#like what if they were walking around town at night

[stellamarielu]

handsy

joel miller x female reader

summary: joel is hopelessly touch starved and you just can't seem to keep your hands to yourself.

content: nsfw, 18+, age gap, cursing, mutual pining, mentions of male masturbation, hand job, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, good girl, breeding kink [if you squint]

author's note: guys i’m sorry I know this isn't my usual aidan turner brainrot, but i’m rewatching tlou and i needed to write some joel miller smut. i mean, aren't we all horny for that old man?

—

To put it quite plainly, Joel was touch starved. 

It had been a long time since he’d felt the hands of a woman on his body. Of course, given the current state of the world, he didn’t have much time to think about it.

But then he was all settled down in Jackson and his days were filled with mundane jobs, casual conversations, cozy living conditions, and you. 

You lived in the little house across the street from him and although your relationship began with awkward smiles and shy waves, Joel found himself getting closer to you over time. 

Now he was lingering on your front porch after you offered him coffee in the mornings and walking you into town when he had absolutely no business there, all to spend a little extra time with you.

From the beginning Joel somehow found himself not entirely annoyed by your persistence in breaking down his walls, and instead indulged in your constant questions and continuous attempts at bad jokes. Maybe it was because he felt bad ignoring your endless efforts to strike up friendly conversation; or perhaps he enjoyed your company because he was lonely, and you were an undeniably gorgeous young woman seeking out his attention. Even he was confused as to why someone like you would be putting so much energy into getting to know him. You were probably lonely too, Joel convinced himself that your friendly advances must’ve come from a place of hunger for basic human interaction. 

He would’ve had no issue fulfilling your need for friendship and community if it weren’t for how handsy you were. Of course, Joel knew your touch was never sexual. It always came from a place of innocence, just a welcoming nudge on the shoulder or a casual hand grazing his bicep. You were just someone who showed your appreciation through simple acts of physical touch, but to Joel those little gestures might as well have been you dropping to your knees in front of him. 

In fact, those thoughtless touches frequently made their way into Joel’s mind late at night when he couldn’t sleep.

He would think about the way your hands felt on his body; how soft and gentle they were. He would think about the way they brushed against his arms or his back, imagining what they’d feel like on his bare skin. He would fight against his own morality as his hand slipped into his pants touching himself at the thought of you. His fingers wrapping around his dick, holding back moans as he pictured it was your tender grip on him instead. 

He was disgusting

That’s what he told himself now, standing in your kitchen with your delicate little hand caressing his forearm as you laughed about something he said that most certainly wasn’t that funny.

You had convinced him to come over for dinner, and who was he to deny a warm meal? But now you were inches away from him at the kitchen sink after you had argued over who would do the dishes. Both of you working together to wash up, and Joel couldn’t keep himself from thinking about the warmth of your body and how soft it felt against his. 

It was all so domestic. You washing the plates then handing them over to him so he could dry and put them away. You were talking and laughing with full bellies and smiles on your faces. It was impossible not to soak in the simplicities of moments like this. And it was definitely impossible to ignore the way his skin was burning under your touch.

You knew you had a way of getting in other people’s personal space; touching others as you spoke to them. It was something you had always done, extending a hand in an effort to show you were listening or engaged. It was just a way of showing your appreciation and attention. Only, it was more than that when it came to Joel. Your relationship with him was strictly platonic, which was a real shame because you desperately wanted to touch him in more inappropriate ways.

You knew it was bad to think about him like that. He was a friend, yet you were constantly picturing what it would feel like to kiss him– to have your hands on him.

In an effort to fulfill these little fantasies, you were always finding ways to touch Joel. Obviously, it was only ever friendly, just softly grabbing his arm when you needed his attention or leaning your body into his when you walked side by side; such small moments of feeling the weight of his body beneath your hands, but it only ever made your secret obsession with him more intense. 

Like right now, your fingers were curling into his forearm as you laughed and you knew you needed to pull your hand away before you trailed it all the way up his arm tracing every inch of muscle as you went. Joel was just so big, and strong, and rough– it drove you fucking insane. You had never felt like this before, so pent up with sexual frustration for someone. It was almost embarrassing how badly you wanted Joel to bend you over the kitchen counter and have his way with you. 

You were ready to loosen your grip on his arm and pull away when you felt something coarse underneath your fingertips.

A scar. One of the many that littered his body.

You had noticed them before, but you had never felt them. Joel was wearing a short-sleeve shirt tonight, something he rarely did. He was always clad in long sleeves or jackets, which made you realize this was the first time you had ever touched the bare skin of his arm. 

Your hand lingered on his forearm and your eyes were fixed on the scar underneath your fingers, and Joel just watched. He watched the way you stared as you felt his skin. And then you were moving your fingertips against him, tracing the mark there, and he had to keep himself from shuddering under your touch.

“There are so many.” Your voice was hushed as you studied him, looking at the scars painted all over his skin.

“Yeah well…” He was trailing off with each stroke of your finger against him, losing his train of thought.

“I’m sorry.” 

The simple apology was all you said, but when your eyes met his, he could see the sympathy swimming in your gaze. You understood. That was one thing Joel appreciated about you more than anything– you understood each other. You respected his boundaries, never pushing him on the things he wasn’t willing to talk about.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” 

His smile was back, so gentle and kind as he looked down at you.

“Can I have my arm back now?” His voice was playful, and you realized you were still holding onto his forearm.

“Oh god, sorry.”

You let go abruptly.

“Sorry, I’m not the best at keeping my hands to myself.” You were joking about your bad habit of touching others too much. 

“I’ve noticed.”

Joel was going back to work, drying a dish and putting it away in an overhead cabinet, avoiding your stare. 

“Oh shit Joel. Sorry does it bother you? I’ll be more mindful from now on.” 

Oh, you were humiliated. All this time Joel was annoyed by your friendly affection and you were just constantly touching him.

“No. no, doesn’t bother me. Just-“ He was speaking as he continued doing dishes, still avoiding eye contact with you.

“Just what?” You were prying, but you didn’t care. That’s how things often went with you and Joel– you asking too many questions and him putting up with it. 

“Nothin’. Just doesn’t bother me that’s all. Don’t worry about it.” 

He was sidestepping the conversation entirely now. But if it didn’t bother him, then what? 

“Joel c’mon what were you gonna say?” 

You were reaching for him again, this time grabbing his bicep. The feeling of his thick, muscular arm in your grasp nearly had your breath hitching in your throat. 

He stopped what he was doing, giving in to your touch and turning to face you completely. His eyes were peering down on you, his expression unreadable. 

“Just distracting. That’s what I was gonna say. Distracting.” He was just staring as he spoke, his voice stoic.

Distracting? Joel was distracted by your touch? 

“But not… in a bad way?” You had to clarify before your mind started going down a rabbit trail.

“No. Not in a bad way.” 

You felt a fluttering sensation fill your chest at his confession.

Was Joel saying he liked when you touched him? That he liked it so much it made him lose focus? There was sudden surge of confidence bursting through you as you ran your hand further up his arm. You found the hem of his sleeve, toying with it between your fingertips.

“How do I distract you?”

Doing your best to make your voice sound innocent you stared at the material of his shirt in your hands, too nervous to actually look him in the eyes. 

“Just don’t know how you’re always so kind and sweet. Your hands are so gentle.” He was speaking quietly.

You allowed your eyes to find his after he complimented you, but you wished you hadn’t.

His gaze was fixed on you, searching your face in a desperate attempt to read the situation. You were inches away from each other, your bodies nearly pressed against one another with your hand still on his arm. 

“Do you think about me in a way friends shouldn’t think about each other?”

The question was trickling from your lips and into the silent room. You were testing the waters, dipping a toe in the potential pool of shared desire. 

“Because I do. I think about you all of the time.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you looked up at Joel. 

“What it’d be like to kiss you, to feel your hands all over my body.”

You let your touch travel up to his shoulder and over to explore the broad expanse of his clothed chest underneath your fingertips. 

“We shouldn’t.” His words were hesitant but his body didn’t move in the slightest.  

“Why not?”

Joel could think of a million reasons why not. Starting with you being half his age and ending with the fact that sex could ruin the perfectly good relationship that had taken months to form between you.

But as he looked down at you, your lips all pouted and your eyes full of hope, he threw all caution to the wind.

Fuck it.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your face, bringing his head down and crashing his lips into yours.

His kiss was hungry and rushed but still somehow tender. Your mind was reeling at the taste of his mouth against yours. Your hands found solace at the nape of his neck, arms slinging up to rest on his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

Your kitchen suddenly felt so hot as the sweltering tension between you and Joel had finally reached it’s peak. 

“Fuck sweetheart if you only knew half the things I thought about you.” His voice was breathless as he broke your kiss.

Joel’s mouth trailed down your jaw placing impatient kisses on your skin. 

“Tell me.” You were practically begging as you moaned at the feeling of his warm lips on your neck.

“Think about those sweet little hands of yours on me.” 

He was nipping and sucking behind your ear. You weren’t sure if it was the way his mouth was caressing your skin or the words he was speaking between kisses, but it had a whine slipping from your lips. 

“Where Joel?” The words were a whimper coming deep within your throat as he continued his assault on your neck. 

“Jesus Christ sweetheart you’re gonna kill me.” He was muttering into the curve of your shoulder and the hum of his words against you had you losing your mind. 

“Do you think about them here?” Gaining just an ounce of composure, your voice was calm and collected as you slid your hands down his torso. 

You were careful to feel every little detail of his body as you let your touch wander lower. The tense muscles of his abdomen were hard to ignore as your hands found the button of his jeans. 

“All the time sweetheart.” He was admitting to his dirty thoughts. Bringing his hands to thread through your hair and pulling your gaze to meet his so you could see the seriousness in his eyes as he spoke. 

“Think about how soft they’d feel wrapped around me.”

Oh. It was prevalent now more than ever that Joel had entered an entirely new headspace. The way he was talking to you, the way he was looking at you; It was all fueled by complete and utter sexual desire, and you couldn’t get enough. You wanted to hear more filthy words come out of his mouth, you needed it. 

“Joel..” You were all but moaning out as you unzipped his pants, eager to get your hands on him.

He was pulling you in for another hungry kiss as you shoved his jeans down just enough to get your hands into the waistband of his underwear. Here you were in the middle of your kitchen with your hands down Joel’s pants– something you didn’t foresee happening when you invited him over earlier that day. But the two of you were so fucking pathetic and needy, having finally given into your feelings for one another. There was no time to waste, you needed to feel every single inch of him right here next to your kitchen sink.

The groan that left his lips when you finally had his cock enveloped in your gentle touch was enough to send a rush through your entire body. You pumped him up and down making sure to maintain a slow pace to purposefully draw another sinful noise from his mouth.

Just as you thought, your mild movements had the man in front of you sighing out in pleasure. It was a sigh of true relief; you wondered about the last time Joel had been with someone like this. The thought spurred you on, making your hand move faster from the excitement of being the first person in a long time to make him feel this way.

Joel’s jaw tensed and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head when your eyes flickered down to his dick. You were watching your own hand as it worked to bring him closer to completion. He wasn’t accustomed to this– having a pretty young thing handling him like this. There was no way he was gonna last long, not with your delicate hands sliding on his cock and your innocent gaze peering down between your bodies. 

In seconds his hand was on your wrist halting your movements. 

“Joel-“

You were ready to protest but your words were caught in your throat as he lifted you onto the kitchen counter. His lips were back on yours in a messy kiss while his hands fumbled with your jeans, practically ripping them from your body. 

“Need to feel ya darlin’.” He was panting out against you when his hand came in contact with your core, the thin material of your panties stopping him from touching your bare center. 

You didn’t have to feel them to know how wet your panties were. They were drenched the second your hand was on Joel’s arm earlier. All you had to do was think about the man and a pool of arousal would appear between your legs.

“Fuck you’re soaked.”

The words were laced with pride as he felt the ruined cloth with his fingertips. You wanted to moan at the feeling of his hand putting even the tiniest bit of pressure against that needy spot between your legs. You wanted some sort of relief– needed to feel him touch you.

As if he could read your mind, Joel was pushing your panties to the side and gliding a finger over the wetness pooling at your opening.

“If I knew you were this needy for me, would have done this a long time ago.”

As the words left his lips he was slipping a single finger into you at an agonizing pace. Slowly moving it in and out while you gripped at his arms for some sort of stability.

Fuck– even just the one finger moving in and out of you insanely slow was enough to have you seeing stars. So when he added a second you nearly dug your nails into Joel’s arm hard enough to leave marks.

His fingers were working into you, each stroke more mind numbing than the last. He was pushing and curling them and the little noises leaving your mouth were absolutely pathetic.

“Your little whimpers are so pretty baby.” 

Baby. All these endearing pet names he was calling you had you falling apart. You were preening underneath Joel’s touch and every time he called you sweetheart, or darlin, or baby, you were further subdued into a state of surrender for him. 

“So pretty’n sweet just for me.” He was mumbling with his fingers knuckles deep inside you.

You could feel the pressure building in your core with each deliberate movement of his fingers. Your gaze found his and the look of need consuming him pushed you closer to the edge. Your eyes were locked on one another, your forehead pressed against his as you gripped his arms tighter. 

“C’mon sweet girl, let me hear it.” Joel’s words were a low growl as he coaxed your orgasm from you.

“Wanna hear the pretty little sounds you make when you come undone.” 

His whisper was the final blow that had you spiraling toward release. You were chanting his name as you clenched around his fingers.

Your chest was heaving, and you could hardly think straight but you didn’t hesitate to pull Joel closer to you.

He was standing between your legs as you sat on your kitchen counter, your chests almost touching and his hard cock inches away from meeting your entrance. 

“Joel please.” You were out of breath and nearly speechless, still shaking from your climax, but you needed the satisfaction of Joel filling you. You wanted more than his fingers.

In an instant, he was lining himself up with you and pushing his tip in just enough to make you groan in pleasure. Hearing you beg for him like that– his name dripping from your sweet lips, Jesus he’d do anything you asked. 

You were moaning out satisfied little hums with each inch of him that filled you. He was pushing into you slowly savoring every pulse of your walls around his cock.

“So tight sweetheart.” His voice was low as he watched between your bodies. His eyes were staring at your sweet little cunt as you sucked him in deeper and deeper, so needy to be filled– so greedy for him.

You could only moan in response. The feeling of him stretching you out had the coil in your abdomen already tightening again.

He was pushing into you to the hilt and you instinctively grabbed at his shoulders, gripping and pulling at him in pleasure. You just needed to feel more of him– all of him. Your hands ached to feel every square inch of his body.

With your fingers splayed out on his back, Joel pulled out only to thrust back into you fully. Doing this over and over again until you were nearly screaming out underneath him. He could feel your fingertips digging into his shoulder blades which only made him drive into you deeper.

He was thrusting and you were a moaning, writhing mess against him, your bodies meshing together on the tile of your kitchen counter. The lewd sounds of whimpers and skin slapping filled the room and all you could think about is how close you were to coming apart again. Your legs clenched around Joel’s waist as your core strained.

Without warning, he brought his hand between you, letting his thumb fall to your clit. He was rubbing lazy circles into your bundle of nerves while his dick repeatedly hit the perfect spot inside you and your body nearly went limp.

“Got another one for me?” His words were broken by grunts.

“Wanna feel you squeeze around me while you cum sweet girl.”

His dirty words were going to shove you right over the edge. With each word he spoke, you pushed yourself closer to the finish line wanting nothing more than to please him.

You felt your body begin to shudder and your second orgasm of the night set in.

“Atta girl. There she is. Good girl.”

That was it. The words of encouragement you needed to completely let go. You were whimpering and gripping onto Joel as your release rushed over you.

The way you were clenching and squeezing around his cock made Joel’s head spin. You were nearly pushing him out, it was so tight and warm and Fuck- he was losing it.

You were barely tethered to earth as he continued sliding in and out of you. His pace was ruthless as he chased his own high. He was fucking you straight through your orgasm, the feeling of it too much for the both of you.

His hands were pawing at your waist, holding onto you as he thrusted relentlessly. The breathy moans and inaudible profanities coming from his mouth signaled his impending release.

You were pulling him in closer with your hands on his back, pushing him into you deeper.

“I want you to cum inside.” You were whining out.

You weren’t sure how you were even forming coherent sentences at this point but the only thing more important than regaining your sanity was the idea of Joel spilling into you when he finished.

“Please Joel, wanna feel it.”

There you were begging for him again. He had absolutely no self control when you spoke to him like that. And when he pulled back to get a good look at you, he almost lost himself entirely. Your gaze was glossed over and your eyelids heavy, you were completely fucked-out on his cock. It was enough to finish him off.

The look in your eyes and the feeling of your walls so tight and inviting around him, had Joel coming undone. He was leaning forward and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a long drawn out moan.

His load was shooting into you all wet and warm. It was coating your insides and making you hold on tighter to the man doubled over on top of you.

You sat there, your bodies molding together, breath catching and hearts beating. Both of you in shock over how you ended up in this position after a harmless meal shared at your kitchen table.

“So…” You were still breathless as you spoke, trying to gage how Joel was feeling about your current situation.

“Should probably finish those dishes huh?”

He was picking his head up from the comfort of your shoulder and tilting his neck to motion over to the sink next to you.

He was wearing the goofiest smile all sex drunk and proud.

If Joel’s expression told you anything; that wouldn’t be the last time the two of you end up fucking on your kitchen counter.

my masterlist

[rafesangelita]

♡ deciding to take a ride on the ‘tunnel of love’ roller coaster at the annual valentine’s day fair, rafe happens to catch you before it starts, conveniently locking himself in next to you. annoyed, you tell yourself you’ll be out and away from the man once the ride is over but (un)luckily for you, it just so happens to break down, leaving you two stuck together until it’s fixed..

warnings: one sided enemies to lovers (reader is the one who can’t stand rafe lol), forced proximity, teasing, flirty banter, slight angst (just a teeny tiny bit, it’s literally almost nonexistent), light fluff

a/n: now presenting… ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE’ 🤍 my town just so happens to be having a valentine’s day fair.. maybe (hopefully) i’ll go!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.4k

[7:57 PM] bestie ♡: it looks like kelce is going to take me out for v-day after all!! don’t wait for me, i’ll catch up soon, promise!

you had just bought an extra large funnel cake for you and your best friend to share when you read her text, your sugary sweet smile faltering as you took a seat at a nearby bench. “more for me, i guess..” you sighed, feeling a little bit silly at the fact that you sat here by yourself when everyone who passed you by was either in a group setting or hand in hand with someone who was most likely their significant other.

you picked at the fried goodness, not really feeling as festive as you were just two minutes ago. “yo, y/n!” you recognized the voice before you even looked up, your eyes immediately rolling as none other than rafe ‘insufferable daddy’s money’ cameron made his way over to you. ‘please let this be quick..’ you whispered under your breath, not sparing the man a single glance as he plopped down ridiculously close to you.

“what do you want, rafe?” he smiled when he heard his name roll off of your tongue, his muscular arm draping across your shoulders as his mouth dropped next to your ear. “can you at least act like you could tolerate me?” you scoffed, shrugging him off. “no, i can’t,” you finally looked at him, “because even that is too difficult to do.” he swallowed thickly, feeling slightly defeated before he went for the funnel cake that sat in your lap.

“i’m really not that bad, i’ll make you realize that soon.” rafe was also too confident and cocky for your liking— more reasons you could add to your seemingly never ending list as to why you think you two would never work out.

“i highly doubt that.” rafe was licking powdered sugar off of his fingers when you met his gaze again, your eyes flickering down to his tongue. the one thing that you couldn’t put on your list was that he wasn’t hot. anyone with eyes can tell you that rafe was insanely attractive, but of course, you’d never admit that to him out loud.. or so you thought. “you’re staring.” he smiled when he saw that your eyes stayed trained on his mouth, a smug expression taking over his features.

you blinked away, deciding you had enough chit-chat for one night. “in your dreams, ‘cameron.” rafe watched you get up from your seat, gladly taking the funnel cake you basically shoved into his hands. “why, thank you.” he took another piece, popping it into his mouth. you flashed him a fake smile before adjusting the strap of your crossbody purse. “i’ll see you around!” he called out, waving obnoxiously in your direction. “no you won’t!” you whispered to yourself, deciding to explore the fair a bit more.

little did you know conversation between you and rafe was far from over.

you walked around the fair grounds for almost fifteen more minutes before you had decided you were better off at home eating some greasy takeout and having a rom-com movie marathon in nothing but your comfy pj’s.

just as you were on your way to the exit, a flashing heart with the words ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE.. find your lover inside!’ caught your attention. deciding you’d at least inquire about it, you walked up to the ride operator and asked away. “excuse me! hi, i was just wondering what does the whole ‘find your lover inside!’ thing mean?” the woman lit up as if she had been dying to answer this question.

“so basically there’s another roller coaster coming from the other side, and once you two meet inside, the ride will stop for two minutes before coming back out to the respective entrances.” she explained. “so it’s like speed dating?” you smiled, the idea enthralling you. “yeah, that’s exactly it!” she nodded. you weighed out your options and decided a little excitement wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“i’m suprised you don’t have a line, how much is it to get on?” you took your wallet out of your purse as she replied. “if you have a full-access wristband it’s free, but if not then it’ll be five dollars exactly.” you handed over the small bill, smiling to yourself as she let you through the metal gate. “it looks like two people can fit in here—” just as you stepped in, rafe came running from the opposite direction.

“stop the ride!” he shouted, his chest rising and falling as he bent over to catch his breath. you blinked. “it’s not even on, you drama queen.” taking a seat, you were about to pull the metal bar over your lap before he shouted again. “i’ll give you fifty bucks if you let me get on with her!” you crossed your arms over your chest, not expecting the ride operator to actually let him in. “seriously?!” you gasped when he walked through, flashing you a wink.

“sorry!” she pushed the guardrail over you and rafe until it locked in place before starting the ride. “this will all be over in two minutes.�� you glared at him, trying to scoot as many centimeters away from him as you could. “that’s fine with me.” he shrugged. he leaned back in the cart, red and pink flashing lights illuminating the space in which you two rolled into slowly.

rafe kept his eyes on you, watching as you avoided his gaze. “why don’t you like me? serious question..” you sighed, finally giving him your full undivided attention. you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. “what?” you acted like you didn’t hear him the first time, wracking your brain for any kind of answer. he smiled teasingly, pointing a finger at you. “i asked you why you don’t like me and you can’t even answer me!” you waved him off, facing the other way to hide the smile on your lips.

truthfully, you didn’t really know who rafe was. like just by himself as an individual. you knew that his friends were all assholes though, including the one who your best friend was willing to drop everything for. “i hate your friends,” you started, “and you are who you keep company with, sooo..” rafe cleared his throat as the roller coaster came to a stop. the inside of the ‘love tunnel’ was lit up with baby cherubs along the walls, red hearts and fairy lights adorning the interior.

“me and my friends are very different from each other.. i think you’d be surprised.” you hummed, adjusting the pendant on your necklace. “maybe..” the other roller coaster cart strolled in from the other side, the seats empty. “i guess it’s a good thing that i tagged along, since you would’ve been all by yourself if i didn’t.”

you glanced over at him, his blue eyes standing out in the pinkish lighting. “..yeah, i guess.” rafe’s head shot up as soon as the words left your mouth. “you really think so?” he scooted closer, the action making you laugh. “don’t push it.” you warned him, in which he held his hands up defensively. “okay, okay!” rafe had this smitten look on his face as if making you smile was his life’s greatest achievement.

“so you told me why you didn’t like me, which is fair, but i want a real chance at proving you wrong. can you at least give me that?” rafe hesitantly rested a hand on your knee, the hopeful look in his eyes making your heart melt into a soft puddle of mush. “hmm..” you pretended to think, the anticipation making rafe’s leg bounce. “okay. only under one condition though..” rafe nodded frantically.

“anything.”

“tell me why you like me so much when i avoid you like the plague, and never seemingly look in your direction.. like ever.” the man next to you snorted. “you want me to go down my full list? ‘cause we’ll be sitting here all night—” just then, the ride operator’s voice boomed through the intercom speakers from inside the tunnel. “hi, i’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re having some technical difficulties and my electrician guy says it’ll be at least an hour or two before you could leave. i promise to issue a full refund once you two are off.”

you and rafe looked at each other half concerned and half amused. “..so, you were saying?”

[dearru]

i miss you, come here ! | t.oikawa

-> pairing: ts!oikawa tooru x gn!reader | sfw | cw: headcanons, suggestive content under the cut, reader is in university, long distance, manga spoilers ig, bittersweet ending | mlist 

-> rq: boyfriend headcanons with oikawa tooru

boyfriend!oikawa who started dating you in high school. you were heartbroken when he told you he was going abroad post-graduation, but he assured you that long distance would work.

boyfriend!oikawa who has never failed to text you “good morning” and “goodnight” despite the time difference between you guys. the messages are also always accompanied by a selfie of him. he says it’s to prevent you from “ forgetting about his pretty face,”  but that’s nearly impossible to do considering images of him are plastered on every magazine you read and news channel you turn on. it’s nice to have pictures of him that are solely for you, though. 

boyfriend!oikawa who brags to everyone he meets in argentina about how lucky he is to have you as his partner. his teammates feel like they’re the ones dating you from how often he rambles about how much he loves you. he could drone on for hours about how smart you are for going to university, or how cute you are when you scrunch your nose at him. he’s obsessed with you and makes it everybody else’s problem. 

boyfriend!oikawa who gets offended when his PR team suggests marketing him as an available bachelor to increase his popularity. he reassures you that he’d never sacrifice the integrity of your guys’ relationship to get a little ahead in his career. he express-ships a big bouquet of flowers to your door as a way to apologize even though he did nothing wrong. (he calls it “proactive damage control”) 

boyfriend!oikawa who unfollows everybody except for you on his social media accounts to prove his devotion. this causes quite a stir and results in your classmates staring at you when you walk into your lectures. you’re known around campus as “oikawa tooru’s significant other,” but you and him agree that there are worse things to be known as. 

boyfriend!oikawa who notices how stressed you get from being a university student, so he surprises you with a round-trip business class ticket to argentina. he squeezes you so tight when he sees you for the first time that you think you may suffocate. as he holds you, you can feel the wetness of his tears against the back of your shirt, but you decide not to tease him about it. you missed him too.

boyfriend!oikawa who’s excited to show you the life he’s built for himself. he shows you his favorite beaches, introduces you to his teammates (who you apologize to in broken spanish about how annoying your boyfriend is), and takes you to the best restaurants in town. when you two go out for food, he orders for you in perfect spanish, and the dishes he recommends for you to try are always better than what you would’ve ordered for yourself. it reminds you how well he knows you.

boyfriend!oikawa who’s shocked when you admit one night during dinner that you’re afraid that he doesn’t need you anymore because of how well he’s assimilated to argentina without you. he takes your hand and fervently reassures you that despite moving here, you’ll always be his home.

boyfriend!oikawa who won’t let go of your hand the entire time you’re walking on the beach afterward. “people are staring, tooru.” “let them stare.”

boyfriend!oikawa who takes you to the airport when you eventually have to leave. he impulsively buys a ticket for the flight solely to wait with you at your gate for as long as possible. when it’s finally time to board, he watches with teary eyes as you walk away. it takes all his willpower not to get on the plane with you.

boyfriend!oikawa who loves you more than life itself and is counting the days until he can be with you again. 

extras ! (cw: suggestive :3)

boyfriend!oikawa who’s loved kissing you since the beginning of your relationship, but now that you’re long distance, there’s a little more desperation in his touch. during nights spent together, he makes a habit of littering you with kisses. his lips start at the top of your head, make their way down to your stomach, and if he’s feeling lucky he goes a little further.

boyfriend!oikawa who unwinds after practice by hand-feeding you food. it’s cute at first, but sometimes it goes overboard and makes you wonder what his true motivations are.  “try this one. this one too!” “tooru, you’re gonna make me choke” “im just getting you prepped!” “FOR WHAT.” 

boyfriend!oikawa who almost convinces you to extend your trip simply by how well he knows how to make you tick. when you kiss for the last time, his hand snakes down your waist and pulls you closer in a way that leaves you breathless. he laughs at your blissed-out expression and tells you, “you’ll have to visit your lonely boyfriend again to get another one of those.”  you roll your eyes and whisper in his ear to inquire about other things you’ll get when you visit him again, and he goes red in the face.

—a/n: me making oikawa content on this blog is the equivalent of walking into your kitchen and seeing a fish cooking pasta.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When You Call Them Clingy| Hyungline Pt3

Hyungline x Gn!Reader

(i was supposed to release this yesterday but things came up im sor sorry its late but here you go!!! idk how i feel about this :/)

Bangchan

The night air was cool as you walked into the dimly lit bar, Felix by your side, his expression a mixture of concern and forced cheer. You had told Chan that you had plans- and wouldn’t lie to him- and that meant actually going through with your impulsive decision to make plans.

So, here you were, out with Felix, pretending that the weight in your chest wasn’t getting heavier with every minute that passed.

Felix had noticed, of course. He always did. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked, voice soft. "Maybe you can-"

You forced a smile, waving him off. “Yeah, of course. I need a distraction.”

But the more you drank, the more you realized it wasn’t a distraction at all. Every sip burned, and every moment you weren’t thinking about Chan consciously was just a moment your subconscious filled with the memory of his face. His voice. The way he had shut you out completely after you made such a careless comment.

Meanwhile, across town, Chan sat in the corner of him an Jeongin’s apartment, drink in hand, gaze distant. Jisung had been invited over as well to have a few drinks and relax, since Chan also felt uneasy with the excuse he had made. Both boys sensed that something was off, but neither of them asked, just quietly sipping their drinks.

Until finally they couldn't take it anymore.

“You good, hyung?” Jisung finally asked, watching Chan down another shot.

Chan huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing his face. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Jeongin raised a brow. “You sure about that?”

Chan didn’t answer. He just stared at the ice in his glass, swirling it absentmindedly. The alcohol was dulling the ache in his chest, but only slightly. He had been pushing himself to stop thinking about you, to accept that you needed space, but it wasn’t working.

Not when his mind kept replaying the way you had looked at him before you left. The way your voice had sounded too quiet when you said goodnight.

The way it had sounded angry when you called him clingy.

Did he really do too much? What if-

Then his phone vibrated.

Felix.

Chan frowned, answering quickly. “Lix?”

“Hyung,” Felix said, exhaling sharply. “I need you to come get Y/N.”

Chan sat up immediately. “Who? You're with Y/N?" 

Was Y/N originally planning to hang out with Lix?...I thought they had just made an excuse-

Felix hesitated, his voice tight. “Y/Ns…not doing great- won't let me help-" Chris struggled to hear over the noise of the bar.  "-keeps pushing me away, saying they don’t want me to be ‘clingy'- out of -mind and refuses to- help them- get home.”

Chan felt the words like a slap to the face. His chest constricted, at the thought of you being drunk out of your mind.

“I’ll be there in ten,” he said, already grabbing his jacket. “Send me the location.” He stood up abruptly and wobbled slightly.

Jisung and Jeongin exchanged a look before quickly standing as well. “We’re coming with you,” Jeongin said firmly. "I'll drive, you drank more than either of us."

(For legal purposes disclaimer: y'all do NOT drink and drive. it's dangerous and can have serious repercussions. always try your best to have a sober friend around as well, in case of emergency)

Jeongin snatched Chris's key's and they all hopped into the car.

You tended to worry him when you were drunk, and he wasn't sure what to expect.

The drive felt agonizingly long. The alcohol still buzzed faintly in Chan’s system, but the moment he heard Felix’s voice and heard that you were in trouble - or causing trouble maybe -he sobered up fast. His heart pounded against his ribs as worry gnawed at his insides.

The second they stepped into the bar, his eyes scanned the room until he found you. And his breath caught in his throat.

You were sitting at a table, arms crossed tightly over your chest, brows furrowed as Felix spoke to you softly as he patted your back. But it was clear you weren’t listening. Your eyes were glassy, and your lips were pursed like you were trying not to cry as you shook your head, then slamming it onto the table like an angry toddler.

Felix noticed them first, exhaling in relief. “Thank God,” he muttered.

Chan wasted no time. He was at your side in an instant, crouching down so he was at eye level. “Y/N.”

Your head snapped toward him, and for a moment, your expression flickered with something so raw, so vulnerable, that it made his chest ache. But then your lips wobbled, and you hiccuped, looking away. “Go away.”

Chan’s jaw tightened. “Not happening, baby. Come on, let’s get you home.”

You shook your head stubbornly. “No.”

"You're being a pain, Y/N-ie. To Felix of all people do you want to upset him?"

Chan glanced at Felix, who gave him a knowing look. Felix wasn’t upset- he understood. It wasn’t that you didn’t want help. You just didn’t want it from anyone who wasn’t Chan.

You still stubbornly shook your head so Chan looked at Jisung who nodded.

Jisung sighed, mocking anger and crossing his arms. “Y/N you're being difficult, we can do it the easy way or the hard way. Or do you want to make us upset and disappointed?”

The moment Jisung spoke, you immediately nodded, causing a chuckle from the boys. "Okay, I'll listen."

The boys had long since known Jisung was your first bias, and that was often used for leverage in situations like these, when you're brain was too fogged to do much other that realize you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of someone you admired. 

Carefully, Chan reached out, his fingers grazing your wrist. “Y/N,” he murmured, softer now. “Ready now?”

At that, your whole body seemed to deflate. Your lips trembled, and your eyes welled up with tears. “I was mean to you,” you whispered.

Chan exhaled softly, still caressing your wrist. “I know.”

“I didn’t mean it.” You whimpered.

“I know,” he said again, this time even softer.

Your face crumpled. “I’m sorry.”

Chan sighed, his chest tightening unbearably. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

This time, you didn’t fight him. You let him help you up, let him guide you out of the bar, his arm steady around your waist. The moment you were outside, the cool air hit you, and your steps wobbled. Chan adjusted his grip, holding you closer.

“I miss you,” you mumbled into his shoulder. Wiping your snot on him.

Chan swallowed hard. “I’m right here.” He noticed your were wiping your nose on him and he rolled his eyes lovingly. "You need a tissue?"

“You were mad,” you said, your voice tiny.

“I was hurt,” he corrected gently. “But I wasn’t mad.” He helped you get into the back seat of the car. "Sometimes, we just have to learn to handle our emotions a bit better. After some thought, I know we both could have reacted in better ways. I should have told you how I felt, and you should have told me how you felt. I know you were upset and didn't mean it, but it doesn't take away any of the hurt Y/N. I 'cling' to you because I'm deeply in love with you.

Your fingers clutched at his sleeve. “Are you leaving me?” You said looking up at him with wide eyes.

Chan paused buckling you in. His eyes widened as he turned to look at your face fully. “What?”

“You’re not gonna leave me, right?” you whispered, your voice thick with tears. “I feel so bad, Chris. I don’t want you to go.”

Chan exhaled slowly. He wanted to be frustrated with you- wanted to tell you how much you had hurt him, how dismissing his care had stung. But looking at you now, your face scrunched up in guilt, your body trembling slightly from the alcohol and the weight of your emotions…he just couldn’t.

Instead, he finished buckling you in and slid next to you and pulled you into him, his head resting atop your head. “I’m not leaving you,” he murmured. “You’re stuck with me, okay?”

You sniffled against his chest. “Promise?”

His grip tightened. “Promise.”

Jisung and Jeongin exchanged a glance but said nothing. Felix let out a quiet sigh of relief as he climbed in the back with you two.

"You're not clingy." You said quietly on the ride back. "I was upset but you're not clingy."

Chan hmmed in acknowledgement, petting your hair.

You scooted closer to him, burying yourself into him even more.

"Can I be clingy though?" You muttered sleepily, eyes fluttering to a close.

"That's all I want." He murmured quietly, kissing the top of your head.

"I love you." 

"I love you."

As Chan held you close, feeling the tension in your body slowly begin to ease, he knew one thing for certain: no matter what, he wasn’t going anywhere. And so he squeezed you a bit tighter, clung to you.

And as you drifted off into sleep you realized- 

How could you ever think you didn't want this?

——————————————————————————

Minho

The moment you got home, you regretted running away. The sinking feeling in your stomach wouldn’t let up, and your mind kept replaying the scene over and over. The way Minho looked at you- shocked, maybe even a little hurt- made you feel even worse.

You curled up on your bed, hugging your knees to your chest, guilt weighing you down like a stone. He deserved to be heard. You had made a mess of things, and now, if you wanted to fix it, you had to be the one to take the first step.

The next morning, you gathered your courage and went back to his apartment. Your heart pounded as you stood in front of his door, staring at the keypad, remembering how easily you had let yourself in the night before. This time, you knocked.

A moment later, the door opened, revealing a very tired-looking Minho. His hair was disheveled, his eyes slightly puffy as if he hadn’t slept much. When he saw you, his lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across his face before he stepped aside wordlessly to let you in.

You hesitated for a moment but stepped inside, greeted by the familiar scent of his apartment. The cats lounged around lazily, their tails flicking as they acknowledged your presence. The silence between you and Minho stretched, thick with unspoken words.

You turned to face him, gathering every ounce of courage you had. “I’m sorry.”

Minho’s brows furrowed slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “For what exactly?”

“For everything.” You exhaled shakily. “For calling you clingy when you were just being sweet, for lashing out at you because I was feeling insecure. And for last night- for not even giving you a chance to explain.”

Minho sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You really hurt me, Y/N.”

“I know.” Your voice cracked. “And I hate that I did. I-” You swallowed. “I saw you with her and I just- jumped to the worst conclusion....”

He studied you for a moment, arms crossed, his gaze softer now but still guarded. "So...that is what you thought." He said quietly.

You blinked and nodded. "I...know you wouldn't though. I was emotional and I...don't..." You swallowed, trying to blink back tears.

Minho sighed and crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe to the living room. “You should’ve asked instead of assuming.”

“I should have.” You nodded. “Who...was she?” You asked quietly, feeling your face burn from embarrassment of still being wary.

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “My old neighbor. I asked her to watch the cats.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He let out a small sigh, then motioned for you to sit on the couch. You followed hesitantly, your heart still racing.

“I was planning something for us,” he admitted. “A trip. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I needed someone to take care of the cats while we were gone.”

Your breath hitched. “A trip?”

Minho nodded, his expression unreadable, but his jaw twitching. “Yeah. Because I love you, and I wanted to spend time with you. But then you called me clingy and started avoiding me, and I thought…maybe you didn’t want that.”

Guilt surged through you so strongly it made your chest ache. “Minho…”

He met your gaze, something raw in his eyes. “I know that I was the first one to...shut down or...seek space; but you were the one pulling away. I was just trying to hold on. And forget what you said...”

Tears pricked at your eyes. “I didn't mean that Minho. I know nothing can take those words back, but I truly truly didn't mean it.” you whispered.

"I don't..." Minho sighed. "I don't act...this way with others. I don't really like all the mushy stuff but with you...it's different. Its like...I have to do all that stuff because I love you so much that it physically pains me not to show you just how much you mean..."

"Min..."

"So when you said that it made me think maybe you didn't want my love. That maybe...it was a burden to you."

"It's not!" You shout, making Minho jump slightly. "It's not at all. If anything I'm the burden for making things so difficult."

"You'll never be a burden to me Y/N. You just need to tell me when things are getting too hard so I can adjust my love language during those times. So we can avoid things like this, hm?" He lifted your face to look at him, slowly rubbing his thumb over your cheek. You nodded.

"You can be such a pain when your irritated you know, that?" He teased, his eyes narrowing.

"I was scared that I showed you I don’t deserve how much you love me. And that...you...”

Minho sighed before leaning forward, cupping your cheek gently, as he crashed his lips into your to shut you up.

“You can be scared, but don’t shut me out. Let me be scared with you if you are. And for the record you have nothing to be scared for. I'm clingy remember? What makes you think I'll let you go?"

A tear slipped down your cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb. “I love you, Y/N. Even when you’re being a pain.”

A small, watery laugh left your lips. “I love you too."

He smirked slightly. “So, you ready for the trip?”

You blinked. “You still want to go?”

Minho scoffed. “Of course. I planned everything. It’d be a waste not to.”

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." He said wiggling his eyebrows. "A very special surprise."

You pouted. "But I wanna know-"

He shushed you again with his lips, pushing you back onto the couch, and Dori's napping spot much to cat's dismay.

His hand entwined with yours, for a split second he played with your ring finger.

"You'll know soon enough, jagiya." He mumbled against your lips, his hand falling from yours to wrap around you waste as he lay on top of you. "But I missed you so let me just be with you in this moment."

He pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and familiar, as he cuddled into you, and told you about everything that had happened recently; and for the first time in weeks, everything felt right again.

——————————————————————————

Changbin

You barely had time to process before you were rushing outside.

He was turned away from you completely. Your stomach dropped, and your hands instinctively reached out for him. "Changbin, wait!"

But he didn’t even try to continue walk away. Instead, his shoulders shook. His breath came out ragged, and when he turned back to you, his eyes were glossy, brimmed with unshed tears.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Bin...?"

You ran up to him and you started apologizing. 

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to steal your proposal or anything. I just wanted to apologize for snapping and calling you clingy-"

He let out a broken laugh, tears threatening to teeter over the edge, running a hand through his hair before looking at you with an expression so raw, so utterly vulnerable, that it made your chest pound. "You really think I’m upset because of that?"

Your brows furrowed. "Aren’t you? I- I took this from you. I ruined everything. I was so horrible-"

He cut you off with a shake of his head. "No, Y/N. God, no." He took in a shaking breath.

And then the first tear slipped down his cheek. Followed by the next, then the next.

Your heart clenched painfully at the sight, and you stepped closer, unsure if you should reach for him. He was crying. You had made him cry. And the thought of it made your own tears start to well in your eyes.

"Binnie, I-"

"You really don’t get it, do you?" His voice wavered. "I’m not crying because I’m upset. I’m crying because I love you so much that it makes me hurt to think about how you blamed yourself for all of this. That you thought the way to make it up to me was by planning your own proposal."

He let out another unsteady breath, wiping at his face roughly. "I don’t care about the proposal going wrong. I don’t care that you were overwhelmed or that we fought. I don't care enough about any of that to want an apology. I thought I did but being here I don't. I care that you thought for even a second that I would want you to feel this kind of guilt. I care that you thought I wouldn’t love you just as much, even after everything."

The weight of his words crashed into you all at once.

Tears slipped freely down your cheeks now, your throat tightening so much it was hard to breathe. "But I- I hurt you. I said awful things, I-"

"Yes, but seeing this-" He gestured towards your home. "I know you didn't mean it. We all say things when we're upset."

"But I do it so much-" You cried out.

"And I still love you, Y/N," he interrupted softly, stepping forward this time. "I still want to marry you. I still want every version of forever with you, no matter how messy it gets. I didn’t propose tonight because I thought it had to be perfect. I proposed tonight because I was ready. And I still am."

Your lips trembled, a sob catching in your throat as you reached for him, hands shaking when they met his chest. "Bin..."

He exhaled shakily, his hands coming up to cup your face. His thumbs brushed away your tears, his gaze searching yours as if to make sure you understood. "Don’t ever think that a bad night, a bad fight, or a bad moment could ever change the way I feel about you."

Your tears fell harder now, and a broken laugh slipped from your lips. "You’re supposed to be mad at me, and make me grovel and apologize 1000 times; not saying the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard."

He chuckled wetly, pulling you against him, his arms wrapping securely around you. " While I think that would be a sight to see I forgave you the moment everything happened. And I appreciate the apology Y/N-ie, I really do. But I could never stay mad at you. Not when I know how much you love me back."

You buried your face in his chest, clutching onto him like he was your lifeline. "I do. I love you so much, Binnie. And I’m so sorry."

He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head. "I know. I know, baby. We can move past now."

For a long moment, you just stood there, wrapped up in each other, breathing in the warmth and comfort that only he could provide. And then, in the softest whisper, he murmured against your hair:

"Marry me, Y/N?"

You pulled back slightly, blinking up at him through tear-soaked lashes. "You...You’re still asking? Even after all of this?"

His smile was small but so full of love it nearly took your breath away. "I wanted to hear you say yes."

A watery laugh bubbled out of you, and you nodded, gripping his shirt tightly. "Yes. Yes, of course, I’ll marry you."

He pulled the ring out of his jacket pocket and placed it on your finger, disregarding the box somewhere on the pavement.

And then his lips were on yours, warm and insistent, tasting of salt and relief and love. So much love.

 It was filled with every emotion under the sun, everything you could ever want and need.

And it made you pull him closer, cling to him a little more.

It wasn’t a perfect proposal.

But it was yours

Which made it absolutely perfect in the end.

��—————————————————————————

Hyunjin

Hyunjin practically sprinted from your apartment, his heart hammering against his ribs. The cold air bit at his skin, but the chill was nothing compared to the ice creeping up his spine.

Where could you have gone?

He checked the usual spots first. The small park you liked to sit at when you needed air, the café down the street where you drowned your bad moods in sweet drinks, even the bus stop in case you had the ridiculous idea of running away from your problems altogether.

But you weren’t at any of them.

Panic fully bloomed in his chest. He couldn’t lose you—not like this. His mind was already spinning in worst-case scenarios, every single possibility sharpening his anxiety into something unbearable. He pulled out his phone and called again. Straight to voicemail.

“Come on, Y/N, pick up,” he muttered, frustration and worry bleeding into his voice.

Then, a thought struck him.

He quickly searched up convenience stores near your apartment. 

You tended to like to stress snack, and if you had wandered off, there could be a good chance you wandered into a place filled with snacks.

He tried calling again; even though he was sure you wouldn't answer becuase it seems your phone was off. 

But much to his surprise there was an answer.

"Hello?"

Hyunjin didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded like an older gentleman.

"Who is this? Why do you have Y/N's phone?"

"Oh, I see. Their phone died, so I'm charging it."

The man had given Hyunjin the address of the store and he took off in that direction, his long legs eating up the distance, barely noticing the way his breath came out in sharp puffs. And then, as he rounded the last corner, he saw you.

Sitting by the window, a snack in your hand, your eyes lost in thought.

Relief hit him so hard he nearly staggered. His chest rose and fell as he tried to compose himself, to shake off the raw terror that had gripped him just moments before.

You were okay.

But God, he wasn’t.

The door chimed as he stepped inside. You looked up, startled, and your eyes went wide as they met his.

“Hyunjin-”

Before you could finish, he was in front of you, his hands cupping your face, looking at you all around his warmth enveloping you entirely. His brows were drawn together, his eyes dark and searching.

“Do you have any idea how scared I was?” he said, voice tight. “I came back and you were gone. Your phone was off. I thought-” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I thought something happened to you. Why are you even at a store this far from your home?”

Guilt curled deep in your gut. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just- I tried going after you and then my phone died, and I had taken a wrong turn and-”

Hyunjin let out a breath that was almost a laugh, but it was too shaky, too broken. He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones.

“You don’t get to disappear on me like that,” he murmured. “Not after what you said. Not after the way you made me feel.”

Your stomach twisted. “Hyunjin, I-”

“No, let me talk.” His voice was soft, but firm. “You hurt me, Y/N. You made me feel like I was too much, like the way I love you is suffocating.”

Your lips parted, a lump forming in your throat.

“But that’s just how I am,” he continued, his fingers tightening slightly against your skin. “When I care, I care with everything. I don’t know how to be any other way.” His voice cracked. “And for a second, you made me feel like that wasn’t enough. Or maybe…too much.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Hyunjin, I never meant to make you feel like that.”

He searched your face, his own emotions laid bare. “Then why did you say it?”

"I was upset. But after some thought..." You swallowed, forcing yourself to confront the truth. “I think I don't like change. And being cared for this much is new to me. So, I was irritated, and I used it as an excuse to say something I had been thinking. Because I think I'm scared,” you admitted. “Scared that if I let myself lean into it too much, I’d get used to it. That I’d get used to you being there, and then one day maybe you wouldn’t be, so I shouldn't let myself get used to it."

Hyunjin stood there blinking.

“I thought pushing you away would make it hurt less if that ever happened, And after today I realized that I was wrong. And I'm sorry.” you continued, voice shaking. “I'm sorry all I did was hurt you instead of expressing how I felt. Whether about the rough days or anxiety for the future. There are no excuses...”

A heavy silence stretched between you before he finally spoke.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly. “Not unless you tell me to. And even then, I’d probably still find a way to stay and cling to.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up in your throat.

"I mean it, Y/N. More than I've meant anything before." He sighed. "I wanted you to grovel and I was going to be all dramatic and everything but...I guess you just make me way too soft don't you?" He kissed your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to cling to you. Even if you tell me not too."

You let out a full laugh now. “You’re persistent.”

“And you’re impossible,” he murmured, brushing a tear from your cheek. “But you’re mine. Right?”

You nodded, fresh guilt and love swelling in your chest. “I am. And I know I already said sorry but I really am. I’m so, so sorry, Hyunjin. For what I said, for making you feel like you weren’t enough. You are. You always have been.”

Hyunjin studied you for a moment before his lips quirked up just slightly. “You’re lucky I’m weak for you.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” you promised. “Whatever you want.”

His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Anything?”

You hesitated. “Yes?”

A full grin broke across his face. “Then you owe me unlimited cuddles for a week.”

You let out a relieved laugh, nodding. “Deal.”

And just like that, Hyunjin pulled you into his arms, burying his face into your shoulder, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

Because he didn’t.

——————————————————————————

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy

@suckerforv @nyang3racha @ashleylly @darling-imobsessed @changbinismymuscledaddy @artist2181 @minniesverse @monbrigh @20staaa @aeri-skzver @noannah @skysole @chanssmiles @depressedarlling

[naffeclipse]

Tusks

Reader x Yeti!Sun & Moon

Commission Info

The lovely @divinit3a requested their Frostbite AU with their cryptid Arctic boys, which was an absolute delight! There's snow, there's local legends, and there's the fellas themselves! I had such a great time writing them, and I'm so glad for the chance to write Sun being so extra monstrous and Moon as soft and sweet. Enjoy!

Content Warnings: Animal death, blood, gore, and fear.

———

The evening light slants golden over the frozen tundra, the sky softening to a popsicle pink hue. Trees and jagged mountain outcroppings alike cast shadows which turn the snow blue and the rocks and bark of willows dark and thick. You cheerfully continue deeper along the expansive land, hiking in snug boots and thick layers of clothing that loudly rub in a high pitch zip with each stride you take. 

This journey is very ill advised—but that has rarely stopped you from chasing after what you wanted. Vanessa, the one who strictly told you not to leave the town set on the frozen edge of the sea at the North Pole, warned her to wait for either her or an official crew before you started chasing after myths and folklore in the region. But one night in and hearing about the local abominable snowman propelled you forward into a solo day trek into the frigid wilds just beyond town. 

Yeti. Local legend. Tall tale. “The ice devil” is too great of a story to pass up. You set out to find a hook, a real, captivating myth to jot down upon your notebooks and preserve on your voice recorder, and you are not going to disappoint yourself. 

Stories are as important as reality, as nature itself. Stories are how people keep themselves alive. You continue the tradition by writing reports for a renowned wildlife and wilderness journal. Nothing would give you more pleasure than to witness first hand the places and conditions which swirl the rumors of a creature so inexplicable lurking along the edges of the town. 

It was once thriving too. Even before the tourism died down, the town hushly boasted of the local cryptid that were said to roam in blizzards after dark. You’ve walked between the frozen houses and down the thin strip meant to behave as the mainstreet—it is struggling. 

Perhaps a new, fresh story could bring attention back to such a place. It could do good to remind the world that there are still stories here, waiting to be heard, wishing to inspire awe and fright and imagination. 

You slide between two giant boulders slick with frost and reach a fantastic overlook at the top of a crag. The town seems so small and far away. The sun is setting low, the perfect golden hour setting upon you like a caress from a loved one saying goodbye. You brush a gloved hand against your nose. It drips slightly, and you can already imagine how bright-red and cold-bitten you must look. 

It’s going to be a trek back down. You frown slightly, studying the distance. Maybe the town really is far away. You have… less than a perfect amount of time to return to your shelter for the night. You simply don’t have the gear to survive a night in the Arctic tundra without additional aid, but that’s no matter. You’re on your way back to your rental room.

Ignore the slight ringing of Vanessa’s voice in your mind, terse and firm, telling you to wait for her, you turn around to find a way to slip down the mountain. You couldn’t help but be allured by the beautiful tundra and the rising mouths of caves and caverns alike. Icicles hang thick as harpoons from the mouths of openings in the mountain and snow piles are so thick in some areas, it would bury you alive to step in them.

You’ve been careful. You’ve traveled slowly and mindfully, and stopped to jot down your notes in a notebook before pulling out the voice recorder to wander aloud about how the environment has crafted a perfect abominable snowman for the locals to chat about. 

Of course, you’re convinced there is no such thing. Stories are born for the need of understanding. One night, a long long time ago, someone saw something in the snow and it seemed larger than reality and taller than life, and then they never saw it again. The understanding of it drifted perfectly into place as a monster. One can wrap their head around a spooky thing when it fits the criteria of horror within their mind, and it becomes a way for people to warn others from wandering too far or staying out at night when the temperature drops to lethal negative digits. 

A new understanding was born. The story of the yeti thrives. 

You drop down towards a sprawling of trees. The mountain still looms tall and dark behind you, its pale face darkening with the change of the light. You almost lose sight of the sun over the sharp slopes and peaks—but you’re sure these are your own foot tracks you’re following back.

And Vanessa was so worried about you. You grin only for yourself to know.

A tempting ice cavern opens up along your side. It’s yawning mouth is towering and the inside is deep and dark. You stop a moment to gaze within, picturing a monster lunging from its depth at a poor, unsuspecting victim. Quickly, you pull out your recorder and make a few vocal notes about the textures and impressions of the cavern. Could more ice be inside, thickly burrowing underground? 

Something to return to later. Vanessa will have to explain more to you, and you’ll ask if she’ll deign to take you on a tour inside one of them. She’s so severe about anything—it can’t simply be the lack of light in half the year or the weather. No, that’s just her disposition.

Around a bend of willow trees, thick with snow clinging to its dangling branches like an umbrella beaded in white, you walk without care. Striding forward, followed the edge of several smaller caverns, still impressive but not comparable in size, your eyes fall to the ground you tread. 

The snow is disturbed. Long and lengthy strides of something small, and there are multiples of them. You slow your rush to peer closer under the deep shadow you’re caught within. Paw prints. Large, impressive animal tracks. 

Wolves.

You slowly straighten, intrigued. Did they pass through here? Perhaps they caught your sense and curiously lingered. You trek through the little patch of willows, studying the strangeness of which the snow is disturbed, markings that are too thick and long to be from wolves, but could perhaps come from them falling into the snow and rolling. Why would wolves roll around here? This couldn’t be a local resting spot for them, could it? 

The division between shadow and brilliant, bright sunlight glittering on snow is a stark threshold. You reach it, stepping from the trees’ shelter only to stop in the golden glare of a sunset. 

Further ahead is a wolf in the path. It lies upon the snow, terribly still. Your pulse pricks up along your throat as you stare. The beautiful, thick coat of the creature is ripped to shreds, stained with blood which languidly spills out around it. 

Your skull empties of rational understanding. As if compelled by morbid curiosity, you step closer, reaching its unmoving side.

Its tongue luls out of its mouth. Eyes, wet and open, stare lifelessly. The hide is decorated with severe gouges, exposing its entrails. Heat ever so delicately rises in misty wisps into the frigid air. The carcass, missing pieces, is not even cold yet.

Something was eating it. 

A crunch of snow echoes further down the path. You startle. An instinct, animalistic and wild within you, scratches at your heart. Go. Hide. 

You obey. Flinging yourself back from the clearing of the dead, eaten wolf, you hunker behind a cluster of frosted rocks. Dropping to your knees, the light barely glancing off the icy edges of the stones, you throw yourself into its shadow. 

The crunch of snow shifts into footsteps, heavy and quick. You press a glove over your mouth, afraid the smoke of your breath could somehow give your position away. 

The footsteps stop. The stillness turns your blood to slush. 

“Oh my,” a curious voice singsongs. It’s high and bouncy with a strange, radio-like static underlying its tone. “Friend? Come on out. I can share.”

The demand is too cheerful. Friend you are not. You hold your breath, terrified as you lean your head against the cold, unforgiving rock. 

“Reveal yourself before I find you,” the voice still is strong, but a strain hits its cords. 

You are doing no such thing. 

“How rude,” the voice pouts. 

The crunch of snow becomes a rapid sharpness of footsteps, and then silence.

The back of your neck prickles. You lift your head back, back, back—

A face of gold and rust stares back down at you, a crown of sharp, splayed icicles framing the creature's head, with a grin stained in blood just behind two golden, metallic tusks. Thick white fur clings to the monster’s frame.

The ice devil.

“There you are,” his voice deepens into a growl most dreadful. A hand, large and clawed, dripping blood, reaches over the rocks.

You throw yourself to your feet. Almost knocking into a willow, snow falling from the branches and catching like dozens of wayward diamonds in the sunlight, you run. 

The creature snarls and quickly strides behind you. Your heart thunders in your ears.

You almost trip over a rock and the creature tuts a sharp sound of rebuke, calling for you to stop. Breathless, fighting the tightening of your throat, you race back towards the ice caverns. A hapless thought of losing it in one of the caves crosses your mind. You step towards the fine division between shadow and sunlight upon the ground, and pump your legs with all your might.

A large hand closes on your shoulder, twisting you back to face him while throwing you to the ground. It knocks the breath from your lungs. In a split second, the creature of wild white fur and golden plates is upon you. He pins you down neatly, as if you were a small toy for his hands to enjoy shaking about. 

“Friend,” he beams, tusks decorated in red, “There’s not enough time!”

You struggle, your boots sliding against snow while you panic without air in your body. Your head spins. The yeti crouches over you, far too close for comfort. One eye is wide and pale, icy blue. The one is damaged, scratched, with a star-like prick of blue deep in its black center.

His claws squeeze your shoulder. His other palm sits on your chest, keeping you in place.

“I won’t get to play with my friend,” he pouts and snarls the next, “How naughty of you to run from me.”

The air trickles slowly back into your gaping mouth. You scramble, clutching at his arms in a vain attempt to push him off you, but you only succeed in smearing blood onto your coat.

The shadows stretch deeper. The monster tilts his head, the impressive icicle jags upon his head spinning like crystals in the air. He releases your shoulder to drag the back of a claw down your cheek, leaving you to whimper with precious little breath.

“We can play,” he decides. “You can run and I’ll hunt you down.”

You frantically mewl, trying to push out from underneath him but he cages you in his long and looming figure. He laughs, bordering on maniacal. 

“Keep struggling, little hare,” he growls, “It’ll make you taste all the better—if you don’t behave.” 

You suck in a sharp breath at the first cool brush of shadows on your face. The yeti snarls a guttural, temperamental sound. His claws sink into the front of your coat, pricking the fabric. 

“No, no, no!” His other hand flies to his face, covering it as the evening gives way to twilight, and the gold upon his particular face fades to a silver and black.

Unhanded, you push yourself out from underneath the monster before bolting straight back into the thicket of the willows. You dash madly. Your footsteps remain in the snow, calm and steady, now smeared with your backtracking as you rediscover the great opening of the ice cavern from earlier, and toss yourself inside with all your might. 

You race into the darkness. The coldness turns your breath into thick smoke before your lips. Your heart pounds while your fingers and toes grow numb. You ignore the paint of red upon your clothing, left on your cheek.

Stories are understanding. A warning. A way to survive.

The ice devil should have been a story.

The rounded walls of the ice cavern grow narrow. Panic hooks into you, sharp and cold, as you push yourself against the wall. The cold bites at your nose. Your head swims as black stains the edges of your vision—or is it that dark?

You slip down to your knees. Clutching yourself, your body shakes violently with shock and icy temperatures. This is too dangerous for you to lie low in—you won’t make it through the night.

Footsteps click into the icy entrance. You lift your head, staring at the large figure taking up the entrance with a thick, wild coat of undisguisable white. Shrinking closer to the frozen ground, you bite your bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

The figure draws near. The low light of the deepening twilight barely reaches inside. Your heart struggles in your ribcage, clawing at your sternum. You can no longer hold your breath. A faintness takes hold. 

A head snaps towards you, two sharp and icy horns upon the crown of its head, paired with two dark tusks. Something long and fluffy sways behind its head���a nightcap. The creature lumbers towards you upon lethargic steps. You yelp as it stands over you, eyes blue and piercing, but his expression is far less bloody. 

A sluggish hand reaches for you. Fear strikes so thick in your mind, you freeze without any adrenaline to protect you. The hand lifts you off your feet and pulls you against its body. You briefly struggle.

“Stop,” a voice comes, low and raspy, and exhausted, “Hold still.”

You obey, if only due to being struck dumb by the difference in the voice from only moments before. 

Long and thickly furred limbs wrap around you. A cloak, white and heavy, drapes over you until you’re snuggled against the creature’s chest, held secure in lithe arms.

Surprisingly gentle, the ice devil ensures every part of you is coated in the warmth of his attire. The fluff is wild and warm. The relief it brings is instant despite your shaking limbs, and you stare, wide eyed, up at the mysterious face of silver.

“Sun…” he mutters, shaking his head. His tusks cut through the air before he looks down at you. “It’s alright now.”

You don’t know if you believe him, but your body sags, and the blackness flanking your vision engulfs you entirely. The last fleeting sensation is a claw touching your cheek, wiping away blood.

[4vanaa]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, rafe cameron, 19

summary: y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she's moved on-though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she's forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.

cw: none | masterlist | 18 | 20 |

rafeupdates 3h

liked by rafefan, weekndlover, and 25,670 others

rafeupdates Rafe Cameron spotted out with friends tonight in the Outer Banks before his sister’s wedding! He was seen laughing and talking with the group, but fans couldn’t help but notice one mystery girl who had his attention all night. 👀 Who is she??

view all comments

carter_bby WHO is the girl in the black dress bc Rafe was looking at her like she hung the moon

rafeszn nahhh this gotta be the girl he’s always singing about… he’s back home, the lyrics always mention ‘small town’ and ‘should’ve never left’ 👀

rafecameronwifey y’all I’m sick. physically unwell.

user not me abt to deep dive through his following. we will FIND HER.

brooklyn24 lmao let me know what you find bc I need answers.

kildarefan someone in the group tagged a girl on their story but her acc is PRIVATE. this might be her 😭

obsessedoverrafe he better not be soft-launching someone right now bc I’ll actually cry.

carolinagirlxo I’m gonna hold off my jealousy until we have real proof but it’s NOT looking good for us 😭

rafeswife the way he’s staring at her in EVERY clip… like sir blink twice if ur okay

user24 um. y’all. the girl literally has a boyfriend 😭 there’s a pic in someone’s story where a guy has his arm around her.

camrafe WAIT and in another one they’re literally kissing wtf. Rafe why u staring like that 😭

basketballbaby NOOOO NOT UNREQUITED FEELINGS I CAN’T DO THIS TODAY

allthingsrafe no bc imagine being her bf and seeing rafe cameron looking at ur girl like that… I’d simply walk into the ocean.

xorafe wait. didn’t he say in that interview last year that he was in love with a girl who had a boyfriend??? and we all thought he was joking??

xoangelkiss LMFAO NOT RAFE LIVING HIS OWN LYRICS. THIS IS A FANFIC.

abelfan the way we should’ve KNOWN bc he makes music w the weeknd… of COURSE he’s gonna be messy 😭

rafeupdates2.0 hold on bc people are saying her bf isn’t even all that… let’s be so serious.

camwife imagine having rafe cameron writing songs abt u and u still picking some random dude. could never be me

user idk y’all I saw the bf and he’s actually kinda fine, like I lowkey get it 😭

user yeah he’s cuteee I’d be loyal too tbh

angelrafe her man is cute but rafe being obsessed with her is kinda eating… like the plot is juicing rn.

rafesgf watch her be an old family friend or something and we’re all losing our minds for nothing 💀

a/n: ngl i think it’s safer for this story, that i don’t write/update bc the only thing in my head is angst angst. i’m sorry it’s taken almost a month for this chapter but i’m like basically finished drafting the rest of the story so.. i originally wanted to end the story on valentine’s day but yk ill say it’ll be done by the end of the month!!

🏷️: @xoxo-ada @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @sleepiibunniiii @urbrunettebombshell @sideboobrry11 @acidfeens @marleymarleymarleymarley @hadids-world @ursogorgeous13 @louxmcl @cyberkitty1 @pogueprincesa @drewrry @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not

[allertonhoe]

Congrats on 500!! for the requests: rafe + c8 please :)

of course!!! ahhh thanks for the request, i hope you like it!!! 🥰🥰

prompt: arguing all the time about everything and nothing (somehow love starts seeping into their arguments)

content warnings: 18+ MDNI - suggestive af, original afab!reader, obx!universe

500 follower celebration!

You'd met Rafe Cameron when Sarah brought you to Tannyhill for the first time. You were new to Figure 8, and she'd come up to compliment your shoes one day when you were walking around the local mall. The two of you becoming fast friends from there.

You'd recognized him from around the area, his intense aura unshakeable. Not to mention he wasn't the worst-looking. But for some reason, in contrast to his sister, he'd decided to be the absolute bane of your existence.

"So are you another one of Sarah's strays?" He grilled, seeming to appear out of nowhere when the girl left you to yourself for a few minutes.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," he provokes smoothly. "She's always out collecting whatever scraps move into town."

"Well, clearly all the decency in the family went to her and Wheezie," you grumble, his brows raising in bewilderment at the witty rebuttal.

"You just don't know me well enough yet, darling." he asserts.

"I can't say I'm too impressed with what I've seen," you scoff.

"Well, you better get used to it if you plan on sticking around my sister," he winks arrogantly.

With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered back to wherever he came from, leaving you to wallow in whatever he'd just stirred up. He gave you an inexplicable feeling, one that made you nervous for a reason you couldn't quite place yet. And while that might've been the first time he went out of his way to bug you, it would be nowhere near the last.

* * * * *

"Hey, darling," Rafe greeted brightly as he slipped through the door.

You were spending the night at the Cameron's house, but Sarah's ensuite was currently undergoing renovations, leaving you to use the shared bathroom down the hall. Something you hadn't found to be a huge deal until you were plagued with Rafe's presence once again.

Being in the midst of scrubbing your mouth, you just rolled your eyes and ignored his strange conduct. Letting out a squeak when he passed behind you to make his way to the other side of the cramped room, pinching your hip in the process. And while you shot him a dirty look at the gesture, he was more than pleased with himself. Grabbing his own brush and launching into the mundane routine without further dispute. 

You couldn't place the energy between you, a heavy silence filling the space instead of the usual vitriol you saved for each other. You were probably just getting a bit delirious because you were tired, trying not to fixate over the way his hair looked kinda cute when it was messy at the end of the day or how his sweats hung a bit too low.

Returning to the chore, you spat the minty toothpaste into the sink before bringing the brush back to your mouth. Not expecting him to follow suit, his signature grin settled on his features. His eyes meeting yours in the reflection, inadvertently sending shockwaves through your body.

It wasn't too often that you found yourself alone with Rafe, and when you did, it was unsettling to say the least. Like all the animosity you'd grown towards him shifted into another feeling. One that you couldn't really explain, or maybe you just didn't want to.

The tension between you was palpable. Holding each other's steady gaze through the mirror, like the simple task of brushing your teeth was now some petty competition. Your stomach twisting the longer you spent in there with him, without any disruptions.

You repeated your previous action, Rafe once again following your lead and doing the same. Not realizing that every time he did mimic you, he'd scooch a little closer to you until you were basically hip-to-hip, his warmth radiating onto you due to his proximity.

Not interested in putting up with his endless badgering anymore, you finally cleaned out your mouth properly. Hearing him snicker quietly as you made your exit, flipping him off as he muttered a faint, 'sweet dreams, darling,' as you rushed back to Sarah's room. Far from his constant teasing.

* * * * *

With another humid summer day in Figure 8, Sarah had called you over to drink and lounge by her pool. The lazy pastime being the perfect opportunity to soak in the beautiful weather without exuding too much energy. However, she made sure to omit that Rafe had invited Topper and Kelce.

It started off cordially enough, the two groups keeping their distance—you and Sarah off to the side, basking in the hot sun while the boys occupied the pool. But it was like clockwork. Sarah retreated back into the house to refill your cups, only for you to be smacked by a petite, wet basketball from the other direction only moments later.

"Heads up!" Rafe proclaims a little too late, him and the boys snickering at the childish antics.

"Nice, Rafe. Thanks." You snap, throwing it back towards them but missing entirely. The plastic skimming across the surface.

You shut your eyes to recreate some sense of tranquility, hearing a bit of movement from the pool before a large shadow covered you. Feeling water gently drip onto your exposed skin, you were brought back to reality to see that Rafe was hovering over you.

"Do you mind?" you sass, your sunglasses only doing so much to obscure your glare.

"Just admiring the view," he flirts, not moving from his place.

"You're such a pig. It's truly a mystery to me why girls drool over you as much as they do," you scold in disgust.

"No, it's not. You've been checking me out all day too," he counters boldly, your face going red at his presumptuous (but accurate) callout. "Don't need to get all shy about it."

"Go away." You reiterate, your patience already wearing thin.

"Fine," he concedes without any argument.

That's when he lifted you bridal-style, wasting no time turning back to the pool and jumping into the deep end with you in his arms. Gripping your waist as you swam back to the surface, as if to make sure you didn't drown.

You gasped for air as you popped out of the water, not having anticipated his sudden ambush. You pushed him off you hastily, brushing your wet hair out of your face as you scowled at him. The sound of Topper and Kelce's laughter only riling you up further.

"You're such a douchebag!" You fumed, shoving him further away, not that it did much.

"Lighten up," he remarks, his tone sounding less mocking than usual. "Looked like you were getting all hot and bothered over there."

Not thinking it through too much, you splashed him back. The older boy giving you an amused look, clearly not as affected by your retaliation as you'd been to his. You weren't sure what pissed you off more—how easily he could get on your nerves or how unapologetically smug he was about it.

"Wow, real mature." he teases.

"Says you." you declare, only for him to splash you back. "Why don't you go entertain your friends? Leave me alone for once,"

"This is more fun," he dismisses, sending another small wave towards you.

"Rafe! Stop it!" You protest again, mirroring his attack.

He floated closer to you, taking your wrists and holding them midair to halt your efforts. Looming over you easily with his bulky stature, his ocean blue eyes locking you in place as they met yours in challenge. Your surroundings seemed to fade as he held you. As if there wasn't anyone else around, let alone a few feet away.

Everything stood still for a moment, this unspoken connection returning as you held his gaze. You figured your eyes were playing tricks on you when you saw his flick downwards. You weren't in the most innocent of positions, you were only wearing a bikini, and it's not exactly like he was the definition of a gentleman.

And just as easily as when he snuck up on you, his hands were on your shoulders and dunking you back underwater. Catching you off-guard again and completely ruining whatever had temporarily risen between the two of you. Reminding you why you couldn't stand him to begin with.

* * * * *

With the absurd size of the property and all its impressive features, Tannyhill was the perfect party spot. And with Ward and Rose out of town every other week for business trips, the older Cameron siblings made sure to take full advantage of that whenever possible. Which included tonight.

Rafe found you a few hours into the gathering, not making his feelings a secret as he stormed over to you with an unimpressed look. You didn't react, knowing he was just seeking a fight. Leaning against the counter in their kitchen and chatting with your girlfriends, sipping a red solo cup of your own concoction.

"Turn this shitty music off," he commands, making you smirk triumphantly.

"What are you talking about?" you feign, exaggerating a pout.

"I know you took my phone off the Bluetooth and connected it to yours. I wouldn't listen to this girly crap." He seethes.

"I think it's a better fit," you shrug, taking a sip of your drink. "Has anyone even complained?"

"Yeah. I am," he indicates with exasperation. "You don't even live here."

"Sarah said it was fine. Nobody wanted to listen to your shitty playlist anyway. Sorry to break it to you." you retort, giggling as his temper flared.

He didn't bicker with you any further, instead grabbing your arm and dragging you through the busy halls. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten frustrated with you over something so trivial, but you couldn't say he usually let it get to him this much. Too tipsy to give a shit about his overly hostile behavior or how he was leading you into his father's empty office, ensuring to lock the door behind him.

"You're the biggest pain in my ass, you know that?" he growls.

"Little old me?" You taunt, relishing how you had the upper hand. "Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Rafe."

"Ever since Sarah brought you over here, all you've been is a fucking brat," he accuses bitterly.

"Yeah, because you're such a gem," you contend. "Fine. If you hate it that much, I'll let you control the music downstairs. Damn..."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he huffs, only deepening your confusion. "This has nothing to do with the damn music."

"Then what's your fucking problem? You're really being a buzzkill-"

He cut off your rambling, throwing you off-balance as he kissed you fiercely. And as irritated as he might've been, it was still tender and deliberate. Taking your cheeks in his hands like he was savoring it in case it was the only time he'd get to do it.

He pulled back after a few seconds and rested his forehead against yours, neither of you saying anything right away as you caught your breath. His eyes widening as if he realized what he'd just done, opening his mouth to presumably start apologizing, but you stopped him before he could.

Your hands wrapped around his neck as you brought your lips back to his, bringing him as close as you possibly could. Rafe grasping your hips and pinning you against the wall, his kisses becoming more hungry and urgent once he knew you wanted this just as much as he did. Sinking his teeth into your bottom lip like he was staking his claim, tugging the flesh gently as he receded back again.

"I can't fucking stand you," you whisper, your contradiction only making him smirk wider.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling." he chuckles, the two of you spending the remainder of the night hiding from the crowd and reacquainting yourselves.

[yourlovelywriter]

Bewitched by you? (Pt 4)

Welp guys… this is my last one.. I was brutally assaulted by an anon.. ✋

I’m just kidding I’ll keep going despite my heart being shattered.

—————————————————

I woke to the scent of coffee and the quiet shuffle of movement.

For a few seconds, I wasn’t sure where I was. The hotel room was still cloaked in early morning dimness, the golden light of sunrise spilling through the half-drawn curtains. The bed beneath me was softer than mine at home, the sheets tangled around my legs. Then, the memory of yesterday settled into place—the long drive, the late-night check-in, the single bed.

And Lilia.

She stood by the window, coffee cup in hand, gazing out at the street below. Loose waves of dark hair tumbled over her shoulder, the soft light tracing the delicate lines of her face. She looked at ease here—so much so that I had the ridiculous thought that maybe this town belonged to her, that maybe every place she walked simply bent itself around her presence.

I stretched, my muscles protesting the early morning. “What time is it?”

Lilia turned, her gaze sweeping over me like she had already been waiting for me to wake up. “Later than you’d think.”

I groaned, rubbing my face. “You could’ve woken me.”

She smirked, sipping her coffee. “I could have.”

I blinked sleepily at her, trying to shake the drowsiness from my limbs. “So… do we have time to grab something to eat before the reading?”

A pause.

Then, as effortlessly as if she had expected the question, Lilia said, “My client wants to wait until tonight.”

I frowned, sitting up. “I thought you said she wanted us to come out here as soon as possible?”

“She did.” Lilia set her cup down and grabbed her coat from the chair. “But she changed her mind. Said it’s better to do the reading after dark.”

I hesitated. “Is that a thing?”

She shot me a knowing look. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Baby.”

I wanted to press further, but the way she spoke—smooth, unbothered, as if nothing about this was unusual—made me pause. It wasn’t like I had any real reason to doubt her. If Lilia said the woman wanted to wait, then that was the plan.

“Fine,” I muttered, rubbing my face. “What do we do until then?”

Lilia tossed me a set of keys. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

The town was quiet, the kind of place where time seemed to stretch longer than it should. Cobblestone streets wound through clusters of brick buildings, their windows decorated with flower boxes and wrought-iron lanterns. Every so often, we passed a café with tiny round tables set outside, steam rising from cups as the morning crowd sipped their coffee in silence.

Lilia moved through it all with effortless familiarity, leading me down winding streets and tucked-away alleys.

“This place is beautiful,” I admitted as we passed an old bookshop with a deep green awning.

Lilia hummed in agreement. “It has its charm.”

There was something strange about the way she said it, like she had known this place long before today.

“How do you know your client?” I asked, glancing over at her.

Lilia barely hesitated. “A referral.”

“From someone in town?”

“Something like that.”

I frowned slightly at her vague answer but let it go. Lilia was always like this—only giving away what she wanted to, never more.

We walked for a while longer before she led me to a bridge overlooking the river. The water shimmered under the sunlight, its surface broken only by the occasional ripple of a passing bird. Along the railing, dozens of colorful ribbons were tied, fluttering gently in the breeze.

I ran my fingers over one. “What are these?”

“A tradition.” Lilia leaned against the railing, watching me with quiet amusement. “People write wishes on them. Tie them to the bridge, let the river decide if they come true.”

I glanced over at her. “Do you believe in that?”

She smirked. “I believe in many things.”

The day slipped by in a haze of quiet moments.

Lilia took me to a café tucked into a hidden courtyard, where we sat outside, drinking coffee as she pointed out the small details of the town—a weathered statue in the square that no one really knew the origin of, a door painted deep blue that supposedly never faded no matter how many years passed.

At one point, we found ourselves in a small garden, tucked away behind a crumbling stone wall. The scent of lavender and jasmine clung to the air, and the sun filtered through the trees in golden patches.

I watched as Lilia ran her fingers lightly over a row of rosemary plants, a small, thoughtful smile playing at her lips. It was strange, seeing her like this—unhurried. There was always something untouchable about her back at the shop, but here, she seemed more present. Like this was where she had meant to be all along.

“You like it here,” I murmured, half a statement, half a question.

Lilia’s fingers stilled on the rosemary for only a second before she turned to me. “I do.”

Something about the way she said it made me feel like there was more to her answer. Maybe I should ask?

But before I could, she stepped closer, brushing a stray leaf from my sleeve. “You’re enjoying yourself,” she noted.

I scoffed. “You sound surprised.”

She tilted her head. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to slow down long enough to appreciate it.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirked, stepping back. “Only that you have a habit of thinking your way through things instead of feeling them.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the truth of it settled too quickly in my chest.

Before I could come up with a retort, Lilia glanced up at the sky. The sun had begun to dip lower, the shadows stretching longer across the cobblestones.

“We should head back soon,” she said. “The reading’s in a few hours.”

Right. The reading.

Somehow, I’d almost forgotten why we were here.

I exhaled, shaking my head as I followed her back toward the main square.

Something about this town felt different now—less like a simple stop on a trip and more like a place meant to be remembered.

And something about Lilia felt different too.

———————————————————————

[luckypunklemonade]

| "I'm Going Nowhere You Won't Find Me."

[Smut MDNI 18+; Established relationship; fem!reader; 3k words] BackwardsCap! Stiles Stilinski didn't mean to worry you. Don't worry, he'll make amends.

This work belongs to me, luckypunklemonade (Minte_Condition on AO3). I do not give anyone permission to distribute or share my work without consent.

“You could’ve gotten shot?!”

You slapped the table, standing up as Scott spouts excuses. All “I didn’t even want to go in!” and Stiles counters with “Scott found the key! And he wasn’t gonna shoot me!”

You shake your head, trying not to overreact and deciding between if it’s okay now that they’re here and safe or if you should freak out. “Are you kidding?”

Stiles followed your unsure train of thought, “Look, we talked to him, and we left. He was never really gonna shoot us.”

You brushed him off and uncomfortably kept your eyes out the window into the dark. Imagining a gun pointed at your boyfriend and his best friend was already scary, given how often it could happen. He didn’t seem to understand your anxieties being on the outside. He thought the fact that it was over would calm you down. You did, too. 

Your big issue was that he didn’t tell you he was about to enter a dangerous situation. You knew what you signed up for in being his girlfriend, but that was one of your requests. That he at least told you so you weren’t left with nothing. He promised you would never be in the dark if he could help it. It was a mutual agreement that you could help, so he’d trust you, and you’d trust him You weren’t mad, but you couldn’t articulate just how you felt. You figured you’d be able to after a night's rest and then some.

“You guys need to get home. It’s late, and your parents are probably worried and clueless.”

Scott nodded and grabbed his coat, but Stiles stood firm in front of you.

“C’mon, can we talk?”

He stepped up to you, hands sliding around your waist and asking for your attention.

You ignored the ploy, “Did you drive Scott here?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, get him home. It’s too late to be out in this town. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he noted the frantic tone in your voice, emphasized by how much you knew about the supernatural in this town from him. Stiles grabbed his keys and walked with Scott outside. “Love you, honey.”

“Love you.”

And then he came back. You were lying in bed, taking deep breaths and winding down when he knocked. You shot up, sifting through what you know about the supernatural for something that could mimic his knock. You padded over the cold floor to the door and looked through the window at the top. It was Stiles. Of course, it was Stiles.

You opened the door, and Stiles stepped inside without hesitation. As you were closing and locking the door, he pulled you by the waist into him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Don’t be mad at me.”

“Stiles, I’m not mad. I just- I wish I weren’t left so clueless. I hate looking stupid, and then you come to me with something like this. I would feel much better if I had known you were going into that, I could’ve been prepared.”

Stiles smoothed your hair behind your ears, “I know it was stupid, and you should not have to suffer because of it.”

“I’m not saying you can’t go out and do whatever you want like you did before. I won’t ever want to change that. I don’t want to be the overbearing girlfriend who mothers you. I’m just– What if you go out there and get shot or hurt or worse, and I’m not there to help? I don’t want to be clueless and helpless when it comes to you. You know I’ll always be here for anything, and I can try to chill out, but-“

“Listen, you don’t need to do anything. I didn’t text you. That’s my fault. I agreed to let you know if I had planned anything stupid and failed. I wish you wouldn’t have to worry, but I’d do the same thing if it were reversed. I’m glad I have you on my side, okay? I’ll do better, I’m sorry.”

You huffed, not satisfied with him taking the full weight of shame that comes with an apology. “I just care about you. And Scott. I guess.”

He smiled and kissed your cheek, “Thank you.”

Another kiss, followed by several more peppered around your face, punctuated with, “Thank you, thank you, thank you-“

You cracked a smile and limply attempted to push him away. He shook his head, languidly walking you back from the front door into the kitchen. His lips followed in pace, listlessly pressed against your temple. 

“I should’a known better. Should’a known you wouldn’t be satisfied with that.” He mumbled as he guided your hips to the counter. “Not my girl.”

“Well, it’s your girl’s bedtime.”

Stiles kissed behind your ear, just where he could reach, while he spoke in your ear. His voice was the same tone he used when he spoke up an innocent excuse, just a few octaves lower and so, so close. “Is it?”

“Yes, and you know how I get without sleep.”

You could practically hear him bare his teeth in a grin, his fingers tracing just beneath the hemline of your shirt, “How do you get?”

You laughed and pulled his hands away from your stomach, holding them in yours. He looked down at you, barely hiding how his eyes flicked to your lips every few seconds before ducking his head down into your neck. He subconsciously leaned into you, pressing your lower back into the counter. You felt him inhale deeply, his lips pressed into a spot just under where you applied your perfume. He went after the scent, however faded it was, and you felt him push his face deeper. His nose, his broad smile, his eyelashes all against your neck. He licked that spot on your throat before kissing it gratefully. His head dipped with each movement of his jaw, sucking at the point where he could feel your pulse on his lips. His fingers aimlessly tangled with yours on the counter behind you.

You had to give it to him. He could be reckless. Sometimes, it was hard to be his girlfriend, but he always made it up to you. He’d realized how little he’d been getting a hold of you and spend the next few days and nights with you, making sure you could see how much he loved you. He was erratic, but he wasn’t inconsistent with that part. He wasn’t on and off checking texts or stopping by; he was always committed to that, and it never stopped, but there were exceptions. Of course, you knew what you signed up for. He was worth it, you trusted him, and he was really good at making it up to you.

You brought your hand to the back of his neck, knocking his baseball cap sideways on his head. “M’sorry.”

Stiles bent slightly, hooking his hands on the backs of your thighs and lifting you up to sit on the counter. His smile hooked at the side, making every look of insane emotion sort of playful. He reached up, taking the hat off when you stopped him, “Keep it on.”

“Yeah?” His smirk grew more confident, a look you didn’t often see on the genuine side.

“Mhm. It’s hot.”

Stiles’s smile broke into a grin, although he was sort of distracted by the hickeys he’d left on your neck. Repeating what you say as fact, he let his eyes wander, “It’s hot.”

Your laugh pulled him back in, along with you grabbing a fistful of his flannel, “Very hot, sweetheart. Can you please fuck me now?”

It took him a second to think of a response, of course, after every thought he had was replaced with your words. “I can definitely do that.”

You helped him take his shirt off, repositioning the hat backward on his head after his shirt hit the floor. He smiled as you kissed his cheek and hooked your thumbs under his jeans, Mumbling against your lips as they traveled across his face and down to his neck, touching down every so often. Mumbling about how he’d wear whatever you told him if you liked it. Stopping you from doing any heavy lifting, he gently withdrew your hands from his waistband and led you to crawl into your bed. Instructing you to just sit there and look pretty, he slowly stepped out of his jeans and kneeled on the bed to help you with your shirt. At the pace he had going, by the time he had his eyes glued to your chest, you were already pushing your shorts down. When he saw your impatience, he chuckled and watched you struggle to maneuver them off underneath him. You huffed and gave up, moving your arms out of the way. 

“Atta girl.”

Your interest in his new look made him cocky. The attitude that came with it was no doubt attractive. You found yourself searching for more openings for him to use his confidence and for you to encourage it. You started by humming at the praise, watching him drop your shorts off the side of the bed. At the same time Stiles leaned down to kiss you, your hands flattened against his lower stomach, against his happy trail. You both let out respective sounds of need, and Stiles’s hips lowered between your legs. With the feeling of his dick through the thin material of his boxers came your hips bucking softly. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes slowly, huffing out what was going to be a grunt. “Shit, honey. You make it so easy, don’t you?”

You hummed in response, letting him press himself into you and tell you fondly exactly what a guy like him should do to keep a girl like you happy. “I didn’t just know what I should just do with you, y’know. I thought about it a lot.” Stiles’s mouth turned up when he saw you weren’t really focused on his words. He leaned in, “Like a lot.”

“Mhm, just—“

“Alright, I know. You like it when I talk to you, though, right?”

“Yeah, honey. I like it.” You smiled up at him, the gears turning in his head. Stiles slowly dipped his head to your chest, sucking another mark into where the skin got plush. His eyes tracked yours, doing as much as he could while keeping your eyes on him. You’d been so frustrated lately, not just with Stiles. School issues, problems at work. The stress was irritating, but you couldn’t imagine what Stiles was going through. That understanding was a bare minimum in your mind, but for Stiles, you were the most considerate person in the world. He didn’t want to make you feel like he was just using you because you were available. So, he made sure to check every box he could for you. 

“Fuckin’ love you.” He bit the breath coming out into his lip, and his eyelashes fluttered. He was doing everything to keep his eyes open and watch you. You mumbled it back, eyes squeezed shut as he thrust steadily, but he leaned his way into kissing your temple. “What was that? I’m sorry, honey, I can’t hear you.”

You cracked a smile; that’s all he wanted, but you ventured to use your hand buried in his hair to push his head back down so that his ear was by your lips. You held down a moan, replacing it with, “I love you, too.”

It came out with the same needy tone, though, and he found your mouth to kiss his smile onto yours. While he took a second to hold himself up and take a deep breath, your cheek rested against his wrist. When he felt you gently take his wrist between your teeth jokingly, he looked down and chuckled. “I deserve that. I’ll be a better boyfriend, promise.”

“Honey—“ You began, not wanting him to wallow in self-created guilt.

“I know, but still. Just let me…” Stiles’s smile opened as he moved his hips forward, hand molded around your thigh. He pushed himself deeper into you, eyes erratically trying to find something to focus on. Your face, your chest, your hands, down to where you took his dick so well, his eyes got overwhelmed. But he wasn’t going to close them. He’s not an idiot. He couldn’t figure out which would make him cum first. Closing his eyes and imagining you doing the thousand other things you had talked about, or keeping them open and watching you try to smile up at him through the haze, also struggling to keep your eyes up. It didn’t help that you tend to whine for him, showcasing how blank your mind really was. His thumb was less circling your clit than just trying to savor how messy he’d gotten you. He fed into his curiosity, which he would’ve done regardless of how good it made you feel, but especially because you arched your back off of the bed and pushed your hips up, meeting his thrusts, letting him bury himself deeper. 

He encouraged you, feeling the need start to deepen, pushing him harder. He was driven, you’d told him, thank god he didn’t gamble. Anything verbal was hopeless. He just mumbled emphatically at each movement. He opened his mouth, a clue he was almost there. He just needed a little more. Just having him like that made you clench yourself around him, moaning when he almost lost his hold of himself above you. 

“You gotta…” He almost ’woofed’ out his breath. “Fuck, honey, y’take it so good.”

His voice cracked on ‘honey,’ and you could see it sort of shook his confidence. He’d never really said anything like that with you. He was the first in the relationship to be vocal about most things. He said he loved you first, despite all the inner turmoil, even if it was sort of an accident. It was your encouragement that made him say it, your reaction to his confident demeanor. You saw an opening to make him feel good about himself; you took it. His eyes closed, gears turning and undoubtedly overthinking what he just said, but you said his name, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you.

With a sort of assured grin, you nodded at him, “Keep going. Wanna hear how well I take it.” 

He mirrored your smile, getting shy about it, but his next thrust had him to the hilt and holding it there. You yelped a little at the feeling of him holding you, of him driven into you and bracing you while you squirmed. You moaned, and he twitched, hearing it sound like he’d knocked the wind from you. “Look at you. Fuck, you’re doing so good. Just like that for me.”

Mewling his name, extremities limp, you let him see exactly how much you liked seeing him try new things. He liked the way you tightened around his dick when he pushed himself inside little by little until you started to reach for his arm, and he’d stop there. You strained a little, taking deep breaths, the muscles in your stomach contracting and squeezing your cunt around him. You came around him, cursing and fawning. Stiles let out a groan that turned into useless and incomprehensible praise. His hips slowly retracted, slowly met yours again, speeding up until he found the release he was chasing. He struggled to keep the pace, though. He’d revert back to his other method, get restless, and try to keep up with his needs. 

When Stiles came, his chest was pressed down against yours. All he had to do was turn his head, and he was kissing your neck again, breathing harshly. He built up the strength to roll over beside you and rest his head on your shoulder. He looked up at you with a little exhaustion when you sat up and brushed your fingers through his hair, the baseball cap forgotten for the time being. His fatigue was clear in his voice when he spoke, and he let his head roll off of your shoulder. “I’ll be better.”

You tilted your head, about to comment how what he just did was pretty damn good, but more than grateful he could recognize how stressed his being in danger made you. You leaned down to kiss his nose, laughing when he tried to croon his neck so that you met his lips. You reached over the side of the bed, your fingers finding the soft material of Stiles’s shirt and pulling it over your head. You managed to find his boxers as well, frowning when a hand took them from you. Stiles put them back on, still lying down and tired. You moved to sit on your heels next to him on the bed, your hand softly tracing shapes into his chest. Stiles tried really hard to keep his eyes open, but you ran your hand over his torso and up through his hair in a way you knew would put him out. He tried to keep talking, but every “mhmph” felt like a monumental effort from his entire body. He ended up letting you trace the veins on his arm while he listened to you, being soothed to silence and held just over the edge of sleep by your voice and your hands. When you finally lay down next to him, Stiles had fallen asleep. He liked waking up to find you had slid yourself into his arms after making him so pliable. Of course, you got a notification and had to check it before you went to sleep for the night, and, of course, it was Scott. He was asking why Stiles hadn’t been responding to his calls or texts and that he had a few ideas they could look over with Derek. You messaged him back that he’d been busy. That you both had been busy with heavy implications in the message. You sent a picture of Stiles fast asleep to help explain how you had put him to bed. Scott’s plain reply of “oh” was enough closure for you to put the phone down for the night. 

[girlactionfigure]

There've been a few days that have stuck out over the last 16 months of this never-ending day we call October 7. Yesterday was one of them, and possibly the worst, other than when Hersh, Edan, Carmel, Or, Almog and Alex were executed.

We got visual confirmation of what we already knew was the case, except we’d been thrown a curve ball with the release of the females. We were worried most about them, and rightfully so, but it’s clear from the way the men are returning that they are the ones being tortured and abused the most.

One of the hostages who came back yesterday said he was chained without the ability to move the entire time he was there. When they came to release him, he had to learn to walk again.

They hung them by their legs, gagged them until they couldn’t breathe and burned them (that we already know they like to do to people).

We already saw that they go days without any food, now confirmed, along with the fact that they fattened them up for the last two weeks – what we saw yesterday was an improvement.

For Israelis these images and facts hit home as if they’re talking about someone you know personally because we feel like we know all the hostages personally. Their families have been everywhere for the past 492 days. Morning, noon and night the news is filled with their interviews while pics of their loved ones play on a loop non-stop.

Everywhere you go you see hostage posters, yellow ribbons, dog tags, graffiti, stickers, art installations, town squares with empty chairs – anything and everything to remind us that our people are stuck in the most hellish place on earth they call Gaza.

If the return of the females brought feelings of joy and relief, the pictures we saw yesterday brought a new mixture of joy and pure rage. The same joy we saw with the females being released. The same rage that has been there from the moment we saw Hamas driving around on white pickups in Sderot, only more bitter, more aged and more determined than ever.

We told you at the beginning of this war that we’re going to reshape the Middle East – Lebanon, Syria and Iran are not the same countries they were before.

But the change isn’t over. Gaza isn’t over. We are now laser-focused on getting our hostages back before it’s too late, but the day is coming when the bill for their suffering will be paid – with interest. And whatever Hamas and its patrons have already paid so far will not even begin to cover the half of it.

Yoni Leviatan

[amuseintime]

A Stage of Healing

The Play is Over but the Script Remains/Scriptfrin Saga

For anyone who doesn't know, "Scriptfrin" is a Siffrin who sometimes goes semi-verbal after the loops, (mostly) only able to repeat the "script" from his time in there. I have a bit of it up here, but most of it is in this series on AO3 (though for the general concept, you can just read "Line, Please.")

Months after the loops, Siffrin and their family are walking around a town and Bonnie happens to notice samosas in the window… the thing that they had basically every blinding night in the loops. Siffrin is clearly bothered, but not in the way you'd expect. All this leads to a long talk, a one man performance, and a lot of laughs. Humor and Hurt/Comfort (heavier on the comfort).

Crossposted here on AO3.

(And always, if you like what I do, reblog, leave a comment, or maybe buy me a Kofi?)

“Oh oh oh! Guys! Look, this place has samosas!” Bonnie said, tugging them through the streets of Bagon. Even amongst Vaugaurde, the area was known for its cooking. The smells of food filled the streets, enough to make even the pickiest child consider trying something new, and the outdoor market was in full swing now that it was warming up again!

It was that perfect time of year where spring made it warm enough to travel, but still cold enough to enjoy some nice, hot food (and oh Change, being medicated again made her hungry!), or at least Mirabelle thought so! It was still too cold for Bonnie and Odile, and Siffrin kept pretty warm with his cloak, but she and Isabeau seemed to like it! 

And speaking of Siffrin, he was staring at where Bonnie had seen samosas on the menu. While they were all getting better at reading Siffrin, sometimes it was still a little difficult. This was one of those times. His head was tilted, an odd look in his eye. Not necessarily upset, but not exactly happy either. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but only a breath came out.

It wasn’t just her that noticed. Isabeau put a gentle hand on their shoulder, not minding that Siffrin jumped before settling into the contact. “You alright, Sif?” 

“Huh?” Siffrin blinked owlishly. “Ah, sorry. Was just remembering something.”

Odile’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Remembering what?”

“Remembering loop stuff…

Loop stuff? From samosas?

Bonnie jolted. “OH RIGHT!!! Crab, sorry Frin! I forgot that’s why I stopped making Samosas! ‘Cause you had ‘em every day in forever school.” 

Oh that’s right! Mirabelle had forgotten that Bonnie made samosas that day, but makes sense Siffrin wouldn’t have…

Bonnie took Siffrin’s hand to start tugging him away. “We can go somewhere else-“

“No.” He said it a bit too seriously, which he must’ve noticed as he smiled and mussed up Bonnie’s hair. “I can’t deny my Bonbon TWO of their three favorite foods!” He looked back to the shop. “Besides, I’m pretty sure they sell more than JUST Samosas. Though they might not be as… as…” They scrunched up their eye, glaring at the sign for a moment. Then their eye widened and they puffed themselves up as they said, “DE~LI~CIOUS as yours would be.”

“Why’d you say it weird?” Bonnie asked.

“I was trying to sound like Isa? It’s, uh… been a while. Since I heard that.” He trailed off again, staring into space…

Odile went over to the door and said, “Would you like to have this talk on a chair with some hot food, or would you rather keep staring through the window like an incompetent stalker?”

“Madame!” Mirabelle squealed. You can’t just?! Say that?!

But say it she did, and everyone else was laughing, even as Siffrin also tried to sink into his cloak like a turtle. 

“Yeah yeah, we should go in. But, um… I need time. To get thoughts together first? And not do this in public?”

“Reasonable enough. Now get in, I’m cold.”

They all filed inside. Only Bonnie ended up ordering the samosas, but none of them entirely missed the way that Siffrin eyed them.

————

They were all back at the nearest inn… which was fairly packed, given that spring was here. Mirabelle wasn’t the least bit surprised. After all, Spring was quite important in the Change religion! A time for new growth, a fresh start, and a reminder that while Change was destruction, it was creation too! A lot of people celebrated by picking up new hobbies, clearing out some space for those hobbies and just tidying in general (Spring Cleaning!), travel, and bonding ceremonies. 

All of this to say, there was only one room available… but Madame Odile was pretty insistent on NOT having only one bed, and somehow they ended up with three. Mirabelle made sure to slip extra tips to the poor staff, that was mortifying! Though the space was nice…

“I call Mira!” Bonnie said, grabbing her hand. She could only yelp in shock as they were both catapulted to the nearest bed, making it thunk against the wall. 

“Can I call Sif?” Isabeau said, chuckling at the not-actually-a-question. Even in the days before they saved Vaugaurde, it was rarer that they didn’t sleep together. 

Siffrin stuck his tongue out and, “Nah. Isa…” they trailed, took a quick breath in, and smirked, “Isa has to sleep on the floor.” They looked over to Odile for a moment, then jumped a few inches when Bonnie laughed instead.

“FINALLY! No more being gross!” Bonnie cheered.

“I was just joking,” Siffrin said.

“BOOOOOO!”

“Yaaaaaay!” Isabeau said, even clapping his hands and looking all sparkle-eyed at Siffrin (how had she missed that they liked each other?!) 

“Heh! Heh…” Siffrin trailed off again.

Oh Change. “Hey, Siffrin? Are you okay?” Mirabelle walked over and… wait, crab, what does she do with her hands now? Um… “Pat Pat!” Head pats, sure! Wait… Oh Change, he actually leaned in that’s??? So??? Cute?!?!

Siffrin smiled, eye shutting, and let out a sigh. “I’m alright, just…” He shuffled his feet, looking down, then up again, staring at the ceiling.

“Is this related to earlier in any way?” Odile asked.

Siffrin looked aside. “… maaaaaybe…” 

“We aren’t doing anything too close to the loops, are we?” Isabeau said. “I’m willing to actually sleep on the floor if-“

“NO! I mean, kinda, but also no? You don’t have to sleep on the floor, Isa. And it’s, um… weird.”

“Yeah, well, you’re weird! And we like you that way,” Bonnie huffed. “So out with it!” They scampered over to the door and held their arms out. “No escape!”

Siffrin blinked dumbly. Once. Twice. “Snrk-“ He plopped down on bed and started laughing. “Oh come on! I’m not that bad at talking…” he looked around the room and added, “…anymore!” 

Odile nodded, “I will concede, you’ve gotten better. But Boniface, stay there.”

“Sorry ‘Za! I’m the Defender now! Ehehe.”

“Oh nooooo!” Isabeau said, dramatically swooning onto the ground in exaggerated defeat. Everyone laughed. Some a little, some a lot, but they all laughed, even Isabeau!

Change, she loved these people.

“So then… Siffrin…” Mirabelle stepped closer with the utmost seriousness. Siffrin trembled before her! “You will…” Pause for dramatic effect, hand on her currently missing sword (she was in pajamas after all)… “Talk about your feelings!!!”

“NOOOOOOO!” Siffrin moaned, collapsing onto the bed and snickering. Though he sighed and rolled to look at all of them. “… but okay. Just… promise you won’t find it weird or wrong?”

“Of course, young one.”

“Sif, we aren’t going to judge you!”

“Never! Never ever!”

“I mean, you are weird, Stupidfrin, but tell! Us!” 

Siffrin squeaked and rolled into a ball like a little hedgehog.

Mirabelle couldn’t help but giggle, “Oh no! We came on too strong!” She sat down in bed next to him.

“Scared like the stray animal he is,” Odile tutted.

Maybe it was a little mean to poke this much fun when he was having problems… but it seemed to relax him, actually? She could say from experience that treating it too seriously was anxiety inducing itself!!! A cornered animal bites! 

Siffrin pushed himself up, shuffling close enough that their knees and elbows bumped together, but not much else. “Thanks guys.” In… out. “I dunno how you guys are so sweet when I’m so weird…”

“Like Boniface said, we already know that. It’s going to take more than a few new quirks to scare us off.” 

Blushing, Siffrin tried to bury into their collar, but he was in night clothes. No cloak! So cute! Everyone was nice enough not to mention it.

They continued, “It’s just…” He looked around as though looking for a distraction, but no one was interrupting. “With the samosas, it, uh… Took me a moment. To remember. What you guys said.”

Odile raised an eyebrow. “And that’s… bad?”

“It shouldn’t be…?” Siffrin squirmed. One of his hands found one of Mirabelle’s. She gave it a little squeeze, and he gave one back. “I mean. I… Let’s talking about something. Stars-!” 

Mirabelle squeezed his hand again. “There’s no rush.”

In… out. In. And out. “Thank you.” One more time. Big breath in… big breath out. “I guess it surprised me more than anything. Which is? Kinda dumb???”

Isabeau tried to cut in, “It’s not-“

But Siffrin kept talking, “I was careful! No wishes! No ‘Hi Isa, I need to do the Favor Tree thing!’ Even though I thought I wis- though I wanted to forget. But I didn’t mean those parts!” He held tighter to her hand, breath quickening. “I wanted to forget the King and the Sadnesses and the Head Housemaiden! Not you guys!”

Everyone tried to act at once, tried to protest, but Mirabelle was closest. She took his face in her hands—ignore the way he jumped, the moment of panic, the memory of a slap—and made him look her in the eyes. “Siffrin. You are NOT forgetting us! We’re right here, okay?” 

Bonnie barreled into him, Isabeau showed a little more restraint and just opened his arms for the group hug, and Odile messed up his hair a bit from the side. 

“Yeah! No way you can forget me!!!” Bonnie shouted.

“I would hug the memory back into you,” Isabeau said. 

Siffrin snorted, relaxing into the group hug. “Thanks guys, heh. Sorry, like I said. It’s a little bit weird, but I guess…” he had to stop to breathe again. “I guess a lot of things. I don’t want to forget more. Some part of me’s scared I’ll somehow forget my scripts and just go entirely mute. And it’s- it’s the only proof I have that it happened, because it didn’t! It didn’t happen to anyone else. Not on the loop that stuck!” His grasp on them tightened. Not painfully so, not when spread out across three people, but it was noticeable. “And it’s kind of not blinding fair! I- I… ‘I’d rather you ask everyone else if they need help, first.’ And I did! And- and THANK YOU SNACK LEADER FOR THIS DELICIOUS MEAL! and Fromage and… and it… How can I help you on this wonderful new loop…”

He let out a bitter laugh. “… it didn’t happen.” 

No one knew what to say. What even could they say? There was a heaviness in the air, an oppressive silence. It felt like if something broke it, everything might shatter…

But Change is destruction, and Mirabelle was a Housemaiden. “It happened to you.”

“But-“

“No, Mirabelle is right,” Odile said. “Even if it didn’t technically happen to anyone else, it happened to you for the equivalent of months. And if I recall correctly, you’ve mentioned before that that was your rock bottom, as it were.”

“I don’t think anyone blames you for feeling cheated, Sif,” Isabeau said. “Or for missing good memories, or, uh… wishing things went better.”

Siffrin sighed, resting his head on Isabeau’s shoulder. “I just, I just wish- wait! No. I want you guys to remember too. But I know that can’t happen without, um, actually wishing it. And no thank you. I think sharpening my dagger is the most wishcraft I want anymore.”

“Fair and valid,” Isabeau said. 

“Yeah… though I feel like it’d get confusing, having two memories of the same day,” Mirabelle said.

Siffrin gave her the most deadpan look and-

“Oh Change, I guess you technically do have a lot of the same day huh,” Mirabelle said one quiet breath. 

Siffrin chuckled, “Understatement. Though for better or worse, the fact that I, uh, didn’t change much made parts of it less confusing? Like…” He looked around and his eye widened. “Y’know, if you push that bed off the far wall to be more in the middle, it looks like the clock tower…” He trailed into mumbles as he just… apparently decided to do that! Without much issue! Sometimes Mirabelle forgot how strong they were now.

Isabeau, regardless, decided to pick up the other end and help. “Uh. I am going with this because you started it, but why are we doing a thing that seems kinda tailor made to trigger you, Sif?”

“I have, like, half an idea. Working on it,” Siffrin said as he set the bed down.

“Curious as I am, I’m with Isabeau on this one. This seems ill-advised,” Odile said. 

“That took, like, five seconds. We can move it back!” Siffrin huffed, sitting on the newly moved bed. “Besides. They’re way closer.” The room was quite a bit smaller than the clock tower after all, not really meant to shove all five of them in there.

“Oh! Are we making one BIG bed?” Mirabelle said. “Ultimate bed!!!”

“Gross, Frin! I don’t wanna be next to you and Za KISSING!”

“I agree with the preteen,” Odile said. “Veto’d.”

“That’s not-!” Siffrin huffed and pulled his legs in to sulk.

Oh no! “C’mon, we should probably let Siffrin think! And then tell us, um, what he’s thinking,” Mirabelle said.

“Thank you!” Siffrin said, flopping onto his back with an overdramatic huff. There were a few chuckles, but then they let the poor guy think. 

Siffrin took a deep breath. “So… I know I’ve been, uh, a little skittish. With play stuff.” They’d tried to see one once or twice, but he couldn’t step foot into a theatre without looking like he was just… empty. “But maybe I could act it out…?” His voice hoy quieter until it was a near whisper, eye averted…

And she couldn’t blame him. Isabeau and Odile both looked like he’d suggested going to swim with Sadnesses, and Bonnie looked to Odile and tried to mimic it.

“Sif, I don’t think-“

“Don’t be stupid, Frin-“

“Young one, this might not-“

“I THINK IT’S A GREAT IDEA!” Mirabelle shouted… and jumped, surprised at just how loud that came out. And oh Change, all eyes were on her now! But… oh, just pretend they’re in their underwear… hmm, that doesn’t work as well when you’ve had to wash clothes and bathe in rivers and have actually seen that. 

Deep breath, like Siffrin! They’re her friends, and it’s her turn to help. She walks over to Siffrin, sitting beside him and pulling them up enough to take their hands in hers. “I know it might sound a little counter-intuitive, to do something relating to what scares you, or, um, trauma in your case, but sometimes it’s good to? In little ways where you have control!”

She rubbed the backs of his palms with her thumbs. “It’s kind of like reading horror books? Getting to be a little scared, but safely? Or, hmm… no. Not reading… writing fanfiction! All the control is in my hands! I can make it horrible if I want, or can make them live happily ever after, or can have them face my greatest fears in front of an audience and make out over the gorey remains! And yeah, maybe it’s scary, but it’s safe scary? My, um… some of the other Housemaidens who are good at medicine and therapy and stuff recommended it, actually.”

She smiled at Siffrin, putting a hand on his cheek. The rest are probably staring at her, but this is no grand stage. It’s… “It’s us, our family! Not a whole theatre, not Dormont, or a House or anything like that. You’re safe here with us, and you can stop or break the script whenever you want, okay?“

He was looking at her like she was the one who made the seasons change and sun move across the sky. “Okay.”

She stood up and clapped. “Good!” And then dared look around. Everyone was staring!

“So, did you take a class on psychology, then?” Odile asked. 

“Three. One of which was actually theatre related!”

“Crab yeah Mira!” Isabeau pumped his fist for her. 

“You guys are nerds,” Bonnie said.

They couldn’t refute that! 

“Snrk- yeah, we can’t all be as cool as you, Bonbon,” Siffrin said. “So… if we’re good, do I just, like, do it…? I mean, the scene setting is already here.”

“What, by yourself?” Odile said.

“I’m not writing you a script and having you do it. If I see you guys say and do those things again, it might actually give me a panic attack,” Siffrin said. He stood up on the bed. “Sorry guys! One man show!”

“One! Man! Show!!!” Bonnie cheered. “Should I make popcorn?”

“I mean, yes, always,” Isabeau said. “But how long should this take?”

“Not long. Two minutes or so? Provided you don’t combust, Isa~”

“Wait, why would I combust???” Isabeau was already blushing some, holding his hands up defensively.

“EW! I don’t wanna hear you pretend to be Za being mushy! We get enough of that!” 

Siffrin smirked. “Okay, but, then you can laugh at me being Isa being mushy. And you’re in this scene too!”

Bonnie’s eyes went wide, mouth open in childish awe. “Am I yelling at you?”

“Mmmmmmaybe~” Pause. “Yes.”

“I KNEW IT!”

“Oh I’m going to have to give the neighbors something to make up for this,” Mirabelle whispered to herself. It wasn’t too late though, so hopefully they weren’t in, or at least weren’t trying to sleep.

“Dile! Get the tea heater!” They pulled out a small pan and lid from their bag. “I’m making POPCORN!” 

“Guess we’ve got a few minutes before the show. Everyone take your seats~”

“There is only one chair, and I claim it,” Odile said. 

“Overbooked! A tragedy!” Isabeau said with an exaggerated gasp and hand over his heart. 

Mirabelle, meanwhile, felt some of her theatre classes coming back. Just the rehearsals though! There was a play, but she panicked so hard that poor Junette had to just throw on the bonnet she was supposed to wear and, well, improving that that mother requesting help was the secretly the villain in disguise was sheer genius, actually! 

Wait… “Oh!” She pulled an extra bow from her bag and gave it to Siffrin. “Here! To play me! Um, assuming I’m here?” 

“You were!”

“Hmm, probably better than you attempting to do accents. Because, young one, if I didn’t know you, I’d think your attempt at mimicking me was offensive on purpose,” Odile said, smirking at Siffrin.

“Sorry Madame.”

“Here,” she passed him those weird, opaque glasses that they’d… wait… when did she get those??? 

“What about you, Bonbon. Should I steal your hat~?” Siffrin teased, inching to where it was piled atop their things.

“No. Borrow a spatula.” 

“Bon yes bon!” They pulled a spatula. Brilliant!

“Wait! What can I give you…?” Isabeau said, making a sad puppy dog face. And that was fair! Siffrin’s ears weren’t pierced, and putting earrings on and off would be a chore anyways. And Isabeau’s gloves were just too big for Siffrin’s hands!

It apparently stumped everyone as they just stared… 

Until Bonnie said, “Make your hair stand up like a bird’s.”

That alone got a chuckle out of some of them, and it turned to outright laughs when Isabeau fake cried, “So MEAN! I’m not a bird. I’m buff!”

“The buffest of birds,” Siffrin said, pressing again Isa and standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. 

Bonnie threw some corn at them. 

“Worth it!” Isabeau chirped.

The popcorn was ready shortly afterwards, salted and put in a little bowl in front of everyone. Siffrin was on the bed, stage right. He spit in his hand to spike up his hair, like a bird!

“Sif…” Siffrin deepened his voice, prompting snorts from all of them at his attempt to sound like Isabeau. “Hey… hey Sif. Siffrin. Siffarooni.” 

Siffrin then scooted over and tamped his hair down just to look behind him then quickly scoot back and fluff his hair again. If the ridiculousness of such an act weren’t silly enough, it was clear he was aware of this, trying not to laugh. 

He took a deep breath and got back “in character,” looking at the empty space in front of him with the biggest, puppiest eye he could muster. “Um… Sorry? To wake you? I just have to tell you something. If that’s okay?”

“Oh crab, I didn’t!!!” Isabeau groaned, pressing his hands into his eyes. 

“In front of my Belle?!” Bonnie said, gesturing to Mirabelle like she was an art piece.

Siffrin once more played “himself” and nodded before doing his silly little scoot back to being Isabeau. “Okay, okay, okay. Then I shall tell you the thing! The thing I woke you up to tell you!”

“Siiiiiif I take it back let’s end this!” Isabeau groaned. 

“Quiet, I’m watching the show,” Pdile said, taking a handful of popcorn.

Bonnie seemed considerably more interested in laughing at Isabeau, but Siffrin didn’t seem to mind.

Siffrin continued, unmoved by the begging. “Haha! Um. So.”

“The thing I have to tell you. Is. That…” Siffrin looked off to the side, a snort escaping as he caught Isabeau’s clearly shaded face. Still, he delivered his line. “I don’t have anything to tell you right now. But I will, when, uh, we beat the King, okay?”

“Oh Change and I said this every night, didn’t I? Aaaaargh that must’ve gotten so crabbing annoying!” Isabeau moaned. 

“Now you know how I feel!” Bonnie said.

Siffrin was back in his place, but… “Uh… hmm. Breaking character of, uh… myself? A sec? Eventually I just got quiet but that’s more sad than funny, so we’re doing the funny one. Okay back to it!” He cleared his throat. “That is still SO ominous, Isa.”

Back to Isa and oh Change he actually did a really good impression of Isabeau’s flustered face! “I, uh, just don’t wanna tell you right now when it might distract you! Wouldn’t want that! So, uh, I’ll tell you when we beat the, um, King, okay?”

Siffrin looked at them, opened his mouth to say something, then it split into a head manic grin as an idea hit. Oh Change here we go. 

Siffrin bolted up, snapped, grabbed the spatula and a pillow, threw it, dropped the spatula, and lunged for the bed so it hit him in the face. 

“SIF?!”

“Pfffft, hahaha!”

“PILLOW! THROW!”

“Hahahaha! Oh noooooo!” 

They had to take a short intermission from everyone laughing too hard. Once, even twice it almost ended, but someone snickered and started it again! But third time’s the charm.

Siffrin picked the dropped spatula back up, “I’ll wash this after,” and then got on the middle bed and pointed accusingly at the empty bed, “SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!” 

“HEY I DON’T SOUND LIKE THAT!” Bonnie huffed.

“Oh he’s trying,” Mira said. Though truthfully, the squeaky voice Siffrin had chosen was awful.

“You hit me with a pillow?!” Isabeau said.

“I would’ve used a book,” Odile said.

Siffrin hit the bed and set the bow on his hair. “YEAH ISABEAU! SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP! CLOSE YOUR MOUTH AND SLEEP!”

“PFFFT, Belle sounds like a mouse!” Bonnie said. “Belle’s on my side Belle’s on my side!”

Then Siffrin rushed over to stage right once more, slicking hair in the midst of a fit of giggles. “CLOSE YOUR MOUTH HOUSEMAIDEN! YOU’RE GONNA WAKE UP M’DAME ODILE!”

“How could I have slept through this?” Odile said. 

Siffrin went to the far bed, stifling giggles behind his hand before putting on the dark glasses and somehow managing to be utterly serious as he said, “I’m already up.” He didn’t bother with a voice, but got the tone scarily serious. 

“Oh, so I didn’t,” Odile remarked.

“And if the noise continues, I will stand up. You do not want to know what will happen if I stand up.”

Aaaand right back to the energy. He looked exaggeratedly spooked as he picked up the spatula and dove under the covers. “Sorry.” Then tried to roll over, presumably to be Mirabelle, and-

THUMP! “NYA!”

“Did you-?”

“Did he-?”

“Did Sif-?”

“Did they-?”

“Stars- YES I JUST SAID NYA!” Tangled in the sheets, Siffrin had hit the floor, and now was hiding in the covers, wiggling futilely for a few seconds before giving up. “… for the record. That did not happen. Uh… crew? A little help? Rather not cut these.”

Mirabelle giggled as she got up, helping get the sheets off without having to resort the scissors craft. 

Siffrin brushed the dust off of him, held the bow up, and gave a quick little, “Sorry.”

Then went back to be Isabeau. “Sorry m’dame…” He looked appropriately abashed, but the look turned into one of a familiar, adoring smile. “Good night, Sif!” 

“Aaaaaand scene!” Siffrin said, standing back up and giving a little bow.

They all clapped for him, even if Bonnie was breathless from laughing and Isabeau was still dark-cheeked. 

“Good job, Siffrin!” Mirabelle said, going over and playfully spinning him… and forgetting their current lack of space, squawking as they both tumbled onto a bed, laughing and breathless.

Isabeau must’ve gotten jealous as he scooped Siffrin into his arms and started kissing his cheek! “Mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah!”

“GROOOOOOSSSS!” Bonnie whined.

Siffrin was laughing so much that both he and Isa had to sit down a minute, but eventually Siffrin got back up to put the bed back, then munch on some popcorn. “Mmmmm, good as always, Bonbon~” They mussed up Bonnie’s hair with a smile as more salty snacks disappeared into their mouth. 

“I AM the best chef cooker after all!” Bonnie said, little chest puffed out.

“You are!” Siffrin said. He went a bit quiet for a moment before saying, “Speaking of that, we’re near a market anyways… wanna try making those fritters again? Maybe with a few spicy peppers?”

“YEAH!!!”

“We might wanna grab something for the neighbors too, if only to apologize…” Mirabelle said. 

“And we haven’t been kicked out yet, so to bribe the inkeepers as well,” Odile said.

“MADAME!”

They went into another bout of giggles and finished up the popcorn before going to brush teeth and settle in…

And in the dark and quiet, as she was starting to drift off to sleep, she could hear Isabeau say, “And hey Sif, just gonna tell it this time… I love you!”

“I love you too!”

Mwah!

And that night, everyone slept well.

-----

I prefer tea, but buy me a Kofi?

[luvmyboyss]

SAVIOR | SATORU GOJO

✮ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

✮ Synopsis: You were trapped in a monotonous life, every day was the same, same routine, same boring people, same boring boyfriend, untill one day it just changed.

✮ Warnings: Stalking, fainting, mentioned panick attack, anxiety

✮ Word count: 1.3k

✮ A/N: I'm thinking about making more parts obiously, but let me know what you think about it, if you like it or not. Also i'm still learning to put warnings so if anyone notice some missing please let me kno. Thank you!

✮ PS: Thank you @hyuneskkami for the blue dividers!! 🫶🏻😭

You were tired, all the days were the same schedule, every day that passed you were more tired, what you should do? You didn’t know, but you felt trapped in a loop, doing the same each morning, each midday and each night.

At 6:30 your boyfriend, who didn’t even want to marry you, after 7 years, you thought the day was coming, but it never happened. He wakes up, and instead of trying to be as subtle as he can so you can rest for 30 more minutes, he is the loudest person you’ve ever met. He goes to the bathroom and the only thing that you are praying is for him to just stay as quiet as he can.

At 7:00 your alarm goes off, and it’s a good thing that your boyfriend is now out of your room, so you can take a nice shower to try to stay calm and start the day nicely. You change into boring clothes, because after trying to be more stylish for a while, you noticed that everyone in the office stared at you, and at first you didn’t care, but after some time and lots and lots of whispering, laughter and mean looks, you started to be more like them.

By the time 8:00 rolls your boyfriend is already out of your tiny apartment and you eat your breakfast alone, the silence feels heavy, and you hate it, but still get trough it because in fifteen minutes you will be taking the train, because you’d be damned if your bf lends you the car you both paid for. 

Then, from 9:00 to 17:00-17:30 you work your ass off and with just some time to eat your lunch and relax, and all you can really think about in that time is how you wished you’d be somewhere else, living your life fully, and even tho you were still young you felt like this was your life for the rest of your stance in the world.

Around 17:45-18:15 you finally get home, no boyfriend at sight, and you are very tired, but still have to do dinner and both of your lunches for tomorrow, because he didn’t like it when meals weren’t done, ‘cause if you spend so much time home why don’t use it wisely? If not you will be met with the consequences of your actions, or lack of them in this case.

When your boyfriend arrives at 20:00 the table is already set, and you are preparing the lunches for tomorrow and setting them in a place where he can see them or he’ll get mad. 

You both eat and even though it hurts you, neither of you talks, and you still did not so long ago, but seeing that he didn’t care and didn’t listen, you just stopped. You should have left him long ago but can’t understand why you still haven’t. You blame it on the fact that flats are expensive and living with someone takes half of it off. 

Around 21:00 you are in your bed ready to sleep but the TV from the living room is just so high, you’ve tried lots of different ways to stop the sound, lots and lots of ear plugs, but none worked, so now you roll on your bed until bf comes to bed and the TV is off.

At 23:00 when everyone is probably asleep, and you can hear your boyfriend snoring you wonder if there is really a meaning to life, if you are meant for this life and if this is how it’s going to be forever.

You hope it isn’t.

૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა

You woke up more happy this morning. Today you had to go shopping for groceries, and that broke your schedule a bit, and you liked that more than you let yourself to admit.

Around noon you got out and went shopping, walking around and getting to the center of the town seeing people expressing themselves made you feel alive again, but today felt different, you felt as if someone was watching you.

You let that pass as your brain tricking you. The thing is, you were indeed being watched by some white-haired man from some miles away.

You went home and started back your routine. It wasn't until some weeks later when you went out again, when that feeling of being watched came back, or rather stronger, because you'd been feeling it since that day when you went shopping.

You were walking around going to your trusted supermarket when you saw him, and how could you not? Even when he was sitting he stood out over everyone else.

Who was that white-haired guy sitting on a bench in front of your supermarket? Why was he wearing a blindfold? Why was he so...ethereal?

Deciding not to pay any attention to him, you get to get your groceries. Everything went well but after like an hour when you got out of there he was still there, and for you it seemed weird because even though he wasn't looking in your direction and wearing a blindfold, you still felt like he was watching you.

As always the longer route seemed more appealing so its the one you chose, half the rout in the feeling of being watched was still there. You couldn't shake it off, and then you saw him.

Even though the reflection wasn't the clearest you could identify him from miles away. Who could't? And he was... following you? 

"No, no it must have been a coincidence he couldn't be following me, right" you thought, but still weren't sure at all.

After some more turns and straights, the reflection gave him away again.

"Now he is following for sure"

You speed up your peace and soon enough the entry to your building was right there. After looking at both directions and seeing the white hair weirdo wasn't there, you decided to enter.

૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა

The next week you felt watched every hour of the day, everyday, it was exhausting, at some point you even felt sick, it was very bad, your body was telling you to stop doing the thing that made you that anxious, you were anxious all the time, you. You thought you even had some small panick atacks.

One day while you were in the office your body had enough and you ended up blocking yourself in the bathroom.

You felt like everyone was watching your every move, you were out of your mind so you did what anyone would do, you took the day off and packed to get home.

Just after getting out you saw him, sitting on a bench but this time he was looking at you, or so you thought 'cause he was still wearing that blindfold.

At that moment, you freaked the fuck out, you started sprinting home, you didn't care about anything, after some meters you turned to another place, the police.

If he was still following you, he was going to meet the consequences.

When you arrived, you waited a minute to see if he was there, but he was nowhere to be seen, so you decided to go back home. 

When you were taking the lift to your floor your heart was racing, you wanted to stay home forever, you swore if you saw him again you were truly filing a police report and moving to another country.

You opened the door to your flat, but there was something weird. You couldn't point at it but the feeling wouldn't go away. And then you saw him.

"What the fuck!"

Your reaction was to leave your apartment, but for some reason there was something blocking the entryway. It made the outside blurry and now that you noticed the light from the outside seemed blurry too.

When he moved, panick moved through your body and you couldn't move "fuck" you thought. 

"Hey you don't need to worry, I'm not trying to do something bad to you, I'm here to talk about something important with you, it is..."

You couldn't even hear what he said because you fainted.

[apocalyptixs]

Arriving in this safe zone might have been a mistake. Atlas chewed on their lower lip anxiously as the new rules of the zone were read out; as if this was some sort of school full of children and not a town where they'd all happened to be living now. Was this actually happening? They couldn't leave? They couldn't do whatever the fuck they wanted after a certain hour of the night? Laws that regulated society were one thing, but...this?

"What?" They asked when the woman nearby spoke up, their eyes shifting first in her direction, then around towards whomever it was she was speaking of. But then she was scolding them for looking, and Atlas snapped back to focus straight ahead, trying to act casual - and maybe failing at it. What did casual look like? Atlas's arms folded across their chest, clearing their throat. "Right, sure...Uhm. But you think this is just...like, the beginning, then? Like, what - we'll eventually be stuck walking the halls inside a building and be banned from the roads entirely? I dunno if I can handle that idea..." Or, honestly, this one, but that wasn't as much up for debate...

in the safe zone open starter

A curfew was reasonable- Erika wouldn't want people to be wandering around at night either. However, closing off the gates entirely was unacceptable. Keeping everyone contained wasn't going to last as a permanent solution and adding more restrictions only put stress on the people inside. She needed to find a way out before that happened; or if her son was refused entry, or if the front was overrun, or any other goddamned reason she felt like leaving.

"These guys are stressed. They'll start being suspicious of everyone soon." she keeps her tone light and casual, not wanting to catch a guard's ear. It shouldn't be strange for a couple of people to be chatting together, but this place could head toward a riot, fast. "No, no, don't look at them. Just keep talking to me like normal."

[shiqingxuanz]

colored in a meimeng sketch today

[genekies]

tag vent

[radgeorgie]

had an amazing interview yesterday.... was told I'd know by Monday.... but it's alleged they DRUG TEST and I just bought 6 packs of weed edibles 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭