sat on Chris’s nightstand. Scott jumped when Chris burst into the room, letting out a scream and throwing the book towards his older brother.

“Chris! What the hell, man,” shouted Scott and got up for the bed to stand in front of his brother.

“I’ve got something to ask you and you better have an answer that makes sense,” Chris shouted. “What happened when I asked you to send Y/N flowers all those years ago?”

Scott nodded, his eyes looking to the ground, afraid to meet his brother's cold stare. “I... I forgot to do what you asked. I ended up with a call from my agent and was excited about the conversation I had and it slipped my mind. Plus, there were a thousand other things that came up that week. I’m sorry?” Scott apologized, looking up and meeting his brothers' eye, a little smile on his face, looking for forgiveness.

“Scott! What do you mean you forgot?” Chris stepped closer to Scott, almost nose to nose.

“Exactly what I said, I forgot to go by. I had a lot of other things going on that week if I’m remembering clearly. Was it too hard for you to call or message her?”

“I thought the flowers would be a romantic gesture. I can’t believe you never went by, now I know why she doesn’t want me near her. The thing is, when I got back, I did call her and she never picked up.”

“Do you not know how to leave a voicemail? A text? Are you really that idiotic?”

“She just...I just...” Chris couldn’t stop fumbling with his words.

“You’re something else, dear older brother. But I know you can talk and I know you have a romantic side. So, where to start?”

Chris shuffled his feet, embarrassed that he hadn’t given you the time and respect you deserved all those years ago. “I guess I should try to talk to her,” he mumbled.

Scott pushed his right shoulder, “Come on Rico Suave, you can fix this, right?”

“I’m pretty sure after her stewing on this for 3 years, that my chances are nil.”

“Bat those pretty blues and sing to her, I swear, use your Evans charm, or continue being a dumbass, your choice,” Scott shrugged.

Chris shook his head in annoyance and walked away from his brother. Could he fix this?

“So, lover boy, what’s going on in that big head of yours?”

“I’m going to go by her office and I’m going to beg her to come by the house.”

“And what

“I have an idea. What do you think about this...”

The chimes jingled as the door to your office opened “I’ll be right with you, I just have to send off this email,” you said. A few more words added and you hit the send button. “Okay, done. What can I help...” You tried to finish your sentence but that cat definitely had your tongue. The second your eyes met the blue eyes of the man you despised more than anything, you couldn’t finish asking your question.

“Y/N, please, please let talk to you about what happened, or what I think happened. Please,” Chris pleaded, seconds away from falling to his knees and begging.

You were tongue tied, the snark you could so easily dish out was stuck in the back of your throat, silenced.

“I’m sorry that I came by work, I didn’t know how else to get a hold of you. You did a pretty good job of blocking me on every form of media and communication I have. When I saw Rosie, I couldn’t help but ask about you.”

“Why are you here?” you whispered, trying to hold back tears that were fueled by sadness and anger.

“I want to, I need to talk to you about what happened. A few things came to light today, that I didn’t know and I would appreciate if you would take the time to listen and hear me out.”

Before you could try to respond, your phone sang out a tune, the one that you have reserved for Rosie. Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you now had an excuse to pull your eyes away from Chris.

Y/N. Please give him a chance. Hear him out, I swear it's worth it.

“Rosie is in on this too? Why are you involving my friends Chris? I swear, you better make this worth it.”

“Please. Y/N. After you finish up here, will you come by my place and I promise all I want to do is speak and I’d appreciate it if you’d be willing to listen.”

You needed to sit down. The anxiety building quickly, you couldn’t breathe. “Fine. I’ll come by in an hour. I’ll sit. I’ll listen. That’s all. Deal?”

Chris’s face lit up, a half-smile forming, “Deal, I’ll see you shortly.” He gave a little wave and headed back out into the night.

You sat in your car outside of Chris’s beautiful house, nervous as to what the night was going to bring. After all of these years, what did he need to tell you? Would a simple text not suffice? You took a deep breath and unbuckled your seatbelt, ready to pull off the Band-Aid quickly and get this all over with. Feet finally out of your car, you walked across the gravel drive to his front door, knocking and hearing Dodger bark at the sound. Footsteps followed soon after, the door unlocked, and there, there was the most handsome man you had ever seen (and couldn’t stand).

“I was wondering when you were going to get out of your car. I heard you drive up about twenty minutes ago and I figured you were having second thoughts about coming. I’m glad you’re here though, so thank you.” Chris moved aside and you walked into the entryway, pulling off your shoes and placing the beside the door. “Follow me, we can sit in the front room. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m pretty sure a drink is necessary.”

“Let me go grab something, take a look around, okay?”

Walking to the couch, you checked out the little plants and decorative items he had placed around the room. There were some great art pieces on his walls and when you got closer to the couch, the painting hung above it stopped you. “What the...” It couldn’t be, there was no way that he could have known all this time and not have said anything. This man lived to rub shit in your face – the ultimate gloater. In front of you, on the wall above his couch, was the painting you had donated all those years ago to the gallery. Dodger’s nails tapped on the wooden floor, pulling your mind (and jaw) back into place. You heard footsteps following and a tune being whistled as he walked through the doorway, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands.

“I thought you might like a glass of this, I...” he stopped halfway to you and realized that you were still standing in the middle of the room, your mouth half open and staring at him. His eyes flicked to the painting on the wall and then back to your face, you could see the look of panic slowly starting to take over. “I...I can explain,” he stuttered taking several steps closer to you.

“How-”

“There was something that was pushing me to find out and that night, I called the owner of the gallery and asked if I could find out which piece you had donated. She was hesitant to offer any details but as privileged as this sounds, I offered to donate a large sum to the charity and buy another painting from her gallery to get the information. I needed to see what you created and once I had it, I couldn’t stay away from you...which is why we kept running into each other the way we did. Please don’t be creeped out.”

“Are you completely forgetting about the whole fuck ‘n chuck moment? You hunt me down and flash your pearly whites at me, make me feel something for you, we get into bed, and poof, you disappear. Care to explain before I get the hell out of here? You replied angrily, your face flushing out of frustration.

“Y/N...”

“Y/N, what? Oh, it wasn’t the right time. I didn’t think it meant anything...”

“That’s not it, that’s not it at all.”

"Then what is it, Christopher. You never shut up and when I need you to say something, you clam up. What IS IT?” You couldn’t help but shout, you were angry, sad, and had no idea where this was going.

“If you stopped jumping over what I keep trying to say, then maybe I could get everything out. So, for a few minutes, can you keep your mouth shut. Shit, and I thought I was annoying,” he explained loudly.

You nodded; eyes wide that he had raised his voice to get his story across. You were wound up so tightly, incredibly hurt by his action's years ago, that you didn’t exactly know how to contain and cope with your emotions. You took a seat on the couch and looked up at him, still standing where he first entered the room and had stopped when he noticed you looking at your own art in his house. He took a few steps closer and looked to you, “Is it okay if I sit on the couch next to you?”

“I guess...”

Chris sat a comfortable distance from you, placed the wine glasses and bottle on the table and waited until you settled and looked to him to continue on.

“I messed everything up, I’m taking all responsibility for this giant mess.” Chris sat silent for a few moments, his fingers intertwined and his left thumb rubbing across the right. He was clearly nervous. Clearing his throat and lifting his head up, blue eyes meeting yours, he blinked once and began to speak. “It was never my intention to hurt you. I messed up and badly. When I left you that morning, my plan was to see you again, once I returned home from my work trip. Everything happened so fast that day and to be honest with you, my head was in the clouds; all of my thoughts revolved around you and the wonderful evening I had with you. I was so busy in dreamland, that I ended up almost missing my flight. I asked Scott to help me out and send a bouquet of flowers to you, with a note explaining that I had to leave earlier and that I would call you soon. The thing is, I thought he had followed through and didn’t even know until the other day that he had never sent the flowers or note to you. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I did try to call though, when I was home and you never answered and I figured the night meant nothing to you.”

You sat there, silent for a few moments trying to take in everything he had said “Well, aren’t we a bunch of idiots,” you said, looking at him, a smile on your face.

The corner of Chris’s mouth lifted, a smile in there. “Does this mean you forgive me?"

“I mean, I’m still upset but I get that miscommunication can happen and I mean, how many people go as far as calling a gallery to hunt down a painting and then buying it. You’re pretty unbelievable, Evans.”

“But do you forgive me?” Chris asked as he scooted closer to you and let his fingers crawl closer to yours.

You took a hold of his hand and brought it to your lips, and kissed his knuckles softly. “I do forgive you Chris and I hope you forgive me for how hostile I’ve been. I really appreciate what you did for the Neighbourhood House too, I’ve never seen anything like that and you saved the day, so, thank you.” You kissed his hand again and looked up at him, a smile still on his face.

Chris sighed and watched as you pulled his hand into your lap. “Y/N, is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?”

“That would make me incredibly happy,” you replied and moved in closer, meeting his soft lips again after all these years. “I’m still mad at you though, I hope you know that. And let’s not forget about Rosie. I can’t believe the two of you did this. I’m still mad at her too.

Chris pulled you in for another kiss, running his hands through your hair. “I know. I plan on making it up to you. I’ll help with every event; I’ll clean up your messy office. I’ll even carrying you and your toys through the slush.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and pull him down with you to lay on the couch. “I can’t wait for you to get started.”

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans x you #chris evans rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #writing challenge #ssholidaychallenge #redwrites

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spookysmujer · 4 years ago

Text

Or Nah, O. Diaz

Summary: You spend the night teasing Oscar and he ends up putting you in your place.

warning: s m u t (18+) 🥵, bratty!Reader

word count: 2k

requested by: @aneitii

A/N: I am so happy to be getting more and more requests, that y’all believe in me to bring to life your fantasies! SO REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I am getting back into the grove of writing fanfic again, on this blog and slowly on my @losolvidad0s blog. I hope you enjoy this babes! Please consider following this blog, heart/comment/reblog my content as well turning on the notifs for when I post!

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss @firebenderwolf @spookysnena @princesstiffxoxo @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98 @multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc (please let me know if you wanna be added or removed!)

(Gif belongs to @merakiaes 💫)

Nothing can beat a Friday night and good company. Especially when it’s those two things at the Santos house. The usuals have filled the backyard and the music is bumping. Everyone is having a good time, everyone except you.

The night didn’t start this way but as Oscar spent more time giving his attention to his compas rather than you it began to irritate you beyond belief. Granted, you can be a bit a brat when it comes to having his attention, tonight he knows that he’s upsetting you with it. And two can play at that game.

“Hey, I’m gonna be right back. It’s way too hot for these jeans.” You excuse yourself from the group of ladies you were drinking with to head into the house. The mischievous grin spreading across your face like a Cheshire cat.

You dig through the drawer you have as yours in Oscar’s dresser. Shuffling through the stack of bottoms to find what you were looking for and when you spot it, you internally squeal.

A perfect ploy to get your man’s attention and keep it on you, and you only.

The air is cooler as you step back out into the bustling backyard and immediate eyes are set on you. The pencil skirt, tight and short on your thighs and doing nothing but good things for your behind.

“Damn mama!” If everyone’s attention wasn’t on you then, Joker saying something has got it now. He holds a fist to his mouth and inhales at the sight of your smooth legs exposed.

Oscar’s eyes land on you and he can’t deny the twitch he felt in his pants especially when you had your back to him. He clears his throat loudly which signals everyone to take their eyes off you. Everyone knows how territorial Oscar is when it comes to you.

You walk pass Oscar, his eyes trained on you the entire time despite the people around him trying to strike up conversation. “Man, that is much better. Does it look okay?” The girls hype you up with oh’s and ah’s especially when you turn to show them your plump behind, looking over your shoulder to get a look yourself and you don’t miss the look Oscar is giving you, has been giving you.

He isn’t the type of guy to slip away to go fuck when he is hosting a party, which is why you are enjoying every second of this. Looking this nice in the skimpy outfit knowing that it will rile him up until everyone is gone.

After some conversation with a few people, Oscar whistles to get your attention. You look over at him and he tips his head for you to make your way over to him, you tilt your head to the side and mouth ‘no’ to him.

Oscar’s face contorts to irritation as you just smile and walk further away from him. The game you’re playing is a dangerous one and you know it too. Once you came across a post on IG saying, ‘Piss him off now, so he can fuck you harder later.’ The post circulating in your mind.

You start to think how rough he’ll be with you. How he’ll feel every inch of your body and kiss all the visible skin leaving marks to let his homies who you belong to. Despite your headstrong nature of independence, it’s something about belonging to someone that turns you on. The thoughts going right to your heat and you squeeze your thighs together.

As the party begins to die down and more people leave, you begin to feel the excitement course through your veins. Your eyes scan the backyard for Oscar but you can’t find him until you turn and bump into a body.

“Homies starting to leave.” He states the obvious and you pretend to look around like you haven’t noticed, “And you’ve been a brat tonight. You know exactly what you were doing putting that on, sucia.” He dips his head down until his mouth is next to your ear when he whispers that last word, breath hitting the side of your neck.

Your eyes close for a brief moment as you feel his body heat move away from you. He smirks as he stretches with his arms above his head and his skin peeps through below his flannel, his happy trail poking out and oh, you can’t explain how much you love to see it.

Oscar wipes his hand over his mouth and looks around before closing the space between you. Your face nearly against his chest as his moves his hand between your nearly touching bodies. It moves at the bottom of your skirt and his fingers brush against the lace fabric of your underwear.

When you feel the feather touches you recoil and grab his hand to move away. Oscar is never one for public displays of affection, always said that was for little kids like his brother and girlfriend. He hums when you look up at him.

“If your ass isn’t on the bed in 5, I’ll make you watch another hyna suck me off while you’re tied down to the bed.” You’re breathless as he spews out the filthy words.

It’s almost like the speed of sound that you are entering the bedroom. You step in slowly as you see the light of the conjoined bathroom shine under the door. A huff from your nose as you crawl on the bed, waiting for the unknown.

Oscar comes out with a towel dangerously low around his hips. You lay back with your knees up, swaying side to side and a finger between your teeth. He’s standing at the foot of the bed, as he leans forwards to rest his now balled up fist on top the sheets. His muscles bulging as well.

You open your legs, letting the skirt rise up towards your hips. The finger in your mouth now being suckled on like a ice pop on a hot day. With it coated with your saliva you bring it between your legs and into your panties that now sport a wet spot. “Mhmm,” You moan as you fingers begin to assault the swollen bud, so sensitive and yearning for Oscar’s touch.

He grabs your ankles to pull you to the bottom of the bed roughly, a little squeal escaping you. He keeps his hold on you as he pushes your legs apart, looking down at your wet, but clothed pussy. Oscar licks his lips as he pulls your panties to side, running his finger through your glistening slit. The feeling immensely pleasurable.

“This what I had to look forward to all night?”

Oscar’s eyes darken as they meet yours. This is the Oscar you want in the bed, the relentless one. The one who runs shit just as Spooky does. He lets your ankles go and grabs your hips roughly, lifting you off the bed and over on your stomach. Before you can push yourself up on all fours, he pushes your head down into the bed.

His hard member covered by the towel pressing against your ass, you giggle as your wiggle your hips. Oscar pushes your skirt up and your panties down around your knees. Your ass high up in the air, face down into the bed. Buzzing with excitement to be filled to the hilt with his delicious cock but your met with his mouth instead.

His tongue running from your clit all the way to your anus. You moan as he licks every inch of your bottom, tongue penetrating into your entrance. “O-oh, yes. That’s what I’m fucking talking about. Eat my fucking ass, babe.”

Oscar lets you call the shots for a second as he feels your body getting ready for a release. You’re a moaning mess as he attacks your nub, your kitty dripping with arousal and his saliva. The suddenly it stops just as you feel the knot forming.

You groan in frustration which makes Oscar chuckle. “What? You didn’t get to cum? Tough shit. See what happens when you be tease all night. I can tease too.” Oscar has a smug look on his face as you roll onto your back and fly a pillow towards him which he dodges.

The towel that was on his waist has since fallen off and his hard cock is standing and looking oh so ready to ruin you but Oscar is deciding to play this tease game with you.

“Uh, just fuck me!” You groan and cross your arms, legs crossed to get some kind of friction. And despite wanting to drag this tease game along, Oscar couldn’t resist you long. He loved how your body ached for him and how impatient you got wanting him.

He smiles at you and climbs in between your legs, dipping his head low to plant kisses on your shoulder then to your neck. Suckling at the skin and sinking his body into yours.

“Too much clothes, nena.” You let him pull you shirt over your head but he grasps it tightly around your wrists. He uses one of his hands as extra restraint to keep your arms pinned above you.

He pulls your underwear off your legs and wastes no time to push his member into your aching pussy. The gasp from you only adds to his neediness for a release. You’re beginning to squirm under him. You want to dig your nails into his skin and mark him up.

Oscar moves his hips slowly at first and at an angle, hitting the spot that sends a tingle through your entire body. Then his pace picks up and your skins are slapping together. “Fuuuuck, pussy so fuckin’ good.”

He is melting right into you, pace quick like a piston. You’re panting as he penetrates deeper with every thrust. You begin to squeeze your muscles when he fills you to the hilt.

You look at him and try to break from his grasp but he only holds you down tighter. He brings his hand between your bodies and begins to rub your throbbing clit, adding to the pleasure and nearly tipping you over the edge. This fuels you, “I wanna ride.”

He smirks and releases his hold on your wrists. You quickly shake off your top that he left to bond your wrists together quickly and you push him off you. He falls to your side and you pull your bandeau off, letting your breast bounce out.

You climb on top and reach back to guide his cock enough to let you sink back on it. Now bringing your hands to plant on his chest, you hips begin to move in circular motions then you start to bounce, the feeling so good, your creamy arousal is running down his shaft.

“I ain’t lasting long like this.”

“Me either.”

Your head falls back and you move your hips front to back, side to side on top him. The pace faster and faster as each second goes by. Oscar sees how into it you are. He takes the opportunity to overtake you.

He pushes his knees up to hit your ass and causes you to be taken by surprise and fall over forward onto his chest. His arms wind behind you to pin you down when his hips buck up at a mind blowing pace. His cock ramming up into you. Oscar is beginning to moan louder.

You bite his shoulder to suppress the overwhelming feeling that is soon to explode in you. The knot forming to breaking as you orgasm, “Fuck,papi, Keep going, cum inside me.”

“You know I will, I’m gonna fill you up, put a baby in you.”

Oscar grips you tighter and groans loudly as his hot seed spurts in you, his thrust not stopping and his cum beginning to drip down his shaft and onto his balls. You are withering mess now. His pace finally slowing down.

You’re unable to move, your skins glued together by sweat and lust.

“Jesus, babe.” You finally muster the energy to fall off him, you’re both laying there trying to catch your breaths. He only laughs and brings his hand to cup your mound, rubbing your clit to tease you. Your legs automatically close at the sensitivity

He keeps his hand there, “What are you doing down there?”

“Making sure my cum stays inside, I told you I’m giving you a baby and I meant it, bebecita.”

#Oscar Diaz #oscar spooky diaz #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz x you #oscar diaz x y/n #spooky diaz x you #spooky diaz x y/n #spooky diaz x reader #spooky diaz imagine #spooky x you #spooky x y/n #spooky x reader #oscar diaz smut #spooky smut #omb #on my block #on my block imagine #netflix on my block

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